#all scattered in my sketchbooks
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gh0stn3lius · 7 months ago
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Fun fact, my sketchbooks have this lil goober every so often cause @reamnosart likes him a whole lot and yknow so do i (meme related⬇️)
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sleepinglionhearts · 2 months ago
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Scans from one of my old Midori sketchbooks in which I thought it would be fun to do a comic about a bookstore :)
[read in columns, from left to right]
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iloveacronix · 6 months ago
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Got a new sketchbook for this year's art class but im not entering till the 12th and im getting impatient so I ended up drawing a Roby on it
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blujayonthewing · 4 months ago
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save me bulletpoints,
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upsidedowngrass · 2 years ago
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i present some liam family members ive had for a bit :) mainly siblings because i have waaaay more ideas about them!! also some of this art is a bit older compared to others which i think Shows but thats ok
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itsalwaysdark · 2 months ago
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straightened up my room yippeee
#by which i mean took out the garbage bc it was full made my bed and organized my bag. which is all cleaning up my room ever is#but reporganizing my bag is the biggest once bc i scatter it to the seven winds of the sky. so i just have to grab everything and put it#back. bag tour: 1. sketchbook 2. notebook 3. book of crossword puzzles i always forget i have 4. my big fuckass wallet 5. my keychain with#80000 things on it 6. (i think it was 6) thing of pens 7. mosquito block (i should also have sunscreen but its missing). i think thats all#thats in rhere currently but usually my OH wiops 8 or whatever Glasses case. inside the glasses case is 2 chapsticks my nail clippers my#lens wip a hankerchief And a little drawstring bag with a spare core for my portable charger and my headphones jack for if they die#i forgot to mention in my wallet is my portable charger + a cord for it. and also a little open up fan and a thing if trivia cards. and then#like all the cards i have and approximately 3 pounds in change its a heavy wallet#ummm yeah. so usually i also have my bluetooth earbuds in but theyre charging. and then i usually have my umbrella#and when im Going out i put in my deodorant and my hairbrush just in case#and up until just now i had a big ring of hairties but i donated that to lamp since my hairs too short to rly need them anymore. and i#always keep 3 on my hairbrush anyways just in case i need them for whatever reason#i think thats everything. its pretty compact#OH and i have a waterbottle i havent been taking it out very much tho. mostly bc i havent been Going out very much#i need to wash it tho its in the bin to be washed. 👍👍
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phonification · 1 year ago
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im going to make a homestuck school doodles compilation when i finish my school year in a few weeks, im SO excited cause i have like a bajillion little guys sitting around,,, plus it shows my evolution on how i drew homestuck characters and it marks the point the intermission permanently changed my brain chemistry
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ssahotchnerr · 11 months ago
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👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!
like dad does
aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3
you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.
likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.
but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.
"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."
"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"
"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"
he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.
"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"
"a meeting."
your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"
jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."
his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.
"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."
your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"
he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.
"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."
"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.
"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."
you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.
it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.
and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.
you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.
"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.
"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"
"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."
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sunni-stuff · 4 months ago
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Ghost can draw.
It's just that no one knows.
He doesn't reveal anything to show that he has the skill or speaks about it at all. In fact, the only time anyone has ever seen him put any type of pen to paper work like that is Soap, who watched his lieutenant carve stick figures into a nearby tree while waiting for ex-fil.
Ghost draws.
In an old beat-up sketchbook, he captures you in drawings. He carefully renders the curves of your eyes, the angles of your face, the fullness of your lips, and the way your expressions change with each emotion. He studies how you radiate joy and how certain outfits compliment your features perfectly.
On your birthday, you find out he draws as he hands you a journal, except this one isn't tattered. You hold the black art book in your hands, its condition pristine, a clean cover from front to back. "You draw?"
Ghost stands beside you, arms crossed over his chest, watching you bobble with excitement. "Sorta." He drawls nonchalantly, and you miss the thrilled look in his dark eyes as your boyfriend starts to approach the gift table. "Go on, open it."
You chuckle at his demand, caught off guard by his gift in the first place. Ghost didn't seem like the type to really care for birthdays, gifts, or parties, yet he somehow found where your friends were holding your birthday bash. "This is so unlike you, Ghost." You commented teasingly.
As you opened up the sketchbook, time seemed to slow down. Your eager fingers flipped back the cover, and on the first page, you were met with a sketch of yourself in the nude.
You were in shock, unable to move or fully process what you were seeing. The first drawing was a highly detailed, full-body depiction of you stepping out of the shower. "Uh– Ghost," You managed to speak slowly, your eyes rising to meet Ghost's gaze, noticing the satisfied grin on his lips. "Keep going."
And you did.
You flipped through page after page, each one a detailed drawing of you in various states of nakedness, scattered throughout your house and in different poses. Nothing was left out by Ghost - every inch, curve, and imperfection of your body was captured on these pages, including the birthmark that only your boyfriend knew about.
You were about to ask Ghost about the drawings in front of you when you heard footsteps approaching. In a quick motion, you closed the book with a loud thud. Your boyfriend walked over and casually draped his arm around your shoulder. "What's in the book?" he asked curiously.
"Uh, nothing important! Just some beautiful landscapes that Ghost drew," you stammered out, casting a nervous glance towards Ghost who couldn't hide his smug expression. "Yeah, definitely really beautiful," Ghost added with a smirk on his face.
☀️— had this in my head all last night. If it weren't for my brain buddy, @shotmrmiller my head probably would've exploded from holding this in
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steveseddie · 8 months ago
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hot stuff
@steddiemicrofic prompt: stuff, 483 words rated: t | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush, he blurts it out while helping eddie pack to move to his new trailer
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Steve shoves another DnD handbook into one of the boxes scattered around Eddie’s room. “Dude, why do you have so much stuff?”
Across the room, Eddie snorts. “Excuse me for wanting my bedroom to have some personality, Mr. Plaid-Wallpaper.”
Steve rolls his eyes, putting away some sketchbooks next. His eyes catch something else on Eddie’s desk. “This doesn’t match your personality. You hate sports,” Steve bitches, one hand on his hip, the other holding the basketball.
“Oh, that’s not mine.” Eddie smirks. “I stole it from some jocks.”
“You stole- a basketball?”
The smirk turns into a grin. “Assholes thought it’d be funny to hit the freak, so when they did, I grabbed it and ran like hell.”
A startled laugh leaves Steve’s lips when he pictures Eddie fleeing with a basketball in his arms, flipping off the assholes that he stole it from.
Then he frowns.
“I wasn’t one of them, right?” He doesn’t remember it, but he tries not to think about that time too much.
Eddie’s eyes soften. “No, Stevie. You were never a dick to me, we never really crossed paths.”
“I wish we had,” Steve says. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. Since meeting Eddie, he often wishes it happened sooner.
“You really think we would’ve been friends? The King and the Freak?”
“We’re friends now,” Steve shrugs.
“After a damn apocalypse! Besides, you’re different now. King Steve wouldn’t be caught dead with me. I was a loser.”
Steve sniggers. “Was?”
“Fuck you,” Eddie squawks, throwing some socks at Steve’s head- and missing.
Steve throws them back, hitting him on the forehead. “You’re supposed to be packing those!”
Eddie sticks his tongue out. “What I meant is- I looked like a loser.”
Steve thinks of the photo he packed earlier while helping pack Wayne’s things- the one of Eddie with a buzz cut, drowning in Wayne’s hand-me-downs, no tattoos or rings. So different from the guy in front of him.
“Now though, I look cool,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows.
“Nah, man. Now you look hot,” Steve blurts out.
He panics when Eddie’s jaw drops and he gapes at Steve, but he doesn’t look upset, just shocked- and a little hopeful.
The door opens then and Robin pops her head in, glaring at the empty boxes. “You dinguses aren’t done yet? We finished packing all of Wayne’s mugs and there’s dozens of them! I’m getting Nance!” She huffs and leaves.
Steve grimaces. “We should get to work before Nancy comes. But, um, wanna ditch the girls after and hang out?”
When Eddie shakes his head, Steve backtracks. “Unless you don’t want-”
Eddie shakes his head even harder at that. “Like fuck if I don’t.” He grins. “Get to work, big boy, then you can tell me how hot you find me and we can kiss about it.”
They finish packing everything in record time after that.
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phamapple · 6 days ago
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THEY WERE ROOMMATES
When opposites attract, sparks fly. Follow the adorable misadventures of two college students as they go from sworn enemies to head-over-heels in love
Warnings; fluff, fem!reader, kissing, enemies-friends-lovers, mini jealousy moments, Daniela is mentioned like twice, not so slow burn, med student reader, art student manon, uni au, roommates au, reader is a neat freak lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 7.5k WC
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You trudged into your dorm room, lugging a heavy suitcase behind you. You were not thrilled about sharing a room with a stranger, but it was a necessary evil. You'd heard horror stories about dorm roommates, but you were determined to make the best of it.
As you entered the room, you were greeted by a messy-haired girl sprawled across the bed, surrounded by art supplies. She looked up at you with a scowl, her eyes narrowing.
"Great, you must be my roommate," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm Manon."
You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her attitude. "Nice to meet you, Manon," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. "I'm Y/n."
Manon snorted, rolling her eyes. "Let me guess. A med major, huh? How original."
You felt a spark of irritation, but you bit back a retort. You didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.
As you began to unpack, Manon barely acknowledged your presence, too busy sketching in her notebook. You tried to make small talk, but she responded with monosyllabic grunts.
It was clear that Manon was not thrilled about sharing a room with you. But you were determined to make the best of it, even if it killed you.
As the days went by, you settled into a routine. Manon would spend most of her time drawing or painting, while you'd study for your med school classes. The tension between you was palpable, but you tried to ignore it.
But despite the rocky start, you began to notice little things about Manon. The way she smiled to herself when she was drawing, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about art.
And Manon, despite her tough exterior, seemed to be warming up to you. She'd occasionally ask you for advice on her art projects or share her favorite snacks with you.
It was a small start, but you sensed that there might be more to Manon than met the eye.
You'd always been a tidy person, and you took pride in keeping your space organized. So, when Manon started to spread her art supplies all over the room, you felt a growing sense of frustration.
At first, it was just a few sketchbooks and pencils scattered across the desk. But as the days went by, the clutter grew. Paints, canvases, and half-finished projects took over the floor, the bed, and even the windowsill.
