#also that little sketch on the left is the first time i ever seriously drew a tiger WOO

[mitchmotch]

day 5 of 30 min sketch monday w @revalito! we used the character generator from day 4 again, and my new guy is also an immortal in the same universe :) and they're gay for each other ofc bc im incredibly predictable. sketch on the right is the sketch i did of hades' character--check out his post for his version!

[fairyrcts]

────୨ৎ──── cherry!reader & tattoo artist!matt headcanons !

ᝰ.ᐟ tattoo artist!matt who met you for the first time by doing one of your tattoos

“uhm, no, rachel isn’t here today. you’ll probably be with me this afternoon.” he gave you a welcoming smile while he put on his black latex gloves.

ᝰ.ᐟ tattoo artist!matt who was intrigued by you within moments of meeting you

“what were you thinking?” he asked, preparing his workspace while you laid back on the bench.

“a pin-up doll, near my shoulder.” you spoke softly as matt looked down at you in some sort of adoration.

ᝰ.ᐟ tattoo artist!matt who loves making you his muse for his art

“stay right there f��me… perfect, baby. just perfect.” he breathed out, looking up from his sketch pad a few times as he drew the two bows that sat at the end of your braided hair.

ᝰ.ᐟ tattoo artist!matt who sits with you on his balcony smoking and having deep conversations

“it’s so nice out, tonight.” he took a drag of his cigarette after his sentence, looking out to the bustling city below them.

ᝰ.ᐟ tattoo artist!matt who loves teasing cherry

“matt!” you whined after he took a large sip of your diet coke when you specifically told him a small sip.

“sorry, sugar. couldn’t help it.” he spoke with a sly smirk on his face.

ᝰ.ᐟ tattoo artist!matt who lets you color in his tattoos

“are you coloring the cerberus red? seriously?” he chuckled under his breath as you looked up at him, nodding.

ᝰ.ᐟ tattoo artist!matt who definitely would have some type of claiming kink

“matt, what?” you look at him like he had just said the dumbest thing ever.

“what? you don’t think my name would look good in big ole’ letters across your neck?” he asked genuinely, letting his fingers run across your neck as if he was visualizing the tattoo itself.

۶ৎ cherry!reader who found herself staring from the second she met matt

“stay still, would you, hun?” he asked, slightly quieter than he intended.

you simply nodded, your eyes still sat on his face. the way he bit his bottom lip in concentration.

۶ৎ cherry!reader who loves doodling on him

“whatcha drawin’, sweet girl?” he asked, his left hand stroking your hair while you moved the ballpoint pen on his right.

“i dunno, ‘m jus’ doodling.” she giggled to herself.

۶ৎ cherry!reader who leaves her kiss mark on him

“look at that. all mine, hm?” you smiled down at the brunette that sat on your bed, his cheek and neck covered in your lipstick.

“yes ma’am.” he nodded, snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you down on him in the process.

۶ৎ cherry!reader who likes watching matt draw

his pencil moved rapidly on the paper while you stared. the way his veins became more prominent in his hands, how his brows furrowed while perfecting his art.

“what? why’re ya lookin’ at me like that?” he huffed out a laugh. “just admirin’ you is all.” you smiled.

۶ৎ cherry!reader who leaves little hand-written letters for matt before he leaves for work

‘bye, handsome ! i love you , xoxo’ the end of the small note said. he smiled to himself, tucking the note in his pocket as a keep-sake.

۶ৎ cherry!reader who wears matt’s favorite pair of red, laced panties

“wearin’ those for me, doll?” he leaned down to whisper in your ear after noticing his favorite pair of your panties peaking through your jeans when you bent over.

۶ৎ cherry!reader who adores telling matt she loves him an excessive amount

“i love you.” you smiled, legs crossed sitting in front of him. “i love you too, beautiful.” he leaned in, pecking your nose lightly.

“like a lot.” you added. he rolled his eyes lightly. “i know you do. that’s the 13th time in the past five minutes.”

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ author’s note !

AHHH aren’t they the friggin cutest?? also like mentally i’m thinking like matt’s sorta older (late 20’s or early 30’s) and cherry’s younger so she kinda makes him feel like alive?? YOU FEEL?? but idk cuz i also wanna make a dilf!matt au so i gotta think this out

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ taglist !

@pvssychicken @emely9274 @emilyfaith2003 @nicholaschavezslut69 @sophand4n4

[b4um3pfl4um3]

So simply because I can do this for Volac too, here is another Character History, yippe. You can find Vxy here.

So, first up we have this drawing. It is heavily insipred by Darkiplier and Anti as some might be able to recognize. It's also from when I was around 12 or 13 so perfect edgy era.

We then got a redraw at 15. Both are already the idea that later became Volac though his design and meaning would change quite a lot.

He doesn't have nearly as much drawings as Vxy so we are already at our first digital drawing from 2021. Here he also got his name and his character traits. It is one of if not the very first digital drawing I ever did.

His most recent drawing from 2022 so he is definitely due for a new drawing and possibly a slight redesign similar to Vxy. A little sidenote: he only has three arms, some interpreted him to have four because of the way I drew him but technically its only three. I don't mind him with four arms though. He also canonically went to the backrooms for some time cause I had no idea what to draw for the backround haha.

Volac is basically a complete opposite to Vxy. He never takes anything seriously and is mostly just here to cause chaos and confusion. When it comes to sharing his power with others he only uses it to make them miserable because he thinks it's fun. He often doesn't realize he is hurting the people around him with his behavior. More often than not he also points out flaws in others unpromted. Other demons see him as weak and beneath them but Volac doesn't really care about that he just wants to have fun. While he does prefer to be alone he is often worried about being left behind by his close circle.

I'm just gonna put this here instead of making another post but both Vxy and Volac basically represent me in some ways (if it wasn't already obvious lol). The good, the bad, basically the two sides I find myself switching between based on who I am around. Sometimes it is both at the same time. There has actually been a sketch of them fused as one floating around my tablet for quite some time, maybe I get to finish it at some point.

This has been tones of fun. I might do this again when there are new additions or with different characters and kind of go into their journey.

Also side note: I know Volac and Volcan sound very similar in name but they are totally different characters. I didn't pay attention when I created Volcan and now it feels wrong to change either of their names.

[sleepy-belphie]

Hello! I don’t know if you’re doing headcannon requests but if you don’t mind could you do something along the lines of “the brothers find out mc likes to draw and drew the brothers”

Hi! I am doing hc requests so thank you for sending this in! It was actually really fun to write, I really hope you enjoy it <3 Got a little carried away with this one too lol

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

He’s doing room checks as usual

And you left your sketchpad/drawing tablet out on your desk

You catch sight of it a bit too late and can only watch as Lucifer moves from your dresser to your desk

He pauses as his eyes spot the sketchpad/tablet

He picks it up and looks at it before glancing at you

“May I?”

You nod and nervously watch him go through your work

His face is unreadable as he goes through drawing after drawing of him and his brothers

It feels like an eternity before he finishes

“Do you do commissions?”

It takes a moment for you to register what he’s said

“...what?”

“I’d like to commission you.”

If you do traditional art he asks for a 30x40 of him and his brothers

If you do digital art he asks for a colored, full-body piece of him and his brothers

He lets you decide how much you want to be paid

But he thinks it’s not enough so he pays you 55,000 Grimm

The 30x40 piece hangs in his study

The colored, full-body piece is printed, framed, and sitting on his desk

Mammon:

He bursts into your room one night when you’re finishing up a drawing of Satan and Asmo

You’re not fast enough to hide it from him

“Is that Satan and Asmo? Oi! Where’s my drawing!?”

Before you can show him anything else he’s speaking again

“N-not that I care! It’s hard to capture this perfection! I can see why you haven’t drawn me!”

He tries to act unbothered, but you can see past his tsundere ways

Once he’s done declaring how unbothered he is, you show him some pieces with him in it

He grabs the pad/tablet excitedly and snatches it from you to marvel over your work

“This is actually really good, ya know? I bet we could make some good Grimm off your little talent.”

