#I should come up with a Thomas design

[maddragonfruit]

I designed my Sanders Side swap AU characters in Gacha life 2!

Roman: his clothes and general demeanour are supposed to look a lot more dishevelled and loose, but you can’t do that in Gacha life without making them look completely homeless so I think I did a good job. Also pretend the crown is just one piece of jewellery with both red and green gems.

Virgil: his hoodie is actually just plain white with light purple sleeves but otherwise my design is exactly how I thought it would be.

Patton: the cardigan he’s wearing should be the one he wore in season one just permanently him wearing it, but they don’t have long cardigans in GL2 so I improvised. I also don’t like his glasses.

Logan: pretend he’s wearing 3D glasses except with just two shades of blue, also the lanyard would say some shit like “Logan Sanders - The Skibidi Rizzler 🤔 (and also logic I guess…)

Janus: ugh, I do not like janus’s design at all but the weird green thing on his right hand is supposed to be scales.

Remus: He is supposed to look a lot cleaner and bland but I’m not sure if I like it, I think I’ll have to change his hairstyle cause it looks weird.

Hope you like em!

[chamerionwrites]

Why is it almost always the people whose work ain’t shit that have the most towering enormous ego about it

[wondergotham]

You Look Like You Love Me

Request: “can you make a joaquin torres imagine where sam basically raised you and was your father figure. after some time, you grow up and then joaquin comes into the picture. we meet and fall in love blah blah blah. please!!”

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader

Warning: Mentions of blood & death

Your father’s name was Riley. Riley Y/L/N. He was a pararescue for the Air Force and your Uncle Sam’s best friend.

They were both selected to be test pilots for the EXO-7 Falcon.

Tragically, your father was killed during the mission by an RPG.

Your Uncle Sam ended his Air Force service after this and was left with guilt and turmoil. Even though there was nothing he could've done it still haunted him.

You were 12 years old, left without both of your parents.

Your mom passed away a few days after she gave birth. You never met her, but you had many memories of your father and Uncle Sam.

Sam had known you his whole life.

He was there when your father told him he was going to be an uncle, he was at the hospital after your mother gave birth, when your father asked him to be your godfather…..and so on.

He was there for you both. Even years later.

So when Riley died he knew he couldn't let the government take you away. Not when he knew he could raise you.

He was going to keep his best friend's promise.

Sam knew he would never be able to raise you the way Riley and your mom would have. But he could try. And maybe he would need Sarah’s help…but he knew he could do it.

He had to. For his best friend.

“Sam, you have to promise me, brother, if something happens to me you'll take care of Y/n.”

Not a day goes by that Sam doesn’t think about what his best friend told him.

He remembers it clear as day.

The hand Riley placed on his shoulder and how he stared into his soul. It’s almost as if he knew something would happen to him.

Sam was taken aback. He was going to throw in a joke but his best friend's expression said it all.

He was serious.

It was Sam's turn to place his hand on Riley's shoulder. "Riley. I promise you I will protect and take care of Y/n. She's my goddaughter, my family, you can always count on me."

Riley nodded.

"Thank you Sam. My little girl and I are lucky to have you in our lives."

After that moment everything happened so fast. Riley's funeral, you receiving the burial flag, his will being read.

Riley Y/L/N was known for his infectious laughter and unwavering loyalty to those he loved. He had a vibrant life filled with adventure, but his greatest joy was being a father to you, his spirited daughter.

The bond you shared was unique, filled with bedtime stories, impromptu dance parties, and countless adventures in the backyard.

As you approached your 12th birthday, your father began to ponder about the future. He wanted to ensure that should anything happen to him, you would be safe and cared for.

After much reflection, he decided to draft his will, a task that was daunting but necessary.

"In the event of my death, I designate my best friend, Samuel Thomas Wilson, as the legal guardian of my daughter, Y/n Y/l/n. I trust him to provide her with love, guidance, and the support she deserves."

Riley signed the document with a sense of peace, knowing that Sam would be a steadfast guardian. They had always been there for each other, navigating life's storms side by side.

Sam was a natural choice, someone who understood his values and shared his dreams and love for you.

Sam, standing at the front of the court, felt a ripple of emotions. He had always known how much Riley loved you, and now he was entrusted with your future.

Despite the overwhelming sadness, he felt a sense of purpose ignite within him. He stepped forward, his heart heavy but determined. He looked at the judge.

"I promise to honor Riley's wishes," He affirmed, his voice steady. "Y/n will always have a home with me. I will be there for her, just as Riley would have wanted."

With that promise, Sam embraced his new role as your guardian. He moved you into his and Sarah's home, surrounded by memories that felt both comforting and heart-wrenching.

The first few weeks were challenging; you were still grappling with your grief, and Sam was navigating the complexities of parenthood.

In the months that followed the house was filled with laughter and love. Sam made sure to keep your father's memory alive, sharing stories of their adventures and teaching you the values your father held dear.

You both shared stories of him, laughing and crying as you remembered the man who had brought you two together.

One evening, as you both sat together on the porch, you looked up at Sam, your eyes filled with uncertainty. “Do you think Dad is watching over us?” You asked.

Sam nodded, his heart aching for your loss. “I believe he is. And I think he wants us to be happy, and continue living our lives to the fullest. He loved you so much Y/n. I know I'm not your dad sweetheart but I promise you will always be safe and loved. I will always be here for you, okay?"

"I know Uncle Sam. You know, my dad loved you too. He always said you were the brother he never had. He said something about you and him being the less rich version of Dr. Dre and Eminem."

Sam snorted before throwing his head back with laughter.

"Yeah, that sounds like your father."

As the months turned into years, Sam encouraged you to pursue your interests, from academics to sports, always reminding you that you were capable of achieving your dreams.

Though your father was gone, the love he had instilled in your lives continued to thrive, a testament to friendship, family, and the enduring power of love.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

Now several years later your bond was stronger than ever. After a lot of hesitation and lectures, Sam let you become an Avenger.

He knew your father would have wanted that for you. You both shared the passion to protect and help people.

You joined the Avengers when Tony brought Peter to the airport battle in Germany. (Not that you remember, because you didn't anymore)

Since then you've been helping the world and your Uncle/Godfather as Y/H/N. (Your hero name)

Earlier Sam received a call from President Ross. He was sending the both of you and Joaquin to Oaxaca, Mexico for a mission.

Luckily your uncle had been working with Joaquin for 3 years now so you were able to spend more time on the field kicking ass instead of being behind the computer.

Those days were long gone.

Sam did this because he still was hesitant about you joining on some missions. Despite the fact that Tony, Natasha and Steve continued to train you after Thanos had snapped half of the population away.

Your Uncle was one out of the many gone but you were left untouched. You had to live 5 years without the man that had became a second father to you.

To make a long story short you were a completely different person when Sam came back. You were all grown up.

You were a stronger, quicker, and more skilled fighter. But in the years that Sam was gone you also managed to set up a foundation named after your father.

The Riley Y/L/N Foundation, there was also a scholarship named after him and an award. Sam could not be more prouder. You had done great things in the time that he was gone.

He liked to believe him and Riley raised you well.

Now when it came to boys, Sam was definitely overprotective. He said,"No dating until you're 30." But that obviously wasn't going to happen.

Sure you had a few crushes here and there but they never became anything more.

Sam was certain he wouldn't have to worry about any guy coming into your life until he realized how big of a crush Joaquin had on you.

He did everything he could to delay the moment when you two would meet.

Today, it was out of his control.

Sam walked in first and you followed next to him.

As you step into the room, you feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Your attention is immediately drawn to Joaquin.

You feel a rush of anticipation. He’s cute, you think, noticing the way he fidgets slightly—a sign of his own nerves.

It makes you feel strangely comforted, as if you’re both navigating this moment together.

As Joaquin stands by, he feels a flutter of nerves in his stomach when he first sees you enter the room.

Wow, he thinks, she’s stunning.

You’re wearing a simple but beautiful dress under your white blazer that catches the light just right, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

His heart races as he notices the way your hair falls softly around your shoulders, framing your face.

"Joaquin?" Sam snapping his fingers instantly made the young man to look up at him.

Oh God it's bad, Sam thought.

"Sorry, you were saying?" He shook his head trying to refocus. There's no way he just made a fool of himself in front of you already.

The small giggle that escapes your lips is like music, and Joaquin can’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through him.

"I want you to meet my niece and goddaughter Y/n L/n also known as-"

"Y/H/N." Joaquin finished.

"She's going to be joining us on the mission today."

You caught the way he froze like a deer in headlights but found it adorable.

What if she doesn’t like me? The thought flickers through Joaquin's mind, but it quickly fades as he recalls your smile.

This must be what they mean by love at first sight, he muses, a mix of excitement and disbelief washing over him.

He feels his cheeks heat up, wishing he could muster the confidence to say something without stumbling over his words.

Just be yourself, he reminds himself, taking a deep breath.

As you move closer, he prepares himself, ready to embrace whatever magic might come from this first meeting.

He takes a steadying breath, feeling both excitement and anxiety swirling in his stomach.

Finally, gathering his courage, he steps forward, his heart pounding like a drum. His step feels monumental, he knows he can’t let this chance slip away.

“Hey, I’m Joaquin, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm a huge fan of your work both on and off the field."

He extends his arm waiting for you to shake his hand. You feel a warmth spread through you.

His voice might be a bit shaky, but there’s an earnestness in his words that captivates you.

"Especially with everything you have done to preserve your father's legacy. It's incredible.” He smiles, his voice slightly shaky but warm, hoping to convey his genuine interest.

He’s different, you think, appreciating how he seems genuinely interested in you.

When your hand finally meets his he swears he could have flatlined in that moment. Your hand is small but soft with a gentle yet firm grip.

Your eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Thank you Joaquin that's very sweet of you I really appreciate it. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, I've heard a lot about you.”

The moment your eyes lock, a spark ignites within him. He feels an electric connection, as if the world around you has faded into the background.

You feel a spark—a sense of possibility.

Could this be something special? The thought comes through your mind, making your heart race even faster.

You find yourself leaning in, drawn to his sincerity and charm. It's so easy to talk to him.

For the first time in a while, you feel giddy and hopeful about what might unfold between you both.

"All good things I hope." Joaquin chuckles nervously.

"And nothing but, I promise." You wink.

Dios mío, he thinks.

For a split second one of Joaquin's knees gives in but he quickly recovers by standing back up straight.

It went unnoticed to you as you glanced at your phone but not to Sam.

In that moment, Joaquin feels a rush of hope. Maybe this is the start of something special.

He realizes that this simple conversation is not just a moment; it’s the beginning of a connection he’s been yearning for.

"Okay sweetheart let me show you where you can put your gear. We're gonna be taking off soon." Sam wraps his arm around your shoulder leading you away.

You nodded excitedly looking at Joaquin before following your uncle, "I'll see you later Joaquin."

"Yeah, of course." He smiles.

Sam looks at him mouthing a no and shaking his finger before walking out with you.

Joaquin just chuckles quietly.

He can’t help but feel a sense of excitement about this unexpected connection. He enjoyed the small moment, already imagining the laughter and adventures you might share in the future.

Little did he know, you were doing the same.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

A/N:

If you use the page break above give credits. Thank you.

[deadsetobsessions]

Bruce didn’t come here often. Perhaps that was terrible of him but he couldn’t bear to visit his son’s resting place. It was difficult to equate his high-spirited son, bright as the sun itself and endlessly brilliant despite the more he grew up in, to the cold and lifeless stone engraved with his name and words that did not encompass everything his son was to him.

His hands were full of flowers, Jason’s favorite books, a round rock, and his son’s favorite foods.

Bruce didn’t come here often, because it broke his heart even more when he did, but today was a day that love and grief triumphed over his need to avoid.

He walked down the winding pathway, Alfred a silent sentinel behind him. He hated it, but he understood. Today was the only day Alfred allowed himself to be emotionally closed off. He’d lost a grandson.

Bruce didn’t come here often, but his son’s birthday was a day Bruce would remember how to love and live again, just for Jason.

“I will be over here, Master Bruce.” Alfred stopped at his designated spot, where Bruce had added a bench and a draping tree to shade Alfred as he stood vigil.

The first time they’d- it was April, and the sun- after the funeral, Bruce was lost in the throes of grief and had kneeled over the freshly tilled dirt for hours. Alfred had stood there, in that same spot, in the city’s rare blazing sun until Bruce came back to himself.

Bruce had almost lost his second father that day, and what good was wealth if it could not prevent that? And so, water, shade, a bench, and a space heater was added.

Bruce knows better than anyone how stubborn Alfred can be, when it comes to matters of the heart. After all, he didn’t have to raise Bruce after Martha and Thomas died.

“Alright, Alfred.”

Bruce splits from the haggard butler with pointed looks at the water bottles he’d prepared for today for Alfred (who manages, this time, a faint but amused raise of an eyebrow) and walks towards Jason Todd’s grave.

Here where his son is buried, the grass is kept green. In April, Forget-Me-Nots bloomed and dotted the place where Bruce’s world collapsed with bright colors. In August, it is still green, but the tin engraved with the names of the deceased stood out without the flowers.

Bruce kneeled and quietly arranged the flowers before placing them in the tin. He set the platters of food down and uncovered them. The scent of chili dogs made his heart stutter, flashes of a bright smile and book references blinding Bruce with their nostalgia.

He swallowed, grief building, and placed the stone he’d brought atop the gravestone. He sat back, gripping Jason’s book with white knuckles.

Bruce didn’t turn around when clothing rustled behind him. Alfred would have verbally cut down anyone that dared to approach them today, especially here. That he didn’t do so was telling of who it would be.

“I’m still mad at you, for not telling me as soon as you knew.” Dick Grayson sat down, hand over one of Jason’s school bag pins he had carefully attached to the front of his jacket.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“He deserved better. I should have been there.” Dick whispered, placing another bundle of flowers into the tin. It fit, but barely. “I would have dropped everything to come find him. Even if it wasn’t on time, even if it wasn’t enough, I deserved to be there when he was buried. We were family.”

“I know.” Bruce repeated, no less regretful. In his grief, he had wronged his loved ones. “I’m sorry.”

Dick casted a quiet, assessing eye at him. Bruce stayed quiet.

“It’s too dreary,” Dick said. He took out paints, little statutes of robins, bright birds, and bits and bobs Bruce knew Jason would have loved had he been alive out of his pockets.

“It should be more colorful,” Dick murmured as he placed them artfully against the headstone.

They sat there, for a while. Dick glanced at… at Bruce’s hand, and settled down.

It’d been a while since they’ve spoken, but he knew what the man intentioned to do today. This will be the most Dick will have heard Bruce speak outside of his civilian obligations.

Bruce took the cue and gently opened Jason’s book. He’d bought it for Jason- the first gift- and he’d read it to Jason every night. Dick had a similar book.