You tried to be patient, reminding yourself that Manon was an art major and needed space to create. But as the mess grew, so did your annoyance.
One day, as you were trying to study for an exam, you realized that you couldn't even see the surface of your desk anymore. Manon's art supplies had taken over, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of paper, paint, and glitter.
"Manon, can we talk?" you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.
Manon looked up from her latest project, a half-finished painting that was taking up most of the floor. "What's up?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"It's just...the room is getting really cluttered," you said, trying to choose your words carefully. "I know you need space to create, but I need some space to study."
Manon raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly the most exciting person to live with," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm just trying to add some personality to this drab room."
You felt a surge of irritation, but you tried to keep your cool. "I understand that, but can we find a compromise? Maybe we can set up a designated art space for you, and I can have some space to study?"
Manon snorted. "You want to restrict my creativity? No way."
The conversation quickly escalated into a full-blown argument, with both of you shouting over each other. The tension between you was palpable, and it seemed like the room was shrinking by the minute.
As the argument reached its peak, the RA knocked on the door, asking you to keep the noise down. You both glared at each other, still fuming, before Manon stormed out of the room, leaving you to seethe in silence.
The room was still cluttered, and the tension between you and Manon was thicker than ever. You wondered how you were going to survive the rest of the semester with this much animosity between you.
You gazed around the cluttered room, feeling a sense of irritation wash over you. Manon's art supplies were scattered everywhere, making it impossible for you to focus on your studies. You let out a deep sigh and decided to take matters into your own hands.
You started to pick up the scattered art supplies, carefully organizing them into neat piles. As you worked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The room was starting to look more like a peaceful sanctuary, and less like a chaotic art studio.
As you finished up, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. The room was transformed, with Manon's art supplies neatly organized and out of the way. You let out a sigh of relief and settled back into your chair, ready to focus on your studies.
Just as you were getting into the zone, you heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by the creak of the door to your room. You looked up to see Manon standing in the doorway, a scowl on her face and a bag of groceries in her hand.
For a moment, you just looked at her, taking in the sight of her rumpled clothes and messy hair. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, and you couldn't help but wonder what she'd been up to.
Manon's scowl deepened as she caught your eye, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with a soft pink hue. You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden shyness.
Without a word, Manon walked over to your desk and dumped the bag of groceries onto the surface. You looked at the pile of snacks in surprise, wondering what she was doing.
As you gazed up at Manon, you saw a flicker of apology in her eyes, but her expression remained stubbornly scowled. "I brought snacks, as an apology for my attitude earlier" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
You felt a surge of surprise at her words, but you quickly pushed it aside. Instead, you smiled at her, a warm, soft smile that you hoped would put her at ease.
"Thanks, Manon," you said, your voice gentle. "That's really sweet of you."
Manon's scowl faltered for a moment, and you saw a glimmer of surprise in her eyes. She seemed taken aback by your warm response, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd misread the situation entirely.
But then Manon's expression hardened again, and she turned away, muttering something under her breath. You watched her go, feeling a sense of confusion wash over you.
What was going on with Manon? You wondered. One minute she was scowling at you, and the next she was bringing you snacks and apologizing. You shook your head, feeling a sense of bewilderment.
As you turned back to your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about Manon's sudden change of heart. What had brought it on? And what did it mean for your tumultuous relationship?
The questions swirled in your mind as you delved back into your studies, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon's apology had been unexpected, to say the least, and you wondered what other surprises she had in store for you.
Manon burst into the room, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Tonight's the night!" she exclaimed, tossing her bag onto the bed.
You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. "What's tonight?" you asked, a hint of wariness creeping into your voice.
Manon grinned. "Tonight, we're going out!" she said, her voice dripping with excitement. "We're going to paint the town red, or at least, we're going to try."
You hesitated, unsure if you were ready for a night out with Manon. She had a reputation for being unpredictable, and you weren't sure if you were ready for whatever adventure she had planned.
But Manon's enthusiasm was infectious, and before you knew it, you were swept up in her excitement. "Okay, fine," you said, tossing your book aside. "But if we get into trouble, I'm blaming you."
Manon whooped, pumping her fist in the air. "That's the spirit!" she exclaimed, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room.
As you hit the streets, you realized that Manon had no clear plan in mind. She seemed to be making it up as she went along, dragging you from one random location to the next.
You found yourself laughing and joking with Manon, feeling a sense of freedom and release that you hadn't experienced in weeks. It was like you'd left your worries and cares behind, and were just living in the moment.
But as the night wore on, things started to get a little out of hand. Manon convinced you to join her in a karaoke bar, where you proceeded to butcher a rendition of your favorite song. The crowd was merciless, and you found yourself laughing and cringing at the same time.
Next, Manon dragged you to a street food stall, where you sampled some of the most exotic and bizarre foods you'd ever encountered. Some of it was delicious, while other dishes were downright terrifying.
As the night drew to a close, Manon convinced you to join her in a crazy dance party, where you found yourself surrounded by pulsating lights and thumping music. You lost yourself in the beat, feeling a sense of abandon and freedom that you hadn't experienced in years.
It wasn't until the sun started to rise that you realized just how late it was. Manon grinned at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Best night ever, right?" she exclaimed, linking her arm through yours.
You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of exhilaration and exhaustion. "Definitely one for the books," you agreed, shaking your head in wonder.
As you stumbled back to the dorm, the sun rising over the horizon, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Manon. She'd pushed you out of your comfort zone, and shown you a side of yourself that you never knew existed.
And as you drifted off to sleep, your head spinning with memories of the night's adventures, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises Manon had in store for you.
You woke up to the sound of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, wondering who could be visiting at such an early hour. You tossed off the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, deciding that the best time to investigate was when you went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.
As you made your way downstairs, the noise grew louder, and you could tell that Manon was entertaining a guest. You stepped into the living room, and your eyes landed on Manon, who was lounging on the couch with a blonde, curly-haired girl. They both turned to look at you, and you offered a simple "morning" before heading to the kitchen.
As you poured yourself a glass of water, you couldn't help but overhear the conversation between Manon and her friend. The blonde girl was chatting away, asking Manon about her summer plans, and Manon was responding with her usual sarcastic humor. But then, the girl's attention turned to you, and you heard her say, "Who's that cutie? I hope she's up for grabs."
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you listened to Manon's response. "She's my roommate," Manon said, her voice firm, "and I'm 90% sure she isn't single." Manon's expression narrowed, and you could sense a hint of protectiveness in her tone.
You stood in the kitchen, frozen, wondering what Manon meant by that statement. Why was she so sure you weren't single? And why did she seem so invested in keeping her friend away from you? You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized that Manon might be more perceptive than you gave her credit for.
As you stood there, lost in thought, the conversation between Manon and her friend continued. The blonde girl was teasing Manon about being possessive, and Manon was laughing it off, but you could sense an undercurrent of tension. It was clear that Manon was not interested in sharing you with her friend, but you weren't sure why.
You took a deep breath and tried to shake off the feeling of unease. You told yourself that Manon was just being protective, that she didn't want her friend to get hurt. But as you stood there, listening to the conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.
After a few minutes, you composed yourself and headed back upstairs, trying to act nonchalant. But as you lay in bed, you couldn't help but wonder what Manon's intentions were. Was she really just being protective, or was there something more to it?
You decided to brush it off and pretend you didn't hear the conversation. You told yourself that it was none of your business, and that Manon was probably just joking around with her friend.
As you went about your day, you tried to avoid thinking about the conversation. You focused on your studies, worked on a project, and even managed to squeeze in a quick workout. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between you and Manon.
When Manon's friend left later that day, Manon came upstairs to grab a book from her shelf. She caught your eye and smiled, but you just nodded and looked away, trying to play it cool.
Manon seemed to sense that something was off, because she lingered in the doorway, watching you with a curious expression. "Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft.
You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine," you said, trying to sound casual. "Just studying for an exam."
Manon raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. But she didn't push the issue, just nodded and headed back downstairs.
As the day drew to a close, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if you'd confronted Manon about the conversation. Would she have confessed her feelings, or would she have brushed it off as a joke?
You shook your head, telling yourself that it was better to just let it go. But as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd missed an opportunity to explore something deeper with Manon.
The next morning, you woke up to find Manon already up and about, making breakfast in the kitchen. She smiled at you as you entered the kitchen, and you felt a flutter in your chest.
"Morning," she said, her voice bright. "I made pancakes."
You smiled back, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over you. Maybe, just maybe, you'd imagined the whole thing.
But as you sat down to eat, you caught Manon watching you, a curious expression on her face. And you wondered, once again, what she was really thinking.
You decided to try to make small talk and see if you could get a read on Manon's feelings. As you sat down to eat, you asked her about her plans for the day.
Manon launched into a detailed explanation of her art project, telling you about the inspiration behind it and the techniques she was using. You listened intently, asking questions and making supportive noises.
As you chatted, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she talked about her art. She was so passionate about it, and it was infectious. You found yourself getting caught up in her enthusiasm, feeling a sense of excitement and creativity.
But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something underlying between you. You kept catching Manon looking at you, her expression soft and curious. And when you met her eye, she would quickly look away, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.
You wondered if you were imagining things, if you were just reading too much into the situation. But as you continued to chat, you started to feel a sense of tension building between you. It was like there was a question hanging in the air, a question that neither of you was willing to ask.
As you finished up your breakfast, Manon suggested that you work on your respective projects together. She set up her easel in the living room, and you settled in at the kitchen table with your books and notes.
As you worked, the silence between you was comfortable, but you could sense the undercurrent of tension. You kept looking up to find Manon watching you, her eyes narrowed in concentration. And when you caught her eye, she would smile and look away, leaving you feeling frustrated and curious.
As the morning wore on, the tension between you started to feel almost palpable. You could sense that Manon was waiting for something, but you had no idea what. And as you worked, you found yourself wondering if you were brave enough to take the leap and find out.
Just as you were starting to feel like you couldn't take the tension anymore, Manon suddenly spoke up. "Hey, can I ask you something?" she said, her voice soft and tentative.
You looked up, your heart skipping a beat. "Of course," you said, trying to sound casual. "What's up?"
Manon hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth. And then, in a rush, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't expected the question, and you didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to tell Manon the truth, to confess that you were single and interested. But another part of you was scared, scared of getting hurt and scared of ruining your friendship with Manon.
