#Thought about trying to Color the rest and it was Too Much of a Daunting Task

[kiwipineappleparasol]

Happy 10th Anniversary to this uh.... Interactive Cutscene! I have been Struggling Lately so I decided to just color a Bit of an Old Scribble from Last Year (seen here)

[spctrsgf]

mi luz

based off of this comment i wrote on tiktok: “he looks like he could use a hug and a shoulder to cry on.”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: nonspidey!reader, language, hurt to comfort fic (miguel needs a break. like a sabbatical or something)

a/n: ngl, i'm not too happy with how this turned out, probably because i wrote it all on a plane and it's not beta read, but i need more soft miguel fics in my life!!!

He’s tired.

He’s tired and he’s missing you. The boring, monotonous walls of his office harshly remind him of his place, the jubilant orange glow of his monitors tell him of just how much more work he’s got left before he can finally retire to your world.

Lyla, lounging atop one of his screens, watches him and his glossed over eyes, knowing exactly what the lazy flick of his fingers meant. She sighs, glitching over to bring one of his screens forward. “Miguel!” She yells, scaring the poor man out of his thoughts and momentarily extending his claws. “Lyla, what the fu- what the hell?” He growls, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“No kids are here, you don’t have to keep it PG.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, you got work to do, and if you don’t finish it soon, it'll be too late to get in some quality time with this lovely human,” she shoves the digitized photo of you up and into his face. “Before your next mission.”

He sighs, knowing she was right.

“Daydreaming about it isn’t gonna get you there any quicker,” she flickers to be right in front of his face, slapping a hand onto his nose as if she could actually touch him. “GET YOUR SHIT DONE.”

“Fine, fine! Get out of my face.” He grumbles the second sentence, swatting her away and strolling back up to his screens. His eyes catch on your photo, and he reaches to enlarge it in front of him, but—

“No,” Lyla dissipates the photo before he can even get to it, face twisted in disappointment. “No. Not until you finish working.”

“Hey! Who’s the boss here?” 

“Me. Now work.” Lyla glitches out of view with a triumphant huff.

He huffs dramatically, pouting as he pulls himself together. He lets his emotions drop from his face and slides into his stoic mask, resuming the work on his screen. It’s hypnotizing as soon as he gets into it; Lyla must’ve done something to keep him focused, he supposes. She always does have a trick up her sleeve.

In what feels like no time at all, he’s done with his work. With a final, defiant tap to close down his screens, he spins on his heel, ready to leave and go home. Ready to hop in through your window— as much as you hate when he does that— and rest his head atop yours, caging you into where you’re surely stirring something on the stove.

But as he turns, he’s face to face with none other than Hobart Brown. A look to the left reveals his partners in crime; and Miguel knows he’s in for a ride. At least a ten minute detour, as it always is with the four of them. 

“What?” His hands come to rest on his hips naturally, trying to become bigger to them as if it would make the next words out of their mouth more blunt and less angering. “We have a slight problem—” Gwen starts, before Pav butts in.

“It's not slight. It’s a pretty big deal!”

“Mate,” Hobie huffs. “That’s not helpful.”

“I’m trying my best!”

"Yeah, and that's going great-"

“Okay, stop it, all of you,” Miguel interrupts before they can go down the rabbit hole, trying to keep his already strung thin patience steady. “What’s going on?”

“There’s another fight going on.” Hobie gives the answer blunt, to Miguel’s satisfaction.

“Cafeteria?”

“Main hall. Sector D.”

The huff that erupts from his lips draws a colorful picture of his current emotions as he hops off of his elevated platform. “I’ll fix it.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Miles brings himself to stand in front of the man. “We’re not gonna hurt anyone, right?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He brushes past the kid, dismissing him with a shake of the head. 

“Miguel. Don’t take your anger out on them–” Gwen tries, but all it gets is his recoil and daunting stalk towards her.

“I will do whatever the–” the swear word is on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down. “I will do whatever is needed, but violence is not my first course of action.”

“Please be nice to everyone,” Pav says, peeking over Gwen’s shoulder. “It’s been a long week for all of us too.”

Miguel sighs and brushes past them, saying nothing. He brushes off their words in silent agreement. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone either. 

By the time he reaches where he'd been informed the fight was, there was a mosh pit encircling the brawl, a mass of blue and red and spidermen. He approaches from behind, the tide parting for him as each person registers his presence.

When he meets the pearl in the oyster, the hotheaded spiderman hasn’t noticed him quite yet. He’s got the other spidey— one of the many spiderwomen— beneath him, gnarly fist raised to land another punch. Miguel sighs, grabs the back of the man’s elbow, and dragssss him off.

“Everyone get away now.” His tone squeezes the air out of the room and leaves no room for discussion, not that anyone would dare to object. The spidermen flee the scene before he can even finish his sentence, and by the time he’s turned back to the perpetrators of it all, they’re gone too.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, murmuring a low cálmate under his breath as he moves to regain his bearings. “Lyla,” he waves the said woman near.  “Find those spidermen and remind me to get to them when I come back.” She sputters to focus in front of him, dipping her head in an obliged nod before sputtering off again to wherever she found herself needed. 

Miguel shakes and unclenches the fist he’s made with his free hand and stalks back to his office, rubbing the palm of his hand where his claws had taken purchase amidst anger. 

Sometimes, he regrets putting himself in charge of all of this… shit.

But… he’s the only one who can do it. No one had the vigor, the dedication, the understanding of why and what had to be done to keep the multiverses in line and make sure what happened to him never happened again. 

It’s tiring. It takes his nights and his days and chips at his brain until he’s sure there’s nothing left in the expanse of his head. For someone who appears naturally angry, he’s quite good at keeping all the real anger in.

The downside of this: he bottles it all up. But the bottle isn’t big enough, doesn’t last forever, cracks at the seams, and then shatters in a explosion of tears. It enjoys crumpling him into the floor, loves the way his hands shiver in the cold breeze, shakes him to the core and, for all his confidence, makes him doubt.

Lyla’s only seen him like this once, when he couldn’t get away and instead had to sequester himself into his office, not quite getting to hardwiring her nosy personnel to do something else. 

No, he doesn’t rely on her, as he normally would with other problems. He doesn’t trust her, he doesn’t even trust himself with post breakdown Miguel, no. 

He goes to you.

You. The lovely, kind person he’s had the great privilege of calling his. His love, his support, his everything, or better yet; mi luz. My light. The light at the end of the tunnel, at the end of the world, when he feels like the walls are caving in and there’s really nowhere else to go and nothing more to lose.

You calm him, like you always do. Effortlessly caring, eternally so. Never afraid to give, to let him take and take until he’s stuffed whole. You know little things about him, take the time to learn them. Like where to get his favorite empanadas— much better than the ones in the spidey cafeteria— and that he loves when you press your fingers into his shoulder blades. He loves your massages.

He loves you.

Tapping insistently at the shitty gadget on his wrist, he mindlessly pulls up the coordinates for your dimension. Second nature. He’s walked himself into some obscure corner of the building, but he isn’t processing such mundane things at the moment. He can feel himself slipping, the mask fracturing. He can’t be left alone right now.

You.

The portal is up now, flashing and glitching in an assortment of colors, beckoning him in with its delectable light, like a halo. Miguel wastes no time giving in, diving into the portal and tucking himself tight like a torpedo.

Multiverses zoom by as he glides through hexagons and hexagons, thousands of people in each. Worlds that he keeps steady, safe, perfect. Normally, he’d stop to smell the flowers, observe and appreciate the sereneness of every special home in front of him. Pride himself in the fact that there was a special home for someone to come home to. 

But not this time. No, this time he keeps his eyes screwed shut, he wouldn’t, couldn’t get distracted by the novelty. The bottle is cracking now, cracking into long and sharp spikes aching to slice across his chest. He’s so close, all he could get himself to do was focus on his breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out—

The abrupt warning of your multiverse approaching pinches his wrist, reminding him that this whole mess was very much real. He stumbles into your living room with a not so quiet thud, startling you. You drop the spoon you were stirring something with— smells like some sort of sauce, yum— and whip your head towards him.

He’s got his arms wrapped around you before you can even process that it's him, burying himself in your neck and inhaling the calm scent of you, a mix of your perfume and your detergent, so very you. 

“Miguel.” You sigh into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist as the initial shock of his intrusion wears off. 

He slumps into you, only trusting himself to let out a low grumble of your name. 

“What’s going— oh,” your brain puts two and two together. “Oh, Miguel, shh. It’s okay, I got you.”

And he breaks. Because he knows you mean it. He knows you have him. You always do.

The tears are bubbling over the rims of his eyes and splashing down his cheeks, his hands are twisted up in your loose shirt. He’s sure his claws have made an entrance too. One of your hands reaches to turn off the stove, the other rubbing incandescent patterns into his back. 

You were always so careful. Never leave the stove on, Miggy. Don’t wanna burn the food. He loves that about you.

“Hey,” your voice wisps in through the fog of his mental breakdown, of the end of the world. “Hey. It’s me. Just me. Your absolute favorite person on this planet.”

“Multiverse.” He manages through sob induced hiccups. 

“Multiverse,” You smile, breathing out a soft laugh as you toil him in closer. “Breathe, my love. I have you. Nobody is here but me, and I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

He nods, lets himself weigh more onto you.

“That’s it, I got you,” you coax. “Get it out of your system.”

He gives all the tears he has to give. He’s sandwiching you between the counter and his stature, but you don’t seem to mind. Your spilling words, mindlessly, talking until he’s done and ready to attach himself to them, the soft baritone of your voice.

And it takes time, but he gets there. He’s in the tunnel, the walls are caving in, he’s believing he's given all he has to give, but you’re there, and you’re telling him no, no you have not. You don’t get to lose, because you have SO much more life to live.

His light.

The tunnel lets up, opens up the walls, lets him bathe in you, in the way your arms are still hooked tight around his waist and you’re going on about how there was a new episode of your favorite show that he had to watch. 

And of course he would watch it.

He’d do anything for you, anything you asked whenever you wanted. And he knows, in turn, that there wasn’t a damn thing in this god forsaken reality that would stop you from doing the same for him.

You tell him as much. To his face, into his hair, with the dance of your fingers on his back, in the way you guide him to the couch, when you place down some food and a cup of water— you just cried out your backup supply— and again when you place yourself down next to him.

“I’m so beyond lucky to have you.” He murmurs to you, some fifteen minutes into the episode of your show, something about this dude with a metal helmet and a green baby? He can’t recall the name.

You turn, a smile gracing your features. “You deserve me. You deserve everything the multiverse has to offer and more. Dunno what I’d do without you.”

“You’d have one less person bothering you.”

“Ah, yes,” you laugh, swatting his cheek. “Like you’re such a nuisance.”

He laughs, actually laughs. It’s nice.

You tilt your head onto the girth of his shoulder, snuggling in tight as your attention is again sucked into the screen.

He smiles dazedly at you, finally feeling at peace.

Mi luz. My light.

is anyone else still obsessed with him or is that just me

[tasiales]

writing prompt idea - Alcina Dimitrescu x reader (long text below)

you've just recently started your new job as a nurse at the asylum, and it's during one of many meetings with one of your patients you're assigned to now what makes you trully fear for your life for the first time since you started your working journey there.

it takes one quick glimpse towards the haunched woman sitting seemingly peacefully on her bed scribbling something away in her journal to take your breath away. the woman before you is stunningly beautiful; her features and soft curves of her body hidden underneath all the clothing remind you that of someone sculpted by the gods themselves. it's only after your quick introduction to her that you've been pulled aside by one of your new colleagues to warn you in hushed whispers about previous unfortunate accidents revolving all other nurses ever interacting with your new patient you'd just met.

she's dangerous, they said.

be attentive around her, they warned.

she's a lunatic, they proclaimed.

how could she be, you thought, when she's one of your peaceful patients who you never had a problem with and whose sign of acknowledgement is barely there nods and tentative smiles she gives you during your rambling episodes to fill the silence in the time it takes you to finish your tasks. honestly, she's a delightful company in regards of not messing with you like others tend to do throughout your regular checkups. you try to focus on staying professional but it's hard to resist the pull you feel towards this mysterious woman who barely speaks. you'd been told she has amnesia and doesn't remember much, and you can't help but be sympathetic towards her with that bleeding heart of yours.

you don't give those warnings you'd received at the beginning of your job any ounce of significance until it's too late.

you have no clue what could be the cause of her enraged moment - snapping at you like that - but you don't feel like finding out any time soon. it was one of your checkups during which she suddenly lunged at you knocking the tray you were holding out of her way, pills and other equipment scattering on the floor and getting crushed under your feet. you had barely any time to think of screaming before there were hands around your throat and strong legs weighing down on you pinning you to the floor which you hadn't even noticed you were pulled down to. luckily for you, all the commotion taking place in the room was loud enough for one of the guards to take notice in; with their line of work they were accustomed to picking up on even the slightest signs of sound disturbance. you would never in your life forget those eyes staring down at you; they shined alarming golden - which was as disturbing as the fact she's physically strong enough to kill you - smoldering and daunting making your blood run cold, and in that moment you came to realize one thing that was probably meant to be kept as secret... that woman is not entirely human.

now resting in the safety of your apartment recovering from your miss death encounter, your fight or flight instinct though still in overdrive making you paranoid and jumpy, you're thinking back to that moment - with the woman you've been attracted to for a while squeezing the life out of you - you should've recognized something amiss when those eyes of hers - normal human grey-ish color before she went berserk - had started staring you down; should've heard the low tremble of her growls stuck in her throat waiting for the moment to be unleashed. you should've seen it coming, should've paid more attention and not getting your guard down like you'd been warned about not to do. but you were too preoccupied with chatting away believing in the innocence of your patient. now you know better.

you still don't know what was the reason for her to lash out in such a way, with such ferocity and animalism - the only topic you talked about when she decided it was a good day as any to choke you was Greek mythology(it's being your hobby since childhood), with Cassandra being brought up that particular day - and those golden eyes that still haunt your dreams is another mystery you're not sure you ought to crack open.

Or

you're a new nurse at the asylum getting attached to one particular patient of yours - mysterious Alcina Dimitrescu with amnesia who your colleagues claim to be deranged and a lost cause - until she assaults you during one of the checkups, and you're left wounded and terrified for your life. it isn't until few weeks later you have a chance at civil conversation with her but what you hear makes you want to rethink your eager approach to forgive her because cults? some cryptic sounding Miranda responsible for getting Alcina locked up at the asylum? her daugters being in danger from that woman? even though police claimed them to be dead? them being not entirely human? you talking about Cassandra triggered her memory? the two last ones you may believe but the rest of it? you find this all hard to be convinced of with no proof whatsoever. you would've thought her crazy if not for the fact that while looking at the sketch of that Miranda that Alcina showed you, dread starts pooling in the pit of your stomach because you recognize this woman staring at you from the confines of the journal; she's been everywhere you look after the choking accident making you all the more suspicious than you already were. now you think you were right to be unreasonably fearful of people surrounding you these days.

the question is... would you dive in into this sea of madness helping a complete stranger who you feel a pull towards and resurface unscathed, or would it consume you without mercy? only time will tell.

[xxsycamore]

Hi! Hope you've been well <3 I want to tell you that I completely adore your writing, it's very detailed and I love it. I hope it's ok to request something for the Late Spring Tryst #6 Gilbert from Ikemen Prince. I can only imagine one of his pictures/events where both MC and Gilbert get caught under the rain. Thank youuu <3

Wait, wait, I didn't say that I'll be taking requests! 😳 But maybe I can try coming up with something for you...👀✨ Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you can continue to enjoy my works, have a great day! ❤❤❤

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

↬ 🖤 Gilbert takes care of his naughty little rabbit, who doesn't mind getting drenched in the rain to have him...

Gilbert von Obsidian x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Sex in the Rain; Rough Sex; Outdoor Sex; Vaginal Penetration; Vaginal Fingering; Creampie; Biting; Messy Sex; Dirty talk; Verbal Humiliation (mild); Aftercare • wordcount: 1, 713 • masterlist

Running barefoot on the tiled-floor corridors, barely missing your step down the staircase; the following loud creaking of a heavy wooden door being pushed open. It all swirls together in a colorful haze - the world before your eyes, the sounds and then the emotions; and then the sensation joins too, of being hit with a portion of sobering cool air as the outside is unforgiving. Even when you stop on your tracks and fixate the figure on the path ahead, your heart remains of someone running, beating so madly inside your chest.

Your soul is loud in parade, yet the skies are mourning silently. Why must they weep and rain down on the earth that Gilbert is walking? It's his return, yet the clouds disobediently refuse to part and make way even for someone as mighty and daunting as him. Very well then; you shall differ and be met with praise.

"And here I thought I'd surprise you by avoiding the main gates. Could it be that my little rabbit can sense me approaching? Have you missed me that much?"

Surprise you? If he really meant to sneak up on you, he would've done so without a problem; a longing gaze cast randomly past the windowpane was enough to spot him cross under the rose arch marking the entrance to the garden that is facing the back of the castle. It's some kind of test, perhaps, yet you willfully focus on the part resonating with your own version of this rushed meeting holding a deeper meaning, the signal coming from within, like you knew he was coming back early. Something akin to the concept of soulmates. Sweet thoughts rushing in, you quickly make your way across the cobblestone path marking the final meters separating you from him, with open arms. It's a little rough on your bare feet, yet the cold doesn't get to you.

Gilbert's embrace is a source of scorching warmth, but it strangely can't be found anywhere on his skin or under his heavy and warm attire. Like a spark that is needed to light a fuse, when you hug him, the fire envelops you.