You can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes

But you tell him that is not happening and take your pad/tablet back

He’s a bit mopey about it for a little but eventually lets it go when he sees you aren’t budging

When he does have a little bit of Grimm he does commission you for a small piece

The brothers’ eyes almost bulge out of their head when they hear that Mammon actually paid you for work

“What!? The Great Mammon can be nice sometimes! It doesn’t mean anything!”

It means a lot actually

But you’re a pro at reading between the lines with Mammon

Leviathan:

He’s on social media when he sees a drawing on his explore page that he’s absolutely in love with

The art style? Immaculate. He wanted to see so many of his favorite game and anime characters in this style

He imagines Ruri-chan in your art style and his brain just *internet dial-up noises* for about five minutes

He goes to the artist’s profile and starts scrolling through all their posted work

He pauses when he comes across a drawing that looked suspiciously like him in his demon form

The face was blacked out but the serpentine tail, the horns, the diamonds on the neck, the side zipped hoodie

It had to be him

In shock, he scrolls back to the top of the profile and checks out the bio and name of the artist

He is greeted by a very familiar face and name

He is in your room less than 2 minutes later

“You! Y-You did this!?”

You almost drop your pad/tablet thanks to his outburst and abrupt entrance

You look at the DDD that was shoved in your face and slowly nod

You thought he was gonna blow up at you for posting a drawing of him, even though his face wasn’t in it

You are very wrong

Levi becomes your #1 source of income

The moment you finish a piece, he is commissioning you again

You worry that he’s draining his bank account because he tips you very well

But he isn’t bothered at all by it

All of your pieces are on display in his room

He also posts all of your art on his social media and tags you

Your page explodes in popularity and the commissions are rolling in from his online friends

You had no idea otakus pay so well

Mammon is very jealous of the amount of Grimm you have piling up

Satan:

One day he asks you about your hobbies and you tell him you draw

“What do you draw?”

Cue internal conflict on if it’s weird to tell someone you’ve been drawing them and their brothers since you’re always around each other

He senses your hesitation and like the smart ass he is, he’s able to guess exactly why 

“Would your hesitance be because of the subject of your art?”

He knows too much for his own good

You decide it’s best for him to see it instead of telling him

Being a fan of literary art, you were worried he may be overly critical of your fine art

He was not the type to sugarcoat anything

However, he simply smiles and hands your pad/tablet back

“You’re incredibly talented, MC.”

A few days later he asks you to tag along with him while he handles something

That ‘something’ is going to feed some stray cats he’s come across

“MC, I’d like to commission you. I’ve found homes for these cats but I want something to remember them by. Will you help me?”

How can you say no to a man holding four cats in his arms?

You take some photos for reference and make four different pieces for him

When you give them to Satan, you swear you’ve never seen a bigger smile on his face

He framed them all and keeps them on top of his bookshelves

Asmodeus:

He found out through Levi’s social media

He commissioned you for a piece of him and the protagonist of a game he recently started playing

This piques Asmo’s interest and he wonders if you’ve ever drawn him before

He approaches you when you’re in the kitchen grabbing a drink

“Hi, darling. I saw the piece you did for Levi and naturally if you’ve done one of him you’ve probably drawn my beauty as well, right?”

You decide to show him since he brought it up

He’s gushing over all of your art

No, seriously, he is praising you so much even the tip of your ears start burning from your blush

He commissions you to draw him in many different ways 

Him in his bedroom, him in the bath, him as a mermaid, him as an exotic dancer

He comes to you with so many different ideas

He tests your limits but you actually like that

Beelzebub:

Beel is rather stoic, but he doesn’t mean to be

It was his resting face and smiling was usually reserved for eating yummy food

But you wanted to practice drawing him with different expressions

Beel’s welcoming manner gave you the courage to approach him and ask if you can take some pictures of him to use for a reference

He’s shocked you wanna draw him but agrees with the condition that he gets to see some of your other work

You show him different pieces of him and his brothers and he’s smiling the entire time

“These are all so good. I didn’t know you could draw.”

He commissions a piece of him and Belphegor and one of all seven brothers

But he also asks if he can watch you draw them

You both spend quite a few nights together

You drawing and him munching on snacks and feeding you some every once in a while

His presence is actually pretty calming so you ask him if he minds staying around while you work even after you finish his commission

Beel being Beel, agrees to keep you company

The night usually ends with him carrying you to bed

Sometimes, he takes you to his bed to cuddle

Belphegor:

Belphie was actually the first brother you drew

You came across him asleep in the attic once and he looked so perfect

Your fingers were itching to draw him, so you did

It became a routine for you to head to the attic and draw him while he slept

You always crept out before he woke up

You thought he had no idea of your little practice sessions

But one day you looked down to fix a mistake you made on his nose

When you looked back up you saw Belphie staring right at you

“You know, if you’re gonna draw me the least you can do is show me.”

You try to stammer out an apology as he sits up

“Oh, I don’t care. You don’t make noise or anything, I’m just very hyperaware of my surroundings. So I know when someone is in the same room as me when I sleep.”

He moves over to you and looks at your pad/tablet

“Hm, not bad MC. Show me your other work some time.”

Then he goes back to his sleeping spot, curls up, and falls back asleep

You sit there with your pencil/stylus in your hand, trying to wrap your head around what just happened

But he didn’t seem disturbed so you continue drawing

When he wakes up you show him more of your work featuring his brothers

He asks if he can have a quick sketch you did of him and Beel 

You jokingly say he has to pay for it

He actually pays you for it

He puts it up in his room

It’s nice to see when you visit him and Beel

[illyaana]

Cursive Ink - Yamaguchi Tadashi

Collab: Pain Tolerance by @haikyutiehoe

Thanks for making this collab, hun! the idea of pierced and/or tatted anime characters got me squealing~! Do check out the other works involved in the collab in the link up there~

Tags: Yamaguchi's POV, Angst, Fluff, Yamaguchi x Tattoo Artist! Reader, Binaural

Synopsis: Love never really goes the way we plan it to be - and Yamaguchi was no exception. His failed confession to his former best friend left him heartbroken. However, his decision to go to a tattoo parlour may have been the best (and craziest) choice he's ever made in his life. (I also believe Yamaguchi is pansexual, so don't get so confused XD)

Word Count: 2552

A bit of context: In Japanese, 'Yama' means mountain, 'Tsuki' means the Moon

⋯⋯ ⫍ Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

Want to get a personalized drabble about your love life with an anime character you like? Check out my 50 followers event's post here! You can choose any character from BNHA, Haikyu!!, AOT, JJK and Kuroko no Basketball <3

“Yamaguchi, no,” Tsukishima said, pulling his hand away from my hand.

“Why are you lying to yourself? I know you feel the same way, Tsuki - don’t lie to yourself.”

“I don’t, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said, eyes turning cold, “I am not gay - I am a straight, heterosexual male. I love women and women only.”

Lies.

You are lying to me.

You are in love with me.

You are already mine, Tsuki - just wake up and see it.

I know you can.

what was that kiss under the tree when we were kids?” I whispered, not wanting my voice to break, “If you never loved me, why kiss me, Tsuki?”

“We both agreed that it was a mistake, didn’t we?” The blonde male said, anger rising, “We both agreed - not just me.”

I said yes - I know I did.

That doesn’t mean I meant it.

You know me, Tsuki - I’ll agree to everything you’ll say.

Why aren’t you realising it?

I’ve waited for so many years for you to ask me out, but you never did.

I’m here, right in front of you, asking you to be mine - just say yes.

I don’t want to wait anymore - it’s too painful.

“I lied, okay?!” I scream, “I loved you ever since we were kids, Tsuki. I want to be the one you come back to when you leave, the only one you kiss, the only one you hug, the only one you dream about - I want to be that to you. Is that so hard to believe?!”

I hugged myself, not wanting to break down anymore.

That small hug was the only thing stopping me from letting all hell break loose.