As you hesitated, Manon's face fell, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Never mind," she muttered. "It's none of my business."
You felt a pang of regret, knowing that you'd missed an opportunity to be honest with Manon. But as you looked at her, you saw the tension in her shoulders, the vulnerability in her eyes. And you knew that you had to find a way to respond, to let her know that you valued her and your friendship.
You smiled softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Manon's arm. "Hey, don't worry about it," you said, trying to put her at ease. "I'm single, so you don't have to worry about stepping on anyone's toes."
Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile as she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her eyes sparkled with relief, and she looked at you with a newfound sense of connection.
"Thanks for telling me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I can breathe again."
You chuckled and squeezed her arm gently. "Anytime," you said, smiling back at her. "I'm glad I could put your mind at ease."
As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of tension dissipate. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you could finally relax around each other.
Manon's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked at you with a curious expression. "Can I ask you something else?" she said, her voice hesitant.
You nodded, intrigued. "Of course," you said, leaning in slightly. "What's up?"
Manon took a deep breath before asking, "Would you like to grab coffee with me sometime? Just the two of us?"
You felt a flutter in your chest as you considered her question. It was clear that Manon was interested in spending more time with you, and you had to admit that you felt the same way.
You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "I'd love to grab coffee with you," you said, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.
Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she let out a little squeal of excitement. "Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with delight.
You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and connection. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.
Manon bounced up from the couch, her energy infectious. "I'll go get my phone and we can make plans," she said, already heading for the stairs.
As you watched her go, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You had no idea what the future held, but you knew that you were looking forward to spending more time with Manon.
Manon returned with her phone and started scrolling through her calendar. "How about tomorrow afternoon?" she asked, looking up at you with a hopeful expression.
You nodded, feeling a sense of agreement. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect," you said, smiling back at her.
As you made plans, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she smiled, or the way her hair curled slightly at the edges. You felt a sense of attraction that you couldn't ignore, and you wondered if maybe, just maybe, this coffee date could be the start of something special.
As you finalized the plans, Manon looked up at you with a mischievous grin. "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
You felt a flutter in your chest as you met her gaze. "Me too," you said, smiling back at her.
As the day went on, you tried to play it cool and pretend like the coffee date was no big deal. You went about your routine, doing chores and studying, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
Every so often, you'd catch yourself thinking about Manon and the way she smiled when she asked you out. You'd feel a flutter in your chest, and you'd quickly push the feeling aside, telling yourself that you were just being silly.
But as the hours ticked by, you started to wonder if you were reading too much into the situation. Maybe Manon just wanted to be friends, and you were overanalyzing everything. Maybe you were just caught up in the excitement of having someone to hang out with.
You tried to rationalize your feelings, telling yourself that it was okay to just enjoy the moment and not overthink things. But as you lay in bed that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Manon's invitation.
As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself wondering what the next day would bring. Would Manon be nervous and awkward, or would she be her usual confident self? And what would you do if she was just being friendly, and didn't actually have romantic feelings for you?
The questions swirled in your mind, keeping you awake for what felt like hours. Finally, you drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you'd been on.
The next morning, you woke up feeling nervous and anxious. You got dressed and ready, trying to calm your nerves as you waited for Manon to come downstairs.
When she finally emerged, looking bright and cheerful in a yellow sundress, you felt your heart skip a beat. She smiled at you, and you smiled back, trying to play it cool.
"Hey," she said, breezing into the kitchen. "Ready for coffee?"
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
As you walked to the coffee shop, Manon chatted easily about everything from art to music to her favorite books. You listened, entranced, feeling like you were getting to know her on a deeper level.
But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this coffee date. Something that Manon wasn't telling you.
As you sat down at a small table outside, Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm really glad you could make it today," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
You felt a flutter in your chest, and you leaned in, your heart pounding in your ears. "I'm glad I could make it too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection that you couldn't ignore. It was like the whole world had melted away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in a moment of pure possibility.
Just as it seemed like the moment was going to escalate into something more, Manon's phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming text. She groaned in frustration and pulled back, apologizing as she reached for her phone.
You felt a pang of disappointment, but you tried to play it cool, smiling and telling Manon to go ahead and answer the text. As she scrolled through her phone, her expression changed from relaxed to concerned.
"What's wrong?" you asked, feeling a sense of curiosity.
Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to respond. "It's my friend Daniela," she said finally. "She's in town unexpectedly and wants to meet up."
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of surprise. "Daniela? Isn't that the friend who was visiting the other day?" you asked.
Manon nodded, looking guilty. "Yeah, that's the one. I didn't expect her to come back to town so soon, but I guess she had a change of plans."
You felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that the coffee date was going to be cut short. But you tried to be understanding, smiling and telling Manon that it was okay.
As Manon texted Daniela back, you couldn't help but wonder what this unexpected visit meant. Was Daniela just passing through, or was there something more going on?
As you finished up your coffee, Manon looked up at you with a sheepish expression. "I'm so sorry about this," she said. "I feel like I'm abandoning you."
You smiled and reassured Manon that it was okay, that you understood. But as you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. What did Daniela's visit mean for you and Manon? And would you ever get to finish what you started?
You smiled and told Manon that you understood, but you weren't interested in meeting up with Daniela. "It's okay, really," you said. "I've got some stuff I need to work on anyway."
Manon looked relieved, but also a little disappointed. "Okay, no worries," she said. "I'll catch up with you later, then."
You nodded and watched as Manon hurried off to meet up with Daniela. As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but feel a little left out. You had been looking forward to spending more time with Manon, and now it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.
When you got back to your dorm, you decided to focus on your work and try to put the disappointment out of your mind. You spent the rest of the day studying and working on projects, and by the time evening rolled around, you were feeling more productive and less bothered by the earlier events.
As you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You opened it to find Manon standing in the hallway, looking a little sheepish.
"Hey," she said. "I'm sorry again for ditching you earlier. I feel like I owe you an explanation."
You raised an eyebrow, curious about what Manon had to say. "What's going on?" you asked, stepping aside to let her in.
Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "It's just...Daniela is going through a tough time right now," she said. "She's been having some personal issues, and I promised her I'd be there for her."
You nodded, feeling a surge of understanding. "That makes sense," you said. "I'm glad you're being a good friend to her."
Manon smiled, looking relieved. "Thanks for understanding," she said. "I promise I'll make it up to you soon."
As Manon turned to leave, you felt a pang of curiosity. What did Manon mean by "making it up" to you? And what exactly was going on between her and Daniela?
You decided to let the conversation drop, not wanting to pry into Manon's personal business. You smiled and nodded, telling her that you understood, and that you were just glad she was being a good friend to Daniela.
Manon smiled back, looking relieved, and you could tell that she was grateful for your understanding. You chatted for a few more minutes, catching up on each other's days, and then Manon said goodnight and headed back to her room.
As you got ready for bed, you couldn't help but think about the conversation you'd just had with Manon. You were glad that you'd been understanding and supportive, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on with Daniela. Was she really just going through a tough time, or was there something more to it?
You pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that it was none of your business. You were just glad that Manon was being a good friend, and that was all that mattered.
As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You were happy to have Manon as a friend, and you were grateful for the understanding and support that you'd shown each other.
The next day, you went about your routine as usual, attending classes and working on projects. You didn't see Manon until lunchtime, when you ran into her in the cafeteria.
She smiled and waved, and you joined her at her table. As you ate, you chatted about your morning, discussing everything from classes to TV shows.
Manon seemed a little more subdued than usual, but you couldn't tell if it was just because she was tired or if something was really bothering her. You asked her if everything was okay, and she nodded, smiling reassuringly.
But as you finished up your lunch and prepared to part ways, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon seemed a little more distant than usual, and you wondered if everything was really okay.
As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You told yourself that you were just being paranoid, that Manon was probably fine and you were just reading too much into things.
But as you went about your day, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. You found yourself wondering what was really going on with Manon, and whether you should try to talk to her about it.
You decided to give Manon some space, figuring that she'll come to you if she needs to talk about something. You went about your day as usual, attending classes and working on projects.
As the day went on, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You wondered if she was okay, and if there was anything you could do to help.
But you also didn't want to pry or push her to talk about something she wasn't ready to discuss. You figured that if she needed someone to talk to, she would come to you.
As the evening drew to a close, you headed back to your dorm, feeling a little more relaxed. You spent some time reading and watching TV, and then got ready for bed.
Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard a knock at the door. You got up to answer it, expecting it to be one of your friends or maybe a neighbor.
But when you opened the door, you were surprised to see Manon standing there, looking a little sheepish. "Hey," she said, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
You shook your head, feeling a little curious. "No, it's fine," you said. "What's up?"
Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "I just wanted to talk to you about something," she said finally. "Can I come in?"
You nodded, stepping aside to let Manon in. As she entered your room, you couldn't help but wonder what she wanted to talk about.
Was it something serious, or just something that was bothering her? And why had she come to you, instead of someone else?
As Manon sat down on your bed, looking a little nervous, you realized that you were about to find out.
You asked Manon what was on her mind, encouraging her to open up. "Hey, what's going on?" you said, trying to sound supportive. "You can tell me anything."
Manon took a deep breath, looking a little nervous. "It's just...I don't know how to say this," she said, hesitating. "But I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately. With school, and my art, and just life in general...I feel like I'm drowning."
You listened attentively, trying to offer a supportive ear. "I'm so sorry, Manon," you said. "That sounds really tough. But you know you can always talk to me, right? I'm here for you."
Manon smiled, looking a little relieved. "Thanks," she said. "Just talking to you makes me feel a little better. But there's something else...something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a little curious. "What is it?" you asked, trying to sound encouraging.
Manon took another deep breath, looking a little nervous. "I've been developing feelings for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it may seem sudden, but I couldn't help the way I feel. And I wanted to be honest with you, even if it means risking our friendship."
You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't seen this coming, and you didn't know how to react.
You took a deep breath and told Manon that you felt the same way. "I've been feeling a connection with you too," you said, trying to sound calm. "I value our friendship, but I have to admit, I've been wondering if there's something more between us."
Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Really?" she asked, her voice full of excitement.
You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and possibility. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.
Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long."
As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection and understanding that you'd never felt before. It was like you'd been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now that it was finally here, you were ready to seize it.