Gilbert coos and returns the embrace, his arms resting on your shoulder and your head and act like a temporary shelter from the rain.

"Too taken aback to use words? I understand, for I, too, was overly eager to meet you again. I fantasized about you on the way back a lot, you know."

A lone butterfly flutters in the pit of your belly, not having sought refuge from the rain... The screaming reminder of something takes shape and washes off the innocent happiness of witnessing Gilbert's early return in one strong wave. Would he bring it up?

Looking up at him, you notice what the rain has done to him - dark hair sticking wetly to his cheek, begging you to reach and gently move it out of the way for him; one water drop running down the soaked eyepatch, right at the side of his tall nose, soon to meet the corner of his lips. Your throat is so dry, you realize, gulping down.

"You're out in the rain in that flimsy gown... how reckless, little rabbit..."

His glove-covered hands don't carry the warmth of human flesh, but the goosebumps are inevitably cast upon each and every millimeter of your skin that they graze. Your clothing doesn't do much in your favor, and that's where you want to correct him - it's not recklessness, it's impatience. But he'll interpret that wrong, too.

A harsh groping of your rear.

"What are you- doing-"

"I told you in my letter, didn't I? I'll devour you as soon as you enter my sight."

Fingers sinking into the flesh, the only thing keeping the gossamer from tearing apart under Gilbert's fingernails being the barrier made of black leather - much like the retractable claws of a big cat that simply means to play around and not cause harm. Not that Gilbert cares about your girly little gown, but marring the skin underneath should be a privilege saved for his teeth alone.

"Mm... rain mixes with your scent better than I imaged. Oh yes, I'll definitely will be taking you right here and now."

The reality of his words brings forth another wave - now without a doubt, arousal - over your abdomen and perhaps it's a little embarrassing to whine so early on, but it's too much. He wrecks you with words alone.

He turns you in his embrace, your backside sticking to his front, and the way he grips your jaw still can't distract you enough from the feeling of something hard pressing against your backside.

Hand moving your chin ever so gently, he urges on.

"Tell me, little rabbit, where should I bend you over? How about that tree over there? Or maybe you prefer the rose arch? Tsk, tsk, if only you would've waited a little longer, you could've been rolling in the silk of our bed instead, but alas... you're a naughty girl that would go to borderline animalistic lengths to have me inside her as soon as possible."

It should be more humiliating and definitely less arousing, the way he accuses of those things, yet you give him a further confirmation by grinding back against his tall frame. The little hairs at the back of your neck straighten up with the portion of warm air that leaves his lips, along with the amused chuckle he produces.

It's a mystery how he walks you to where he wants you - feeling a lot like a marionette guided by his hand - and you envy him for remaining so collected. Yet it's in the little things that you find an impatience of his own. The unfastening of his belt, the fingers finding your entrance to prepare for likely rough penetration... it's a little rushed, somehow. It tells you enough about how he feels.

"Aha, so you're already soaked... you can't blame the rain on this one, I'm afraid."

The thin material sticking to your legs has done nothing to make you feel clothed, yet when Gilbert hikes it up, you can't help but squirm. You're outside and practically naked; the spot is hidden from sight with tall branches hanging over the rose arch, yet the thrill is still tremendously present. The blunt head of Gilbert's cock presses against your freshly-fingered entrance, and in a flash all thoughts and feelings unrelated to seeking pleasure dissipate in the spring rain.

"You're sucking me right in... Aww, maybe I should tease you more and pull out before I bottom out all the way in? What sounds would you make then?"

You whimper and throw your head left and right to beg him to reconsider, hoping that it wouldn't make him more amused instead - if he's met with such apparent and vocal protest at the bare suggestion of it, the real thing must be a spectacle to see...but Gilbert can be generous too. If it's hidden behind his own pending need to feel your insides wrapped nice and tight around the entire length of his cock, that's it.

Your loud groan is not drowned in the rain and your hands are too busy keeping you upright to help muffle it, and it's good that they are, because Gilbert sets a steady rhythm right away, threatening to break your fragile balance. His thrusts are deep and hard; if there was a part of you not crazed with the strong feeling of him, now surely there's none. You feel him in your bones.

The target of his love bites this time is your left ear, and it means that you get to hear even the littlest noise of purring approval rising in his throat - the slight pain is coated in strange pleasure, as you've grown addicted to it, your tastes and preferences, your morality, your whole mentality, it's all bent and molten and reshaped into something dreadful and carrying his name.

"Are you going to be good and take my load inside you?"

He doesn't have to ask; it's absurd to think of turning around and wrapping your lips around him when you'll do a poor job of serving him with your mind emptied of coherent thoughts and muscle memory is nowhere near good enough for him. Your pussy clamps down on him, hands gripping the chiseled white stone harder until your knuckles start to resemble it in color. The rain makes the smooth surface of it more slippery, as if to rob you of the little stability you have.

"Just as I thought."

Gilbert is relentless and he presses up so deep inside it almost hurts; all in pursuit of his own pleasure. He hisses and finds it right there in your core, releasing his load inside you. It's scorching and it hits you deep inside, and though you want to fuck yourself back onto his cock, you stay and accept it obediently. Perhaps enjoying it like that is better than the pathetic instinct of your body, and Gilbert is doing you a favor you have to be thankful for. Either way, your pleasure peaks and you moan out his name amidst a strong climax.

The bite on your ear is kissed better, and the cock inside you withdrawn not long after. You didn't realize the stability you were so scared of losing was called Gilbert all along. The rose arch does nothing to hold you upright, and you feel your knees hitting the ground.

"Oh no, little bunny, you'll get all dirty in the mud... did I fuck you too hard and now you can't stand up on your own?"

The air is not enough for breathing, replying to him is out of the question. An unmistakable sensation is registered inbetween your legs, and you realize that Gilbert is watching you leak his cum, legs parted helplessly as you kneel on the wet, hard ground.

"You poor thing... You played in the rain and got all drenched up, didn't you? I guess that's your naughty way of making me pity you, so I can take care of you. But don't worry. I, too, look forward to spending some more special time with you while I warm and clean you up in the bath."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @gilbertvonobsidian @aceuuuuu @atelier-the-atelier Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[little-red-fool]

OMG YOU'RE SEVENTEEN?? (I've been following you for months and I didn't once read the pinned message beyond the line about no AI and NFTs lmao) YOUR ART IS SO CRISPY I THOUGHT YOU WERE A PRO ARTIST AROUND 30 WTF

(sorry for the yelling via text)

HOW DID YOU GET SO GOOD!! (Tips on lineart please?) WE'RE THE SAME AGE, BUT HALF OF MY ART IS SHIT AND THE OTHER HALF IS FART

ALL HAIL LITTLE RED FOOL, BESTOW THY GREATNESS UPON THOU MERE MORTAL SERVANTS

But in all seriousness, any tips on, like I said, lineart or just digital art in general? (I just started digital, and... Ten hours of work and I'm just on base colors 😎🕶️🤏🥲) I love, LOVE your style and especially COLOR! How do you tie it all together? Like, I'm 17 too, but I'm not even close to your stuff?? I'm scared as fuck from ever trying color traditionally because I spend SO MUCH TIME ON A SKETCH, so I just picked up digital and HOURS LATER IT'S STILL AWFUL

Sorry for the rambling and repeating, man, it's been a long day and it's late in the Balkans... Don't let the rambling force you into answering tho

Have a good one. ->excited fellow artist

(tip of the day: did you know that in Romanian, moon and month are the same word, with the same pronunciation, spelling and plural? It's called: lună [loonuh] and I think it comes from latin, since Romanian is a heavily latin language, with bits of french and turkish (HEAVY bits), dacian, slavic, italian)

OUAHFSHD THANK YOU SO MUCH I’M REALLY HAPPY YOU LIKE MY ART!! Also I’m sure your art is better than you think it is (we generally tend to view our own creations as worse than others because we’re the ones that made them, don’t worry I’m the same as well ajdbsjd) but yeah I’ll be happy to give you some tips and stuff! (and yeah I never colour traditionally either I just leave everything in plain biro because I don’t want to mess it up lol)

(I haven’t seen your art so these will probably be more general tips but hopefully they’ll help a bit, also keep in mind that I’m not a professional so this will be more about what has worked for me but I hope it might help you a bit)

So for stuff like lineart, avoid using chicken-scratches—it might seem easier or less daunting to do shorter overlapping lines like that but it will give your sketches and drawings that overall fuzzy look, the trick is to have longer confident strokes. It might seem a bit tricky at first if you haven’t done it before so don’t worry it happens but if you keep practicing they’ll eventually look smoother and less shaky. For the longer lines it better to draw from either your elbow or shoulder, and by that I mean keeping your wrist still and letting the larger parts of your arm do most of the work—this will also help your wrist in the long run. For things like shorter lines and smaller details then absolutely use your hand to move the pen, but generally try to use your elbow and shoulder as it will help you get those longer smoother lines. Also this is just a personal preference of mine but I generally use brushes that have a bit of pressure sensitivity which helps add some line weight. If you don’t have pressure sensitivity another way you can get line weight is by taking an eraser to some of the edges and narrowing some parts.

For colours it mainly depends on the lighting—lighting is everything and will affect how the rest of the colours will look, so it’s important to have an idea of the brightness and colour of your lighting. The background also plays an important role in picking colours for me as well as it helps provide colour context and makes it easier to pick colours by eye if you want a certain mood. If you want a more dependable way on getting colours to match up then I’d recommend having a layer that’s just colour on top of the rest of your piece—you can play around with the blending modes and opacity, I mainly use either an overlay layer with a medium colour that’s slightly desaturated or a colour burn layer with a light saturated colour; most of the time I use colour burn because if you put it over your lineart then it will also tint the parts of your lineart or sketch that’s at a lower opacity too. But with figuring out colours I’d highly recommend researching some stuff about colour theory, there are a lot of good and easy to understand explanations and art tutorials on YouTube so I would recommend starting there (unfortunately I can’t link recommend specific videos because my playlists are a mess ajdbsjdbsj but some good channels to learn from are Sinix Design, Marc Brunet and Marco Bucci).

In terms of general digital art tips, ALWAYS FLIP YOUR CANVAS. You will not believe the amount of times I’ve looked at a drawing and thought it looked pretty good, flipped the canvas and found that everything’s wonky. In cases like these the liquify tool is your best friend, as well as the lasso tool and transform tools, as well as just manually fixing them by redrawing some parts. Also use as many layers as you need, and by this I mean if you’re working on your sketch, lineart or colouring or whatever and you want to do something you’re not sure you’ll like, duplicate the layers so you have a backup in case it goes wrong and you want to go back. When I say use as many layers as you need I mean use as many as you need, these are some of mine and they’re all from just one sketch because I get really anxious about messing stuff up lol, also don’t be afraid of drawing separate parts on separate layers and merging them afterwards if you want.

Also take your time, unless you have a deadline don’t feel like you have to complete a drawing within a certain timeframe, if you want to get faster at drawing then that’s great but don’t feel like you need to push yourself, especially if you’re just starting. Practice takes time and patience is your best friend, and you probably hear lots of other artists saying this but trust the process. You might get to a bit you’re struggling with and not like it and want to abandon the drawing, but I found that rather than saying “this is bad” or “this is wrong” start asking “how can I make this work” because a change in mindset can help you a lot with art. Also don’t feel like you have to reach certain milestones with your art by certain points either, like with the age thing and comparing your progress with other artists of either the same or different ages, because it can make you feel worse about your art. Trust me there are some artists younger than me who are like 14 or 15 who’s art I envy and—again with the mindset thing—instead of getting down that your art isn’t similar to their’s or worrying that you’re “behind” in your artistic development (there is no such thing btw everyone learns at different ages and speeds so don’t feel bad if you haven’t progressed as much as you would have liked to) it helps to ask what you like about their art and what you would like to incorporate into your own—this has helped me learn and improve a lot faster.

I don’t know if I have any more tips at the moment, but I hope that answered some of your questions! (also sorry it’s a bit long or some bits don’t make a lot of sense I like to ramble a bit lol) (also also thank you for the little fact as well!)

Have a nice day anon 🧡

[crguang]

Cabernet anon again 👋🏾 🍷

I was rereading your post on when I asked for your thoughts about her and saw your list of your favorite ladies so far. I noticed that you have Adela and Oak Casket (they’re also on my top favorites list too) and I was wondering if you could give us some thoughts or even thirsts about them. Honestly anything you give us great so I have no complaints whether you lean more into one more than the other.

Can I be this emoji 🍷? I definitely be coming back to ask for more ptn stuff so think of me as the ptn girl lol?

HIIII yes you can!! wine emoji for my cabernet anon fits so well, welcome to the circus🙂‍↕️ i have so many thoughts about oak and adela, i’ll try to condense them so this isn’t a lengthy answer.

let’s start with oak!! my attachment to her is very personal and kind of heavy so i won’t say too much but i really resonate with her. she’s experienced death even if it wasn’t in the literal sense and is constantly around the dead since; she’s alive but she’s not. she despises the living for the suffering they cause and forgets that she’s living too. she spends all her time tending to the dead, comforting them, listening to them, making it so that their last regrets are put to rest along with their consciousness. in a weird way, she’s super comforting to me because she understands how ugly living can be. i realize that it’s a sort of twisted line of thinking to believe that death is true salvation but as someone who is scared of it, it makes the whole thing less daunting and in general easier to accept. she had to hold an official funeral for herself to put her past to rest and i felt that so bad😭 i looove how twisted she’s become by being a bridge between the dead and the living world, all she hears are regrets and all she feels is the powerlessness that comes with dying, so she’s obsessed with the idea of experiencing a more “satisfying” death through Chief and that’s so… delicious. and despite how comforting i find her, she’s kinda evil lmfao, she’s the reason for so many conflicts in syndicate from selling information and trafficking goods, and she’s not afraid to use those guns like damn. i always forget about that part because she looks so nice until she whips them out in battle

oak’s design is also one of my personal favorites in the whole game. i’m a sucker for religious themes in darker stories and the priest robes made sexy is insaneee. the cross over her chest, the stole, the gloves ughhh she looks so good. the color green symbolizing immortality when she deals with death all the time because the souls she’s let rest will forever live on with her. her eyes being different color (green and pink, opposites) because she’s at once dead and alive, the only link between these two realms… the black strands in her otherwise ashen hair as if she’s been tainted in some way and carries death with her forever— the cardinal directions on the altar because she’s essentially a guide ohh its so good. plus that ENG voice does a lot of things to meee it’s so soothing and deep, she sounds exactly as she should and it tickles my brain really nicely. paired with her playful yet scary allure it fits her soooo well.

needless to say that oak is insanely gorgeous and i need to feel those hands on my hair while i go down on her and she’s praising my enthusiasm like ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh she has the same effect on me as black swan from HSR where every time i see her i have to stop and stare for a while because i can’t believe how sexy she is. how do her boobs stay in that dress. they have to be so perky for her to not need a bra. need them in my mouth until they glisten as i pull away i want her so bad. i feel like she’s a reallll moaner, her voice gets deep and slurred and raspy mm… i’ll show her pleasure she can only get while alive, trust!

on to my BABYYYYYYY. ADELA. oh my goodness i love her so much it’s incredible. i love love love charming women and she’s the epitome of that!!! my first thought about her was, “omg she’s so charming” and she’s only proven that throughout her event. she’s so cute, so kind, so selfless and holds a genuine desire to help others. she’s not manipulating chief and after they broke her shears, she even looks out for them the whole time. bringing them back to her home, changing them, making breakfast, washing their clothes?!$(!?(!?! she just wants to do some good and escape her own troubles i love and understand her so much. i have an avoidant personality so i will run from my issues, if i could erase my own memories of past suffering i would do that in a heartbeat 😭 i really understand the need to eradicate all traces of your pain and sadness, even if some of it is necessary for growth. the analogy of troubles manifesting as long, long hair until it’s all that she sees is incredibly creative and it makes the audience sympathize with her desire to cut it all off despite it causing others pain. she’s such a soothing soul that people have no issue confiding in her, her presence is reassuring and she’s always so calm… i wanna give her a hug and stay like that for half an hour, she could cure me. her voice!!!! i was not expecting the british accent but it’s so soft and sweet. i could listen to her talk for ages, it’s a shame she never has much to talk about because she forgets everything.

i love the “character wants to help others but only hurts them and themselves” trope and that’s literally her. erasing people’s memories unprompted is insane, especially when they include people who mean a lot to them, but she doesn’t see the wrong in it because in her mind she’s solving all of their worries. it’s really cute but she lacks so much nuance that it affects her as well, she wants a peaceful life yet she cuts off her own memories whenever something goes wrong which causes her to forget about the places she’s lived in and the people in it too. she’s not living any sort of life, she doesn’t know where she’s from and has no friends, she isn’t truly remembered by anybody— she’s an empty shell with a smile on her face. it’s sad how someone who so readily helps others must feel so empty inside. she says she has no worries but that’s because she has nothing she cares about enough to worry over, otherwise she’ll snip snip it off just like she did her memories of Chief. she’s learning to feel her feelings and let them pass tho, i’m proud of her <3

what happened with her mother destroyed me because i relate a lot and would have done exactly what she did in that situation, she believed that she was a burden and failed to understand that she was loved (though that’s her mother’s fault) so she ran. my hearttt.

her design is also one of my favs like look at her!!! her hair is what drew me in first and it’s so fitting considering that it’s her whole thing. it looks so good, i love the colors and the stray strands that give it a messy look, and how it gets longer as she’s controlled by the shears like it has a mind of its own. i have no idea what that contraption is on her chest but the scissors are great, and the ones from her earrings too. the leather straps/harness of her coat are my favorite part they remind me of a (sexy) straight jacket and it ties into the whole “she creates her own constraints” thing about her that i love. all in all adela is sooo pretty, just stunning. blue and black were my favorite colors for over a decade so im really biased towards her color palette hehe.

omg i really love how scary she is with the shears it’s such a harsh contrast with her personality. her ult voice line is lowkey terrifying, no wonder she’s an urban legend; “shhh… i… found… you…” in a quiet, sing-song voice is crazy

since she’s more comforting to me than anything else slow, loving sex would be soooo nice. she feels like a service top (my kindred spirit) and she’d want to “ease your worries” that way once the shears are off limits, so she’d learn your body inside and out to make you feel so so good until you forget all about what had you stressed in the first place. she can’t use her blades but we can always scissor! i’m just like her so i wanna fuck her brains out until she can’t remember anything but the words “yes” and “please” <3 she deserves to be so overstimulated her worrying brain turns to mush. wearing a coat with nothing underneath is a choice but like oak, there’s no way her tits just stay in place unless they’re perky enough which kinda drives me nuts mmhhhhh i wanna suckle them like a pacifier😞

this ended up long anyway im sorry about that hhjhgdd but in my defense they’re my favorite characters…

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 21

I was not prepared for the onslaught of emotions overwhelming me, so I froze. It felt wrong to kiss Bucky with Steve sleeping just a few steps away. I loved two men, and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting either of their feelings. It seemed inevitable, like a train barreling toward me that I couldn’t escape. Bucky felt my hesitation and pulled back, searching my face for answers.

