#Got me to finish the colouring early and have it sitting in my drafts before the charger killed it self

[asmodeusamaryllis]

Shoutout to both Asmodeus having their bday during pride, gay ass demons like mother like son smh

[milfjagger]

long horsey post under cut to save my followers who don’t care

i think i rode a pony for the first time when i was about 5 but i started lessons when i was 7!! my sister started at the same time aged 5 and my mum took up riding again having not ridden since she was a kid. (btw all of these photos are from this really cute memories book that my mum had printed for me and my sister ♥️)

we used to go to northern ireland to see my dad’s family pretty much every easter, and we usually also combined it with a trip to donegal in the ROI bc that was where my dad used to go on holiday as a kid! there was a riding school in rathmullan where you could take the ponies along the beach and that was where i had my first gallop!!! my dad doesn’t ride so he always walked along the beach and tried to get pictures; this is me on a pony who i think was called pearl iirc (i have a really good memory for the names of horses for some reason even if i only met/rode them like once)

by this point we had moved from devon to hertfordshire and i absolutely fucking hated it there BUT they did have a very big and very good riding school in walking distance from our house . we had lessons there every week and when i was 10 my mum bought a horse from them! he was called boris, he was a big chestnut irish draft who was sooo handsome and sweet and everyone was so jealous of him lol but here he is 🧡

boris was supposed to be the family horse but my mum is tall and didn’t really realised how much too big he would be for me and my sister (and my brother who rode for a bit before he decided his horse allergies were too bad to continue 😭), especially bc he was only 5 when we got him and he grew about 3 inches from then (finishing at just under 17 hands). i was already like 5’3 at age 10 (early puberty lol) so was able to ride him a bit but my sister couldn’t really bc her feet barely reached the bottom of the saddle. for a while we loaned (for free, from another owner on the yard) a 14 hand haflinger called tommy who i have literally NO pictures of but if you google haflinger that’s pretty much him, they only come in one colour. tommy was absolutely fucking mental and the strongest pony ever, i remember one time i was cantering on him and literally couldn’t stop him at all so i just had to sit and wait until he got tired 😭 we also did some jumping on him and rode him in our lessons which was always slightly terrifying but we had a lot of fun on him until he went lame from a health condition and his owner put him in retirement. then the stable owners told us they had a pony we could loan for free (mainly for my sister) but quote “it’s not a nice pony” and that is the story of how we got isobel, who we have now had for 17 years, is 25 and completely retired from work. she is a very small (12 hands) roan rescue pony who was extremely nervous and unhandled (she had been turned loose for a year before we got her, she wouldn’t let most of the staff near her and her mane was down to her knees and super matted) but my sister was super patient with her. i rode her a little bit but i was already bordering on too big for her. she was 100% my sister’s pony and my sister ADORED her. we all still love isobel so much even though she is grumpy as fuck she’s so cute and she deserves to live out her retirement in peace and be a friend to mum’s current horses ♥️♥️♥️ this is isobel (first pic with my sister soon after we got her 17 years ago and another recent one)

isobel had some limitations though, mainly that she was terrified of jumping and given what she went through before she was rescued by the rspca we didn’t want to push her too much. our riding school was super jumping focused and at the time me and my sister were both really into jumping (and we thought isobel was only gonna be temporary) so mum decided to get a pony that was bigger than isobel but smaller than boris and would be able to do some jumping. which was when we got cookie, who was an absolute legend and i really hope she’s happy if she is still alive today ♥️ she was a skewbald irish cob with one blue eye and one brown, just over 14 hands and came highly recommended by the riding school who had owned her briefly, but she was being sold by a private owner. we had kind of a rocky start with her (when we went to try her out, me, my sister and my brother all rode her and told mum that she scared the shit out of us, but my mum was like “well it’s this pony or no pony”) and she was completely mental for about 3 months and would just buck and run off constantly but luckily we had trained at the school of tommy (and isobel who could also be kind of quirky) and i started really enjoying her. my sister was still nervous but she had isobel who was much smaller and also now that we had 3 it meant we could all ride together which was super nice :) cookie was an amazing jumper for a cob and so pretty ♥️ she had quite severe hayfever and was very bothered by flies so she had to wear a fly mask in the summer and would toss her head quite a lot and in many ways she was not an easy pony at all but we literally loved her and learned so much from her bc she was so weird and crazy. i always think there are two types of cobs, the ones that are basically walking sofas and the ones that are a bit fucked in the head and she was definitely the second type LOL. here is a pic of me jumping on cookie!!! this is from when the riding school took a bunch of school horses and other kids’ horses to a cross country course and i literally fell off at least twice that day and the yard owner actually got on cookie to try and sort her out and she was like fair play lol that pony is spicy!!! but at least we got some good pics before that

pretty soon after we got cookie we moved back to devon and we were only planning to take cookie and boris bc isobel still belonged to the school but they basically insisted we take her, handed over her documents and she was ours 😭 we moved into a farm with its own stables and joined the local pony club, which kinda sucked tbh it was really cliquey and no one really thought much of cookie bc she was a cob and they all had expensive show ponies or thoroughbreds lol. she could easily jump a course of the same height as their horses but she wasn’t really fast enough to win the timed jump-offs …but we still got some rosettes ♥️ I didn’t take boris to many events bc he was mainly mum’s horse, and at this point my sister was really confident on cookie and wanted to ride her all the time so we thought about getting another horse that would be just mine. we heard from someone at our old yard in hertfordshire that she was looking for a home for her super nice dressage horse, but he would be super cheap bc he had health issues and intermittent lameness. i remembered the horse and had always thought he was really sweet and friendly and we ended up getting him, bc it was an amazing opportunity to have a really highly trained horse and have some fun with him when he was sound, but we did kind of know his time would be limited before he went completely lame. his old name was literally FUGLY which was so cruel and inaccurate but i assume he was a really goofy looking foal or something … anyway i was having none of that negativity so i named him lenny 🧡 he was a big 17 hand chestnut warmblood (oldenburg i think but you need a phd to understand european warmblood breeding) and was such a goofy silly head but so sweet and unlike any horse i had ever ridden and i was so extremely excited to have him. he was also best friends with boris who was a similar size and colour and they looked so cute playing together in the field 🥹♥️ this was lenny (with my mum riding him lol i never rode him at a show for reasons i will get into)

we had just got lenny and we knew he was kind of delicate so there was no way he was going to pony club camp to do jumping and all sorts, so for my first ever pony club camp (age 15) i took boris and my sister took cookie. and on literally the FIRST DAY we were having a jumping lesson, boris tripped and i went over his shoulder and broke my collar bone 😭 i had to go to hospital but luckily he was fine and he actually stayed for the whole camp and i think one of the pony club mums rode him and had a great time 😭 and then basically i couldn’t ride for weeks and was super nervous to get on even when my shoulder was better, especially bc lenny was new and a lot more of an advanced horse than i was used to. my mum absolutely fell in love with lenny though and got into dressage on him. I didn’t really ride much for ages after that and even when i did i usually rode cookie. then boris was diagnosed with arthritis - he could still be ridden a little bit though and had medication to manage his joints. I can’t remember if mum sold him before or after we got my sister’s next horse bailey but she ended up selling boris to someone from pony club who said they just wanted a horse to do light hacking on and we could visit him whenever, but within a few months they had sold him, probably for a profit and by lying about his health which was so incredibly irresponsible, infuriating and heartbreaking. so I have no idea what eventually happened to boris but i suspect he was put to sleep within a few years 💔 it’s really sad and i hate that person so much for lying about what they wanted him for and then potentially tricking someone else into buying a horse that wasn’t fully sound. fuck them forever fr boris was so sweet and deserved way better

anyway as i said my sister wanted to do more jumping and especially cross country jumping, and she was getting to a level where cookie couldn’t really keep up with the other more sporty type horses so she ended up getting a 15.2 hand bay irish sport horse called bailey. he was also kind of quirky and for a long time she would fall off him literally every time she took him to an event. my mum would be waiting at the finish line to take a picture and see bailey come running in without her 😭 he was so funny though, when you groomed him he would reflexively start grooming the wall with his teeth as if he was mutual grooming with another horse it was so cute ♥️ this was bailey

because my sister fell off so often over jumps, and bc we had lenny who was highly trained in dressage, both my mum and my sister got really into dressage, my mum on lenny and my sister on both lenny and bailey. i get sad talking about those two bc they both had to be put to sleep, lenny first when he went fully lame from his long term injury. he also had a tumour on his ear which didn’t look good and we had to do the kindest thing for him 💔 my mum was devastated (she absolutely loved him, maybe even more than boris) and one of her friends very kindly bought her a big orange rose to plant in his memory ♥️ and then with bailey, it turned out the reason he kept bucking after jumps was bc he had arthritis in his front legs and would be in pain when he landed. he eventually went fully lame and was in constant pain and again it was the kindest thing for him but it was incredibly sad as he was still quite young. i think at some point bailey overlapped with the new horses mum got for herself and my sister but my timeline is wobbly bc i wasn’t really into horses at the time. i did cry a lot over those two being put to sleep and i cried when we eventually sold cookie, but she went to a really good home with someone who really loved her and may still have her to this day (we lost touch but cookie would be about 23 and could well still be alive).

anyway then my mum had a big 16.3 hand piebald warmblood called stan and my sister had a 16 hand grey british sports horse called george. stan was older (15 when mum bought him) and very experienced and well trained but he was extremely grumpy and difficult a lot of the time and everyone except mum was scared of him 😭 and george was a super sweet youngster who was definitely my sister’s favourite horse ever (except probably isobel) but he kind of scared the shit out of my mum bc he was young and nervous. then my sister went to uni and mum had to sell one of the horses bc she wouldn’t be able to exercise two (we still had and still have isobel but she is too small for any of us and retired anyway, not to mention no one would ever buy her lol) and she decided to sell george for some reason even though he was the way nicer horse. my sister was obviously sad but she follows the new owner on instagram and it looks like george is still doing well to this day :) so mum struggled with stan for a few years and then decided he was basically too old to be competing anymore, snd that was probably why he was getting so grumpy, so she sold him quite cheap to someone who just wanted to do light work (and was really happy with him, he was a beautiful horse for the price they paid). and also if mum had kept george then she would probably never have got athena, who is her current dressage horse and my mum loves her to bits. she is a 16.1 hand dark bay warmblood and is basically perfect for mum in every way. she’s not the most friendly horse but she’s really calm and easy to handle and i love her a lot ♥️ this is athena aka bean aka babina she’s such a fancy girl

athena also has a few health issues though (literally classic our family’s luck with horses) and was off lame for ages in 2018-19 and since it was just athena and isobel at home mum was itching to ride so she spent ages looking for the perfect “project horse” i.e. a young horse that had been backed (ridden) but not really trained so she could do some training herself. after looking at about 20 horses she found this funny little 5 year old grey mare who was maybe 15.1 hands at best and really cheap. and that was bubbles aka bugs who I literally love so much she is soooo cute and friendly and has turned into such a nice little horse. she is the one that i ride now when i visit my parents and she is such a sweet girl i absolutely love bubbles ♥️ look how cute she is (ft. me jumpscare)

mum wouldn’t let me ride bubbles straight away though bc bubbles was young and i was really out of practice, plus bubbles needed a confident horse to go out hacking with (i.e. not athena who is too delicate for such things) so one of my mum’s friends really kindly started letting me ride her horse bonnie :) then through 2020-22 bonnie’s owner wasn’t riding so we moved bonnie to the farm and i loaned her full time. she was a little 15 hand bay baroque type lusitano who was bought for literally 100 euros from a meat factory in portugal 💔 she was also literally evil and would attack you while you were grooming, feeding, putting on rugs, tacking up or basically anything that wasn’t riding, but as soon as you got in the saddle she adopted the chiller nature and was really fun to ride, very speedy but really solid and unflappable, presumably bc she used to be a bullfighter and carriage horse back in portugal. despite how mean she was i loved bonnie and she gave me so so much confidence in my riding and i don’t think i would have got back into horses without her. me and my sister rode loads together during lockdown, switching between bonnie and bubbles :) she was also there for me when i wanted to take on another loan horse, a smallish cob called misty, who threw me off quite badly on like my third ride on her and i was terrified to get back on, so i got on bonnie instead and got my confidence back (misty went back to her owner, who then sold her bc he was a professional trainer and even he couldn’t fix whatever was wrong with her lol and she was supposed to be a riding for the disabled horse!!! she was dangerous fr!!!!)

but anyway then i went back to uni and even though my mum kind of wanted to keep bonnie, she wasn’t going to buy her from her owner after all the work and training and money that she put into her and her owner unfortunately really needed the money from a sale (a lot more than the €100 she paid for her…. thanks to the work of literally me and my mum and not bonnie’s actual owner but i digress). I would have bought her myself if i had the money and the time but i don’t live with my parents and the farm is about 1.5 hours drive away and i can’t reasonably ask my mum to look after my horse all the time especially bc she is such a nightmare to handle. and i can’t keep a horse nearer to me, it’s way too expensive and i don’t have the time 💔 but on the plus side i am definitely confident and competent enough for bubbles now (i don’t really ride athena, i wouldn’t get much out of her as i’m nowhere near trained to that level) and it meant i felt really confident on my riding holiday even on a more spicy horse… bc i know i can handle it !!! my mum even admitted yesterday i am “quite a decent rider” and coming from her that means a lot 🥲 ♥️ and i can ride bubbles whenever i visit my parents!! anyway here’s me and my sister on bonnie and bubbles 😁 thank you for reading if you got this far

[littlemissvincentvega]

Could you write mr. Pink x reader. The reader is a waitress and Mr.Pink gives her a tip because she's something special. If you know what I mean 😅 Idk if you already have written something similar like this

HEY idk when this was requested but it has been sitting in my drafts for ages so i hope it's okay for you!!! it was so fun to write this like when ryan isn't at home for an evening i get so much muse to actually sit and write bc i can concentrate 😹😹 love you all my beauties 🥰 enjoy

It was early afternoon at Bob's, the little pancake house you waitressed at. You'd worked there for just under a year now, no day being the same-- that was the beauty of it. True, it was a low-paying job and people could be stingy with tips, but the array of people that visited made it so much more interesting. For some reason, LA had a rather quirky population. And working here gave you a front row seat.

Three gentlemen had let themselves in about an hour prior to now, sitting and slurping on coffees along with a few pancakes drenched in maple syrup. It was strange-- they seemed to refer to each other as colours, which made your ears twitch with curiosity. "Alright, Brown, shut the fuck up already, we've heard about Madonna enough today," one of them had sighed, leaving the poor guy speechless. He had a point, though. Other customers were turning their heads he was talking so fast, it was like he could breathe through his ears.

---

"Someone's gotta bring insight to this table, it was never gonna be you," White shrugged, throwing Pink a glance.

He rolled his eyes. "I got plenty'a insight to give, I just don't feel the need to share it all the time. This motherfucker's been talkin' about fuckin' Madonna for the past fifteen minutes without takin' a breath."

"Nothin' wrong with bein' passionate, Mr. Pink, you should try it someime," White answered, grabbing a pinch of tobacco to roll another cigarette. He licked the strip, "There's no shame in liking somethin'."

"There is when I need to take a leak and all I can hear is Madonna this Madonna fuckin' that."

"Alright, alright, I'll stop. But I'll finish my story at some point, mark my fuckin' words," Brown told him, jabbing a finger across the table. "Anyway, we headin' off soon, boys?"

White chuckled, lighting up his cigarette. "Sure. Let the little lady come over here and I'll take care of it."

"Uh-uh. Let me," Pink said quickly, plucking a cigarette from his pack and tucking the carton back into his breast pocket. "Hell of an ass. I don't think I can piss now, I been starin' at her backside so long I think I got a stiff one."

"I don't want any part'a this, I'm goin' to the bathroom." Brown held his hands up and excused himself, throwing you a polite smile on the way.

White just stared at his colleague for a solid five seconds before he spoke. "You're disgusting."

"What? C'mon, even you were thinkin' it. We all were."

He sighed. "You can think it without sayin' it. It's what's known as respect. Guys like you are why women feel unsafe doing just about anything on their own."

"Don't be a pussy, I'm just admirin' what's in front of me."

"You didn't need to say it, especially not so loudly. Poor girl prob'ly heard you." White took a deep drag of his cigarette before returning it to his lips. He leaned forward and began to stack the plates neatly to help you out, still talking. "You handle the bill. But Christ, don't say anything to her. These ladies work hard enough without havin' to deal with perverted assholes like you."

Pink simply rolled his eyes and diverted his attention to you-- he made a gesture with his hand and you smiled, going to fetch the bill. He looked rather pleased with himself after that.

You approached the table, big smile on your face. Standing this close to him, you noticed that he was really quite handsome, and felt your cheeks heat up slightly. You got hit on quite a bit as it was (mostly by creepy old guys) but this was the one time you hoped it would happen. "How was everything for you, gentlemen?" you asked, flashing a sweet grin.

Pink's gaze lingered on you for a moment before he took the cigarette from his lips to speak. He smiled (a rare occurance), "All good, thanks," and dug his wallet from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"It was lovely, thank you, sweetie," White nodded.

"Great, I'm glad. Let me take these away from you and I'll come straight back," you beamed, picking up the plates and tottering off to take them to the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doin'?" White questioned, looking at Pink in despair. He was hunched over the bill, scribbling something on the receipt.

"None of your fuckin' business, asshole."

"Oh, God, don't tell me you're leavin' your number," Brown giggled, sitting back down. "She won't call you, man, no way."

Pink scowled and eyed his hands. "Did you remember to wash your hands, asshole? I can smell your fuckin' pissdick from here. Mind your own fuckin' business. At least I'm not a pussy like you guys." And he went back to scrawling on the receipt.

As you returned, Pink was just placing a few notes on the receipt and weighed them down with a hefty tip. His sharp tongue retreated when he saw you coming back over and he gave a warning glare to his coworkers before looking to you. "Thanks, honey, and enjoy the tip."

"I thought you didn't tip, Mr. Pink?" Brown smirked.

His face dropped back to the usual grumpy scowl. "Yeah, well I tip nice waitresses, asshole. I don't see you leavin' a tip even though she deserves one."

"Ignore him, honey, he's short-tempered," White told you, giving you a nudge with his elbow. "C'mon, gentlemen, let's go. We're gonna be late." With that, the boys said their farewells and the other two gents left you a tip from their own money too. You watched the so-called Mr. Pink leave the cafe, hoping that he'd look back at you, but he never did. Your heart skipped a beat when you picked up the receipt, though, and an enormous grin was plastered all over your face.