I had kept this in ever since I knew Tsuki - ever since he saw him in that park.

I knew everything about the tall male. The way he smiles, the way he hides his anger when he wants to be respectful, his secret love for dinosaurs, his soft side, his small quirks - I knew it all like the back of his hand.

I knew what he needed to be the middle blocker’s lover, and I was willing to sacrifice myself to be the best thing for Tsuki.

One thing was clear in my head; Tsuki felt the exact same way.

“Yamaguchi, I’m sorry. I don’t love you the way you want me to,” Tsukishima said, kneeling beside the green-haired male.

“I don’t believe that.”

I forced his lips on Tsukishima’s.

I closed my eyes, trying to memorise how the lines of his soft and pale lips felt on his - how it softly caressed my lips without even responding to the intimate kiss I was trying to initiate.

I felt Tsukishima trying to push me away, but I didn’t let go of the male’s collar.

He already took my first kiss - what is the difference if I took another?

The second our lips left each other’s, Tsukishima punched my nose.

Blood dripped from my nose, but I couldn’t care less.

“Don’t you fucking call me Tsuki ever again, dumbass. Better yet, don’t call me.”

My last day of high school ended with blood and tears, but the pain in my heart from losing my best friend hurt more.

⁜

⁜

⁜

I stared at the stars, lying down in the little treehouse we made as kids in my backyard.

I tried to cry it all out, but I couldn’t.

I feel cheated by you, Tsukishima Kei.

You made me make you my everything.

My voice was tuned to calm you down.

My hands we moulded to keep you warm.

My life was made to keep you safe, but you don’t need me to be you.

But I do - I need you to be me.

One-sided crushes are the worst form of love, aren’t they?

You give it all for that one person - to please and cherish them.

They just think it’s just a form of showing how strong your friendship is, but you want more.

You are the only one who wants more.

You are the one crying at night about how you wished they were by your side.

You are the one craving for their touch.

You want them, but they don’t want you.

I don’t care about you bruising my face, Tsukishima-san.

I care about you fucking me up like this.

I will no longer wait for your messages.

I will no longer look at your tweets and be the only one giving reactions.

I will erase you from my narrative, Tsukishima-san.

You can wonder about how much you’ve hurt me when I have reached somewhere you can’t even touch me.

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You are absolutely sure about this, right?” Hinata said, worry laced in his words.

I open the doors to the tattoo parlour and I was instantly mesmerized. The walls were filled with such intricate designs - sizes ranging from as small as a finger to as big as my whole body. The smell of fresh ink slowly hit me, reminding me of my schooling years.

“I am sure, Hinata. I was planning to do this ever since I was small, either way. I just wished it was under better circumstances,” I reply, eyes locked on all the flower motifs.

I always wanted a tattoo - it didn’t matter how big or small it was. I always thought of how beautiful the idea was - to have something permanently inked on your skin to remind you of who you were. Flowers drew with such hidden meaning, curved lines speaking words of poetry, ideas brought into life - tattoos are an artist’s masterpiece meant to paint on my skin as a canvas.

“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind waiting here with you - “

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Kageyama later today?” I remind him, chuckling.

“That man is late for everything. I think he can handle me coming late for once.”

“I’m seriously okay, Hinata! Go get ready, I’ll send a picture when it’s done,” I say as I push him out of the shop.

“Okay, okay - make sure to send me that picture!” He said as he ran out of the shop.

Why follow me if you’re itching to leave?

“That friend of yours has really bright orange hair - is it dyed or natural?” I hear someone say.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

“Oh - uh- um- It’s natural,” I say, forming some space between us.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

You tied half of your hair in a small bun, showing me the small, intricate designs on your neck. Flowers decorated your soft skin, moving down under your shirt’s sleeve. Small golden piercings decorated your ears. They were encrusted with gems of various colours that shifted under the soft lighting gracing your skin.

You looked so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring.

“So, do you have an appointment?” You asked, breaking my train of thought.

“N- no.”

Stop stuttering, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“First time, huh?” you smiled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The pain is different for everyone, but I think you can handle it.”

“T-Thanks.”

God, stop stuttering.

“God, you’re cute,” you laughed while looking at my frazzled face, “Don’t worry, my dearest client - you’re in capable hands. Come - let’s discuss your design, shall we?”

You grabbed my wrist and brought me to your corner, leaving me blushed mess.

Cute.

They called me cute.

I’m breathing, right?

Okay, I’m breathing.

As we were walking, I got to see the back of your neck - more specifically, a part of your tattoo.

It was a blossoming rose - a huge one. It had vines that grew from it, encircling your whole neck, moving down your shirt and reaching the tips of your fingers. Smaller roses grew from it, branching even smaller vines surrounded by leaves.

I wanted to know the story behind that tattoo. It looked so beautiful yet so dark. The thorns that came from certain vines alarmed me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was brought to your piercings - more specifically, the design of the encrusted jewels. They were flowers, as well. In the middle of each jewel held a line of gold that branched out, just like the vines of your tattoo.

“Oh, you’re looking at my tattoo and piercings, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Is it okay if I am?” I ask, worried.

You laughed.

“Of course it’s fine. Who would get a tattoo and not prepare for all the staring? Not going to lie, here - these piercings and that tattoo help me fuel my ego. After all, everyone’s staring at them,” you joke, playing with your hair.

You sit on your chair, pointing at the one opposite you.

“What are you waiting for? Sit.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“So, you want some small vines surrounding a moon, right?” You ask as you brought out your tablet.

“Yeah, on my middle finger.”

I had enough of his little orders - I’ll twist his words into something much more meaningful. If the Moon isn’t willing to dance with the mountains, let the vines make the Moon feel the mountain’s pain from its rejection.

“That sounds really pretty,” you say, smiling at me, “Give me a minute - I’ll do a rough sketch and you can tell me if it’s to your liking.”

You took out the tablet’s pen tool and began to sketch. I eyed your eyes as you continued to sketch what would be my tattoo.

Thanks to the light from the tablet, I could see a part of another tattoo hidden under your shirt.

It was multiple birds flying across your collarbones, but there was one bird that moved to your neck. It was a smaller bird - much, much smaller. However, its wings were bigger - bigger than the other birds’.

“My family isn’t very appreciative of my more artistic side,” you began, knowing I wanted to know the story behind it.

“I love art - all types of art. Writing, drawing, painting - I loved how you could make a whole new world just with a few lines. My family…” you paused, “As much as they loved me, they couldn’t see a world where I could make a living from it. They tried to throw away this side of me, but the more they pushed it away, the more I needed it.”

You raised your tablet, showing me your sketch.

I loved it.

It was a crescent moon, wrapped in vines. Vines grew both upwards and below, accompanied by stars. Small buds were growing from the ends of the vines, leaves surrounding them.

I don’t know how you did it, but you captured all I felt about him in a few minutes - it astounded me.

“I took a few creative liberties, but-”

“It’s amazing - don’t change it.”

You’re amazing.

You smiled, getting off your chair.

“Head to that room,” you pointed to the smaller room right beside us, “I’ll get all the tools ready.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You ready?” you said, placing the pen right above my middle finger.

Why did I choose my middle finger for my first tattoo? It’s literally right on a bone, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“I guess…” I whisper.

“It won’t be that painful - trust me. People overexaggerate,” you say, trying to calm me down.

People weren’t overexaggerating - it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

I bit my lip, holding back the scream on the end of my lips.

“Hold on,” you said, removing the pen.

You soon came back with candy and began to unwrap it.

“Open your mouth, my liege.”

After chuckling, I opened my mouth and you plopped the sweet in my mouth.

Ooh, mango.

“Focus on the sweet, okay?” You said, patting my back.

It felt less painful, surprisingly. Focusing on the sweet rolling in my mouth helped reduce the pain significantly.

I raised my head slightly so that I could see your intense focus on my finger. You were biting on your lower lip as you slowly moved the pen on my finger, following the temporary tattoo you made earlier as a guide. You were annoyed by a strand of your hair that refused to stay behind on your ear - your anger-filled expression said it all.