I blinked out of my reverie. “I can’t do this, Buck. It has nothing to do with you, but…”

Bucky looked hurt as he let go of me. “Steve…I know.” He looked at the floor and took a step back. “This sucks. I don’t know what to do, Doll. I just know we can’t keep playing this game of hide and seek. You have to tell him the truth…about everything.”

The next morning, everyone packed up, and we made our way to the SHIELD facilities in London. Steve and I were busy helping to locate the rest of the Hydra hideouts, while Bucky did his best to avoid me. It was difficult, given that both of us were part of Steve’s new team, the Howling Commandos. It was a colorful group, made up of the soldiers Steve had saved from the Hydra facility where he had found Bucky.

We all gathered in a dimly lit pub, and despite the ongoing world war, the atmosphere was surprisingly cheerful—maybe they were just drunk. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I enjoyed the company of these men, who seemed to appreciate me. Most of them I knew by name, considering that I had been the one patching them up. I sat between Dum Dum Dugan, an American soldier, and a British guy named James Falsworth. James was charming, and whenever he got chocolate in his rations, he would share it with me as a thank you for mending him up.

Steve and Bucky were at the bar, deep in conversation, but it was too loud for me to hear what they were saying. Suddenly, the room fell silent, and everyone turned their attention to the door. I craned my neck, trying to see what the commotion was about, and then I saw her: Agent Carter in a red dress, walking straight towards Steve. She looked stunning, like a Hollywood starlet, and even Bucky and Steve seemed to be impressed. A pang of jealousy hit me, and I needed some fresh air. The pub was too stuffy, and the cigar smoke was overwhelming.

I excused myself and went outside, leaning against the lamppost in front of the pub, trying to calm the jealousy simmering inside me. Before long, I heard footsteps, and Bucky stepped outside, his eyes scanning the area until they landed on me. He smiled as he approached.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his concern evident.

I didn’t feel like talking, and I didn’t want him to see this vulnerable side of me, so I just nodded. Bucky didn’t seem convinced. “She asked him to dance, and he told her he wasn’t interested, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he explained, noticing my silent turmoil. When I didn’t respond, he began to pace in front of me, frustration clear in his steps. “This can’t go on like this. We need to talk to him about everything. We’re at war, and all I can think about is you, Steve, and this goddamn situation.” His eyes pleaded with me, as if he was waiting for a salvation that only I could provide.

“You’re right…I know. I’ll tell him. I promise. I’ll tell him tomorrow,” I said, the unease in my gut growing heavier. It was a daunting task, but it was probably for the best.

When tomorrow came, I walked to the SHIELD office, knowing Steve would be there since Howard Stark had said he had something for us. I was curious about Stark’s request, but I was even more nervous about revealing the truth to Steve. He was already waiting in front of Peggy’s desk when I arrived. He was talking to a female SHIELD agent who was clearly flirting with him, though he seemed nonchalant, or perhaps oblivious, to her advances.

Swallowing my jealousy, I walked up and greeted them both, leaning on Peggy’s desk. Stark was running late, and as I waited, I started to look around and noticed my file on Peggy’s desk. I picked it up and flipped through it, finding my medical information and details about my past—where my family came from, that I was an only child, my parents’ names, and where I grew up.

I landed on a document about my health and vitals before and after the injections. It was standard information until I came across a line that stopped me cold. “Subject before infection: pregnant. It will be interesting to see how the injections affect gestation.” Across from it, it simply read, “Injections were fatal to embryo.”

I felt dizzy, and my stomach churned violently. I dropped the file and clung to the table as I dry-heaved. Steve must have heard me, because he came over and took my hand, his face filled with concern. “What’s going on? Are you alright?” he asked, shock in his voice.

I grabbed the paper basket next to the table and threw up. I was so absorbed in my sickness that I didn’t notice Steve picking up the file and reading it.

When I finally looked up, I saw the shock in Steve’s eyes as he read the document that had made me sick. He put the file back and helped me sit in a nearby chair. “I don’t understand…this is your file…how…when?” he asked, his voice trembling.

I wiped my face with a tissue from Peggy’s desk, my own white complexion mirroring my inner turmoil. Steve began rubbing my back, trying to soothe me, though I knew he was full of questions I wasn’t ready to answer. I wanted to talk to him, but this wasn’t how I had envisioned it.

After a long, tense silence, Steve finally said, “Talk to me.”

And I told him everything.

Next Chapter

[caffeineinducedbeing]

the rest of our lives

The sun cast a warm glow over the Redmont courtyard as Alyss and Will walked hand in hand through the gardens. The soft summer breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers. It had been a few months since Will had proposed, and now they were knee-deep in wedding planning.

They strolled over to a quiet corner of the courtyard, where they sat comfortably on a bench.

Alyss's eyes twinkled with a mix of emotions, from excitement to a touch of nervousness. She turned to Will, her fingers lacing with his. "I never thought I'd be the one planning a wedding. It's like something out of a dream."

Will chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on her. "Well, it's a dream I'm more than happy to be a part of. And it's a lot less daunting when I know I'll be marrying my best friend."

Alyss shook her head, a warm smile tugging at her lips. "You charmer"

He shrugged playfully. "Just speaking the truth my love," Then he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Alyss giggled, her eyes shining with happiness. "Definitely exciting. But also a bit overwhelming. There's so much to figure out and arrange."

Will chuckled, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Tell me about it. Who knew there were so many details to consider? The colors, the flowers, the guest list..."

"Exactly," Alyss agreed. "And don't even get me started on the seating chart. It's like a puzzle trying to figure out where everyone should sit."

They both shared a laugh, the shared challenges of wedding planning being nearly comedic in the face of all they'd been through together already. Will leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. "We'll figure it out, the important thing is that at the end of the day, we're married."

She smiled, her heart full of affection for the man beside her. "Yeah, as long as we end up married, the day will be a success, everything will fall into place."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then, Will spoke up again. "Have you thought about the vows?"

Alyss looked thoughtful for a moment, "I have. I want them to be personal, meaningful."

Will nodded, "meaningful, I guess I can do that."

Alyss nodded in turn and said jokingly, "You're probably going to have to throw in that you'll promise to love me for better or worse."

I'll make sure to fit it in somewhere"

Alyss chuckled softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You better. And I'll promise not to laugh too hard when you start tearing up during the vows."

Will feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Hey, I can't help it if I'm emotional."

She grinned, playfully hitting his side. "I know, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

They didn't speak for a moment, they sat peacefully basking in the others presence.

Then Will said sincerely, "And I'll promise you that I'll always support you, that I'll be your partner in every adventure, and that I'll love you with everything that I am everyday of our lives."

Alyss froze, feeling an overwhelming amount of love pass between them, she looked up at him, drew a breath to speak, then stopped, her head plopping back on his shoulder with an annoyed thud.

"I can't top that" she said in feigned grumpiness.

Will laughed, "you're not supposed to"

Their eyes met, a shared understanding passing between them.

Alyss curled further into Will's side, feeling a sense of calm wash over her. "I can't wait to be your wife"

He wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her close. "And I can't wait to call you my wife. It feels like we've been ready for this for a long time, now that it's finally happening...."

Alyss finished the sentence for him, "It does feel that way, doesn't it? Like our lives have been leading us to this point somehow."

She felt him nod a few times, then press a kiss to the top of her head once more. "I'm just grateful that I get to spend the rest of my life with you, Alyss."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with affection. "The rest of our lives are starting pretty soon aren't they?"

"In about 2 months, yes they are"

She kissed him long and slow, a promise that transcended words.

"I can't wait" she whispered

[itsu-saragi]

Devlog #3 - Revisions and Indecisions.

Sjdjfdhs hi. Apologies for letting the “see you in a month” turn into several months. Work got busy, then I caught Covid, after recovering I went on vacation, and then work got busy again… But I did work on this VN all throughout.

I didn’t make as much progress as I wanted, but some progress was made nevertheless.

So what exactly did I do? Let me count the ways.

Story Revisions

Changed the premise from magic academia to magic uhhh small business? Workshop? Something like that, I'm not sure what to call it.

My original story followed the player character and their love interest as they explored their university campus. This came to be because I was tinkering with the concepts of "group partners to lovers" & showing the player character as non-humanoid to allow for reader-insert and immersion, like the Obey Me games and the pink sheep MC. But the story stopped being appealing to me, plus the scope started to become bigger than I had anticipated. Multiple CGs in different locations across a giant campus? Yeah that's a nightmare to draw.

I'd still like to explore the idea of a non-humanoid MC though, so maybe that'll be a future game, or at least another brain dump post!

But anyway, I shrunk the premise. One store, one LI, and the customers that enter the little workshop. I'm still sticking to the idea of mundane modern fantasy though.

Because of the location change from university to workshop, I've had to revise the LI a lot. He's shaping up really well though! His name is Fen, I hope I can introduce him here sometime soon.

Building Frameworks

I'm not sure what to call it, so for now I'm calling it frameworks.

Basically, instead of tackling each aspect of the game separately from drafts to completion (ex: drawing all sprites right now and then moving on to writing the script), I want to create rough versions of everything.

I think this will help me because then I'll have an idea of how much work each aspect will entail, and I can hopefully spot and remedy any holes or glaring skill issues.

This is especially important for coding. I'll be using RenPy, the classic engine for visual novels, but I have very little coding experience. I'd like to gain some before I start creating the writing and assets meant to be incorporated into the platform.

By creating the framework (or I guess prototype is the better word in this case), I'll get some understanding of how RenPy works and once I have the assets complete I can insert those in.

For plot frameworks, I'm trying not to go into too much detail. Lots of bullet points cause I fuck with those.

For character frameworks, I must admit I'm putting a lot of thought and detail into Fen, but I think I should as he's the core of this game. I'm reminding myself though that much of him can still be altered if the story requires it.

There's definitely more frameworks I need to think about, like sprites, backgrounds, and music too.

But to sum it up, I'd like to create a rough draft of the entire game, and then only afterward do I start going in and changing details and adding colors to the big picture. I hope that makes sense.

Next Step: Character & Coding Frameworks

For the rest of April and probably the entirety of May as well, I'll focus on fleshing out Fen and putting together the coding framework.

I think figuring out Fen's character arc will help me get an idea of the overall story, which is incredibly daunting yet exciting lol

I'm not planning on making the coding look pretty, I just want to make something that functions. I have no clue how well that will go so please pray for me or something.

Personal Thoughts: I am Afraid

I think the reason why I didn't make a lot of progress is because lately, I've been afraid of doing so. I've never made a game before, or written an original story. I don't know what I'm doing, and instead of directly addressing things I've kept working around them. And because I haven't made much progress, it stresses me out. And then that stress makes me do less work.

Hellooo feedback loop.

I'm an indecisive person who likes to look for the right or most optimal answer. But in a creative project like this, it's hard to know what the "right" answer is cause it can be subjective.

I'm trying to remind myself to enjoy the process and to take small steps, and everything is still changeable as I'm still in the beginning stages. It's hard, but as I'm writing this update I think I'm feeling better.

I'm sure this gamedev journey will be me enjoying the ride and then immediately hating it, so for anyone reading: thank you for your patience. I appreciate you.

I'm going to try and post an update, no matter how small it is, once a month. So. Cheers to me being able to post this in April.

I'm still trying to figure out what to post and how to get my thoughts across. I've never done anything like this before, so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please feel free to share!

And again, thank you to whoever's reading this. I hope you have a great timezone :)

[genshrineimpact]

universe abound

| ◆ ch.5 ⑊ high tea.

⬙⤠ masterlist ⤝⬙

◇ a/n ◇ how do writers build such intricate worlds i am literally pulling my hair rn trying to connect the dots and covering the plot holes sldkfjlsdkf no one look

"your grace-"

"[name]."

"how could i dare to speak the sacred name with this lowly tongue of mi-"

"beel."

the joy that spreads across her expression just from a single mutter of her name makes you feel a little awkward. you weren't even saying it in a pleasant tone, more of a ‘parent scolding a child’ type of tone… you used to find the cultish and worshipping tendencies of sagau romantic, but to actually receive the treatment like this… it feels a little daunting.

"that is my name, yes!"

"hey! how come she gets called by name and not me! i, for one, will gladly call you by name as much as you want!" barbatos puffs out his chest proudly, throwing you his signature wide smile. you’re still not used to this version of him - you have definitely seen this particular skin before, but you never really owned it, seeing as by that time you had other higher priorities to use your money for instead of using them to buy clothes for a fictional character.

that's so weird to think of.

"[name]? ehe, you're staring… does this appearance please you~?"

".... eh?"

"i thought you'd like it, cause the last time an outsider visited, they had this look and you sounded so excited and happy to see him... so i decided to copy them! well, with a few modifications of course~" he motions towards the crystal cores on his braids, smiling as he's recalling an old memory, "you used to laugh whenever i start chasing around the crystalflies, remember? i couldn't help but take a few, i thought you'd like it!"

you want to question so many things in that sentence. like, what did he mean by an outsider visiting? when is this last time he spoke of? what did he mean by you sounding excited and happy? and when did you ever see him chase after crystalflies? was there such an event in the game? why is he speaking as if he’s met you in person before when you've never-

a pinming cup is elegantly served in front of you with a soft clink. your eyes trail up the arm sporting bright colored geo lines to meet morax’s amber-gold eyes, and he offers you a gentle smile.

wow, he’s so beautiful up close.

"oh. i… am glad you think so, [name]."

oh shit, did you just say that outloud?!

"[name], [name], what about me??"

you palm your heated cheeks and decide to abandon your shame altogether. fuck it, if you’re going to be here for a while - which it looks like you will be - then you might as well live out your younger self’s daydreams of interacting and spoiling these ‘fictional’ characters, "you're pretty too, barbatos. and you too, beel."

if only you had your phone with you now, so you can capture the beautiful sight of raiden ei herself blushing, eyes crinkling in a smile, shyly hidden behind her palm covering her lips. on your other side, venti himself has for once quietened down, opting to beam at you with both of his palms supporting his chin, elbows leaning against the table, faint pink dusting his cheeks and a lovesick grin on his lips.

morax sits at the last open seat across from you, still wearing the same smile as before, and you wish you could screenshot this picture-perfect scene, share it online and watch as people lose their minds. because it feels like you're starting to lose your mind right this moment.

"so, [name]. though we are more than joyous that you’ve decided to return, it would be nice to have some… explanation, regarding what has been going on. and perhaps plan our next course of actions."

morax’s calming voice does nothing to quell the sudden spike in your heart rate.

explanation? they want you to explain… what exactly? if anything, you were the one who should be hoping for an explanation. you came to this world because of the game, right? you didn't want to be here in the first place…

"i… can’t."

"your grace, please rest assured, you can trust us completely-"

"i’ll be completely honest. i can't give you any explanation because i have no idea why or how is it that i am here with you right now."

your confession brings a sudden silence over the group.

this time, the anemo archon is the one who reacts first. leaning closer onto your side, eyes wide, he tries to meet your eyes, "b-but- didn't you hear our prayers? received our offerings? isn't that why you came back?"

prayers and offerings.

you think back to the notifications you received. you suppose you can call them prayers, to some extent, although you’ve never seen it as such before this. so the 'person' behind those were… the inhabitants of teyvat themselves? and the free gifts were offerings from them?

… regardless of whom those pings came from, they were the reason why you tried to open the game. so technically, you can say that barbatos is correct, right?

you were about to nod when morax's question intercepted the motion, a slight frown forming between his eyebrows as he observes your expression.

"[name], are you aware of the state of teyvat right now?"

the geo archon’s question triggers a flutter of scenery that you’ve seen through the led screen of your device. they flash before your eyes and you briefly feel the hot lead of guilt filling your stomach. that was… what, months ago? a year? time usually passes faster in the game than in real life, but is that really the case here? because if so, you don't really want to know how the current situation is.

you decide there's no point in lying, so you nod, "just the… gist of it. i know that things aren't… good."