Manon leaned in closer, her face inches from yours. You could feel the tension between you, the anticipation of what was to come.
And then, in a moment that felt like time standing still, Manon kissed you.
It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it sent shivers down your spine. You felt like you were melting into her, like you were becoming one person.
As you pulled back, gasping for air, you saw the smile on Manon's face. It was a smile of joy, of happiness, of love.
"I've been wanting to do that for so long," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled back, feeling like you were on cloud nine. "I'm glad you did," you said, your voice filled with emotion.
As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.
You and Manon decided to go on a proper date, to celebrate your newfound feelings. You both agreed that it would be nice to get out of the dorm and explore the town.
Manon suggested a quaint little Italian restaurant that she had been wanting to try, and you agreed. You made a reservation for that evening, and spent the rest of the day counting down the hours until your date.
You felt a little nervous, but Manon's smile put you at ease. You were greeted by the hostess and led to your table, where you spent the next few hours enjoying delicious food and wine, and getting to know each other better.
The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself laughing and joking with Manon like you had known her for years. You talked about everything from your favorite books and movies, to your childhood memories and dreams for the future.
As the evening drew to a close, you walked Manon back to her dorm, feeling like you were on cloud nine. You had never felt such a strong connection with someone before, and you couldn't wait to see where things would go from here.
As you stood outside Manon's dorm, you turned to her and smiled. "I had an amazing time tonight," you said, your voice filled with sincerity.
Manon smiled back, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I had an amazing time too," she said. "Would you like to do it again sometime soon?"
You nodded eagerly, feeling like you were floating on air. "Definitely," you said. "How about tomorrow night?"
Manon laughed, a playful glint in her eye. "You're eager, aren't you?" she teased.
You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Maybe just a little," you admitted.
Manon smiled, her expression softening. "I like that," she said. "Tomorrow night sounds perfect."
As you leaned in to kiss her goodnight, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.
You finished getting dressed in your usual baggy outfit, feeling comfortable and relaxed. You headed downstairs, where Manon was waiting for you, looking stylish and put-together as always.
"Ready?" she asked, smiling at you.
You nodded, and Manon held out her hands, expecting you to take them. You felt a little flutter in your chest as you intertwined your fingers with hers, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness.
Manon led the way, walking confidently through the dorm and out into the cool evening air. You followed her, feeling a sense of trust and reliance on her. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you were happy to follow her lead.
As you walked to the cinema, Manon chatted easily about her day, telling you about her classes and her friends. You listened attentively, feeling grateful for her presence in your life.
When you arrived at the cinema, Manon bought your tickets and led you to the concession stand. "What do you want to eat?" she asked, smiling at you.
You shrugged, feeling a little indecisive. "Whatever you want," you said.
Manon laughed and ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas. You carried the snacks while Manon led the way to the theater.
As you found your seats and settled in for the movie, Manon reached for your hand again, intertwining your fingers with hers. You felt a sense of comfort and security, knowing that she was there with you.
As the movie started, you and Manon settled in, watching the opening scenes with interest. But as the film progressed, you found yourself becoming more and more aware of Manon's presence beside you.
You felt her hand in yours, her fingers intertwined with yours in a gentle but firm grasp. You felt her arm against yours, her shoulder brushing against yours as you both laughed at a funny moment in the movie.
As the tension in the film built, you found yourself leaning in closer to Manon, your heads almost touching as you both watched the screen with rapt attention. You could feel her warm breath on your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.
Manon seemed to sense your movement, and she turned to you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You met her gaze, feeling a jolt of electricity as your eyes locked.
For a moment, you just stared at each other, the movie forgotten. Then, without thinking, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.
Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.
The movie played on, forgotten, as you and Manon lost yourselves in the moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, the world around you melting away as you focused on the sensation of Manon's lips against yours.
Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.
"I guess we got a little distracted," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.
You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Just a little," you replied, your voice equally soft.
Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I don't mind," she whispered. "I liked it."
You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.
You and Manon decided to get a little more romantic, sharing another kiss or two in the darkness of the theater. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.
Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.
The movie played on, forgotten, as you and Manon lost yourselves in the moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, the world around you melting away as you focused on the sensation of Manon's lips against yours.
As you kissed, you felt a sense of connection with Manon that you'd never felt before. It was like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, and you knew that you were meant to be together.
Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.
"I think we've made our point," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.
You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "I guess we have," you replied, your voice equally soft.
Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I'm so glad we did," she whispered. "I feel like I've been waiting for this moment for so long."
You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.
"I'm glad too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion.
As the movie came to an end, you and Manon reluctantly pulled apart, smiling at each other like fools. You knew that this was just the beginning of something special, something that would change your life forever.
You walked out of the theater hand in hand, feeling like you were on top of the world. You knew that you had found your soulmate in Manon, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for you both.
As you strolled through the quiet streets, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You knew that you had found your perfect match, and you were grateful for every moment you spent with Manon.
And as you looked into her eyes, you knew that you would love her forever.
244 notes · View notes
flippinpancakes64 · 5 months ago
Note
Hello! I love your stuff and I wanted to request their response to:
Reader: Let me take care of you.
Them: It's rotten work...
Reader: Not to me...not if it's you.
Keep writing! You're amazing! (And I need something to read while I stay up)
Taking care of the Cullens
Ok ngl this ask has me giggling and kicking my feet
Jasper let me take care of you 😡😭❤️
Uhm and remember in my request rules thing where I said I don’t do narratives… i might be a big fat liar cause that’s what I did here… don’t come for me
And thank you so much for the kind words! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!
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Edward:
We all know he has a bit of a complex when it comes to his worth and his humanity
He tends to get in his own head a lot
Especially when it comes to you and your relationship
He doesn’t really get jealous in the normal sense
He just sort of gets sad when he sees you with other people
It’s one day after school and Edward seems to be avoiding you. You’re sitting at the table with Emmett, Alice, Esme, and Jasper playing a card game.
Only Edward is nowhere to be found.
The game finishes, Alice winning and Emmett immediately going into ranting mode about how it’s rigged. You excuse yourself to go check on him.
You find him upstairs in the piano room, plunking away on the keys mindlessly. If he wasn’t a vampire and you didn’t know better, you would say he didn’t even notice you enter the room.
You stood behind him for a while, watching as his fingers danced over the ivory keys.
“It sounds beautiful” you say.
He doesn’t respond.
“Edward, what’s the matter? You’ve hardly spoken to me all day.”
“Do you ever wish I was human?”
The question catches you off guard.
“To wish for you to be human would be to change you, and I happen to love you just the way you are.”
He huffs, his fingers halting.
“But don’t you wish I was warm? Don’t you wish I could eat the foods you like, actually sleep next to you at night, grow old with you?”
You sit down next to him at the stool and take his hands in your own.
“What were you like when you were human?”
The change of subject seems to catch him off guard, his face twists slightly as he thinks. He pauses for a beat before answering.
“I was a bit of a troublemaker. My mom always said I was giving her grey hairs way too early. I didn’t do any of my schoolwork, I just wanted to go and be free.”
“Hm, sounds like the you that could sleep, eat, and grow old was a bit of a wild card. Not really my type. You know I prefer the sophisticated, musical type.”
He laughs at that, hanging his head down to press a kiss to your joined hands.
“So what you’re saying is you like the version of me without a soul better,” he says bitterly. You frown at that.
“No, I’m saying I like the you that I have now. I love you, Edward. I would never trade you for anyone else in the world whether they have a pulse or not.”
He’s quiet for a moment.
“You know this is how it will always be, right? I’ll always be here, trying some new way to push you away from me. To make you realize that you deserve better.”
“And I’ll always be here to take care of you and make sure you know that my mind will never change.”
“Taking care of me for the rest of your life… talk about the worst job you could get.”
“Only it won’t be a job. Not for me. Not when it’s for you.”
He looks at you then, finally. His big, black eyes staring into yours.
You’ve wished it before, but in this moment you wish you were the one who could read his mind instead of the other way around.
“You’re so stupid,” he smiles, and leans in for a kiss.
Maybe one day he’ll fully believe you.
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Alice:
Alice has a tendency to shut down whenever there’s too much going on
Too many people are on the cusp of making decisions that could change their lives
It seems that every person she meets on the street has a vision attached
She can’t take it anymore
You find her curled up in a ball in her room, the TV playing a program you don’t think she’s watching.
Around her are scattered sketchbook pages, each one hastily ripped from the pad and thrown to the floor.
On these pages are drawings of buildings, people, animals, and tragedies. You catch the face of a woman who’s screaming as a bullet heads straight for her face. In another is an open room with a small grenade in the center.
No wonder she’s been so upset.
None of the pages show joy, every single one a warning of a disaster that’s just waiting to happen.
In front of her, there’s a stack of drawings that she’s flipping through. On one of them you catch what looks like your face, only it’s contorted in a scream. In another you see Jasper, but you can’t make out what’s around him.
“Alice,” you call out, and her head whips up. Maybe she hadn’t heard you like you thought she did. “What’s wrong?”
She looks at you like a deer in headlights for a moment, before her eyes glance back down to the papers in front of her.
“There’s nothing wrong. Not yet, at least.”
Her tone is grave. You can hear the desperation for an answer, or at least a break.
You sigh, and move to sit next to her. You reach to take the stack of papers from her, meeting no resistance. If she wanted to keep them from you, she could. But she knew now that fighting you was always going to be useless.
“Alice, I know you can’t control the fact that you see these visions. But you can control how much you obsess over them. This isn’t healthy.”
“I don’t need to be healthy. I can’t die or get sick.”
You sigh again. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. You can’t keep withering away in here obsessing over what might happen.”
“But-“
“No buts.” You say, throwing the stack of papers to the side. “How long ago did you have these visions?”
She thinks for a moment.
“Yesterday, I think.”
“Alright. Have they happened yet?”
“Well, no…”
“From what you saw, are they still a possibility now?”
“…they are… a very low possibility…”
You could see her reluctantly piecing together your words, clearly not wanting to admit her mistake out loud.
“Look, Alice, you know that I’m always touched by you looking out for me, but in moments like this I need to look out for you too.”
She looks into your eyes, then hangs her head again.
“But that’s not how it’s supposed to be. My gift, I should be the one taking care of you-“
“No. There is no ‘supposed to’ anything. Humans aren’t ‘supposed to’ be with vampires and yet here we are. So please just come with me and watch a movie or cuddle or something?”
