#I've got a few attempts at drawing him that I could share if anyone is interested

[wingnuttf2]

Requesting to make your heavy bigger (torso wise). Big men hot. Have a good day

I knew I was drawing him a bit too small

I want to hug him partially because it took me so many attempts to draw him and partially because he just looks so nice

I think this improved my Heavy-drawing skills

You have a good day too, Anon :)

[geotjwrs]

fly bite or love bite??

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; hickeys

It was a typical busy day on the set of Wednesday. The cast and crew were winding down after a long day of filming, and there was a buzz of chatter and laughter as everyone prepared to head home.

In a quiet corner of the set, Jenna and Y/N were sharing a rare moment of privacy. Jenna's playful kisses had left a few unmistakable marks on Y/N's neck, and they both knew it would be tricky to hide them.

Jenna grinned up at Y/N, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You look cute with those," she teased, tracing her fingers gently over one of the marks.

Y/N sighed, though he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, well, let's just hope no one notices," he said, pulling up his collar in a futile attempt to cover the hickeys.

As they walked back to the set, trying to act nonchalant, Y/N could feel the eyes of their friends on him. The set was still bustling with filming, and it seemed everyone was winding down from the day's work.

It didn't take long for someone to notice. Emma, their close friend and co-star, approached them with a knowing smirk. "Hey, Y/N, what happened to your neck?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N felt his face heat up and quickly blurted out, "Oh, uh, a fly bit me."

Emma's smirk widened, and she crossed her arms. "A fly? Must have been one determined fly."

Before Y/N could respond, Percy, another co-star, joined them, his eyes widening as he noticed the marks. "Whoa, Y/N, what happened to your neck? Looks like you got into a fight with something."

Jenna, trying to suppress her laughter, stepped in. "Yeah, it was a really big fly," she said, biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

The group around them began to chuckle, and Y/N could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. "Really, it was just a fly," he insisted, though his tone was more pleading than convincing.

Emma leaned in closer, examining the marks with a critical eye. "You know, I've seen a lot of fly bites in my time, but these... these are something special."

Jenna couldn't hold it in any longer and burst into laughter, drawing even more attention from the cast and crew. "Alright, alright," she said between giggles. "It wasn't a fly. I gave him those."

The surrounding group erupted in laughter, and Y/N buried his face in his hands. "Thanks for that, Jenna," he muttered, though he couldn't help but chuckle along with everyone else.

Emma patted Y/N on the back, still laughing. "Don't worry, Y/N. We've all known you two are dating for a while now."

Y/N looked up, shocked. "Wait, you all knew?"

Percy nodded, a grin on his face. "Yeah, you two aren't as subtle as you think. The way you look at each other, the little touches, it's pretty obvious."

Jenna blushed slightly but smiled. "I guess we weren't fooling anyone, huh?"

Emma shook her head, still smiling. "Nope. But we're all happy for you."

Y/N relaxed, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Really? No one's upset or anything?"

Emma shook her head. "Nope. We're just happy to see you both happy."

As the laughter died down, the director called for everyone to get back to their places. Jenna gave Y/N a quick kiss on the cheek, her eyes still sparkling with amusement. "Sorry, but it was too funny not to admit."

Y/N sighed, but his smile was genuine. "It's okay. Just try to keep the fly bites to a minimum next time, alright?"

"Deal," Jenna said with a wink.

As they resumed filming, the atmosphere on set was lighter, filled with laughter and relief. Jenna and Y/N no longer had to hide their feelings, and the acceptance from their friends made their bond even stronger.

The next few days on set were a whirlwind of acting, but the ease with which Jenna and Y/N could now interact made everything feel smoother. They no longer had to worry about sneaking glances or hiding smiles. During lunch breaks, they sat together openly, laughing and chatting with their friends.

One afternoon, while waiting for a scene to be set up, Emma and Percy sat down next to Jenna and Y/N. Emma looked at Y/N with a mischievous grin. "So, any more fly bites lately?"

Y/N rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "No, Jenna's been very well-behaved," he said, receiving a playful nudge from Jenna.

Jenna laughed. "Hey, I can't help it if you're so irresistible."

Percy shook his head, chuckling. "You two are something else. Seriously though, it's good to see you both so happy."

Jenna and Y/N shared a look of pure joy and contentment. "Thanks, Percy," Jenna said softly. "It means a lot to us."

As the days or weeks went by, the cast and crew of Wednesday continued to work hard, but there was a newfound lightness to their interactions. Jenna and Y/N's relationship became a source of good-natured teasing and affectionate support. It was clear to everyone that their bond only made the work environment better.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of filming, the cast decided to go out for dinner together. They laughed and shared stories, the camaraderie among them evident. Jenna and Y/N sat close together, their hands intertwined under the table.

Emma raised her glass, a playful glint in her eye. "To Jenna and Y/N, and their legendary fly bites," she toasted, making everyone laugh.

Jenna and Y/N clinked their glasses with their friends, their smiles wide and genuine.

As the night came to an end and they headed home, Jenna and Y/N walked hand in hand, the cool night air wrapping around them. "You know," Jenna said softly, "I'm really glad everyone knows now. It feels so much better this way."

Y/N nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "Me too. I love you, Jenna."

Jenna smiled, her heart swelling with happiness. "I love you too, Y/N."

As they continued walking, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them and the knowledge that their love was strong, open, and supported by those who mattered most.

[whumpshaped]

a concept just rammed into my head and i will now share it with my fellow Ambac Rotators on this blog: beck and helle species(?) switch

beck as a (relatively) new vampire

helle as a vampire hunter

no idea where this is gonna go. i just had the sudden image of human!helle pinning down a vampire 🛐

good day anon. i finally have the tentative spoons to engage w the fantasy (that ive been meaning to write for FOREVER and ur ask served as a good reminder of my goals and aspirations thank u)

masterlist

vampire hunter beck

tw vampire whumpee, dehumanisation, pet whump

Beck had been overly cautious every time he went hunting. He had to be, as a stupid little runt without anyone to protect him.

He had crawled out of his grave and into the clutches of a woman he barely recognised, only to immediately be discarded once she realised he couldn't use magic. He had begged her to leave him alive at least, promising to stay out of her way and go 'hunt' on someone else's territory; not his proudest moment, but then again, he had little to be proud of lately.

He hunted as best as he could, picking off lone passerby and muffling their cries as he drank his fill, too frantic and hungry to really care about causing pain. Then he disappeared for days, sometimes weeks, terrified of drawing attention to himself. And the cycle would repeat.

Until one day, he slipped up and chose the wrong target.

Beck had never seen a hunter before, especially not so up close and personal — and now that they were straddling his waist and putting a stake to his heart, he decided he didn't fucking like them. He had his hands up on either side of his head without having to be told, completely still in an attempt to appease the hunter who had caught him.

"You're the runt," they stated, not even a hint of doubt in their voice, but Beck nodded anyway.

"Yes, sir," he breathed, very aware of the sharp point digging into his chest whenever he dared inhale.

The title wasn't a conscious choice, really. He'd had to talk his way out of quite a few confrontations before, and if there was one thing he'd learned throughout all of it, it was that manners never hurt.

The hunter looked amused, leaning down a little and inadvertently placing more of their weight on the stake. Beck tensed under them, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation of his inevitable demise. "Sir? Have I gotten myself a polite little leech?"

"I can be very polite so long as I'm alive, sir," he said hastily, and they chuckled.

"Alive... as if. Don't flatter yourself. I've seen corpses that looked better than you."

Beck pressed himself even more against the ground. "You're right, sir," he squeaked. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, listen." They clicked their tongue at him, like one would to get a pet's attention, and he reluctantly opened his eyes again. "I've got a deal for you."

"A... a deal?"

Was this common? He had nothing to compare this to. Were all hunters like this?

"Only because you're so well-behaved." They pressed down on the stake a little, as a gentle reminder for Beck to keep behaving, and he was suddenly very eager to nod along. "You see, runts are pretty rare. And regular vampires... they can't really be kept. It's a one and done deal, I come in, I stake them, I get my money."

That was simple enough. Terrifying, but simple. But also– "K-kept?"

"Kept," they repeated, grin widening. "Like a dog."

Beck swallowed. He had a feeling of where this was going, and he did not like the implications. "I... I see."

"And while I'm pretty successful, as far as hunters go... This is a dangerous job. I could use a buffer."

"No," he said timidly. "Please, I can't do anything, I can't– I can barely hunt, I'm starving half the time–"

"I could do with bait, too," they interrupted, shushing Beck when they saw him open his mouth to protest. "And of course, because I deal fairly, I'd let you have some blood in exchange. Can't have a pet without feeding it."

That... That made the offer sound much better, all of a sudden. He hadn't had anything to drink in at least a week, getting by on whatever dead animal he could find in the parks at night. Drinking from roadkill. His mouth was watering at the mere thought of human blood, even though the hunter hadn't yet specified what they'd be feeding him.

"Mmm, what is it? Interested?" they taunted, and Beck couldn't resist nodding a little. He wanted someone to protect him so badly; apparently even if they were a hunter.

"What... what do I need to do, sir?" he asked as respectfully as he possibly could, already wincing when the hunter pulled out a collar from their coat pocket and threw it into his hand.

"First things first, put that on. We'll discuss the rest on the way home."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @thecyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna @whumpedydump

[lt-natrace]

Bruised Knuckles || Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Hi everyone, I've been a little MIA on here writing wise because my classes started again and I have been struggling with a balance of classes, work, and writing but here I am! I wrote this for @callsign-phoenix and her 500 follower celebration. I chose the prompt "Don't tell me you're fine, I can see the blood"

Description: Phoenix doesn't take shit from men that offend her or nurse!reader girlfriend

Content: includes violence, blood, sexist/gross comments from men, fluff at the end, phoenix is a badass

Word Count: 1.3k

Thank you to @blue-aconite for looking this over, it was very appreciated <3

The first time Phoenix saw you, she was in for a sprained ankle from a team bonding game day. In fact, as soon as you entered the room the pain in her ankle had magically disappeared and all she could focus on was trying to make you laugh. Bob saw right through her actions and mumbled out a “really Phoenix?” as soon as you left the room. From that moment on, she did whatever she could to see you and after two months of fake concussions and cold symptoms, she got the nerve to ask you out for a drink. 

That first date was almost 4 months ago. Since then you had gone on several more and eventually became an official couple. Due to the relationship being so fresh, the two of you decided to keep it under wraps, only letting a few close friends know of what was going on. Which is how Phoenix ended up at the Hard Deck without you. She insisted on you coming out with them but being in a sweaty bar with all the pilots you’d taken care of was the last place you wanted to be. 

Almost immediately after she got her first drink Hangman challenged Phoenix to a game of pool. The two of them were known for going up against each other in anything they could, especially a game of pool where the loser buys a round. While standing back to observe Hangman’s plan of attack she heard a few men letting out belly laughs across the pool table before one of them spoke above the rest, “I’m just saying that seeing a girl like that makes me wish they ditched the scrubs and went back to those little white dresses that nurses used to wear.”

Phoenix could’ve swore she felt her blood heat up as she continued to listen, hands tightening around the pool cue. Bob noticed her whitening knuckles and looked to where her eyes were set in a stare. Upon listening further, Bob immediately understood the cause of her growing rage. He shot her a warning look which was promptly ignored as Phoenix straightened her posture and took a step forward.  

“Phoenix-” Bob started in a low voice to avoid drawing attention as he stuck his hand in front of her.

He was cut off by Phoenix’s pool cue being handed to him as she walked by, “It’ll be real quick, Bob.”

The other members of the team quieted and shared confused glances before looking towards Bob for an explanation. He ignored their looks, focused on Phoenix’s actions as she made her way towards the men.

“Couldn’t help but overhear you talking about that new nurse, the one that should ditch the practical scrubs?” She questioned, cocking her head in an attempt to play dumb.

The taller of the men sat up straighter and glanced at the others before looking back to Phoenix and speaking up, “I mean yeah, what does it matter? We’re at a navy bar and if it offends you, maybe this job isn’t right for a little girl like you.”

Phoenix let out a scoff before trying to swallow her anger as she took a step forward, “Just didn’t like some of the things I heard, pretty disrespectful to talk about someone in the same field as you like that.”