"... forgive me if this sounds intrusive, however, i must ask - where have you been prior to today, [name]? we haven't seen you in person ever since…. ever since you ascended celestia," he sounded… pained, when he says this, and you observe his neutral facade in confusion.

not ‘ascended to celestia’, but ‘ascended celestia’ itself? you might not remember all the lores anymore, but you could've sworn nothing mentioned that.

but then again, the original lore never mentioned the existence of a divine creator or anything pointing to such a being.

"i… i’m not…. i don’t……."

the words are tethering at the tip of your tongue, but something holds them back from spilling out. a dark thought crosses your mind, the possibility making you freeze in fear for a second.

so far, you only know that the game - or whoever it is - that's responsible for bringing you here, actually went through with it because it thinks that you can save this world, in one way or another. knowing this, you can certainly choose to go along with this whole charade; to just play your part and maybe if you're lucky you’ll get some kind of more concrete instructions on what exactly it is that you're supposed to do to ‘save teyvat’. but…

on the chance that it is mistaken, and you're not this all-divine being, the moment the real one arrives, what will become of you?

will you be tossed aside? burned at the stake? stoned to death? electrified into a crisp by beelzebul? stabbed through morax's spear? tossed down starsnatch cliff by barbatos?

you shudder. reading about those 'bad ends' in fiction works was one hell of an experience in itself, but having the possibility of those events actually happening to you is enough to make you rethink your whole plan of action. there's no guarantee that these three will believe you and there's also a possibility that they'll turn back on you the moment you tell them the truth. but lying to them just feels… wrong. and just as risky.

"before that… first, answer me this. how do you know that i'm…. well… me, and not just some… impostor… who's pretending to be the creator?"

the three archons look as if you've just slapped them right on their face. flabbergasted and looking borderline offended, morax - as expected - is the first to compose himself, and he scrambles to pick his words carefully.

"how? but… how could we not? we could never forget your voice, your grace. just as how crystalflies would gather around areas abundant with the energy of their respective elemental types, our very being always yearns to be in your very presence. it is simply the law of nature."

"the aforesaid. there is no question that you’re the divine creator. even i who have not met you directly before this occasion knows that you are, without a doubt, the one who has been guiding me all these times," beel explains with conviction, purple eyes crackling with electro, "please rest assured, if such a sinful being dare to appear in front of your eyes, i will strike it down at once and vaporize them to dust."

her words bring a certain scene at tenshukaku to mind, and you shudder. your silence only deepens the furrows on the two gods' foreheads, and they glance at each other in silence, wondering if they had somehow aggrieved you with their words. in an attempt to do damage control, barbatos inches his hand towards your side of the table and speaks to you in a gentle tone.

"[name]... your appearance may change and you may look like just a normal human being, but the whole teyvat will always recognize you as its master. and that includes its people - meaning, us! you are, undoubtedly, the one and only creator of this teyvat. this barbatos guarantees it! so… so, please, don't look so scared of us, okay?"

your eyes flick between the anemo archon and your steaming cup of tea as your brain tries to come up with a reply. you'd never pegged him of all people to be as observant as he is now… or perhaps your expressions aren't as controlled as you thought.

all this thinking and speculation exhausts you. already, you can feel a tightness at both sides of your head, a warning sign of an incoming stress headache. with a loud sigh, you slump backward onto your chair, hands raised in a surrendering motion.

"fine. i'll tell you what happened from my perspective… with one condition. i want you all to promise me. me, not as your 'god' or 'creator' or any 'divine being', but as… a friend. promise me that whatever happens in the future, you won't hurt me."

"hurt you?! my liege…," the dark purple-haired god shrinks on her seat when you give her a stern look following her outburst. meanwhile, the other two look just as petrified at the prospect of you asking them to swear that they won't do such sacrilegious action.

it finally dawns on them that you do not trust them.

".... very well. if it will ease your heart, as the god of contracts, i shall oversee this promise to ensure that it is held. a binding contract between us and a single individual - [name]."

you can feel some tension leave your body at morax's declaration. in your frazzled state, it seems that you have forgotten about that option. contracts - yes, that could come in handy, you'll have to remember it. you'd like to believe that based on his lore and character, morax would never break a contract, especially the ones he has set personally.

so for now, you should be safe…

"great. now… it's up to you to believe me or not. but i really hope you do and won't think that i'm being delusional, or something."

and so, you began your story. starting from the very beginning. your identity, your life back on earth (though you skipped telling them a lot of things there, because you don't have the energy nor memory capacity to narrate all the years you've lived in - how the hell does morax remember all his 6000 years of life??), how you found out about genshin and started playing it (it took a while to explain this because you can see the confusion in their faces whenever you said certain words like 'video game' or 'server'), how years passed and how it was supposed to be terminated but somehow only you could still access it, how you then started receiving the strange notifications…

you're fully aware that it isn't the wisest decision to lay all your cards on the table like this, but as you glance up at them in between words and find them looking back at you so intently, as if they're hanging on to every single one of your words… it warms your heart and pushes you to tell them the whole truth.

there's a glimmer of recognition in morax's eyes as you tell him about your visit to liyue. he says nothing and lets you continue talking, but there's a solemn smile that tugs on his expression when you stutter on your words, the sadness of seeing liyue so broken evident in your tone. 

you're actually talking to them.

they're actually able to hear you.

this used to be what your younger self wished for the most. you remember it well. the longing to be able to converse and interact with them, to experience teyvat in all its entirety. maybe if this whole thing happened then, you would have eagerly taken the mantle of the 'divine creator' without as much thought.

you're supposed to be all grown up now, but it seems like that yearning never truly left you. perhaps once you've passed a certain treshold, age is truly just that, a meaningless number that matters little, in the grand scheme of things.

by the time you finish, your throat is dry and the tea has gone cold. the four of you fall into silence, each of you with your own thoughts. you sigh and sip on the now-cold tea, silently waving your hand when morax notices the state of your drink and tries to stand, probably to brew you a fresh batch. he sits back obediently and regards you with a calm gaze.

"i understand now that this must be very confusing to you. we've burdened you without knowing. please accept our apologies."

you head shakes automatically and relief floods your veins, creating a small grin on your lips, "you didn't know. it's fine. so you… believe me? you don't think i'm crazy?"

"of course. this explains your hesitance and… aloofness."

"ahaha… sorry about that…"

"i'm sad that you don't remember the older times, but i believe you, [name]!" barbatos smiles, though it's not as bright as his previous ones.

"i... share the same sentiment," beelzebul fixes her gaze on you, "it appears there are some mysteries that need to be solved regarding this matter. but if i may be so insolent as to suggest, i think the matter of teyvat is more of a priority at this moment."

you understand what she meant by her words immediately, and a hopeless sigh left you.

"but i don't know what i'm supposed to do. do you really believe that i can save a whole world, when i've been living a normal life so far?" you raise your eyebrows at her, arms crossing loosely on the table as you lean forward onto it, "from my perspective at the moment, i'm powerless."

beel doesn't look at all convinced, but it was morax who speaks for her, his chin lightly resting on his other fingers which are curled underneath, as his index slowly taps onto the corner of his lips.

"if i may suggest a theory… perhaps you’ve just yet to regain back all of your powers upon setting your feet back into teyvat."

"but what if i don't have my powers anymore? or any powers whatsoever in the first place?"

"oh, but you certainly do. we're here in your abode, are we not?" he chuckles, eyes soft as his voice takes a nostalgic tone, "the sub-space creation was something you taught me a long time ago. this particular one was created by yourself. in fact, i've had the honor of visiting it quite a few times in the past, along with barbatos and a few others, to partake in various festivities hosted by yours truly…….. however, as i was saying, the sub-space needs to feed from the owner's power to continue to exist. so the fact that we're able to converse like this here…"

"aha! this realm itself is proof that you do have your powers!" barbatos exclaims, snapping his fingers in excitement and turning towards you as if waiting for your praise. across from him, beelzebul lightly pouts, and you have an inkling she's somehow upset that she's the only one who hasn't had the chance to meet you and be involved with whatever festivities morax talked about within this realm, a long time ago...

"i… i see. i didn't know that," you scratch your cheek and look down contemplatively at your crossed arms, "then… do you have any suggestions on how to… maybe regain my power? or see if it really is my power?"

"i believe getting reacquainted to teyvat itself should help. even i am not privy to the inner workings of your power, so i do not know much about it. but what i do know is that you're the one who initiates us as allogenes and you have a strong connection with teyvat, with it being your first ever creation."

you nod, knowing the implications behind his words and the pleading looks from the two sitting by your sides. they want you to visit teyvat. in the end, it all comes down to that.

"okay. i'll do it. mond, liyue, inazuma, sumeru, snezhnaya, natlan, fontaine - all seven of them, i'll go and hopefully we can figure out something."

suddenly, you blink and cast your gaze toward all three of them.

"by the way… where are the other four archons?"

a heavy silence blankets over the previously light atmosphere. another shiver travels up your spine upon seeing the solemn expressions of your beloved characters.

"[name]... though this is a regretful outcome, please understand that none of us wish for you to take the blame for it."

morax materializes a pouch sewn from some sort of intricate-looking cloth and unties the string keeping its contents from spilling, before letting them fall onto the table.

you can't help the horrified gasp that escapes your lips at the sight of four gnosis, each bearing different colors and yet all missing its luster.

green, red, and two shades of blue.

dendro, pyro, hydro and cryo.

your head spins.

"but," you barely manage to whisper; it feels like cotton is rapidly stuffing your lungs as you speak, "wh-what of the… their nations, their people-"

"i’m afraid…"

".... they’ve all been destroyed."

© genshrineimpact | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @paintingsofdragonspine | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies

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[dulcewrites]

Despite My Better Judgement

Summary: Your eccentric but kind hearted best friend tasks you with the duty of throwing “the best bachelorette party ever” in Wyoming of all places. An unexpected night with a brooding cowboy happens. (1.3k words)

Paring: Rhett Abbott x fem!reader (only thing mentioned is clothing)

Warnings: 18+ content, PIV (don’t interact if you’re a minor please and thank you), reader being insecure

A/N: This is my first work on my side writing blog. My first one, a top gun fic, is on my main blog. I think I’m gonna post all my ideas/writing on here. This is also my first time doing a reader insert. I also just want to say I see all of “my” characters as black (I plan on writing more stuff that outrightly depicts that) but anyone can read this. I think it is important for fellow black writers/writers of color to get support and have a space. Anyways I hope you guys like it. Please like, reblog, follow❤️

You are not boring nor stiff; you’re measured and pensive, two separate concepts. So when your best friend hints that her bachelorette party should be completely different from the one you had been planning, you can’t help but feel a spike anxious energy shiver up your spine.

Nature? Horses? Glam camping? Taking several born and raised city women (yourself included) to the backwoods of some Midwestern dude ranch was not for the faint hearted. But here you are are, adorned in a sparkly black cowboy hat and your best mini dress. Despite the lack of prep time and the initial shock of the idea, you’re actually having a good time.

“We need to get you laid,” Melody, the bride to be, giggles over the noise of the crowded bar. She fixes her white hat which stands out amongst the black ones of the rest of the bridal party.

“I thought this was a celebration of you becoming an honest woman. Not a plan to get someone to fuck me,” you down the rest your drink with a grimace.

Yeah it had been… some time. But it’s by choice!

“Why not both,” says Melody with a shrug as her eyes start dancing across the bar. “One night won’t kill you. God forbid you might actually meet someone you like.”

You roll your eyes. What’s the point of meeting someone kilometers away from your home base? Especially this late in the trip. Today was the second to last full day you and girls has in Wyoming. Plus the idea of going up to some guy and flirting was daunting.. even after the free drinks you’ve been giving (curtesy of nice patrons seeing the bridal party attire).

“I’m having a good time with just you guys. I mean how beautiful was the horse trail today,” You say, trying to change the subject quickly.

“That’s too bad you’re not up for it… sad eyes over there has been eyeing you for a minute,” Sasha chimes in, half nodding to the bar area to the left of table.

You find yourself sitting a little straighter, straining your neck to the left trying to discretely see what Sasha is talking about.

You make not do subtle eye contact with melancholy cerulean blue eyes slightly hidden by a big brown cowboy hat. You take in the boyish good looks and an obnoxious belt buckle. The staring is disrupted by him tipping his hat with a small smile.

Oh…

Melody let’s out a bit a of squeal and hits your arm.

“He’s cute. I recognize him from the rodeo we went to yesterday!"

She pats your arm encouragingly. You open your mouth, then close it. You know better than to try that. With a wave of your hand, you shut that down quickly.

After drinking some water after your drinks, you and Sasha excuse yourselves from the group to go to the bathroom.

“Maybe it’s tequila shots making me sappy but I wish you saw yourself the way others do,” Sasha sighs quietly as you both touch up your makeup.

You don’t really know how to respond to that. It’s not a new topic between you and friends. Your confidence is something you’re working on, but you still have moments where self-doubt can be all consuming. You squeeze Sasha’s hand hoping she realizes how much you appreciate her. How much appreciate all the girls, and this trip.

Her words continue to resonate in your head as you two leave the bathroom. Why wouldn't some that attractive be into you? You're a catch.

"I'm gonna go to the bar. Get a.... drink," you announce to the table. Melody raises an eyebrow with the knowing smile.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea as well," she says as fixes your hair after you take your hat off, and picks a piece of glitter from your dress.

"There! Go get em tiger!"

While you're walking over, you remember why you don't do this. Your stomach feels like it is gonna fall out of your ass when you sit down at the stool next to the handsome cowboy. How do you even start a conversation?

You are taken out of your thoughts quickly.

"Nice boots," his voice is smooth and soft despite the bustling energy of the bar.

Instinctively, you look down at the black heeled cowboy boots you have on. Maybe he finds the obnoxious but albeit cute bedazzled MOH on the side endearing.

"Thanks. Nice belt?" it comes out more like a question than you intended. He smile grows as he laughs.

"Appreciate it sweetheart. I'm Rhett"

He holds his drink out as a toast and you clank your drink with his as you tell him your name.

There's a period of silence as you contemplate what you're about to do next. You're in a state you've never been to, talking to a hot guy you've never met before tonight, about to do something you never do. First time for everything. You lean over trying to avoid his hat, lowering your voice to a whisper

"I'm gonna go to restroom. Maybe in a couple minutes you can come give me a hand with my dress?"

You get up before he can even reply. Your body feels hot as you walk to the crowed unisex bathroom, praying its empty.

As you wait in the cramped bathroom, it hits you that you just positioned a guy you don't know to come and fuck you. And despite how you're wired, instead of being embarrassed, you hope he gets the hint.

The pacing around the tiny bathroom is interrupted by Rhett coming in and locking the door behind him. His hat is gone, revealing longish dark hair.

He walks over slowly, pressing you against the wall.

"This is okay right?"

Hands working their way to your waist, and you answer his question by putting one hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down to a sloppy kiss.

He groans in your mouth as one of his hand leaves your waist and squeezes your ass. His large, rough hand works it way under your dress. Long fingers tug on your underwear to the ride before rubbing your wet folds. You mutter a curse against his lips.

As his lips work down you neck, you start fiddling with his huge belt; distracted as he push one finger inside of you. You finally get inside his jeans, stroking him through his boxers. Rhett's eyes flutter at your actions.

"Do you have a condom?" you ask as your hips buck against his hand rubbing it against for clit.

You whine when he pulls his finger out, putting it in his mouth a hum. He fishes about condom out of his wallet then pushes down his jeans and boxers.

"Turn around"

A shiver runs up your spine at his voice. Authoritative and warm. You turn around, sticking your ass out in anticipation. There's light shuffling before you feel his tip poking at your wet cunt.

Rhett bottoms out inside of you as you both let out satisfied sighs. He lets you adjust to the way he stretches you out before fucking into you.

He pins one hand behind your back as you hold onto the wall with the other. All that takes over your brain is the sound of him going in and out you, and the lewd moans you both are making. You desperately push back against his thrust.

"Fuck you take me so well"

The warm feeling in the pit of your stomach grows; you come with with a cry of his name. He continues to thrust into you as you ride out the warmth of your orgasm.

Rhett lets go of your wrist, bringing both hands to your waist. He comes with your ass flush to him.

You feel like your body is floating as your stand up straighter. You feel a kiss on your shoulder, and turn around to his lips back on yours. The kiss is sweet.

"We should probably stop hogging the bathroom," you say with a smile against his lips.

You both get cleaned up in a tranquil silence. It takes you by surprise when Rhett turns to you with a shy smile.

"Ummm, do you think I could see you tomorrow?"

Well, going against your better judgement went well once... what's one more time.

[baroquebucky]

idk if you’re taking requests but if you are could i get a loki one shot where the reader is super shy and quiet and the only person at the tower she really talks to is natasha but the others have tried and failed. but eventually loki comes to the tower and he gets her to trust him and she opens up to him?? or something along those lines lol i’m just in desperate need of some loki fluff🥺 also i absolutely adore your writing 🥰💓

a/n: yup yup ! i don’t write for loki much so i hope this isn’t too out of character !!

in which loki manages to break down your walls, magic free

word count: 2k

masterlist

You sat next to Natasha, quiet as the others laughed at the movie. You leaned over making a small comment to Natasha causing her to burst out laughing, the other looking over to see what had happened.

“tell them!” Natasha nudged you and you shook your head, looking at your hands as natasha repeated your comment, everyone bustling out into a fit of laughter.

“y/n is the funniest person here nobody can change my mind” Tony piped up, smiling at you as your face burned.

The rest of the night went smoothly, keeping to yourself and whispering to natasha, making her giggle.

“you really should try talking to the other y/n, they love you” nat urged you, walking to your rooms to settle in for the night. You shook your head, heart racing at the idea.