“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having little or no money in my purse…”

——

A boy with black hair and blue eyes wandered amongst the graveyard. They’ve been here for a while, and the man’s low rumble was soothing to listen to. The shades that hung about the graveyard settled as he read out loud from the book as his son sat quietly beside him.

As the boy, invisible and intangible, brushed his hand against the gravestone, he wondered why they were reading to an empty grave.

——

Dick had left long before Bruce did.

And when it was time to go, as stars began to climb and as the cold began to nip at his fingers, Bruce heard a quiet voice.

“Do not stand at his grave and weep,” and Bruce turned, recognizing the poem. “He is not there. He does not sleep.”

But there was no-one.

[astridthevalkyrie]

me getting into a new character: how neurodivergent am i allowed to go

cw: fluff + a few mild horny thoughts

Rafayel has this little quirk where he's practically incapable of acting like a normal boyfriend. Or a normal person, honestly. Where other people would just take your hand walking down the street, he holds it out with a too-happy, beaming grin so that he can see you take it yourself. Where other people would just sit down at a fancy restaurant, he makes mock offended noises if you try to sit before he can make a big show of pulling your chair out for you.

Where other people would kiss you, he likes biting.

"I'm thinking," he muses, nibbling on your earlobe, "what about a diamond necklace?"

You sigh, burrowing yourself further into him, back against his chest. You're quite comfortable, and you could even fall asleep if it wasn't for his constant yammering. "No."

"Come on," he complains, sinking his teeth into your cheek this time. You let out a brief sound of exasperation, trying to bat at him, but he remains steadfast, tongue poking out to soothe the minor indent he leaves into your skin. "How'm I supposed to prove myself if you won't let me?"

"How would you buying me a diamond necklace prove anything?"

One of his hands slips under your shirt, resting right under your chest. His fingers knead whatever they get in contact with—it's not painful, actually it feels pretty good, not that you'd ever admit it to him. Though you suppose, turning around in his hold and silently indicating to him to pull you closer may just be admitting exactly that.

"It'd prove I'm not cheap, for one thing. I'd be able to tell everyone, whatever my girlfriend wants, she gets! You're so strange, not wanting anything. Do you even know how rich I am?"

"Tell you what," you mumble, burying your face in his neck and completely melting in his arms as soon as his comforting scent fills your senses, "you buy me a quesadilla tomorrow and I'll tell everyone you're practically my sugar daddy."

Rafayel scoffs. "Like anyone would ever believe you were a sugar baby. You don't have the constitution for it."

That might be a new lead in the top ten strangest insults you've ever heard from him. Shooting a small glare up his way, you bite back, "Are you going to let me sleep or are you gonna keep talking?"

"Keep talking," he answers without hesitation, then barrels forward before you can protest. "Hmm, maybe I should just fill my place up with amenities for you. Cheese plates in the kitchen. Exfoliators in the bathroom. A butler to take your coat."

The ridiculous idea of him hiring a butler just so someone could occasionally take your coat from you when you come over makes you laugh, which in turn puts a pleased smile on his face and accidentally encourages him to continue.

"What's that kids' movie you like? Twelve Dancing Princesses? What if I just repaint this room with the floor design from that?"

Now hang on. This one actually interests you, the idea of playing out your childhood fantasies out by dancing around in Rafayel's room. If you asked, you're sure he'd hire someone to replicate the same dress the main character from that movie wears too. "Wouldn't that be embarrassing? Anyone who comes here would see it."

"Yeah, something tells Thomas won't care. And if anyone else does come here, they'll probably write a boringly long article meant to flatter me. Renowned artist is super nice and generous to his childish girlfriend—"

"Says the guy who cried during Island Princess," you fire back, "also, it's nice to know you're only trying to spoil me for acclaim."

"Hello? Did you miss the part where I said boringly long? I'm trying to spoil you because I want you to spend my money."

"Why? It turns you on or something?"

"Maybe," he grins, pretending to lean in to kiss you, then sinking his teeth into your cheek once more the second you purse your lips to meet him halfway. With a quiet growl, you kick at his feet, and he only laughs against your skin. "Come oooon, I'm serious. Tell me at least one expensive thing I can get you."

Finally, you open your eyes, looking up at him with all your sincerest conviction. "Raf. If you wanna ruin your reputation and renovate your floor into the Twelve Dancing Princesses one just to prove a point, go for it. But I'm warning you, I'm gonna have to give you the best head of your life if you do that."

Rafayel groans, the hand that's not up your shirt tangling into your hair. "Don't tell me that, you're gonna force me to be selfless and turn it down. This isn't transactional. I give you my card and tell you to go wild, and then you just do it. Nothing in return."

Ah, yes, the Raf classic. Say the sweetest possible thing in the most irritating way he possibly can. Well, two can play at that game.

"If you give me your card and expect nothing in return, I'm going to strictly buy paint supplies in all your favorite brands, all your favorite colors—"

"I don't have favorite colors—"

Clamping a hand over his mouth, you press on. "And your weak attempt to spoil me will fall flat because not only will I only buy things you like, but I'll wire you the entire amount of what I spend the next day."

He lets out a dramatic half-whine, shaking you a little. "Man, you're so embarrassing!" Tugging you closer, he drowns out your complaints with his own protests. "So clingy, stop getting so close to me! Oh my god," he moans, holding your hand tighter the more you try to fight him and pull back, "get away from me, stalker. Let go!"

"Holy shit, you're so annoying—"

"And you're so obsessed with me, it's concerning."

For once, you're the one pouting at him. "I'm trying to sleep. You're really warm. Can you please push my limits later?"

An affectionate smile lights up his face. "Yeah, okay. As long as you agree tomebuyingyouapradabag."

"No."

Rafayel snorts, tucking his face into your hair. "And you think you could handle being a sugar baby."

[brailsthesmolgurl]

WARDROBE MALFUNCTION!

A smol bird requested for this to be written and so here I am, playing fairy godmother! If any of you have any sort of requests, just drop me a dm as I am revived from my death and ready to write more delulus as your solulus!

Context: What happens when your outfit decides NOT to cooperate with you? What will the boys do for you?

Disclaimer: This one-shot is created with me studying their lore on various websites and social media so that I could get a better idea on what colours they like/represent and what style they lean towards. Some of you may disagree but its okay! You can read it as it is and add in your own imagery of a suitable outfit by your hubbies! Warnings: Fluff that might rot your brains.

RAFAYEL

"I am almost done with this piece," Rafayel spoke, eyes still glued to his canvas, one hand holding up his messily stained colour palette, while the other held the brush as he drew strokes across the canvas. "Why don't you go and get changed as you wait for me to finish off this bit, yeah?"

"Yes sir." You quirkily replied and you stood up, spotting him sending you a teasing look given the way you addressed him. Earlier on, some strangers had came by Rafayel's mansion with Thomas to deliver some clothes. Apparently, these clothes are custom made by those luxurious brands specifically for Rafayel. Thomas addressed it as this was one of the ways the luxury brands show their support towards Rafayel's works. ONE OF THE WAYS... At this point, you are convinced that Rafayel is a huge deal and having luxurious brands begging on their knees to work with him sounded like a dream that would never come true to you.

The dress that sat on the bed was delivered for you as well, as per Rafayel's request. There was objection amongst the team that were handling the sponsorship and ambassador deals for the brand. But Rafayel spoke through the phone like he owns the company. "If she does not get a gown, then our business ends. Right now." He hung up abruptly, and the next thing he knew, the dress showed up at his door in less than 30 minutes.

Any brands, regardless luxurious or not, knows the right way and only way to please Rafayel. One wrong move and you are off the chart and some other brand may easily replace you. Hence, nobody dares to mess with Rafayel. Except for you. "The dress on the bed is yours!" He shouted from the living room and you picked up the dress.

The chiffon textured dress is of a forest green colour, going all the way down to your ankles. The strapless design made you gulped as you are not used to outfits of this measure, given the nature of your work, whereas your attire has to be 'appropriate for work in times of need'. Touching the inner material, you sighed in relief as you realised that there was bra padding for you hence you do not have to go all the way out to get a new bra just for this event.

Putting on the dress and zipping it up was easy, and you fit almost perfectly into the dress. The keyword being ALMOST. As you lifted your hands up, the dress started sliding down like it is a floatie on a wet water slide and woop, off it went and onto the ground. You panicked, bending down in one fell swoop and trying to gather the dress so that you can pull it up to your chest again.

But it does not let you go past the waist area unless you unzip it. Groaning, you struggled to find the zip as the dress is really puffy and you did not want to ruin the designer dress. "Is everything okay?" Rafayel stood at the doorway, leaning against the side of his door, as he watched you with amusement written all over his face. He has been standing there for quite a while hasn't he?

You gasped, pulling whatever that is on the floor to cover your chest area and he walked over, analysing the dress and scowling when he found out the reason. "I should have gotten them to measure you instead of just bringing you a standard fit." He took his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen a couple of times. His eyes looked back at you and you bit your lip in embarassment. "Your curves are way too beautiful to be hidden amongst this pile of leaves."

His comment made you giggled. Guess he has the same thought as you. "Toss the dress aside darling, I will get you a new one." Another few taps of the finger, he shows you the dress he has in mind. A purple dress with extravagant sleeves, puffing out like how a jellyfish would and you instantaneously knew why he opted for this dress. "I like purple better anyways."

"But wait Rafayel... this dress is not entirely scrap, maybe I can sew a temporary knot on it to tighten the top so it won't fall off. And there is really no need for you to get another custom one for me as we are running out of time." Your suggestion made him stare at you, purple-blue pupils blown wide as if he has really just witnessed a shark eating grass. iykyk.

He walked over and grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close to him, so close that you could hear the sound of his heart against yours. But at this moment, maybe he could hear yours louder than his. "Nobody can put a price on your love for me. EVER. But, I can sure as hell throw out any price on anyone, regardless the amount, as a representation of how much you worth to me." You looked away immediately, eyes stared at the arms that were holding you in place. He kissed your forehead, chuckling, before he pressed his phone against his ear. "Now, let's see who can make this dress for the price I am willing to pay in 30 minutes time." he makes me feel something

ZAYNE

You waited on a bench in front of Akso Hospital. You figured it would be a great idea to wait for Zayne as he finishes work early today and you might be able to grab dinner with him. You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, looking through your daily for-you-page before a shadow loomed over you. You looked up and no doubt, it is Zayne aka the great and almightly Elsa.

"How long have you been sitting here?" He asked you, before handing you a candy that he had fished out from the pocket of his trench coat. "I was planning to meet you slightly later at your condo." The thought of him initially wanting to surprise you made your heart fluttered. You see, Zayne is a more upfront guy so having him to plan surprises are one of the uncalled scenarios.

"I had only been here for a couple of minutes." You lied, taking the candy out of his palm and unwrapped it before you tossed it into your mouth. The raise of his eyebrow towards you made your breath hitched as he knew you too well that you could not lie to him in his face. "Fine, I had waited here since 5pm." This made Zayne looked down at his wrist watch.

"So it's been an hour and 15 minutes?" He side eyed you and you admitted it by nodding your head. "Next time, it would be better if you were to just wait for me at home. If it wasn't for a full deck today at the hospital, I might just be covering shifts for other people and that might be inconvenient for you." But, he himself actually noticed you exactly an hour and 15 minutes, from his office's window, before his upcoming surgery. He had another three surgeries lined up for the night, but fearing that you may end up waiting the whole night for him, he decided to cancel his schedule for the night and transfer the case to other doctors. Even workaholics take a break. iykyk

"But I just wanted to come over to check up on you. I even chose to sit outside so that you would not be distracted as you are working." You pouted, hands picking at the hem of your shirt. You felt Zayne's hand landed on the top of your head, a gesture of love and comfort. He patted and smoothed your brunette strands back and you stared up at him. "I shall wait for you at home next time okay?"

"Now that's a good girl." killmeplease Zayne smiled warmly. "Now, lets get you back alright? My car is parked right by the road side. Come on." Hands around your waist, he slowly walked you over to his car. The smell of his cologne lingered on your nose, the smell of mint and dashes of cinnamon. Just like his personality, icy as mint but warm and welcoming as cinnamon once you get to know him.

He opened the car door for you and as you walked over to get into the car, your shirt got hooked against one of the metal wires that went astray from the metal fencing and the next thing you heard was the sound of a ripping cloth. You yelped as you stumbled and Zayne slotted himself right in front of you, shocked as well and using his body to block you from falling further. "Oh my..." Your cursed under your breath as your hands were against his washboard abs, steadying yourself. doublekill

He guided you into the car slowly before getting into the driver side himself. When he had started the car and turned on the air conditioning, he turned to look at you. "How bad is the rip?" He asked and you lifted the hem of your shirt, showing the rip that is around 4cm long.

"Why does this have to happen to one of my favourite shirt?" You frowned, fingers won't stop touching and fidgeting with the ripped edge.

"Do they still sell this shirt?" Zayne asked, hands reaching over to tug against the shirt, as if to examine the material of the outfit. The shake of your head made him sigh and he gestured to the glovebox. "Open the glovebox and take out the black pouch please."

You did as you were told and you watched in confusion as he took off his trench coat and placed it onto your lap. The coat still radiating warmth that was collected off of his body heat. He opened the black pouch and laid it flat on the arm rest of his car, and inside of the pouch was an array of threads and needles. "Are these suture needles?"

"Yes." His response was prompt. "Take off your shirt and hand it to me please." He requested and you gulped. Using the trench coat to block his view, you slowly took off your shirt and then wrapped his trench coat around your whole front. You knew that he had probably seen many naked bodies given his line of work but something about this scenario, with you being with him only in a car, felt very intimate and it made you very anxious. "You know how to sew?"

"I am a doctor, I know how to suture. And it is the same concept as sewing, but only with different kinds of needles and threads." He then started sewing, his concentration a trait you find admirable. It did not took him long when he finished sewing your shirt and he handed it back to you, the thread sewed on has gaps of equal length and was tied off neatly. As expected of one of the top doctors from Akso Hospital. As he started driving, he added. "Although I had managed to sew the shirt for you, I believe with my connections, I would be just as capable to find you the same shirt. Then, you would never have to complain about this being your only favourite shirt."

XAVIER

You were going about your day in your own house before you heard your doorbell ringing. You placed your bowl of cereal down and took a glance on the clock on your phone. Who dares to threaten your peaceful weekend? You went over to the door and you opened it to reveal your blond hair lover. "Xavier?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed when he smiled at you.