'MR. PINK

NICE WAITRESS, BETTER ASS

CALL ME'

was scribbled in very messy handwriting, along with his phone number underneath. You tucked it into your bra and felt your heart leap with excitement-- you knew what you'd be doing tonight.

[constancelaufeydottir]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of knife, blood, cursing, murder, mention of cannibalism, dark!Bucky(?), major character death, slight smut, fluff.

Summary: Bucky set his eyes on his sweet and cute neighbour who had suffered from a loss recently, determined to make her his.

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: This is my entry for @ambrosiase hotel indigo writing challenge. It’s my first ever writing challenge, and I had a lot of fun writing this! Honestly, I'm really grateful for this challenge because it motivates me to finish this wip that has been sitting in the draft for too long. Thank you for this lovely challenge mae ♡♡

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. If you see any mistakes, do let me know!

Room ⥤ Modern muse

Room service ⥤ neighbour + criminal

“Oh that poor thing.”

Bucky whipped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Mrs. Lockwood, his neighbour on the right.

“Huh?” He didn’t mean to voice out his confusion, but his brain was somewhat short-circuited, barely able to function when his sight was filled with you, and you only.

“That sweet girl over there,” Mrs. Lockwood was referring to you, his sweet neighbour to the left he was staring at, before the old lady came interrupting.

He had been staring for 5, 10 minutes maybe? He swore he wasn’t a pervert, you were just a sight for sore eyes, the healer of the wounds in his soul.

“What about y/n?” He asked, curious to listen to what his neighbour would say about the other neighbour. Also, he was fairly new to the neighbourhood, having just moved in last month, he ought to catch up with the gossip.

“Her boyfriend went missing a few months back, poor girl was devastated. Police suspected it was murder, even suspected y/n!” The old lady shook her head, casting pitying glances at the oblivious girl in the sundress, bathing under the sun with a book in her hand. “She’s such a sweet girl, how could they have suspected her?”

Bucky glanced at you, heart racing when you caught him looking. You shyly waved at him, a small smile plastered on your face hiding the underlying sadness of the loss of your loved one. His hand felt clammy when he raised one of them to wave back, his usual flirty self vanished whenever you were involved in the equation.

“Boy, you are in love aren’t ya,” Mrs. Lockwood teased, “I say go for it. Our lovely y/n definitely needs some lovin’ after what she’d been through and young man, I think you are the right person.” Her eyes crinkled as she patted Bucky encouragingly on the shoulder, like a loving mother cheering up her son.

Bucky, who was usually composed, blushed furiously. That big brain of his still hadn’t regained its functions thus he found himself unable to stop Mrs. Lockwood when she hollered at you.

Clearly immersed in your book, you jumped a little when you heard your name being called.

“Y/n, this young man would love to take you out on a date, what d’ya say?” His eyes widened at the accusation, though it was true that he wanted to date you, he just needed time to gather the guts to ask you out.

He saw you put down your book, walking towards him and Mrs. Lockwood. You were a front yard away from him, shielding the harsh sunlight from your eyes with your hands while leaning onto the fence.

“I’d love to,” you had to speak louder, and Bucky loved your voice as he only heard it only a handful of times now, often you were shy and quiet when you saw him.

“U-uhm, how about Saturday then,” He stuttered like a teenage boy who first received a love letter, suddenly forgetting how to speak, speech lost in the sea of disbelief and excitement, and affection.

You said nothing, only nodding and smiling at him, flashing those pearly whites.

“Great. 6pm. I’ll pick you up,”

“See you soon, James.” He watched as you walked away, a teasing smile on your face before you disappeared into the door. Gosh how he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and he’d give anything to hear it again, and again.

Saturday came too soon, Bucky was not prepared at all. Well, he had done the reservations for the restaurant he’d planned to bring you to tonight, ironed out the creases and wiped off the non-existent dust on the dress shirt he would be wearing, so why was he nervous?

5:50 pm.

Call him old-fashioned or whatever, he’d prefer early to late and would love to escort you to his car. He stood in front of your porch, palm sweating and if his metal arm could secrete sweats, he was pretty sure it would end up like its counterpart.

You opened the door as soon as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, seeming eagerly waiting for him as he was for you.

He took in your outfit, the moderately revealing dress he liked, the one he saw you undress from, through his window countless times.

If it was possible to fall into a deeper love, he would.

The date couldn’t possibly be better than he imagined, it was perfect. Everything was great; the atmosphere of the restaurant, the quality of the food, and most importantly, you.

You were shy at first but opened up fairly quickly, telling him stories about you, and vice versa. You sympathized with him when he told you how he got the metal arm, your fingers grazing the delicate and intricate loops and lines on the metal surface.

His fingers were woven into yours halfway into the dinner, the cool metal fingers of his absently caressing your knuckles as you shared the story about your family, who disappeared mysteriously, then your ex-boyfriend, who went missing 5 months ago, like your family.

It was hard, talking about missing loved ones. Bucky could tell, by the way your hand unconsciously tightened, the lingering sadness in your eyes as you mentioned how happy you were before him. The way your tears were brimming in your eyes, threatening to glide down your face, it wrenched his heart, seeing how broken you were. He would try to pick up every broken piece of you in a heartbeat, mending them back together, fixing you until you were happy again if you would let him in.

He was kind of glad your ex-boyfriend was out of the picture, though it was a selfish thing to say. He desperately wanted to claim you, wanted to be your last and only boyfriend.

He’d been going on dates with you for a few months now. You were perfect, almost too perfect if he would say. You were practically his dream girl, so kind and generous. So sweet and loving. Pretty much everybody in this neighbourhood would agree with him and he sometimes wondered if he really deserved you. A beauty mingling with a beast. No one would ever want to see that, after all, even the beast turned into a handsome prince at the end of the fairytale.

Bucky wondered, if you found out what he did every night after you were asleep or what he took from your closet when you were away, would you still want him? If you found out the beast within him, would you still love him the same?

His thoughts were occupied and it wasn’t until the sharp pain in his fingers that he snapped out of his trance.

“Fuck!” You heard him cursing and went to him, gasping when you saw the streams of blood flowing from the deep cut from two of his fingers.

Hastily reaching out for the clean cloth from one of the drawers, you placed it over the wound, applying pressure on them.

The red quickly seeped through the pristine white cloth, two colours clashing as the red engulfed the white.

Bucky noticed you wincing at the red, gulping at the sight, head slightly turned away. It was obvious you were uncomfortable at the sight of blood, so he took the cloth himself and nudged you to wash the faint hint of blood on your palms.

“Sorry, now you might have to do this alone,” Bucky gestured at the ingredients on the counter, “and sorry for the cloth, blood stains are quite hard to get rid off.”

“Don’t you worry, a little hydrogen peroxide and the cloth will be as good as new,” Bucky let you tend to his wounds and pushed him towards the living room where he would sit at the couch for the next hour while you were busy at the kitchen preparing dinner.

While he was in the living room, he took in the interior of your house. He never got to take a close look, as he always had to sneak in when it was dark. The beige colour walls, cream coloured furnitures, books arranged perfectly on the floating shelves. The pictures and art hung on the clean walls, not one of them is crooked. The square coffee table with only the remote and a display plant on it, and when he shifted himself to sit at the center of the couch, did he realize the coffee table was lined up perfectly in the middle of the TV and the couch.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, he didn’t depict you as a meticulous person. No wait, whenever he went out with you, you’d arrange the plates to sit between the utensils perfectly. When you get boba, the straws must precisely be in the center of the cup, and if you missed it, your eyebrows would furrow in annoyance subconsciously.

His eyes wandered over to your figure in the kitchen and was not surprised to find you wiping and hanging the cutting board on the ceramic wall, adjusting it with your fingers so it wouldn’t be crooked while waiting for the stew to simmer.

You caught him looking at you and threw a smile at him in which he reciprocated, then continued to let his eyes wander through your living room. This could easily be an IKEA showroom, he thought.

Another week went by, Bucky found himself more and more in love with you, if that was possible in the first place as if he didn’t already dedicate all the space in his heart for you.

You were both in the kitchen again. This time however, he was busy mixing the sugar, flour, and cocoa powder mixture, with you snuggling behind him, arms circling his waist as you watched him do the magic.

He felt sorry for not helping last time so he was making up to you by baking some brownies.

As you both were cleaning up, brownies baking in the oven, Bucky turned to you.

“Hey, I never asked, but what do you do for a living?” He questioned nonchalantly while wiping the huge plastic bowl.

The wet spatula fell from your grip, dropping into the sink of water, droplets of soapy liquid flecked on your shirt.

“O-oh, i’m an artist!” You let out a laugh to conceal your flustered state, “Aspiring artist to be exact.”

“An artist,” he hummed, as if chewing onto the meaning of the word, “could you show me your works?”

Your head whipped towards his direction, mouth parted in surprise. Nobody has ever appreciated your dream. Your family, your friends, your ex-boyfriends, all of them claimed that being an artist would lead you to being unsuccessful, and you deemed to prove them wrong.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you were overjoyed. Abandoning the half-washed utensils, you clasped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to follow you towards the second floor, into a room hidden behind another beige coloured door, where you kept all your works.

Rows of headless mannequins clothed in white dresses painted with red blossoms appeared before him as you pushed open the door.

He was utterly mesmerized. He trailed his gaze across the display, a smile painted his lips as he deduced that every piece of them was unique. No two dresses had the same pattern.

Some had plain red blossoms splattered on it, some had dark red waves littering on the bottom hem; some with brush strokes of red. There was also a different tone of red, bright and dark or somewhat in between.

“Wow, this is just … amazing!” He found himself at a loss for words, “are those blood?”

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought you don’t like blood?” Bucky teased.

“These are animal blood. I’m fine with it as long as it’s not coming out from a human,” you retorted.

He chuckled. Once again admiring the intricate patterns of your works, marvelling at how talented and perfect you were. His heart sank at the thought of the question he frequently found himself asking, how can someone so perfect like you end up with someone less than perfect like him.

You apparently noticed his changed demeanor as you inched yourself closer to pull him into an embrace, placing your chin on his chest, eyes searching for his sad blue ones.

“Are you okay?” He hugged you tighter, sighing.

“I’m fine. I just … I think you’re perfect and you’re everything I've ever wanted. But I'm not sure if I'm perfect enough for you.”

“Oh James, you’re more than enough. I assure you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too.”

Bucky felt like his heart was filled to the brim with adoration, butterflies erupted from his stomach. Your assurance was everything to him, keeping his wandering soul anchored and he was grateful for it, grateful for your existence. The more the reason to cage you by his side so you couldn’t ever leave him.

His lips were on yours the next second, his grip on your waist tightened as you deepened the kiss, tongue finding his; busy hands sliding from his stomach to his shoulder.

Both of you were drowning in this ecstasy, unwilling to part away from each other’s touch.

The loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. Momentarily parting from each other, you stared at him with a heated glance. His eyes were hooded, filled with lust, desire.

“Fuck the brownies,” you whispered, molding your soft lips on him once again, the hunger for each other far greater than the stupid brownies, “need you now.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, large hands cupping your bottom as you hopped and hooked your legs behind him, arms instinctively went to his shoulders for support.

He brought the both of you to your room, the one he was all too familiar with, the one with the same cream coloured theme which could definitely pass as another IKEA showroom judging by how perfect the layout was.

The only odd thing that stood out in this far too perfect room was the trail of scratch marks extending from the door frame to the wall outside of the room.

The deep scratch marks were somehow etched deep in his brain, he couldn’t let it go. It felt as if there was a dot of blank ink on a piece of white paper, and even though there was more white than black, you’d only be fixated on the dot of black.

He would ask you about the haunting marks on the wall and your fingers that were tracing patterns on his skin would falter, you’d give him the warm smile he loved while brushing it off saying it was the huge Dobermann your aunt owned which did that.

Even when he was balls deep in you, the vivid image of the scratch marks were there in his head, though you were quick to draw back his attention with a grind on his hips, both of your bodies covered with sheen of perspiration. Strands of your hair sticking to your body, but you pay no care to them as you rocked your hips, chanting his name over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer.

His eyes were on your fucked out state, his grip on you like steel. The cool surface of his metal arm contrasted with your hot flushed body as you chase your high like a traveller chasing the oasis in a desert, desperate for a quench of thirst.

Even when he was chasing the same high, vision blinding with bliss, the marks were still there and this time they were accompanied by the white dresses painted with red, and red only.

Bucky was always a doubtful person. Doubting every single decision he’d ever made. Doubting himself, doubting others. But there was one thing he was certain of, there was something less than innocent lurking underneath your skin. Of course, he was still head over heels for you but he was pretty adamant to find out the sinister in you, hoping it would answer his questions, mainly the recurring image of a certain mark.

Bucky was a lot of things, dumbass , dork, clumsy(per sam), but he was not stupid. Hell, he was far from stupid. Those scratch marks, definitely not the Dobermann.

You were a perfectionist, you couldn’t possibly leave the mark there and acted like nothing happened in the first place. He’d imagine if it was the dog, you’d probably have someone fix the dent the same day, unwilling to allow even a speck of blemish in your flawless house.

Bucky was a lot of things, and being a dumbass was definitely one of them as he was showing up on your porch in the evening unannounced.

He’d considered sneaking in like he used to do but he knew, he saw that you were still in the house. He couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize your relationship with him knowing he’d get caught.

He knocked on your door, hearing footsteps paddling, rushing to him.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened at the sight of an awkward Bucky. Although you were quick to throw him an unalarming smile, he still caught the nervousness in you.

There was something off with you. The disheveled hair, thin layer of sweat adorning the crown of your head, unknown wet liquid staining your shirt.

He caught a whiff of the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the door, it smelled a lot like bleach.

“I’m sorry,” he scratched at the back of his neck, “is this not a good time?”

“It’s fine, come on in.”

The smell of bleach invaded his nose the moment he stepped into your house, flooding and overwhelming his senses causing him to wince.

“Were you deep cleaning?”

“Yeah, I accidentally spilled some of the animal blood this morning. Had to use hell lots of hydrogen peroxide to get rid of them. Sorry for the smell.”

“No no, it’s okay. Let me just open the windows and door, okay?” He was getting a little light-headed now, desperately needing some fresh air. “Doll, you need to ventilate every time you use bleach, it’s harmful for your health to inhale all these fumes.”

You blushed at the term of endearment, yet wanting to blame him for not calling you that earlier.

He went over to open the windows, sighing contentedly at the waves of fresh air hitting his face as the wind blew in.

He felt your arms snaking around him, head leaning against his broad back.

“I love you, James. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“I love you too.” He turned around and hugged you, his chin propped on your head, not knowing you had a solemn expression on your face.

He’d spent the evening with you, watching TV on the couch with you in his lap. It was so mundane yet he’d never got bored of this, wanting to do this with you for the rest of his life.

Outside the window, the orange and yellow sky faded into darkness.

“Let’s order take out, how about Thai food?”

“I’ll cook,” you kissed him on the lips and got up from his lap before he could reply anything.

“Ok, you need help?” He heard a faint ‘no, it’s fine’ coming out of the kitchen followed by the clanking of pots and utensils.

His neck stretched to peek at your figure in the kitchen, too busy chopping up ingredients to notice he was no longer at the living room.

He made his way down the basement, where the pungent smell of the bleach was still lingering.

The wood creaked as he stepped on the stairs, announcing his arrival to the darkness surrounding the basement. The soft glow of light illuminated the large space, a wall of tins stacking on each other revealed to him. A few easels of different sizes were propped on the wall with several grey aprons hanging beside them.

He walked closer to examine the insane amount of tins. A small label that said Pig blood was stickered on the body of the white tin.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Do people really sell animal blood in metal tins, wouldn’t they go bad?

There were loads of questions in Bucky’s head, questions with answers only you could provide.

He noticed a chest freezer sitting in the corner of the basement and his legs brought him to it before he came to realize. The whole basement was so quiet he could hear the soft ringing in his ears, the racing of his heartbeat amplified as his hand inched towards the lid.

There was nothing in the freezer, to his surprise.

The empty freezer stared back at him, as if mocking his fruitless attempt. He was relieved, or disappointed, he couldn’t tell the difference and there was no point in distinguishing them now since you had nothing to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to find in the freezer.

“Babe?” You stood behind him with an apron on, a knife in your hand, a second after he closed the door to the basement.

He leaned against the door frame, hand went to his head, eyes squeezed shut as he pretended he was having a headache.

“Felt dizzy all of a sudden, I was just making my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. I was just about to tell you dinner's almost ready,” a tooth-rotting smile was plastered on your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he watched as you walked away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. His palm was clammy, heart beating rapidly.

“I love you,” You placed your hand on his arm, eyes meeting his.

“I know, doll. I love you too.”

This was seconds before dinner.

“James, I love you.” You whispered, watching him giving you a grin before he stuffed the meatball into his mouth.

“Wow, I'm so loved today. It’s the secon- no, third time you’ve said ‘I love you’ to me today.” He grinned, heart bursting with love. “You know I love you too.”

This was mid-dinner.

“I love you so much, James.”

Bucky was getting suspicious of you. Were you hiding something, perhaps cheating on him? For there were no reasons for you to keep telling him you loved him even though he knew how much you loved him and vice versa.

“I love you,” you kissed his knuckles, “this might be the last time I get to say I love you, James.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your statement, mouth parting to question what you meant. Before he could voice out something, the world faded into nothingness.

A thin film of blurriness clouded his eyes when he opened them, Bucky had this feeling like he was drowning in a swamp and his whole body was bound.

Blinking furiously, he regained his vision. You were sitting on a chair leaning forwards while looking at him endearingly, your elbows propped on your knees, palms supporting your chin.

“Hello, my love,” you were smiling oh so sweetly. The same smile that got him mesmerized and head over heels, except this time he didn’t feel the warm fuzzy feeling exploding in his chest, this time it was the goosebumps crawling on his arms and the chill creeping up his spine.

Now everything made sense, every single of his questions was answered.

You looked down at his body, the one that was once full of life, full of love. You watched as his glassy blue eyes etched with fear quickly reduced into this grey lifeless orbs, still pretty but lacking the element of a beautiful soul.

You weep for him, mourn for him. Mourning the short duration of love shared between the both of you. Mourning for yourself, for falling too hard. Mourning for him who kept you always in his heart.