Using my other hand, I pushed it behind your ear to help you focus.

A soft thank you came from you as you continued.

Blood rushed to my cheeks the minute those words left your lips.

So cute.

“You didn’t finish your story…” I asked, trying to end the awkward silence.

“It was that interesting to you?” you smiled.

You’re interesting, Y/N.

I nod.

“I asked them if I could draw again. I didn’t want to lose that skill I finetuned all my life - it felt so wrong. They thought I’d never succeed in life if I focused on ‘these useless hobbies’ and shouted at me. I remember crying for hours, but they didn’t care,” you say as you turn off the pen, wiping the tip.

“I began to spend more hours in school just so that I could scribble and draw. They’d never know what I did there - all the drawings I did, all the stories I wrote, all the songs I sang. I am not like my parents. I strayed from the thought of ‘art is useless’- I am the bird moving away from the flock,” you said, turning your chair towards me.

“Why did they hate art? It’s something that makes you happy - If it’s something you like, you should do it,” I said, slightly pissed.

Thank God they didn’t listen to them.

“Best part - they have paintings all over the house,” you snickered.

You sighed, stretching your arms in the process.

“I don’t really care about their opinion about it, anyway. I’m no longer under their wing - I’m my own person. I get money by doing the thing I love, and that’s so fulfilling. The only thing they’re paying for right now is my college education - that’s it,” you said as you pressed a wet cloth to my new tattoo.

“Wait - we’re the same age?”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

“I expected you to be way older,” I say, embarrassed.

“I am utterly offended, sir,” you say, feigning sadness.

“Come on!” I say, laughing.

“I am expecting a tip,” you say, walking towards the door.

You’re amazing, Y/N. I just wish I met you earlier…

⁜

⁜

⁜

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Yamaguchi Tadashi,” you say, closing the cash register in front of you.

“And I you, my friend.”

I walk to the door, gripping on the door handle.

I want you in my life, Y/N. Even if we spent just a few hours together, you’ve made me so happy. If you are open to the idea, I want to be friends with you - and who knows? We might become something…

I walk back to the cashier.

“Oh, did I forget something?” You ask, worried.

“No, no…”

Come on, say it.

“Hey, wanna exchange numbers? I wanna hang out with you - of course, only if you want to,” you say smiling.

Holy shit.

“Yes, please.”

You held back your laugh the minute you saw my face.

How many times have I made you laugh just by you looking at my face?

“Here’s my number,” you passed me your card, “Message me so that I get your number, too!”

“Okay!” I smile.

Holy shit. I did it.

“See you again, ‘guchi.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

[fenheart87]

Sprint Challenge: 3.31.21

I am aware this is a day late but it's finally done!

"Dude, how did you mess this up?!"

 "I did everything you told me to!"

 "Bro, obviously not! Now we have a sleeping beauty who didn't consent nor a way to wake her up! Our grades are gone and maybe our magical career period! We don't even know if she's a witch or a human!" Nino's voice rose with his stress to a higher pitch, hands clutching his short curls, his hat long forgotten on the floor when he first entered the room. 

"I know this Nino!"

 "Adrien. Dude, bro I need you to think very carefully and tell me what you used for this potion."

 "I don’t remember the exact order but I wrote down most of it on this paper. I used all the ingredients listed, like you told me to." The blonde pulled the page from his spell journal where it was tucked and passed it over for observation.

 "Okay well half of these would kill a human, vampire or any type of sea related being. So she's magical somehow at least."

“Because that makes me feel better…” The wind based wizard muttered.

“It should! It means she’s sleeping and not dead, you dummy!” The childish insult slipped out before he could help it and the blonde drew back as if he’d been slapped.

“I’m the dummy? You’re not much better if you can’t reverse the spell you gave me!” Adrien snapped, moving from his seated position to start pacing as the stress was finally hitting him. Even Plagg, his familiar, seemed to be judging his newest failure.

“Dude, chillax. I promise we can fix this, it’s just going to take some time… Hopefully no one puts up a missing poster.” The Earth affiliated wizard-to-be moved from the couch where the young woman slept and started to pull together the ingredients used.

“Nino! Seriously?!” 

“Adrien, I got you. It will be fine, now I need your help to recreate this potion so I can figure out a reverse or cure depending on its… Potency.”

Adrien grumbled but made his way over to the workbench, picking up Plagg from the back of the couch on his way. Using the hand written instructions they measured out the ingredients and consulted other books on the different effects mixing the ingredients would have. In the midst of their research a knock sounded at the door. Nino left his blonde friend to answer the door. Pulling the heavy oak open revealed another teen slightly taller and muscular, his hair was a contrast to his dark robes being black faded to teal tips. His hand were raised and empty to show he was non-threatening.

"Hi, I have a somewhat awkward question but I'm looking for someone and hoping you may have seen her? On the petite side, blue black hair in pigtails and wears a ladybug cloak?"

"Sorry can't say that we have, what's her name? We can keep a look out for you."

"That'd be great." The stranger smiled.

"Hey I found something that could help." Adrien piped up from the work table,  drawing the other males attention inward.

"Oh thank God you brought her inside."

Now they were both concerned and eyeing the newcomer with suspicion. Between the two, being an air and earth affinity that knew each other from boyhood, they had countless hours of spellcasting and mock fighting techniques that were being geared up to use against this stranger.

“Ah, that didn’t come out right. Her name is Marinette and her familiar Tikki has been looking for her all day. Usually she’s too busy taking care of everyone else that she forgets herself and well, falls into a mild coma to recover. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her fall asleep this deeply though....”

“So uh, my dude…” Nino carefully spoke, shifting slightly so his wand was easier to reach.

“Luka, you might know Juleka? She’s my little sister.”

“Oh, we have potions class together! Juleka never said anything about a brother though.”

“We’re always around each other so no need to miss or talk about each other. So where did you find Sleeping Beauty? Last I knew she was sketching for Mendelvie’s class.”

“Uh, well…” Adrien shared a look with his best friend and decided to come clean with a sheepish countenance. “Funny story, I was making a potion for class and found the last ingredient I needed near where Marinette was sketching… She asked for something to drink and I gave her the wrong jar…”

"Well whatever you put in it definitely worked to get her to sleep but she's not under a sleeping spell. This is for Bustier's test right?" Nino nodded and let Luka in the room, closing the door behind him. "So the version she wants you to make is the hardest version out there and almost no one can make it. Which is the point, it's a test to your abilities to see what your second affinity could be or help pick a specialization. May I see the ingredient list?"

"Sure. So what year are you?" Nino shuffled the ingredients list over and went back to the Wildflowers of the Forest tome to compare.

"Third year, my apprenticeship starts soon." Luka glanced over the ingredients list and paused noticeably, scanning the ingredients on the table. "Are these the exact ingredients you used? Everything looks and smells the same?"

"Yeah, everything's here." Adrien double checked each jar and sprig, only hesitating on the belladonna blossoms. "I used pink ones instead of the purple."

"You sir, are a very lucky accidental genius." The older wizard sighed and the tension seemed to finally melt away. "Your mix up saved her life and created a sleep tonic. Marinette is half Naga and that much belladonna apparently helps her sleep because she has venom sacs that are potent enough to absorb the deadly part."

"We don't need to tell Ms. Bustier do we?" The wind wizard asked nervously. 

"Probably, there are other Naga students and I know several other reptile species that could benefit from it. Also incase of a sneak attack the chance to study cures would be invaluable." Luka clapped a gentle hand on each of their shoulders before moving to pick up the still sleeping student. As Marinette yawned she exposed her fangs that were bared as a defense while in her sleeping state, her tongue flickering along Luka's jaw to bury her face in his crook of his shoulder.

"That's kind of creepy but cool…" Nino remarked, starting to clear up the research mess.

"It helps that she knows me, Nagas much like their snake counterparts can taste the air to smell."

"Oh my Gods, Adrien dude! You should totally get with Kagami!"