"Good morning, I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He teased and stepped in, holding out a parcel for your. "I believe this belongs to you?" The small rip at the top side of your parcel indicated that he probably took a peek on what's inside. Acknowledging the parcel, you took it off of his hands and you blushed, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

"Good morning to you too. I guess I might have accidentally wrote your level instead of mine." You bit your bottom lip and you heard him chuckle in return. "But thanks for coming down to deliver this to me when you could have just asked me to get it from you." "But I wanted to see you personally. And seeing the clothes that are in the parcel, I thought I could get to watch you try them on too." His blunt answer made you stare at him like a mad man. His blue eyes however, glinted with nothing but honesty. This guy may be mysterious but he sure is straightforward in stating what he has on his mind. He probably noticed the way you reacted and he took a step back, retracing his words and slightly coughing to ease the awkwardness. "I mean, I would like to see you trying out these new outfits that you had gotten for yourself. It would be a good past time for me."

You chuckled at how goofy this guy is and gestured towards him to go and sit at the couch. You went into the room to get yourself changed and it was as if today is your fashion show day. You strutted out in different outfits, layered against one another and watched the way Xavier would react to you, either fascinated, or straight down confused. There was even this one time, he would just have a blank expression where you wore an oversized shirt under your tshirt. Clothing trends on the streets nowadays baffles him and he wondered if he was the one that was left out from the fashion ring.

Your last outfit featured you in a semi see through tank top and a pair of cargo pants. Not to mention, the tank top seemed to be too small for you as the way the blond boy sees it, it was holding onto your figure for dear life and barely leaving anything more to one's imagination. And the thought itself ticked him off. When you looked over towards Xavier, he does not look surprised nor confused, but rather bland. "What do you think?" Your tone came off to be amused and you did a twirl in front of him before you took a seat right next to him.

Xavier anxiously gulped and looked away from you, his voice low as he muttered. "I don't think this outfit looks nice on you, girlfriend." The way he shifted in his seat made you cornered him against the couch even more, wanting a better explanation. "The top you are wearing. I don't like it."

"And why so?" You asked, looking down at your top and adjusting it. "This is the trend nowadays, they call it the Y2K trend I think. And this tank top was on sale, so I just got it."

"I can buy you some other clothes. Even the ones that are not going to be on sale." He retorted, eyeing the tank top you were wearing with an underlying anger. "I just don't think I would like to see you wearing this in public. It is too revealing, and I guess tight on your body."

His answer painted your cheeks red and you gasped. What were you thinking? Of course you had forgotten about his possesive nature. He does not show it much and having such a pretty boy face like him further disconnects the word 'possessive' from his character. He reached into his hoodie's front pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up an app and handed the phone to you. When you refused to take it, he lifted his torso off of the couch to 'force' you to take his phone. Just like how you had previously pressed your body against him, this is his turn to take his small and sweet revenge. You panicked as he closed the gap between you two and within the next minute, he was pressed against you, one of his hand at the side of your head and another still holding his phone up to you, his gaze intense. "Just choose whatever you want from my phone, my card information is all in there. And perhaps before you check out, you can let me double check on the outfits you are getting." He low-key demanded before he explained himself for such a decision. "I just don't like nor want people staring wrongfully at what I treasure the most."

Another fluff for another day. I already did my best in having to think of different wardrobe malfunctions as I did not want one theme of wardrobe malfunction to be stagnant across the whole story for all three of the boys. SO I hope you would understand my lovelies. :,) I am very very free so I will be posting more regularly for these few weeks. SO please do show me more love and support as that would aid me in my motivation in writing!

Do check out my other works as well!

HOW WOULD THE BOYS REACT TO YOU FORGETTING ABOUT YOUR DATE?

DAMNATION

Hope your Delulu is satisfied my lovelies <3

[twist3dd4ydr3ams]

Pick me up pt.1

Words: 1.6k

Summary: After a terrible night out with your boyfriend of 6 months, it ends with some really red flags and you, sitting out on the pavement alone at 2am. You have nobody else to call but Marc.

Pairing: friend!marc spector x reader friend!jake lockley x reader friend!steven grant x reader

Warnings: substance use, alcohol abuse, domestic violence, violence in general, angst, swearing, abusive relationship, arguments, angsty stuff (I promise fluff later)

After a long night out you step outside into the biting October air as you wait for your boyfriend to be done in the restroom. You sigh, checking your phone from inside your small handbag.

1:47 am

Your eyes widened finally realizing what time it was. You had taken your boyfriend out to celebrate a new and exciting promotion he had gotten at work.

Unfortunately one thing led to another and he had ended up a little drunker than you’d anticipated. It had taken a little over an hour to convince him to leave the pub. when you finally did, you had to leave him inside so that he would actually leave with you.

You had dressed to the absolute nines. You had put on an outfit specifically designed for him. His favorite colors, things he’s complimented you on before, ect.

Tonight however, he seemed too taken with his excitement to notice. You’d decided to pay it no mind. It's only human he should be excited for his new career opportunity.

You frowned looking down at the outfit you’d put together, a bit disheartened he hadn’t even told you it looked nice when you asked.

You tried not to think of that. Or the unpleasant feeling that was starting to wrack your body from how long you’d been out and standing about for.

When he finally reached you out by the curb, you were able to have a good look at him.

Shit. He was completely blasted. You didn’t know why it had taken you so long to see it. Perhaps it had been the unhappy feeling that bubbled in your throat you kept swallowing down throughout the night.

You pushed the thought from your mind as you shifted your focus towards getting him in a cab and back home.

“Ok, let's get going then alright?” You said to him, while trying to see if you could call a cab this late.

“My loveee” he slurred clinging to you. “I don’t want to leave.” He said firmly but you laughed it off. Afterall he was way too drunk to know what he was really talking about.

You roll your eyes but you keep the conversation playful so as to not upset him. As you noticed he seemed to get a bit of a temper when he drank.

“Is that so?” You hum as you scroll your phone, an uber would have to do you decided.

He grabs your hand roughly tugging you back towards the pub. You start to stumble as you follow.

“Yes! Lets go get a few more rounds and then we can go home!” He says almost incoherently. He pulls you forward as you protest.

“No no no no. We can’t Justin, we’ve got to go home, I've got work in the morning remember?” You try to remind him gently. Unfortunately for you, he’s having none of it.

“You’re no fun! Go home then! I’m going to stay here.” He says, almost as if he’s challenging you.

“No you can’t stay here. How would you even get home after a few more rounds?” You ask expectantly. When there is no answer you click your tongue. “Exactly.”

He sighs and heads back towards you. You sigh in relief, you thought he was finally going to listen to reason.

He however approaches with hostility as he grabs onto you again.

“C’mon darling just come back inside. Have fun for once!” He spits at you.

You yank yourself away from him assessing him. This was extremely different to any way you'd ever seen him act before.

“Thomas, no. I don’t want to and I don’t want to just leave you here also! What is going on? You've never acted this way before?” You ask, your face painted with shock.

“Because you’re seriously uptight, and also a bitch.” He says with a childish groan. “I fucking hate it just lighten up. You always suck the fun out of everything!” He yelled back through his slurred speech.

You looked at him. “If that’s how you feel, we are done here. I don’t care how blasted you are, I deserve respect. And you will not speak to me like I’m someone you don’t know or don’t care for.” You said angrily, completely and totally fed up.

You turned on your heel and started to make your way down the street but now your phone had died and you couldn’t even call an uber.

You usually held back your emotions pretty well. You tried to ‘just focus on finding a way home’ instead of the way you felt but there was ultimately no luck.

The feeling of a hand closing tightly around your wrist was enough to pull you very harshly out of your thoughts.

“Don’t you walk away from me bitch!” He yelled as you struggled against his grip.

“Get away! Get off me!” You yelled. You made sure to cause a scene and fight just in case anyone happened to hear and wanted to help.

Eventually after much struggling and pleading with him and every god you could think of you finally pushed him off.

Though the momentary relief was not enough to help the situation it seemed as he winded back and pushed you to the ground.

You’d stumbled as you fell hitting the ground hard. Your head hit the pavement with a loud unsettling sound as you coughed around the air on impact.

You knew you were bleeding somewhere you just couldn’t pinpoint it where yet. Pure shock wracked your body as well as the pain, it came in waves.

“Stay down. Bitch!” He called walking towards the pub again. That was the last time you ever saw him.

You sat up and stumbled realizing you were bleeding from your forehead, and a lot.

“Shit.” You murmur, panicked and dazed. You reach for your phone before remembering its dead. You curse again and stand up shakily.

You did see a payphone around the corner, you remember it vaguely.

You make your way there pulling some change from your pocket. Thank the gods you actually happened to have some.

You didn’t want to have to call them. You knew it had been years since you’d even seen all of them

truthfully. You weren’t sure if they would even answer the phone, but it was the only number you knew by heart. And the only option besides waiting until sunrise for a bus.

The phone rang three times before the call connected. Your breath hitched into your throat as heard the man on the other end of the phone.

“You’ve reached Steven Grant, how can I help you?” He sounded groggy, but not like he had been asleep long, if at all.

“Steven? It’s me.” You swallowed thickly it's been two years since you’d spoken to him last.

He said your name into the phone, shock lacing his tone. You could hear movement on the other end of the phone.

“I’m so sorry about this truly, I know it’s late.” You ramble, taking a shaky breath before starting again.

“Please come pick me up.” You finally manage, a twinge of sadness coating your words.

You can hear his fumbling become more frantic now.

“What’s going on? Where are you? Where’s your phone?” He asks hurriedly you hear a thud and then the jingling of keys.

“I’ll explain later. On the corner of First and Seventh. Dead. Steven, you don’t know how to drive!” You panic as the thought of him trying to figure out the car flashed in your mind.

“Relax. I got it. You’re outside?” Jake asked hurriedly. You could hear the annoyance in his voice but you could tell it wasn’t at you.

“Are ya’ hurt?” He asked, the engine roared with life in the background.

“I’m fine.” You lied quickly trying to avoid all the questions so she could leave.

You knew he’d see right through you and at this point you didn't care. As long as he came and picked you up you wouldn’t care about anything else.

He huffed “No me mientas, querida.” Don’t lie to me, dear.

You sigh and choke back a tear. You just want this to be over with.

“Yes but It’s only a few scratches really, I’m fine.”

You can almost hear the leather gloves squelching as his grip tightens.

You move to say something else but the call ends on you. You ran out of quarters.

You hear the loud screeching of tires from around the corner.

“Shit” you mumble you know instantly that’s Jake’s car. You hurry towards the sound and before you know it he’s in front of you.

“What happened?” The car door slammed shut as he made his way to you. He inspected your injuries thoroughly.

“I fell…he…well…I…” you found yourself unable to make sentences. You felt yourself getting choked up.

He put a hand on your shoulder gently.

“Hey hey, it’s ok. Breathe for me.” He said looking at you. “We’re gonna help you, it's ok just talk to me.�� He encourages.

“He pushed me. Thomas…he pushed me.” You said finally. You didn’t know what to do. You felt at a loss.

“Get in the car.” He said shortly, his temper wearing thin. You scurry into the car and put on your seat belt,

“My place or yours?” He asked you gently, trying to distract himself so he wouldn’t turn the car around and bash that bastard’s brain in.

“Yours please.” You say quietly as you keep your gaze out the window.

The car rolls away from the pub and your head starts to swim as you get further and further from the events that had just happened.

Hi my lovelies! This is just part one of a mini series I’m starting just for you! I know it's a bit angsty. I promise it'll get better and lighter as it goes! Please if you like it don’t be afraid to drop a note or a comment! Requests for oneshots are open! Drink some water friends!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Members Only 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Grace is in tears. She’s babbling as Charlotte and Mona try to mop up her running mascara. The bottle of champagne is empty and Lillian is mindlessly swaying at the window as the club lights flash into the room. It’s chaos. You’re not sure exactly what to do. 

You’ve been with Mrs. Shelby for a few months. Typically, she’s the sort for high tea or a luncheon. Often, you’re following her around to the elitist events and waiting outside watching your phone. Or you attend her privately why she rants about the newest designs be so hard to come by or that she can’t go to Paris whenever she wishes. Her biggest complaints are your most unlikely dreams. 

“I just don’t understand... I try so hard,” she garbles and slurs drunkenly.  

You try not to listen too closely. You’re there to take orders and to make certain she is taken care of. The other women are looking after her just fine and you’d hate to embarrass her by consciously witnessing her unraveling. 

Mona burps behind her hand and you see how her throat locks up. She’s hardly in better condition. Charlotte is slumping from her foray into the tequila and hardly seems cognizant of more than try to clear away the grey streaks from Grace’s cheeks. 

You rush forward as Mona’s shoulders rise. You grab the metal bucket meant for ice and shove it under her mouth. She throws up and hugs the container as she fills it with alcoholic bile and half-digested crustini. Charlotte groans and covers her mouth. 

“Oh, Mona, why do you have to do that?” She whines, “ugh, I need to get out--” 

She hurries off into the attached bathroom and the door slams. Lillian is still entirely unaware. You wonder if it has anything to do with the pill she slipped from a small tin earlier. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter. What concerns you is what’s happening right then. 

Mona finishes and nearly drops the bucket. You catch it and set it on the bar. She slumps back and closes her eyes, her head lolling as she mutters. This is no way for refined women to behave. You could never have seen Grace like this, let alone these women in their Chanel and Louboutins. 

“Mrs. Shelby,” you go to your boss and lean down, “should I get the car?” 

“Where is my husband?” She snarls in your face, her tears dissolving at once. “I want Thomas. Right now.” 

“Mrs. Shelby, I don’t know if he’s still here--” 

“I don’t care if he’s here,” she snaps and pushes you away, “don’t talk to me until you find him.” 

You gulp and rub your shoulder where she shoved you. This isn’t good. It’s the very reason you don’t drink. People are so ugly when they do. 

You turn to Mona as she groans, half-bent over her lap. Charlotte returns in a stagger and Lillian sways with her head and shoulders slouched. Alright, you have a plan. 

“Lil,” you go over to the woman by the window, “can you help Mona? Your taxi is here?” 

“Taxi? Where’s the streetcar?” She demands. 

“It’s been delayed but the cab will get you all home,” you promise her, plotting how you’ll flag down a car once you get them out in the fresh air. “Mona,” you go back to the woman on the couch. “Charlotte, how about you help too! It’s been a long night, aren’t you all tired?” 

Your pulse is thumping in your temples. You rarely ever speak to Grace’s friends, especially not like this. You feel like a mother getting her children in line. The three companions finally cluster together, Mona clinging to the other two as they wobble towards the door. You lead them as if you’re dangling cheese before a mouse. 

It takes some time and a few close calls to get them down the spiralled stairs. On even ground, they move a bit better but the dancing bodies and hollers add to the disorder of the night. When you get them outside, a bouncer catches Lillian before she slip on her stiletto heel. He’s got a round belly and a leering smile. 

“Careful, ma’am, that’s a mighty fine dress to be mussing,” he warns as he sets her straight. 