To be honest, you were a little hesitant to end his life, he was better than the last one. He was perfect, warm, kind, loving, gentle, but not perfect enough. He simply did not reach your expectations, and you, could not bear imperfections, even the slightest. The answer to his downfall was pretty easy, he was too close to the ugly truth. And despite you knowing his love for you outweighs his doubt and fear in you, you simply couldn’t risk it.

Your love for perfection exceeds your love for him.

The melodious music of your ringtone echoed in the ample space of the basement, you brought up your phone to your ears as you answered the call.

“Mrs. Lockwood? Yes. Of course. I did. No no no, I’ll do it for you this time. He would definitely taste delicious I assure you.”

Time to get to work, you sighed as you stood there with a white dress splattered with blood. How artistic, you thought.

You always loved this part of the process, you’d wear the whitest piece of dress you own whenever you work with your projects.

You loved how the blood peppered your clothes, forming blossoms of dark red flowers on the fabric.

You kept every single piece of them, because no two are the same. Every one of them tells a story, of men and women who loved you and who you loved, of those who were once a body with a soul.

Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave Bucky one last loving look and the blade of your butcher knife came in contact with his once pink but now pale skin as you hummed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement, forming echoes.

A few blocks away, a baby cried, body covered in mucus. The tiny infant cried, each time louder than the previous, wailing his lungs out, as if mourning. For one soul born, another reaped.

[rumblelibrary]

Hello, it's me again, your friendly neighborhood... Hungarian?!...👀❤️

Can I request a Sebastian Zöllner fic, where he is a coworker of Reader, and there's an obvious sexual tension, attraction in the office, they sit opposite each other, legs touching sometimes, hands touching... Idunno... Things like this 👀🔥 but nothing happened... Yet...🔥🔥

Never an Enemy [Sebastian Zöllner x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 5k

Warnings: A bad mouthed journalist with strong opinions about art and performance that might offend

Author’s note: Did I let this idea simmer in me for ages? Yes. Did I ever stopped thinking about it? NO.

You hummed softly while the music blasted in your headphones as you made your way up the stairs to the headquarters of the Art Tribune, the art focused magazine you worked for since over a year.

You liked the job even if to deal with artists was hard and the pay check could really deserve an improvement, it was stimulating and surely kept you on the edge. That morning in particular you needed to revise some background stories and just loads of reading to do to work on a new article for an upcoming exhibition. Just the usual fact checking, but you just couldn’t do it at home the day before so you decided to come early and enjoy some peace and quiet at the office.

You arrived at the top of the stairs of the fourth floor with a groan, you told yourself you had to do the stairs because you spent 70% of your life sitting in front of a computer, kind of self care, but brutal. You groaned lightly going straight toward the little kitchen installed for the team when you noticed something in the empty shared room full of desks. It was actually a really nice place with big industrial style windows that let lots of light inside, a very smart environment to work in, with areas where you could relax, free Wifi and loads of facilities. Usually people were put in big desks together, facing each other, trying to push a sort of ‘community feeling’.

Inevitably most of the people created barricades with books, and pictures of their dogs or even empty coffee cups. Yes, all cute and artistic, but do not talk to me.

That’s what also the attitude of the man you shared your desk with on your first day. He whined like a child for twenty minutes, complained he was happy to work alone, followed the assistant of the editor around the office and created a barricade of catalogues between the two of you so thick that you wondered if it was also bulletproof, only to rest his elbows over it half an hour asking if you had the change for the vending machine. Yes, that random man was you colleague and friend, Sebastian Zöllner.

The same that you are witnessing now asleep on the desk, head resting on his crossed arms while a stand of saliva went down on his shirt, wild hair and shoes taken off.

He could be considered an attractive man if he wasn’t a bloody nightmare of a person. You actually worked a lot with him and enjoyed his presence most of the days, your characters folded nicely and you would bounce off his attitude. He was strong on biographies and annoying the shit out of others, so he was always nagging at someone, you included.

You smirked slowly tracing his hair with your fingers, he never looked so innocent and you were always surprised to learn how those messy hair were so soft. It wasn’t the first time you did that gesture, sometimes he did lean his head like this only to be touched like an annoying mewling cat that needs attentions. “Kaffee” He mumbled making you chuckle, such a an annoying brat and he didn’t even open his eyes.

You carried on walking to the little kitchen room to prepare some coffee for you and your desk partner. You shook your head aimlessly as you started wondering why the man is here at this hour and if it was really a good idea to wake him up. To have him awake means to be able to do little to zero.

You watched the coffee get ready, the comforting tune of your morning playlist getting you still on the good side of your mood as you poured the coffee in your mug.

Then you saw it, an arm sneaking in front of you and taking the mug from your hand, you jump scared in a second almost pouring the rest of the coffee on the whole kitchen counter only to encounter Sebastian sleepy figure behind you bringing the mug close to his nose and inhaling deeply the aroma before having a gulp, you stared at him as his jaw clenched, his eyes got a bit teary. “Fucking hot” he whined making you chuckle, he deserved it for stealing it, luckily you were already doing some more for him so he stole your favourite mug but you had some coffee for you left.

You pulled off your headphones leaning them on your neck “No idea you’d be sleeping at the office, weren’t you off on some interview ?”

He shrugged “yeah, well me neither, but interviewing sculptors is always annoying as shit and those are always supersensitive” he said opening the freezer and pulling out some ice cubes from their box and putting them in the coffee mug. “Scheiße!” He cursed as the ice cube landing in the mug caused the coffee to spill onto his white shirt. You pressed your lips tight against each other not to laugh into his face, but he was already pissed off and it wasn’t even proper work time. You watched him lean over the sink trying to wash it off somehow without even bothering to take it off, just adding chaos on chaos.

“Y/N! Do not laugh and try to help me! Beside, the heck are you doing here at this hour?” You rolled your eyes at that comment, but you didn’t indulge him in that request.

“I was just looking for silence”

He nodded like he didn’t believe a single word of it, he was just an asshole and you had to deal with it like it or not. You almost hated how he was so freaking good at writing and that’s probably why many people indulged him. Even you knew his pieces on the magazine and didn’t expect to find out he was so…so Sebastian.

You let out a breathy chuckle taking your mug and making your way to your joined desk letting him wrestle his balance over the kitchen sink trying to get the stain wet and not shower himself in the meanwhile.

You sat down at your spot leaning the mug on side, hands covering your face trying to keep a clear mind letting out a big breath “okay, let’s do this”

You turned on the lamplight on your desk pulling out your laptop from your backpack. As the computer was ‘waking up’ you stared at Sebastian side of the desk compared to yours.

You had like a little citadel of books around you, but it was pretty neat, a little succulent gifted by your friend for your first day at work with the name tag ‘Danny’ on it sitting beside the lamp, lots of pencils and pens of different colours and notebooks to no end. If you had something in common with that beast of a man was that you both still relied on paper for sketching ideas and write down impressions in the moment, then onto the typing.

His side, however, was like a contemporary artwork in itself. Half empty cigarettes packages everywhere, the ashtray filled up, paper inside books and books filled with more papers. Notes everywhere, the damn king of neon yellow post-its, stains of coffee and crumbles of food invert corner, his red laptop showing off like a punch in the eye and his satchel bag always hang or thrown around.

You often wondered if the cleaning stuff just gave up on him. Your lucky guess was that he would probably throw a fit if anything was moved, so everyone just played the blind eye.

He was good at throwing fits.

You watched him come back sitting in front of you, half of his shirt soaked in the attempt to clean it up, he licked his lips picking one empty package of cigarettes looking in it and throwing it away until he found one with still something in it and he lighted his cigarette as he turned on his laptop. You sighed opening the window to let the fresh air not getting you intoxicated.

You went back to sip your coffee and stare at the screen quietly, every now and then your eyes falling onto the little cloud of smoke in front of you.

Sebastian was an attractive man, that was undeniable and you were sure that made him also a successful interviewer even though he was so random and chaotic, when he was silent and collected in thoughts he was indeed a sight to be seen. The dark hair framing his face like he was some cherub, his deep eyes staring into the void of his own words as he typed. He had a sort of decadent look on him.

Slowly the office begun to get filled, people coming here and there to tease Seb about coming early and he just waving his cigarette around asking for silence.

“Zöllner””

The chief editor shouted getting into his office without even turning around. Seb rolled his eyes looking at you as he pushed the cigarette in the ashtray waving his hand around to dissipate the smoke around him before standing up.

“I wonder how he managed to survive few days without shouting my name” he smirked.

You looked at him and mimicked his smirk.

What a chaotic man.

You had finished your reading by then and started to make a first draft of the article you were meant to work on.

“Y/N!!!” Sebastian voice rang through the office making you jump on your seat and he gestured at you to go with him with a big wave of his arm.

You looked at your screen with an helpless sigh, it seems like you will not write that article anytime soon, you’d better just have slept an hour more.

You stood up following that incessant wave as Seb put his hand on your back to get you in a bit quicker.

“Good morning”

You said as the chief editor nodded quietly “Look Y/N, it is a big favour I have to ask you” he begun frankly as you were beginning to get worried “you did your time with silly articles, so I thought it could be interesting to pair you up with Sebastian to go to tonight’s exhibition of Evita Schnecke”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Sebastian shrug his shoulders.

“I need somebody to keep the horse with tight rains” Mr Megelbach continued gesturing with his pen at Sebastian and then at you “and you will dip your toes in those big time artists environment, but we really need to make sure Sebastian won’t hurt anyone’s sensibility, her interview has been obtained with lots of hard work”

“Yeah, we all know that hard work” Sebastian whispered in your ear earning a glare from Mr Megelbach who handed you a couple of catalogues from that artist and the invitation.

“So, put on hold your current article for today, make a plan with this train wreck and please make sure he doesn’t show up dressed like that”

“That was unneeded”

“All precautions are always needed with you, and now get out of my office the both of you”

You nodded moving out of the office, you were a bit anxious. Those artists were unpredictable just as Sebastian.

You made your way back to your desk with him as you sat down looking at the invitation. “So, it begins at 9 pm” you said almost understanding why Sebastian shouldn’t be allowed to go unescorted because the invitation on the dress code had: Wear something that talks about your soul. Only that could bring Sebastian to have an aneurism.

“I hate that bitch”

“Seb, that’s not a good start for an article”

He smirked as you said so but shrugged

“I mean it, this woman was born into privilege, she portrayed herself to be this underground rebel, but her simple black dress was a Chanel and her everyday boot Balenciaga, so I don’t trust her for a reason”

You smirked as you could agree with that and showed him the two catalogues the boss gave you

“Choose your fighter”

He groaned so loud he could have stabbed his toe and he leaned over his side of the desk picking one from your hand giving a light pinch on your side “teacher’s pet”. You chuckled softly as he always said that.

“Tell me if you read something that it is not about the performer’s way of life” he mumbled opening it in front of him.

You begun your reading and it was indeed the hell pit of a vey spoiled kid who was told to be the greatest since the first day of life, you picked your notebook and opened it taking notes on things that you could ask about.

Sebastian in the meanwhile lighted up another cigarette rolling it between his fingers mindlessly, his eyes looking above the paper at you every now and then among the little curses in German about the stupid things written there.

After some time it was becoming really a torture to read and you leaned your back on your chair stretching your legs forward for Seb to catch one of them among his.

You smirked as you often joked to him he was like some bear trap with those legs always catching yours.

He put his hand under the table bringing your leg up onto his thigh as you shifted even lower on your seat, his hand touching your ankle mindlessly as he had a talent for little massages like that. He did it the first time a while aback, a summer day where it was so hot and humid that you couldn’t feel your own legs.

So it became a little ritual among the two of you. You had many of those rituals, it was like an unspoken collection of attentions. Like you making the coffee in the morning because he was a grumpy ass. Or him always buying you some chewing gum or little treat when he went to buy cigarettes.

“I guess I am not the only one that needs a restyle”

He said bringing you away by the tenderness those little actions brought to you when he pushed his finger in your Vans shoe deepening a hole that you were trying to ignore from months.

“Seb, don’t do it, I wanted to make them last another season”

“Another season? These can’t last the end of the month, no doubt why your sex life is a train wreck”

You frowned at him taking your ankle off his hand to push on his chair making him roll back thanks to the little wheels underneath it, but he held on the desk and pulled himself closer again.

“What do you even know about it”

He looked at you, eyebrows raising up on his forehead

“Y/N, if I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t allow you to leave the bed that early in the morning to go to the office and that’s a fact”

“Oh, and how on heaven could you detain my passion for this job?” “Well, I can write you a list about it, you can consider it a to do list on your next date” His smirk was so wide, he enjoyed to tease you like that, the bastard, he knew to be an hottie and he always acted like half of the world was up to fuck with him.

“Oh please, do it, I want to see”

You teased him and he leaned in elbows on the table staring at you.

Oh the sexual tension with him was too much, you always went down on this hurricane of remarks, always him mentioning how you need more orgasms or implying it, or even implying how good he is at giving them.

“But be careful, because any act should be performed and not only lived”

You said quoting the artist you were reading about and he whined so hard like you really stomped your foot on his balls.

“Horrid witch”

“Me?” “No, that one”

He huffed and puffed picking another cigarette. Sometimes cigarettes just died on his fingers as he forgot to actually enjoy them more than waving them around.

The artist herself wasn’t remarkable, she used themes seen over and over before, she had a background as performer/dancer and she added painting to that, but more than talent she had an amazing marketing squad. You read her story and her commentaries about living like in a poem, which always sounds pretty easy with a big bank account.

You did all you could to stay neutral even if Seb was going down to massacre the woman, you two shared a bundle of two sandwiches (or better say, your brought a package of two and he was skipping his lunch so you just handed it to him) until you decided to get parted and go get ready at home.

That evening you were waiting for him in front of your apartment, when a taxi stopped in front of you and his figure appeared waving at you to come in on the back. His eyes widened in surprise “Well, well, well, look who got all fancy here”

He smirked as his eyes travelled on you shamelessly, the dress was actually one of those you brought ages ago and never used, also to wear heels felt like new, last time you went to a fancy event almost hard to recollect.

“Just move and let me in”

You said chuckling as you looked at him being so elegant when you noticed it, the price tag on his shirt.

“Seb, did you just buy this shirt?”

“Yes, and I am going to take it back tomorrow”

You looked at him puzzled

“What?” He groaned “I suck at ironing stuff”

You looked at him as a little laugh escaped your lips as he told you not to, but it was too late for that, you shifted closer to him anyway helping him to hide that price tag better behind his neck. Nevertheless the white shirt was really fancy and fitted him perfectly.

As you arrived in front of the gallery you sighed and made your way inside.

The place wasn’t crowded but few eyes turned as you got in.

“Would you like some champagne?” A waiter asked and Seb picked two flutes immediately downing one in a gulp on his own as the other was still in his other hand, he put the empty glass on the tray and then picked a third one handing it to you.

“Drink Y/N or you won’t make it to the end of the evening”

You smirked as he was always over dramatic, but indeed the evening seemed to be made for posh people to show off how cool they are.

You spotted the artist pretty quickly wearing a Valentino bright red dress, she surely had the dancer figure and gestures which gave her some kind of an edge.

"She is all yours"

You looked at Sebastian already half way through his drink, giving you that cheshire cat smirk.

"Are you sure?"

"You know I will insult her in a second if she names her dancing background one more time, I saw the videos, she looked like a three ready to collapse on the ground" he chuckled as you smirked shaking your head at his metaphor, but he is probably right, he is too much biased.

"I didn't notice the open back before" he said referring to your dress as he caressed over your skin with his fingertips making goosebumps raise up your spine.

"What? Am I too sexy for your own good?"

"Probably" he commented not losing a beat to answer you. You were taken aback from a moment, his eyes still down on his hand touching your back before raising up to find yours.

Then he took his hand away and pressed the cold champagne glass against it making you hiss "Now go, I'll check this bourgeois art"

You frowned but you just moved away from him. He always did it, he teased you and then made it a joke. You gave it back to him too, it was your relationship, that's how you balanced it.

"Good evening " you said to her with a smile holding your glass in your left hand before offering your right hand to her "I am Y/N, from the Art Tribune"

She went from neutral to smiling in a second

"Oh, I was waiting to meet you" she said leaning to kiss your cheek, surely she was a woman with charm, with a degree of boldness that made her charming and also, you noticed, extremely touchy-feely with everyone.

"We can define this a sort of retrospective of your previous works, I liked to see the evolution of it" you lied, because you just saw the catalogue.

But that was fair enough to have her go on about her, guess what? Past as a dancer, about how she needed to express herself, how she was her own muse and all the stuff you already read.

"What is next for you then?"

"I want to follow my dream, I have always wanted to found a space with my name where people could rent the rooms to perform dances and arts"

You stared at her. For real? Like there weren't other hundreds in the whole city?

"What will keep you apart from all the others that did this before you?"

"Nobody is me" she smirked like it was clear and obvious.

You asked few more questions, but you were sad to admit Sebastian was right. There wasn't art there, there was just profit, selling a name, a brand.

This saddened you because you met many artists that had less than a chance to make it but double the talent of Miss Valentino Dress.

"Y/N" Sebastian warm hand was on your back as you were downing the last bit of champagne "Come, come ,come quick" he said pushing you away as the artist clearly recognised him but he dismissed her with some insult or whatever he just mumbled.

"Seb, I was working, what the hell?"

"Elke is here"

You still didn't understand, you were puzzled as the reason of that anxiety was still unknown to you.

"Like your girlfriend Elke?"

"Put an ex in front of it" he said looking around frantically

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't know"

"No, me neither, I thought she was just bashing around, she always did" his arm sneaked around your waist pulling you closer "please, act sexy for once"

You were one second from hitting his guts with your elbow when Elke herself approached.

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here" she said waving her glass around

"Yeah, well I work for an important Art journal if you remember"

"How could I forget?" she groaned looking at you then as Sebastian's hand rested onto your hip. Really? Was he acting like you were his date?

"Hi, I am Y/N"

You said politely to her and she chuckled "Run when you can, this man is a leech and you don't even know it"

She mentioned it almost casually, but you could feel all the poison implied on your skin, Sebastian's hand giving you a soft squeeze, you had never seen him like this before. He looked like a dog that just got kicked, his back hunched over you lightly both trying to protect you and for protection.