"What?" The blond was looking at the other like he was crazy with his outburst.

"She's a Naga, they taste air, yanno wind? The only thing that's between your ears?"

"Did you just-" Adrien turned towards Luka who politely coughed carefully to hide his laugh and not wake up the still slumbering girl. "Did he just call me an airhead?!"

"Well I'll leave you to it, let me know if you need anything. Jules knows how to find me." With that parting remark he left the squabbling younger wizards to clean up and compile a report for their grade. With a quick glance around, the wizard opened a secret passageway and took it as a shortcut to near where Marinette's rooms were.

"Mm, my mate… warm and safe, good mate…" Marinette murmured in her sleep and it took everything in Luka to not drop the sleeping girl like she just dropped that bombshell. That was something to unpack at a much later date and when the mixed Naga was awake.

[lilac-melody]

Heroine Development Plan Novel Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I am in no way a professional or proper translator! I’m making the chapters in third person to avoid the confusion of first/third POV switches that the novels tend to do.

Masterlist here

After the summer vacation, the heat seemed to continue well in to even September. It was cheerful and yet sweaty, even in the shade.

Today, the art class was outside doing sketches, and Hiyori went with the girls who were close to her.

Everyone was drawing each other’s faces and the flowers of the flowerbed, but most people talked more than drew. A few girls would gather, and they would inevitably start talking.

The talk was about the classmates Shibasaki Aizou and Someya Yujiro, the two popular idols known as the unit LIPxLIP.

Hiyori learned about them on the day of the entrance ceremony.

She had left her parents home and entered Sakuragaoka high school to continue onshore, which she used to do in junior high school.

She didn’t even know anything about the idols at the time.

It wasn’t the case that in urban schools there were just people in classes who were idols, so Hiyori was surprised at the two noisy people from the first day of enrollment, but now the scene was completely familiar.

It had become an everyday thing.

The girls in her class were talking happily while drawing their pictures.

Yujiro tried to lean forward, but Aizou hid his notepad with his arms.

“Don’t look!”

This made Yujiro make fun of him with a mischievous grin while Aizou turned red.

The girls around Hiyori laughed while talking. “Those two are close friends!”

“Good...I also want to draw Aizou and Yujiro.”

“Well, if you have the courage, then go for it?”

“Impossible! After all, we can only look from a distance!”

The girls who were with Hiyori were speaking in a friendly manner.

“By the way, did you see the newly uploaded MV?”

“The girl who plays the role of the heroine is also cute. I want them to escort me like that!”

“I’m confident if they ever took me away, I would faint!”

Everyone was talking about the music video for the song “Nonfantasy”.

As a matter of fact, Hiyori, who was at the recording site, felt a little complicated about the topic.

At the request of the girl who played the heroine, Hiyori got stuck at the lake trying to pick up some dropped gloves. The memories of the failure of spilling coffee on to the costume of the girl came back as well. It made Hiyori want to hold her head and sigh.

Of course, she couldn’t tell anyone that it happened. At the entertainment agency which the two belong, it was a secret to work as a part time manager apprentice. And at school, she wasn’t supposed to talk to them.

“Hiyorin, what’s wrong?”

Suddenly, Hiyori raised her head. The other girls looked at her as if asking “are you okay?”

“Ah, well...I was wondering what to draw.” Hiyori laughed, putting her hand behind her head.

“Hey, Hiyori, what’s your type?” One of the girls grinned, turning to her.

“Huh? Which one..?” Hiyori felt rushed from the sudden question.

“Aizou-kun or Yujiro-kun!”

“Both...” Hiyori casually diverted her gaze and answered in a mumble.

(I like them a little...because both are getting along right now!)

Only Hiyori knew their true nature outside of the school, and they had a lot of problems.

“That’s right, the two of them are LIPxLIP, after all!”

“I really like Yujiro-kun!”

“Yujiro is good, but I like Aizou!”

Hiyori moved her pencil while listening to everyone’s excitement.

(Actually, they’re not princes at all...)

Hiyori drew the two as chibis with devil horns in her notebook.

They were really cool when they were doing their dance lessons seriously, shooting or recording, or during a live show. But Hiyori knew better.

She had a busy schedule everyday and it was a real eye opener.

She did also know of their dreams and supported them. She couldn’t do much, so she was just supporting them as a manager apprentice.

When Hiyori remembered their usual attitude, she felt sick and squeezed her pencil.

Before she knew it, her picture of the two little demons were holding sticks and blowing fire from their mouths.

And then it was a chibi Hiyori who were trampling on them with her foot.

So far, the relationship between the two and Hiyori went like this.

(Yesterday, they stole the sweets that the staff gave me..!)

After the shooting, they hung their jackets on her arm and head.

It was also normal for her to have to pull their heavy luggage without mercy.

Recalling that, she puffed her cheeks. “After all, they’re the worst!”

The girls around Hiyori turned to look at her, asking “what?”

Surprised, Hiyori blushed and panicked. “Nothing!”

Protecting the image of those two was also an important role of the manager apprentice.

🌸

After school, Hiyori changed her shoes from her indoor to her outdoor shoes and left the school building.

All club activities were closed today, so other girls were talking, and asked her “where are you going?”

(I want to go eat crepes...but today I have my part time job...)

However, she had to save money right now. The crepes would have to wait for a while. Hiyori sighed. “Hah...”

Even though she knew from when she started at Sakuragaoka high school that living alone was possible, it was quite difficult.

Just a little bit, Hiyori often envied the other students who were enjoying their free school life.

(No! I’m not going to complain!)

Hiyori shook her head and started walking towards the main gate.

Along the way, she saw a girl walking ahead. Hiyori’s face lit up.

“Setoguchi-senpai!”

Hiyori ran up while waving her hand. The girl looked back, holding her shoes in both hands.

Setoguchi Hina, a second year student, was the most admired senior in the track and field club, which Hiyori was aiming for.

She had a small body shape, and her cute hair was divided into left and right and was curled.

“Hiyori-chan.” Hina stopped and smiled.

“Senpai, aren’t you with Enomoto-senpai today?”

“Eh? Why?”

“Don’t you two often go home together..?” Hiyori tilted her head.

Enomoto Kotaro, a second year student who belongs in the soccer club, was in the same class as Hina.

“That’s just because the direction of our houses are the same...we’re not going home together!” Hina said in a hurry, her face turning red.

“Oh, I guess I misunderstood.”

(Setoguchi-senpai is cute, after all...)

Hina and Kotaro were childhood friends and their houses were apparently right by each other, so they often walked home after club activities.

Hiyori often heard rumors that they were dating, but it seemed different.

“He suits you...”

“Hiyori-chan?”

Hiyori noticed her gaze and quickly shut her mouth with her hands.

(I’ll end up saying something unnecessary!)

It was a bad habit of Hiyori’s to unknowingly say what she was thinking. She knew of it, but it was hard to fix.

She bowed. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine...I’m used to it.” Hina smiled a little. “Oh! Hiyori-chan! What are you going to do at the upcoming sports festival?”

“Eh? Sports festival?” Hiyori’s face turned surprised.

“Don’t you know? It’s next Saturday. Our class has already started practicing!”

“Ehh...our class hasn’t done anything yet...”

(Akechi-sensei didn’t say anything about it...)

“So what kind of event is Setoguchi-senpai going to appear in?”

“I’m in the 1500 meter mixed relay race, which is the same as I did last year!”

“Relay race?”

“Yeah, the relay race is the most exciting every year.” Hina answered with a finger on her chin.

“I want to be in the relay race too!” Hiyori stepped forward.

She was good at running, and the sports festivals were her favorite school events.

She couldn’t help but be excited.

“Then Hiyori-chan’s class may be my strongest opponent.”

“Isn’t it by grade?”

“Qualifying is by grade. On these, the top two classes advance to the finals.”

(Which means if I get to the finals, I can run with Setoguchi-senpai!)

“I’ll do my best to get into the finals!” Hiyori declared, causing Hina to laugh.

“Yeah, I have to do my best too!”