She looks at you again, then. Staring into your eyes, then glancing around her room, at all of the papers, then back to you. She smiles slightly and floats up to her feet.
“Fine. But I’m picking the movie.”
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Jasper:
This is a man who needs some serious love and reassurance
He’s always on edge around you, even if he plays it off like he isn’t
He’s just always so scared of hurting you or doing something wrong
And a lot of the time that manifests as him isolating himself to try and get you to leave him
It was gonna be one of those nights again.
A night that you would spend alone in the bed you were supposed to be sharing with the love of your life, Jasper.
But no. On a night like this, he’s out in the woods, far, far away. Stewing in his feelings and brooding.
You don’t even remember anything happening this time. Sometimes something can set him off; a jab from someone at school, a hug he gave you that ended up being WAY too tight, anything really. Anything that reminds him of how he’s not supposed to be with you.
But right about now, you’re sick of it.
The Cullens have taken to being quieter at night since you’ve started sleeping over a lot more, but you know they’re all here- all except for the one you want.
So it being 2 am won’t bother any of the other residents of the house. You roll out of bed and march your way over to the door, throwing it open (politely) and stomping down the steps.
Emmett is the first one you see, and you decide he’ll be perfect for the job anyway.
“What’s got you going, firecracker?” He asks.
“I need you to go find Jasper and bring him to me. Now. I need to talk to him,” you couldn’t help the anger and frustration that seeped into your voice. Lack of sleep will do that to you.
Emmett stood up straight and gave a stupid salute, “One loner coming right up, boss.”
And with that he was out of the door, and you trudged back upstairs to wait for your boyfriend.
You were laying in the bed, still trying desperately to go to sleep when you heard a light knock on the door. Your eyes flicked open to see Jasper standing in the doorway, looking completely out of place and uncomfortable.
All of your anger left instantly, all you saw was the sweet man who was far too worried for his own good.
You sighed and scooted over, patting the spot next to you.
“Come here, Jasper.”
A look of what could only be described as fear flashed across his face before he shook his head and muttered a small, “i can’t.”
You sighed again and stood up, making your way over to him. When you reached him, you stretched your arms out to take his face in your hands, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours.
“Look, Jas, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I have a pretty damn good idea. You’re not gonna hurt me.”
“You don’t know that,” he says, looking into your eyes, something about the black made him look more human, more scared. “Vampires are already dangerous, but I’m the worst of the worst. You’ve found yourself a faulty cannon amongst rifles, darling.”
You frowned at his analogy, squeezing his perfect face in your hands.
“You are NOT faulty, you hear me? You are perfect. Perfect for me, at least.”
“The perfect man for you wouldn’t be tearing himself up inside trying not to kill you.”
“And a lesser man would have already done it.” He was shocked at that, stunned into silence. He hung his head slightly, not meeting your eyes once more.
“And what if I do hurt you one day? Would you ever forgive me? Could I ever forgive myself?”
“I don’t think you will. But if you do, Carlisle will put me back together and I’ll jump right back into your arms.”
His eyes bore into your soul as he stared at you like you were crazy.
“Why the hell would you do that? Come running right back to me?”
“To make sure you don’t hate yourself for too long. Now come on, I’m tired and I can’t sleep without my personal AC unit.”
He looked at you with disbelief. You knew he didn’t believe you, you don’t know if he ever will.
But that’s okay. You’ll keep him right here, and pull him back to you every time he runs away.
Eventually, he’ll understand that you love him.
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Rosalie:
The topic of kids has always been a very touchy one for Rosalie
It’s all she’s ever wanted, and all that she still wants
Most days, the pain is not too much of an issue
But some days, it just gets to be too much
You and Rosalie were walking down the street, hand in hand as you strolled by the different shops and food stands.
The city was busy today, many young couples out and about, shopping, talking, kissing far too passionately to be in public, the usual.
“Rose, do you mind if we sit down for a bit? These shoes Alice chose for me look really nice, but they are so uncomfortable.”
She giggled, but nodded and led you both to a bench. You sat down with a heavy sigh, finally getting off of your feet after what felt like forever (even though it was only about an hour).
Across the way in the little park you’ve both found yourself in, a young couple is sitting on a bench.
The woman has long, flowing, blonde hair that frames her face in loose curls. She’s wearing a gorgeous floral-patterned dress, and on her left hand is quite possibly the biggest, gaudiest ring you have ever seen.
To her right, a man sits, one who bears a striking resemblance to you, regardless of gender.
And in the middle, a little baby. A perfect mix of the two, her hair and his eyes, her nose and his jawline, all swaddled in a cute little onesie.
You’re about to turn to Rosalie to point out the cute baby (she always loves to look and maybe go touch it if the parents allow her to) when you see that she’s already looking.
Her face is grave, like she’s looking at her own headstone. Her face is twisted in grief, and she looks on the verge of tears.
It takes you a second to connect the dots, but once you do, your heart clenches for her.
That woman looks like her, reminds Rosalie of herself. And the man looks like you. And that baby is what she wants, all she’s ever wanted. What she can’t have.
Babies are always hard for her, but this struck a deep chord.
“Rose… do you wanna go home?” You ask softly, not wanting to come off as pushy.
“…”
“Come on, let’s go,” you grab her arm to pull her up, she goes with you, but keeps her head craned back to the young couple the whole time.
Once you’re far away, she breaks down. You’ve never seen a vampire cry, and that’s probably because they can’t. But if they could, Rosalie would be sobbing.
You know it’s bad because she doesn’t even care that she falls to the floor in this dirty, nasty alleyway. Normal Rosalie would rather die 100 times over than get her clothes dirty, especially here.
You sit down next to her, letting her dry heave and gasp into your shoulder, her wails breaking your heart.
You’re helpless here. Cause what can you really do? You can’t give her a kid, she can’t give you one either. You can’t go back in time and stop her from being killed. And you can’t go back and steal that baby from that couple (even though you kind of really want to).
So you just hold her.
You run her hair, pat her back, kiss her head, and whisper into her ear. How much you love her, how she’s perfect, how it’s okay, how you don’t think less of her.
Once she’s calmed down and her breathing has slowed, she looks up at you.
“I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be seeing this side of me.”
“What? I want to be here for you, Rose. I know I can’t fix this for you, but at least I can-“
“Fix it? Darling, don’t worry about fixing me. I’m already completely broken, there’s nothing to fix.”
With that you just take a moment to look at her. Her face screams that she is broken. In her soul, at least. Her and Edward are a lot more similar than they like to think.
“Rosalie. You are not broken. There is nothing wrong with you.”
She scoffs at that. “I’m not human. I’d say that’s pretty wrong. Not to mention the fact that I can’t even look at a couple with a baby and not want to violently kill someone.”
“And that’s okay.”
She scoffs again.
“No, really, Rose. I mean it. I’m never ever going to think less of you for something like this. You went through something I can never even imagine and now you’re left to pick up the pieces. Just let me help you.”
She looks at you, her eyes staring into yours. The grief that she’s feeling is evident. But deep in her eyes, you see a touch of something else. Trust, maybe.
“You know, you’re gonna be picking up pieces for the rest of your life.”
“That’s okay, I don’t mind. Not if it’s you.”
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Emmett:
He likes to pretend to be all big and bad all of the time
But in reality, he's still a person
He just has a hard time remembering that sometimes
You don't know where he got all of that energy from.
I mean, realistically, you know that he can never get tired.
But really, even for a vampire this was unnatural.
Some nobody in school had challenged him to an arm wrestle. Of course, he can never resist. He grabbed the guy's hand and prepared to pummel him, only to flinch and have his hand thrown down against the wood of the desk.
The guy had one of those fake shock things in his hand, and as soon as Emmett clamped down it vibrated like crazy.
To say he was pissed would be an understatement.
And now he was taking all of that anger out on the trees around the Cullen house.
"That-" punch "fucking-" punch "ASSHOLE!" punch punch punch
It had been days. And you were honestly getting worried. He hadn't hunted in those days, much less came inside the house. You're surprised the park ranger hasn't come knocking yet.
You heard a hollowed cracking sound and looked to see Emmett standing triumphantly as a rather large oak tree fell to the ground, followed by a guttural roar from the man.
"Emmett," you called, barely above a whisper. But you know he heard you. "Come over here please."
He looks at you with a slightly guilty look, the anger from before fading away as he hangs his head and trudges over to you. He stops just a few feet in front of you, lamely kicking the rocks beneath his toes as he avoids your eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s that stupid fucking guy-“
“No,” you stop him, putting your hand up to silence him. “What’s actually wrong? Don’t tell me you’re seriously this pissed about losing an arm wrestling match with some nobody.”
He just stood there in silence for a second. You took this chance to stand up and grab his face in your hands, instantly he leaned in, perching his head on your palms.
“I just… need to be strong. That’s what I am, I need to be strong,” he whispered, his voice coming out shy and meek.
You just smiled at him sadly and rubbed his cheek.
“I can be strong too you know. So every once in a while you can let me take care of you instead.”
He laughed at that.
“You, strong? As if. I could fold you in half!”
You punched him lightly in the arm.
“You jerk! I’m trying to be sentimental!”
He laughed again and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to their previous spot cradling his face.
“Ok ok, serious sentimental time.”
You just laughed and kissed him.
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Esme:
She has a bad habit of overreacting
Just a dash of anxiety
So when something-anything happens to you, she freaks out
This is bad.
Like really, really bad.
You were supposed to be driving to go see Esme at the Cullen house, but of course your piece-of-shit car decided that now would be a perfect time to break down.
Too far away from home to walk back, too far away from the Cullens to walk there, and the nearest anything was also too far.
Not to mention the snow covering the ground didn’t really entice you to get out of your still-warm car.
So you tried calling someone to come get you.
Only, of course there’s no service out here because why would there be.
Just your luck.
You weigh your options, and decide that walking is just gonna have to do.
You didn’t pack a winter coat because you didn’t think you’d be outside for this long, but you had a blanket stored in your backseat and it was better than nothing.
So off you trekked through the freezing cold winter storm to the Cullen house.
Inside, Esme was (in)patiently waiting.
Your favorite meal was waiting for you, already plated and getting colder by the second on the dining room table.
You said you were on your way 30 minutes ago. It takes about 30 minutes to get from your house to their house.