"Well, thank you for your advice, I must be a real torment too because we actually have lot of fun together, I like his unpredictability"

You said it from your heart, you didn't want to insult her or anything, but you felt bad for him. Even if he probably deserved it, to be humiliated like this must be hard in any circumstance, in particular in a place where he is supposed to work and being known.

He looked at you a bit surprised, he leaned slowly pressing a kiss on your temple and you smiled because of that gesture so enveloped in that feeling of tenderness.

"Your shot" Elke said clearly a bit annoyed that you as she just moved along followed by a man that must be her date.

"Lets go out"

You suggested as Seb nodded and just followed for once, he held your hand as you guided him and for once he wasn't talking or commenting anything.

As you went out he sat down on the sidewalk pulling out his package of cigarettes taking out one immediately.

"Hey stand up" you said to him as he looked up at you and you snatched that cigarette off his lips "let's go away"

"Where? Don't we have to stay until she gets naked to dance?"

You smirked "No, we have all the material we need"

You took his cigarette away offering him your hand as he picked it and you guided him.

He was silent, which is rare, when he was silent it meant he was upset in some way, he always had a nice comeback line for everything usually.

His head leaned on side like a scolded child as he slowly laced your fingers together.

You walked across few streets, your heels clicking on the cement until you made it to your final location pulling him inside.

"Constatinopole?"

Seb asked looking at the sign, it was a kebab place, your favourite by the way.

"I am hungry" you just said making him lower his head and smile like a kid with cue breathy chuckles.

You ordered for the two of you as he went to sat down putting another cigarette between his lips when the man behind the counter glared at him and he just put it back in the package.

He sat down slouching as you did some small talks with the guys there, you clearly knew them. The soft music from the radio holding the place into a sort of magical aura as his eyes travelled over your naked back once more, the need for a cigarette becoming even more urgent.

You two dressed so elegantly really were so noticeable in the bright lightend place, he smiled to himself thinking it could be a nice painting by Hopper.

You came back offering him his kebab with a soft drink, very thoughtful because he was indeed already a bit high on champagne.

You ate quietly together, it wasn't uncomfortable, your silences were happening often at work and always filled with a sense of common understanding, you leaned your leg up like you always did at the office and rested it on his thigh as you sat sideways beside him. His hand flying naturally on your ankle to give his usual massage, his thumb tracing your skin with imaginary patterns as his other hand held the kebab close to his mouth.

The speaker at the radio announcing next song as Rocket Man by Elton John filled the room with a melancholic vibe. You couldn't help but think the song suited perfectly Sebastian, his being out of this word, out of control.

"Thank you" he said at some point as he tried his best not to ruin his shirt, you looked up at him as he was staring, his eyes telling you something on their own "You have been the best girlfriend I have ever had"

He added with a bitter smile diverting once more his gaze, you smiled back at him, he looked so resigned. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you have never seen him so fragile before.

"I could be"

His eyes darted up to you, his surprise evident as he put down the kebab, the soothing voice of the British singer still giving a dream edge to the moment as he moved closer. You slowly shifted your leg to give him room of movement as his right arm sneaked to rest on the back of your chair closing the space between the two of you.

His lips tasted still a bit of champagne as he pressed them against yours, you kissed him back slowly as his left hand travelled on your thigh pulling you closer to him probably staining your dress because of his greasy hand.

He pulled back almost immediately before leaning onto you again titling his head on the other side. This second time the kiss was more deep, more intense. Your hands slowly cradling his face before pulling back yourself.

He smiled against your lips and you smiled back.

Maybe tomorrow you will regret it like Elke said, maybe not.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahlingLet me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

[futurewriter2000]

Taking a Risk

A/N: I think I just fell in love with Ron with this one. God, I love that man. Also ginger men should have more loving. I’m so glad I got this request because I enjoyed writing this every bit.

REQUEST by @tmrwriter​: I was wondering if you could write a imagine about the reader and Ron Weasley being really obvious that they have a crush on each other, but Harry and Hermione try to push them to get together? IDK but i <3 the work u do! Keep up the great work!!

XX

It takes a lot of strength and time for a person to admit their true emotions and if emotions weren’t complicated, maybe everything would be much easier. 

You tried to ignore the butterflies and the uncomfortable heat on your cheeks as you were in the same room as him. Harry was digging deep into his potion’s essay, as well as Hermione, who was reading so fast. Both you and Ron have been trying to write the assignment for Flitwick’s class. He was sitting next to you, pretending to read the instructions for the assignment. Harry and Hermione already finished theirs, thanks to the brilliant Hermione Granger, who likes to finishe everything ahead. They had partnered up immediately after Flitwick said that the assignment must be done in pairs. Ron and you have decided to partner up as well.

That was harder than it sounded. Every time he was close to you, your body would tense up, your hands would become clammy and your cheeks were in this nice rosey colour. Every time you would glance at him, he was already watching you. His piercing blue eyes were soft on you, always were. The way he admired every little feature on you. The lines at the corners of your mouth whenever you smiled, the blush on your cheeks and the tension between your eyebrows. Every single bone in his body was telling him that everything pointed to him- that the blush on your cheeks were caused by him. 

When you caught him staring it was his turn to blush. His freckles that matched his eyes so perfectly hid under the blush of his cheeks. Sometimes you could see it reach his ears that almost glowed in a red colour. Just like him, you thought that all the signs pointed at you- that maybe, just maybe, in a glimmer of hope, you were the cause of his frustration. 

You’d bump into him- just gently enough to shake him out of his thoughts. He’d look at you with a grin and stared into your eyes until you felt your stomach twist and turn inside of you. It made you uncomfortable but excited in a pleasing way. You smiled and turned your eyes away, back into the book that you had to focus on but to God’s will, you couldn’t do it with his knee touching yours and spreading all sorts of feelings through your body. 

Oh, he did it on purpase. He wasn’t the shy, awkward kid you had met in your First year. No, something happened during the summer that made him so much more confident in himself. He’d bump his knee continuously,  teasing you even. 

You’d smile through your blush. “What are you doing?” you asked and he’d turn away with a grin. 

“Looking.” he dragged the word out as he flipped through the pages. 

He looked up at Hermione, still grinning and it didn’t last any second longer to let Hermione know what that meant. She moved her elbow a bit too fast until it hit the mug of tea and spilled it all over Harry’s essay and his robes. 

“Hermione!” Harry glared at her, feeling the boiling water scorch his skin. “That’s my assig-”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Harry!” she quickly got up, catching all of your attention. “Here- let’s go to my dorm. I think I have a book that can fix all of this.” she pulled his sleeve but Harry pulled back.

“I have all of my stuff here. Can’t you bring your book here.” he started to calm down a bit yet a little bit of anger was still present in his tone. 

Hermione couldn’t believe his brain. “No, Harry. No, I cannot.”

“Why not?” Harry kept looking as she continued to spread her eyes widely at him, glancing over at the pair.

“Because-” she tried to come up with an excuse. “-it would be faster if you take the essay before it’s too late.” 

“What?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Oh, for God’s sake Harry.” she grabbed his sleeve and started pulling him with him, grabbing the essay in as well. You could see and hear them whispering something to each other, Hermione gently hitting Harry over the head with the essay.

“What was that for?” he rubbed the back of his head.

“How dim-witted could you be, Harry?” you could hear as both of them turned around the corner and disappeared.

Both you and Ron laughed at their disappearance. 

“Tossers.” Ron chuckled under his breath, catching your attention and making your realize that you and him were completely alone in the common room. Not a soul left.

It caused the blush to creep back to your cheeks, even your ears but you tried to focus back on the book... the book that was on his side of the table. 

“Okay, so how about we finally finish this assignment today and-”

“Isn’t it due till the end of the week?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“It is but don’t you want to finish it sooner?” you asked, completely oblivious to his intention.

His smile fell into a fading frown as he turned around to the book and kept looking at you. He was a bit frustrated if he was honest with himself. This assignment gave the two of you time to spend together and you just wanted to finish this. So did that mean that you didn’t have feelings for him... not even a little bit. 

You could see him hesitating in his answer, making you a bit more aware of the true meaning of your question. 

“I guess so.” he said, forcing a smile on his face as he looked at you. 

It took you his answer to realise that you wanted to hear the opposite of what he said. It took you his answer and his hesitation to realise that this assignment gave both of you time alone and that you had done nothing but love that time alone with him. 

“Afraid of losing your reputation?” you bumped into him, trying to lighten up the mood that you had apereantly ruined. 

“What reputation?” he furrowed his eyebrows, feeling your knee pressed against him and causing him to get a bit more flustered. 

Seeing his face glow red, you felt the adrenalin pump your heart and risk the chance of getting it broken. You were done waiting for answers. You wanted to know now and the adrenalin gave you an enormous amount of courage to do so. You leaned forward, face to face as he swallowed thickly. 

Everything told you to just go for it. Every single bone in your body but you chickened out, so you reached for the book on his side and backed away slowly. 

Your heart was thumping, not only in your chest but you could feel every vein in your body press against your skin. “The one where you do everything last minute. Imagine shocking Flitwick with giving him the assignment  a day early.” you let out a nervous laugh, flipping through the pages but not really knowing what you were looking for.

He was silent for a while, trying to gather his thoughts and his body funtion because suddenly, he couldn’t move a thing- not even his mouth. 

“Uhm-” he cleared his throat, smiling a bit awkwardly. “Yeah.” he let out a gentle laugh, staring at you.

What did you just do? You leaned forward, close enough to kiss him and he caught you staring at his lips but it took you a milisecond to change your mind and back away. 

Merlin, all he wanted was to kiss you- to touch you, to hold you so close but all he did was watch you from the end of his couch. 

He stared into the piece of parchment. There was nothing written on there. The two of you have been sitting here for an hour and there was literally not even a draft- not on his side and not on yours. What did the two of you do for the entire hour if not do the assignment? 

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked on your side of the desk, finding another piece of parchment completely empty. He found you flipping through the pages of a book but your eyes were directed somewhere at the floor and your thoughts somewhere at the clouds. 

He felt himself lick his lips. You were about to kiss him, weren’t you?

He felt his confidence come back from the shadows it hid. He put the book on the desk, seeing as you have noticed it with the flick of your eyes but decided to ignore him. You didn’t say a word, only pretended to read as fast as Hermione and flip a page. The funny problem was that nobody else could read as fast as Hermione.

He felt himself smile as he approached you, slowly sitting closer and closer to you. His large hand placed itself on the top of the book and you could see nice veins pop define the lines of his hands. His nails weren’t bitten like Harry’s were but they were nicely taken care of and healthy. He pulled the book away and closed it, then putting it gently on the desk. 

You didn’t dare to look into his eyes. You knew that the moment you do, you’d melt away into a puddle of emotions. 

Your heart was pumping so hard in your chest you thought it would burst. When his nicely large hands removed themselves from the book, they followed up to your thighs and up to your own hands. They were so small compared to his and you found your fingers wonder on every freckle they had.

He smiled at the wonderfully nice and gentle reaction he got from you. It only boosted his confidence. He came too far, he was not about to back down now. 

“(y/n).” he spoke softly and quietly. “Look at me.” he continued. “I have to tell you something.”

With all your might, you looked up into his blue eyes, feeling your soul catch on fire as you did. He was smiling at you with courage but you could see flashes of anxiety come and go. 

You wanted him to tell you, tell you now. Right now!

So, you took his hands into a firmer grip and pulled them a bit closer- watching him with eyes that almost pleaded him to tell you what you wanted to hear. 

He took a deep breath in and out. This felt so much harder that he ever imagined it to be. You were his best friend and now, you were looking him with eyes that expected something and all he could hope for was that he would exceed in your expectations. 

“I like you.” he seemed to spill out, softer than he intended to. Your grip tightened and he could feel his hands squeeze as if you were expecting more. “More than friends.” he continued, raising gaze from your hands up to your eyes, only to find them glimmering in joy. Your smile was sincere and gorgeous- just like the rest of you. “And I would really, desperately want to kiss you.” he started leaning forward, seeing as you nodded gently and moved in as well. 

He was so afraid yet eager to finally get the chance to kiss you- no, not the chance. To actually, finally kiss you. 

It was just a small touch of your lips and as soon as he felt them against his own, he slipped in his tongue and deepened the kiss. His hand removed itself from yours and went up to your jaw, pulling you closer. Both of your hands went up from his abdoment to his chest, gripping and twisting the shirt in your hands. He smiled as he had felt your urge to kiss him, to feel proud of himself risking his heart to tell you what he had felt because he had felt it for so long, he almost felt himself burst. 

He removed his hands your cheeks and slid them down to your waist, gripping you firmly and pulling you onto his lap. The two of you parted only for a moment, a second, to take a breath, to look each other into the eyes filled with joy and lust. He wanted to lean in but you pressed your thumb on his lips, dragging it down and brushing it all over his lower lip. He smiled at your touch yet he still wanted more. 

“I like you too.” you said and it took him by surprise to hear you say that. He didn’t know he needed to. He thought that the kiss was just enough to prove him that you shared the same feelings as he did but saying those words to him felt even better, like a conformation. 

“Good. Because this would have been awkward if you didn’t.” he smiled and you laughed, pulling him into another kiss. 

[blingywitch]

Good feelings

Ohmygod hi!! Long time no see—well, in the form of something I’ve written anyways. Here is something that has been in my drafts for forever that I finally got around to finishing.

It’s a O’knutzy coffee shop au! I’m not sure if this has been done before but I tried to switch mine up as much as possible... so yeah that’s that. For some context, Finn and Leo still play for the lions (along with the rest of the team) and Logan... well, you’ll see what he’s doing with his life :))

This will be multiple chapters and now that I think about it I probably should have waited until I had some of the them written— or even planed out for that matter— before putting this out but I was just too excited.

Sorry for the long ass introduction, I think that’s all I wanted to say. I hope you enjoy this little story I’m writing :)

Full Masterlist & Good Feelings Masterlist

Characters belong to the lovely, @lumosinlove

CW: mentions of food

“C’mon!” Finn singsonged as he dragged Leo by the hand down the street.

A new coffee shop had opened up in downtown Gryffindor recently and being the coffee Addicts they were, Finn and Leo had gotten up bright and early and decided that they would go try it out. So slipping on their shoes and coats the couple set off in search for the warm beverage.

“My god, Finn how do you have this much energy right now?” Leo questioned, having to jog slightly to keep up with him. Stifling a yawn he continued, “Before your coffee?!”

“I don’t know.” Finn shrugged. “I’m just- excited? I have a good feeling about this place.” Finn slowed his pace, and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. “...and I want a croissant.” The redhead admitted.

Leo chuckled and pressed a kiss to Finn’s temple. “Of course you do.” Finn just smiled.

A couple a blocks and a right turn later the two had reached their destination. In front of them was a small building, made of tan coloured bricks and with glass windows covering just about the entire front of it, an open sign shining in one of them. There was a few sets of tables and chairs outside shaded by a striped canopy and Leo could hear soft music coming out of the open door. Finn looked around, searching for the name of the place until his eyes landed on a sign to their left, ‘Tremblay’s’ it said, in elegant cursive.

Finn pointed the sign out to Leo, “Tremblay’s huh?” Leo paused, taking one last look over the place. “Sounds cool, let’s go.”

The blonde took the lead and walked forward, stopping just before he walked in. Moving to the side he said, “After you.” and motioned for Finn to go ahead.

Rolling his eyes playfully Finn walked through the door, Leo following his actions.

The pair were immediately taken by surprise; despite the openness of the coffee shop, from the inside it felt quite small— a good small. It felt warm and cozy and had a weird sense of home. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling and sat in the corner, a record player—Playing the music Leo recognized from earlier.

The place smelled like fresh baked goods and Finn could faintly make out the smell of vanilla, he wasn’t normally a person for sweet things but whatever was causing that smell he wanted immediately. Turning to Leo he said, “Nice place.”

“Yeah,” Leo looked around and spotted a table in the corner and took Finn’s hand in his. “let’s go sit down.”

After pulling a chair out for his boyfriend the blonde took his coat off, draping it over the back of his own chair and sat down. “So,” he asked. “What are you ordering?”

Finn leaned his elbows on the table and looked down at the small menu set before them. It consisted of pastries and breakfast sandwiches and of course, coffee beverages of every kind. “I honestly don’t know, everything looks so good.”

“Let me see?” Leo asked softly.

Finn handed the menu over to him and in the process of doing so, reached over and laced their fingers back together over the table.

It still felt strange, being able to do this in public. Kiss and hold hands and be more than just teammates, be a couple. Sometimes one of them would forget and freak out when the other gave them a kiss after a good goal— or save; or a hug that would last longer than what would be considered “normal”. They would soon realize though, that they could do this now. They were out to the world, the league, and they couldn’t be happier about it.

They looked at their options for a little while longer, pointing out things that they thought they would like, which to be honest, was basically the entire menu. “Why does everything look so fucking good?!” Finn had said. Then followed by asking if they could just order one of everything. He received a scolding for that, Leo saying as good as that sounds it definitely was not on their diet plan.

“Oh, this looks good! Look,” Leo was about to point something out to Finn but before he had the chance to respond he was interrupted.

“Bonjour, welcome to Tremblay’s,” The new voice said, “I’m Logan. What can I get for you two?”

Finn looked up at the stranger and my god he didn’t think he would ever want to look away. This stranger— ‘Logan’ his name tag said— was gorgeous. He had green eyes, the kind you could get lost in if you stared for too long and brown curls that were mostly covered by a snapback but Finn could see they ended at the nape of his neck. He wanted to run his hands trough them— “No. Stop it,” Finn thought. “That’s weird.”

“Holy shit.” Was the only coherent thought in Leo’s head when he met the boys eyes— he’d heard him introduce himself as “Logan”. Leo discovered he liked that name; he repeated it to himself in his head, “LoganLoganLogan— Finn.” Shaking his head slightly to get rid of the sudden thoughts Leo took a final look at Logan, he was definitely shorter than himself and Finn but he was broader, shoulders and arms straining against his t-shirt— Okay Leo seriously had to stop. This was getting creepy.

Logan screwed up his face a little, like he was getting uncomfortable and it was just then that the two realized they hadn’t said anything yet.

Leo cleared his throat. “Oh, um... sorry. Finn?”

Finn’s head snapped back to his boyfriend— his boyfriend. The redhead internally scolded himself for having those thoughts about this boy. He had a boyfriend— one that he loved. “Right, uhh, I’ll have....” He trailed off, ordering, Leo right after.