You skirt around them and wave at a yellow car just down the way. As it heads towards you, you take out your phone and sift through Grace’s shared contact book. Oh gosh, where is Charlotte? You suppose if you send them to just one house, they’ll be alright. 

You find Charlotte’s address as the driver pulls up. The bouncer comes forward again to assist the women into the car and you thank him. He dips his head chivalrously as he folds Lillian’s legs into the taxi. You cringe and poke your head inside to instruct the driver. You hope they get there otherwise you might be handing out resumes again. 

You shut the door and turn back to face the club. You’re not the sort to frequent those places and only Grace’s presence lures you in. The bouncer walks you back to the doors and you flit back inside. You’re caught in the crush, sent crashing into another person by a flailing body. You fight through the crowd, putting your elbow up as you raise your other arm to protect your head. 

You trip free of the wall of dancers and reach the bottom of the stairs to the private room. You blow out a breath and look up, then around. You should try to find Mr. Shelby. You need help with Grace as it is but you’re terrified that you may get her into trouble. She’s drunk and she’s not thinking. You doubt he’ll be impressed with her in her current state. He rarely seems impressed with anything. 

“Are you looking for me?” The voice jolts you and you jump as you face the very man who’d only just been haunting your mind. You nod and blink dumbly. “My wife...” 

“Sir, um,” you look back and forth guiltily, “she’s... not feeling well--” 

“She’s drunk,” he says pointedly. “Hmm,” his lips curve but it’s not really a smile. “Yes, she does love her champagne. We discussed this before, didn’t we?” His dark lashes flick and his jaw squares as he peers up the stairs, “well, then, shall we go save her from herself?” 

“Um, sir, she didn’t eat much, maybe--” 

“Do not make excuse for her. I pay you to keep her busy, not to cover her tail,” he insists, “please, after you.” 

He gestures up the stairs and you lower your gaze, “I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. I’m only concerned for her.” 

“Someone should be if she isn’t concerned for herself,” he remarks. 

You turn and start up the steps. He follows, closely. You lead him up the metal stairs and open the door to the private room. Your met with the shatter of the champagne bottle as it flies at the door frame next to you. You put your hand up as shards of glass rain across your right side. 

“How dare you leave me like that--” She snarls. 

“Grace!” Mr. Shelby brushes by you, nudging you gently out of his way, only to storm towards his wife. 

“Oh, there you are,” she sneers, “finally done with your whore--” 

“I’ve been about business while you’ve been here drowning in champagne. Champagne I am paying for.” He bends over her, looming dangerously. 

“Business,” she mocks then scoffs as she stares up at him defiantly, “sure.” 

“Don’t,” he warns as he stands straight, “I paid for you to have a night out. I thought perhaps you might appreciate that. I wonder when you became so spoiled.” 

She pouts and juts out her chin, “Tommy...” she reaches for him as he turns away, tearing his sleeve away from her grasp.

He marches for the door and stop right beside you, “are you alright?” 

“Sir, I was only startled--” 

You wince as he dusts off a piece of glass from your shoulder. 

“Get her home,” he demands, “but not at your own risk. I wouldn’t be so disappointed to hear if she blusters herself into the gutters.” 

He huffs and pulls open the door. You watch him go as Grace devolves into drunken sobs. You hope she doesn’t remember this. You’d rather forget it yourself. 

[konnosaurus]

after all this time working on them, konno finally has humanisations!! just these guys for now but there will indeed be more to come. i've had so much fun with these so i hope that you guys like them :3 they Will be showing up alongside my engine stuff hehe!

i'm gonna stick some design notes under the cut in case anyone is interested!:

thomas:

actually the last of these i designed. as always, i find him Difficult, but i am happy with what i have done :3

the bracelet around his ankle was made by percy- james and percy also have them, just in different places. thomas doesn't like things around his wrists or arms in general (no tight sleeves, either!) so has his on his ankle!

originally the jacket was a non-zipped hoodie but it didn't feel Dynamic enough for him, so i decided to go for the open jacket look. it feels more active- perfect for the cheeky lad himself.

he does know how to tie his laces, he just Cannot Be Bothered.

edward:

this design came the most naturally. i didn't really have to do any second guessing or anything- edward is edward and he just felt like edward to me!

of these seven, he is the only one who wears glasses. he is NOT, however, the only one who needs glasses. gordon, james and emily should heed his advice and get some themselves (they will not.)

originally his trousers were going to be a much darker brown, but the lighter just felt a lot more old-man-comforting which i feel fits his pizazz better.

henry:

henry :3

henry is the sort of person to have a little bag that just contains like,, Anything that one could need in a situation. you require an item? henry has it!

the long skirt was initially alllll the way to the floor, but i wanted to show a bit of boot to make it just,, lightly more practical than a full floor-length one. it is a very swishy skirt.

henry has my favourite face/hair design of them all i just love how poofy the hair is and the little EXPRESSIONNNN!

gordon:

mr professionally dressed!

he wears old man shoes because i can't imagine gordon not wearing old man shoes even though he does not consider himself an old man. someone calls them old man shoes and he goes home and cries.

he's got some Muscle to him- beneath those sleeves he has got the p o w e r. also a bit of chink- not all that much, but he is noticably Wide as well as Tall.

james:

my favourite design for my favourite little lad!

i wanted him to be flashy but not Overly obnoxious- his vest is bright and his jewelry is dramatic but he also has some more muted colours. having a scheme is very important to him- the only thing that breaks it is the friendship bracelet from percy that he has on his wrist.

he has long boots because he would have long boots <3

the red strips in his hair are entirely just because he wants to be more red and more colour coordinated.

percy:

his trousers brush the floor because he is not the tallest and the ones he liked weren't quite the right lengths. so many people he knows could shorten them for him but he actually quite likes them like that.

percy gets freckles just because i wanted him to have them hehehe no other reasoning!

his green is a lot more yellowy and bright than henrys more dull and sappy greens, and his red is a lot deeper than henrys more pinky red.

his bag has his little friendship charm on the buckle. he doesn't wear it as a bracelet like thomas or james do- it stays on his bag because he loves his bag and is never without it.

emily:

despite her engine being a dark green, her main outfit piece (the dungarees) is a lighter green. this is Entirely just because i liked how it looked better.

her boots have detailing meant to be like her great race livery!

emily had one of the easiest outfits for me to design- she just feels like a dungaree sort of gal to me, and i just worked from there! the little gold patterns on her dungaree pocket are meant to reflect the big ol wheel pattern on the stirling single.

and there we have it!

[hellinistical]

more hcs of rafayel with a desi/mena girl cause im in need. and yeah it does lean more towards Muslim girls BUT anyone can read obviously.

He's actually not that great at fasting. At least, not when it becomes something he has to do. The man can be painting all day and not eat but the second it becomes obligatory? Pain.

And he's also not that great in the fact that he can't really go to bed with you, ya know? cause he's gotta stay away from lust.

Brushes his teeth obsessively during Ramadan cause he'd be damned if his breath got rank when he wants to kiss you.

designs your hijabs and abayas, lehengas, dupattas- everything.

he's designed your rings so why not ya know?

I think he'd be really just obsessed with doing your henna even for occasions that are just ordinary. He'd have you guys have matching designs or better yet- connecting ones (where if you lay side by side or put your hands or whatever together the picture all connects.) giggles cause its yalls secret. his name is on you somewhere and yours is on his.

The type to claim to be a picky eater but that's just not the case. at least, for the most part.

He'll eat stuff like mansaf with lamb head or even jadoo—oh, but you can't deny him his seafood.

on eid, or rather, the night before, he cant sleep. he'd be far too excited and try to stay up all night like its a game between you two.

Eid outfits? oh you're KILLING it- no one is even coming close to you guys. he takes it seriously and loves the feeling that he's out done everyone. getting ready on the phone with your cousins and siblings and they're just "oh my god." cause they weren't expecting you to pop off AGAIN.

Somehow finds a way to get the best parking spot at the place the eid prayer gets even though its jam packed. He finds it. probably had thomas hold his place too. There will be no 10+ minutes of walking in your heels and nice clothes dragging on the side walk just to get to the car.

But aside from that, hates how crowded eid prayer gets and even though you wanna go early cause all your friends are going early he'd prefer to go when the last round of it is going. and the fact that itd be easier to find a parking spot.

is he queasy when picking out a lamb or goat? nah. I can see him pretending that he doesn't wanna do the slaughter but he does. picks out the one with the most meat on (and if you like the more fatty pieces makes sure to save those when he takes home the portions you guys want before donating the rest).

when you go to the mosque, he parks closer to the women section so its easier for you. and makes sure to get there early cause ofc he's gotta get a good spot. Always has a water bottle on hand, maybe some makeup wipes and an extra palette- knows how to fix your makeup for you. SUPER fast with it too.

If you wanna rant to him about podcast bros and wannabe tiktok sheikhs he'll gladly join in and help clown them. Cause who is he to let some buffoon, some deranged man (cough based bengali but don't come for me there's more) who graduated at tiktok university try and act like they know everything to upset his wife? He is not the one.

matter of fact hes probably doxed a couple just for the nonsense they say- (or maybe exposed them....)

should i do more

[lowkaylove]

Room for Improvement

Pairings: MC x Xavier, MC x Rafayel, MC x Zayne, MC x Sylus, MC x Caleb

Not beta read

Every LI’s tag list will have the general content warnings plus specific tags that go with their scenario.

18+, MDNI (angsty/dangerous thoughts. Suggestive material, but no graphic smut)

Note: This story is very much cathartic for my own lived experiences in life. I do not want to imply or place the burden of my thoughts and feelings onto you (the reader) so this will not be in the 2nd POV or have uses of “you, Y/N, or reader.” Rather it will be 1st POV as the inner thoughts of MC. I do not mean to offend anybody or trigger any past trauma other people have experienced. I simply mean to put thoughts and feelings into writing as how I’d hope the LADS would be able to comfort me in times of feeling like I’m not enough.

CW: *LOTS OF UNHEALTHY HABITS* *ALLUSIONS TO EATING DISORDERS & GRAPHIC INNER THOUGHTS OF SELF-LOATHING* angst, hurt/comfort, hurting starts now, comfort will come later, MC is insecure/self-conscious, body image issues, MC feeling the need to change/better herself for LI, feelings of inadequacy, feelings of not being enough, feelings of being weak, Rafayel is baby, Thomas totally ships MC and Rafayel, MC is self-sabotaging, MC is straight up delulu in the image of herself, kissing, non-sexual intimacy, Zayne makes an appearance, Sylus is briefly mentioned

*PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING IN THE WARNINGS*

1st Person POV

Prompt: I can’t believe I’m actually in a relationship with the man of my dreams. Congrats to me for bagging a fucking angel of a man! If only the little voice in my ahead would lift my confidence instead of agreeing with some comments made by those who are jealous of our relationship. But no problem, I’ll just have to turn into someone worthy of his time. Change is good, right?

Another note: please be kind, I’m really bad at writing. This took a lot and I wanna try to get better.

Rafayel

“Come on, cutie! We’re gonna be late and you’re the one who’s making me go to this exhibition in the first place! The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave!” Rafayel’s whines echo throughout his house. I can just imagine his signature pout he makes when he’s forced contracted to attend his own art exhibitions.

“I’m almost done, Rafa!” I giggle at his typical apathy towards going to these events. Usually, I would be the one that’s ready to go before him. The Lemurian really shows me up with his own extensive routine to get ready to go out.

But this time is different. I’m not attending as his bodyguard. At least, that’s not the main reason.

Tonight is the first exhibition we will attend after officially becoming a couple. I need to look my best at Rafayel’s side.

There won’t be much fanfare about it (much to Rafayel’s dismay at not being allowed to hard launch his relationship), but it is the first time I will attend in an evening gown arm-in-arm with him rather than in my uniform and walking in his shadow.

The black, long-sleeve evening gown didn’t look too bad on me. The color added a slimming look, giving my frame a curvier look rather than my normal frump, and the fact that the ambiance called for dimmed lighting around the gala gave me courage to go with a backless design. It had a little stretch and give for me to move comfortably and a slit for me to quickly grab my gun in case there was an attack.

It should be good enough right? Besides, this night is for Rafayel. Most people who have seen me attend galas with him as his bodyguard rarely paid attention to me then. I doubt there will be much of a change from the normal looks I get.

As I finish spraying perfume and put on my earrings, I hear a low whistle to my left where the doorway leads to the bedroom. I smile in my reflection at Rafayel’s antics.

“Don’t even think about it, fishie.” I try to remain serious and focused on my task of putting on the last fucking earring, but I can’t help my mind slipping.

Rafayel gasps. “I haven’t even said anything. Cutie, what do you take me for? I am a distinguished Lemurian gentleman.”

I hear a few slow steps before I see Rafayel come up behind me in the mirror. His arms encase me as his lips meet my exposed neck tilted to the side as I am still trying to put on this fucking earring.

I finally get the damn thing secured before straightening my posture.

I revel in his touch. His arms are strong and secure around my waist as he brings me as close as he possibly can. I feel his hot breaths shudder against my skin as he inhales my scent. A low groan sends shivers throughout my body.

“I swear I will go to every exhibition for the rest of the year if you let me cancel on Thomas tonight.” His fingers dig into the fleshy part of my hips, hard enough to leave that lingering feeling throughout the rest of the night.

I scoff in absolute disbelief. “Rafa you’re a terrible liar. You and I both know you’re just going to plot even harder to get out of them if I say yes.”

His brings his left hand up to my upper arm before softly dragging the dress sleeve down to expose my shoulder. Kisses follow the exposed skin as he inhales more of my perfume. “I will make it worth your while my darling.”

I can’t help but lean into his touch, even as I protest. “Rafa, we can’t miss this tonight. Thomas will-”

His kisses cease to look at my reflection. “New rule: The word ‘Thomas’ is banned from leaving your gorgeous lips while I am kissing any part of you.”

I roll my eyes. “Such a dramatic merman.”

His eyes narrow. “Or mayyyyybe I just don’t want the most beautiful woman in my arms uttering the name of another man. My name should be the only one you say while I hold you.”

My face flushes with nerves and embarrassment at his praise. It’s still something I’m not used to. “We should get going. Like you said, the sooner we get there the sooner we can leave.”

Rafayel sighs in exasperation and rests his forehead on my shoulder. “You’re gonna drive me crazy all night. You better not leave my side into the arms of another man.”

“I don’t think anyone will snatch up an opportunity to take me from you.” I giggle in response. It’s a complete miracle that Rafayel has chosen me. Maybe since he’s not human, his tastes are different? Or maybe I’m a part of the taxi cab theory right now. Honestly anything is possible. But I’ll take what I can get and bask in this feeling while I have it.