So where were you?
Her ears perked at the sound of a slowly beating heart coming from down the driveway.
It didn’t sound like one of the foxes or deer that roam around this time of year. No, it sounded a bit bigger, a bit more human.
She was out the door in a flash. Before anyone had the chance to ask what she was doing she was by your side.
“Oh my god, honey, why are you out here?!”
“An angel…” and then you collapsed.
Cue Esme absolutely freaking the fuck out.
She has you in front of a lit fireplace, a heating blanket rested over your shoulders and a warm towel on your head.
She’s pacing back and forth in front of you. She wants to hold you so bad, to kiss you, cuddle you, protect you. But she can’t. She’ll just make the shivers wracking your body even worse.
“Es…” you croak, your eyes blinking open finally.
“Oh my god! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Why were you out there? Where’s your car? Why didn’t you call me?”
“Shhhh,” you whisper, bringing your finger up to shush her. “Just come here.”
You open up your blanket in an invitation to her.
“Are you out of your mind? I can’t cuddle with you right now, I’ll freeze you!”
“Please, you deserve to be taken care of too.”
She crumbles at that, you can see the resolve leaving her face. And then she figures that you won’t get too cold with the heated blanket and everything.
She cuddles up next to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and ducking her head into your neck.
“I’m so sorry, I should have been there. And least of all I shouldn’t be such a mess right now.”
“It’s okay to be a mess, I’ll always be here to hold you.”
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Carlisle:
No one really talks about the stress of being a pretend father for a bunch of eternal teenagers
Really, it’s a blessing that he doesn’t need sleep and isn’t affected by long hours
But despite that, he still gets so worn out
Today had been a long day for Carlisle.
It was student-teacher conference day. And while that’s not usually an issue since he always tells the kids to behave, Emmett decided it was necessary to punch a kid last week.
To be honest, Carlisle didn’t really care if the kid was a bully or not, all he viewed it as was something more drawing attention to them.
On top of that, the cattiness between Edward and Rosalie seemed to be especially bad today.
They were at each other’s throats for the better part of the day, and nothing would get them to separate.
At work, at least a dozen new patients showed up. A factory that was close by had a gas leak, very minor. None of the people were harmed at all, but many still insisted on going to the clinic.
Carlisle’s not one to discourage people from getting checked out, but he is one to tell people to go home when they’re fine, which everyone was.
But these people kept insisting something was wrong. A boy with a broken arm had to wait for three hours for a room to open up because the factory workers refused to leave.
By the time he got home, he was exhausted, you could tell. His eyes were heavy, as were his footsteps. His hair was disheveled, he had clearly been running his fingers through it all day from the stress.
He looked like a mess. But even then, he greeted you with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.
He always takes such good care of you, whether you’re sick or not, he’s always there with whatever you want.
Now it’s your turn.
“Carlisle, are you busy?” You ask, peeking into his home office. Even after the super long day, he’s a man of habit.
“Not particularly,” he turns to look at you, setting his pen down, “why?”
“Follow me.”
You lead him to the bathroom, where a nice, warm back is drawn. Complete with lilac scented bath oil and two candles lit on the sink.
“The bath looks beautiful, darling. I’m sure the lavender will be great for your skin.”
“Oh, it’s not for me,” you quip. All he does is raise an eyebrow. “It’s for you. I know you’ve had a long day, so go relax and meet me in the bedroom when you’re done.”
You don’t give him a chance to argue before you leave, shutting the door tightly behind you.
He emerges about 30 minutes later, still toweling his hair off.
“Ok now come on over here,” you pat the bed next to you, motioning him to sit there. Again, all he does is quirk and eyebrow but he obliges.
You take the remote to the TV in yours and Carlisle’s room, turning on his favorite movie. A classic one from the silent film era.
“But this… I haven’t seen this movie in years… how did you get it?”
“That’s the beauty of streaming platforms.”
You both sit in silence for a while, Carlisle seemingly happy to just watch his favorite movie after so long. Eventually, he turns to look at you with an inquisitive expression.
“So, what’s all this for?”
“What, am I not allowed to take care of you from time to time?”
He laughs slightly at that.
“A human taking care of a vampire, how twisted.”
You grab his face between your hands at that, drawing him close and looking deep into his yellow eyes.
“It’s not if I want to do it, and I would move the Earth for you.”
“Hopeless romantic,” and with that he kisses you.
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Vampire! Bella:
She tends to… shut down
We all know how she was when she couldn’t be with Edward
That translates over
It really wasn’t supposed to be that big of a deal.
Your Spanish class was going to be taking a two week trip to Spain.
Only, Bella wasn’t in Spanish. This time around, she chose to take French. Which was all fine and good, until it meant that she couldn’t go with you.
Cue two weeks of endless calls and texts.
On the phone with you , she sounds fine. But from your calls with Alice, she’s not doing too hot.
She hasn’t been hunting since you’ve been gone, she’s completely stopped going to class, and she also hasn’t talked to anyone in the house.
It’s the last night of your trip, you’re in your hotel room, the girl you’re sharing with is sound asleep in the other bed, but you know one girl who’s never asleep.
You call Bella’s number, and she answers instantly, like she’s been waiting all day for you to call. In all honesty, she probably has.
“Hey, what are you up to?” You can hear the attempt to be nonchalant in her voice, but her eagerness gives her away.
“Oh nothing, I just got off the phone with Alice… wanna tell me why you didn’t leave our room today? Or yesterday? Or the day before?”
You can hear her pause on the line, like she’s trying to come up with a convincing lie, but eventually she sighs.
“I just… I’ve just been missing you a lot, is all. I want you here next to me, I feel incomplete without you.”
Yowch. Right through the heart.
You decide then to help in some way, you don’t know how immediately, but you have to do something.
So you start to hum.
Whenever you have a bad day, Bella hums the song her mom used to sing to her. You always ask her to, and even though she says she isn’t a great singer, she indulges you anyway.
Sometimes it’s the only thing that can stop you from a panic attack or calm you enough to go back to sleep after a nightmare.
You hear her gasp slightly before y he sound of sheets rustling, presumably her laying her head down.
You go through the whole song twice over, Bella never telling you to stop or joining you.
After your voice fades out and the line stays dead for a moment, you swear you can hear Bella overthinking.
“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I’m an apex predator. I shouldn’t be so upset whenever you leave for a little bit.”
You laugh lightly at that, and you can hear her scoff across the line.
“I don’t mind. Especially when it’s you. Bella, I love you and I would do anything for you.”
“Even if I’m a beautiful monster who was designed to kill you?”
“Even if you did kill me, I would hope that my blood nourishes you for months on end.”
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heartcereql · 8 months ago
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heaven is a place on earth with you
art donaldson x fem!reader || soft moments in your fresh new home
cw: smoking, minor cursing, no use of y/n (1240 words) a/n: writing about my sweet baby art during finals bc why not
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you swore you could have stayed like this forever. tangled in silky bedsheets, soft rays of light that tingled on your face, body pressed against art's. one of those moments you wished you could pause and settle in for an eternity.
the mattress was on the floor, and cardboard boxes were scattered all around your apartment. your apartment. it felt blissful to say it. a life awaited you there, between the beige and baby blue walls that screamed for another hand of paint. it was far from the ideal, but it was perfect because it was yours. art's and your world. didn't it sound so pretty?
you looked over at him. eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his head a blond mess of curls and his skin warm despite the moring breeze that slipped inside the room through the opened balcony. art looked otherworldly. he always did, in your eyes. and you felt like the luckiest woman on earth with him, because he looked at you, because he touched you, because he loved you. because he felt for you what you felt with him.
and you two were fucking living together. the thought was enough to bloom a grin on your lips. a pure, joyful smile that made you want to jump and dance all around. pressing a feather-like kiss to his temple, you sat up, careful to untangle yourself from his arms and slinging over one of his standford t-shirts.
you reached over to your bedside table- well, the brown leather suitcase on which you had left some stuff. a provisional nightstand, let's leave it at that. you took a cigarette out of the box, holding it between your lips as you grabbed the lighter and your sketchbook and pencil.
the cool air of the early morning greeted you as you stepped out onto the balcony, goosebumps appearing all over your skin. you lit the cigarette with the pink lighter art had gifted you on your fourth date, all that time ago, when you mentioned you kept losing all your lighters. it was safe to say you'd kept this one. it had fake rhinestones forming your initial on one side. you recalled thanking art with a very excited hug and an even more excited peck.
"you made it?" you had ask him, the glint in your big eyes almost matching the glimmer of the rhinestones under the streetlamp. when art nodded, you gushed, hugging him again. "it's beautiful, art, i love it."
"i'm so glad," he smiled. you looked ethereal, all the eagerness painted on your face, cheeks rosy from the cold, babbling about how sweet you found it.
"hey, do you have any more rhinestones left?" you asked.
"yeah, yeah, here," he handed you the stickers, watching you start putting some more on the other side of the lighter. "what are you-"
but he was shut as he guessed the shape of his own initial, a very shimmering 'A'. once finished, you showed it to him proudly.
you both broke into laughter, cheeks flushed and hurting from the smiles, but it didn't matter. not when you felt so safe around him. and certainly not when he pulled you in for a kiss.
taking another drag of the cigarette, you traced your fingertips against the initials on the lighter. call it luck or fate or whatever, but none of the rhinestones had ever unstuck from where you both had originally placed them.
you sat on the beach chair that you'd placed on the balcony last night, before getting trapped between art's arms and lips, and getting lost in him. tipping the ashes off of the end of the cigarette, you opened the sketchbook. it was actually another of art's little thoughtful gifts that he loved to give you, and you loved to receive.
on the first page of it was a sweet little dedication art had written.
'for my angel girl, so you can be an artist and carry me always with you (get it? because i'm ART and you're an ARTist? so funny, i know.) love you forever baby <3'
it always made you smile when you read it, and reach over to kiss him for no apparent reason, leaving him a curious, flushed mess.
on the page you were currently at, there were some seashell doodles from your last trip to the beach. art had picked them out for you, and peered through the whole process with his head resting on your shoulder. beneath the collection of seashells was a watercolor drawing of art's beautiful, dual colored eyes, and a little sketch of a couple of figs.
looking over, your eyes settled on the pastel colored laundry your neighbors in front had hanging and swaying lightly with the dawning breeze.
your traces were fast but precise. soon, the laundry was replicated under your pencil. shirts and pants and socks and even a bra. the cigarette dangled from your lip, forgotten amidst your concentration.
you were so absorbed in drawing little daisies on the socks you didn't hear the sheets rustling as art stirred awake, or his soft footsteps as he approached you. thus, when you heard his voice, you were startled for a second.