“C’mon honey-“ The man tried but was cut off by Phoenix’s fist hitting his nose, blood pouring out almost immediately

Bob jumped forward as soon as it happened to help defend his pilot’s actions, mumbling out curses as he set the pool cue against the wall. Phoenix held up her hand to stop him as she grabbed her jacket from the chair and left cash on the counter before Bob could lecture her or anyone could ask questions.

—————-

The sound of your door unlocking caused you to jump up and check the time on the stove, wondering if you’d fallen asleep and missed Phoenix’s call asking to be picked up. To your surprise it was only 10pm, she had never been home this early after a night out but you couldn’t complain. 

“Hey baby,” she greeted you, bringing you in for a kiss before you could ask any questions, “I brought home some pizza in case you were hungry.”

Her actions continued to confuse you, “Thank you, but we ate dinner like 3 hours ago, right before you left. Everything alright?” You asked, struggling to finish your sentences as she continued to push your hair out of your face and pepper kisses on your cheeks.

“Everything is fine, even better now that I’m back here with you.” She mumbled against your jaw before placing kisses down your neck, smirking as you let out a quiet moan. 

As you realized what she was trying to do, you grabbed her hands from your face, not missing the slight wince in her face as the palm of your hands brushed her knuckles. On instinct you flipped her hands over to look at the tops of them, noting the dried blood and blue bruises forming. 

She ripped her hands back and your eyes met hers, “I can explain but I promise I’m fine.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fine, I can see the blood!” You exclaimed, grabbing her hands back to take a closer look. “Jesus, Nat.”

Before she could protest anymore, you pulled her into your bathroom and helped her onto the counter and out of her jacket. You shuffled around under the sink until you found everything you needed, a giggle leaving Phoenix’s mouth as she saw how much you had pulled out, “You can put away the tape and gauze, the blood’s not mine.”

When you looked up at her, she was staring at her knuckles and trying to rub the blood off of her skin in order to avoid eye contact with you. As you saw her smile fall and turn to a look of shame you stood up to be at eye level, grabbing her face in the process. 

“What the hell did you get into?” You asked, forcing her to keep eye contact. She stayed silent for a moment and you let her gaze fall back to her bruised knuckles.

“He was talking about you,” she mumbled out after a moment, your confused look urging her to keep talking, “the guy at the bar, some new recruit, was saying disrespectful things about you and I just couldn’t stand to sit there and listen anymore.”

Your heart swelled as you listened to her story. You were the kind of person to brush off gross comments about your profession, your body, or whatever else men decided they had something to say about you. To have someone that respected you enough to say something in your defense was such a new concept and it made you fall even harder for the woman in front of you that was trying her best not to stain the counter with blood. 

“Oh baby…” you whispered, barely loud enough to be heard above the fan and movie playing in the next room.

Phoenix looked up with apologetic eyes, “I didn’t mean to make a scene-”

You cut her off with a harsh kiss, cupping her face to keep her close. After a moment, she reached her hands up to yours to get your attention to pull away, “Are you mad that I might have spoiled this secret thing we’ve had going on?”

“I could never be mad at you for this,” you replied, holding her face close to yours, “but no more fighting, you’re too good at what you do for your skills to be washed down the drain.”

“Deal, but only if you put your skills to use and fix up my hands so I can thank my pretty girl” She said, a smirk appearing on her face.

[yutafrita]

hi nat!! 😊 hope you've been well <333 i've been sick the last few weeks 😔 but i had some time to start under the blue flames :'') 👍 can i request a halloween-themed drabble or short fic with taeil pls? :> -🚀

Hiiii!! Aw man I’m sorry to hear that, I really hope you’re feeling better! Being sick is the worst. I wanna say I’m mostly okay- just a little stressed out with some stuff at my job atm 😵‍💫 thank you for checking, this really made my day ♥️

Ahhh Under the Blue Flames!! I'm so happy you're getting around to reading it- that was my first NCT fic and was a big undertaking lol. I hope you're liking it!

You absolutely can request Taeil- here you go :)

[11:27pm]

Pairing: Taeil x Reader (she/her) Word Count: 1,311 Warnings: Alcohol consumptions, mentions of a fraternity

It had been two months since your ex dumped you, and your roommate was sick of you moping around the apartment- it didn’t help that all of the ice cream in the apartment was gone.

“That’s it, you’re going to the Halloween party with me whether you like it or not!” She shouted, irritated by the empty freezer.

“Why can’t I just give out candy to the kids in our apartment complex?”

“Because there’s only like, two kids that live here.”

So, now you stood in the middle of a packed party with a red solo cup in hand, and and a stupid bow in the other. Your roommate had insisted in shoving you into her costume from last year, not at all pleased with your idea of reusing your Princess Peach costume.

You scrunched your face up, grossed out by the messy concoction of alcohol the freshman fraternity boy has handed to you. You took another sip, hoping the unpleasant drink would dull the ache of the cheap wings digging into your shoulders.

Your roommate was in the corner of the crowded living room, chatting up one of the older brothers of the fraternity. You knew she would dump you when she got one drink in her system- but you didn’t mind too much. You needed to go out again and remember that you were allowed to have fun.

“Cupid- that’s a cute costume,” a voice behind you manage to say over the blaring music and chatty party goers. The owner of the voice moved in front of you and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face.

“A witch, very original,” you chuckled before tilting your head. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“We had physics together last year, I’m Taeil,” the man reintroduced himself and nodded as you jogged your own memory.

He sat a couple of rows ahead of you in the class, but typically he was always the one answering the professors questions. He was smart, cute, and was always nice enough to help any classmate who asked.

“Ah, so you could ace physics but not think of a better costume?” You taunted, earning a chuckle from him. The music drowned out his laugh, and was really killing your attempt at being buzzed. “Hey, do you wanna go outside?”

The backyard of the frat house was surprisingly well kept. Taeil explained that every week different pledge classes would draw lots for chores in the house, but the freshman were typically the ones who pulled the unlucky straw of cutting the grass.

“You guys definitely rig that against them. Poor freshmen,” you leaned back on the lawn swing you two shared, watching the gentle lights of the party go.

“We don’t! Plus, I usually get stuck doing the cooking,” Taeil defended.

“My roommate usually does the cooking,” you hummed. “Although, I make a mean mac and cheese.”

“A six year old can make a mean mac and cheese,” he teased. You stuck your tongue out in defiance, and you both burst out laughing.

“So, why were you dragged here tonight?” He leaned back in the swing now, his eyes level with yours.

“Hm, my roommate thinks I need to be more social,” it was partially true. In the past two months, unless you were working or in class, you hardly interacted with anyone besides your roommate. Not like you had many friends before your breakup, but you would at least study with different classmates. Now, you refused to do that, preferring to wallow in your own self pity.

“Had a bad breakup?” Taeil guessed, raising an eyebrow.

“No way it’s that obvious,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, your eyes shut in embarrassment.

Taeil shrugged, “his loss. Now, I get to sit with a pretty girl dressed as Cupid.”

You turned your face away from Taeil’s gaze to hide your blush. Even with the silly makeup he had on for his costume, you knew he was handsome and while you may not feel your best, he was with you as if you deserved all the attention in the world.

You had rejoined the rest of the party at some point, smiling and giggling with Taeil as you did so.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Your roommate popped up in front of you, her baseball cap askew. She saw the man to your side and furrowed her eyebrows, “who are you?”

“I’m your ride home tonight,” Taeil half laughed.

“I’m definitely sober enough to drive,” you whined, noting the small stumble in your roommates step.

She slung her arm over her shoulder, and whispered (although, her whisper was still clearly loud enough for Taeil to hear), “I think he just wants to spend more time with you.”

Taeil had dropped you off at your place, and before he walked back to the fraternity house (it was about two blocks away), he made sure to get your number and schedule you for a coffee date the following day.

*****

“I hate when Halloween is on a weekday,” you yawned, firmly holding the large coffee in your hand. Sitting with Taeil at your school’s coffee shop, you noticed a few things. Every two minutes someone new would wave hello to him, and he would always greet them back with their full name. You also noticed how oddly organized he was- the planner he had set on the table that detailed all of his time down to the minute, the tablet that had every class perfectly structured, and his hair was perfectly styled despite the visible exhaustion from the night prior.

"I don't understand how you can still look good despite being up so late," Taeil flirted, his eyes not shifting from the schoolwork before him.

This would become commonplace with Taeil by the third date you two would go on to the bowling alley. Random flirtations mixed in with playful teasing and childish banter. In every way, he was a breathe of fresh air in the pitiful routine you had formed after your breakup, but after he dropped you off at your place after bowling, you realized you two still hadn't even kissed.

"He's just flirting and hasn't even tried anything?" your roommate asked afterwards, not looking up from her psychology homework. You had burst into her room shortly afterwards, arms folded and in distress.

You shook your head, "he didn't even do that cheesy thing where he pretends to help me bowl and is just actually rubbing himself against my back."

"Oh," she frowned, "he sees you as a bro."

You pretended to be okay with him just seeing you as a friend- you had just gotten out of a relationship- but you found it tough to not be bothered by this. You liked being around Taeil beyond the confines of a fraternity Halloween party, but you were beginning to worry about him not feeling the same way.

"Taeil?" you met him after chemistry one day, a routine that became commonplace quickly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you see me as like... just a bro?" you asked, feeling stupid immediately after the words left your mouth. He stopped walking and shot you a confused look you hadn't seen on him before.

You tightened the grip on your backpack, now speaking a mile a minute out of sheer embarrassment, "BecauseMyRoommateSaysThatYouJustSeeMeAsaBroAndThatsFineIfYouDoThatsOkayButIJustWantToBeOnTheSamePage-."

Taeil stopped your word vomit but gently grabbing your face in his hands and dropping a small but affirming kiss against your lips, surprising you before you kissed him back in the now empty university hallway.

"I didn't want to make the first move," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, "but, I do want to... potentially...actually explore us as a couple- only if you are."

You giggled, a smile now on your face you swore you lost as you then nodded at the man, "I would like that."

Masterlist

[weepingfromacedartree]

Dancing Around the Truth Snippet

Dearest Polinators,

I've been working on this fic for monthsss but have been holding off on releasing any chapters until I finish writing the entire first draft. I'm still a few weeks (and about 30K words) away from officially publishing, but... I just got laid off an hour ago and need to distract myself! Sharing a snippet of the first chapter for anyone interested :)

Friday

It's the final ball of the season. The social gathering to celebrate every social gathering that came before it, each one an important chapter in some lucky couple’s love story. That’s what Violet Bridgerton would say, at least. Benedict would call it a celebration of the friendship and art (and sex, wine, drugs, etc.) forged in the last six months or so. Eloise would say it marks the last time she’s forced to endure a corset before retreating to the country for the remainder of the year. Tonight, Colin would argue that it’s an excellent place to drink. And to catch a glimpse of a certain elusive redhead. 

Colin stands in the depths of Lady Danbury’s ballroom, swishing back the last drops of champagne in his glass. As the bubbles prick his throat, he half-listens to Violet and Francesca’s musings on his sister’s first official season. Colin had made an earnest attempt to take an interest in Francesca’s coming out all season. It was an momentous time in any woman’s life, at least that was what he was told. But there were more other, more important things occupying Colin’s time and attention, leaving little room in his mind for other matters. Well, there was one thing on his mind. One person, really. 

One of Francesca’s (discarded) suitors approaches the group to share a word. If Colin had given slightly more of a damn, he might roll his eyes at the man’s feeble attempt to win Francesca’s favor when the season is practically over. Instead, Colin takes the opportunity to slip away. He follows the path his eyes have been trained on all night. 

Moving through the crowd between them, Colin watches Penelope as she dances across the floor. He supposes “dance” is somewhat of a generous term to employ. It would be more accurate to describe Penelope as being “thrown around” by the geezer she’s been paired with. 

The man is Jeremy Michaelson, a Welsh lord who’s been attending these events a few weeks now. Colin had never spoken to the man, but he knows his type. The type to wander into the Ton halfway through a season and expect to scoop up whichever young bride fits his liking. Judging from his performance on the dance floor, out of sync with not just his partner, but the room around him, Colin also takes him for a deaf man with two left feet. 