Rafayel’s grip tightens even more on my hips, nearly to the point of bruising me. He looks back up into our reflection and stands tall. “I will damn sure scare off everybody into trying, but I know they’ll be thinking about stealing you from me. You are absolutely breathtaking, my dear.” He turns me to face him and looks at me with such reverence in his eyes. I seriously don’t understand what he sees, but I can only stay silent at his compliment and give him a little smile, lifting my hand to cup his cheek and give him a soft, chaste kiss.

Pulling away, I can’t help but give him a kiss on the check as well, hopefully reassuring him that his fears will never become reality. “Okay we really need to go before we’re late.” I walk past and grab his arm to drag him with me.

“One whole year of exhibitions and I won’t even complain about it!” This man is impossible. His affinity for the dramatics is always a breath of fresh air.

I laugh while walking out the door. “Not a chance, little fishie!”

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

Idle chatter fills the room as guests mingle around the pieces Rafayel submitted this month.

The dimmed lighting gives off a romantic, yet somber feel with some of the pieces on display. Brighter lighting around his paintings really allow all of the focus to be on each piece. Candles are lit throughout the area and the gallery windows have been left open to hear the crashing waves in the distance.

I nurse a glass of champagne as we walk around the gala. Rafayel explains his inspiration about every piece to me as critics and collectors creep near us, desperate to get his attention. Unfortunately for them, he spares none of them a glance as he continues to maintain his conversation with me, his right hand stuck to my exposed back. The pressure is gentle yet firm on my skin.

I’m actually a bit relieved that we have a little space to ourselves. Due to Rafayel’s dismay at not being allowed to use this event to announce our relationship, he rebelled and tried to enter the gala with the rest of the guests, thus thwarting Thomas’s plan to introduce him properly.

His plan backfires to nobody’s surprise because this literal God can’t be missed if he tried. His ethereal beauty and purple waves are not mistaken for anyone other than the very reason everyone was here tonight.

Expressions of awe and admiration were littered across almost everyone in attendance. Those whose gaze waver from Rafayel to me transformed to haughty indifference at best and downright disdain and envy at worst.

I felt naked all of a sudden. It’s like everyone could see all of my flaws and they were brimming with anticipation to point them out to everyone. Including my boyfriend.

Rafayel hasn’t even seen all of me yet. I’ve been putting off that next step in the relationship for weeks for fear he would look at me with the very same expression most of the women - and about half of the men - were giving me.

I refocus on Rafayel’s words as he continues with sharing everything he can about his paintings to me. I shouldn’t be thinking about those insecurities right now. Tonight’s attention is for Rafayel, not my flaws that will inevitably cause the downfall of his affection for me.

“This piece was actually inspired by the time we crashed the bicycle together. I remember the blush on your cheeks with dirt smudged all over and couldn’t get it out of my head.” He laughs at the memory.

I laugh in response as I look around us before my gaze locks to my right.

I notice Thomas walking towards us with frustration in his eyes and halt my movements. Rafayel doesn’t notice I’ve stopped until two steps later he bumps into my side and his hand on my back meets resistance. His eyes meet my face in confusion. “Cutie?”

“Incoming.” I warn as Thomas gets closer.

In my periphery, I see his gaze follow the direction of mine and his body tenses against me.

“Rafayel. You need to speak to the guests here. They came to see you. Show a little gratitude towards the buyers if you plan on selling any of these.” Thomas goes through his usual spiel in getting Rafayel to mingle with people he doesn’t care for.

“I’m here aren’t I? The old farts should be grateful I allow them to be this close to me.” Rafayel hisses the words through his teeth.

Afraid these two will cause a scene and attract the wrong attention towards Rafayel, I turn to face the Lemurian and placed a calming hand over his arm.

“Rafa, I actually need to go to the bathroom to freshen up. I’ll be a few minutes, so this will give you some time to talk with some buyers.” My eyes plead with him to just go with what Thomas is asking.

He looks betrayed almost, but sighs in resignation. “Only a few minutes okay? Then we can go home?” And cue the puppy dog eyes begging me to go along with his plan.

“Rafayel, that’s not enough time for the people -” Thomas begins, but is immediately cut off.

“Why don’t you go and gather a small handful of people who I’ve tolerated before, hmm? Anymore than that and I’ll set fire to all of my works.” Rafayel is tense as he grips my hand in a last attempt to not leave him.

Thomas gives up, sighs, and walks away.

“Rafa, my darling, I will be as quick as I can. I promise I’m not leaving you.” I rest my free hand over his heart where I know the bond mark is. A small tremor is felt as he places his hand over mine. After a few calming breaths, he takes my hand and moves it up to cup his cheek, turning his face to kiss the center of my palm.

“One minute and then we leave these idiots.” Oh dear, negotiations are impossible with this man.

I giggle at his never-ending dramatics. “Rafa I can’t promise that. It’ll probably be a little longer than that. I need to make sure everything is in its place. Can’t have your girlfriend embarrass you in front of all these esteemed guests now can we?”

He scoffs. “Puhhlease. More like groveling peasants who validate themselves by throwing their money in every direction and spitting on people who aren’t them. You are a goddess among mere mortals here. Don’t even spare them another thought.”

“Rafa be nice.” I raise my eyebrows at his harsh choice of words.

“I. Don’t. Care. About. Them.” His eyes are steeled with vitriol as his right hand applied more pressure to the small of my back, closing the distance between us a little.

My thumb softly rubs his cheek back and forth to calm him down. “Rafa, I’ll come right back to you. I always do, right?” His eyes soften at my words and he nods after a beat of silence.

I take one step back from him and he reluctantly lets me go. “5 minutes.” I whisper before turning to head to the bathroom.

Reaching the bathroom, I make my way into a stall to take a breath in private. I could feel myself sweating a bit under everyone’s stares.

Just before I gather myself and head out to check everything in the mirror, a fit of giggles enter the bathroom.

“Oh my god did you see her dress?! She has to be soooooo confident in herself to wear something like that.”

I pause, my gut stopping me from potentially embarrassing myself if these women are talking about me.

I decide to wait just a bit longer. Maybe it’s not me, even though I loathe the idea of anyone being talked about this way.

No such luck though.

“I know, the bravery to show off all of those rolls on her back and embarrass Rafayel.” My heart drops at the other girl’s words.

“He had to have hired her out of pity right? I mean, with her physique she doesn’t look like she has the reflexes to guard anything except a buffet table.” Their giggles turn shrill as tears form in my eyes. I can’t face them. I can’t let them see me cry.

“That’s probably where she just went. And now that we have an opening to catch him…” I hear silence in the bathroom except for some shifting of fabric. “How do I look? Are my boobs propped up all the way?”

I’m going to vomit.

“Oh totally girl. You’ll catch him for sure. And once you’ve got him, you can kick that whale’s ass on the street and away from your man.” Their giggles fade as they walk out of the bathroom.

I’m on autopilot as I check to make sure they’re gone before walking to the mirror.

I twist my body to find all of the rolls those girls noticed. I don’t know why I thought I had curves to show in this dress. That illusion faded as I realize I’ve made a grave mistake in wearing this dress and embarrassing Rafayel.

I need to get out of here.

I dry my tears and try to gather my wits just long enough to get through the next five minutes before I leave. I’ll just make up an excuse that I’m feeling sick and should go to my apartment so I don’t get Rafayel sick.

I open the bathroom door and walk around before finally spotting my boyfriend across the room.

And two women along with a small group of men, most likely the buyers.

They were gorgeous. One would think they were models with their dresses fitted to their figures like a second skin and not an ounce of fat to be seen. The one with obvious cleavage must be the woman trying to take him home tonight.

I’m not sure what to do. Her beauty obviously compliments his in ways I never could. I don’t have the guts to go up to him and look them in the eyes. But I don’t think my heart could handle leaving him without saying anything.

Big Tits places her hand on his arm and gives him a radiant smile, leaning in closer to no doubt shower Rafayel with praise and lure him in like a siren does a sailor.

Rafayel clearly looks down at her hand with confusion and something else, but doesn’t remove her hand. He just takes a step back and smiles politely.

I know that Rafayel is a gentleman and takes pride in holding himself in a higher regard than human men. But I can’t help but think that he deserves someone that compliments him. Maybe being out in public with me will only garner negative attention for him. Beautiful people should surround themselves with other beautiful people.

Disheartened, I turn and walk in the opposite direction to the bar and ask for some water. Just as the bartender places the glass in front of me, I hear someone say my name rather close behind me.

Thomas slides up right next to me and orders a water for himself. I manage a smile as best I can for him. “Thomas, I’m so sorry for causing a problem. If I had known he wouldn’t speak to anyone because of me, I would’ve done a better job of keeping my distance from him and the buyers.”

The bartender slides a glass in front of Thomas who takes it and turns to lean against the bar. He has an exasperated, yet slightly unbothered look on his face as he looks across the gallery. “Rafayel has always been this way, even before he met you. Trust me you were never the problem here.” Thomas gives me a sideways glance and smirks.

“I can’t say I’ve ever had a truly easy time since working for him. But ever since you’ve become a part of his life, his hunger for anything this world can offer him has reflected in his work in a way I never thought would happen. It’s just a matter of getting him to actually finish the paintings and sell them.” I can tell that, despite how exhausted I’m sure it is for Thomas to work for Rafayel, his respect for his boss is very apparent. Although I’m not so sure about what Thomas is implying.

I give him a nervous laugh to shoo away his words about my supposed influence on Rafayel. “Oh, I’m sure a genius like Rafayel gets so much inspiration and fulfillment from all things around him. You can’t possibly think that I-”

“You have no idea, do you?” Thomas’s words cut me off and his expression becomes sharp and discerning. His fingers tighten around his drink. Worried I offended him or Rafayel, I try to rectify my words.

“I don’t know what you mean, Thomas. I just-” And I’m cut off again.

“People from all over the world spend fortunes to travel in hopes of a miracle that Rafayel will give them a direct wave or smile in their direction. People throw themselves at him all the time, promising their everlasting devotion to a creative genius like him. There are some that have received a glare from Rafayel and took it as a sign to take a chance for more.

“You have never had to work a day in your life for Rafayel’s affections. He gives himself to you freely and without any doubts or reservations. I’d even go as far to say he gives you too much of himself and overwhelms you at times. You challenge him like nobody else can. You keep up with his dramatics without letting him take advantage of you. You’re clearly stunning and keep him on his toes. Obviously you’re his muse that inspired all of these paintings-” I can’t take anymore of this.

“I don’t think me doing the bare minimum and treating him with common courtesy and decency constitutes as being his muse. He deserves to be treated with kindness and compassion.” And all of that is true. Even if it weren’t by me, he deserves to be treated like a person and not some prize to win over. I’m just the lucky rookie hunter who’s here for him now. And if he finds someone better, I’ll be whatever else he needs me to be. That’s just how lovesick and pathetic I am.

Thomas gives me another discerning sideways glance. “I agree. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever known. His genius is unlike any other and, contrary to how exhausting it can be to work for him, I’ve never regretted choosing to be his manager.”

As we are speaking, I maintain my gaze on Rafayel from afar. Big Tits is till with him, smiling up at him and pushing out her cleavage in a very unassuming way. Kudos to her for that sly move. Rafayel barely seems to notice so it looks like her subtlety is working on him.

I look down at my figure briefly, plucking at my dress so the rolls and flabby areas are concealed under the little wrinkles. Since I haven’t eaten anything tonight, I can suck in my stomach without any bloating issues.

I stand up straight and feign confidence, hoping that the stretch in making myself taller has smoothed out any protruding areas.

“Do not pay them any mind.” Thomas speaks up again, jolting me out of my inner thoughts.

I lift a brow in confusion. Did he mean my rolls? Are they clearly still showing?

“Clarice has vied for Rafayel’s affections for months now.” Oh, he was talking about her. I remain still and calm, like water, so as to not give away my thoughts about her taking Rafayel away from me.

Thomas continues. “Her father is a regular buyer and sometimes sends her in his stead. His health has been declining so he can’t make the trips to exhibitions anymore. She is your typical heiress to an empire and has never been told ‘no’ in her life. That is, until Rafayel declined her efforts to romantically pursue him about 2 years go.” His eyes are fixed on Big Tits — Clarice — who is speaking animatedly with Rafayel and men I also do not recognize.

I stay silent after Thomas’s reassuring explanation for me. He probably saw me spiraling and is trying to console me to get myself together. Can’t have the woman that came with Rafayel make a spectacle of herself.

“Clarice…a beautiful name for a beautiful woman…” Water. I am a pool of water. Cool, calm, and collected.

Thomas lets out a scoff. “Don’t be fooled, dear. She paid for her good looks. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, per se. However, she likes to use her powers for evil. She’s more like a witch who disguises herself to lure victims to their demise.”

Clarice points to Rafayel’s empty champagne flute and heads to the bar near them, no doubt getting him another drink to schmooze him.

The handful of men stay behind and chat with Rafayel. I see them shuffle even closer to Rafayel as if to whisper a secret. They look like they’re offering something to him. Rafayel’s expression turns stunned, then dark. Offended.

“Oh dear gods, Rafayel, please don’t kill them.” Thomas sighs as if he’s had to deal with this before.

Rafayel places his hand on one of the men’s shoulder and leans in close to whisper something to those gathered around him. With his angelic smile plastered on his face, Rafayel’s lips move as if countering their offer. But the men’s faces turn ashen…and horrified.

And just as Big Tits - Clarice - comes back with a new glass of champagne to offer to Raf, he turns to look in all different directions before finding me across the way and leaning against the bar.

Completely ignoring Big Tits - Clarice - Rafayel’s eyes light up in relief as he makes his way over to me, leaving his victims behind without a care in the world.

I can only force a small smile and give him a pathetic wave as he closes the distance between us. My eyes briefly shift to see the witch (fuck her, I don’t care about her name anymore) turn her nose up at me with a look of disgust. The friend does the same before whispering in her ear and they giggle to each other.

“Cutie! Why didn’t you come get me sooner? It’s been over ten minutes, by the way! Jellyfish are walking around naked and I’m dying to get out of here. Ready to go home?” My attention is back on Rafayel as he reaches me and immediately takes my hand in his. His aura is lighter now that he’s reached me. The murderous look he used for those men has completely vanished.

“Rafayel, what did you say to them? Are the buyers interested in any works tonight?” Thomas interrupts Rafayel to bring the attention back to the group of men who still seem rattled but whatever he said to them. Rafayel, however, was too busy trying to get us out of there. I guess I don’t need to convince him to let me leave early.

“Rafayel, what the hell happened with those buyers?” Thomas catches up and grabs Rafayel’s elbow.

Rafayel stops in his tracks and turns to Thomas. “Those insufferable cockroaches are never allowed at any of my exhibitions again. You would do well to find better options worthy of owning my paintings.” Rafayel turns and is dragging me again towards the exit.