“no, i mean they seem nice it’s just i don’t know i get so nervous i don’t wanna make a fool out of myself and plus they’re so intimidating” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders as you stopped at your room.

“you know you’re an avenger too right?” Nat laughed as you rolled your eyes, waving her off and saying goodnight.

Morning rolled around soon enough and you walked out, steve and Sam saying good morning and you smiled at them, rushing to make a bowl fo cereal and sitting a couple seats away from them.

“so y/n what are you gonna do today?” Steve smiled, trying to make conversation with you.

You thought for a bit before answering, “not much, just train maybe uh, i might go shopping with nat later” you replied, ending the conversation and finishing up your food.

You excused yourself before they could say anything else.

“you know thor is brining his brother today” sam called out and you looked at him confused.

“battle of New York one?” You questioned and he nodded, you raised your brows in surprise.

“he’s good now, nice guy i think” steve added, not wanting to worry you. You only nodded your head and left the kitchen, going to train for the rest of the morning.

“is everybody here?” Thor boomed, a smile on his face as his brother stood next to him, arms crossed across his chest.

“where is y/n? Will she be joining us?” Thor questioned, slightly upset you weren’t there.

“I’ll get her she’s probably sleeping or something” Natasha smiled, heading to your room.

She knocked on your door, letting herself in after a couple seconds and found you passed out on your bed, a book next to your head.

Shaking you gently she woke you up, “y/n, wake up thor brought his brother Cmon” she spoke quietly as you stirred awake.

“what? what time is it?” you questioned, yawning and rubbing your eyes, looking around for a bit.

“3:12, you knocked out after our session this morning” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“told you i stayed up late” you defended, getting up and putting on some socks.

Natasha was in a t shirt and some sweats, so you figured your t shirt and shorts weren’t too bad. Surely the rest of the team was dressed casually too.

You entered the living room, still half asleep following Natasha, waving hi to everybody.

“now that everyone is here, this is loki, my brother! he’s a good guy now and since we’re gonna be splitting time between here and Asgard i figured a proper introduction was over due” Thor beamed at everyone.

“well hi loki, nice to uh- meet you, again” steve spoke up, trying to get the others to say hi.

“mm a pleasure” loki gave him a tight smile, you rolled your eyes at his tone. You finally looked at him, he was dressed in an all black suit and dress shoes, you scoffed at his outfit.

“you always dress like that?” You spoke up, upset that he had been rude to steve. Everyone’s eyes went wide, turning to face you and loki looked shocked.

“and you are?” Loki shot back, checking you out.

“y/n, and you should be nicer” you quipped, narrowing your eyes at him. Natasha smirked at loki, knowing how sassy you could be after a nap.

“you’ve got a quick wit, i like that” loki smiled and you rolled your eyes, shifting your weight onto your other leg.

As everyone else warmed up loki you stayed an arms length away, only speaking up when someone talked directly to you.

You slowly moved away from the group, turning to sneak away to your room. A smile on your face as you turned around, only to bump into someone’s chest.

“leaving my welcome party so soon, love?” Loki smiled as you stumbled back, eyes widening.

“how- you were just over there?” You gawked, looking back where you saw another loki sitting and chatting with the others.

“magic, did they not tell you about me darling?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“no yeah they did, just didn’t pay much mind is all” you smiled, crossing your arms across your chest.

“you know, they didn’t tell me much about you, why’s that?” Loki asked, leaning against the wall and you fiddlers with your fingers.

“don’t really talk to them much, i- uh I’m pretty reserved” you spoke, a wave of realization washing over you as you fully woke up.

“don’t seem that shy to me” he smirked and you shook your head.

“no i was just really tired I’m so sorry I’m usually not like that I’m so sorry oh god” you spoke, fumbling over your words as your face grew hot from embarrassment.

“don’t apologize, i liked it” he smiled, pushing himself off the wall and moving so the oath to your room was no longer blocked.

“cant wait to see you around y/n” he spoke, letting you walk past him, biting your lip to contain your smile.

And you sure did see him around, telling him good morning when he sat himself next to you during breakfast, sparring with him when he suggested it after walking into the gym.

Loki found himself gravitating towards you, wanting to know everything about you, your favorite color, your middle name, your biggest fears. He wanted to know you.

He was persistent, constantly talking to you and spending time with you, he found himself doing things he never thought he would just to spend time with you. It’s how he was in his current predicament.

“okay just don’t smile or else it’ll crack” you replied, finishing brushing the green face mask on him, letting him use one of your head bands, one with pink fluffy bunny ears (he chose it himself).

“how can i not smile when the most beautiful person in all the nine realms is right here” he replied, making you roll your eyes.

You settled into you before, scooting next to him and turning on your favorite show. Both of you watching attentively as your masks dried.

“can i ask you something?” Loki spoke suddenly, you turned to look at him, a small hum signaling to continue.

“why don’t you talk to the others?” He asked softly, taking your hand in his to comfort you.

You let a couple moments pass to gather your thoughts, finally speaking up.

“they’re just really intimidating to me, i mean i grew up admiring steve and the other have saved the world countless times, I’ve helped them once but i didn’t even play that big of a role, it’s just really daunting you know?” He looked at the way your fingers intertwined and held back a smile.

“how come you weren’t scared to talk to me?” you looked at him, laughing softly.

“oh no i was scared shitless, you just wouldn’t leave me alone so i really had no choice” you replied, looking at your hands connected.

“is that how Natasha got close to you?”

You nodded, remembering the way she pestered you until you two became the best of friends, never leaving each other’s side for a whole week.

“well, i hope you know that I’m not going anywhere” he spoke, moving to face you. Reluctantly, you looked at him, tension thick in the air.

“what makes you so sure?” You asked, looking into his eyes.

Both of you leaned in a little, your breath hitched in your throat as you leaned closer, and closer, and-

ding! ding! ding!

Both of you jumped away at the sound of the alarm, clearing your throats and moving to wash the face mask off.

After you had both washed off the mask you headed back to your bed, sitting down with some space between your bodies. The sound of the show filling the room, neither one of you saying anything.

“what do-”

“why do-”

You both quieted at the sound of the others voice, laughing a little as you both stopped. He motioned for you to continue.

“what do you think about me?” You asked, fiddling with your fingers and picking at your nails, glancing at him for a second before focusing back to on your fingers.

“i think” he trailed off, scooting closer to you, “that you are one of the most amazing people I’ve met, that you are kind, funny and exciting” he finished, your thighs touching as you looked up at him.

“really?” you whispered, dizzy from how close the two of you were.

“absolutely.”

“what were you gonna say?” you asked, giving him a small smile before focusing on the tv show.

“why are you so sure that I’m gonna leave?” He questioned, eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

“i- well i never open up to people so they always just leave” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows before continuing.

“when i was in high school and such i used to be really outgoing and loud, everyone would tell me to be quiet when i got excited so i just kinda stopped altogether, no one complained much then” you laughed dryly, remembering the way your friends would get annoyed at how bubbly you were.

“they all left me after i stopped being loud, said i was boring.”

Loki felt his heart fall in his chest, he was angry at you past friends, but he was sad that you had changed so much for people who didn’t appreciate you.

“darling, look at me” he spoke softly, eyes meeting yours.

“i promise you that no one here thinks you are too much, i mean we have that falcon guy and spider boy, i can assure you they won’t tell you to tone it down” he reassured you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“how about we make a deal” loki smirked and you looked at him with narrow eyes.

“what kind of deal” you asked, suspicious of what he would propose.

“you try to come out of your shell more, and I’ll be nicer to the rest of the team” he stated simply, smiling at the way you thought about his deal, he could almost see the gears turning in your head.

“deal” you smiled, turning to look at him and extending you hand out.

He took your hand and pulled you to him, stopping you centimeters away from his face.

“may i?” He asked, eyes focused on your lips.

“yeah” you whispered breathlessly, crashing your lips onto his.

You both pulled away, a smile on your faces, you laughed at the way he immediately pulled you in for more.

You and Loki left your room not long after, knowing the team would be out and about despite it being almost 12 am.

“hi guys” steve smiled and you returned it, walking at bit faster before loki stopped you.

“remember our deal?” he whispered and you internally groaned, nodding and walking over to steve, heart pounding in your chest.

“hi Steve how has your day been?” You smiled, steve was taken back but quickly replied, easily falling into conversation with you.

Loki watched from a far, a smile on his face as you laughed, making conversation with the super soldier. Natasha stood next the Norse god, a smile on her face.

“Glad you could get her out of her shell” she smiled, eyes settling on you talking with Steve and Sam who had joined in.

“she just needed an extra push” Loki smiled, excited to see you become who you really were. Natasha felt her heart grow, she couldn’t wait for the team to appreciate you for who you always have been.

[needtherapy]

Jiujiu Gets A Puppy

Wei Wuxian wants to get Jiang Cheng a gift.

He’s trying to be brave, okay? And no one can be afraid of dogs forever. Have you SEEN puppies?

There’s now a part 2! Mao’er Makes A Friend

Read more Kristina Writes Tiny Stories

“Please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to do this.” Wei Wuxian knew he was whining and hoped it worked.

It did not. 

“This was your idea,” Lan Zhan reminded him implacably. He continued to move up the stairs at an unnecessarily brisk pace, in Wei Wuxian’s opinion.

“It was a terrible idea. Why do we let me have ideas?” Wei Wuxian tugged Lan Zhan’s sleeve. 

“It is a good idea. A kind and thoughtful idea because you are a kind and thoughtful man.” 

Instead of pausing, Lan Zhan moved his arm around Wei Wuxian’s waist and propelled him forward.

“That’s not true. Ask anyone.”

Finally, Lan Zhan stopped. “Wei Ying. Do you truly want to leave?”

The genuine concern in his voice made Wei Wuxian feel guilty. He switched tactics.

“Why do I have to do it myself? Couldn’t we just have Jin Ling pick one out and send it to Jiang Cheng with our compliments?” He thought this was a particularly good plan, but Lan Zhan shook his head.

“Jin Ling said if you pick it out yourself, you will be less likely to be afraid when it grows up.”

“What if I’m afraid of it now?” The whining was back, and this time he actually meant it. The thought of going near a slobbering toothy monster weighed like a heavy stone in his gut.

“Wei Ying.” This time Lan Zhan’s voice was soft and soothing. He took Wei Wuxian’s hand and pulled him up the last stair. “They were only born a week ago. Jin Ling says you will be safe.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “What does he know? He’s a child.”

“Thanks, da-jiu.” The young man striding toward them had a frown on his face. “Now I am sorry I left the rest of my dogs inside.”

Attempting to distract Jin Ling from that terrifying thought, Wei Wuxian laughed and bypassed propriety, folding his nephew into an enthusiastic hug. Jin Ling accepted it for a brief moment, having learned it was hopeless to argue, before pushing Wei Wuxian away.

“Come on, then. Even you can’t hate a newborn puppy.”

Wei Wuxian hesitated, but his traitorous husband followed Jin Ling across the plaza, and eventually Wei Wuxian had to jog to catch up.

To his surprise, they didn’t go to the dog yards behind the stables. One of the first things Jin Ling had done after officially being named the Lanling Jin zongzhu was to start getting dogs. It had seriously made Wei Wuxian doubt his nephew’s sanity, but he had to admit, it was nice of Jin Ling to build the low, tidy buildings to keep the dogs when Wei Wuxian visited. The gesture had made for a peaceful three years of visits.

Instead, they headed through one of the inner courtyards of Lanling Tower to the guest quarters that were set aside for his and Lan Zhan’s use. 

“We can only stay for a few minutes. They’re too young to be away from their mother for very long and I thought you’d rather not encounter a full grown dog,” Jin Ling explained as they entered the room, and Wei Wuxian looked at him suspiciously, the words sounding a bit too much like mocking.

There was a huge wooden box in the center of their room and it was making noise. A squeaking noise. Wei Wuxian decided he would be fine here by the door, but he didn’t get a choice.

“I know you’re rolling your eyes,” he complained when Lan Zhan tucked an arm around Wei Wuxian’s elbow and dragged him forward.

“Da-jiu, just sit here,” Jin Ling said, gesturing to a wide cushion on the floor. “I’ll bring you a puppy.”

“Lan Zhan, just sit here,” Wei Wuxian said, gesturing to the cushion, and without rolling his eyes, Lan Zhan did, letting Wei Wuxian settle in front of him.

He knew it was foolish, to be a grown man afraid of dogs. He had fallen from the sky into hell. He had died. He had watched so many people he loved leave him and yet it was always the sound of barking, the expected flash of teeth, the feral eyes that made reason abandon him. He scooted backward until he ran into Lan Zhan. 

Lan Zhan. 

Lan Zhan. 

He repeated the name over and over in his head, a calming mantra, while he watched Jin Ling. His nephew’s face looked completely different crouched next to the box. He was softer, his mouth tipped in a sweet smile, and Wei Wuxian could suddenly imagine him as a toddler. Or a child, being handed his first dog by his uncle, and Wei Wuxian was suddenly sorry that it hadn’t been him.

And then Jin Ling was sitting in front of him, and Wei Wuxian felt Lan Zhan’s steading hand in the middle of his back.

“Their eyes are just starting to open, but this one’s hasn’t yet,” Jin Ling told Wei Wuxian, holding out his cupped hands.

Wei Wuxian didn’t really want to touch it, but he couldn’t help it. It was so small, it could hardly be called a dog at all. It made a strange grunting noise when he touched its nose, and he jumped, looking at Jin Ling with worry.

“Is it okay? Should it make that noise?”

Jin Ling was clearly making an effort to be patient. “She’s fine. She’s just a baby. Puppies are hungry all the time, so anytime you touch their face, they think you’re going to feed them. I’m going to hand her to you now, okay? Please don’t drop my puppy.”

Oh, that was a bad idea. That was a much worse idea. He tried to say no, but Lan Zhan interrupted him.

“Hold the puppy, Wei Ying, and I will hold your hands.”

Jin Ling slid the puppy into Wei Wuxian’s cupped hands, supported by Lan Zhan’s hands, and it made the noise again, this time accompanied by wiggling on his palms like a fat furry fish. He could feel her tiny toes digging into his skin, but it didn’t hurt, just tickled. He looked at Jin Ling, who was hiding a smile.

Wei Wuxian held the puppy up a little higher and peered into her black and white face. As Jin Ling had said, her eyes were closed, and her ears were barely even triangles. She had a pink nose with a black smudge under it, right above her frowning mouth.

“She has eyebrows,” Wei Wuxian said in surprise. “And a mustache.”

Lan Zhan moved his hand to pet the puppy’s back and she squirmed again, grunting and crying, tracking the touch with her wobbly head. Wei Wuxian felt Lan Zhan’s delighted inhale, and he gave in a little. He was not going to admit out loud that the puppy was cute, but she was. She was very cute. He wanted to sniff the puppy and pet her nose again, but before he could make a complete fool of himself, Jin Ling moved to take her back, returning her to the box.

“Well, da-jiu? Still scared?”

“They grow up,” Wei Wuxian argued, without answering the question. “They grow up and bite.” “Not if you raise them well and give them love,” Jin Ling retorted. “Only if you starve them and treat them badly. Are you planning to starve and abuse the puppy?” Wei Wuxian glared at Jin Ling, who glared back before raising his eyebrows and laughing.

“You like her! Da-jiu, I’m proud of you. Come look at all of them.”

He was being condescended to by a child, Wei Wuxian thought, but he didn’t resist when Jin Ling grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the box to stare down at five wriggling potatoes. They were all different colors, from the black and white one he had held to one that was almost completely white. One rolled on its back, exposing a spotted belly, and it snorted irritably until Jin Ling turned it back over.

“Next time you come, you can pet one of the other ones. They should all have their eyes open by then. Hanguang-Jun, will you make sure he comes back every week until they’re ready to go to new homes? It should be about four months.” “Four months?” Wei Wuxian yelped, but Jin Ling would not be dissuaded.

“Four,” he said firmly. “They’ll be weaned and trained by then. I won’t let you give one of my dogs to jiujiu until it’s been properly trained.”

“I always knew you’d be a tyrant,” Wei Wuxian muttered, following Lan Zhan back out into the courtyard.

“Well, then you shouldn’t have saved my life,” his nephew reminded him cheerfully.

Wei Wuxian turned to grab Jin Ling’s arm, remembering something serious. “Jin Ling, don’t tell Jiang Cheng. If...if I can’t do it...when they get bigger...I don’t want him to be disappointed.”

Jin Ling looked at him with his mother’s face when he patted Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “I won’t. But you won’t disappoint him.”

It was daunting to have Jin Ling have such faith and trust in him, and Wei Wuxian took a deep breath.

“Fine. I’ll be back.”

Wei Wuxian was quiet on the walk back down the tower stairs and when they got to the bottom, Lan Zhan stopped him, angling his head curiously, waiting for Wei Wuxian to say whatever it was he was thinking.

“Do you really think this is a good idea? Or will it just remind him of all the dogs he couldn’t have because of me?”

Lan Zhan’s forehead creased in consideration, and Wei Wuxian loved him for taking his question seriously. “Yes. It is a good idea. Moving forward is a good idea.”

When Wei Wuxian still didn’t look convinced, Lan Zhan sighed. “Do you want to walk or fly with me?”

The question got the response it intended. “Fly, please.”

“Does flying with me make you happy? Or does it remind you of all the times you could not?” Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes. “Well, it didn’t until now,” he grumbled. “Fine, you’re right. It’s a good idea. Are we still going to fly home?”