As the orchestra grows louder, the strings building towards a climax, Colin’s eyes shift back to Penelope. She’s wearing a dress of blush and gold, the floral fabric reflecting the light of the room. It’s as if every step she takes changes the light around her. It’s entrancing. Literally. Colin cannot take his eyes off of her. Her hair is loosely pinned atop her head, pink flowers laced through red curls. She looks beautiful, even with that unmistakable frown persisting on her lips as she’s guided by Michaelson. When Colin thinks of Penelope, he usually thinks of her smile before anything else. Before this season, Pen rarely spoke to Colin without that smile gracing her lips. 

When the music finally draws to a close, Penelope take a step back from Michaelson and nods politely. Her partner, in turn, starts hacking relentlessly, his old lungs clearly not built for the dance routine. His greasy fingers latch onto Penelope’s right shoulder for balance. That is Colin’s last straw. 

The 1815 season had been markedly different than years past for several reasons, but the most distressing difference for Colin was in his relationship with his best friend. Before the season even began, he could sense that something had shifted between them. During his travels, he had sent her countless letters, persistent but always unanswered. While it was not unusual for his siblings to leave such letters unanswered, he did not expect the same from Penelope. But while he could sense a that a shift had occurred between them, he could not think of a logical reasoning for its occurrence. So, for months, he foolishly held on to hope that he was simply over-thinking Penelope’s silence, that all would be well once they could speak to each other in person again. 

“Mr. Bridgerton,” she had called him, the night of the Queen’s inaugural ball. Her eyes apathetic, her voice cool. The fact that she had run out of every room he had walked through that night should have been the first clue that his suspicions were correct, that something of significance had changed between them. But Colin has a tendency to overlook those sorts of details. 

“Miss Featherington,” he calls to her now. 

Penelope’s head turns quickly, a look of surprise on her face. Although Colin’s eyes have been transfixed on her all night, clearly she was unaware of his presence. 

“Colin?” she says quickly, the surprise carrying through to her voice. He tries to suppress a grin when he hears his name on her lips.

“It is getting quite late,” Colin says, taking his eyes off of her for just a second to glance at the old man. He’s coughing up a storm a foot away from where they stood. “I was hoping you might save me a dance before the night is finished.” He looks down at the dance card tied around her gloved wrist. It looks disappointingly full. 

“I believe the lady said she was about to retire —” 

“Yes. I believe I have one dance left in me,” she says, cutting the old man off. Colin is so pleasantly surprised that his brain seems to stop working for a moment. Then Penelope’s hand is in his, leading him towards the other side of the dance floor. 

“Thank you,” she says when they take their places standing across from one another. 

“Whatever for?” he says, a smirk on his face. The music starts. Colin pulls Penelope, hand already resting in his own, a few inches closer as their feet start to move in step. 

“For saving me from that…” she glances behind her. Michaelson is now walking towards the staircase at the back of the room, looking as though the distance might kill him.

“Walking corpse?” Penelope laughs in spite of herself. Colin considers it a win. 

Colin wants to tell her that he would save her from a million men like Jeremy Michaelson. He wants to tell her that he would do anything to make her happy, to protect her. He wants to tell her this, but he fears uttering those words aloud will only make it easier for him to let her down. Again. 

The music picks up and, despite the tension between them this past season, Colin can’t help but notice their movements are as natural as they ever were. It always feels natural with Pen, he supposes. 

About halfway through the dance, Colin notices Penelope’s attention float to the back of the room. His curiosity gets the better of him and he turns his head to figure out what she keeps glancing at. That’s when he sees Portia… speaking very closely with Jeremy Michaelson. 

Suppressing a groan from deep within his gut, Colin gently pulls his dance partner towards the other side of the room, towards the garden. As if taking Portia out of view could magically save Penelope from her mother’s scheming. The movement disrupts the flow of the dance floor, each other couple following the intended steps (Colin silently prays Anthony is not watching from the corner somewhere, or else he will surely receive a lecture on the embarrassment of improper dance etiquette later that night). But while Cressida Cowper may throw him a disgusted look for nearly stepping on her dress, Penelope does not miss a step. 

Once they land on the edge of the dance floor, Penelope squeezes his hand. Leaning in a bit closer, she says, “This hall is starting to feel a bit crowded, would you say?”

Colin’s brow furrows. What is she getting at? 

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

“I believe a stroll through the garden would be quite refreshing at this time of night,” she says, her eyes fixed on his intently. Earlier in the season, Penelope would have said something like this to avoid Colin’s company. The way she’s looking up at him now, her gaze open and uninterrupted… this is an invitation. Maybe there’s hope for them yet. 

He clears his throat. “Yes, and the perfect weather for star gazing.” 

The orchestra plays on. The other couples move in sync. Colin and Penelope exit the dance floor. No one notices them slip into the moonlight.

[thewriteflame]

15 Questions

Thank you @druidx for tagging me!

Open tag but also tagging: @emelkae @rayewritesfantasy @moonscribbler @moonandris

Here is the one I did for Jayme, today I will do his roommate, Takashti Clayson. Again I will basing the answers from around the start of And They Were Roommates.

---

After my interview with Jayme I decided to interview his roommate. He was far more difficult to get in touch with but after several attempts of talking with him and a plea from Jayme I found myself sitting in the same empty classroom, this time facing the infamous Whovian artist who had showed up before our scheduled time.

His light honey eyes seem to be in a perpetual state of annoyance, which does little to detract from a handsome face partially framed by a few strands of stray medium brown hair that has escaped his ponytail.

"Well, let's just get this over with." He tells me, gesturing to my recorder and notebook.

Are you named after anyone? 

Takashti looks taken back for a moment before recovering. "Uh, I don't know. My aunt never told me anything about how I got my name."

When was the last time you cried? 

He laughs. "Why would anyone want to know that about someone?"

Do you have kids? 

"Recently I feel I've had one thrust on me by the school system but I'm managing." He responds, jokingly. At least I think it's a joke.

Do you use sarcasm? 

"Only about a hundred times a day."

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

"Huh," Takashti thinks for a few moments. "Honestly, I don't really give it much thought beyond if they annoy me or not."

What’s your eye color?

"Brown," He says, gesturing as if it was the dumbest question ever asked.

Scary movies or happy endings?

"I'm fine with scary movies. I don't really care how it ends as long as the story is good." He suddenly sits forward a little as if to share a secret. "Actually, I have a soft spot for scary media, especially if it has weeping angels. Plus I've realized that they keep tha- uh, Jayme away so I can get some peace and quiet for once."

Any special talents?

"Mostly drawing, painting, and sarcasm. I have yet to master the art of getting out of social obligations."

Where were you born?

Again Takashti is taken back. "Uh, I'm not sure. Somewhere in California, I think." He mutters under his breath, "I could have been born on Mars and no one would bother to tell me."

What are your hobbies?

"Art- namely drawing and painting, reading, watching sci-fi shows, you know." He points to his bag at his feet that has a TARDIS and little robot dog painted on the flap. The rest of it has various muted- and dare I say ugly- colored stripes, making it seem to have come out of the 70s. "I've made and sold several custom bags based on the different Doctors. I made this one based on the Fourth."

Have you any pets?

He chuckles before answering, "Jayme is a little like a dog that followed me home and won't leave."

What sports do you play/have played?

"Archery is fun and I was third in the school fencing team." He shrugs. "I could have been higher but I really only took it to keep Anna from annoying me with her insistence that I join some clubs and have an actual social life." "Anna? Is she your aunt?" I ask him. "Uh, no... she sort of adopted me." He avoids looking in my direction as he answers as if expecting each word to trigger an anvil to fall on him so I decide to move on.

How tall are you?

"Six foot, two inches, that's 185cm for every non-American." He responds, his relief to be on a different topic evident as his body relaxes a little.

Favorite subject in school?

"This probably won't be a surprise but science, especially physics. I also enjoy English, world history, and- of course- all the art classes. Math isn't too bad, either, now that I'm thinking about it." He pauses for a second, his ears reddening as he sheepishly smile. "I guess I'm just a school junkie."

Dream job?

Takashti squints as he thinks. "I'm not entirely sure." He shrugs. "I like learning and painting so anything that lets me do both."

[amajorartattack]

Hey...How y'all doin? It's been a while since I've posted some art on here, hasn't it. Well you're in luck, cause I've drawn some more Trolls! I know I said I was working on a comic for Sigil's backstory, and I still wanna get it done, I just haven't had a lot of the gung-ho energy to draw a lot of stuff for Sigil and all that. I still absolutely want to work on his story, I'm just in art groups on dA and there are a lot of events that I want to participate in, but that kinda leads to me being burnt out and just yeah. But lookie here, instead of the comic I was talking about. I made a more up to date ref for Sigil, with my newer artstyle, plus some information that wasn't included beforehand.

CW: Noose scars implying attempted suicide, scars across Sigil's body

So because I know my handwriting is fairly shitty, I'll just give a lil rundown of all that is added.

Sigil's Hugtime Bracelet. He gets it in the future, canonically after the end of Band Together. The colors are the same colors as Austin, Jace, and Muse's eye colors. It rings every hour, and often leads to group hugs between all of the band members.

Front and Back images. There's three of them because they're all colors that he has or will be shown with, the third one is "True Colors" in quotes because they're not like his actual true colors, but they are as close as he's ever going to get canonically. The middle one is shown a few times, it's where he's transitioning between his grey colors and "true colors," whether he's going to or from grey. When going from grey, their body colors fade in from the outside inward, while their hair colors fade middle outward. When going to grey, the colors fade out in reverse of from grey.

Mannequins showcasing clothing. I have a friend in one of my art groups who made mannequins of the group species to showcase clothing, and I was inspired by them to make a Trolls mannequin to be able to showcase my characters clothing. They just show off the two different outfits that Sigil has, which are their everyday outfit, with the hoodie and sweatpants, and their performing outfit, which is a tank top and jean-esque sweatpants.

Palettes for everything, even Sigil's "True Colors." I am someone who likes making sure I include palettes so that you don't have to color pick from the images themselves. It's important to me to include palettes, so that way color picking is easy. I had initially omitted Sigil's "True Colors" palette when I made the first drawing/ref of them, because it was an important plot point, and I wanted for people to draw him in their grey palette, if anyone ever wanted to draw him. But I'm fine with sharing it, because it'd probably help make sense of the color changes, y'know. All the colors are a 1-1 change, so like the colors for the scars are the third color down on each palette, even if the colors don't line up because I wasn't perfect with it.

All of Sigil's scars are showcased, choker-less Sigil. I thought it was important to show all of Sigil's scars, even if it hasn't been shown as to how he got them. It can be very easily figured out how he got the noose scar around his neck, but all of his other scars would probably need explaining.

Sigil's Identity flags! One of my favorite things to include in a detailed ref is my characters identity flags. Sigil is gay and a demi-boy person, and under the demi-boy flag are their pronouns.

Sorry for just so much text, I just have a lot of things to say, and I very much enjoy talking about my characters, I could talk for days about this guy. I hope y'all don't mind.