“Let’s go home, my darling. I need a nice soothing bath to cleanse myself of all this stuffiness.” His grip on my hand tightens. It feels as if he’s afraid I’ll let go, but he would be more likely to leave me behind…right?

I hesitate in my steps. “Are you sure? You don’t…want to stay and get to know anybody here? Don’t you still want to sell some of your works?”

“Eugh, no. We should’ve left five minutes ago. I’m ready to blow this popsicle stand.” Rafayel tugs me along through the building. The crowd makes way for him to walk through.

“But…if those men aren’t going to buy anything, shouldn’t you stay to schmooze some of the other guests?” I realize how pathetic I am in trying to give him an opportunity to stay. Jeez I’m acting like a wingman to my own boyfriend.

“I changed my mind. None of the paintings are for sale tonight.” Rafayel’s hand tightens around mine even more as we leave the building, Thomas’s protests continue in the background, but Rafayel doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.

“But why? I thought-” I don’t get a chance to finish though.

“Those idiots thought they could insult me. They thought they could insult y-” Rafayel stops his words short, but the anger that remained served as a warning that I shouldn’t press him to finish his sentence. When we make it to the car, he stops before my door and turns to me.

The anger from earlier has dissipated from the air around us. “Don’t worry about it, cutie. They don’t matter. Let’s go home, yeah? I need a bath.” His hands come up to cup my face and brings me closer to kiss my temple.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Rafa? Is there anything I can do to help?”

A glint of mischief reaches his eyes. “Welllll you could always join me in the bath?”

Panic grips my heart. No. I’m not ready for him to see me yet… “Oh, actually I-“

Rafayel stops me. “Okay I know what you’re thinking. I know I take a lot of really loooooong baths and you’re probably tired. But just hear me out: I can open the windows that lead to the ocean and we can just relax. I can light some candles and put something on the vinyl player. Very romantic if I say so myself. What do ya say?” He’s worried about me being too tired to bathe with him? His pleasing eyes are fucking killing me. I don’t know how I can say “no” to him.

Oh wait, yes I do. Because the minute he sees me completely uncovered is the minute I’ll lose him. That woman was right about me. Beautiful people deserve beautiful things.

I am water…cool, calm, and collected. I just have to get out of this.

“Actually, Rafa, I think I’m coming down with something. The open windows probably brought something in the air. I don’t want to get you sick…maybe I should go home for a couple days and make sure it’s nothing contagious.”

pleasebelievemepleasebelievemepleasebelieveme

His eyes fall in disappointment before worry replaces it. One hand leaves my cheek to feel my forehead. “You do feel a little flushed. Are you sure you want to go home? I can cook and take care of you if you wanna stay with me.”

I give him a small smile. Thank god he fell for it. “I’m sure Rafa. I would feel so guilty if I got you sick. Hopefully it won’t be too long. I’ll keep you updated okay?”

He’s clearly sad but nods in understanding. “Okay my darling. Let me take you home.”

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

A Week Later

Ma Petit Fishie: Are you feeling any better? Want me to bring some soup to you?

Me: I just placed an order for some soup. It’s not too bad today. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m over this cold.

I feel awful for lying to Rafayel. But this is for the best. I’m sure once my plan works and shows results fast enough, he’ll be so happy with how I look and that we can move forward in our relationship and be seen in public together without any doubts of me belonging with Rafayel.

I put my phone away as I continue my workout. Luckily this gym is reserved for employees at the Hunter’s Association only so there’s no chance of running into him.

I’ve been coming to the gym around nighttime since there’s typically not a whole of people here around this time. The less people to interact with the better.

I was hoping for something a little more fast-acting, but I can’t afford cosmetic surgery and Zayne wouldn’t prescribe me anything to help with weight loss.

I was able to get an appointment with him the day after the exhibition, but I couldn’t get what I was looking for.

Zayne just looked at me with calculating eyes before jotting down some notes. “Why are you asking me for this? Your weight is within the range of healthy for your protocore syndrome.”

That’s gotta be the biggest lie. Barely hanging on the larger side of a 60 pound range is laughable.

“No major reason, I just wanted to see if there was something that could shave off fat so that I could build muscle easier.” Jeez I hate that the lies are falling off of my tongue so easily. As long as I can look at his face, but not his eyes, this could be successful.

“There is nothing on the market that would pair safely with your heart condition.” Zayne leans back in his chair and narrows is eyes. “Are you sure there is no other reason?”

I shake my head with an innocent look. “No other reason. I just wanted to get stronger for large-scale missions.”

“I can refer you to a dietician that can create a meal plan, but I do not feel comfortable prescribing fast-acting drugs that have more negative side effects than the positive results you’re looking for.” Zayne types something on his computer before printing a sheet. “You can take this to suite 200 of the office building and she’ll help you.”

I take the sheet with a grateful smile and absolutely no intention of using this referral. Back to the original plan. I need to hurry before Rafayel gets bored of me for taking too long to move forward or disgusted with how I look now.

“Thank you, Dr. Zayne!” I rushed out of his office before heading to my apartment to finalize my original plan.

That was a week ago and I think I’ve got a solid plan.

I’ll play sick for a couple more days. Luckily Thomas has Rafayel extremely busy since he didn’t sell any of the pieces from last week.

I also volunteered for more rigorous missions to put my body to the test.

I also found a lot of tips and tricks. Water is my new best friend.

I jump off the treadmill to refill my water bottle and head to the weight station.

I continue pushing myself until the lightness I feel starts to make me a little wobbly. Then I refill my water again and head home.

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

“Cutie! I missed you so much you have no idea! Please tell Thomas to go away! He’s been so cruel to me and I want some time alone with you!” Ever the drama queen, Rafayel gives me the biggest puppy-dog eyes to plead his case.

It’s only been a week or so. I extended my absence from him as much as possible and played it off as lingering symptoms that could still be contagious. Gods I missed him. But I’ve been trying my best to get the plan moving.

Looking at him now, I pray my efforts work so I can keep him.

For now, I’ll enjoy hanging out with him today.

“I’ll see what I can do, Rafa.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek.

His arms wrap around me and pull me close, his face nuzzling my neck. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I missed you. I can’t tell you how many times I-”

His arms tighten and loosen around me before his hands rub up and down my back. His hands linger on my hips and waist as they roam my figure.

It becomes too much as I realize he might be able to feel my shape through my clothes. I quickly step back, panic beginning to settle in. “Rafayel, what-?”

“Have you lost weight? Did you eat anything while you were sick?” His stance is intimidating as is eyes roam up and down my body. While the hoodies and sweatpants should make it difficult, it definitely feels like Rafayel can see through the baggy clothes and pick out the flawed areas of my body.

“Oh um…I highly doubt I’ve lost weight. It was just hard to keep certain foods down so my appetite was lost for a bit.” Lie.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve brought you some easy foods to help you.” At the mention of eating, I picked at my jacket to peel it away from clinging to my frame.

“It was nothing, my darling. I’m feeling better now and I actually feel good. I’m surprisingly very energized today.” Lie, but I give him my best smile to reassure him.

He doesn’t seem convinced until he smiles as well. Phew. “Well, as long as you’re feeling better. Are you hungry now? I was actually wanting to try this new Italian place. Wanna go there for lunch?”

Italian. Carbs. Absolutely not. “Oh Rafa, I’m so sorry. I already ate lunch today. I had some leftover soup that I needed to finish.” Lie.

His face falls. Fuck I hate disappointing him right now. But it’ll all be worth it in the end.

“Oh…yeah you should probably stick with easier meals since you were recently sick. How about dinner with me tonight? We can order in so it’s just the two of us” Dammit, I can’t say no to those eyes. And I can’t decline food twice or else he’ll catch on.

“I suppose we could have dinner…as long as it’s light and small.”

And he lights up again. I don’t know who cursed Rafayel to date me, but I’ll be forever grateful for these moments.

“Perfect! I know just the spot to order from! And while you’re here we can have a day in all to ourselves. Whatever you wanna do, cutie.” He winks at me playfully.

I giggle at him before playfully smacking his chest. “Okay little fishie, lemme see what I can do about Thomas.”

“My hero.” He brings one hand to his heart and the other to his forehead as if a damsel is about to faint.

God I love my little fishie.

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

After I successfully convince Thomas to leave the house, I walk back to the living room where Rafayel is sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone.

“Mission accomplished. Thomas has agreed to give you a break for the next couple of days.”

“You, my darling, are a blessing. I don’t know how I was able to survive without you for so many years.” His words are teasing, but his eyes hold something deeper. I can’t exactly pinpoint what, but something about it nags at my brain.

Letting go of that thought before it gives me a headache, I sit down next to Rafayel, making sure to keep a little space between us. Rafayel throws that plan out the window and pulls me close to him.

My body tenses slightly as I feel him wrap his arm around me. “Okay cutie, what did you want to do today? We could watch a movie, go for a swim in the pool, or even go to the beach!”

Fuck, I knew he wanted to go to the beach. Of course he does. It’s his home where he’s the most comfortable.

“I wouldn’t…mind any of those options. I just don’t think I should do anything too strenuous like swimming right now. But I’m more than happy to sit on the beach and relax while you swim. I also don’t have a bathing suit with me today.”

His shoulders droop a little in disappointment, but shakes it off and shrugs in nonchalance. “It’s okay cutie. We can always go another time. How about we take it easy before dinner?” Rafayel’s hand is too close to my stomach.

I try to keep myself in check. “That sounds good, Rafa. Did you just want to lounge around and watch some movies?”

His hand gently caresses my waist over the hoodie. “Yeah we can do that. Let me just clean up the paints around here and-” He moves to stand up from the sofa but stops and turns to me. A devious smile matches the light in his eyes. Oh no…I’ve seen that look on his face and right now he has something crazy in mind.

“Orrrrrrr what if you let me paint you? You are my muse after all, cutie. I’m sure I could have a masterpiece done around dinner time.” His eyes are eager and hopeful. I would even go as far to say he looks crazed at the opportunity.

Yep, definitely crazy. No way is that ever happening.

I immediately curl in on myself a bit. “Rafa I’m not…I don’t think I have the capacity to sit still that long. Also…wouldn’t a professional model be more suited for an artist of your caliber?”

Rafayel looks at me with confusion and determination. His hands clasp over mine. “Nonsense! You would be a perfect model. There’s nobody else I would want to immortalize on a canvas.” He gives me a reassuring smile while running his thumb back and forth over my hands.

“Immortalize?” I can’t fathom a world where Rafayel paints how I look now and being proud of it. He would most likely be unhappy with the outcome and wonder what he did wrong before realizing that it’s not a matter of skill issue, but it’s just the way I look.

“Well yeah. It would be just for us. I would never allow anyone to own something as precious as a painting of you.”

“Rafa, I don’t think-”

“I mean, I already have countless drawings of you in multiple sketchbooks, but I’ve always wanted to paint you.” My blood turns cold. He has drawings of me? More than one? But why?

“You have drawings?” I feign light curiosity. “Can I see them?” I need to know what he sees. I know it’ll hurt, but maybe these sketches will show me the areas he notices that I will make sure to fix.

Rafayel in his excitement doesn’t notice my inner panic. He practically skips over to where he keeps his workbooks and paintbrushes. He grabs a handful of sketchbooks and brings them over flipping through one of them until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Here. There’s a couple more after that, too! See? You’re the perfect model for me, my darling. And these were all done by memory! Imagine the masterpieces I could create with you right here in front of me to capture everything.” Rafayel hands me the book and it is not what I was expecting.

The first one is a portrait of the face. The girl is beautiful when she smiles. I can clearly tell he poured himself into the finer details.

The problem was that this wasn’t me. It’s supposed to be me, but this isn’t what I look like. I can clearly tell what he meant when he said they were done by memory due to the obvious differences. This must be what Rafayel wants me to be. This is what he envisions compared to the real thing.

I flip the page and it’s a full body image. The girl walking along the shore and reaching for something beyond the page. She is also beautiful, but she isn’t who I am right now.

My heart breaks knowing that I am nowhere near this version of me.

But I can work with this. I can become this. At least I can visualize the goal now.

I run my fingers down the page. “She’s beautiful.”

I feel a finger lift my chin to look into the most beautiful eyes. “You are.” Rafayel whispers.

I let out a nervous giggle. “Stop, Rafa. I’m not-”

“Don’t. Do not finish that sentence.” His pinkish-blue eyes harden with his warning and I can see a flicker of the stormy blue they become when the Sea God makes an appearance. Just a flash, then they’re back to their normal shade.

I don’t want to argue, so I can only silently nod. “May I keep these two sketches? Please?”

“Of course…you can have anything you wish.”

All I want is him…

“You could command anything of me. A thousand sketches? Done. A million paintings dedicated to you? Say the word. You already have my heart.” Before I have anytime to register his words, Rafayel leans in to kiss me and I can’t help but lean into it. Who knows when it’ll be the last time. I need to make the most of these moments.

His finger remains under my chin, holding me in place. The slightest pressure from his other hand on my back is all he needs to apply as I lose myself in the feel of his lips on mine.

We stay like that for a few minutes before I reluctantly pull away. The guilt eats at me. I know I should give him more. Rafayel deserves the best kind of love in this world and all the intimate expressions it comes with.

But the best kind of love is not something I can give him right now. Because that love is free of disgust and shame and embarrassment.

His breath is shaky and his lips tremble against mine. “I could kiss you for an eternity and not notice the time pass.” The hand on my back twitches in excitement, but does not apply more pressure. Ever the gentleman, Rafayel doesn’t push past the invisible line I have drawn between us.

I don’t think I will ever understand how this beautiful Lemurian can shower me with such devotion. To even be allowed a smile is a blessing in itself.

Overwhelmed by the desire laced in his voice, I giggle and attempt to divert the attention from me. “I feel like you would eventually get tired of it after…oh I would say 24 hours, little fishie. You’d at least need to rest and replenish your oxygen levels.”

His body stills and he leans back to fully look at me. His entire demeanor changes and I wonder what I said to make him look so…insulted? No that’s not it. Challenged is more like it.

His pupils dilate, the pink and blue melting into a stormy violet. “Did you forget that I am a Lemurian, my darling? We have no need for something as trivial as stopping for air. At least…not for a long, long time.”

“Oh…” Oh? That’s all i can come up with? Why am I so lame?

“In fact, if I were to take you out to the sea right now, one kiss would let you breathe underwater like me. Then…you would have no need for oxygen as well. There would be no limit as to what we could do for hours and hours.” Rafayel’s gaze trails from my eyes to my lips and even further down before landing back on my eyes. I self-consciously move to cover myself more and shield my body from his scrutiny.

Conflict pulls at me from both ends. On one hand, my body is responding to his words. I feel my thighs clench together as desire sets my nerves on fire. On the other hand, I know I’m nowhere near the standard of feeling worthy enough to take that next step with Rafayel.