"hey, artist."
you turned to him, eyes big. the movement was so sudden the cigarette fell to the floor.
"hey, art," you smiled, setting down the sketchbook and pencil and standing up to greet him.
his hands were on your waist in no time, pulling you in for a kiss. you nuzzled your head onto the warmth of his chest, running your hands on his back.
"morning," you looked up to him. art smiled. god, that smile. it drove you crazy, made you weak at the knees. your soft fingertips drove up to trace his smile lines, trailing down to his jaw in no time.
he tucked some strand of hair behind your ears, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "were you drawing?" art asked, spinning you around so you both faced the view, his arms around your waist.
the sky was not fully blue yet; pink and purple hues shining over the horizon.
"mhm," you hummed. "i want to colour it later, will you help me?"
"of course, baby," he mumbled, pressing kisses to your cheek.
it was something silly you two did sometimes. after pouring you both some coffee (you made it for art the way he liked, as he prepared yours as he'd learnt from several coffee dates), you'd pull out some colour pencils or sharpies and paint the little doodles you had drawn.
"hey," art whispered. "we live together."
you smiled. "yeah, we do. it's perfect."
art huffed at that. "the walls are on the verge of falling apart. and the people from the bar downstairs were noisy as fuck. and the shower-"
"shut up," you playfully hit his arm, rolling around again to face him once more. "it's you and i. sounds perfect to me."
he gifted you another smile. "you're right. it's ours. that's more than enough."
was this your own personal heaven? you found yourself thinking that often, as you got lost in his always tender eyes, or the sound of your laughters together, or the tingles he left on your skin, or the way you loved each other. as he lifted you up and carried you inside for your first breakfast at your place, you were sure of the answer. yeah, of fucking course it was.
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© heartcereql, 2024 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪
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airybcby · 6 months ago
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Daylight
( bllk boys as dads )
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a / n — please i love these men a little too much. PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME
content — aged up! characters, bllk characters x reader, fluff, children mentioned(obviously), character and reader are married, had randomized names given to me for the kids, went crazy with bachira- he's just so girl dad coded, let's act like the WC didnt FUCK kunigami up, idk what happened with the format on kunigamis sorry, isagi yoichi x reader, bachira meguru x reader , rensuke kunigami x reader
synopsis — just a few of the blue lock boys as dads :,)
✿.。. “ and i can still see it all in my mind , ” .。.✿
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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ISAGI YOICHI
— have yall seen this mans dad? literally so supportive
— is at every single sporting event no matter what!
— has embarrassed both you and your son on many occasions
— doesn't understand this is a LITTLE LEAGUE soccer game
you didn't understand why children's soccer games had to be played in the middle of summer at the hottest time imaginable. while you were silently suffering from the heat, your husband was far too into the game going on. "Come on, Kazuki! Get in there!" Isagi's voice boomed across the field, startling some of the other parents. Your cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment as you gave him a gentle nudge. "Yoichi, they're just kids," you whispered, trying to temper his competitive spirit. "Let them have fun." every game day was like this. isagi would get so intense over kazuki, who was spectacular for his age, that he would forget where he was for a bit. there were literally other kids sitting down and picking flowers, it was never as serious as your pro soccer player husband believed. Kazuki, his eyes shining with determination, managed to dribble past an opponent and take a shot at the goal. The ball soared through the air and... missed. Isagi groaned loudly, drawing curious and amused glances from the other parents. "Come on, Kazuki! You can do better than that!" Isagi yelled, his fists clenched. You placed a hand on his arm, giving him a warning look. "Yoichi, relax. He's trying his best." with that, the game was over. kazuki's team had still won 3-2, but you could tell that your son was disappointed in himself over the last shot. Kazuki ran over to you both, his face flushed with something that looked like embarrassment and shame. "You did great, Kazuki!" you said, kneeling down to hug him. "We're so proud of you." Isagi crouched beside you, ruffling Kazuki's hair. "You were awesome out there, buddy. I just got a little carried away. Sorry if I embarrassed you." maybe isagi got a little too into the games, but he always apologized after, it had become somewhat of a ritual at this point. " it's fine! did you see my super cool dribbling? uncle bachira taught me!!" yeah, your husband's enthusiasm got the better of him sometimes, but if there was one thing you knew for certain: kazuki couldn't be prouder of his dad and isagi couldn't be prouder of kazuki.
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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ BACHIRA MEGURU
— girl dad, girl dad, GIRL FREAKING DAD
— constantly doing your daughters hair
— you come home from work to find the both of them with butterfly clips in their hair at least 3 days out of the week
You pushed open the front door, feeling the weight of the day’s stress clinging to your shoulders. It had been one of those days at work where everything seemed to go wrong, and all you wanted was to collapse on the couch and forget about it all. As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by a heartwarming sight that instantly began to melt away the tension that you'd felt in your shoulders. There, sprawled out on the floor, were Bachira and your daughter, Sora, both fast asleep. The room was a delightful mess of colored markers, sketchbooks, and an array of hair accessories scattered around them. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Bachira with his hair adorned in a myriad of butterfly clips and sparkly barrettes, clearly the result of a spirited father-daughter play session. Sora’s hair was similarly decorated, her small hand still clutching a purple clip. Carefully, you tiptoed closer, trying not to disturb their peaceful slumber. As you knelt beside them, you noticed the soft rise and fall of their chests, their expressions serene and content. You reached out to gently remove a clip from Bachira’s hair. making precautions so it wouldn't get tangled in, but as you did, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at you, a sleepy but mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Hey there,” he whispered, his face adorning his usual childish grin. “Rough day?” You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, but seeing you two like this makes it so much better.” Bachira sat up slowly, careful not to wake Sora. He pulled you into a gentle hug, his warmth and the familiar scent of him providing a comforting balm to your frazzled nerves. “We had a lot of fun,” he murmured into your hair. “Sora wanted to have a ‘beauty salon’ day. I think I’m her favorite customer.” Sora stirred beside you, her eyes slowly opening. She blinked sleepily at you both, then broke into a wide smile. “Mommy, you’re home! Look at Daddy’s hair! I made him so pretty!” You leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You did an amazing job, sweetheart. I love it.” Sora giggled, sitting up and wrapping her small arms around your neck. “Can we do your hair next, Mommy?” You laughed, feeling the last of the day’s stress melt away completely. “Absolutely. But first, how about we clean up a little and get some dinner?” In that moment, surrounded by the people you loved most, you knew that no matter how stressful the days could be, you would always have this beautiful, chaotic sanctuary to come home to.
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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI
— has always wanted to be a hero
— having his son made that dream become a reality
— will be playing in his pro games and points to the family section you and your son are sitting in
— plays his heart out for you two
The stadium was buzzing with excitement as fans filled the stands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation. You held your son's hand tightly as you made your way to the family section, both of you decked out in Kunigami's team colors. Your son, Haru, was practically bouncing with excitement, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the massive stadium.
"Mom, look! There’s Dad!" Haru pointed eagerly towards the field, where Kunigami was warming up with his teammates. His hero, his dad, looked every bit the powerful and determined athlete he admired so much.
You smiled, giving Haru's hand a gentle squeeze. "Yes, there he is. Are you excited to watch him play?" Haru nodded vigorously, his face lit up with joy. "He's gonna score a goal today, I just know it!"
As the game began, you settled into your seats, Haru practically on the edge of his. The first half was intense, with both teams displaying incredible skill and determination. Kunigami was in top form, his presence on the field commanding and inspiring.
Then, in the second half, the moment you and Haru had been waiting for arrived. Kunigami received the ball, skillfully maneuvering past the defenders with a combination of strength and finesse. The crowd’s roar grew louder with each step he took towards the goal.
"Go, Dad! You can do it!" Haru shouted, his voice full of unbridled enthusiasm. Kunigami glanced towards the family section for just a moment, his eyes locking onto yours and Haru’s. You could see the fire and determination in his gaze, the unspoken promise he made to his son to always be his hero.
With a powerful kick, Kunigami sent the ball soaring past the goalkeeper and into the net. The stadium erupted in cheers, the sound nearly deafening. Kunigami's teammates rushed to him, celebrating the goal, but his eyes were fixed on you and Haru.
He pointed directly at you both, his expression a mixture of pride and love. You could almost hear the words in your mind: “This is for you. Your hero is here.”
Haru was beside himself with excitement, jumping up and down, waving his arms wildly. "Mom, did you see that? Dad scored! He did it!" You pulled Haru into a tight hug, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. "Yes, sweetheart, he did. Your dad is amazing."
As the game continued, Kunigami played with renewed vigor, his goal having given his team the boost they needed. When the final whistle blew, signaling their victory, the crowd’s cheers echoed around the stadium.
After the game, you and Haru were escorted down to the field to meet Kunigami. Haru ran ahead, throwing himself into his father’s arms.
"Dad, you were awesome! Just like a superhero!" Kunigami laughed, lifting Haru high into the air before bringing him back down for a tight hug. "Thanks, buddy. I told you I'd score a goal for you."
✿.。. “ all of you, all of me, intertwined ” .。.✿
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likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!
i may write more parts for this, i really liked it!
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bruisedboys · 1 year ago
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reader and peeta showering together after a hard day (just some innocent intimacy nothing suggestive) 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love this man sm 😭🤞🏻🤞🏻
!!!!!! thank you for the req angel <3 this inspired me so so much! thanks for kickstarting my writing for peeta era hehe
peeta mellark x fem!reader 16+ please for non-sexual nudity. not really in universe but can read as post mockingjay if you want it to!
Peeta’s sketching on the bed when you come inside. One knee propped up with his back against the wall behind the bed, his sketchbook pressed against his thigh. His golden hair falls over his forehead, messy where he’s been too distracted by his drawing to push it back.
He looks up when you enter, smiling a bruising smile you don’t feel deserving of.
“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” It’s alarming how quickly he sets aside his book and pencil to reach for you, as if he hadn’t been immersed in his sketching mere seconds ago. “C’mere, I missed you.”