The two passed through the main gate and heard voices. Aizou and Yujiro were enthusiastic with their fans.

Uchida’s car was parked beside them, but they hadn’t gotten in yet.

The two had been asked to sign autographs, and they glanced at her.

At that moment, Hiyori straightened up and dropped her bag at her feet.

(Both are in a bad mood...)

She could tell from the way their mouths moved.

They were in a very bad mood, but they still had fanservice faces in front of their fans with smiles.

Aizou and Yujiro shook hands with their fans before getting into the car.

The car door shut, and Uchida’s car accelerated rapidly, moving away.

“Hiyori-chan? What’s wrong?”

As she was sweating cold, Hina looked at Hiyori’s face.

“Oh...I just have to go to my part time job...”

“Are you going to be late? I wish you told me! Get going!”

“Excuse me!” Hiyori bowed, picked up her bag, and dashed.

She wanted to talk to Hina a little more, but it couldn’t be helped.

She turned the corner of the road ahead and checked left and right. She entered the narrow side road, where the car of Manager Uchida was parked near the fence of the park.

(Okay, no one’s watching!)

Hiyori rushed into the passenger seat of the car and fastened her seat belt. She let out a relieved sigh, holding her bag.

“You’re late!”

As soon as the car started to move, the moody voices of Aizou and Yujiro flew from the back seats.

Hiyori just shrugged and looked at the rear view mirror.

Both of them had unfriendly faces, and Hiyori wondered where their smiles had disappeared to.

(No one knows about these two...)

The fans all had ideal prince-like dreams and illusions of them, but if they knew the truth about these two, they would definitely become disillusioned.

(I can’t let anyone know they’re angry, so I’ll do my best!)

Hiyori grasped her fist, burning in determination.

🌸

In home room the next day, the sports festival was finally decided in Hiyori’s class. It was her first sports festival in high school, so she was really excited.

But everyone in class just looked annoyed and the discussion wasn’t progressing at all.

The competitions that seemed to be relatively enjoyable were decided immediately, but the relay race was hardly filled.

(Does no one like the sports festival?)

Hiyori looked around at her classmates, who just seemed to be chatting.

The seats were changed in the second semester, but her seat was still near Aizou and Yujiro. When Hiyori visited a shrine, she prayed that they would be separated from each other.

But now they were on either side of her. The vertical seats but now are side by side.

For some reason, God seemed to be giving her trials.

Looking next to her, Yujiro was asleep at his desk, probably because he didn’t want to participate in the discussion. 

The girls who saw it giggled while cooing. “Cute~!”

Aizou was talking to a boy in front of him.

“Shibasaki, what are you going to be doing?”

“Anything’s fine with me.” Aizou answered in an unmotivated tone.

(Both Shibasaki-kun and Someya-kun in a sports festival...)

Neither of them actively participated in school events. Work was hard, so they avoided extra physical work as much as possible.

Hiyori understood it, but she felt like that was a waste.

It would be a shame if they didn’t enjoy their school life.

“If you don’t decide, you’ll stay after school.” Akechi-sensei, who was sitting in his chair, said that.

“Then I’m okay with the relay race.”

As soon as Aizou spoke, other people started speaking too with “me too!” and “oh, then me too!”

One after another, girls were raising their hands to participate.

“It can’t be just girls who join, this is a mixed gender relay race!” A girl on the sports festival committee said in a loud voice, writing her name on the blackboard.

Her voice was drowned out though.

“Alright, then I’ll decide the rest.” Akechi-sensei got up from his chair to do it.

“Ehh?!”

“If I don’t do it, you guys will take forever to decide.”

When he went up to the blackboard, Akechi wrote some names.

“Why am I doing the 1500?!”

“Hey, Yujiro is also in the relay! This isn’t fair!”

There were dissatisfied voices here and there.

“Eh?!” Aizou, who was listening, blurted out in dissent.

“...What?” Yujiro raised his head and looked at the blackboard.

Maybe he was still half asleep, since his voice was lower than usual.

It seemed he finally realized he was selected as a relay member.

“Terrible...”

Only Hiyori, who was close to Yujiro’s seat, heard him grumble.

“If you are a member of the sports festival committee, please make a clean copy and submit it later.”

Akechi hit the blackboard and smiled. “Then...homeroom is over.”

Almost immediately, the bell started ringing.

🌸

On the day of the sports festival, it rained lightly in the morning, but from the afternoon onwards, it was sunny, and the competitions went smoothly.

The only competitions left were the mixed relay race and dance.

The cheering voices of each class were enthusiastic.

At the starting line, students participating in the relay were gathering.

Hiyori, who was wandering around, found the girl she was looking for.

(Setoguchi-senpai is amazing. Senpai’s class was the first in qualifying!)

In the mixed relay qualifying competition held in the morning, the baton was handed to the next runner, who would start running.

Hiyori grabbed her hand tightly.

“I have to make sure we don’t fall behind or pull out!”

Near them, Akechi was facing a teacher who taught math.

“Akechi, we’ll win this one, it’ll be different from last year!” The math teacher confidently pushed the edge of his glasses with his finger.

“No...I think we’ll win again this year.” Akechi laughed with his hands in his pockets.

(Akechi-sensei, it’s hard to win...)

He seemed unusually laid back though.

“Arisa-chan, I’ll run hard, so please support me!” A second year passed by Hiyori. He had light colored hair and long bangs that were pinned back. The girls around him kept looking back.

“Yeah, well, this class is different.” The girl who was being followed said while smiling.

(That’s the senior who often talks with Enomoto-senpai...)

Hiyori watched and supported the soccer club game, and sometimes watched them practice.

“That’s right, Shibaken.” Kotaro said.

Shibaken seemed to be a nickname for the second year student.

“So you better run properly!”

Shibaken, who had been grabbed by the collar of his gym shirt, smiled loosely. “What? Kotaro is the one who can’t pull out~”

“Huh?! I’m not lazy!”

Kotaro was being teased, and he replied in a huff.

(Setoguchi-senpai’s class seems fun...)

They were united in other competitions, and in terms of the overall score, the girls did the best.

(I wonder if my class is okay...)

“Yujiro, you need to give it your all just this once. I’m seriously aiming for the championship!”

Hiyori saw Aizou grab Yujiro’s shoulders and speak with a serious face. Both looked good in their headbands, and the cheers from the seats were loud.

“...Why?”

“Because I definitely need to win!”

When Aizou declared this, the boys in their classes applauded.

(Shibasaki-kun, I’m suddenly motivated! I don’t know why.)

“We can’t lose!” Hiyori said enthusiastically.

“What’s with the fuss with those first years?”

“I don’t know about those idols, but I’m rooting for that girl.”

“Will that frivolous guy be able to run properly?”

Third year seniors who were nearby were laughing and made sure they were heard on purpose.

Hiyori’s ears perked up.

(What~?!)

It was true they weren’t average people, but they were also making more effort than other people.

Hiyori even knew that, and she wanted to tell that to the seniors, but as a manager apprentice, she couldn’t take initiative to cause trouble.

But still, the two shouldn’t deal with that.

Suddenly, she looked next to her and saw Aizou and Yujiro staring scarily at the seniors. Their faces screamed “twist and crush!”

(Oh no, the forbidden faces!)

Hiyori jumped in front of them to try to hide their faces. They couldn’t expose their personalities so quickly.

However, the fans seemed to have noticed her.

“Hiyorin, what are you doing?”

“Uhh...preparing to run?”

Hiyori answered clumsily, and everyone in her class laughed.

“That’s so interesting!”

“You’re so tense!”

Hiyori laughed awkwardly with a quiet “ahaha...”

(This is also a manager apprentice’s job!)

Cheers rose from the seats as the performing band echoed in the clear sky. While they played, the baton was passed to the third runner in the mixed relay final.

After going around the track, the baton was passed to the fourth runner.

The top was a third year class, but when the baton was passed to Kotaro, he quickly overtook them.

The cheers suddenly became louder, and it was probably because the baton was passed to Yujiro.