My focus clouds, thinking of all the possible ways things could go wrong if I give in now based on the hope that he would still want me.

Even in the worst-case scenario, I know Rafayel would be a gentleman. He would gracefully help me get redressed, reassuring that someone is out there for me, but I’m just not the girl for him. He would then either call me a taxi or leave his own house to give me time to collect myself and leave on my own terms. I would most likely be fired as his bodyguard to save him from the awkwardness.

Maybe after some time we could still be friends and my personality would be enough for him to want to be near me.

But if I could just buy myself some time, maybe I can turn myself into those drawings he made.

“…tie? Cutie?”

I snap out of my reverie to find Rafayel extremely close to my face. The storm in his eyes has faded to the normal pink and blue again. But they’re filled with worry this time.

“Oh, Rafa. I uh…I’m sorry I’m just…not used to um…I mean I haven’t-” Gods I can’t seem to pull myself together. I wring my hands together in anxiety.

Why does this have to happen now? Why can’t I stop thinking about the worst that could happen? Rafayel doesn’t deserve to be thought of in this light. He has done nothing to warrant the doubts I have placed on us. He deserves someone who can trust his intentions. He deserves someone who will enjoy this relationship. He deserves someone who can be present in the fucking relationship and this moment with him.

He deserves better than me.

Fuck it’s starting all over again.

My breaths quicken as a torrent of emotions swirl in my head. I need to find a way to fix myself faster. Maybe I can ask Sylus for a favor. He might know somebody who can get me something on the market in the N109 zone.

Or maybe I can just get off my lazy ass and work harder. Maybe if I can keep up with the plan for the next few months, Rafayel will notice some results. I just need to keep him occupied and entertained so he doesn’t get bored with me in the meantime.

In the few minutes I have these thoughts, I barely notice Rafayel trying to get my attention.

A wave of his hand in front of me and his evol quickly produces a flame that shakes me out of the trance I was in.

I gasp sharply at the sudden burst of light the flame emits. My senses focus on my surroundings and I feel a grip on my shoulder.

With a flick of his wrist, the flame extinguishes and I can now hear Rafayel over my breathing.

“Cutie, just breathe, okay? Hey, look at me. Look at me.” His hands hold my face, his grip reassuring yet firm. He guides my face so that I’m looking directly at him.

“There you are. You’re okay. Just breathe, baby. No need to get yourself worked up. I was only teasing, okay? I would never pressure you into anything you weren’t ready for.” His gaze remains on me. One hand leaves my face to take my hand and place it over his heart. “Focus on me, yeah?” He slowly takes a deep inhale, then exhales. I steady my breathing to match my heart rate to his.

Once I’ve calmed down, I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes, too embarrassed to maintain his gaze. “I’m…sorry, Rafa. I don’t know…what came…over me.”

Rafayel keeps my hand over his heart while the other trails from my cheek to the back of my head. He runs his fingers through my hair, the sensation keeping me calm.

“Don’t apologize, cutie. You have nothing to be sorry for. I didn’t mean to make you anxious. It was all harmless teasing I swear.” Rafayel makes no indication for us to move, his hold on me is unwavering in its mission to keep me grounded.

After a few minutes though, the adrenaline from the panic attack wears off, and I become aware of the fact that my body is still trembling, as well as covered in a sheen of sweat.

Then I feel Rafayel’s hand running up and down my back in soothing circles. His head lays on top of mine as he hums a tune, slightly swaying us in a rocking motion. I wonder if it’s a Lemurian song.

I can’t help but want to fall asleep in his arms, lost in the daydream where Rafayel doesn’t mind settling for who I am now.

And the shield surrounding that dream once my skin prickles and instantly becomes hyper aware of the fact that Rafayel’s hands have been roaming over my lumpy form.

If I play it cool, we can both pretend he’s touching the wrinkles in the hoodie. I just need to leave his embrace, however difficult that task is right now. I never want to leave the safety of his arms.

I twitch my hands a little and wiggle my body a bit to hopefully indicate to him I need to move. However, his hold tightens even more around me.

“Rafa, I need to-”

“Don’t. Just-just stay here for a while longer. Please.” He whispers into my hair so softly. His lips kiss the crown of my head as he continues to hum.

I can only pray he doesn’t notice what he’s actually touching. I pray he has mercy on me if he does.

“Okay…just a bit longer.” I whisper, too afraid my voice will break if I speak any louder.

We stay like that for a couple minutes (even if my anxiety made it feel longer). Rafayel stops humming and gives me another kiss to my head. His hand lets go of mine to join the other one to hold my waist. His fingers add pressure to the tense areas of my hips and lower back.

“So soft…” Rafayel whispers in awe.

I giggle. “You can borrow it anytime if you want. But this is my favorite hoodie so please don’t lose it.”

He pulls back to look at me in total confusion. “What are you talking about?”

It’s my turn to be confused now. “Uh, the same thing you’re talking about…my hoodie? You said it was soft.” I giggle nervously. “Does my poor fishie have the memory of a goldfish? It was only a few seconds ago.”

Rafayel shakes his head in disbelief. “Silly girl, I was talking about you. You’re so soft and warm. I would squish and snuggle up to you 24/7 if I could.” He resumes his previous position and grabs my hips in demonstration. He lays his head over mine again and continues to squeeze bits of me up along my torso making his way to just below my breasts.

It feels like cold water is thrown over me. My body tenses in response to his ministrations.

Squish me? Why would he say that?

Maybe this is his subtle way of letting me know he’s always known how I actually look. And the areas he’s paying attention to with his hands are the areas he wants me to fix.

If him touching me everywhere is any indication, then I have a lot of work to do.

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

Note: Whoa boy that was a lot. I hope y’all don’t mind the angst and inner turmoil in this story. I have different scenarios for each LI that I will be writing.

Let me know what y’all think!

[searchforahero]

they should make a duke thomas movie.

lots of nonsensical rambling under the cut. please tell me your duke movie thoughts also i will love you forever

i think a WAR movie would be really fun in general i would love that but i don't think it should be a direct adaptation that's boring. same premise/themes but changed to be something new. not going to fancast because i don't know any actors (i had to look up who ryan reynolds was today) but please feel free to in the reblogs or comments or my inbox :]

i think maybe they should curb alfred's involvement? i like that as an aspect of a larger story being written over the course of many years, but for a single movie i think that might just muddy the water. i think the focus should be more on the robins themselves and it should be something they come together to do on their own with shug-r as the ring-leader.

obviously you would have to alter the character's motivations for joining without alfred in the mix, but i wont go over all that right now. in duke's case i think he should already be friends with riko, who is in turn friends with shug-r. riko & shug-r really need members so riko convinces duke to help just by gathering information and resources and watching out for tips and stuff at first. in exchange the robins have been instructed to keep an eye out for duke's parents (i also think the joker stuff would probably have to be altered a bit to fit a movies run-time but i'm not sure how).

the movie i think would mainly focus on the development of the robins and duke's search for his parents, but would also culminate in a robin war inspired battle. to tie the bats in to make the robin war stuff make sense i think damian should take a sort of hardline stance against them from the beginning and proves as an obstacle for them in some instances, until things culminate in him and duke teaming up to take down the court of owls (if the movie still used them...? idk. maybe duke's parents could be kidnapped instead of missing in some sort of conspiracy and damian is working on taking the whole operation down...? or maybe the movie could be less focused on a robin war sort of thing and instead the big bad is smiley and leave out the other bats altogether... hrm...).

other things i would love to see in this sort of thing:

-the batgirls looking out for riko throughout the movie because thats fun

-costume design scene <3

-the damian and duke scene where they talk about seeing a movie. this is the only part of the comics that needs to be directly translated.

-LESLIE!!!!

[leighsartworks216]

Fine Arts

Rafayel x gn!graphic designer!Reader

This is the last one!!! THank goD!!

Warnings: pre-relationship, banter, bickering, if this was a full series it would be enemies to lovers

Word Count: 925

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

This meeting, compared to the other clientele you've dealt with over your career, was going well. The manager was taking over discussions of appearance, providing wants and desires, styles and color palettes, while the real client was pouting and making snide remarks with very unhelpful feedback.

So, really well. At least the manager was actually listening to you.

"If you want the exhibition to feel high class, I'd recommend a script or serif font. Sans serifs can work sometimes, but they have different connotations." You write down a few notes to yourself in your sketchbook.

Rafayel scoffs. "Art shouldn't be limited to the elite. My works are for everyone to view, not just the people on top with the deepest pockets."

You offer him a placating smile. "I understand what you mean, Mr. Rafayel, but given the area the gallery is in and the fame of your works, it may be better to appeal to the elites that are more likely to come and spend their money." You tilt your head, adding, "Though, if you'd like to broaden your audience to appeal to the layman, I'd be happy to create a few versions from that angle."

Thomas sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's had this conversation a thousand times before. Given his client, maybe he has. "It's a charity event, Rafayel. We want buyers who will spend a lot of money for your work to benefit the charity. Normal people aren't our audience here."

"The charity benefits 'normal people', doesn't it? Why are they suddenly being excluded out of this?"

"If someone is willing to spend more, more money can be donated to the charity. It's not that hard to understand!"

"But they should still feel welcome to visit the gallery, even if they don't have the funds to buy anything."

You clear your throat. The men look at you. Rafayel stares at you like he wants you to burst into flames. "Rafayel's name will draw enough attention from the art world to attract buyers willing to spend big money. If you want the event itself to be seen by normal people, design for the normal person. Besides, a normal person will be more interested in the design of the promotional material than an elite just buying the work for their wall."

Rafayel looks at Thomas. The manager taps his fingers impatiently on the table, before sighing. "Fine. Elegant, but welcoming. You can manage that, right?"

You smile thinly at him. "Of course."

He sighs again, nodding. He checks his watch. "This meeting's run over. Contact me when you have drafts drawn up. I'll send you the info," he rambles off as his chair scrapes against the floor and he stands. He leaves with little else to say aside from a brief 'have a nice day'.

You make a few more notes in your sketchbook, crossing out the older notes you don't need anymore. Rafayel sighs heavily from the end of the table.

"You got what you needed. Are you gonna leave now?"

"Mhm. I just wanted to know if I could see the centerpiece for the exhibit. It would give me a better idea for color schemes and layouts."

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. "Thomas already went over all that with you. Why do you need to see it in person?"

You chuckle. "Forgive me, but I don't trust a business man to know what looks good with what. I'd rather trust the artist he's trying to promote."

He stares at you for a minute. His finger taps a rhythm against his arm, contemplating whether he should work with you or send you right out the door.

Eventually, he sighs. "Fine, but no peeking at anything else!"

"If I want to see the rest of your stuff, I'll go to the exhibit myself."

He leads you through his house where the meeting took place. It's one of the nicer places you've ever been in when working with a client. You've seen mansions and manors before, once or twice, but this felt nicer than those. Those were stuffy and dark, trying to impress a higher class of people. Compared to those, this was casual. The sea breeze coming in through the windows was refreshing, enticing you to run out onto the beach after this.

When you reach the entrance of his studio, he makes you cover your eyes. You relent, letting him lead you through the place until he stops you. The heat of his hand lingers on your arm.

"Okay, you can look now."

You drop your hands and blink away the darkness until your eyes can adjust. Three canvases are all lined up on separate easels, coming together to form one scene. It's ocean-themed, as most of his works seemed to be from your brief research, depicting the story of a mermaid stranded on a beach, being saved by a passing fisherman.

"Oh, so it's a triptych."

He blinks at you. "I'm surprised you know what that is.”

You give him an unimpressed look. "I do have a bachelor's in fine arts, you know."

"Why? You work with computers all day for your job, why do you need to know the traditional aspects of art?"

"Well, aside from having background knowledge for clients like you who do traditional artwork, I don't just work with computers for my art. A lot of my job entails sketching, a traditional medium. Just because I know how to transfer it to a digital format doesn't mean I'm exempt from learning about it."

---

Tag List:

@nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[uispeccoll]

From the John Martin Rare Book Room

De nivis usu medico observationes variae by Thomas Bartholin, and printed in Hafniae [Copenhagen] by Matthias Godiche for Peter Haubold [bookseller], 1661.

Happy December, friends. With winter comes snow and frigid temps, of course. As you walk around, breathing in the crisp air and having your face go numb from the wind and snow, you may think to yourself, "Hmm, I wonder if anyone ever considered using snow as anesthesia?" The answer is a stone–cold "yes."

We're highlighting the work from the prodigious 17th–century Danish physician Thomas Bartholin (1616–1680). Beyond looking like Billy Joel in his heavy metal days (yes, that was a thing), Bartholin rocked a strong scientific mind and was a prolific writer. He corresponded with many of the greatest thinkers of his day, wrote over 20 books (including one on unicorns!), and conducted many experiments.

One area he dabbled in was refrigeration anesthesia (the application of cold to deaden sensation, known today as cryoanesthesia). The application of something cold has long been known to help reduce pain. Medieval physicians, such as Ibn Sina, were the first to write about it.

In De nivis usu medico observationes variae [Various observations on the medical use of snow], Bartholin picks up where those medieval writers left off, thoroughly examining all the medical applications of snow, including as a topical anesthetic.

Chapter XXII makes the first known mention of the use of mixtures of ice and snow for freezing to produce surgical anesthesia, crediting the Italian physician Marco Aurelio Severino for the technique. To avoid killing the tissues and causing gangrene, the ice–snow mixture was to be applied in narrow parallel lines to the area designated to be cut. After a quarter of an hour, feeling would be deadened and the part could be cut without pain.

Along with about 200 pages detailing all the medical properties of snow (who knew there were so many!), there is also a treatise on snow crystals by Bartholin's younger brother, Erasmus. This is the earliest publication on crystallography and preceded Boyle's Essay about the origine & virtues of gems (1672) by eleven years.

It should be noted that we do not suggest trying Bartholin's methods out for yourself this winter.

--Curator Damien Ihrig

[gh0stofstarman]

A Ramble about X-Men

I’m a pretty big Marvel comics fan. I’ve had a Marvel Unlimited Subscription since the pandemic and I’ve pretty much run the gamut of heroes. Avengers, Iron Man, Captain America, Captain Marvel, Ms. Marvel, Squirrel Girl, Fantastic Four, Peter Parker Spider-Man, Spider-Gwen, Miles Morales Spider-Man, Spider-Girl, Quasar, Thor, Eternals, Hawkeye, Howard the Duck, What if?, Deadpool, I could go on forever. And I can pick a run for each of these characters that I specifically clicked with a certain author and the themes they chose.

Except X-Men.

Which is ironic, because I love the X-Men shows, the characters, their major themes, their designs, their movies. Heck it’s not like I haven’t read most of Claremont’s run and beyond.

But I’ve never had a run that actually fully clicked with me, and I kinda wanted to ramble about why. No idea if this will be a series or whatever.