Logan nodded, “Alright, sounds good. I’ll be back with that, you guys sit tight.” He smiled politely and made his way back behind the front counter and trough a door that must have been to the kitchen.

Finn took a deep breath and tore his eyes away from where Logan had disappeared. “You okay?” He asked Leo, concerned.

“Hm? Oh. Yeah.” Leo replied. His bottom lip was between his teeth and he was wringing his hands together on top of the table— having since let go of Finn’s hand— eyes cast down on them. He looked similar to how Finn felt.

After a couple minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence—which was really strange for them. Nothing was ever awkward or uncomfortable with them, not since they got together anyways— Logan returned with their food and drinks.

“Okay, so, we have the breakfast sandwich and the black coffee for you.” Logan placed Finn’s coffee and sandwich in front of him—made with a croissant instead of a bagel of course. “And just the medium two sugar two cream for you.” He handed Leo his coffee.

“Thanks.” Leo said, looking up at Logan.

“No problem!” Logan replied, emerald eyes tearing into Leo’s baby blue.

Logan abruptly looked away then, and when he turned to smile at Finn the redhead could have swore his cheeks had turned a light shade of pink. Finn gave him a polite smile of thanks and Logan turned around, he watched as walking away, the boy took his hat off and ran his hand trough his curls, only to put it right back on.

Having their morning coffee it seemed, eased whatever weird silence had fallen over the couple. In no time the two were back to their normal selves. Sipping on their coffee they talked about anything and everything; from their predictions for the upcoming hockey season or just what they were going to do later today.

Soon enough though, stomachs full and cups empty, Finn and Leo were ready to leave. A girl who’s name they found out was ‘Noelle’ had come around and handed them their check and then the couple was off, putting their coats back on and dropping their cups in the trash on the way out.

“So,” Leo spoke up, leading them out the door. “Was your ‘good feeling’ about this place correct?”

Finn brought a hand up to his chin and put on a face of fake thought. Staying like that for a couple seconds he removed his hand from his chin and placed it on Leo’s, pulling him in for a kiss. “Yeah,” he said, pulling away. “I think it was.”

What they didn’t know at the time was that the ‘good feeling’ was not from what they thought it was.

[riisinaakka-draws]

part 5/6

5th part of my Black Sails scraps and doodles from 2016–2021. Not in any particular order.

And of course, please do not steal and repost elsewhere! But if you do get inspired, feel free to make your own interpretations :D

This time I have black and white Walrus study, Monsterman gifs, discarded inktober doodles, vane-jack-anne and jack-anne-max and max-eleanor moments, surprise collars, not-so-relaxing-asmr, daddies, another gazing lesbian, curious tentacles, biker girls, more speed with "black sails" and “oh no!” (I swear these are not as sexy as the list might make it sound...)

Under the cut, because this is a very long post again.

Above is the drawing I made for the Flint on “STAGE” pic (2020), although I think I already fixed some of the perspective mistakes after scanning it. I wanted to study the Walrus’ balcony but didn’t really have proper pictures so had to guess some parts. Also at this point I think I didn’t even want to draw Flint in yet.

I mentioned in the art post that I was listening to Lordi’s “Would You Love A Monsterman”  but it was also because it had the same working music and inspiration as my very old project of making a drawn(!) gif serie with the lyrics (because I didn’t want to make a fan vid... lol) and since that has been on hold for a few years (I mean, I started it right after season 2 aired and ended and then continued it while the s3 was going on...) and I really really wanted to share the idea already after sitting on it for so long xD

And I’m mentioning it now again although I won’t share all the notes because there’s just too much stuff... and the timing is off in the gifs and text a bit hard to read at some points, but you’ll probably get the idea!

Here’s a couple of the gif drafts and experiments from the “monsterman-gif” project I had (somewhere between 2015-2016-2017?):

(Also, I copied the menacing Flint from the drawing above when I was planning the set up for the “STAGE” art! :D)

(all of these were pencil / water-soluable graphite sticks + water and black watercolour drafts before I continued them on photoshop)

(hmm, I think I had a different version of this gif somewhere but it’s buried somewhere in the wip folders...anyway)

There reason I didn’t share them earlier is because I wanted everything to be ready and then... just didn’t do it. Also s3 and then s4 aired and I wanted to include something from there but things spiraled into even more complicated so I just left it to brew, lol). The whole thing is like 80% ready with the 10-11 gifs so maybe someday I’ll share the rest of it.

Next, some old inktober doodles (2017):

The prompt was “poison”. I liked the upper part but not Silver’s face and the bottle’s bottom with the spiky crown and pearls (and infinity loop) felt somewhat clumsy. I’m not even sure what I was thinking with this piece...

Another inktober, prompt “underwater” and in this case of course “underwater training” as Vane is teaching Jack and Anne to swim and dive and guerilla attack ships. I liked the idea but not how Vane turned out and I didn’t want to start over, lol.

An early version of the “G’morning, love” (posted in 2019). At first Anne was wearing a shirt but I wanted them all to be bare and open with each other. Although Jack’s scarf stays on, lol! Working title was also “AnneToulouse” because there’s a painting called “Sleeping” by Henry de Toulouse-Lautrec and I wanted to catch that mood a bit. Around the same time I was also working with the “LaundressFlint” aka “Would you still recognize me?” (posted in 2020).

Next, experimenting with “slices”, like how much story can you fit into a tiny slice?

“Betsy come here!” early sketches. Silver peeking under the desk and Flint’s boots as he caught them. There was also slightly NSFW-version, although I shared it only on discord, I think:

(I wasn’t quite happy with Silver’s face and run out energy to fix things...)

Next, the ASMR AU, 2020. (yeah it was my prompt that I submitted to the challenge... and couldn’t resist illustrating... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

The messy idea and further planning:

Still a few more doodles on this post!

Plans for “I will be your Daddy” or The Next Top Daddy for Vane (2019)

The “like, 30 brothers” that Anne mentions here are the other pirates and captains in the room and the nine step moms (or well, ex-step moms?) are the Blackbeards (ex)wives lol.

awww, this was a nice maxanor piece! I actually like Max’ face here more than in the final result (2017)...

Above, the first idea sketch for the Merbutt piece and the original colour scheme (2019).

Above, an early sketch about Eleanor and Max (finished in 2020) and tbh I liked this composition and style a bit more but for some reason I got caught up honing too much and thinking too much about heights, perspectives, where to put their hands etc... Eleanor had a short hair here and this had more a rockabilly mood.

first(?) sketch for the “black sails” shenanigans (finished in 2018). I really liked Flint’s ninja style and in the last pic’s sketch there’s also someone holding Flint’s coat/cape to be an extra-extra “sail” lol. Tumblr flagged the finished art post at the time, because of the Walrus’ figurehead and her shapes but luckily the appeal went through...

Last pic for this post!

draft for the drawing where Flint accidentally cuts Silver’s hair while they are training sword fighting, oh noooo~

So as you can see, sometimes my drafts are very loose sketches and sometimes very heavy with thoughts and inspiration (so much so that they end up in the never-ending-pile).

Thank you for checking this out, I hope you had fun! :D

[roseyserpents]

Existing in Remembrance

Summary: Sweet Peas other half had been ripped away from him and he struggles with living with the overwhelming memories

Word count: 2,081

Warnings: death, grieving, cursing, tiny mention of sex

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and just finished it. Sorry.

Posted: February 27, 2020 11:29 PM CT

That morning it was hard to get out of bed. That wasn't the only thing, though. It was hard to wake up. To open his eyes. To breathe. To exist. Everything hurt as he lied staring at the ceiling. His bed felt empty and cold with only him in it, void of extra warmth and a pair of arms wrapped around him. It was quiet without the sound of gentle snoring or early morning chatter, the only sound instead his shaky breaths. It was atleast an hour before he could find the motivation to get out of bed. Another hour later he was walking out his door in black suit, getting lost in his thoughts until he's standing outside the funeral home. It takes everything in him to walk inside and walk in that room without crying. He was the first one there, sitting in the back corner of the dimly lit walls with his head in his hands.

"Come on Pea!" You smile, taking his hand and pulling him after you.

"We already had milkshakes today." He sighed in protest though you still took him inside Pops and ordered.

"Since when do you say no to more milkshakes?" You ask, unable to hold back a laugh.

He could hear your laugh echo through the building but it's gone before he can salvage the sound. Maybe it was just in his head, but it didn't matter.

Five minutes later Toni, Fangs, Jughead, and Betty arrived, five minutes after that Veronica, Kevin, Archie, and Cheryl.

"Hey Pea." Fangs said, pulling his friend into a hug. He falls against him, tightly gripping Fangs. He couldn't help but wish it was you holding him.

You are not allowed to go out anymore." Sweet Pea says after you'd come home with cuts and bruises.

"I'm fine." You assured him as you turned your head with your chin and cleans your cuts. "It was a small fight that I won."

"But now you're hurt." He says. "I'm supposed to stop you from getting hurt."

"I can handle myself." You say, standing up and so does Sweet Pea. "I'm not a delicate princess."

"You're my princess." He smiles, wrapping his arms around you. You roll your eyes but copy his smile, pulling him into a strong hug.

"You okay?" Toni asks, seeing her friend standing still with a distant look in his eyes. She knew he was getting lost in his thoughts and memories again like he had been the past week, having to hold back her own tears. "She loved you, Sweet Pea. She still does."

He nods and presses his lips into a line, scrunching his face together as to make sure no tears slip out. "Thanks Topaz." He mumbles. She squeezes his arm before walking towards Cheryl.

"I love you." You say, still staring up at the stars in the back of the truck you both lied on.

"What?" Sweet Pea quickly looks away from the stars and watches you, examining your side profile.

"I love you." You repeat, finally turning to look at him. A smile was on your face as you saw the look of excitement and love on his face.

"I love you." He smiles, leaning closer to you and pressing his lips against yours. "I love you so much, Y/n Y/l/n."

"Aw you're such a Sweetie." You giggle as he hovered over you.

"I hate you."

"You love me,"

You sit up on your elbows to meet him in the middle, your lips fitting together perfectly before parting and rejoining. A warm tingle was spreading through you from a source in your chest, like how you felt when you first kissed but ten times more intense. You knew he felt it too, the warmth seeming to radiate off of him in waves. He moved so you were above him before sitting up so you straddled his lap. His lips trailed down to your neck, your hands combing through his hair.

"Sweet Pea," you breathe after his teeth grazed your neck causing your breath to hitch in your throat. He pulled away as quick as he'd started, a partially embarrassed.

"I'm sorry I just-"

You cut his apology off with a kiss softer than before. "It's okay."

The two of you were just that; just the two of you. You had all your firsts together, first relationship, first breakup, first kiss, first I love you, first hook up. You explored this new world of being teenagers and being a boyfriend or girlfriend together, and ever step seemed easy with him by your side. Despite your obviously differing personalities, yours greetings and smiles while his was "don't talk to me, I bite", you fit together like a two puzzle pieces from separate puzzles that didn't go with the rest but were perfect for each other.

But then one day you disappeared. At first he just thought you were off doing your own thing, then thought you were blowing him off; that he said something wrong. After a week of nobody seeing or hearing a single thing from you, the missing persons report was filed. You weren't really known as Y/n around the school anymore, more as the girl who went missing last week. The days went on and Sweet Pea tore himself up over it. Maybe you ran away because of him because you thought you were moving too fast. Maybe you never really loved him, it was just an act until you could get away. Maybe you were hurt somewhere and--

"Sweet Pea, you in there?" Fangs asked causing him to physically jump up out of his head.

"Yeah, just... Thinking." He answers, running a hand through his hair.

"She'll come back dude." He gives Sweet Pea a sympathetic pat on the back before walking to his seat.

"Sweet Pea, can you join me in the office please." Weatherbee asks after walking into the classroom. Sweet Pea rolls his eyes but does so, the principal closing the door to his office once they get there.

"Sweet Pea, you might want to take a seat. The news I'm about to tell you is... Shaking." Weatherbee says.

"I can take it." He says through his teeth.

The man in front of him frowns and sits at his desk, his hands folded in front of him. "Well, I got a call from the sheriff's office about an open case."

"She's home?" Sweet Pea asks knowing immediately which case it was, his entire body language changing, "where is she, can I see her?"

"Miss. Y/l/n was found, yes, but she... She wasn't alive. I'm sorry."

"No, no you're lying."

"Sweet Pea, I understand this will be a hard time for you," Weatherbee starts but is cut off by Sweet Pea running out of the room and to the parking lot, a mess of emotions that seemed to be drowning him, pulling him further and further into the depths of his spiraling mind with stops along the way of memories and thoughts of you. Of his girl. His girl that wasn't really his girl anymore because how could you be his girl if you were gone?

"Sweet Pea?" He heard you say.

"Y/n?" He looked up with excitement shining in his dull eyes but they went back to the previously seen empty look after seeing it was just Betty. "Oh. Hey."

"I'm going to go talk to Toni." Betty excuses herself. Sweet Pea silently wished that she'd taken Jughead with her, not wanting the burden laid upon him of pouring out his feelings to someone else because that's all everyone keeps fucking asking.

"Jones, I swear to God if you ask me how I'm doing I'm going to throw you into a wall." Sweet Pea says, not meeting his eye instead looking at his own hands that had held yours so many times in the past.

"I like to think I'm not that cliche." Jughead says quietly. "Thinking about her?"

"I can't stop thinking about her." He replies in a quiet voice, still scared of opening up to anyone; he opened up to you, not them. "Every little thing about her is just... I miss her."

"We all do, man." Jughead tries to comfort him but didn't quite know how to get through the thick cloud that was thoughts of the girl he'd loved and lost.

"I was thinking um... About when I found out." Sweet Pea continues, "I just remember thinking that I didn't even get to say bye, or tell her I loved her. I don't even... Don't even know why she was out of town."

It was silent for a while between them until Jughead let him be alone which he obviously wanted.

Everything just hurt. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, the memories hurt. He wanted to escape from his body and go to some far away land that was just him and the pictures of you he'd put together in his head. He had so many more things to say to you. So many more things he wanted to do with you. So many conversations you'd yet to have. He wanted you to help him with his pain like you'd done with him times before, but could you really help if you were the cause of the gnawing, aching feeling deep within him?

People kept telling him over and over time would be the cure to his hurt, but they couldn't be more undeniably wrong. As each day went on, he longed for you more and more, he kept seeing whispers of you in the hallway, like the memorial in front of your locker filled with cards and flowers from people you didn't really know. There were scattered pictures of you there, your heart-melting smile looking straight at him, and there was pictures of the two of you on your common dates to Pops. He saw you in the newly put up colourful posters pasted to the walls about going to the guidance counselor to "help guide you through your grieving"; He saw you in couples walking down the hallway just the way you used to; And he saw you in your seat next to him in fifth period despite it's emptiness that served as a cold reminder.

Everyone asked him how he was and every time he gave them a one worded answer varying of "good" "okay" "fine" "great". He didn't want to share the memories he had of you that only the two of you knew about, like how the earth around you seemed to stop it's rotation around the sun and instead rotated around you that night when you first said you loved him. You loved him, and of course he knew that, but it was so damn hard to keep remembering that because when he thought of you it wasn't a warm fuzzy feeling anymore, it was pain and sorrow and regret. He loved you, so fucking much it hurt; then again, that hurt was probably longing for the other half of his heart. It was rare for someone to find their person. The One with a capital "O". And that's what you were for him and him for you. With you gone it felt like half of him had just disappeared into a phantom, like he was walking around slowly disappearing into the air around him and no one seemed to realize as the days went on he sunk deeper into this place where his body didn't exist in the present, instead getting stuck in the past following after his mind.

Everyday in his trailer he passed the black velvet box on his table. Sometimes he just sat and stared at it, gently popping it open and turning the ring inside between his fingers. It was a promise ring, something that binded the two of you until you were old enough to get married and carry out the rest of your days together because you'd found the One. He was going to give it to you the day you disappeared, sitting in the truck he'd slide it on to your finger and you'd smile and kiss him saying how much he meant to you and he'd look up to meet your eyes but then this dream world would merge with the real one and you'd be gone; disintegrated into thin air leaving him alone to keep you with him as a mere collection of memories.

[bastillewolf]

The Grand Tranquility Hotel (IX)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: An eccentric hotel owner and an inquisitive writer find solace in each other when they both seemed to be at the edge of rock bottom.

Notes: This chapter was 7 pages in my Word document. You’re welcome.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Chapter IX - Star Treatment

Her leg couldn’t stop the anxious bouncing. It was late, and the sight of her sitting on her bed in her evening dress would’ve probably made a few heads turn if she hadn’t been by herself. It wasn’t often she got this nervous anymore, and certainly not over something like this.

She took a deep breath, before picking up the phone and dialling a familiar number. It rung only three times when a voice answered her.

“Hello?”

“I need you to come over.”

 Nothing that morning had given her any insinuation that she would be calling someone later that night, because they’d only just taken a seat at the breakfast table. “Where’s mister Turner?” she wondered as she grabbed a piece of warm buttered toast. Watching them exchange looks with each other, she grew suspicious. “Uhm, he had some things to take care of, miss. He’ll show up eventually,” Nick hesitantly answered, his eyes darting to Matt to look for some kind of approval.

Said man simply rolled his eyes, adding, “He’s sorting the last things out with the police. It’ll be some time before he can get off the phone.” She hummed, “Was it that difficult to pass such information to me, Nick?” “W-Well, you know how mister Turner can get,” Nick replied, “He doesn’t like it when we talk about his business with others.”

“With others?” she repeated, clearly upset. “I thought I’d done enough to be not just ‘others’. What are you not telling me?” Nick looked downtrodden, casting his eyes upon his lap. “I’m sorry, miss. I wish I could tell you. But mister Turner will probably explain everything later today, you’ll see.” She huffed, throwing her napkin on her half-finished plate before taking off.

Matt clapped his hands, “That went well.”

“Yes, thanks for the help by the way, prick,” Nick grumbled.

“You know Alex would have murdered me if I had told her anything about his plan.”

 Her eyes darted over the words in the book she’d randomly picked up off the shelf, but she couldn’t keep her concentration long enough to understand what they were saying. It was a high amount of frustration built up inside her which she wasn’t sure how to get rid of. After having spent so much time in the hotel owner’s presence, chipping down bits and pieces of his walls and finally getting to the grand finale of hearing the hotel’s biggest secret, she had no clue what there was still left to hide, or why there were reasons to hide anything at all.