“Come on Yujiro! Do your best!” The girls cheered from everywhere, despite the different grade classes.

Hiyori jumped to match the sound of her heart.

Yujiro and those third years had just turned and were apart by a small margin.

The third years seemed desperate not to be overtaken. Yujiro’s usual smile had disappeared by then.

“Someya-kun!” Hiyori called in a loud voice.

The seniors overtook him and passed their batons.

Yujiro reached out and handed the baton to Hiyori, his lips moving faintly with a breathy “I’m sorry...”

“Yes!” Hiyori received the baton.

Yujiro seemed troubled, but he always did his best when everyone expected it.

The same was true at the marathon event.

Hiyori was sweating, but she ran towards the goal.

That’s why...

“Hiyorin! Do your best!” Cheers flew from their class.

Hiyori overtook the seniors and ran at full power.

“Oh! That first year is amazing!” 

Around the last corner, Hiyori saw Hina hand the baton to Shibaken.

“I’m off!”

Aizou reached out and called for her.

Hiyori passed him the baton, and Aizou ran forward, practically chasing Shibaken.

Hiyori’s legs gave out, tired. She raised her head as the cheers doubled. Aizou passed around the corner with momentum and was approaching Shibaken.

Hiyori stands up in a hurry and moves towards the center of the race where the other relay members gathered and cheered.

“Do your best!” Everyone was cheering.

Aizou caught up with Shibaken before they reached the goal.

Aizou cut the goal tape with about half of his body first. He held his fists up and grinned, as if he was cheering.

Shibaken, who had lost by a small margin, breathed heavily and held a hand at his chest.

(That senior was also fast...)

Hiyori was a little surprised watching him.

Aizou, who was being surrounded by the relay members, had a happy face. He did complain when one person ruffled his hair.

Near him, Yujiro had his hands on his hips, staring down.

He looked unusually tired.

(Both of them always try their best.)

It made Hiyori happy.

“All relay participants gather in front of the goal.”

When the broadcast came, Aizou and Yujrio started walking.

“Huh...that was hard...” Aizou grabbed the collar of his shirt and shook it from the heat.

The three of them suddenly looked at each other and smiled before giving each other a high five.

At that moment, the girls stared at them. “What?”

(I’m done for!)

Hiyori lowered her hands.

Aizou and Yujiro moved away, both appearing awkward.

“Why are those three..?”

(Goodbye, my peaceful school life..!)

Hiyori ran off, hoping to avoid the fans.

“I want a high five too!”

Girls moved past Hiyori and ran towards Aizou and Yujiro.

The two had to give high fives one after another, both with slight smiles on their faces. Other girls who were watching from the seats also ran over.

It seemed everyone was trying to time it right.

Thanks to that, Hiyori was forgotten.

(Somehow...I was saved!)

Hiyori left, her hand on her chest. Next to her, Shibaken passed by, chasing after some girls.

“Sorry I lost to some cheeky first year!”

“Fool...”

That was all she heard from that.

_

“From now on, we will hold a closing ceremony. Sports festival committee members, please gather at the front.”

When Hiyori heard this, she tried to move, but was spoken to. “May I have a moment?”

Hiyori looked back and saw a tall boy with glasses standing there with a smile on his face.

He was a second year senior who was often with Kotaro. He was a member of the newspaper club, as that was attached to his jersey.

“Yes!” Hiyori nervously replied.

“I’m Yamamoto Koudai from the newspaper club. Can I have an interview?” He had a pen and a notebook.

“An interview..?”

“Yeah, congratulations on winning the relay. It was amazing, as expected of Setoguchi-san’s junior.”

“Thank you! I respect Setoguchi-senpai very much! I adore her!” Hiyori turned red and straightened up.

“Can you tell me what you thought of the festival?”

“It was fun!”

“Well...can I ask you for more details?”

“It was really, really fun!”

Hiyori couldn’t think of how else to answer, but she answered energetically.

Koudai’s expression softened a little. “I’m glad, then.”

“Yes!” Hiyori replied with a laugh.

“Thank you for your time. This will be in tomorrow’s extra, so please take a look.” Koudai took a photo and then left.

He seemed to be going to interview Aizou and Yujiro.

There were still girls lining up in a very long line in front of the two, wanting to give them a high five. Both of them had tired smiles.

While watching them, Hiyori laughed a little.

“They were a little cool when they got serious...”

[shinaus]

Tamaki and Shinso with artist s/o? 🥺 Like they both on hero course but they love to draw sometimes

A/N: this is SO CUTE!!!! anon you coming in with concepts i be writing MAD fluff on, thank you!!!

artist s/o: tamaki amajiki and hitoshi shinso

tamaki amajiki

my sweet baby boy

i think if you’re in the hero course while having a hobby like creating art he would admire you for sure

bring mirio with him if he wants to talk to you, compliment you etc

as much as he is an observant person, he won’t realise how seriously you take your art until you start dating

before asking you out, he had realised how much he enjoyed being in your company

being the quiet and shy type himself, environments that match his personality have him the most at ease

one day he was studying while in your company and you were working on a drawing

he just felt very relaxed

can’t really help but look over at you a lot

you end up catching on and he gets so embarrassed

blushes a lot around you in fact

but it’s cute

couldn’t have said yes faster when you asked him out

he would have done it himself but he was building up the courage 

:(

baby

okay so

i think drawing and painting are his favourite things to watch you do

he’ll sit fairly close but obviously make sure you have enough work space

compliment how you do certain things or generally just tell you how talented you are

once you sat between his legs as you were deep in concentration with your sketchbook and he loved it

had his head on your shoulder and arms around you as you watched

it also meant he could be more affectionate since your attention was averted

so expect small little kisses on your shoulder or in your hair while you work

he’s just a very sweet boy

always makes sure you take breaks 

would never want you to strain yourself too hard

oh man if you ever drew anything of him

it’s OVER

one day you would leave his room and he’d notice you left your sketchbook on his desk

looking down at the open page his face would go beet red

little sketches were all over the page of some of his features

another page would be a mock up of his hero costume or any ideas you have for new support items from him

expect the biggest hug from him once you see him again

and a whole lot of thank yous

knowing you admire him enough to draw him gives him so much confidence

also imagine him trying to return the favour and draw you

but it isn’t as good as you drew him and he gets all embarrassed about it

he did try and you love him for it

he’s just a shy baby

hitoshi shinso

i feel like i don’t even have to say it

shinso would live for the fact you’re an artist

he’d be so sweet and supportive of what you do, admiring greatly how you can work so hard both with your hobby and on your dream of becoming a hero

for someone who spends so much time studying and trying to better himself, he’s almost a little jealous you can spend your free time in such a way

but it entices him

inclines him almost to want to learn more about you

one day you had approached him first, complimenting him on his quirk use in the task you’d been giving

it flusters him no doubt, his face going a little red at the praise

but he says the same back to you, also about your hero costume since he’d seen you draw a mock up during lunch one day

which flusters you, unaware anyone had taken any particular interest in your art

though he most certainly had

compared to tamaki, i feel like things would happen a lot more naturally with shinso

once the two of you get to talking more, you end up hanging out

it’s almost always in one of your rooms, him still needing to find the time to study after all

but it’ll be the most comfortable the two of you have ever felt

the two of you usually sit against the wall of whoever’s bed, you drawing some things in your sketchbook and him going over his notes

he’ll always be sure to check on you though

and ask questions about your drawings

he always shows great interest in what you do

will sometimes catch himself staring at you while you work

thinks the face you make when you concentrate too

also hear me out

once he figures out what your artstyle is or any artists you particualrly like

he’d take you to a gallery

it’d be like an unofficial date type of thing

since he does want to and has ended up liking you quite a bit

as you’re going through exhibits together he’ll hold your hand or wrap his arm around your shoulders

which you obviously don’t mind

he’d try and learn a lot in hopes of impressing you

the sweet boy

would probably be shy about letting you draw him, but melts when he sees any random sketches you’ve done of him when he’s not around

once there was a page that had a drawing of his mask in so much detail

he was impressed

also one of his bike that he thought was just... too cute

would support you every way he could if you ever wanted to do something with your art

if you ever gift him anything he’d fully frame it and hang it over his bed

what a romantic 

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 6

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 6

Chapter Summary: More of a filler chapter, not much Henry, I’m sorry.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, pregnancy, poor self image, bad coping mechanisms, low self esteem.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5}

"I already told you, Faye! I don't want anything to do with this!"