Chris Claremont

Admittedly I’ve never really been one to seek out every single spinoff of a series so most of my experience with the “golden age” of X-Men is with the mainline Uncanny X-Men rather than stuff like the New Mutants. I know it’s sacrilege in some circles not to go in full chronological order with the spinoff series bouncing between but I’m just not that way.

Anyways while Jack Kirby and Stan Lee created the blueprint for what would define X-Men on a fundamental level, Chris Claremont would be the author who made the heroes popular. Storm, Colossus, Wolverine, Jean Grey, Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Banshee … Sunfire, Thunderbird … okay not all of them stuck. But Claremont would write iconic stories that are beloved and I love as well such as the OG Giant Size X-Men comic, Proteus, Days of Future Past, God Loves, Man Kills, and the Dark Phoenix Saga. Stuff that truly gets to the heart of the X-Men fighting against discrimination and hate, proving they deserve a chance to live as they want.

Then that should settle it! I like Chris Claremont, then! These are the most iconic storylines that means I love the most iconic incarnation of the X-Men.

Not really.

Chris Claremont founded a lot of good ideas that would be the springboard used by other authors in years to come. But it’s not as though his stint was as brief as Lee/Kirby or Roy Thomas.

16 years.

And most of what I mentioned is spread far across the first 8.

So what about the bits in-between?

Well, if I had to describe the majority of Claremont’s writing as X-Men outside of these storylines is that it’s kinda a roulette wheel.

This was back in the day where you had to have some bonkers concepts to hook the reader in. Vampires, sci-fi tech, aliens, gods, demons, etc. And most of the time Chris chose a random one to analyze the X-Men under and reevaluate how they can be used for the X-Men’s explicit purpose of fighting against discrimination and promoting equality and diversity.

Which often leads to those aforementioned storylines where they build on this very well. X-Men vs Televangelism does go out into creating weird devices to mind control people but it’s all in service to the team’s message. The bad future the sentinels create in Days of Future Past can easily be seen as a dystopian future where discrimination is normalized.

However sometimes Chris can’t help himself and adds more layers of insanity to the plot, to the point the message kinda gets lost in the mix.

Here’s an example.

X-Men go mysteriously missing, only for Beast to find them working at a circus freak show. Interesting. Leads back to the idea of them being demoralized and treated as freaks rather than real people.

Beast does some snooping around, finding that Magneto is the mastermind behind this. Perhaps he’s trying to humiliate the X-Men and get them to give up their hope for equality seeing how humanity makes fun of them while also getting revenge because he’s the bad guy.

They fight Magneto but are bested in combat. It’s then revealed that Magneto, after being turned into a baby in a previous comic did want revenge, so he took the X-Men to his Antarctic base to … mentally regress them into babies and torture them with a nanny bot.

Huh?

And I’d be lying if I said this sort of weird progression isn’t a repeating theme.

X-Men go to space to fight aliens; makes sense because all the other heroes were fighting aliens so they gotta prove they’re on the level. Alien fighting leads into them meeting Xenomorph-like aliens that slowly transform the X-Men into them; drama is created. X-Men escape but still are transforming, so Storm befriends a space whale and then becomes one to cure everyone; buh?!?!

Like I feel like some of these stories increase the insanity progressively but they go a little step too far. Sometimes it’s just out of nowhere like when demons kidnap the X-Men even though they were never hinted before to care about them, and somehow age up Magik to an adult. Or just Storm becomes a vampire suddenly even though last issue there was nothing even slightly referencing vampires.

It’s kind of a curse because X-Men is constantly trying to get bigger and bigger under Claremont but sometimes you’d prefer it just to take it slow and get back to the more straight forward connections to fighting oppression and discrimination.

Ironically it causes me to appreciate the more mundane moments that aren’t trying to be huge plot twists one on top of each other. Stuff like Kitty Pryde and Storm hanging out, going to Japan and getting to know Wolverine better, Nightcrawler trying to socialize more, and just Beast’s witty banter.

But even that can be a little fumbled at times because well,

Chris Claremont is a straight white guy.

And there’s nothing wrong with that at all. But you can tell he has hang-ups trying to write about race or women because he doesn’t really have those experiences. Therefore, sometimes when he tries to write soliloquies and romances (which is pretty common), sometimes it can fall flat because of his perspective.

There is a lot of romance and relationship drama in X-Men, which is understandable and needed for the narrative. But so much becomes either bland, unintentionally problematic, or just too brief to make any true impact.

I’d say the biggest exception is Jean/Cyclops because they’ve been established for years and it’s very clear they care about each other. However, Jean dies in Dark Phoenix (at least that was the intent of the time) so a lot of the time the series bounces between other couples.

He later meets and then marries Madelyne Pryor, who is noted to look nearly identical to Jean. However that just makes things awkward as Madelyne often plays the role of “Not-Jean.” It at least has an interesting through line of him working through his grief, but little time is actually given for Madelyne’s own agency to break out of “Not-Jean,” which makes it really awkward when it’s revealed she’s a clone of Jean and Jean was alive all this time. So … what was the point?

Charles Xavier has so many love interests but often times he comes off as a jerk. Moira MacTaggart, Liliandra … even at one point Jean herself but everyone buries this for good reason. He comes off as very manipulative both to his partner and the X-Men. Charles is very unsympathetic to Moira’s predicament in raising Proteus. Liliandra he’s willing to bend over backwards for even if it means that he’s breaking his own morals in the process. And we don’t talk about Jean. However this would mostly be used by other authors to analyze how good of a leader Charles is, and more of his flaws. Meanwhile, Chris Claremont normalizes his behavior and rarely calls him out on it.

Colossus and Kitty Pryde.

What can I say about them? Colossus is an adult, Kitty Pryde is still a kid. It’s gross, but Chris wants you to really know they love each other more than a brother-and-sister relationship would. And they even point out it’s creepy, yet they still do it anyways.

Wolverine is entirely a whole other can of worms that I could write about separately.

Ironically some of the relationships that aren’t confirmed because of the times but are implied like Mystique and Destiny or Storm and Stevie are actually a lot better and written with much more nuance. However again nothing is confirmed and could be left to interpretation such as with Storm and Stevie. After all they do try to pair up these characters in straight couples … problematically but still.

Ultimately I feel like Claremont does have a lot of good ideas but the execution of them is where the ball is dropped. I would never call his run bad but I’ve never really felt compelled to return to it. I can’t deny the impact it’s made by any measure. However, returning to the originals just makes you wonder, how did some of this lead to Claremont’s X-Men being held up as an absolute gold standard comic?

I don’t know this was a long rant and I dunno if I’ll do it again. If you liked this let me know

[mvltisstuff]

hii!! i hope your summer has been/was wonderful!!

if it’s possible could you do an evan buckley request to “begin again” by taylor swift?

where reader was in a really rough relationship and now with buck he’s treating her like an actual goddess and she’s constantly questioning to herself how she deserves it and mentioning how weird it is that he actually cares about/loves her.

thank you so so much in advance!! 🫶

begin again - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @meep-meep-richie

a/n: guys i’m SO sorry i have been so slow again w the fics, i’ve just been trying to enjoy summer as much as i can, but i certainly have some coming your way ;)) thank you for the request love, and i hope the rest of your august is lovely <3 i did a bit of a different style with this, hope you enjoy

“can you keep your location on this time?” her boyfriend asks, seeing her getting ready in the mirror.

“i’m just going to work, thomas,” y/n chuckles, thinking it was harmless, but she was his eyes roll almost to the back of his head.

“i’m just asking you one thing, y/n,” he groans.

“i just think you could trust me, i have a long shift today,” she brushes her hair back into an elastic, getting her belongings before grabbing her phone. she always tells herself that she’ll stand up for herself, but she falls into his traps anyway. she presses the small button hesitantly, showing him her location.

“hi, buck!” she greeted, as he walks in the door. he jogs right up to her, kissing the side of her cheek as she giggles into his touch. “i’m going out with some friends tonight, but i’ll be back before you know it so we can spend time together!”

“don’t rush, baby,” he laughs. “take your time with your friends, have a fun night.” he goes to love his stuff onto his counter, but she follows up behind him.

“oh, here, i’ll send you the link to find my friends,” she looks down at her phone, so she doesn’t see the confusion written all over his face.

“the link to what?”

“i’m just gonna send you my location, so you don’t have to ask.”

“honey, i don’t need your location,” he smiles lightly, giving her reassurance and it’s her turn to be confused.

“a-are you sure?” her nose crinkles along with her brows.

“of course, i trust you, always,” he tells her, letting the weight on her shoulders drop. she was hoping he wasn’t mad, but he would never, ever get mad at her for something as silly as that.

“oh!” she says, shocked but still appreciating him. “okay, thank you, i’ll be back in a bit.”

“don’t thank me, just be safe,” he pecks her lips again, watching her skip happily out the door.

y/n looked back in the long mirror again, slipping on a pair of heels to compliment the adorable dress she was wearing. they went along perfectly, and now she finally had an occasion to wear them. she was thrilled to show thomas her outfit, feeling pretty in her own skin and twirling the dress out in the mirror. she turned around, expecting a bright smirk on his face, but she was met with a flat expression.

“what’s wrong?” she asked, concern written in her words.

“nothing,” he grumbles, moving over to adjust his sleeves and grab something from the nightstand.

“no, somethings wrong. i can tell in your voice.”

“y/n, leave it,” he sighs, looking over at y/n who’s still waiting for a response. “are you sure you want to wear that?”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, its a bit too much, don’t you think?” y/n looked back at the dress, not seeing anything wrong with it. maybe it was the design, her body, but clearly something was wrong with it. maybe she just couldn’t see the way he does. “we’re not going to the club, are we?”

“no, but i wanted to look nice.”

“maybe you should keep looking,” he tried to disguise his heartbreaking words with a light grin, but y/n saw right through it. he loves her, he just wants what’s best for her and she knows he knows best. so, she hung the dress back up and put the heels back in their box. she ran into the bathroom to change again, practicing happy smiles and tried to fight back the stinging tears in her eyes. he doesn’t want her to ruin her makeup.

buck and y/n’s schedules had aligned again, letting her finally be able to meet his real work family. she was so happy she could finally enter this part of his life, and only wanted to support all of his team at the 118.

y/n had been in the bathroom for a while, a little too long for buck to not have any concern. she was examining her outfit, the same dress she wore when thomas told her to take it off. she still felt beautiful in it, but not as much as she did. she never realized how easily someone could take away her confidence. she figured she’d at least leave a pair of new heels out, thinking buck would appreciate the simple sandal.

“y/n?” he knocks, lightly. “you doing alright, honey?”

“yeah!” she answers, suddenly getting that nervous feeling in her stomach. she hesitated on opening the door, but she clicked the lock and pulled it open. she felt more vulnerable than ever standing in front of him. she knew his reaction and that he’d want it off, but she was only met with complete admiration.

“woah,” he exhales, looking at her gorgeous dress and wonderful figure underneath.

“i can change if you don’t want me to wear this, i have a few more options in the bathro-“

“are you kidding? you have to wear this, you look so beautiful in this, y/n!”

“i do?” she asks, looking into his genuine eyes.

“of course you do, what makes you say that?”

“it’s just that, you know, it’s nothing,” she tried to walk back over to the shoe rack, looking for her sandals but his hand stops her.

“hey, talk to me,” buck requests, softly but also wanting her to be able to open up.

“my ex didn’t like this dress, he didn’t think i was good enough for a piece of fabric,” she laughs sarcastically, but buck can tell it hurts her still.

“well, he’s a dumbass, a dumbass who lost you,” he replies. “i’ve never seen someone more gorgeous than you, i don’t care what anyone says. i’ll spend every day proving it to you.”

“how do you do that?”

“do what?”

“just make everything so much better without trying?”

“oh, you know,” buck jokes, putting his arm around her shoulder. “im a natural, that’s all.” she slaps his shoulder, laughing at him before going off to see his family.

y/n stood in the corner of the room in an outfit she never wanted to wear today. she watched everyone converse in a friendly way, only few people stopping by to say hello. even if they did, it lasted a few minutes. she quickly became a decoration to thomas, just being there for silent support before he ditched her for more rich businesspeople. she sipped lightly at her small glass of champagne, wishing she had the whole bottle with her.

he didn’t see any potential in her, not even caring to introduce her until someone asked who she was. she never had felt more out of place, but it became a regular thing. he’d venture off to talk to other people, leaving y/n in the dark. she felt like she was just swept under the rug, something to deal with later.

“bobby, come over here!” buck shouted across the room, waving his hand for bobby to come over. when he did, he had a welcoming smile on his face and shook y/n’s hand. “this is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“it’s nice to finally meet you, y/n,” he says. “we’ve heard a lot about you, like a lot.”

“thank you for having me today,” she replies gracefully, looking at buck who’s glancing back at her with pride in his face.

“it’s our pleasure, really, you’re a delight, y/n.” athena walks in, wrapping her arm around bobby’s waist and offering y/n a drink. buck guides her over to chim and hen who sat together on one of the benches in the grants backyard.

“y/n, this is henrietta, or hen, and then chimney,” buck smiles, his hand still connected with hers and letting her say hello to everyone.

“my real names howard, by the way, not sure if that one bothered to mention that,” chimney pokes fun at buck, who pretends to be offended for a moment but just lets it be.

“i’m glad we can put this lovely face to the name,” hen beams, looking at y/n and feeling the positivity radiating from her. “maybe you can rub off on that one.”

“my names not ‘that one’ by the way, and i’m right here!” buck fake complains, but knowing they all have a good heart. “i’m about to leave and take her with me.”

everyone groans in complaint, making y/n laugh and buck leading her to sit next to everyone. she makes her rounds saying hello to athena’s kids and eddie, everyone finding her to be so graceful. the acceptance from everyone was fully unexpected on y/n’s part, barely being able to comprehend how buck could be so in love with her. she had stepped out for a moment after assisting athena and bobby in the kitchen, buck following right after her.

y/n never got this treatment from thomas, always feeling like she had to beg for it but it was so easy for buck. it made her years of insecurity and questioning vanish, only to be replaced with the security from her loving man.

“you alright?” he asks, meeting her by the steps of the home.

“yeah, i’m perfect!” she tells him. “i just didn’t expect this.”

“they all love you, what’s not to love?” he replies softly, looking her up and down. “you’re smart, you’re the sweetest person i’ve ever met, you’re wonderful in every way, y/n.”

“i remember when thomas took me to work events, and i was just in the corner with a drink. no one really noticed i was there, so it just came as a surprise to see you so affectionate.”

“i’ll always show you off, you’re the best woman i’ve ever met. i want the whole world to know that i managed to get you, and also,” he kisses her lips, bringing her thoughts back down to earth to ease her worries. “i love you, a lot.”

in that moment, y/n knew buck was everything that her ex could never be.