She laid her head against the armrest of the loveseat she’d been sulking in, watching the flames in the fireplace flicker and crackle as a piece of char broke off of a wooden log. The heat that spread across her legs was comfortable, and she could have dozed off then and there if it hadn’t been for the small draft tickling the hairs on top of her head. Turning towards the library’s large windows, she noted that none of them had been opened and that the door she’d come in through had been shut when she’d slammed it behind her like an ignorant child. She felt a bit bad about it now, seeing as the woodwork of the door looked intricate and very old.

Her head perked up when she saw something out of the corner of her eye during her investigation of the mysterious draft. It was a thin door, tucked in a corner between the grand bookshelves, which had the same colour of the wood around it. It’s probably why she’d never noticed it before on first glance, or had perhaps initially brushed it off thinking it was some sort of broom closet.

The room she stepped into was rectangular, with the window nearly covering the entire wall of the thinner width of the lounge. She would call it a lounge, though the seating area in the centre had been covered by white sheets to prevent any dust from settling from underusage. In front of the glass panes stood another piece of furniture, one with a distinct shape that told her exactly what it was, but she threw the covers off of it anyway.

The sizable piano wing was stunning, though now she understood the intention of hiding it for it was far too beautiful to be touched by an inexperienced hand.

“Do you play?”

She smiled to herself. She could’ve expected it. “A little. My mother was far more talented, however. She tried to teach me, but I was too impatient for her as a child.”

Alex hummed, sliding his hand along the black shiny coating of the instrument as if he was caressing a marble statue. “One of my business partners gifted it to me,” he told her, “I’d always preferred the guitar, but when I felt like I’d found everything there was to discover with it, I learned to play the piano a bit.” He lowered himself onto the small leather seating, lifting the fallboard to uncover the black and ivory white keys. He patted the space next to him.

She begrudgingly sat down as well, as he began to play an interesting tune.

“I just wanted to be one of The Strokes, now look at the mess you made me make,

hitchhiking with a monogrammed suitcase, miles away from any half-useful imaginary highway,

I'm a big name in deep space, ask your mates, but golden boy's in bad shape,

I found out the hard way that here ain't no place for dolls like you and me,

Everybody's on a barge, floating down the endless stream of great TV,

1984, 2019,

Maybe I was a little too wild in the 70s,

Rocket-ship grease down the cracks of my knuckles…”

She’d almost sighed when the sound of his velvety voice had trailed off and his fingers slid from the keys. “You wrote that?” she asked. He nodded shyly, running a hand through his hair. “You know, if the hotel thing doesn’t work out, you could always just become a poet. Or a singer-songwriter. You have the voice for it.”

He huffed, “You flatter me, writer. But I think if I ever chose the music path I’d need at least five years to make an album. I’d lose my train of thought.” “I highly doubt that,” she remarked. He glanced up at her with his serene brown gaze. “You’re upset about something,” he noticed, “What happened, love?”

She looked at him with indecisiveness, feeling apprehensive about sharing information with the person who was apparently still holding something back from her as well.

“Your staff was very cautious not to tell me where you were this morning,” she decided.

He straightened his back, not quite willing to meet her gaze as he fumbled with the cuffs of his suit, which told her enough. “I had to take care of some business.”

“Okay, good talk.”

He grabbed her hand before she could get up, letting out a deep sigh of defeat. “I’m sorry, love. But you’ll have to hear about it later today.”

“I thought you were trusting me, Alex.”

“I am. You’ll like it, so there’s no need to worry.”

His face hovered closer to hers. “It’s something for you, after all.” He gently moved her hair and placed a soft kiss behind her ear, before leaving a breathy trail along her throat, not quite touching her but still making her tingle all over. When he reached her lips, he finally kissed her, but it was only brief. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”

 What a bastard, she kept thinking to herself. How dare he put her in such a situation? The audacity.

She was standing in front of her closet. It wasn’t usual for her to unpack her suitcase when staying at a hotel, but from the beginning on having not known how long she was staying, this was one of the rare occasions that her clothes didn’t have as many wrinkles as they usually would have because she’d been wise enough to put them on the hangers.

It was where she’d decided that she had absolutely nothing that could fall under the phrase ‘something nice’.

Anything she did have was either bluntly denied because it seemed too floozy, or thrown onto her bed because it was ‘too nice’. Her mother’s to go response for a clothing crisis such as this one had always been plain and simple; ‘wear something classy, yet comfortable’, but she now felt like she should have asked her for a bit more details.

Her makeup was done in what she usually would have thrown on if she had gone out, with only the right shade of lips missing because that came after the first crisis. She only had about half an hour left and she was still sat on her bed in her fluffy white robe, wondering if she should even go at all.

A knock came from her door and her stomach sunk, but she decided that it would be better to yell at him for being early than not answering at all. When she opened the door a tad so only her eyes could peek out, she wasn’t expecting to see Matt. He raised his eyebrows at her when she only blinked at him. “Can I help you?” she muttered; her voice slightly muffled behind the woodwork.

Matt raised his arms which held a beautiful bouquet of white roses. “A peace offering?”

When she allowed him to step in, he glanced over the mess of clothes she’d made before turning to her with a smirk on his face. “Is someone nervous?” he teased. “I thought you were here to make peace, not war?” she questioned in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest. He smiled awkwardly, “Sorry, ma’am. About this morning, too. Me and the boys never meant to offend you in any way. We see you as a part of the family now and were only being secretive because Alex was so adamant on surprising you with dinner.”

She raised her brows in pleasant surprise. “He’s taking me out to dinner?”

He froze. “Well- it’s only in the dining hall, to be fair- I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She patted his arm comfortingly. “You’re forgiven if you help me pick out a dress.”

 It turned out Matt’s fashion sense was a lot better than she’d expected, because he had her dressed and ready to go in no time and had even managed to find a pair of matching shoes for her classy-but-comfortable evening dress. She did her fifth once-over in the mirror after having applied her red lipstick, and it made Matt smile. “You look beautiful, miss.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Thank you, Matthew.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gunna pop off before Alex sees me in the same room as his lady looking all fancy,” he muttered, taking a glance at his watch. Before she could ask all about his particular choice of words to describe her, he had unfortunately already taken off.

 It was the next time she opened the door that made her chest almost burst with giddiness. Alex wore an all-black suit, which, like all of the others he wore, was tailored to the detail. His hair was slicked back with only the front cuff hanging over his forehead, giving him a classic bad boy appearance. He smelled like expensive cologne and a hint of cigarette smoke. He managed to look irresistibly attractive and not just because she’d always had a thing for men who smelled good.

He let his eyes wander over her body and it nearly made her shy if she hadn’t felt so good in the dress she was wearing. He looked about ready to cancel the date and just push her up against the wall then and there, and a small part of her kind of wished he had. “You look absolutely ravishing, love,” he growled. It made her lips quirk up and she had to restrain herself not to break into a full smile out of excitement. It had been a long time since she’d felt like this. “You clean up nicely yourself, mister Turner.”

He huffed, “You’re killing me, love. Call me Al, Alex or Alexander or I won’t last the whole evening.” She pursed her lips with amusement in response. “Good to know.”

 She’d held onto his arm the entire trip downstairs and he seemed very willing to keep her close to his side, slowing his stride to match her pace and glancing down at her ever so often. It made her realize how nice it was for someone to return her affections so delicately.

She’d almost burst out laughing when she saw Matt awaiting them in full tux, bowtie and all, looking like a proper waiter. “If you start laughing I’ll throw them flowers out of the window, miss,” he frowned. She smirked at him, as Alex scolded, “Be nice to the lady, Matthew.” “Well, I would be if I could just remember why I actually agreed to doing this.”

“Don’t worry, Matt. I’ll even tip you at the end of the night if you haven’t thrown my flowers out by then,” she joked. He snorted, before gesturing for the both of them to follow him into the hall.

It was the usual setup of tables, only this time their particular spot had been decorated with a few candles and small but classy bouquets of dried wildflowers. “So, it is a date, then,” she commented, noting the table was only set for two. Alex blinked at her blankly, before replying, “I’m sorry, would you have wanted to have a candlelit dinner with someone else?”

Matt intervened, “Now that you mention it, I’m actually quite hungry-“ before Alex shoved his elbow into his side, making the temp waiter groan. She laughed at their antics, telling the hotel owner, “No, Alex. I wouldn’t have wanted to share it with anyone else.” It made Alex perch up in delight as Matt simply gasped in an overexaggerated portray of betrayal.

Ever the gentleman, he pulled out a chair for her, only taking his own seat when he knew she was comfortable. “Now, may I finally take your order?” Matt asked, taking a notepad and pen from his jacket’s pocket. “And you’ve always wondered why I never let you be a waiter,” Alex muttered as his eyes scanned over the menu.

When Matt left them with their requests written down, Alex leaned back into his chair, seeming to finally relax a bit. “Did you spend all morning planning this?” she wondered. He shrugged, “The thing that took me the most time was to convince the guys to play along.” “And how did that work out?” “Let’s just say that when they started making ridiculous demands in return I reminded them of who’s really in charge here.” “So, you had to bribe them anyway?” “Yes.”

They shared a smile; one she could only ever get from this joyful banter she shared with him. It made her appreciate him doing this for her even more.

“Have you started your novel yet?” he finally decided to ask. She leaned her elbows on the table a bit, giving him a questioning look. “Do you actually want me to start a novel?” He hummed, “I’m not sure yet.” “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, Alex. If you don’t want people to know about it, my lips are sealed.”

“I know, which is why you’re the first person I haven’t completely shut down the idea of a book about the hotel with. I just need a bit more time to think about it.”

“I understand. Take as much time as you need.” She mulled it over for a moment, thinking of how the book would be plotted out if it ever were to happen. Her lips quirked back up a bit. “But, in the probability that a novel might be written, I suppose I’d have to inquire a bit more about the hotel owner himself.”

His eyebrow was raised in amusement. “What would you like to know?”

“Well, I already know you’re a literature fanatic. But I didn’t know you were as much into the art of music as you’ve shown me this afternoon.”

He nodded, “It’s always played a big part in my life. It started when I became a big fan of the Strokes when I was younger. Wanted to be a part of their band or create one of my own, which is partially why I started playing the guitar. Me, Jamie, Nick and Andy even used to play a few gigs here and there while we were in school.” “Would have loved to see that.” “I’m sure you would have, even if it was just to laugh at my stupid haircut.”

“I wouldn’t dare laugh at you mister Turner,” she smirked, “Even having heard of the fact that you’re really just a big science fiction nerd.” He narrowed his eyes. “Who told you?” “I inquired one of your dear friends about it, who was very happy to tell me all about your obsession with Blade Runner and the sort.”

“So, you spoke to Miles.” She shrugged, as he continued, “You can say anything you want about that movie, but you can’t deny that Harrison Ford was fantastic in it.” She sucked in a breath, “I’ve never seen Blade Runner.”

She snorted when his eyes widened. “What do you mean, you’ve never seen Blade Runner?”

Lifting her shoulders, she replied, “I’ve never really had the patience to watch it.”

“Outrageous. I can’t believe I’ve told you all my secrets when you haven’t even seen that masterpiece.”

“Guess I’m just that good,” she noted with a twinkle in her eye.

It wasn’t long after when Matt barged back in with their dinner and a bottle of a very expensive-looking champagne sitting in a tub of ice. “You don’t have to open that. Save it for a special occasion,” she objected, but Matt only looked to Alex, who nodded. A pop of a bottle opening followed, and it made her sigh. “You can’t expect us to not go all out tonight, Miss,” Matt explained, “You mean more to us than you think. If you’re lucky I’ll even show you a magic trick.”

“You’re not showing her a magic trick, Matthew,” Alex said.

“Bummer. It’s really good.” As he was about to leave, she mouthed ‘later’ at him, which he peaked up at a bit.

“You shouldn’t encourage him,” the hotel owner commented, having seen her little act, “He nearly drove me off the road once while trying to show me a card trick.” “It’s endearing.” “I think I prefer the phrase ‘bothersome’.”

As they dug in, she went to ask a bit more about the hotel itself, her curiosity being indulged by his acceptance to tell her almost everything now. “What’s the most visited room?” He snorted, “Pretty obvious, really. The honeymoon suite.”

“You have a honeymoon suite?” she asked incredulously. “I already knew you’re secretly a romantic at heart, Alex, but really?”

“It’s easy money,” he begrudgingly admitted. “You call something a ‘honeymoon suite’, make sure they get the best view and shove cheesy rose petals and chocolates in their face and you’re all set.” “I don’t think that’s true.” He quirked an eyebrow in question. “I think you enjoy it,” she told him, “if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have set this whole dinner up just for me.”

“Well, when you only have one guest, you have to keep them entertained somehow.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “What else would you do to keep me entertained, mister Turner?”

His gaze remained in a trance with hers, not once wavering. He mirrored her, setting his elbows on the table and propping his chin upon his intertwined fingers. “What do you suggest, writer?”

“Dance with me,” she said.

“There’s no music.”

“Then sing that song from this afternoon.”

 He’d slid an arm around her waist without a second thought, his other hand taking hers in a warm embrace. Lifting her other one to his shoulder, she had to remember to breathe while being in such close proximity to him. Though he had intimidated her from the beginning, from the moment they’d met, even, she now felt like she’d molten into a puddle in his arms, like the feeling you’d get after a deep tissue massage. It made her wonder what it was about him that could flick a switch in her so quickly.

“I just wanted to be one of those ghosts, you thought that you could forget,

And then I haunt you via the rear-view mirror on a long drive from the back seat,

But it's alright, cause you love me, and you recognize that it ain't how it should be,

Your eyes are heavy and the weather's getting ugly,

So, pull over, I know the place…”

It didn’t take long for them to fall into an absolute trance with each other, just shuffling back and forth between the empty tables as Alex’ voice lulled her into the thought that what she felt for him was something she’d never meant to feel for him before. But she was glad it had happened, because what it was that she felt, did feel completely right.

 She twisted the key in the lock, opening the door to her room with a click that broke their little silence. She turned back to look at him. He had a hand in his trousers’ pocket, the other holding the jacket he’d swung over his shoulder. “Good night, mister Turner,” she said. “Good night, love. I had a lot of fun.”

He leaned in to kiss her deeply, and she closed her eyes at the unmistakable feeling of electricity sparking between them again. It was as if every touch of his lips was something better than the last, and when he slipped his tongue along her bottom lip, she had to steady herself to not lose her balance. He breathed through his nose when she lifted her leg to wrap around him, sliding sensually upwards while he prickled her mouth with as much preservation he was somehow still able to hold.

She felt defeated when he pulled back, slightly out of breath. “I’ll see you at breakfast, writer.”

“You better.”

He smirked, gliding a hand down her lifted thigh before gently lowering it. “If there’s anything else, just call me. I’ll be here in a whim.”

She refrained from making a Batphone joke, not wanting to ruin the moment while she forlornly watched him go back to 505. It made her think about something her mother had once said to her. ‘Grab love by the shoulders and shake it before you find you left it too late.’

 Though the hotel owner certainly had made the implication, he hadn’t expected to receive the phone call a bit later that night while he was still reeling about the night’s events on his bed.

“I need you to come over.”

[spacegaywritings]

The Wonders of Sleep - Chap 1/5  “Productive Night)

Summary: A bunch of oneshots on Virgil making sure the other sides sleep after long days of work and being busy. This time, Logan has worked until the next day and still refuses to sleep until a certain intervention stops him from getting more coffee.

Tw: trigger?? nO only SOFT RIGHTS, analogical, virgil, logan, nap, softness, domestic fluff. Fluff. Self care, trust, sleep, snuggles, cuddles, naps

 ao3 ! / next chapter .

Support me? KoFi.

Story under the cut! (1326 Words)

Loud typing filled the air of the commons. Tips and traps were emitted by the consistently pestered keyboard as Logan was writing away at a first draft of logical facts that would end up woven into the latest script of yet another episode of the Sanders Sides series Thomathy had created.

 His unoccupied hand reached for the cup of coffee, his fingers wrapping around its handle. It was cream white. A colour fitting into basically any setting. This is why Logan appreciated it. No matter what or where, a good cream colour fit any occasion or location.

It definitely aligned with the rest of furniture Patton had asked Roman to put into their common space.

 When he brought the cup up to his lips, eyes still fixed on the illuminating screen, he stilled down. It was empty. While a bit of remaining smell of dark, unsweetened and bitter coffee greeted him, there was no replenishing liquid left to clear up his senses.

Not to speak of his expanding on his capacity to stay awake further.

 “How unfortunate”, he mumbled to himself as he placed the mug back onto the table and retreated his hand to finish typing up his section.

Finally.

He was not fully done but at least a part of it was ready to be send over to Roman.

 He closed his laptop, glancing over the time in the bottom left corner of the screen.

2:49 am

This was not exactly the prime time of productivity but he had yet to write a frame of safety measurements and otherwise logistic concerns for Roman to consider. It was just a list of things he had to bring up in a meeting with the others in order to make these short videos Thomas made, as well.

To be fair, it just made him remember “vines”. To Logan, these compilations of short sketches were nothing but “vines”. They had to be put into quotations as they were not actual vines such as the plants.

 He got u-.

No, he did not.

Instead of raising to his feet, Logan got somewhat stuck in the process. His butt barely left the soft couch but did not get any further. A certain amount of weight pushed him back down to his seat.

 How odd.

 Logan looked down, mug in his hand and nothing but an empty grab into air with his unoccupied fingers.

Apparently Virgil had placed himself onto his lap while he was immersed in work - not literally, of course, just mentally. It was another of these metaphorical expressions he had picked up.

 “Virgil, what are you doing here?”

 There was no answer.

Huh, strange. Virgil was usually more than fast to shoot back any retort but there was really nothing but silence, not even a flinch.

Any movement and sound were cancelled out.

 Logan squinted, leaning a bit over Virgil to look at his face. It was mostly covered in his bangs. Other than that, he was facing away from Logan, more towards the table with the laptop on it. He had not even realised the weight of a whole head and a pair of shoulders nestling on his lap.

Now there was Virgil and he could not get up to the coffee machine and make himself more coffee.

 “Virgil, please, this is highly unproductive.”

 Maybe it was one of these practical jokes Virgil explained to him? It was worth a “shot” to try and appeal to Virgil from blocking him.

 “This is highly unproductive. It is almost 3am, please let me continue on with my work. Anxiety? Are you ignoring me?” He stared into the closed yes he could see with his back arching a bit further. Virgil looked peaceful.