[mostly-comfort]

hello again!

i've been able to dm sideblogs in the past/people have been able to dm mine, but maybe that changed, weird and sad lmao oh well :')

i'm happy to continue in asks then ^-^

pete's hair is indeed streaky in some art! they're trauma streaks, pete got caught by hunters (shifting phases' premise), and he survived and escaped with the help of his friends, but not before having his whole life destroyed :)

pre trauma, pete's hair is solid auburn and kept short, he still has the jaw scar

post trauma, he's covered in scars and his hair is streaky, it also grows out because he cant cut it and wont let anyone cut it because he has big issues about the sight of blades and their proximity to him :) (in terms of scars, 95% (i say that coz i havent written out the Torture yet so i might do some fun unexpected unforseeable things ehe) of the ones that are relevant to bust-shots are already mapped out on the ref sheet :) )

and! indeed he has lil teefs! they're not big or long or anything, but they're definitely there and definitely pointier and sharper than a human's canines :) i drew them a few months back, im a stranger to teeth so everything may look right on the surface, but there may be technical issues 8) his teeth appear normal aside from the canines, and then he's got those standard, surprisingly pointy human pre(?)molars, but the canines just make em look extra sharp lmao

oh! and claws, pete has claws, i have 0 idea if you or i mentioned, or if it's on his profile (i cant save an ask as a draft unfortunately and i cant open tabs on the mobile so im really living ip to my name lmao), but he has claws! they are very fun :) they look and grow like regular human nails except that they're very much in the shape of sharp claws with a sharp edge. what he used to do, again, when he could stand the sight of blades was, very literally carve them into the shape of human nails. he can't do that after his trauma :)))))

i'm writing this out on mobile so im not entirely sure if i missed anything, so, if you have more questions or need some more specific deets, feel free to hit me up any time ^-^

also ty ^-^ it's pretty detailed because i may or may not obsess exclusively over this universe, boi, and cluster of concepts haha.... 8)

oh and btw, your boi looks *very* scrummy, poor thing suffering those functional cognitive issues, not a fun time :') thoughts.exe got uninstalled and he's having a hard time, but at least plants have his back <3 i bet he'd have a whole HEAP of emotion tho >:)

that's everything i can think of, good-timezone ^-^

aaaa thank you for all the info!! i found out that u can't dm with sideblogs if they're shared by 2 or more accounts, which is what i did in an attempt to move everything to a new account LOL

i'm very interested in drawing him post-trauma especially, i love how there's so many things, both internal and external, affected by his capture!

he wants to do his best 😭 he's the goodest boy idc what those mean humans said otherwise

ty again!!

[frauleinfunf]

I made fankids for the first time in my life help

I went from saying I don't ship Huntlow to making fankids for the first time in my 26 years of life all in the span of a month Owl House what have you done to me. Notes: I used a picrew (ask if u want the link) bc I can't draw and am hella in favor of the headcanon that Hunter takes Willow's last name

Meadow Park

15

Oracle, Abomination, and Construction tracks

Top of her classes

Has had an obsession with death from an early age, related to how much it marked her father's side of the family

Wants to open a funeral home where the deceased can have direct input on their own funeral

Regularly uses Ouija boards to chat with the previous Golden Guards, started doing this when she was little bc she thought they must be lonely with almost no one to remember them

When she was 5 and held her little brother for the first time, she said "I've only had Ashe for a few minutes, but if anything were to happen to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself."

She scared the absolute shit of everyone in the room that day.

Tbh she still scares the shit out of Mattholomule. He and Gus are the least likely to volunteer to babysit, though Gus thinks Matt is overreacting

In spite of her detached and spooky exterior, she's actually very sensitive and is hurt that people are so afraid her

Her parents, who understand the pain of ostracization all too well, assure her she's perfect the way she is and that she'll find her people someday

Made those telepathy stones so she and her brother could chat while in their respective classes

Her reputation does come in handy is if anyone tries to pick on her brother, all she has to do to make sure they don't mess with him is walk up to them and ask why they're bothering him

Ashe Park

10

Healing and Plant tracks

Solid B+ average

Has an interest in wild magic that mainly manifests in the ways nature can be used for healing

When he was very young and learned what scars were, he cried over the fact that his parents and their friends had gotten hurt and wanted to make sure no one he loved got hurt again

A vry sweet boy that can be somewhat airheaded at times

He always 100% trusts ppl he just met

His parents love his compassionate nature but are also exasperated by the eighth time he needs a new scroll bc he fell for a phishing attempt

Absolutely adores his sister and doesn't even seem to be aware that most people are afraid of her

He's a huge crybaby and once cried over accidentally stepping on a flower and tried to hold a funeral for it before Willow perked it back up

Might be a huge softie but would 100% murder baby Belos if given a time pool (wouldn't have considered that he would probably cease to exist if he did that)

Is actually a talented baker and makes delicious fairy pies

Loves spending time with Tia Luz and shares her love of friendship and Azura books

[lick-me-lennon22]

How they calm you down when you're very stressed/having a breakdown 💜

thanks so much to @betchq who requested this one! hope you enjoy :) 💕

(these ended up wayyy too long.. whoops :P)

Paul:

it's all too much- you can't take it anymore

one minute you're sitting on the bed venting to Paul about work and family troubles- frustrated, but not devastated- and suddenly you've spiraled again

you're practically hyperventilating, gripping the duvet so hard your knuckles turn white, sobbing about how unfair the world is and how you'll never truly be happy

"Woah, woah, what's this all about darling?" he interjects tenderly, a gentle finger lifting your chin up to look at him, briefly breaking you from the hope-devouring clutches of your panicked mind

"It's -*hic*- just too m-much to handle Paul, I -*hic*- c-cant do it anymore," you manage to squeak out between sobs, your voice wavering and your lip quivering

Paul gazes into your tear-filled eyes, scanning them with his own in an attempt to gain understanding, a deeply concerned expression on his face

he places a firm, loving hand on each of your shoulders, eyes still locked on yours

"Listen to me, my love- nothing, and I mean nothing, is so wrong or bad that you can't take it on, or that this world would be better off without you. I know things are difficult for ye right now and it's completely understandable that you're overwhelmed- but you will get through this. And I will stay glued to your side every step of the way"

you inhale shakily, the cascade of tears that once flowed down your cheeks slowing to a halt as Paul continues his pep talk:

"Regardless of how daunting and scary it seems and no matter what it takes, you are going to be okay- more than okay, you are going to get through this and emerge from it even better off and happier than ever before. Ye hear me?" he says sincerely- his gaze stern, piercing, and comforting all at the same time

you nod slowly, eyes glimmering with residual tears, and sniffle once more

"You are the strongest, most capable, and most resilient person I know. I don't ever want you to feel that the days are becoming too heavy for you to handle. And if you do you know you can always, always come to me, no matter how insignificant you think your struggles are- they're not. I don't care if I'm 'busy,' nothing ever takes priority over you and your wellbeing, Y/N. I mean that."

you smile up at him with appreciation as he wipes your cheeks with his thumbs

"T-Thank you, Paul. It all just gets so overwhelming.. I don't know what I'd do without you"

"It's no trouble at all love, that's me job"- he gives you a small smile and pulls you in for a long, gentle hug

"I adore you Y/N, you are my whole world. Promise you'll come to me if you ever feel this way again?"

you nuzzle into Paul's chest: "I promise"

"That's my (girl/boy/love). I love you more than anything in this world- don't you ever forget that" ♡

John:

you don't even hear the front door open and shut, the sound drowned out by your sobs combined with the melancholy tunes coming from the record player on your dresser

"Y/N, I'm home!" John calls out, kicking off his shoes and coming to find you

he searches for you on the couch, at the dining room table, and then in the kitchen- but you're nowhere to be found

That's strange, he thinks, Y/N's almost always sat on the couch waiting for me when I come home...

"Where's my sweet birdie?~" he tries, striding briskly down the hallway to your shared bedroom, still in pursuit of his partner

John raps his knuckles against the wooden door and waits a few moments for a response

when he doesn't get one he turns the doorknob and pushes his way in, panic flooding his mind and senses

nothing could have prepared John for what he sees- the love of his life curled up fetal-style in bed, clutching the blanket for dear life, cheeks glistening with tears and features screwed up into an agonized expression

he rushes to your side immediately, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and shaking you softly to alert you of his presence

he spooks you and you startle, eyes snapping open in shock

"Are you alright, love? What happened- did somebody hurt you?? If someone upset ye I swear I'll make 'em rue the day they were born-" he seethes, interrupted only by you sitting up against the pillows and taking his hand in yours:

"J-John, calm down, I'm fine.."

"Did.. did I do something? Was it me? Tell me what I did wrong Y/N, whatever it is I'll fix it I promi-"

"No John, you've done everything right," you sigh

"It's j-just.." you trail off, unable to meet his gaze

he waits for a moment before encouraging you with a "Go on darling, you can tell me anything"

you take a deep, shaky breath before continuing- "Everything is so overwhelming and heavy.. just living feels like too much some days. I don't know what to do John, I'm downright miserable!!" you exclaim, your eyes once again welling up with tears

"..Oh sweetheart, come here" he opens his strong arms, pulling you in for an emotionally charged hug

John isn't the greatest at discussing feelings, so he offers comforting words instead

"Shh, everything's alright... I'm here, Johnny's got ye" he soothes, stroking your hair as you quiver in his arms, your body wracked with sobs

"I-It's just one of those days where I don't know how I'll ever b-be -*hic*- happy" you croak out, clutching his body close to yours

John draws in a deep breath before responding: "I understand how you feel- I've had plenty of those days meself," he confides in you

"But we can't let them stop us from living. Sometimes your perspective gets all screwed up and ye can't see through the bullshit your mind hurls at you,

"But one bad day is still just twenty-four hours, ye know? It helps me to think about that- that this too shall pass," he reassures you candidly, rubbing gentle circles into your back

"I know it seems impossible right now, but you'll- we'll," he corrects, "get everything sorted- including that pretty little 'ead of yours- and you'll feel like yourself again sooner than you know. Got that?" he asks

you simply nod, beginning to calm down but unable to speak just yet, and nuzzle further into John

he squeezes you tightly: "Y/N- ye know I know what it feels like to be stressed and depressed, and I just.." you hear John start to choke up and feel him tremble as he begins to cry, himself

"-ah don't ever want ye to feel hopeless like I 'ave, you know I'd take it all away in an instant if I could" he says, trying and failing to mask the wavering of his voice

"Even if it meant I'd have to take it all on meself instead, I can handle it- I'd do anything for you Y/N, I've never loved anyone or anything like I do you and it hurts me to see you in such pain"

John's voice breaks at the end of his monologue and you hear him sniffle

with that, you finally speak up: "Oh John, I'll be okay- I promise. Thank you for changing my perspective, it's just so difficult to pull yourself out of despair sometimes.. some days are just so.. heavy" you say, pulling back and looking up at him; "I didn't mean to make you cry too"

you dry your face with your sleeve and John takes your hands in his

"Y/N you know I understand completely, and I want ye to come right to me when the days get too overwhelming- I'll be sure to set your perspective straight. Don't you ever worry about making me upset or anythin' of the like, okay love?"

you nod- "And besides, I ain't crying" John says somewhat defensively and shifts his gaze away from you, still clutching your hands in his larger ones

you chuckle softly and roll your eyes at him- "Whatever you say Johnny.. you can't fool me, I know you're a softie" you tease, booping him gently on the nose

he pulls one hand back from yours, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly- "Yeah, yeah, that's enough" John says, expression hardening as he tries to disguise the grin making its way across his face

you place a hand on his cheek and turn his face to look at you

"Thank you, John. I feel so much lighter now"

"Ahh, don't mention it darling. Anytime at all- you mean the world to me. I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, John." ♡

George:

to your boyfriend George, it's a day like any other

he walks down the hallway to your shared bedroom, fizzy drink in hand, intent on watching some cartoons in bed with you

he knocks and upon hearing your, "Come in!" enters the room with an "'Ello, gorgeous!"

"Room for one more? I was thinking we could have a cartoon marathon this evening- what do ye think?" he proposes, approaching you and taking a sip of his drink

you hesitate a moment before answering: "Yeah, that's fine Geo" you say flatly, punctuated with a quiet sniffle

"...Are you feeling alright, dear? What's got you down?"

George sets his glass on the nightstand and sits beside you in bed

"Nothing's the matter babe, I'm okay" you mutter unconvincingly, avoiding eye contact

George studies your face, just now noticing the red and puffy appearance of your eyes

"Have you been crying..?" he asks gingerly and places a gentle hand on your cheek

you finally turn to look at him, sighing: "...yes but before you freak out, it's really nothing- just one of those days, you know?" you offer George a weak smile, downplaying your stress

"Y/N." he begins sternly, "I can tell when something's wrong. Do you want to tell me about it, doll?"

"I would, but there really isn't much to talk about... it's just life, I guess. Nothing specific" you shrug

"It's not 'just' anything- if it matters to you, it matters just as much to me," George reassures you sweetly

"Thank you Geo, but I don't know what to tell you. I just feel...tense and pessimistic, you know?"