In answer, Lan Zhan pulled him onto Bichen and Wei Wuxian wrapped his arms around Lan Zhan’s waist, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Are you proud of me too?” he whispered, not sure if Lan Zhan would hear him, but of course he did. He always did.

“Of course I am. I always am.”

And that was enough.

[lostcoves]

ft. tendou satori x fem!reader

genre: fluff & a lil angst 

wc & warnings: 3.1k | none

premise: tendou satori has a massive crush on you. could performing with you in beauty and the beast be his chance to finally get with you?

tendou satori loved you.

plain and simple, he loved you. he loved the way you walked, the way you talked, everything about you screamed beauty and grace. you laughed at his poor jokes and smiled whenever he smiled at you.

tendou didn’t understand why you were so kind to him.

you were a beauty while he was a beast.

an irony that would come forth during shiratorizawa academy’s annual charity fundraiser. 

“hello i’m (l/n) (f/n) from the drama club!” you greeted tendou’s homeroom class one cloudy morning. tendou was in the middle of trying to balance a pencil on his finger when you began to speak about the annual charity fundraiser. apparently, the drama club was putting on a musical and needed more male participants.

“you should try out, tendou-san!” his classmate– a freckle faced boy by the name of kawasaki hitoshi– proposed to tendou. tendou paused from balancing his pencil and asked, “huhhhhh? how come?”

“cuz everyone knows about your massive crush on (l/n)-san,” kawasaki snickered. other boys joined in on the snickering and kawasaki exclaimed to you, “(l/n)-san! tendou-san will participate!”

your eyes brightened at the mention of tendou’s name, “really?!”

“well, i mean– oh thank you, tendou-san!” you cut him off with an embrace. tendou’s cheeks turned as red as his hair at your touch, you were so soft and squishy. you released tendou from the hug (much to his dismay) and handed him a flyer, “auditions are tomorrow! can’t wait to see you there!”

tendou watched as you scurried off to the next classroom before examining the flyer. it was in bright, obnoxious colors with the words ‘BEAUTY AND THE BEAST AUDITIONS’ in bold. 

oh the irony.

─────────────────

“you’re trying out for a musical, tendou-senpai?!” goshiki yelled at tendou during lunch. tendou shot him a stare and signaled him to lower his voice. goshiki covered his mouth and nodded before resuming his eating. 

ushijima, reon, and semi stared at tendou and the four didn’t speak, unsure of what to say to one another.

“will this interfere with volleyball practice?” ushijima asked.

“i don’t think so,” replied tendou before picking up a chunk of white rice, “the practices would be during school hours since it’s a charity event and what not.”

ushijima nodded, “good. you should do it then.”

tendou choked on his rice, “are you serious?”

semi nodded along in agreement, “i think so too. i mean, why not? now you’ll have an excuse to be around (l/n)-san without being a creep.”

tendou scoffed at semi’s commentary and fought the urge to give him the finger. reon chuckled at the exchanged and added his two cents, “i think it would be a great idea, as well. it would also look great on college applications from a community service and extracurriculars side of things.”

“not you too, reon..” tendou groaned, “i’m not–”

“hi, tendou-san!”

tendou nearly screamed and whipped his head around to see you standing behind him, smiling happily. tendou cleared his throat and attempted to be a cool guy, “heyyyyyy, (l/n)-san! what’s uppppp!”

“just wanted to say hi!” you answered, batting those gorgeous lashes of yours, “you’re still coming to auditions tomorrow, right?”

tendou looked back at his friends, all of which gave him double thumbs up.

“yeah, of course! wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

tendou just dug his own grave.

─────────────────

tendou nearly forgot how big shiratorizawa’s auditorium was. it felt daunting, as he stepped inside and made a beeline towards the stage. a group of students stood by the stage, practicing their lines and singing their songs. 

“tendou-san! you made it!” tendou looked down and saw you approaching him. he swallowed his nerves and greeted you with a smile, “heyyyyy, (l/n)-san! how you doing today?”

“i’m doing great!” you answered, “are you ready for your audition?”

“yup!” tendou smiled, “but if you don’t mind me asking, (l/n)-san, who are you trying out for?”

“i’m going for belle!”

the lead? of course, you would get the lead. tendou remembered seeing you perform in the blossoming of kamiya etsuko where you played the titular character. you brought tears to the audience’s eyes with your amazing performance. 

“oh that’s cool! i– er.. i’m going for the beast!”

damnit, tendou! were you trying to embarrass yourself?

your eyes sparkled like diamonds at tendou’s words, “really?!”

tendou masked his anxiety with a laugh, “haha! for sure!”

“i can’t wait to see you perform!” you gave tendou a high five, “break a leg!”

oh he would break a leg, all right. hopefully, in a literal fashion.

─────────────────

“tendou satori?” the director– an over zealous english teacher by the name of hasegawa ryuji– called tendou onto the stage. tendou felt like his legs were jelly, wobbling with each step he took. he gripped onto his sheet music tightly, as he made his way on stage. 

“what song will you be singing for us today?” hasegawa-sensei grinned. 

“i’ll be singing–” tendou scanned the crowd and found you among a group of girls. you locked eyes with him and mouthed, ‘break a leg! you got this!’ to him, “–if i can’t love her.”

not many people knew tendou’s secret but he took vocal lessons from the ripe age of five and until he entered high school. his parents forced him to go in an effort to improve his social skills and make him more approachable. while it didn’t improve his social skills, tendou gained a nice singing voice.

“you can begin at the start of the music.”

tendou took a deep breath.

do it for (y/n).

the music began to play.

and in my twisted face there's not the slightest trace of anything that even hints of kindness and from my tortured shape no comfort, no escape i see, but deep within is utter blindness

tendou’s voice was gentle yet powerful.

hopeless as my dream dies as the time flies love a lost illusion helpless unforgiven cold and driven to this sad conclusion

tendou pictured all those times people made fun of his looks. every person who laughed at him, every person who shunned him. he channeled that into his singing and thought of you, you with your kind nature and you with your warmth.

no beauty could move me no goodness improve me no power on earth, if i can't love her no passion could reach me no lesson could teach me how I could have loved her and make her love me too if i can't love her, then who?

who would love him? tendou was but a beast. hideous and unworthy. 

long ago i should have seen all the things i could have been careless and unthinking, i moved onward

tendou looked out among the crowd and stared at you. 

no pain could be deeper no life could be cheaper no point anymore, if i can't love her no spirit could win me no hope left within me hope i could have loved her and that she'd set me free hut it's not to be if i can't love her let the world be done with me

i could only wish you could love me, (y/n).

the music came to an end and a shush fell over the auditorium. tendou’s cheeks flushed a warm red, did he mess up?

applause suddenly exploded among the crowds. tears were in the eyes of hasegawa-sensei, “that was amazing, tendou-san! your voice was just perfect!”

“o- oh!” tendou cleared his throat, “thanks..”

he could only hope he was good enough to get the role.

─────────────────

“are you going to check the cast list?” ushijima asked a few days after the auditions. tendou saw people crowding outside hasegawa-sensei’s classroom, the bulletin board containing the cast list for beauty and the beast.

“i rather not,” the redhead grumbled. 

“tendou-san!”

tendou perked up at the sound of his name. it was you, standing before him with that dazzling smile of yours. 

“wanna check the cast list with me?” you offered to tendou. 

how could he say no to you?

“sure thing!” he chuckled before approaching the cast list with you. the crowd parted like the red sea upon your arrival. tendou’s eyes started from the bottom of the list, thinking he got an ensemble role.

“hey tendou-san?”

“yes, (l/n)-san?”

“look up.”

tendou looked at the top of the cast list and choked when he read who got the role of the beast.

TENDOU SATORI – THE BEAST 

his eyes darted up above it and tendou nearly fainted.

(L/N) (F/N) – BELLE

tendou was in for a whirlwind.

─────────────────

tendou paced outside the auditorium, unsure if he should head inside. today was the first of ten six hour rehearsals for the musical and tendou was panicking. should he face the music or cower in fear?

“tendou-san? are you okay?”

shit, it was you. tendou couldn’t let you see him like this. he plastered on a grin and turned around to greet you, “hiya (l/n)-chan! how you doing!”

“i’m fine–” you cut yourself short, “–oh, (l/n)-san? that’s a new one. i like it.”

tendou laughed nervously, adverting his gaze from you. damnit, why did you have such an effect on him? 

“well, i’m heading to rehearsal so come along,” you grabbed him by the hand and dragged tendou into the auditorium. you were surprisingly strong for such a short person, or at least someone shorter than tendou. 

the auditorium was jam-packed with students conversing excitedly about the show. tendou felt as if he was the only one not completely invested in the show. after all, he only auditioned for you.

“attention, cast members!” hasegawa-sensei called everyone’s attention. he then launched into some speech about rules and expectations, to which tendou toned out. all he could focus on was you. 

rehearsal went by at an agonizingly slow pace. tendou managed to introduce himself to the rest of the cast, most of which knew him from the volleyball team. still unused to the environment, tendou stuck by your side like a lost puppy dog. 

tendou remembered sprinting out of the auditorium the moment hasegawa-sensei dismissed everyone from rehearsal. he wasn’t sure how he was gonna balance schoolwork, volleyball, and the musical. but the one thing he did was it would be worth it to spend more time with you.

nighttime fell over shiratorizawa academy by the time tendou got out of volleyball practice. he dragged himself out of the gym, not even bothering to see his goodbyes to his teammates from how exhausted he was. 

“tendou-san?” you approached the redhead outside the gym. tendou rubbed the guck out of his eyes and waved to you, “oh hey, (l/n)-san.”

“tired?” you offered tendou a sympathetic smile.

tendou nodded and let out a yawn, “very.”

“here,” you handed tendou some canned coffee, “this should help.”

“thanks,” he cracked it open and took a generous sip. tendou let out a satisfied sigh and smiled, “this is some good coffee.”

“glad you like it!” you returned tendou’s smile. tendou could feel his chest tightening at the sight, you were just.. beautiful. it wasn’t fair, you were too beautiful for this world.

“oh, by the way.. whatcha doing outside the gym?” tendou questioned to you.

your cheeks heated up, maybe from the cold air or maybe from embarrassment, “i– i just wanted to tell you that you did a great job at rehearsal today! that’s why..”

tendou’s chest tightened at the praise, “oh really? that means a lot, coming from you!”

“of course!” you brushed back a loose hair from your face, “and i wanted to extend an offer to you.”

“oh?” now tendou was intrigued. 

“if you need any help with rehearsing our one on one scenes, i’m more than happy to help! like our kissing scene!”

tendou grinned, “alrighty! thanks, (l/n)-chan!”

wait, rewind.

kissing scene?

─────────────────

tendou paced about outside of the auditorium. rehearsals were half way through and tendou had yet to confront the fact that he had to kiss you in the show. he should have had read the script ahead of time; what did he get himself into now?

“tendou-san, are you alrighty? you look pale in the face,” hasegawa-sensei greeted tendou by the doors to the auditorium. tendou nearly puked on his shoes but put up his typical tendou satori charade, “oh hey, sensei! how– er.. how are you doing?”

“i’m fine. tendou, what’s wrong? you can be honest with me,” answered hasegawa-sensei with a frown. tendou broke character and confessed to his director, “i’m scared about the kissing scene.”

hasegawa-sensei patted tendou on the back, “oh, it’s more than fine to have some first time jitters! if it makes you feel better, it will be a stage kiss. you won’t actually be kissing (l/n)-san.”

tendou wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or disappointed.

“tendou-san? hasegawa-sensei?” speak of the devil– or in your case, the angel.

“morning, (l/n)-san! ready for rehearsal?” hasegawa-sensei turned his attention to you with a grin. you nodded and fist-pumped the air, “ready as i could ever be! we got this today! right, tendou-san?”

“yup!” he chirped in response, trying his hardest to conceal his fear. 

did tendou really got this?

─────────────────

tendou laid on the auditorium’s dirty stage, eyes closed and pretending to be dead. this was the moment where he would be revived by true love’s kiss. he anxiously waited for you to pretend kiss him.

“please don’t leave me.. come back,” you stage-whispered your line, leaning in to “kiss” tendou on the forehead.

then the worst thing imaginable happened. 

some dust from the stage floor got up into tendou’s nose and he jerked upwards in an attempt to sneeze. his lips collided with yours in a messy kiss, the two of you kissing one another with wide eyes. 

tendou could only stare when you pulled away with wide eyes. he felt like vomiting, as the crowd in the auditorium fell silent. hasegawa-sensei broke the silence and exclaimed, “take five, people!”

tendou stormed out of the auditorium with you hot on his tail. he managed to find a quiet place to hide when you appeared, covering his face in shame. tendou looked back up at you and his voice croaked, “hey.. (l/n)-san..”

“what happened (l/n)-chan?” you asked. 

“i don’t think i have the right to call you that after what happened,” grumbled tendou in embarrassment. you took a seat next to him and rested your head against his shoulder, “hey it’s okay! i know it was an accident! the stage floor is so dusty, it’s only natural for you to sneeze.”

“that was my first kiss.”

“what?” you blinked once, then twice. your face erupted in a fierce blush, “oh– oh my god! it was?! d– did i take your f– first kiss?!”

“hey, hey!” tendou gently gripped you by the shoulders in an effort to calm you now. you stared at him with an erratic look in your eyes, “i– i’m so sorry! you should have had your first kiss with someone special!”

but you’re someone special, (y/n)-chan.

“i’m glad it was you.”

“wh– what?” you stammered.

“i’m glad my first accidental kiss was with you, (y/n)-chan,” tendou replied. 

your face flushed at his words, “n– now, i’m (y/n)-chan? god, y– you’re gonna be the death of me, tendou-san..”

“you can call me satori if you want,” tendou commented to you.

you smiled, “well.. okay, satori-kun. let’s head back to the auditorium.”

god, you were going to be the death of tendou satori.

and you two haven’t practiced the second kiss yet.

─────────────────

today was the day, opening night for shiratorizawa academy’s production of beauty and the beast. tendou was being held hostage by the makeup crew, as they applied his beast makeup. it itched, the fake fur itched against his skin. 

“we need tendou on stage in five!” the stage manager called for him. tendou rose from the makeup chair and examined himself in the mirror. the makeup crew did a great job, he truly looked like a beast. 

“ready to wow the crowd, satori-kun?” tendou turned around and found you standing in the doorway, dressed in belle’s village girl costume. god, you looked adorable. 

“ready whenever you are,” tendou gave you a thumbs up. you returned the thumbs up with a smile and extended a hand to tendou, “let’s wow this crowd.”

tendou took your hand and squeezed it, “let’s wow this crowd.”

the musical progressed quite smoothly, tendou nailing every line of dialogue and music. the crowd was mesmerized by his singing voice and acting skills, as well as yours. 

then it was time, time for the kisses.

tendou laid motionlessly on the ground, thankful that the tech crew dusted the floor beforehand. no more accidental kisses! you approached his still body with heartbreak in your eyes, “please don’t leave me.. come back.”

tendou felt your sweet lips against his forehead, his eyes opening wide and the music playing to play. he “transformed” before the crowd, morphing from a hideous beast into a handsome prince. 

tendou stood before you, dressed in his princely garments and smiling bright, “belle,” he greeted you breathlessly. 

nerves overtook tendou’s mind, as the second kiss– the kiss on the lips– quickly approached. he took a step forward and covered both of your lips with his hands, just as hasegawa-sensei taught him. 

then something unexpected happened.

you pressed your lips against his, a full blown kiss. tendou remained still as possible, unsure what to do. you– his crush– were kissing him. you were kissing him, tendou satori of all people.

fuck it, he thought to himself and allowed himself to get lost in the kiss. the curtains closed on the two of you kissing. tendou didn’t pull away, too into the kiss to realize what was happening. 

“wow,” tendou whispered when the kiss was broken. you touched your forehead to tendou’s and giggled, “that was great, satori-kun.”

“that almost felt.. real,” he sighed with a smile.

“that’s because it was,” you answered, “i like you, tendou satori.”

everything came to a standstill the moment those words came out of your mouth. you liked him? you liked tendou? for real? you weren’t kidding? you actually liked him for him?

“i like you, (l/n) (f/n),” tendou finally responded after a moment. you broke out into a grin and kissed him again, the two of you unaware that the curtains were rising. a shush fell over the crowd at the sight. you two didn’t realize that your mics were on for the long exchange.

“go tendou! go (l/n)!” 

the silence broke. the crowd erupted in cheers, essentially derailing the show. you and tendou looked out onto the crowd sheepishly, both of you holding one another’s hands.

the beast got with the beauty.

tendou couldn’t have asked for a better ending. 

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter fourteen

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 2075

For the days to come, Levi remained calm and cold. It was difficult to hide your protests and questions behind your tongue, but when he arrived one night with one teacup instead of two, you grew exhausted of fighting. In fact, the two of you rarely shared anything more than smalltalk, which was the most disheartening product of the newfound awkwardness between you and Levi. Really, disheartening was the least of emotions you could assign to this new mode of interaction -- it was miserable.

It was nearly impossible to accept that the relationship may never return to its previous tranquility; however, this was the hard truth. As your leg grew closer to normal than injured, it was undeniable that you would soon be returning to life among your peers -- the dining hall, training exercises, expeditions outside the walls. Though daunting, it was the inevitable -- likely coming as early as this morning, as terrifying, exciting, anxious and wonderful as that may sound. Although one part of you was as excited as ever to get back in the field with your comrades, the simple comfort you achieved within the walls of the infirmary had become your personal normal. You shuttered at the thought of sharing a room with fifty other girls, without room for moonlight visitors and warm, comforting company. Without room for Jean.

Without room for Levi.