As much as you’d like to be wrapped in his strong arms right now, you’re filthy, and he’s just changed the sheets earlier today.
“I can’t. I’m all dirty, see?” You wiggle your dirt-covered hands at him. You’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Time drifted away from you as you planted a new batch of tomato seeds. By the time you were done, the sun was setting and you hadn’t even realised. Your knees are stained dark brown and you’ve got dirt up to your elbows. “I’ll shower first, then we can cuddle. Sorry, baby.”
Peeta looks decidedly put out. You turn away from him before he can convince you any further, because you know if he looks at you like that for much longer you’ll give in. You pull fresh clothes from your side of the dresser and then move down the hallway to the bathroom.
The showers warming up and you’re starting to undress when Peeta knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and he doesn’t have to, but he knocks anyway.
“It’s me,” he says. Who else would it be? You think. Silly man. “Can I come in?”
You pull the door open for him instead of answering. You’re halfway out of your clothes but it doesn’t phase him. Sure, he looks, but not for long, and not in a way that would suggest anything other than affection.
“Hey,” he says. He pushes the door closed behind him. The shower runs in the background, a peaceful thrum. “Do you mind if I join you? You can say no.”
You huff a soft laugh. He should know by now that saying no to him is a near impossible feat. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”
You finish undressing quickly, eager to be clean and warm. Peeta leaves to get fresh towels while you hop in under the hot spray. The majority of the dirt on your skin has been rinsed by the time he gets back. You hear him moving around the bathroom for a minute or so before he pulls the shower curtain aside. You let him in, moving aside to make space for him. It’s tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Weirdly, it’s almost a perfect fit for the two of you.
Peeta moves under the shower head and the water quickly drenches one half of his hair and one of his shoulders. His big hand slides over your hip and he carefully moves you into a position where you’ve both got equal spray.
“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s so close you could count his freckles, each light brown spot scattered across his collarbones.
“Hello,” you say back. His thumb rubs your hipbone, up down, up down. “Is it too warm?”
“No, it’s perfect.”
You smile and touch your palm to his cheek. “You okay?” You’re not asking because he seems out of sorts. You’re asking because you want to know, and if he’s not he’ll tell you. He does the same for you. It’s just how you love each other.
Peeta nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. How did your gardening go?”
You beam. You love that he cares about what you care about. “Good. We’ll have tomatoes growing out of our ears by summer, I think.”
Peeta laughs. It’s a brilliant sound that bounces off the shower walls and warms your chest. “Awesome,” he grins. Then, “Hey, you’ve got dirt under your ear.” He reaches behind you to grab the flannel hanging on the shower caddy. “Look that way for me?”
He holds you still with a hand at your jaw and rubs the dirt from your skin so gently you barely feel it. His touch is like a magnet — you’re drawn to it over and over again, no matter how generously he gives it to you. When he asks if he can wash your hair, you’d be crazy if you said no.
“Yeah, please,” you tell him, past caring how desperate and needing of his touch and love you are. He knows, anyway.
Peeta turns you by the hips so your back is to him, then gently tilts your head backwards. You hand him your shampoo and he squeezes a dollop onto his hands, rubbing his palms together before spreading the bubbles over the top of your head. He’s very, very gentle with it, much more than you’ve ever been, massaging the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into your hair, fingers rubbing circles onto your scalp. His dedicated touch, along with the gentle thrum and warmth of the shower spray, is enough to almost put you to sleep.
“Okay, you can rinse now,” Peeta speaks up. His tone is soft and you suspect he’s noticed your sleepiness. He gets very soft with you when you’re tired. “Shut your eyes, please.”
You do as he says and he directs you under the spray. He holds a hand over your forehead like a barrier so the bubbles can’t escape and sneak into your closed eyes. The action in itself makes your chest ache. He cares more than you could ever comprehend.
When he’s done rinsing you finish scrubbing the dirt from your knees, your elbows. Peeta washes his own hair, and you help him rinse the same way he did for you.
“Thank you, angel,” he says. Warm water and soapy bubbles stream over his shoulders, his neck. His eyelashes are wet, clinging to each other in sparkly triangles. He dips down and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek. “Love you.”
You beam. You love him more than anything. You get on your toes to kiss him properly, a warm press of your mouth on his, a promise for more of the same later, when you’re clean and dry and fed. “Love you too, Peeta.”
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
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ur-local-wizard · 19 days ago
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Eye of the Storm (Part 3)
Your desk partner leaves his notebook after class, and you’re struck by the beauty of its contents.
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Eeek the last part of this story! Had a blast writing it, and I hope everyone enjoyed reading it!
characters are college age, mattheo riddle x fem!reader, whipped!mattheo, use of y/n, FLUFFFFFFFFF, kissing, pretty sure that's it
w/c: 1.2k
masterlist part 1 part 2
a/n: ty to my lovely editor, @pikaglow
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As you passed him, the sketchbook gripped tightly in your hands, you noticed something foreign on his face. His expression was stripped of his usual confidence and sarcasm. He looked almost panicked as he closed the door behind you.
The room was in utter disarray. Drawers were thrown open, clothes and papers were scattered across the floor. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d been searching for something.
So, avoiding his gaze, you thrusted the book in front of you, practically ripping your hands away when he took it. “You left it in Divination,” was your only explanation. His eyes darted between your face and the object in his hands, surprise clear in his eyes. The tension in his room was so palpable, you felt you could hardly breathe. He seemed to flounder around for a second, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. 
“Did you look at it?” His voice was eerily calm, but the discomfort his body carried was clear as day. He set the book down on his desk, falling back into the chair beside it, and his eyes failed to meet your gaze. 
“I didn’t mean to,” you say awkwardly, standing in front of him. You felt guilty when his face fell, but there was no point in lying. “It fell out of my hands,” the words were tumbling from your mouth quickly as you tried to explain yourself. “When it landed on the ground, it was open. And I just got curious. I’m sorry.”
“Fuck.” He carded a hand through his already messy hair, and finally he looked up at you. 
You sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “You’re so talented, Mattheo. But I don’t understand. Why me? And how the hell do you know all that about me-” The words slipped out before you could stop them, disjointed and fast. But they conveyed the confusion and fear warring inside you; something that you couldn’t have said out loud.
He cut you off, his gaze softening. “I can’t help it. You confuse me. And God, you’re everywhere, in every fucking corner of my brain. The way you smile, your laugh. I’m reminded of you by almost everything I see.” His voice trailed off, and you stayed silent. You didn’t know what to say to that. “I tried ignoring it, I really did. But eventually, I just couldn’t. So I drew; it was the only way I knew how to deal with all these emotions.” His voice broke, and it was like a tangible thing – the rare moment of vulnerability he allowed you to see. You wanted to scoop it up and put it in your pocket. You wanted to be able to save it for later, to be able to pull it out and see it whenever you wanted.
“You know I’m not good with emotions. I’ve never felt these types of things before. But now that I do with you, I don’t understand it,” he whispered, head falling down to look at his lap. “It’s terrifying.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at him wide-eyed and flushed as his words settled over you like a heavy blanket. Perhaps the blanket was made of fire, you didn’t quite know yet. Nor did you know what to say, or how to respond to something that raw and unexpected. All you could do was sit there, trying to connect the personified chaos known as Mattheo Riddle with the boy sitting before you now, one who was vulnerable, honest, and so very human. 
“I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m flattered, Mattheo. But it’s all just so overwhelming,” you confessed, voice hushed. His head snapped up, his dark eyes searching yours, disbelief swimming in them. “It’s just—you're so unpredictable. There’s such a disconnect from what you say you feel and what you do. You act like you don’t care about anything, but then you do something like this,” you nodded to the sketchbook. “You notice things that I didn’t think anyone could. I don’t know how to handle that.” 
His lips parted slightly, as if about to say something, but ultimately he decided against it. He stood up and made his way to you, sitting down beside you on the bed. His movements were cautious and measured, as if he was worried he would scare you off. 
“I know I’m not good at this kind of stuff,” he started, his voice low and gentle. “At feelings. At being vulnerable with people who actually matter to me.” He stopped, taking a deep breath. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “But you matter to me, Y/n. More than you’ll ever know.”
His words made your breath catch in your throat, the sincerity in his voice making you feel things it would be impossible to name. You liked this side of him, you wanted to know this side of him more ,and you  just wished it weren’t so confusing. 
So when you voiced that out loud, he nodded. “Of course. And I’m sorry. It was overwhelming for me, but I want you to know that side of me too. Here,” He said, grabbing the sketchbook from his desk and placing it in your hands. “You don’t have to give it back. If this is too much, you can keep it. Burn it if you want, even. I’ll understand.”
You closed your hands around the book, but blinked at him in confusion. “Why would I burn it?”
“You know… cause it’s weird,” he explained, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I mean, who spends hours drawing a girl he doesn’t have the guts to talk to properly?”
“Mattheo…” His name fell from your lips like a sweet prayer as you chuckled. His eyes snapped to yours, filled with a mix of hope and fear. “It’s okay. It’s overwhelming, sure, but not weird.” You paused and smiled at him. “And honestly? It’s kind of endearing.”
“Really?” He asked you, and you nodded in response. 
“You’re incredibly talented, Mattheo. The way you paint the world in this sketchbook of yours,” you placed it in his lap, “the way you paint me, is breathtaking.” With a flushed face, you offered him a smile. 
He didn’t say anything for a long while. But eventually, he cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you. It was gentle, reverent almost, but fleeting – gone before you could process what was happening. 
“Keep it,” he whispered, his breath brushing against your lips. “I want you to have it. You deserve to see yourself as beautiful as I see you .”
The tension in the air seemed to lift then, the weighted blanket from before dissipating. The air was now filled with something warmer, something quieter, more serene. You felt peaceful now, and the look in his eyes said he felt the same. 
You grabbed the notebook from his lap and flipped to a specific page, showing it to him. “This was my favorite of the ones I saw. You even put my favorite flowers in the vase,” you said. He nodded in response, a wide smile on his lips. “I know. That’s why I included them.”
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Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always appreciated, and thank you to everyone for all the wonderful support! It truly means the absolute world to me. And as always, let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
taglist: @ilovejamespottersomuch @mattyriddlesbitch @valenftcrush @sturniolover13 @paankhaleyaaar @thereeallink @voidangxls
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