George nods in understanding: "Really just that sort of day then, eh? That's the worst- ye can't target anything to fix it," he sympathizes and you nod in agreement

"Tell you what- I don't care if it takes all night, I'm gonna do whatever it is I can to make you feel comfortable and calm, all right? Starting with getting some food in ya- I know that always makes me feel better" he grins

you offer him a half-hearted smile, as much as you can muster in your state

"Of course it does, George" you chuckle, "that sounds lovely"

George disappears down the hall and returns just moments later kicking the door open, arms full of snacks and sweets (including jelly babies)

your face lights up at the sight of him

he unloads everything, opening his arms and dumping it all on the bed for you to choose whichever item you please

"Thank you, Geo" you giggle and grab one of the bags of crisps, opening it and promptly reaching in for a handful to munch on

"Anything else I can get you, darling? Anything at all?"

"Hmm.. no, I don't think so-" you start, but George cuts you off before you can finish your sentence

"Oh I know! You need a nice, warm cuppa- that'll be sure to soothe you. Be right back, love" he says and with that, he's out the door once more

you wait patiently in bed for a few minutes and graze on the treats George had brought you until he reappears, a ceramic mug in one hand and a box of tissues in the other

"Here you are dear," he says, handing the mug to you and placing the tissues on your nightstand- "I thought you might need these"

"You really didn't have to do all this, my love- thank you. It really warms my heart" you tell him earnestly, "I already feel so much better"

George beams at you: "Of course gorgeous, it's no trouble at all. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Hmm..." you contemplate his question for a moment before responding- "Just one more thing, I think"

"What is it, Y/N? Anything at all, just say the word"

"Get over here and cuddle me!"- you lift the blanket and invite him to lay with you

"I thought you'd never ask" George says cheekily and hops into bed, pulling you close to his chest to spoon you

(and reaching over you to grab an overflowing handful of crisps, shoveling them into his mouth)

you can't help but laugh and snuggle into George, your worries forgotten

"Thank you, Geo. You're the best"

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't look after my (girl/boy/love)? And besides, it's no inconvenience at all- don't you worry. I love you, Y/N"

"And I love you, George" ♡

Ringo:

Ringo has always made you feel safe, heard, and loved, and he's assured you that you can confide in him whenever you need to

he's made it a point to tell you to come to him whenever you need him, and that he'll drop everything to help you in any way he can

on one particular evening, nothing seems to be going right for you

you're beyond stressed and overwhelmed, and you can't help but break down from the pressure and weight of the world

at first when you step out into the living room, face red and tear-streaked, Ringo is oblivious

he carries on watching the television, gaze locked onto the technicolor screen

"Ritchie..?" you say meekly; "What is it, my love?" he calls out, eyes still fixed on the telly

upon seeing how invested he is in the program, you suddenly feel like a burden despite what he's told you numerous times before about coming to him when you're upset

"Umm.. nevermind" you squeak out, about to turn and drag yourself back to the bedroom when Ringo finally whips his head around to face you

his wide eyes take in your pathetic, hunched frame- hair tousled, eyes puffy and blanket pulled tight around you

"Oh my- sweetheart, are you okay? What's wrong?" he scrambles up off of the sofa and rushes over to you, panic evident in his expression

he places his hands on your shoulders and looks you over, eyes searching yours for answers

"Yeah, I'm okay" you sniffle, "but.. remember all those times you told me I should come to you if I'm ever stressed out?"

"Of course I do love, what's got you so stressed?" he inquires delicately, rubbing your shoulders

"Life, existence, everything!" you confess, exhausted

"Oh honey, everything's alright- I promise! Come here" Ringo beckons you closer and smothers you in one of his renowned bear hugs

you begin to sob quietly into his shirt

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me today, I don't want to burden you-"

"Love, don't you ever worry about being overbearing or burdening me- I am always ready and willing to help you, please understand that. Managing your stress is so important and I'm thankful that ye came to me. That's what I'm here for" he reassures you as he holds you close to him

you sniffle and tremble, your tears soaking through his cotton t-shirt

"Shh, everything's going to be fine. It's okay to cry" Ringo soothes

"It's just a bad day. It doesn't mean that everything is falling apart, I promise. I'm right here. We've got this, together- you and I could take on the whole world if we had to!"

you pull back from his embrace and gaze into his eyes; "Really?"

"Of course we could, baby! Now let's get you to bed, how about that?"

you nod and Ringo lifts you up, carrying you bridal style to your shared room and setting you down gently on the bed

he swaddles you in a blanket burrito and proceeds to kiss your tears away, peppering your face with little smooches that make your heart flutter and your mind go blank

"Ritchie!!" you exclaim, giggling

"What? Kisses are the best medicine"- you agree, as long as they're his at least

once he's finished administering your treatment, he asks: "What else can I fetch ye, cutie? Anything?"

"You!"

"Why, of course!" Ringo's grin widens, lighting up his face as he pulls you close to him in bed

you rest your head on his chest and close your eyes, the dull thud of his heartbeat lulling you into a serene state of mind

for the remainder of the night Ringo refuses to leave your side, even when you drift off into peaceful slumber at last

"I love you, Y/N" he mumbles, the last thought occupying his mind before he too dozes off to sleep ♡

[intheticklecloset]

Dare You To (SK8 the Infinity)

Summary: During a game of Uno Dare, Reki is challenged first not to smile and then - failing that - not to stop Langa from tickling him for a minute. When he fails the second time, the others decide a little playful punishment is in order.