Your mind, though wandering, seemed as if it always led in a meandering circle back to him. It was a stark change in thought -- a chat in the Captain's office was once your definition of a nightmare. Now you wished for just one more shared grin over a lukewarm teapot. It was almost embarrassing.

Maybe, you considered often, his feelings did not change as yours did. Perhaps you did look too far into it. In fact, he likely still saw you as the same nuisance he did a month ago, and nothing you ever saw in him and his softened grey eyes was any more than a delusion. You were another young girl with wild feelings for her superior. He was used to that. Then you remembered his hand on yours, how he poured your tea, how he drew circles along your body as you "slept," and remembered again that it was impossible to imagine how he cared for you. The key word, of course, was the past-tense "cared."

At times, your restless mind brought forward the offhanded thought that Eren did care for you. You would remember how you cast him aside without a chance, and then only a week later were you pining after Levi like a schoolgirl with a crush. Maybe that was proof that you didn't deserve that kind of relationship; maybe you were stupid to shoo Eren away like a dog that got a bit too playful. But, however fortunate or unfortunate it may be, the past is unchanging. Not that that made the present any less of a confusing, painful mess. Sometimes it felt like it made it even worse.

---

The smell of the dining hall rushed over you before realization settled. You walked next to Jean -- not holding onto him, or using him to support you every few steps, actually walking. It felt nice. Though you made friendly and funny conversation, you knew he could sense your clear apprehension. Before you entered, he squeezed your shoulder in one hand and shot you a comforting grin.

You noticed a few eyes trailing over at you as you walked to pick up your tray; it didn't bother you. You expected some of those outside your circle to wonder about how you had been -- the news of you saving Jean's life would've been talked about at least a few times. What bothered you was that a certain pair of grey eyes never bothered to look away from Erwin, even when you passed straight by where he sat. Was the disinterest real?

You took your tray from the line and peered down at it: soup, bread, and a potato. Same as always. You wondered how Sasha always made it seem so appetizing. Jean led you over to the table you spent two long weeks without -- everyone greeting you with a smile and Sasha with a hug. You sat amongst your friends with an unpreventable grin, their excited "hello"s giving you the bit of joy you needed to keep going that day. You fielded their questions about your time at the infirmary with boring half-truths, trying your best to avoid the secret you entrusted only with Jean. You began to realize how difficult it was to separate your time in the infirmary from talks of your time spent with Levi.

Every so often, you found your eyes trailing over to where he sat, your line of sight grazing his raven-colored hair. You remembered how messy it was that morning after he spent the night. It brought the beginnings of a frown to your face. Against your better judgement, you allowed yourself to ponder on why he hadn't so much as glanced in your direction; was he not concerned for you as everyone else was? You had even met eyes once with Mike and Reiner, and yet Levi was not the slightest bit curious about you?

It pulled your spirits down rather quickly, the joy brought on by your friends dwindling down each time you allowed yourself to gaze at the puzzling and infuriating man across the room. Jean followed your eyes once or twice, seeing your face fall a bit lower each time. He tossed his arm around you, pulling you close; he tried to make it as casual as possible, while still giving you as much comfort as he could.

You leaned into him and closed your eyes, trying your hardest to rid Levi from even the furthest parts of your mind. This was a happy day -- you shouldn't let your infatuation with him ruin that. Jean rubbed your shoulder with his thumb inconspicuously, as if to tell you everything would be alright.

Unbeknownst to you, he saw Levi's head turn to gaze at you for a few seconds -- not an offhanded or accidental glance. The look in his eyes could most closely be described as wistful. When his eyes met Jean's, he looked away briskly, returning to his conversation with Erwin as if he had never even noticed you.

---

Sparring with Christa was nowhere near challenging, but you understood why you were paired with her. Your superiors still worried about your injury and likely would in the coming weeks; still, you had hoped for at least a little bit of a challenge. Hange was leading the activity, scanning across the scouts to make corrections or shout words of encouragement. To your dismay, however, Levi hung idly by, eyes focusing dead on one soldier at a time, presumably determining each individual weakness and scolding them in the confines of his mind.

You had begun to goof off, laughing at a joke Christa told and hardly trying to land any hits. If anything, it was entertaining. You worried you would grow tired too quickly during training, anyway; maybe easing into it was best.

You dodged another weak punch, laughing as her eyes grew jokingly narrower. It seemed as if no one else around was having as much fun as you were -- focused in on their partner and trying their hardest to look like they were the best. You watched Mikasa's unwavering stare at Sasha, who evaded her as best she could. Then you turned your eyes to Jean and Eren, their hits getting a bit too real and anger replacing focus. It made you laugh again.

You and Christa elected to take a small break, sipping from your canteens and chatting about your walking lessons with Hange. You froze mid-smile as you heard a certain voice call out your name from several yards away -- Levi.

You stood, screwing the lid back onto your water and laying it down on the ground. "Yes?" you replied, your eyes meeting his for the first time in days. They didn't look happy.

He approached you with a glare until he stood only a foot from you, his voice lowering with the distance. "What are you doing?" he asked, his eyebrows drawn together.

"Um --" you started, unsure of exactly what he was asking, "I'm taking a break?"

"I've seen much more talking than training. You don't seem tired in the slightest. Why are you taking a break?" he demanded, his arms folding over his chest.

His words puzzled you -- why does he care if you take a break? You were recently injured. None of your other superiors would object to a bit of rest on your first day back. Nonetheless, the fire of his anger had never once failed to light the match within you. "Who are you to tell me if I'm tired? Fuck, Levi, I just got out of the infirmary. Give me a break."

He shook his head, exhaling loudly to make his annoyance clear. "Captain. We should test it to see what you look like when you're actually tired enough for a break. Do you think ten laps would do it?"

"You can't be serious. That's bullshit and you know it," you grumbled, hands balling into fists at your side.

"What's bullshit is the way you're treating this training exercise as a game. Ten laps. Now."

Maybe things really were returning to normal. It almost made you want to laugh.

---

As you laid in your bed that night -- finally your bed -- you replayed the events of the day like a movie. The girls inhabiting the beds around you were long asleep, the moon peering through the window and reminding you that you would be awake and staring up at it for hours to come.

It was your first night without him. Even when your relationship had crumbled into nothing, he still came to sit at your side. And you still found an easy journey to your dreams each and every night. Of course, you knew there would be a time when he wasn't there and the nights grew long yet again -- you just didn't expect these negative emotions overtaking your mind to assist in depriving you of much-needed sleep.

Your anger with Levi had yet to subside, your legs aching from all the running he had you do. You considered for a moment marching over to his suite and giving him a piece of your mind; you thought of reminding him of the moments the two of you had shared just so he had to make the contrast in how he was acting now. You wanted to yell at him, and you wanted him to yell back, and you wanted to be angry. You didn't understand why he had all the freedom in the world to be a dick to you and all you could do was stand there and take it.

Maybe when you were done yelling at each other, you could curl up in his bed and get a good night's rest. You could kill two birds with one stone and avoid the seven or eight nightmares that were guaranteed to keep you awake and alert until morning. What a rock and a hard place situation -- for the man that made you more angry than you had ever been to simultaneously be your only solace from insomnia. It infuriated you even further.

As you had already done three times before, you decided against it. Arguing with him wasn't worth it. Again, the past was unchanging. Your anger was quickly replaced with the sadness the night frequently brought along, your thoughts traveling yet again to your feelings for Levi and your longing for him to share them.

You were wary, at best, for the long night ahead of you; you were sick and tired of long nights. Part of you hoped to break your right leg tomorrow, so you could have a little bit more time to solve it all and get some sleep while you were at it. You were even warier for the weeks to come, knowing that you would be forced to come to terms with the situation as it was.

Levi, Levi, Levi. If everything else was going back to how it was before, why couldn't you take your mind off of him?

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

The Angel Nextdoor

Pairing: Artist!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: This is the first Tom fic I’ve ever posted and I’m a little nervous, but I’m really proud of it. I hope you guys really like it, I’d love to hear your feedback. Now, this is my Valentine’s day special, and I know what you’re thinking, “Ashley, how can you post a Valentine’s say special on February 15th? It doesn’t make any sense.”. But to that I say, you’ve just never seen this kind of innovation, I’m an artist and I have to take risks like this sometimes. I hope you can understand, love you all xx

Summary: Tom’s latest assignment might just give him the push he needs to finally confess his feelings. 

Masterlist

Promt list

//

“This is the handout for your final, we’re going to talk about it more next class, but for now just look this over and start brainstorming,” Ms. Miller passed a stack of papers down the row with a smile, “You’ll have a full month to work on it so I expect really polished pieces for this.”

Tom glanced over the requirements before settling at the prompt.

��Paint someone close to you (friend, family member, significant other, ect…) in the style of their favorite artist or painting.’

It seemed simple enough, and he could think of a handful of people to ask. Definitely not family, he didn’t want to travel home and back that frequently. He could ask Harrison, and he was sure he would say yes, but there was one person who really stuck out in his mind. It was (y/n) of course, who better to paint than the most beautiful person in the world? And could anyone really expect an artist like him not to want to paint the object of her affection? Of course actually doing it was a different story. Asking her to let him paint her was a daunting task, one Tom was sure he couldn’t complete. So he was going to paint Harrison.

“Try to come to class with a narrowed down list of who you may end up painting, you’ll need to know for sure by Friday,” Ms. Miller sighed as the class began packing up, “I’ll see you all on Wednesday.”

Tom shoved everything in his bag and went straight for the dinning hall, where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) for lunch. He debated again trying to ask her, but quickly shoved the thought from his mind. She had inspired his work before certainly, it was inevitable that she’d inspire him, or her image would wander to his mind when he was working, but he had never painted her. Of course he wanted to paint her directly, but it was intimate, it always felt wrong to do without her permission. Just asking to paint her surely would have revealed his feelings too, something he wanted to do on his own terms, when he was ready, with concrete proof that she liked him back and he wouldn’t embarrass himself.

“That’s not a happy face,” Harrison hummed as Tom sat down in front of him, “Bad grade or something?”

“No, we just got our final already,” he sighed, letting his bag fall besides him.

“Already?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she wants it to be really polished.”

“Does it seem really hard?”

“It’s nothing I can’t do, I’m gonna need your help though.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve seen me paint before right?”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Obviously not with that. I’m just supposed to paint someone close to me and I don’t want to drive home every other day so I was gonna ask if I could paint you.”

Harrison knit his brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you ask (y/n)?”

Tom flushed, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? You two would get to spend a lot of time together, alone. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes, and I’d like to paint her, but it’s so intimate. I want to be the one to tell her I like her, not a painting. Plus she could say no and then I’d never be able to show my face in public again.”

“There is no way she would say no,” Harrison rolled her eyes, “Just ask her, she’d be happy to help and you might just finally see that she’s into you. Then I can stop watching you two pine over one another.”

“No, just drop it,” Tom ordered, spotting (y/n) approaching their table, “Don’t say anything to her.”

“Hey boys,” she smiled as she sat besides Tom, “How were classes?”

“Mine were fine, Tom’s already getting his finals though.”

Tom shot him a glare while she sighed, “That’s brutal, I’m sorry Tom.”

“I’ll survive,” he hummed, “It’s not anything too rough.”

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

“Just painting someone I know,” his cheeks dusted pink, “Nothing too hard.”

“Too bad I can’t help you out with it more,” Harrison bit his cheek, “Maybe (y/n) could pose for you.”

Tom decided he’d have to push Harrison out their dorm window when they got home. 

“Oh yeah, I don’t mind,” she smiled kindly to him.

“It’s okay, it’s probably going to take me awhile and I know you’re busy, I can just ask one of my brothers,” he insisted.

“And drive home every other day? That’s ridiculous, I’ll just do it.”

Tom sucked in a deep breath, trying to decide quickly what the right decision to make was. But he was a painter, he couldn’t give up the chance to paint something so perfect in good conscience, and he didn’t really want to say no either.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he smiled to her.

“No problem. So what do I need to do?”

“I’m supposed to paint you in the style of your favorite artist, or painting.”

“Well…” she tapped her lip thoughtfully, “Oh, they guy that painted those little cupids, and he did that Birth of Venus you showed me with all the cupids in it, I really liked his stuff. What was his name again?”

“William-Adolphe Bouguereau,” Tom pursed his lips, “I could do that, it’s not too far off from what I like to do anyway.”

“Cool, I guess I should start practicing my poses then?”

He chuckled, “No, we’ll just do something comfortable for you,” he bit the inside of his cheek, “There’s a bit of planning to do first, like what you’re gonna wear and the colors I’m gonna use, and sketching, I’ll just need a few days.”

“Well why don’t you come over and we can raid my closet? Maybe I can help with some of the other stuff too.”

Harrison was smiling like a proud dad when Tom glanced over at him, “Um, yeah, that would be good, I could come over after class Wednesday?”

“It’s a date.”

/

“I laid out some clothes already,” (y/n) smiled to Tom as she led him to her room, “I mean you’ll know better than me, but I tried to pick some things I thought would paint well.”

“Thanks, I was thinking something really simple would be best,” he began examining the clothes on her bed, smiling when he spotted the same white, babydoll dress she liked to wear whenever it got hot, “How about this one? It has that sort of angelic feel.”

She picked up the dress and held it against her, “It’s the comfiest too.”

He laughed, “Well that one for sure then. Next would be location, and I know you really like L'Amour et Psyché, enfants, so I thought it would be nice to have you sitting on a cloud to reference that.”

“Whatever you think is best Tom, you’re the artist,” she hummed, “I think that sounds nice though.”

“I think we’ll do that then. Do you want to toss the dress on so we can run through some poses?”

She nodded and Tom stepped outside, allowing her a moment to change. He’d thought about the painting all night, sketching out different poses and swatching colors he wanted to try. The anger he’d felt towards Harrison at lunch had faded almost instantly to excitement. He’d hung out with her a million times before, but he usually let his nerves get the best of him if things started getting flirty. Painting always relaxed him though, and he was sure that he would be able to make his feelings known once he was behind the canvas.

Of course, unbeknownst to Tom, her feelings were quite similar. Tom was handsome, of course, and funny and kind, and she got along with him better than anyone else. She had never felt the way she felt for him with anyone else, but flirting was hard. She always got nervous and backed off, there was just too much at risk. She didn’t know if Tom felt the same way, and she didn’t want to risk damaging their relationship by telling him she was into him. Of course she was happy just to help Tom for the class, but she thought it was a good chance to tread the waters.

“Ready,” (y/n) smiled as she left her room, “Where do you want me boss?”

“The couch is fine,” he was holding his sketchbook now, holding it firm against his chest, “If you could sit kind of sideways and put your arms on the back of the couch.”

She sat as he told her, glancing over her shoulder at him, “Like this?”

“That’s really nice, very reminiscent of the original…” he glanced down at his sketchbook, “Are you comfortable?”

“It’s a little awkward,” she admitted.

“Then it’s a no. How about with your hands in front of you, just resting.”

“This is better,” she smiled as she switched positions, “But if you want me the other way I don’t mind.”

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he assured before glancing back at the sketchbook, “Why don’t you try on your stomach, with your arms under your head.”

She giggled as she moved, kicking her legs like a child, “This is like the fifth grade slumber party position. I feel like we’re gonna play truth or dare.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’re never going to break into the modeling industry if you mess around like that.”

“You’re lucky I’m not a model or I’d be charging,” she stuck her tongue out before laying her head on her hands, “Is this right?”

“Almost, just cross your arms like this,” he set her arms in the position he wanted before stepping away again, “Are you comfy like that?”

“Yeah, I could sleep like this.”

“Good, there’s just one other pose I wanted to try. Could you roll over?”

She flipped to her back and set her hands over her stomach, “Do I look like an angel now?”

“Almost,” he moved one of his arms, extending it above her head and leaving the other over her stomach, “Perfect,” he declared, looking her over with a smile, “Very angelic.”

Her cheeks dusted pink and she bit down on her cheek, “Thanks.”

“I think this is the one,” he scribbled a few things in his sketchbook, “What do you think?”

"I could lay here all day."

“Perfect, can you stay there for a few so I can sketch you?”

She nodded, drumming her fingers along her stomach, "Did you get a better explanation of the project today?"

"Yeah, she said our grade is going to be focused on the emotion of the piece since we're painting someone close to us. She wants us to focus on portraying them how we see them."

"How are you gonna portray me then?" she blushed as she questioned him.

"An angel," he spoke without thinking, his cheeks flushing instantly, "Not with wings or anything, just sort of what I'm going for."

She was sure her face was about to catch on fire, "You don't have to do that, I mean I like the angel paintings, but you should portray me how you see me."

"I am, it just happened to fit with what you like," he tried his best to conceal his face behind his sketchbook as he spoke, "You're really sweet, and you always make everyone around you really happy, I think an angel is fitting."

“I think you’re like that,” she met his eyes, just barely peeking over the edge of his sketchbook, “You always make me happy.”

“I’m really glad I do,” he bit the inside of his cheek nervously, “I think I’ve got everything I need for today, I’ll do some thumbnailing tonight and go pick up some supplies.”

“Cool,” she sat back up, twirling some of her hair nervously, “So when do you want to start?”

“You have that essay right? Why don’t we do Saturday? I don’t want to take up a bunch of your time.”

“That’s sweet but I’m gonna procrastinate no matter what,” she giggled, “Saturday is good though, then we’d have all day to work.”

“I’ll be over at ten then,” he closed his sketchbook before shoving is back into his bag, “If you really want to procrastinate you could come to the store with me. I mean I have to make sure I can match your skin and hair and everything…”

“Well sure, but if you want even more of my very valuable time I at least expect you to buy me some tea.”