 They had accepted him a while ago and it had become more and more usual for him to come around and hang out with them despite him having enough after even a few minutes. It must have been due to a lack of consistent social interaction, Logan assumed, for now Virgil was more likely to stay even when a lot of them were together and actively engaging.

It was nice to have a calm person around, especially when Roman and Patton had especially intense days of being... an extra “handful”. Logan did not even know how to phrase it.

 He blinked.

 Now that he thought about it, the weight was sort of nice, maybe hindering him from getting more coffee and postponing his sleep further, yet still somewhat comforting.

It sounded odd but apparently, people sleep better with extra weight since it reduces anxiety and gives the body a feeling of comfort.

 “Virgil?”

 He did not want to wake up the other but he still called for him. It was another illogical action he found himself indulge in more and more.

Sometimes it felt as if the interactions he had with the others made him somewhat dense to sensible actions. Why would he say Virgil’s name for no reason? The idea of risking his sleep was rather bad, to be frank. Virgil needed sleep, it was also 3 am - since when was Virgil on his lap?

 When did Logan get his last coffee? He only remembered sitting down to start on his work in the evening and now it was very early in the morning.

 Well, he did still have a lot of work left to finish . . . Thomathy relied on him.

 “Virgil, please, I have work to do. I really need to keep going.”

 He looked down at the unmoving body and sighed.

 Nothing, not even a single reaction.

If Virgil was secretly awake, he was being rather persistent albeit rather calm about it. Usually, even the slightest bit of stress had him react intensely - which made sense considering he was the metaphysical embodiment of anxiety.

 “I have to finish. Roman and Patton will be lost without me and it will cause you more work to deal with, Virgil.”

 He glanced over the laptop and opened again.

If Virgil did not move, then he would work until he would pass ou-

 Wait.

 Exhausting himself until late into the night and even further meant that Thomathy had to be awake still, had to be awake because of him.

 Logan shoved his glasses up and rubbed his closed eyes. They were so warm.

He cleared his throat and opened up his mouth to speak to nobody in particular.

 “I.. I consider this a good time to catch up on my lost weeks of sleep as there is nothing better to do. Seeing as Virgil has fallen asleep on me”, he declared. Maybe he was addressing Virgil. He certainly was shutting down his idea laptop and putting it back into its respective bag.

 “Well, then. I will succumb to temporary nonsense for now - but only for as long as my mind needs to rest."

 His fingers pushed away the packed up laptop which nudged the empty coffee mug. Another hand wrapped around Virgil in the now completely dark room.

With the light of the laptop gone, only the faint lights in the kitchen (a sort of night light Patton had insisted on) illuminated the living-room a bit.

 Logan adjusted a bit and managed to eventually bring his legs around Virgil’s body and pull the other close to his chest before he buried them in a big blanket.

Props to Patton for keeping blankets in about any space this house knew. A freezing Morality was an inventive side, Logan noted down in appreciation.

 As he cuddled into the couch cushion, he wrapped his arms around Virgil, glasses abandoned on the coffee table.

  “Thanks for the reminder, Virgil. I really forgot how late it had gotten.”

 The logical side allowed himself to fall asleep to the regular rhythm of Virgil’s calm breathing. He could not see the curled up side smile but he knew for a fact that the other was less asleep than he pretended to be.

 One side down.

[wykart]

Thanks so much for the tag @daniclaytonsfuturewife and @sapphos-disciple!!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!  

I have done literally no original works (yaaay) so here are the favourite things I have worked on this year! Most of my fan works were done at the beginning of the year since school really bogged me down, but I’m getting back into it! More things on the way…

1) The Prodigal Daughter

I started writing this in December 2019 and finished up early this year. It was my first long fic (at just over 100k) and it might seem a bit dated reading back on it now but I’m still really proud of it and so grateful for all the love it received! Considering I wrote it before series 12 was completed… I think I was a bit prophetic.

Also here’s a pdf with illustrations :p

and the front + back covers I posted

2) The Thirteenth Doctor Fanzine Vol. II piece

I went all in with this one as my first fanzine contribution and it’s the largest piece I’ve created to date. Very proud of how it turned out and so grateful to be featured alongside so many incredible artists and writers! 

3) Cranking out a series of fics during S12

(This one is cheating). After every episode, the discord server was alive with screaming and speculation. I was at home a lot over the summer holidays (before the pandemic, I should have gotten out while I still could) and I wrote some fics set during the course of S12. These were great for improving my writing with (mostly) short pieces where I could really milk the angst of S12.

You can find the series here 

4) The Timeless Child illustration

Particularly proud of this one because it is an extremely rare example of me starting something, leaving it for like 8 months, and then actually finishing it. I think I did good on the colours :)

5) Horizon Zero Dawn illustration

As I do every year, I replayed Horizon in 2020. It’s such an incredible game world and I’ve spent more time in it than any other. It’s my favourite escape! Also to my Doctor Who fans, check this game out, it’s one of my absolute favourite sci fi stories! There’s a movie with cutscenes + gameplay here. 

6) Doctor Who Companions illustration 

This one gets a place because it’s my most popular post of the year and it was interesting experimenting with a different art style and actually drawing poses. I love all these girls so much :))

7) The Modern Prometheus

This one is very, very incomplete, but it’s sitting in my drafts at over 100k (messy, messy) words and there are a few chapters up already. It’s a retelling of the Timeless Child’s story, delving into the world of a very ancient Gallifrey. I continue to be the only person over here in my corner of loving (to hate) Tecteun. I plan on seriously reworking the story but I am still really proud of my work on it so far!

also I drew a cover, which I’m proud of because I barely draw landscapes

8) RYCBAR

This one is also incomplete, BUT I am more than halfway through so this one counts as 2020 :p It’s a few fic ideas all smashed together that I finally, finally got around to starting recently and it’s alllll about Clara. 

And lastly! I am super grateful for the Doctor Who fan community. I disappeared in the middle of the year for a while, and 2020 was a very, very strange year, but I have thoroughly enjoyed interacting with you all and your incredible works of art! 

I’m tagging @jolivira @sunshinedaysforever @braddersbangerz and @not-mandip

[bittersweetmelxdy]

Could i get some kiro x reader angst where shes like i love you kiro your the little brother I always wanted! And hes just like this is not how i wanted to hear those words

Thank you for being so patient with me about getting into this request. As most of you will not know (because I one didn’t plan on it, and two like an idiot I didn’t tell anyone, lol) after I stopped writing for the Christmas Countdown, I took a break for the rest of the month, as I’ll admit I did get writer’s burnout. Anyway enough rambling, here’s the request, and I’m sorry that my first request back is angst. xx

Title: if you don’t feel the same, don’t say anything,  Pairing: Kiro x MC Words: 1,154Notes: Title taken from Fix Me by Jasmine Thompson

“Good morning Miss Chips!” Kiro’s chipper voice brightened your doorstep at the wonderful hour of 7 o’clock.  

You yawned and leaned one hand against the door frame rubbing the sleep from your eyes slightly, “Good morning Kiro, I thought you were going to bust this week.” you said blearily.

Kiro breezed past you and placed a paper bag atop your kitchen counter, “You know that’s food truck we wanted to try?”

“The one with the mile-long queue?” You questioned leaning your forearms on the counter.  

“Yeah.” Kiro paused, unfurling the paper bag and rummaging through it before continuing, “Well if you go early there’s barely anyone there so I got us both breakfast.”

Despite how tired you were after pulling an all-nighter to finish the report draft for Monday’s shareholders meeting, the sight of Kiro beaming in your kitchen brandishing two takeout containers, brought a fond smile to your face as well. Shaking your head, you brought utensils out of your drawer and took one of the containers from the superstar, before leading your way to the table where you took a seat, Kiro following not a second after. You both said your thanks for the food and then proceeded to tuck in. After the first bite you couldn’t help but giggle a little, praising your company.

“Wow, good call Kiro this is amazing!” you praised.

Kiro ducked his head in embarrassment due to your praise, and simply dug in hiding the blush that was blooming on the apples of his cheeks. Once you both were done, you stood up and took the utensil and container from Kiro, moving to tidy up your kitchen from mess. Kiro stood up and leaned his back against the counter to the side of you as you washed up in the sink.

“So, Miss Chips any plans for today?” He questioned, crossing his arms, you paused thinking about the day you had planned, being full of household chores, and then decided you could put them on hold for the fugitive superstar.

“Nothing I can’t put off.” you admitting, being honest with him, drying your hands off with a hand towel.

“Great, get dressed and we’ll get going, it’s a little far so it’s best we get going early.” Kiro clapped his hands once, and then herded you back into your bedroom closing the door on your laughing expression.

Humouring him you began to get dressed, throwing on a black skater skirt and a top, the colour matching the hue to Kiro’s, before finishing the outfit with a white jean jacket, and some white cotton thigh-high socks. Reopening the door, you cleared your throat, getting Kiro’s attention from where he was stood in front of a mirror in your living room, fixing the black wig on his head to hide his signature sunshine hair colour, and Kiro turned beaming at you, as you presented your outfit before him. You giggled at his over-dramatic response, placing his hand atop his chest as if he had been hit in the heart.  

Stepping outside, you allowed Kiro to lead you to the train station and you patiently waited whilst Kiro bought tickets for the train and only when you eventually were seated in the train car did you venture to question where you were going.

“Okay superhero, where are you whisking me off to now?” you smiled, knocking your shoulder against his lightly, gathering his attention.

“Shhh,” Kiro pressed his finger to his lips, hushing you effectively, “it’s a surprise.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his secretive nature, and simply turned your head towards the window, watching the scenery hurtle past the train carriage, watching them blend into each other. As the sun rose the highest point in the sky, you were startled as Kiro suddenly hopped up, pulling your hand until you were basically being dragged out of the train by a hyperactive Kiro. You allowed Kiro to herd you through bustling streets until you reached the centre of town, where you stopped and gasped.

“You brought me to the Seafood festival!” you used your hand to cover your wide grin, eyes sparkling in joy and you took in a deep breath taking in the plethora of smells dancing along the seaside air.

“Ta-da! What do think Miss Chips?” Kiro turned back to look at you spreading his arms out in a flourish.

You simply nodded excitedly, before grabbing Kiro’s wrist and having a complete role-reversal as now you were dragging Kiro towards the various food stalls, “Come on Kiro!” you called over your shoulder.

You and Kiro spent the rest of the afternoon, running from stall to stall, sampling each of the foods you found interesting and even buying a higher quantity of foods you really liked. By the time the sun began to set and the day turned colder, you had eaten enough seafood for the month, but you were fully satisfied and were glad Kiro had taken you out today. You were sitting in the train car,  

“Thanks for taking me out today.” you leant your form against Kiro’s as you sat in the empty train car as you made your way home.  

“No problem, Miss Chips I-”  

“I’ve always been an only child, so I guess this is what it feels like to have a little brother…” you mused.

“Little b-brother?” Kiro spluttered.

“Yeah, like I know we’re the same age, but you’re like a brother to me.” you turned, beaming up at Kiro.

Kiro watched your bright expression in absolute horror and a shaky smile, when he had appeared in front of your doorstep, he surmised that the worst that could happen was that you would say you were busy and his plans would be ruined. It turns out that it could be so much worse. He never for a minute believed that you would take all his attentions and fun, spontaneous outings as those of brotherly affection. As you turned away from him, resting your head fully on his shoulder and closing your eyes lightly, Kiro’s face fell. His eyes became glassy as he stared out into the darkness of the night outside the train car window. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes and he quickly blinked them back, tilting his head back to stave off the tears, taking deep breathes to stop himself from shaking or breaking down, and thus alerting you of his emotional turmoil.  

Once he was sure he wasn’t going to break down he looked down at his hands, before glancing back at your peaceful face. Watching your serene expression his eyes became shrouded in tears and with a sad smile, he blinked once, letting a couple of tears leak onto his cheeks, before resting his head gently against yours.

“It’s okay Miss Chips, I’m just glad I found you again, even after all these years…” he whispered, as his heart continued to throb painfully in his chest.

[prinxietyisfxckingcanon]

Prinxiety high school AU part 8/?

Word count:  927 

Pairings: You win a prize if you get it right. It’s.... PRINXIETY!!!  Plus all of the main sides platonically and Logicality can be seen romantically or platonically, whatever you prefer

Trigger warning: None I think, but let me know if you find anything that might trigger anyone

Summary of what happened so far: Patton invited Virgil over for dinner, together with his friends Roman and Logan. Roman and Virgil don’t seem to get along too well.

Virgil

They had Dinner together. Virgil really liked Patton’s food and even though he wasn’t hungry anymore, Patton kept on refilling his plate and Virgil kept on eating because he was too scared to tell him to stop. When they were finished, Logan stood up to clean the kitchen.

“Can I help you?” Virgil asked quietly but didn’t get an answer.

“Believe me, you can’t. He wants to have everything in order and if you do something wrong he might drown you in the sink.” Roman replied casually while refilling his glass with water. Wow, did Prince-better-than-everyone-else actually talk to him? Without insulting him? Now that was new. Virgil almost rolled his eyes, just because he became used to it.  

“So it’s movie time!” Patton said as if this was some kind of a ritual, stood up and jumped on the couch. Roman followed him, so maybe it was one. But Virgil kept sitting in his chair. Maybe now was a good time to leave. Patton had invited him to eat with them and not for a movie night, so he already had done everything he promised to do with them. He could just tell them that he would have to get up early the next morning and then just walk home, listen to some music, breathe some fresh air and try to calm down again. He wouldn’t even have to fake a migraine, as he had originally planned.

“You coming Virgil?” Patton asked then mumbled, “where did I put the remote again?” “Sure.” What? No. Why did you say yes? Go home!

He stood up and sat down next to Roman with as much distance between them as possible.

“So what are we watching?” Patton, who had found the remote by now, asked. He turned towards Virgil “What do you want to watch Virgil?”

Virgil could feel his heartbeat increasing. Why did he ask him? He didn’t even want to be here. Plus if he chose some movie now, he was sure a certain someone would complain about it… “I don’t care… We can watch whatever you want… I mean… You choose.”

“RENT!” Roman shouted enthusiastically.

 Roman

You can’t watch Rent too many times. It’s just not possible. Roman sang along with most of the song. He even had warmed up his voice a little before coming here, just so that he’d sound great in case they watched a musical. But he’d set himself on fire before revealing that. Patton sang along too. Sometimes they sang the duets together and it made Roman smile widely.

Virgil sat next to him and Roman was pretty sure that the other boy didn’t move once within the two hours the movie was playing. Was he really scared? He had put a pillow between them. Maybe he was. Maybe Roman should have been nicer to him. He didn’t want to scare him. Well maybe he still had a chance to make it up to him. But did he really want to? He tried to look at the other boy without him noticing. He seemed tense and he frowned a little. They were watching a movie, why wasn’t he relaxed like everyone else? Roman didn’t quite understand, but he felt the urge to talk to him. To show him that he wasn’t really a mean person.

“You like the movie?” Virgil didn’t answer, he just nodded a bit.

“The singing performance is just impressive, isn’t it?”

“Are you talking about the movie or about your own?”

Patton laughed loudly about Virgil’s comment but Roman just sat there pouting. Okay fine, he had tried to be nice to Virgil but it didn’t work so back to normal. Back to being sarcastic and cynical and yes, maybe a little mean. If Virgil wanted to insult him then he had every right to insult him back. He wasn’t the mean one here. Emo boy was just a cynical idiot and Roman had been right since the beginning. They should not have asked him to sit with them.

He looked at the boy, ready to snarl at him, but when he looked at his face, it wasn’t filled anger, he didn’t look mean, no. He smiled a little, a timid smile. The smile of someone who’s happy that there was laughter about the joke he made. A joke. That was all. No mean intentions. Virgil was just teasing him. He was nothing more than a boy who tried to find friends. There was no evil masterplan of being mean to Roman or of stealing his friends. He was just a boy who wanted to be liked. And Roman was just an idiot overreacting. He started smiling widely. And he meant it.

“My performance!” he answered playfully “it’s obviously way more impressive than theirs.” He joked while gesturing at the TV.

“Next week on Broadway. Rent – the one man show!” Patton joined in. “The role of Mark will be played by …. Drum roll please….” Roman started tapping on the table quickly and after a moment of hesitation, Virgil joined him. “ROMAN!” Logan stood up from his seat and started applauding.

“And the role of Roger will be played by…. ROMAN!” Roman got up now and took a bow dramatically.

“And the role of Mimi and literally everyone else in the play, since it’s a one man show, will be played by…”

The four of them shouted (Virgil rather mumbled) in unison “ROMAN!” And clapped loudly. Roman smiled brightly. And more importantly, Virgil smiled as well. Yes, this was way better than arguing all the time.  

Thank you so much for reading :)  In my drafts this chapter originally ended with the two of them b*tching at each other again, but since y’all seemed so happy about them bonding in the comments, I thought I’d change that a bit. 

Pls reblog this if you liked it, so that more people can see it, that might help me a lot. 

Also thank you for all the nice comments and the nice words in my asks. 

Feel free to come say hi to me at any time. :)

Tell me if you want to be added to the tag list. 

@dem-editing-tips @popsiclescutmymouth @agent-ember  @anyelram841 @im-anonymoussss @littleladynightshade @midnight-tragedyy @virgils-angels @grae-more-like-gay @i-need-you-buddy @soul-of-a-vixen @kitkat-doodles @small-reptile-cake @emonightmare05 @jademidnight

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[softlyjiminie]

ambidextrous | k.n.j

⇢  pairing(s): soulmate!kim Namjoon x reader.

⇢  word count: 2.4K

⇢  genre: fluff, friends to lovers!au, college!au, soulmate!au.

⇢  summary: soulmates were a common thing in this world, yours could hear the thoughts in your head. the only way to know when you’ve met him, is to hear that one keyword.

⇢  warning(s): please read! nothing major, probably swearing.

⇢ author’s note(s): hello babies! long time no see, here’s a little friday fic for you! i’ve had this in my drafts for almost a year so i hope you like it mwah.

Soulmates were a common thing in this world, some liked the idea of having someone that they were destined to be with and some disliked being bound to someone eternally. You didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

You remember when you met your soulmate or rather heard him for the first time. His thoughts growing louder and louder in your head to the point where it caused you to stop playing with the dolls you had out. You had been nine.

You remember screaming and crying to your mother that night, after hearing his sort of inappropriate thoughts and you remember your poor mother having to explain to you from an early age what the birds and the bees were.