A/N: YES!! I LOVE lee Reki! I love writing for him, that cute little ticklish redhead!! *ahem* Anyway, I've never heard of Dodge or Dare, and I honestly didn't feel like watching a clip of whatever show it's from to learn how it works, so I modified things just a tad, but I think I got the general idea of what you wanted in there. Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,758

~~~

“Ha! No way he’ll be able to do that,” Miya laughed, enjoying the way Reki’s face went red in response to both his challenge and the dare that had been put before him.

They were playing Uno Dare – a new take on the card game they were already familiar with – and so far, Reki wasn’t doing too great. He’d already failed to balance a single card on his head, stand on one foot until his next turn, and do ten push-ups in ten seconds. (Actually, he couldn’t even do ten, period.) And now Langa – who was seated on his right – had the audacity to play a dare card and dare him not to smile until his next turn.

“I can do it!” he insisted, pouting, shooting Miya and Langa a glare each. “It won’t be hard with you guys picking on me.”

Joe smirked at him, attempting to share a glance with Cherry, who promptly ignored him.

“Well? Take your turn,” the pink-haired skater said, gesturing to the pile.

Reki frowned, determined to win this dare so he wouldn’t have to draw another two cards. He already had more than anyone else in the circle. He glanced at his hand briefly, played a card, and stared at the discard pile. He didn’t want to see anyone’s faces. He didn’t want to accidentally slip up again. He would win this dare if it was the last thing he did.

Langa pinched his side.

“He-eey?!” Reki screeched, jolting to the side. Thankfully he was able to keep himself from smiling, but when he made eye contact with his friend it was difficult to keep a straight face. He saw the devious smirk and suddenly grew flustered. “D-Don’t…I know what you’re thinking, but don’t! That’s cheating!”

Cherry took his turn, which passed the flow of the game to Miya. But the evil little skater just sat there, smirking, watching Reki intently.

Langa reached for him again. Reki’s hand shot down to grab Langa’s wrist, the anticipation nearly forcing him to smile already, but he held firm.

“No tickling!” he cried when Langa’s other hand reached for him. Reki thought it was going for his side, but suddenly his friend shot down to his knee and squeezed, making him squeak. He broke into a wide smile in the split second before he could push Langa away and regain composure, but it was too late. With Miya watching him like a hawk, there was no hiding that he’d lost the dare.

“Told you!” Miya laughed again, taking the liberty of drawing two cards for Reki and handing them over. “Here, slime, take your punishment.”

“No way!” Reki exclaimed, looking around the circle at the two adults with them. “Langa cheated!”

“There’s nothing in the rules that says other players can’t try to mess with you,” Joe said, chuckling. “So technically, he didn’t cheat.”

Reki glared at Langa, who smiled calmly back at him, winking. The redhead demanded, “I want a do-over! Give me another dare, or let me try that one again without you cheating.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Langa replied. “I thought that had been established. Take your cards, Reki.”

“No!”

Cherry sighed, but Miya quickly piped in again before any of them could get scolded. “Fine, you big baby. How about this – if you can take Langa tickling you for one minute without fighting back or saying ‘stop,’ you don’t have to draw your two cards. That’s your new dare.”

Reki’s eyes widened. “What?!”

Langa laughed. “Oh, come now. You can take a minute, can’t you?”

“Of…of course I can!” Reki swallowed, setting his cards face-down in front of him and clenching his fists in his lap. “Bring it on!”

Miya pulled out his phone and got the timer set up, then counted down from three, and the challenge was on. Langa – sneaky, sneaky Langa – immediately slipped his hands under Reki’s shirt to scribble at his bare skin, skittering over his sides and lower ribs, and Reki burst into giggles, gripping his knees so he wouldn’t fight back on instinct. Langa was not going to make him lose two challenges in a row!

“You’ve always been super ticklish, Reki,” Langa purred into his ear, making him squeal and arch his back.

“Don’t – dohohohohn’t tehehehease me! Thahahat’s cheating, too!”

“Everything is cheating to you when you’re losing.” Langa smirked, moving gradually around to his belly, which they both knew was his worst spot. “Do you really think you can handle a whole minute of your tummy being tickled?”

Reki whined, starting to bring his arms in protectively but stopping himself just in time, squirming in place as Langa finally reached his weakest spot. “Hohohohohow muhuhuhuch lohohohonger?!”

Miya smirked. “You still have forty seconds.”

“Whahahahat? No wahahahahay!” Reki cried. Langa began to circle around his belly button, and his giggles grew into frantic cackles, his whole body shaking from the effort not to protect himself. “Plehehehehease, not thehehehehere, Langa!”

“Where? Here?” Langa dipped his finger into his friend’s navel, and Reki screamed, bringing his arms in at the same time he fell back onto the floor, pushing and kicking at his blue-haired friend.

Miya stopped the timer. “Dude, you lost again! How are you so ticklish?!”

“Shut up!” Reki snapped, blushing as he sat back up. “Fine, whatever, I’ll take the stupid cards. Let’s just move on.”

“No way!” Miya declared, putting his cards down as well and nearly lunging across the circle to tackle him back onto the floor, reaching up into his underarms in a flash. “As punishment, now you have to have two people tickle you!”

“Wha—?! Nohohohohohoho, Miyahahahaha!” Reki squealed, laughing all over again. He was just beginning to muster up the energy to push the little skater away when he suddenly felt fingers digging into his open belly once more, making him shriek and start thrashing more violently. “GOD, NOHOHOHOHOHO!! NOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!! NOT BOHOHOHOHOTH OF YOU!!”

“Tickle, tickle!” Miya taunted, grinning. He kept digging and scribbling in the redhead’s underarms while Langa got back to work scribbling over his belly and eventually digging into his navel again.

Reki bucked and thrashed and kicked, laughing up a storm but unable to get away. He was in the midst of pleading for mercy when he suddenly felt another weight on him – this one sitting on his legs, pinning them to the floor so he couldn’t kick.

“Jeez, kid, you’re gonna hurt somebody if you keep that up,” Joe’s teasing voice came from somewhere by his feet. Seconds later there were fingers scribbling over his soles.

“NONONO PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, NOHOHOHOHOHO!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Reki begged, laughter coming out in shrieky, uncontrolled bursts. He flailed his arms wildly, unable to do anything else at this point. “WHY?! I SAHAHAHAHAHAID I’D TAHAHAHAHAKE THE CARDS, YOU JEHEHEHEHEHERKS!!”

“Because it’s fun,” Langa replied, leaning down to blow a raspberry over his belly button. “Plus, if you let us tickle you a little more, we might even let you off the hook so you don’t have to draw any more cards.”

“LEHEHEHEHEHEHET YOU?!” Reki screamed. “I CAHAHAHAHAN’T STOP YOU!!”

“Oh! Well then, this should be a pretty easy win for you.” Langa blew another raspberry. “It’s unbelievable how ticklish your tummy is, Reki.”

“STOHOHOHOHOHOHOP CAHAHAHAHAHALLING IT THAHAHAHAHAHAT!!” Reki’s voice was pleading now, mirthful tears springing to his eyes for how hard he was laughing, having three spots tickled at once. “AND NO RAHAHAHAHAHASPBERRIES!!”

“You’re so picky,” Miya muttered, sliding down slightly to squeeze at his upper ribs.

Reki started to push him off, finally able to muster up some strength once his underarms were left alone, but that was the exact moment that Cherry decided to join in, grabbing his arms and pulling them above his head, pinning them down, doing nothing more than making him more helpless and watching his companions draw laugh after screaming laugh from his core, now that he couldn’t move almost at all.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Reki tossed his head back and screeched loudly, hysterically, unable to hold back or protest or anything anymore. All he could do was lie there and take it and hope desperately that they’d get bored soon and leave him alone. It was true – he was incredibly ticklish, but especially on the three spots that were being assaulted right now, and Reki wasn’t sure he’d be able to take much more of this impromptu tickle torture. “G-GUYS, NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

Miya smirked. “Tickle, tickle, slime~”

Langa blew another raspberry. “You’ve got such a cute, ticklish little tummy, Reki~”

“Your laugh is pretty great, dude, not gonna lie,” Joe added, still scribbling over his feet, his touch lighter than the other two’s. “Don’t know if I’ve ever heard you this happy before.”

“I CAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T!!” Reki cackled, a tear sliding down his cheek as he laughed helplessly. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! I GIVE!! I’LL TAHAHAHAHAHAKE THE CAHAHAHAHAHARDS!! GUYS!!!”

After another few seconds, the three of them silently agreed that they’d had their fun, and all four of them let Reki go, climbing off of him and releasing his limbs so he could curl into a ball, still giggling into the carpet.

“Aw, man!” Miya whined, drawing the redhead’s attention to him. “Look! All of his kicking ruined the game!”

It was true. There were Uno Dare cards splayed everywhere. No one could tell where one person’s cards ended and another’s began, and the draw and discard piles were intermixed as well.

“S-So you…you t-tortured me for…for nothing?” Reki gasped incredulously, pushing himself into a seated position, staring at the failure of a game before them. “What was the point, then?!”

“For fun,” Langa replied, gently nudging his shoulder with a smile. “Come on, you didn’t really hate that, did you?

Reki’s blush quickly spread all the way to his ears and neck. He hunched his shoulders and looked away. “Shut up, dude.”

“Cheer up, dude.” Langa pulled him into a hug, poking his sides sporadically to get him smiling and giggling again. “Tell you what, the next time we play you get a free pass on any dare, and you don’t have to draw any cards in place of it. I think you’ve earned that much, don’t you, Miya?”

Miya scoffed, but he was smiling. “Yeah, whatever. You get a free pass, slime.”

Reki giggled, squirming in Langa’s soft, tickly hug. “Okay, okahahahay, I’ll take it!”

The others smiled at him, Langa let him go, and they got to work gathering up the cards so they could shuffle and play again.

Miya handed him the deck. “Your turn to deal, loser.”

“What?!” Reki exclaimed.

Everyone laughed.

[rattyoakenbitch]

❝𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞❞ ─ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨

hey, it's not like you ever tried to stay . .

❥ content ; gn reader, angst, dark themes, yandere themes, toxic relationship

❥ warnings ; sxlf hxrm & mxtilation, swearing, verbal abuse, manipulation, slight nxdity lol

❥ synopsis ; all you wanted was his attention. and by the gods, you were going to get his attention by any means.

❥ a/n ; first mello fic (: i've been wanting to write something dark for a while and ig i finally got the opportunity lol. i thought i got out of my death note stage but i'm back, so please don't be afraid to send requests or ask to be added to my nonexistent taglist! alsoo while this oneshot does include s/h, i am in no way glorifying or romanticizing it!!! but i do tend to write angsty and dark fics. again, this is a work of fiction and i don't intend for anyone to take this too seriously and let this influence them.

The loud crash of a glass echoed throughout the room as a vase went flying through the air and collided with the wall, just a few feet from where you were standing.

You didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Didn't react. You were used to Mello's fits of rage by now, months into your relationship. If you could even call it that, at this point.

You knew Mello wouldn't dare lay a finger on you; if he did, he'd cut off his own hands and have live with the guilt forever, knowing he brought you harm. Which is why you didn't react.

However, he didn't seem to have a problem when it was only verbal.

"I don't fucking get you!" Mello spat harshly and continued to rant, "Why did you think that was okay?! Did you once consider how I felt?! I was worried sick that some asshole hurt you but you come back a day later and tell me you were at some boy's house!"

You only scoff, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner, eyeing the remaining shards of the vase carefully. Just like Mello, you were incredibly stubborn.

"Answer me, Y/N!"

"Okay, Mihael," you state cooly, using Mello's legal name and causing him to listen more intently. "First of all, I don't know what you expected me to do when you invited your weird mafia 'friends' over while I was trying to sleep. Second, he's not 'some boy', his name is Y/F/N and he's one of a few people I can trust. I don't know what you think of me."

"You could've gotten a hotel room, that's what!"

"With what money, Mihael?! What fucking money? You forced me to quit my job and then practically lock me up in this hell hole that I can't even call 'home' anymore!"

Mello huffed. "Pfft, you should be grateful. I've kept you safe all this time, away from the dangers of the world. You're alive because of me. Me. You're mine."

"Yeah, some fucking life, right?"

"I provide for you, I protect you from the monsters out in the world, but you still decide to go and whore yourself out to your little 'friend'," Mello sneered, his sharp voice dripping with venom.

You stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. All words, all arguments and nasty retorts expiring on your lips.

"I.." You start, but laugh pitifully. "I don't even know what you're saying. I don't know if you even know what you're saying. Honestly, Mello, just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore, you start spewing complete and utter bullshit out of your mouth." Mello's silence only egged you on. "It's no wonder Near always came in first place." Aaand there it was. You snapped.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Mello's eyes widened in anger at the mention of Near, reminding him of his inferiority.

In a completely different situation where he wasn't on the receiving end, Mello would be smiling proudly, listening to your clever retorts and comebacks. You've always been as stubborn and hot headed as him, and he really liked that about you, fuck that "opposites attract" bullshit. (I ACC LOVE THAT TROPE LOL IM SORRY) However, considering you were both extremely toxic people, it was far from entertaining when it was you who got in a fight with the other.

You didn't stop, though. If he was gonna play that who-could-be-more-toxic game, you weren't gonna back down.

"I don't know if it was the explosion or you've really always been that stupid, but you need to get the fuck over yourself and stop throwing tantrums when you find out that I have a life, too, and I have friends. Friends who actually give a damn."

You stare down each other in silence, a heavy tension hanging in the air. Still, after a few moments, Mello didn't make any effort to speak or react, other than walking out of the room.

Days, weeks went by. Mello hasn't spoken a word to you. Hasn't even looked in your direction when you passed each other or walked into the same room. You didn't exist anymore, and it worried you.

Mello was never like this. Within a few days or even hours after an argument, you would easily kiss and make up. Had you gone too far this time?

Besides the fact that Mello was intentionally giving you the cold shoulder, he was also busy with work, and was out of the house from midnight to early afternoon. During that time, you would stay at home and carry out your every day mundane tasks and chores.

Even now, you didn't seek comfort in your family or friends. You were either busy keeping the house clean, sleeping, or entertaining yourself on social media. But it was all a sad attempt to keep your mind occupied on anything else other than Mello.

And one day like any other where Mello was out doing whatever the hell mafia dudes do, you snapped. You decided you were sick of the silent treatment.

If Mello was gonna play dirty and ignore you, you were gonna give him something to react to.

Mello came home some time after sunset. Kicking off his boots as he walked in the front door, he immediately knew something was off. It was quiet - too quiet. Despite the fact that you were practically taking some sort of forced break after the argument, you acted the same. You went about your day and didn't bother acting shy or timid around Mello. You still hummed earworm pop songs to yourself or put on a podcast to fill the tense air. But now there was nothing. Just Mello, the walls, and the silence.

Mello cautiously walked around the house and searched for any signs of you, fearing the worst.