He laughed, “Fine, fine, we’ll stop for tea.”

/

Day 1

Tom was surprised by how awake (y/n) was when he arrived, she was never much of a morning person. When he showed up she had brewed some tea for them both and was already wearing the white dress they’d agreed upon. Tom had drawn about a thousand thumbnails before finally deciding on exactly what he wanted the painting to look like. He decided he’d start on it Friday night, figuring it would be good to get most of the background out of the way so he could focus on painting her while they were together. She gushed over how good the painting already looked, telling him they were the most perfect clouds she’d ever seen while he set up his work station. She was always hyping him up, he appreciated it, even though he was nervous to get started.

“You ready?” he asked finally.

She nodded, “Yeah,” she sat down, doing her best to mimic the pose she had earlier in the week, “Am I good?”

Tom nodded, “Perfect.”

“Awesome, I won’t move a muscle.”

He chuckled, “You can move. Just not too much,” he sighed, picking up his palette and taking one more moment to stare at his canvas, “Okay, time to start.”

(y/n) watched him quietly at first, watching the cute way he stuck out his tongue when he concentrated. She had never seen him paint, the occasional sketch sure, but with painting she’d only even seen finished pieces. They were always amazing, but she felt like getting to see the work in progress was something special. Most people never got to meet someone as passionate or as talented as Tom, let alone get to be the subject of their work.

“Do you mind if I draw the curtains?” Tom broke her trance.

“It’s your painting.”

He laughed, “No, I mean open them. Why on earth would I add a window to a painting of you in the sky?”

“I don’t know how your artist brain works, maybe you think clouds have windows,” she laughed in response, “Go ahead, I thought you wouldn’t want the lighting changing all day.”

“Well I’m going to paint the light source where I want it to be,” he explained as he stood, “But I want to make sure I’m painting you how you’d look in more natural light. Maybe angels have windows, but I’m nearly certain they don’t have iridescent light bulbs.”

“You seriously think heaven has fluorescent lighting?”

“I think they use the sun,” he deadpanned, though a smirk tempted the corners of his mouth, “You can turn on the tv or something.”

“That’s okay, I like watching you.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion, “Why? I’m just staring at a canvas.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s something you're passionate about, it’s cute watching you get in the zone.”

“Oh,” he blushed and turned his attention back to his work, “Thanks. I’ll be more talkative once I get a little further along, I just really like to concentrate in the beginning.”

“It’s fine,” she assured again, “I’m not bored Tom, I don’t mind a bit of quiet time.”

“Okay.” 

Truthfully he didn’t mind it either, at least when he was with her. He just liked being in the same room together, even if they were just studying or watching a movie, it was nice to just be together. 

/

Day 2

“Would you mind if I came over after class tomorrow?” Tom questioned, breaking (y/n)’s attention from the tv.

“That’s fine by me,” she smiled to him, “It’s not like I usually have plans with anyone else on a Monday afternoon.”

“Yeah, no one else can stand you,” he chuckled while she feigned offense.

“You know I could be charging you for this? I’m doing this for free out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You think I have money? I’m a starving artist darling, free is all I can afford.”

“You better be nice then,” she teased with a smile.

“I’m cooking you lunch aren’t I?” he sighed before setting his paints down, “Speaking of which, I think I’m ready for a lunch break.”

“Me too,” she rubbed her stomach, “Break time?”

He nodded, “Yeah, you still want pasta?”

“You know I do,” she winked as she stood up, stretching her arms up above her head, “Can I peak?”

He nodded, “It still doesn’t look like much, but I’m making good progress.”

She bounced over to the painting, smiling ear to ear as she took in all he had done, “It looks more and more amazing every time I see it. This is amazing Tom, seriously it looks so good already.”

He smiled, blushing at the praise, “Thanks, I think it’s coming along really well.”

/

Day 3

Tom was making much quicker progress than he had expected, he just found it very easy to find his rhythm every time they sat down to work. Part of it was her, part of it was the subject matter, also her. He was pretty sure all the hours he’d previously spent staring at her had something to do with it too. So far he was proud of his work, though he was sure it wouldn’t have been possible for a painting of her to look bad anyway. When he sat down to paint her he didn’t have to think about it much, just paint, it came very natural. It just felt naturally to immortalize someone like her, but the talking helped the most. Normally he painted alone and he’d wear himself out or hit some kind of wall and be forced to stop, but he hadn’t had that problem since working with her. It was like his hands moved on their own while he just hung out with his best friend. It was just easy...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you stay so clean when you paint?”

“I figured it out around the same time I stopped fingerpainting.”

She laughed, “Okay well when I try to paint I still get at least some paint on my hands and arms and stuff, you never get paint anywhere.”

“This is the third time you’ve seen me paint, I’ve gotten messy plenty of times but I’m trying really hard not to get paint all over your house.”

“Have you ever painted a girl?” she giggled, “Her body I mean, like gotten naked and painted on each other?”

He flushed suddenly, “No, have you?”

“No, but it would be fun wouldn’t it?”

“It would be cold,” he pursed his lips, he was well hidden by the canvas, so he had a lot more confidence in his ability to be cheeky, “We can take a break if you want to try it out.”

She went quiet for a moment, Tom thought he might have to throw himself out of her window but when he looked at her her cheeks were just as red, and she decided to press on, “What would you paint?”

“Depends where I’m painting.”

She bit her bottom lip, a playful smile overtaking her despite her pink cheeks, “Well I would paint a grid and play tic tac toe on your abs.”

She burst into laughter at her own awful joke and Tom did his best to fight off his own laughter, “That was not funny.”

“Yes it was that’s hilarious!” she kept laughing, clenching her stomach and rolling onto her side, only to find there was no room and roll onto the floor with a thud, “Ow.”

Tom started laughing, “You deserve that for making such a shit joke.”

“Fuck off,” she groaned.

/

Day 4

“Do you ever get lonely living here all alone?” Tom knit his brow as he tried to perfect her nose.

She nodded, “Sometimes, but I don’t really want a roommate you know? I need a boyfriend or something so I can just call him over when I decide I want someone to spend the night.”

“You could call me,” Tom didn’t dare peek out from behind the canvas after that comment, “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted me to spend the night sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we could even build a pillow fort and play truth or dare.”

She laughed lightly, “Well who could pass up an offer like that?”

/

Day 5

Rather than painting the whole night, Tom and (y/n) had decided to get some studying done, putting them at a much later start when they eventually did get to the painting. (y/n) seemed tired, and Tom had told her they could skip the night, especially since he was making such good progress already, but she had insisted she was fine. So they started working, and (y/n) watched tv, half away while Tom started working. The painting was coming along amazing, and Tom had planned to just get some of the more tedious, detailing work done and let her get to bed, but of course once he actually started working it was a different story. He had quickly gotten wrapped up in his work, not stopping until the noise of the tv stopped, the screen flashing to ask if anyone was still watching. 

“Sorry, I was just getting in the zone I-” Tom stopped mid sentence, spotting her already passed out on the couch. Her head was tossed to the side and one of her arms hung off the couch. The sight was endearing, but Tom felt bad about not noticing, “Oh dear,” he set his pallet down and stood up, flicking the tv off before approaching her, “Well come on darling, let’s get you to bed,” he nudged her lightly, “(y/n), time to wake up.”

She stirred slightly, a small groan leaving her lips before her eyes peaked open, “Tommy?”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips, “I would have carried you, but you’ve got to lock up behind me.”

She yawned, “Sorry, I’ll stay awake Tom, you can keep working.”

“You’re exhausted sweetheart, you need to get some sleep,” he smiled, setting a hand on her cheek carefully, “I got a lot done today anyway, promise.”

“Okay,” she yawned again before taking his hand, “I’ll help you clean up.”

“I’ll take care of it, why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

She nodded again, pushing herself up sleepily and padding off to her bedroom. Tom smiled to himself while he cleaned up, thinking about how nice it would have been to carry her off and tuck her in, or better yet fall asleep besides her. He could only hope he’d get there one day, if he could ever force out his feelings. It was seeming more and more possible everyday. Just as he’d suspected, hiding behind the canvas had made it much easier to flip the conversation to something flirty, and much to his delight, she didn’t seem to mind, if anything she flirted back.

“Looks good,” (y/n) hummed as she glanced over the painting, “Tomorrow we should be able to start early.”

“Thank you, honestly at this rate I’ll only need a few more days.”

“That’s awesome Tommy, I can’t wait to see it all done.”

“Me too,” he tossed an arm over her shoulder with a smile, “Come see me out.”

“I am, I am,” she smiled as he led her to the door, “Drive safe.”

“I will, get some sleep darling,” he kissed the top of her head before heading for the car.

/

Day 6

The doorbell made Tom jump, and nearly swipe a black line through one of her eyes, “Fucking hell,” he swore under his breath,

She giggles, “It’s just the pizza Tom,” she jumped off the couch, heading straight for the door, “Which means stop working busy bee we’ve got a pizza to devour!”

He pushed himself up with a sigh, “I’m in the homestretch here, I just need to push through.”

“No, you need to nourish your body and keep your mind sharp,” she winked to him as she opened the door accepting the pizza with a quick thank you.

“Smells delicious,” he plucked the box from her arms, “I think I’ll pretty much finish up tonight, but I’ll want to really polish it tomorrow when I’ve got fresh eyes. And I probably won’t want to stop once I’ve got started so eat and pee before I get here.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute or you wouldn’t get away with bossing people around like that,” she passed him a plate before tossing open the box.

“I know,” he winked to her, dishing them both a slice, “You know I probably only need another hour or so tonight, so we could watch a movie or something while we eat, then I could finish up after.”

A swarm of butterflies fluttered around her stomach, almost making it impossible for her to answer, “That sounds nice Tom, you definitely deserve to relax.”

“We both do,” he grabbed her remote as he fell down on the couch.

“I’ve been laying on the couch, relaxing is currently all I know.”

“Nah, I’m sure it gets tiring sitting there looking pretty all day,” he sucked in a sharp breath when she sat down, pressed right against his side.

“It does,” she nodded in agreement, “Alright, you pick for us alright?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t pay much attention to what he was picking, he was much more concerned with their proximity. They’d watched plenty of movies and tv shows together during their friendship, but they never sat so close. It gave Tom a lot of confidence, since she’d opted to sit besides him, he took it as a sign that his flirting was landing. So after they finished eating he decided he should also initiate something and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Without even thinking she had laid her head on his shoulder, it just felt natural. Tom pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and turned his attention to the tv.

/

Day 7

Tom stood up, stepping back a few feet to examine his work. He did it fairly frequently so (y/n) didn’t think anything of it and turned right back to the tv, until Tom spoke.

“It’s perfect, I’m done,” he declared with a small smile.

(y/n) raised a brow, “Seriously?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I have to seal it and everything, but the actual painting is done. I’ll turn it in on Monday.”

“Don’t you have a few more weeks?” she asked as she stood.

He nodded, “I don’t need them, I’m finished, it’s gorgeous, I don’t need to do anything else.”

“Well can I see?”

“Of course!” he grabbed her shoulders, quickly pulling her to face the work, “What do you think?”

She went wide eyed, taken back by how good he’d made her look. It was strange, seeing herself in a painting. It was done well of course, and it looked just like her, but better somehow. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, maybe the background or the romantic theme of the painting, but she just looked better. She looked like an angel, perched on a bed of pink and blue swirling clouds, reminiscent of the paintings she likes, but distinctly Tom’s work.

“Wow,” she turned to him with a big smile, “Tom it’s incredible, I don’t know how you made me look like that.”

“That’s just what you look like.”

She shook her head, “It’s better somehow, like the perfect version of me or something. You did incredible.”

“No,” he shook his head, “That’s just you, but thank you. I’m really proud of this, I think it’s one of my best.”

She blushed, “Yeah, you’re gonna get a killer grade.”

He hadn’t thought much about the grave, the assignment had taken a back seat to just painting her, “Yeah, I hope so,” he grabbed her upper arms and smiled down at her, “You’re incredible you know that? Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

She bit her lip and nodded, “You don’t have to thank me, I had fun.”

“Me too,” his eyes caught her lips for just a moment, soft and supple and more than kissable, “I, uh, we should do something to celebrate, dinner or something.”

“That would be fun too,” she tucked some hair behind her ear, leaning towards him just slightly.

He found himself leaning in too, but as much as he wanted to kiss her, something just wouldn’t let him. He kissed her forehead and backed away awkwardly, “I, uh, need to pack everything up, I have to get the sealant on pretty quick and I left it at home so…” 

The sealant was in his bag, but he felt like running away suddenly, his nerves truly getting the best of him.

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment but she nodded, ‘Y-Yeah, no problem, I’ll help you pack up.”

/

“Wait so let me get this straight, all this flirting and pining, you chickened out on the kiss?” Harrison’s jaw fell open in disbelief. 

Tom nodded, hiding his head against his arms, “Yes, and I nearly died the first time so let's not talk about it now.”

“Dude,” he gaped, “Are you kidding me? All you had to do was pucker up!”

“I know!” Tom groaned, “I know, I don’t even know what happened, I just froze up. I mean what if I misread it? She probably didn’t want me to kiss her, in fact I know she didn’t.”

“You said she leaned in first!”

“I thought she did but I’m stupid! There’s no way she was trying to kiss me.” “It literally could not be more obvious that you two like each other so I don’t want to hear it. You need to just call her up and tell her you froze up and ask her out.”

“I can’t, I will literally drop dead.”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “Then I’ll do it.”

“Dude no! I’m not ten, I can’t send you to ask a girl out for me, that’s a guaranteed no at this point.”

“Then just tell her,” Harrison groaned, “Before I lose it, please.”

/

Tom was coming to terms with the fact that he was going to die alone by Wednesday morning. It was hard to accept, but easier to accept than almost kissing his dream girl and chickening out, so the choice had been easy. But apparently the universe had other plans for him, as Ms. Miller decided to pull him aside after class.

“I want to talk about your final,” she placed his painting on an easel.

He blushed, “You don’t like it?”

She shook her head, “No, no, Tom this is incredible. I was going to suggest that you enter it into the National Galleries up and coming contest.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded, “Yeah, this is amazing, it would be a shame if the world didn’t see it,” she chuckled lightly, “And I’m sure it would get you some brownie points with your girlfriend.”

“Oh, she’s not my girlfriend,” he spoke softly, pretending to cough to try and hide his words, “Just my friend.”

“You painted just a friend like this?”

He nodded.

“And remind me of the title.”

“The Angel Nextdoor.”

“Do you call all your friends angel?”

“Uh no, just her,” he bit his lip while she raised a brow at him, “She doesn’t know I’m into her.”

Ms. Miller glanced at the painting with a hum, “Has she seen the painting?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she was there the whole time.”

“I think she knows.”

He began to blush again, “Really?”

She nodded, “I could tell just from looking at it that you must really love this girl, I’m sure she can tell too,” she smiled and leaned back on her desk, “Anyways, I just wanted to let you know about the competition, I’ll have your marks soon.”

He nodded, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, think about it.”

He scrambled out of class quickly, wondering if maybe he didn’t have to die alone. Maybe he could confess, and maybe (y/n) who had gushed to him about the painting he’d poured all his love into, would reciprocate. Maybe she had leaned in to try and kiss him, and maybe, just maybe, she really did like him back. Instead of stopping at the dining hall where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) he paced right past it, towards (y/n)’s class, trying to hype himself up the whole way. 

(y/n) had spent the past few days with her mind full of questions. She had leaned in, hoping Tom would get the hint and they would kiss. It seemed to be going that way but then he stopped. Tom had seemed flirty while he was painting her, and she tried her best to show her own interest. He had even held her while they watched a movie, but then he didn’t kiss her. He just kissed her on the forehead and left. She was worried she had misread everything, and almost certain she had. She was anxious about seeing him for the first time since the almost kiss, worried things would be tense or weird. So she was quite worried when she spotted him outside of her class, worried he was about to tell her to never bring up the incident and forget anything happened.

“Hey,” she smiled to him, “What are you doing here?” “I came to talk to you,” he blushed a bit, “Uh, Ms. Miller really likes my painting, she thought I should enter it in this competition for up and comers.”

“Really? Tom that’s awesome, congrats!”

He nodded, “Yeah, thanks, I thought it was really cool too, but she said she thought it was good because she could really see my emotions.”

“Also awesome, you’re gonna ace that class.”

“Okay, but, um…” he trailed off for a minute, unsure of how to force the words out, “The emotion was love, that she saw I mean. She said she could tell I really loved you, a-and I know you know that I do love you, but I love you way more than any of my other friends, and it’s different too… I mean I know I’m like a struggling artist, and that’s not the most desirable thing, and I’m not this perfect, beautiful person like you are, but I do love you, and I love you so much it’s overwhelming sometimes. The best thing I’ve ever painted is you because I love you so much, romantically.”

She stood totally frozen, with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open, making Tom’s heart pound nervously against his chest. He thought he might black out but she moved suddenly, grabbing him by the neck and kissing him hard. Her lips were plump and soft and so much better than he could have imagined. He grabbed her waist, leaning into her with a smile.

“I love you too,” she smiled as she pulled away, “I think you’re perfect and I am totally crazy about you.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded excitedly, “Of course! How could I not? You’re incredibly talented and you're funny and your kind, Tom you’re amazing, of course I am so totally in love with you.”

He smiled and sealed their lips again, “Maybe we could go on a date sometime then?”

She nodded again, “Of course, but I’ve got one condition.”

“Anything.”

“There has to be more kissing.”

He laughed before pecking her lips again, “I think I can handle that.”