It was obvious then that your soulmate was a year or two older than you, you remember being too scared to ask him to cut down on his fun time so writing a letter to recite in your head seemed to work.

‘I-uh... I’m so sorry,’ said his voice after you finished reading, and you blushed at the unfamiliar feeling of a boy’s voice in your head. ‘I’m Namjoon.’

You smiled, finally getting a name. ‘It’s okay, and I’m YN.’

The pair of you became good friends after that, as much as you could without meeting each other in real life. The thing about soulmates was that you’d never know when you’d meet them until they’d said a keyword out loud. It was said that a wave of pure emotion; happiness and love was to crash over you as soon as you head it. You couldn’t wait for the day that you met Namjoon.

He was your best friend, practically; you recalled a time when you were twelve and he’d calmed you down from a panic attack after you’d lost your parents on a family holiday. There was also that time that he stayed up with you until the early hours of the morning; whispering sweet words to you after your ex-boyfriend publicly embarrassed you when you were seventeen.

Namjoon was always there for you; and you for him. There had been many nights when you’d cheered him on at his lowest, Joon was a smart boy and had so much pressure on him. It was easy for him to doubt himself. Though, as intelligent as your future partner may have been; he was also very clumsy and over the years you had spent many a nights scolding him through your mindlink when he’d ended up in A&E.

Sometimes; Namjoon was very analytical. Often sending you into spiels of existential crisis’ with his thoughts. One time, when you were eighteen, you’d spilt coffee all over a customer when Namjoon started thinking about the meaning of life. You had to spend half an hour explaining to your boss what had happened whilst receiving frantic apologies from the supposed love of your life.

So now; aged twenty and at three AM you were lying wide awake as your soulmate rambled on about society and a few other things that you couldn’t quite register. You loved how Joon could always see a deeper meaning in the simplest of things and how he could find beauty in everything, but it was 3 AM for Christ’s sake, and you had a lecture at 9 the same day.

‘Namjoon... you know I love you...’ you started, speaking your thoughts with a tired expression and all his late night ramblings ceased, causing you to smile as you rolled onto your side.

You imagined him smirking on the other side of your mindlink and you wondered what he looked like. ‘Why do I feel like I’m about to be roasted?’

‘Maybe it’s because it’s almost 4 AM and you won’t stop with the philosophical bullshit,’ you teased back, giggling into your pillow. There was a pause before you could hear Namjoon’s melodious chuckle in your head. ‘Your laugh is so pretty.’ you mumbled and he stopped laughing.

The silence caused you to bite your lip as you hugged your pillow to your chest. ‘You’re so pretty.’ he countered, softly.

‘You don’t even know what I look like...’

‘I don’t need to, you have a beautiful personality and I’m in love with you.’

You sighed in content, deciding so utter back a small thank you. You didn’t go back to sleep after that, opting to stay up and not go to your lecture tomorrow. It was just one lecture, you’d be fine. You liked times like this, where you could talk endlessly to your soulmate and it made you almost sad that you weren’t meeting any time soon.

It was five AM when you randomly decided to paint your nails, chatting happily to Namjoon about his plans for the day. You had just finished painting your left hand, the red nail polish contrasting against your beautiful skin tone. Now, you struggled to paint your right hand causing you to pout in frustration.

‘YN, what are you doing?’ Namjoon asked and you almost forgot that you were talking to him. Setting the nail varnish down, you glared at your messily painted nails before blowing on them lightly to dry the colour.

You sighed slightly and leaned back into your plush pillows. ‘I’m tryna paint my nails, the right hand looks so messy, ugh,’ You rolled your eyes when Joon laughed at you. ‘I wish I could paint my nails with both hands, and write too, what’s the word? I wish I was...’

‘Ambidextrous?’ your soulmate finished for you with a smug tone in his voice. ‘If you listened to my philosophical bullshit then maybe you’d know that.’

‘Shut up!’ You grumbled, a coy smile tickling the seams of your lips. You thought about how Namjoon was probably smiling too, a breathless chuckle falling from his lips as sat at a desk or lay on his bed. You sat up, leaning against the headboard of your own bed and listened again for your soulmate’s voice. ‘Say it again for me?’

You asked sweetly, trying to suppress a giggle as Namjoon sighed. There was a slight pause in the conversation from where Namjoon was preparing an accent before he spoke. ‘Ambidextrous...’ he whispered in a low and husky voice before you burst out laughing, feeling the happiest you’d been in a while.

Almost a week later; you found yourself at an all time low. Final exams for the semester had begun to roll in and your college roommate had decided to move in with her partner; leaving you alone to make ends meet. You had acquired the position of barista at the campus cafe due to your short employment in the coffee shop back home. To top it off, you hadn’t heard from your soulmate since that night, leaving you alone with no one to talk or vent to.

Instead you spent most of your days studying behind the counter whilst one of your coworkers took orders. A ticket came in for a tall vanilla latte and peach iced tea and you quickly set to work mixing the syrups and bases. A frown twisted on your lips as you made the drinks, your mind drifting to Namjoon, he had told you that his favourite drink was the Vanilla latte, and it only made you that slightest bit sadder.

Once the drinks were made, you set them on the counter and let your coworker call out the orders, sitting back down, you begun to stare blankly at the study notes you held so tightly...your thoughts now suddenly caught up on Namjoon. That’s when you heard it. A deep, smooth and luscious voice chatting away as they came to collect their drinks; you sat up, easing your hearing into the conversation as their voice sounded vaguely familiar.

“I’m telling you, Jimin , she’s perfect for me... I can’t get her out of my head.” the original voice gushed, causing you to perk up ever so slightly.

His friend sighed, seemingly unamused. “That’s kinda how soulmates work hyung...”

“You know what I mean.” the deeper voice snapped back and the conversation drew to a close as the pair presumably went to find a table. You sunk back into your seat, notebook outstretched on your lap as you tried to focus back on studying. ‘Must be nice’ you sighed to yourself, a little part of you hoping that Namjoon would hear. You were met with silence.

“YN!” you jumped at the sudden shout of your name, dropping your work to the sticky floor behind the counter and you internally groaned as you pulled it up from the floor and offered a sheepish smile to the team manager for today’s shift. “What are you doing?”

Studying. What does it look like? “Nothing,” you beamed, whipping down your apron. Your manager eyed you suspiciously, before shoving a tray of drinks in your hand.

“Table five. The jocks. Now.” She grunted. Bitch.

The table was just as rowdy as expected, with the University’s prized football squad getting their daily caffeine fix before practice. You’d served them quite a few times before, having become their favourite waitress on a Sunday morning, you weren’t sure if it was because the youngest, Jeongguk from your psychology class, had a crush on you or if it was because the boys genuinely liked you. Either way, you got good tips.

“Morning boys, big game coming up?” You chirped, setting out the iced coffees and frappes in front of each designated boy. They all barked out a sweet or cocky reply as you worked.

An orange haired boy grinned up at you. “Why of course Miss YN, have you noticed that I’ve been working out extra hard? I wanna impress you during our match on Friday.”

“Hyung, She has a soulmate!”

“So what? A man can flirt can’t he?”

You chuckled at their antics and rolled your eyes, sliding over the boy’s drink with a mischievous look. What? It was fun to play along. “Ever the charmer, aren’t you Hoseok? Too bad I’m not interested.”

The jocks let out a series of ‘ooo’s as you sashayed away from the table, mentioning how you’d be right back with their breakfasts. You trailed back to the kitchen, grabbing their orders of piping hot hash browns and full English breakfasts before walking through the cafe to reach the boys again. You couldn’t help but zone into the conversations of surrounding customers, one in particular catching your attention.

“You type really fucking slowly with your left hand hyung-” the voice from earlier, Jimin, commented with a slurp of his drink. You heard his friend audibly sigh with annoyance as you walked by and couldn’t help but to smile to yourself. “It’s stressing me out man.”

“Well I’m sorry Jimin, not all of us can be fucking ambidextrous!”

You froze. The small hairs on your skin rising high as a wave of goosebumps crashed over you. The tray in your hands clattered to the floor, as heads whipped in your direction but their judging gazes didn’t matter to you. Nothing mattered. Nothing except him. A sweet taste melted on your tongue and all you could smell was him; pine cones and Earth, candle wax and old paper books. It was all him. All Namjoon.

Slowly, you turned around, arms shaking and body trembling. A boy around a head or so taller than you, stood across from you in the aisle of the cafe, blonde hair parted and swept over his forehead. His skin was a delicious tone that screamed warmth and kisses under the sun and you felt an innate desire to run your finger tips over its supple plains. His eyes were like molten pools of chocolate, his lips so plump and kissable. He was Namjoon, he was your soulmate.

You felt your heart rate increase as the pair of you cautiously approached one another, being mindful to step over shard of broken ceramic plates and pools of baked beans. You met each other halfway, with hesitant smiles and flushed cheeks but Namjoon was the first to break the ice. “Y-YN?” He stammered out, his eyes searching your face and drinking in your features like it was his last meal. You nodded shyly, eyes bulging when the taller boy pulled you into his chest, his arms encasing you. You felt warm and safe and at home. “Wow...I-...I can’t believe you’re really...y-you!”

He pulled away, and you grinned up at him. “Hi,”

“Hi,” he smiled back, still holding you in his arms. “I can’t believe I’m actually holding you, and that we’re in the same university? How have we never met before? How is this even possible? I’m just so-“

You rolled your eyes at him playfully, pressing a finger to his lips to silence his ramblings. “Are we starting with that philosophical bullshit again, Joonie?” You whispered, savouring the sound of his low chuckle that bounced around in his chest.

“Yes, we’re soulmates now. You’re stuck with me,” came his quick-fired response, his hand coming up to encase your own. “And now, I finally have you.”

Never in your life had you felt so much love and it was all for you. The way Namjoon had glanced down at you in that second had filled you with so much happiness, before he was just a voice in your head and now he was a physical form to hold you and care for you. He was yours. “You’ll always have me...” Trailing your finger tips across his broad shoulders, you let them trail up to he hairs on the nape of his neck as the blonde leaned in, his plump lips gently brushing your own before he kissed you, softly, his hands curling around your waist to draw you closer. “Namjoon... I-I, I love you,”

And he smiled, kissing you again, right there in the cafe in the middle of your Sunday morning shift. With your boss and the jocks and all the other students watching, but it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

“Wait.wait, wait...what the fuck?” Jimin called out from the table, an incredulous look plastered on his face, his brows furrowed. The pink haired male looked around, just as confused as his fellow peers, before making eye contact with Namjoon. “Please don’t tell me you just met your soulmate by saying ambidextrous-”

You smiled, still in Namjoon’s arms, who only offered his friend a sheepish grin, sending Jimin into a series of eye rolls and complaints of disbelief. Never him mind though, at least you had your soulmate now.

[cythians]

Koi is sick and Kakeru (un)lucky

This is a draft! It’s not finished yet but I really wanted to upload this for now... I wrote this, this morning on my way to work since I am a little sick-- but as you would have it, as I was bullying Kakeru my own bad luck caught up with me and I spilt my whole smoothie on the counter, the floor and my pants.... talk about karma haha.

Koi x Kakeru

I also feel like it’s harder to write younger Koi rather than older Koi? Anyways, this is more Kakeru centred. Enjoy! ---I will probably edit this later!

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"I told you! If you overwork yourself like this..." Kakeru paused in his scolding "You'll get sick" he crossed his arms as the pink-haired one took the scolding like a puppy. Head downcast as his actual puppy-like eyes looked up at Kakeru, but he pouted as a frown formed on his forehead. He looked down at the now grinning pink-haired man he had put to bed.

He had overworked himself, and come down with a fever. Kakeru sighed before bending down to place a hand on the other's forehead, it was definitely warmer than it should be. But if he has the bags under Koi's eyes and the tinted cheeks as anything to go by, it was very clear he was sick.

Even though, Koi was grinning as he looked up at his blond friend

"I don't mind getting sick if you're the one taking care of me"

Koi answered him cheekily but started a coughing fit afterwards, Kakeru rubbed his back and moved him to sit up. Koi smiled half-heartedly and apologetically once he was done. "That's your delusions talking" Kakeru commented a little annoyed and flicked the other's nose. Smiling at the reddened face from his sickness.

Kakeru searched his pink eyes before making himself stand up.  "I'll get you some porridge and the thermometer" he finally conceded. It was Kakeru's day off and he didn't really expect to be taking care of Koi today. Aoi and Arata had left in the early morning and he couldn't ask the seniors, he felt that it was his duty as his pairing partner. So, off he went to the kitchen.

Although, knowing Kakeru's luck, he'd burn the porridge.... or even worse, stumble and throw it all over Koi. That would be a sight to behold.

But Koi was lucky enough for that second one to be less probable. For some reason Koi was always left out of trouble when bad luck hit Kakeru, the pools of rain a car ran through always seemed to drench Kakeru but when Koi was next to him it didn't seem to happen, or it did just not hit Koi.

Which didn't make sense! Since he was the taller of the two.

Kakeru went through the kitchen cabinets, looking for a box that said porridge. It felt like one of those days, a day in which Kakeru's bad luck would catch up to him. That low and deep gut feeling had him on edge. He knocked over a few boxes already, catching a few but one of them spilling its contents on the floor. He looked down at the flakes. Well, at least he had found the porridge. He grumbled loudly, frustrated by his own movements as he now carefully placed the boxes back into the cabinet, leaving the porridge box out. As soon as that was done he closed the cabinet door and let out a sigh of relief. Happy that the cabinet didn't fall or something. That would be more disastrous.

Kakeru then moved on to putting milk in a pan and heating it up, slowly mixing the porridge flakes, never taking his eye of the mixture because he knew something would happen if he did. When it was done he got a bowl and poured it full for Koi. Proud of his ability to make his friend a meal. Realising Kakeru had made a little too much he got a second bowl to fill.

Hey, if there is enough food, he'll eat too.

But as you would guess, for some reason his leg gave in and he slipped with pan and all, the second portion of porridge splattering everywhere. The floor, the cabinet and on Kakeru. He groaned as he sat on his butt, also covered in porridge and the kitchen a mess. But at least Koi's bowl was okay.

He stood up and grabbed a rag to get the most of the porridge of off himself, then turned to the mess that was the kitchen and decided he'd clean that up after he got Koi his porridge and thermometer. He grabbed the thermometer and put it in his back pocket, taking the bowl with both of his hands and holding it as tightly as he could, went over to Koi's room again.

Entering the room, he closed the door behind him, being careful about the bowl in his one hand. Koi sat up as soon as he heard the door. "What was going on out there?" He spoke groggily, his voice failing him as he started coughing again. Kakeru saw that Koi had put his phone down, he was watching anime again.

"You should be resting" he scolded him once again as he nudged towards Koi's phone. Koi glanced at it as well.

"I am resting"

"You're not"

"I am"

Kakeru grumbled at the stubborn Koi and instead decided to feed him his porridge to shut him up. Kakeru spoonfed him for a few bites before Koi decided to speak up, the thermometer was long forgotten.

"Why are you feeding me though?"

Koi asked as Kakeru looked at the bowl to scoop another bite for Koi. Koi looked at him with curious eyes. "Because you're acting like a baby" Koi's expression fell at that and he pouted, still opening his mouth though, Kakeru chuckled. "Says the one who is covered in porridge stains" Koi retorted, now it was Kakeru's turn to pout. "I can't do anything about my bad luck.." he excused himself as he brought another bite to Koi's mouth before turning it around and eating it himself. "Oi" Koi called out. "You'll get sick" he warned the other who looked him in the eyes. "Knowing my luck, I'll get sick anyways" Kakeru looked down at the bowl again before he glanced up to Koi through his lashes, tilting his head slightly, "Take care of me then, okay?" he asked as he gave Koi his sweetest smile. Koi smiled widely at that, the tinge on his cheeks making him look even cuter than he usually does. "Of course, Kakerun!" He cheered.

How he still had this energy when he was sick, was something only Koi could do, granted, he was more mellowed, but still. Kakeru continued to feed him until the bowl was finished and he set it aside. Koi was content as he sat happily against the head of his bed, Kakeru watching him as he now drank a gulp of water. Koi noticed his stare and finished drinking. "You got anything else to do today?" The pinkette then asked as he saw him fiddling with his fingers. "No....just taking care of you" he replied as he seemed to be thinking about something. Kakeru flashed him a quick smile. Koi grinned as he moved one of his hands to Kakeru's leg, getting his attention. "Kakeru is the best remedy for my sickness" were the words coming from his mouth. "So I'm sure I'll be all good by tomorrow" Koi smiled mischievously. Kakeru realised what he was saying and flushed. He knew exactly what Kakeru was thinking. "Koi!" "Where did you learn to say things like that?" Kakeru said exasperated. Koi only chuckled as his grin spread.

"Kakerun just makes me want to say things like that"

Koi mused as he leaned over to the blonde, tucking his hair behind his ear. Kakeru just blinked.

Koi's eyes seemed to fleetingly look down at Kakeru's lips, before moving back to his golden eyes which shimmered in the dimmed lighting. "If I wasn't sick I would kiss you" Koi grimaced as he let his hand linger on Kakeru's cheek before pulling it back to his lap. The latter then felt hot in his face, he was sure the blush was very visible now and his eyes grew soft. "You know what I said before right?" Kakeru tried to remind Koi but he only gave him a confused look. "You. can. kiss. me" Kakeru spelt out. When it clicked in Koi his mind is also when he leaned in further, he softly let their lips touch before they interlocked. Koi's lips were still warm from the porridge as Kakeru tried to let the feeling linger. It was a short kiss but with quite something heavy behind it. I mean, years of sexual frustration.

They broke their kiss, both backing away ever so slightly.

"Wow," Koi said dramatically, still looking into the eyes of Kakeru, watching for any reaction forming in them. He couldn't see anything else but sparkles though.

"Exactly" Kakeru copied him as he put his hand atop of Koi's "Wow" Kakeru matched his dramatic display and grinned afterwards.

Kakeru then moved to sit next to Koi on the bed, it denting as he sat. The air became thinner between the both of them and Kakeru softly traced his finger on the top of Koi's hand.

"Ko-i...." he trailed as he frowned a little before he looked up at Koi again, gaze low but his eyes looking up, that beautiful golden colour. Koi felt even sicker now, but a better kind of sick, he felt lovesick. He hummed as he turned his hand around to hold Kakeru's.

"I love you"