As he frantically looked around, he stopped abruptly at the sight of blood smeared onto the hallway wall.

Blood.

His heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears.

Then he noticed more blood. And more, smeared up on the wall, and eventually a trail picked up. He followed the bloody trail as it lead him through the hallway and stopped outside of your shared bedroom that he hasn't been inside for weeks.

Mello shakily inhaled and braced himself for whatever gruesome scene he would walk into.

He reached for the doorknob, twisting it and letting himself in.

Soon as he did, he ceased all motions, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to process what his eyes were showing him.

There, you sat on the bed, nothing on but your underwear and one of Mello's shirts. On one hand, you loosely held a pocket knife. On the other, you had your sleeve rolled up, your inner arm facing Mello's direction.

Your doe eyes looked up from the floor and met Mello's panicked ones. He was finally looking at you again. Despite the gorey setting and the stinging in your arm, you smiled. You were real to him again.

Multiple cuts oozed blood and trickled down your arm, onto your now dirtied clothes and the once satin white sheets below you.

As Mello got closer, silently freaking out, he could now see that these weren't just cuts - you carved out words. Sentences, onto your arm.

Among the many bloody 'I love you's' and pleads, one word stuck out to him.

It was his name.

He felt sick. Distraught. Guilty. Afraid.

"Y/N," he choked out shakily.

His gaze trailed up your arm, your body, and fixated onto your seemingly innocent face. Your face was rested and gentle, your eyes still staring up at him with adoration and desperation. If it weren't for the blood that painted your whole body and surroundings red, he would have found comfort in your presence.

"I did this.." You ran your fingers along your fresh wounds, not once wincing or drawing back in discomfort. "For you."

You continued, a sick sweetness in your voice. "Jus' wanted to show you how much I love you.. You've been leaving me so lonely, Mello." You frowned. "It was only a matter of time before I had to do something. And now you're finally here.. And you won't leave me again."

[missazura]

Was gonna PM you because I had some other NarryDesign! Questions I wanted to discuss so I could make clear ground rules in my brain, but this is oki-

I'm actually writing my own 3rd version of The Narrator, and just wanted to draw inspiration and guidance from your design, so going from that, does this fall under what you'd consider art theft even with credit, because if so, I'll pump the brakes right here, I aint about to pull that kinda stunt.

Right now, the drawings I have were just freehands of yours to get a feel for it, as he's an entirely new shape for me to attempt drawing, he's going to end up getting filtered through my own style eventually in order to be drawn repetitively and lots of things will change to be more original, (hopefully, if not the idea probably will die ;-;)

If you could lay out some ground rules and examples of what's cool with you and what isnt, I'd greatly appreciate it. The last thing I want is to ruin this for you by being one of Those Artists™

Unfortunately I have to stop you there, because I don't allow my Narrator design to be used as a base / starting point either. I know it's common for folks to start like that, especially for beginners, but I'm not comfortable of having my design used in that manner.

The ones I mentioned earlier about the design being stolen was like that. It's my Narrator but his clothes changed or his hair tweaked a bit differently, it still looks incredibly like him for the other 90%. I wasn't asked permission for it, and it incredibly irked me when I saw the art in the tags. Perhaps they were shy and afraid to do so, so I'm going to take this opportunity to make a blanket statement to say; I do not allow my Narrator design to be used as a base, to be tweaked and claimed as yours. If you made Stanley fanart which features my design as the Narrator, please credit me properly for it.

I've worked incredibly hard to design him THROUGH THE YEARS for him to look that way and I DO NOT allow him to be used up the same way you'd use a popular character design from existing media.

Now I don't own the concept of old man in sweater and glasses, but there's literally a bunch of other ways to portray said concept instead. The other narrators share that trait but still looked different from each other. My starting point looked incredibly similar to the other narrators I saw at the time, but I wasn't using anyone's specific fan design in mind for my current one to take off. It took a LOT of tweaking to make him look just right. To have my design used for yours makes me feel like you've entirely skipped the grueling design process I went through only to have people snatch it when he's done, and having his features changed to make him YOUR version feels straight up insulting. Hence why I don't recommend you use him as a base, I hope you understand.

And to be clear, I'm not mad at you. Thank you for asking my permission first and on what I'm comfortable/uncomfortable with, you're the first to do so and this is something that's been bugging me for the last few years that I never really got to talk about in full.

I can however give you pointers on how to make your own design if you wish to do so, I'm all open for that. I know designing isn't easy. That is why it feels upsetting when beginner artists take the easier route and use an already existing design as their own. I'm not holding a grudge against the others who made the mistake before, but a proper credit would've saved me from the grief I felt through the years.

[gone-to-fight-the-fairies]

Secret Santa

Summary: The BAU holds its first Secret Santa, and as fate has it, you pick your Spencer Reid. But you aren’t the only one with feelings. Gifts tell all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 1550+

A/n: We were going to do Secret Santa at work but shit hit the fan, and half of the people don’t want to give to the other half. So, I’ll substitute it with fiction. Please enjoy 🎅

Considering the amount of time the group spent working, finding everyone on the team that one perfect gift would be time-consuming. So, you suggested Secret Santa. 

Penelope loved the idea. She went around to gather everyone available and dragged them to the bullpen. Rossi, of the first to hear, offered his house to host the event on Christmas Eve. 

Gaining momentum, you pulled a piece of paper from your desk drawer and went to work. Most of the team gathered around to watch as your fingers folded the page into small rectangles and then tore at the edges. For each sliver of paper, you wrote a name for each member of the team. And then concealed the information by folding each piece. Morgan came back with a hat from lost and found. 

"Who wants to draw first?"

Morgan stepped up. He rubbed his hands together wickedly and drew from the hat, picking out a scrap. He revealed it to himself, keeping an even face. 

Penelope couldn't contain her excitement and pranced to you. Unlike the others, she didn't contain her thrill of the pick. You would guess Morgan, but there wouldn't be one person she wouldn't be happy to buy presents for. 

Prentiss stuck her hand in. She was smart enough to step back and wait to unfold hers when no one was watching. In a room full of profiles, one could never be too careful. 

Rossi didn't seem too thrilled with his pick but went back to stand beside Prentiss, trying to look over her shoulder at hers. 

JJ pretended to be selective, choosing one playfully to grab another one instead. She followed Emily's lead. Waiting until later to look. 

Reid was the last in the bullpen and stood off to the side, watching everyone else as they took their turns. 

"Reid?"

He bit his lip as he approached to pick between the last three. Once he pulled one, he unfolded it without concealing the corners of his lips. 

"Who'd you get, pretty boy?"

Spencer panicked, hiding the name in his fist so Morgan couldn’t peek. "That's not a part of the game."

"We have a case," Hotch called out from his office door. 

Morgan patted Reid on the back. There would definitely be more teasing later. 

The group filed into the meeting room one by one. Last, you extended the hat towards Hotch. Raising a brow, he diligently selected a scrap. He unfolded it and gave you a look. "Secret Santa?"

Nothing could fool him. When you smiled at Hotch sheepishly, he returned the smile, tucking the paper into his coat pocket and resumed his solemn expression. And you wondered if he'd picked you. 

You retrieved the last paper, putting it in your pocket for later. 

The flight back home was when you remembered the piece of paper. Luckily the case hadn't been long, or else you'd risk running it through the wash.  

As the others slept and rested, you chose the privacy of an empty row to unfold the paper.

Reid.

Of course. 

"Get somebody good?" Reid sat down across from you. And you entertained the thought that with his high IQ came with mind-reading capabilities. 

"Is there anyone bad?"

"I guess not."

You rested your cheek on your fist, staring at the scrap in concentration. "I don't know what to get them."

"You're lucky you looked at yours now. I've been worried about that the entire case. Slowed my reading speed down to ten-thousand words per minute."

You chuckle but offer your sincerest advice. "Whoever it is will love what you get them because it's from you."

"Thought that counts, right?"

You played with the paper between your fingers, and an idea popped up into your mind. "Right."

On Christmas Eve, everyone arrived at Rossi's home around seven. Rossi had spent the afternoon cooking an Italian dinner, and nothing had ever smelled more welcoming. 

Each team member discreetly left gifts on a table along the wall of the large window looking out onto Rossi's backyard, lit with twinkling Christmas lights. Presents varied in size, some wrapped, some bagged. Each gift with a tag addressed to who without the giver's name. It was more fun for profilers to guess. Though by the time everyone sat down, there were two fewer gifts than people present. 

"I'll go first," Rossi offered. Instead of going to the table to find his gift, he left the room, only to return with two handfuls of gift bags. "Merry Christmas." Rossi went around the table, handing a bag to each team member. When he gave you a bag, he beat answered your impending question. "What? I got myself." Returning to his seat as he continued. "So, I decided to get the same wine for everyone, since everyone depletes me at these gatherings."

"You should've picked from the hat again!" 

"You didn't say I could pick again." He sassed back. "Why doesn't someone else go? Reid?" 

Reid pushes his chair back but halts as you place a pack of cards on the table. You hold up the box, showing everyone. "Normal pack, right?" Everyone watched with a curious look. You hold it out towards Reid with your left hand. But with your right, you wave it over the box, and it disappears. 

"You've picked up magic?!" Spencer radiated as you make the deck reappear, this time without the box. Everyone claps, and you bow in your seat. 

"I thought I may try and attempt to impress the great Spencer Reid. And I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve for later." You send him a wink. "Who's next?"

"Go, kid." Rossi encouraged you. You walk over to the presents. Penelope, Emily, and then you spot your name written on a medium-sized gift bag. It's not too light nor too heavy as you bring it back over to the table, taking a seat as you pull out the red and green tissue concealing it. 

It's a handbag. A cinched sack with a dusty rose print with a white stripe along the top. And a pristine designer name on the front. 

You'd seen this bag… somewhere. But the memory was fuzzy. 

"Wooooah." JJ is the first to see the label. "That's nice." 

Penelope leans over JJ and snatches your bag from your hands. "You would call a Guess bag nice. This is a beautiful, crafted stretch of the fabric!" Morgan and Emily are stretching their necks. While Hotch and Rossi's brows furrow at the hysteria.

You're scanning everyone's faces until you look across from your seat and see Reid, the only one unalarmed. 

"I don't get why people are willing to spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars on a single fashion accessory." Rodeo Drive. A case. You're walking down the street, passing by the rich, feeling like a have-not. 

"It says that the owner of said handbag is worth something," You say to Reid, stopping in front of a designer's display window. Mannequins are dressed in obnoxious attire, but you're staring at a dusty rose bag displayed on a pedestal. "If someone buys it for you, they're telling you that you're worth wasting a lot of money on. If you buy it for yourself… then you're telling yourself that you're worth that." You'd seen many designer handbags you wouldn't be caught dead wearing, let alone paying the price of a down payment. But this one is modern and… your style. You can't help but gravitate towards it.

"You like that bag." He isn't asking. It's a fact. 

"I don't like myself that much." You force yourself to keep walking, but Spencer lingers, looking at the handbag another moment. 

You push back your chair, excusing yourself from the party. You miss the way the team looked between themselves, eyes one by one landing on Reid, who was quick to follow you into the hallway. Reid’s footsteps are too familiar not to recognize. When you turned on your heels, you nearly crash into him. 

He was worried you would be mad, but your demeanor spoke the opposite. You would hardly meet his eye, lips pressed together in a straight line. 

"I gave you a magic show, and you got me a purse!"

"I liked your show!" Spencer affirmed. "I loved it, actually."

"Why did you get me that bag?"

"Because you're worth that much to me." Now his eyes diverted your gaze, and the meaning behind his words clicked. "If anyone else had gotten me for Secret Santa, they would've bought me a book. But you gave me something that will last me a lot longer than five minutes. Something no one else would get me."

"The opportunity to ridicule me until the end of time?"

"A new shared interest!" He corrected. "And… maybe we could see The Magic Duel downtown sometime. I hear they're good. A little too into the banter-"

"Like as a date?"

"Yeah," he breathes out with a smile. He'd been holding that thought too long, you notice. 

"Sounds like a plan." You grin back at him.

"But you're paying. That purse really wiped me out."

Your laughter breaks up the tension, and Spencer takes your hand, leading you back to the group. 

If buying an expensive purse hadn't shown you his true feelings, his willingness to touch another human's hand did. 

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck

Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.

Notes: Hello everyone, happy Fraxus Week. For the two bonus days, I've murged the prmopts together to make a two-shot. The second chapter will be uploaded on July the 22nd. I hope you all enjoy it, and head over to @fuckyeahfraxus to see all the other content for the event.

Links: Chapter Two ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Chapter One

Year: X782

Location: Magnolia, Fiore

Professional Wizardry was still new to Freed. He hadn't wandered into the profession without the expectation that he'd be forced to do things that previously would have been unthinkable, or that his life wouldn't change entirely the moment he had joined a guild, but he felt like he was learning a new aspect to his profession every day. His expectations of the job and the reality of the job was almost entirely different, and Freed found himself enjoying the challenge.

He'd thought he'd be on missions near constantly. He'd go to some place in Fiore, use his magic to fight off a monster or dark wizard, and get paid for it. He hadn't expected there to be a community attached to it, that they'd be such a rigid tier system of missions, and how missions could be anything from finding a lost item, to being on a team attempting to disband a cult. There was so much more, and it was all fascinating.

After his eighteenth birthday three months prior, the jobs that he was allowed to accept had greatly opened up. They were more difficult, presented him with a greater threat to his life, and he was relishing the challenge. He could have gone on those missions earlier, but he much preferred working alone. While he was accepting that being in Fairy Tail meant there was a certain level of comradery with fellow guildmates, and that with that comradery there also came obligations, he didn't see the point in splitting his finances with others while he was powerful enough to perform these missions on his own and take home all the money himself.

The exception to this was Laxus Dreyar.

Master Makarov had approached Freed on his birthday with a proposition. He was worried for his grandson, wanted someone to look after him, and wondered if Freed would mind occasionally attending missions with him. He claimed that, while officially the money would be split between them, Makarov himself would make up the difference for Freed so that he would be paid in full. Freed had agreed, and that had been that.

Up until that afternoon, Freed had not gone on any missions with Laxus. They'd hardly spoken, even with Makarov's assurances that they'd get along. Freed would only be on certain missions and that afternoon's mission was apparently one of them. Makarov told Laxus Freed needed training in more advanced missions, and that he should be the one to do it. Laxus hadn't argued.

Somehow, while attending to a supposedly A-Class mission, they found themselves in Magnolia's hot spring and spa resort.

It was surveillance, so the mission stated. The Rune Army themselves had place the job, stating that they believed that members of a potential dark guild were using the site to host meetings and plan attacks. The resort had been trying to get rid of the suspects but couldn't do so without putting their staff in danger, and having an army presence suddenly appearing would tip the dark guild off and give them time to hide all evidence. The Rune Army wanted mages from Magnolia who could plausibly be in the spa for leisure time, but could also defend themselves from attack, to watch them for suspicious activity. Freed had a feeling that Laxus had taken the job to have a day relaxing in a spa, rather than because he felt the Rune Army needed the help.

None of this would have been a problem for Freed – he'd long since accepted that what constituted a job was a wide array of things – if it weren't for the elephant in the room. Or to be more precise, the Adonis wearing nothing but swimming trunks in the room.

Freed was a professional, but he was also eighteen years old and in the presence of an undeniably handsome man. Nobody, no matter their opinions on Laxus, would state that he was anything but sexy. Tall, blonde, square jawed, barrel chested with a scar over his eye and a tattoo over his pecs. His abs looked to be cut from steel and his legs comparable to tree trunks and, well, Freed was only human. Laxus was distracting.

"So," Laxus suddenly spoke as he slung a towel over his shoulder. "I don't exactly know what Gramps wants you to learn from this, but I'll try and teach ya some shit. Surveillance rule number one: fit in with yer surroundings. You seem pretty good at that."

It was only a moment, but Laxus' assessing gaze over Freed's body was exhilarating. But unprofessional.

Laxus didn't seem to notice, and instead started to walk out of the locker room they'd both changed in, and towards the area where they were meant to be watching. Freed followed, making sure to look straight ahead, rather than give into temptation to check out the man's back and his ass, and it wasn't a difficult task. While Freed had no qualms admitting his attraction to the blonde, he knew where his focus needed to be put. The mission was important, not his hormonal desire for his guildmate.

"That's the door we need to watch," Laxus said as he tilted his head to the door. Freed knew that of course, but Laxus was speaking again before he could say anything. "Pretty open room, lots of vantage points. Where should we go?"

Ah, it was a test then. Good, a worthy distraction and hopefully it would nip any ideas that Freed was in some way Laxus' inferior in the bud. Freed looked around the room quickly, glanced towards the door that they needed to keep in their sights, and quickly made a plan of how the rest of the day would go. Strategy was his strong suit.

"The hot tub," He said firmly. "At least for now."

"Why only for now?" Laxus asked. There was no condensation in his tone, he was simply asking for Freed's reasoning.

"Staying in the same place throughout the afternoon would be suspicious. We know who the suspects are, but that doesn't mean they're the only people involved, so we need to look like regular customers constantly," Freed explained, speaking quietly as they walked further into the room. "As we've only just got here, it makes sense for us to use a facility instantly. Going to sit by the pool or at the juice bar would be odd, at least for now. The massage tables and spa treatments are too distracting, but the hot tub allows us to sit and watch without anyone questioning it. It'll give us the lay of the land without drawing any attention on us."

"And we both have to do it?" Laxus probed. "Wouldn't it make more sense to split up and cover more ground.

"Later," Freed dismissed. "We came in together; we'll need to do things at the same time at least once in a while. As I said, the treatments are distracting and as such we should do them one at a time rather than simultaneously. If we spend the whole day apart after we've arrived together, it'll raise suspicion. The hot tub is a good vantage point, and so a good way to be seen together while not losing an advantage."

Laxus thought for a moment, before nodding, clasping Freed on the bare shoulder, and giving him the smallest of grins. "Yer good at this."

"Of course I am," Freed retorted, and that seemed to make Laxus grin wider.

They walked towards the hot tub, which was at the back wall, attached to the main pool. As it was a Tuesday afternoon, only a few people were loitering around the resort and the hot tub was empty. Freed placed his towel on the handle provided and walked into the hot tub, soaking his entire body sans his head in the hot, bubbling water. His muscles relaxed instantly, and he felt himself slinking down ever so slightly.

"You ain't here to relax," Laxus said in a voice almost teasing as he climbed the stairs into the tub. "Eyes on the mission, remember."

Freed went to point out that, given Laxus was looking at him rather than at the door, he was just as distracted. But Laxus chose that moment to sit down, submerging his chest in water and spreading his arms wide. His left hand was close to Freed's shoulder, and Freed felt that it was an act of great resilience that he didn't give into base urges and watch Laxus as he adjusted to his relaxed, wet – very very wet – state.

"I will if you will," Freed eventually said back, looking towards the door. He missed how Laxus' gaze lingered on his body just a little too long.

They fell into silence, and Freed made a genuine effort to keep his gaze away from the man who shared the hot tub with him. He truly hadn't thought this through. He hadn't realised that, as good as Laxus looked from afar, he looked better up-close. Maybe he should have denied the request to join the mission. And maybe he should have worn a looser swimsuit…

"So," Laxus said after a while, looking up at the ceiling for a moment to crack his neck. "How much is the old man paying you to spy on me?"

Freed halted, and removed his eyes from the door and looked towards Laxus. His face only, of course. "Excuse me."

"Rule two, you gotta trust the guys you're working with. So don't bullshit yer team members," Laxus said with a little grin. "Answer the question."

"For every mission that I do with you, he'll cover all the money you take from it, so I'm fully paid," Freed explained. He saw no point in lying.

"Guess we're gonna be doing some well-paying missions together then, if we wanna bleed the old bastard dry," Laxus smirked, and it was an oddly alluring look on the man. Freed looked away from it, and towards the door again. "You gonna tell him that I'm onto him?"

"I'd rather keep the deal up, I can get good money doing this," Freed shrugged, and he saw Laxus grinning a little from the corner of his eye. He tried not to pay attention to the expression, and instead focused on a man who could fit the description of a suspect. The man walked past the door, but that didn't mean he wasn't who they were looking for. "Why did you agree to this if you knew your grandfather wants reports on you?"

"Because it's gonna happen anyway, might as well accept it," Laxus shrugged. "I knew he was gonna get someone to do it, kinda glad that it's you."

"Why?"

"Because yer interesting," Laxus said, looking up at the ceiling again and closing his eyes as he lowered himself deeper into the water. Freed's gaze flickered low on the man's abs for a moment before looking to the door again. "We get a hell of a lot of mages joining Fairy Tail. Lots of people who think they're tough shit and wanna become the next powerhouse. Yer the only person I think whose got a chance of actually doing it."

The compliment was flattering. Laxus had something of a reputation for being generally rude and selfish, and either they were exaggerated or Laxus was making an exception. Freed felt it was a combination of both, but he accepted the compliment without complaint.

"You know my magic?" He asked.

"I've been keeping tabs on you since you came here, yer interesting," Laxus nodded, wading a hand through the water absently and sending ripples through the bubbles. "People give the darker magics a lot of shit. They're idiots. You can kick ass, and you're not bad to be around. Pretty much the opposite of a Fairy Tail mage right now."

"Does that opinion extend to you?"

"What d'you think?" Laxus asked with a cocky expression that Freed found himself enjoying.

"I wouldn't be here if I thought you weak."

"Good."

They fell into a silence, with the bubbling water warming Freed and making his muscles loose and relaxed. He kept a steady gaze on the door, making sure to avert his eyes when someone walked into the room, so his staring wasn't too obvious. It was a worthy distraction, and one well needed now that Laxus had apparently been watching him for all of eight months. That, combined with the fact that Laxus was wearing swimming trunks and was less than five feet away, could all become rather an issue if Freed didn't focus on anything else.

"Okay, your turn to relax now," Laxus said, cutting through Freed's thoughts. His voice was a little more relaxed. "You can't stay lookin' at the door all day. You'll get a crick in the neck."

"I'll be fine," Freed dismissed.

"Doesn't matter," Laxus stated, shifting slightly to get closer to Freed. It was to get a better view of the door, but the body heat that rivalled the warmth of the water was a noticeable feeling and Freed tensed. "Rule Three: lean on yer teammates. Sometimes you'll need to slack off, that ain't something to fight against. So long as someone in the team is on full alert it isn't too bad a problem. So sit back, close yer eyes, and let me take over for a while."

Freed was hesitant, but Laxus was clearly taking over keeping his gaze on the door, and Freed eventually found himself sliding down to further cover his body in water, and closed his eyes as relaxation flowed through him.

When his mind began to slip, Freed found himself thinking that Laxus was actually rather helpful. Freed wasn't quite so arrogant to think he knew everything about wizarding work, and an S-Class mage would have things to teach. Laxus especially would be useful to learn from, given their apparently similarities in working styles. Freed would need to learn how to work in a team, even if it wasn't fond of the idea, and Laxus might know how to offer actual advice rather than pointless mantras like 'your team should be your family' and other nonsense he'd heard from Fairy Tail. Without lying about why he was there, his team-ups with Laxus might be mutually beneficial.

Perhaps relaxing wasn't too bad an idea, either. Freed's mind had been somewhat consumed by his work. Finding a place to live as a seventeen-year-old had been difficult, and he'd put in a lot of effort in getting rent on time. But now he got better paying jobs, that urgency could fall away a little.

With a bit of effort, he tried to push the fact he was on a job to the back of his mind.

Once this whole thing was dealt with, maybe he would invest in a pass for the resort. In his preliminary research for the mission, he'd heard good things about the facilities, and even though he'd only been in the hot tub as of yet, he felt inclined to agree.

Though perhaps Laxus' company was partially to blame for his mood.

Fairy Tail had sometimes felt like a lonely place. Their focus on friendship, family and their revoltingly sentimental ideas about goodness were nice in principle, but when you were on the outside looking in it could get under your skin. Freed knew he was at fault for his lack of relationships with his guildmates, but perhaps Laxus might be a good starting point. Ironic, given that nearly everyone had told him Laxus was off-putting and rude.

The bubbles sent a pleasant chill over him, and Freed felt his tenseness ebbing away. When he got a pass for the resort, he'd have to explore the idea of a massage. He'd never thought it appealing, but perhaps he could be convinced.

There wouldn't be much convincing needed if Laxus were the one massaging him.

"Shit," Laxus hissed, and Freed's eyes whipped open. A rush of panic filled him that somehow he might have said that aloud, but the idea was ridiculous. He looked to Laxus to see worry flickering over him. "The suspect saw me looking, I think he went to get backup."

"Are you sure?" Freed asked, mind suddenly back on focus again.

"No, but we made eye contact. He's suspicious of me," Laxus was clenching his teeth, seemingly annoyed at himself. "We can't fuck it up, the Rune Army don't take shit like this lightly. We need a distraction or to get out."

"A distraction will be easier," Freed concluded. "Does he know for sure that we're looking out for him?"

"I wasn't being careful. I was watching him for about a full minute without being subtle. Pretty sure he knows it's not a passing glance."

"But that doesn't mean you know what he's doing, it just means you were looking at him," Freed mused aloud. "What if we throw him off the scent, give him another reason for why you were so focused on him."

"The hell would that be?" Laxus growled a little, and Freed scanned the room. They were the only two people in there now.

"Maybe you wanted him gone," Freed thought, plans forming in his head. Many of them he had to dismiss outright. "Perhaps if he sees something he wasn't meant to see, he'll think you were looking at him because you wanted him to leave."

"What the hell would I wanna do that I wouldn't want him seeing?" Laxus snapped, agitation rising. An idea came to Freed. It was good, it would get them out of the situation no doubt, but it might have a few repercussions in the future. Many arguments both for and against it flung through his mind, and his indecision must have been obvious, as Laxus continued talking a moment later. "Rule four, if a mission's going to shit and you think you can salvage it, you do it. So if you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them."

Freed went to open his mouth to explain his idea, but he heard movement from across the room and glanced towards the door. It was opening, and two more suspects were walking through it, stone-faced and angry.

Before he could second guess himself, he launched himself onto Laxus and began to kiss him.

It was a sloppy, energetic, and passionate kiss. Laxus was frozen for a few moments, but Freed forced himself to push on in the hope that Laxus was trying to understand what was happening. Laxus quickly started to kiss back, and a hand ran down Freed's back, pulling him close. Freed began to mess his hands through Laxus' hair, heart pounding and a ringing in his ears cutting through his panic. He couldn't think of how bad an idea this was, about how there were probably hundreds of other ways to deal with this, because rumours stated that the dark mages were powerful, and he didn't want to get into a fight he could avoid.

Kissing wasn't enough for his plan. People kissed all the time. They needed to get… intimate. Freed began to run his hands over Laxus' torso – damn was he strong – and he felt large hands groping at his ass in return. He gasped into the kiss, and forced himself to remember that it was just for the mission.

The sound of a door closing snapped him back to reality, and he glanced to the side without breaking the kiss to see the suspects had left. He pulled himself off of Laxus, to find he'd been dragged so he was straddling the man's thigh at some point, and turned away with a blush, panting quietly.

"Good plan," Laxus said, voice also breathless. "Think it threw them off."

"Yes," Freed agreed. He couldn't look towards Laxus now. He simply couldn't. "I'm sorry for doing-"

"Don't, you did what you had to do," Laxus cut him off, voice somewhat stern, which wasn't helping the situation. "I would've done the same if I thought of it, and you fixed my fuck up. So no complaints."

"Okay," Freed didn't feel any better. He stood up and reached for his towel, still not looking at Laxus. "I think I should sit at the juice bar for a while, we've been together for long enough."

"Wait," Laxus began, shifting slightly but Freed was climbing from the hot tub before he could reach for him. "This ain't- you don't have to leave on my account."

"I'm not," Freed lied. Because of course he was. Laxus might be straight, he might not like Freed, and he might not appreciate being kissed like that at random. "If we spend all out time in the hot tub, it'll look odd. It was overdue, more so now they've seen us."

Laxus looked ready to argue, but sighed and nodded. Freed walked towards the juice bar, fighting the urge to touch his lips. Electricity danced over them.

Kissing Laxus… it felt like being struck by lightning.