"So because I want to keep my babies, you're leaving me? Is that what you're trying to tell me, David?"

"Yes! Shit, I knew you were dumb, but seriously!"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf too, whore? How do you even know I'm the one that knocked you up? You've slept with just about every guy in town!"

"Get the fuck out."

"Don't come crying to me later! You're nothing without me! No one is ever going to want you. Especially once you have kids. Who the hell wants used goods? Have fun living a life of regret!"

Faye jerked awake, her head spinning as she tried to catch her bearings. Did David really leave her just like that? Sure he wasn't the greatest, but he had never lashed out like that before. At least not where anyone else could witness it.

No. David's gone. He has been gone for almost four years now. New life. Starting over. It's all in the past now.

Have to get the baby up before the sitter comes. Work is coming up soon. Life goes on.

"Briar, what are you doing on the floor?" Faye chuckled, crouching down next to her daughter, curled up on her pillow by her bed.

"I'm a puppy." Briar yawned in explanation, holding her arms up to be lifted, promptly licking her mother's cheek as soon as she was up.

"Briar, we talked about licking people."

"I'm not Briar, I'm puppy."

"Ok then, puppy, no licking people. Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"Puppy food."

"Cereal it is."

Feed the toddler, quick shower, get dressed, throw her hair up away from her face, wait for the baby sitter, hugs and kisses goodbye, then off to work. The usual routine she had settled herself into.

Feed the baby, because she's hungry and she comes first.

Shower, because she probably has some sort of mystery goo on her from the toddler.

Get dressed, avoid the mirror.  No one wants to be reminded of how much they've changed. The softness she wasn't used to around her lower stomach, hips and thighs. Her breasts no longer as perky as they used to be. The stretchmarks competing with her tattoo's for attention.

Then, the hardest part of the day. "Ok, Briar, Mrs. Anderson is here. Mommy has to go to work. I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy." Briar responded, hugging her mother tight and kissing her cheek before she was sat back down.

"Have a nice day, Miss Warren."

"I hope she's not too much to handle."

"Never is."

Some days, Faye likes to pretend she's ok. Like she has a handle on things. Like she knows what she's doing and not just blindly stumbling through her life while trying to do right by her daughter.

Other days, she would absently push her sleeves up and her eye would catch on the black lines decorating her forearm, just below her elbow. Some days she's reminded that life is a bitch, and you can't always get what you want. On those days she tried to stay out of her own head, though that rarely worked.

She could slap on a smile with the best of them, but she could never force it to reach her eyes. Her face always remained an open book, free for anyone to read. The past creeps up on you. There's nothing you can do to stop it some days. On a bad day, the ghosts of the past will haunt your mind, echoing the worst days of your life into the void of your shattered heart.

"No one is ever going to want you!"

"You're nothing without me!"

"Who wants used goods?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Warren. There was nothing we could do."

Over and over on a seemingly never ending loop, reminding her of the darkest times in her life.

Why would anyone want her? She's not the same hot twenty six year old she used to be. She was soft. She was saggy. She would never be as attractive as she used to be. Anyone in their right mind would turn around and run once they realized how much she had let herself go.

Days like today were best spent keeping people at a distance. Tell them some story about being tired. Avoid anyone that is going to call her out on her obvious lie. Therein lies the problem with dying your hair obnoxious colors. Among a sea of blonde and brunette, powder blue tends to stick out and make it almost impossible to vanish.

Lie your way out of it. Survive another day. Tomorrow might not be better, but at least it won't be the same.

"Mommy, you're back!" The sweetest sound she could hear all day.

"I always come back, my little love." Faye assured, kissing her daughter's head.

Need to care for the baby. She comes first. She deserves the world. Play time. Dinner time. Bath time. Story time. Bed time. The same after work routine she had established months ago when she decided to drop everything and run.

Her daughter thought the world of her. She would do anything to see her smile. She would wear the stupid costume. She would pretend to be a horsey. She would let her daughter use her as a jungle gym. She would make the same dinner again for the third night in a row for her.  So what if she soaked the bathroom floor during bath time? She was a mermaid, and she wanted to show off her tail. Story time, always an adventure with her imaginative little girl. What world would they find themselves in today? Dinosaurs? Princesses? Mythology? A rhyming book?

Ah, yes of course. Her current favorite, the book about the dinosaur cleaning his room. She was a girl obsessed with dinosaurs at the moment.

"Mommy, where's my Papa?" Briar asked, staring intently down at the page depicting a mother and father watching the dinosaur throw away paper scraps.

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart. He wasn't a nice man." Faye explained, resting her cheek on her daughter's head.

"Can I have a new Papa?"

"Maybe someday, sweetheart."

"Can Spider-man be my new Papa?"

"Why do you want Spider-man to be your new Papa?"

"He's my boyfriend!"

"That's not how it works, silly. If he's your boyfriend, he can't also be by boyfriend! Pick another hero!"

"Batman!"

"Well, he is rich." Faye mused, Briar giggling happily. "Now it's time for bed, my love."

"Ok, Mommy. I love you!"

"I love you too, Briar." Faye whispered, kissing her forehead. The nightlight was switched on and the door was left cracked open, just in case. Now for her seldom used free time.

Should she sketch some more? Finish that painting she started forever ago? Ever since she started a "real" job, her art had fallen by the wayside. She was too drained to do much after work and caring of her daughter.

Maybe some drawing will lift her spirits and keep the nightmares at bay tonight. But what to draw? Not in the mood for still life. Brain too fried for something straight from her imagination. Her usual model was sleeping, and her last few self portraits had been a serious blow to her ego. She just drew what she saw in the mirror. Then, when she was finished, she decided she should have worn more clothing before she drew herself. What was supposed to boost her confidence and empower her as a woman instead left her wondering when exactly she developed that roll when sitting in that position.

"Fuck it. I'm drawing a moose." Faye grumbled to herself, turning the page from her self portrait to a blank sheet. Half an hour later when she was trying to remember what a moose's antlers looked like, she finally picked up her phone. Seven unread messages? That seems like a lot. When was the last time she looked at her phone? Oh yeah, when she got home, five hours ago.

All from one person. So she wasn't ignoring everyone at least. Seven messages, all from Henry. Shit. That's not good.

Are you ok?

You seemed off on set today

You didn't even talk to me

Did you at least make it home alright?

Can you send me a sign of life?

I'm sorry if I upset you or something. Can you please talk to me? I'm genuinely worried.

Please?

Well, fuck. Here she was playing unicorn apocalypse with her daughter, and this poor guy was worrying himself to death.

Sorry, I was drawing a moose

Perfect way of saying "I wasn't ignoring you" while also avoiding his persistent questions about her wellbeing. The good old 'drawing a moose' excuse. Works every time.

I think your moose aged me by ten years. Are you ok?

Just had a bad day

Anything I can do to help?

Squeeze me until I stop struggling and my spine snaps

That's called 'murder' Miss Warren

I knew there was a name for it

Is there anything I can do for you that involves less prison?

Nah, if you're not going to take me out, then I'm not interested

I'm not going to take you out by murder. I will take you out on a date.

Faye froze, staring at her phone. He was just playing around, like he always did. No way he was serious. Henry liked to flirt, and she wasn't about to throw herself at him over a joke. She had more dignity than that. So how does she respond? She can't just ignore him, and taking forever to respond is going to give the impression that she was freaking out over what he said.

She was completely freaking out over what he had said, but he didn't need to know that. Was he just looking to get laid or something? Probably. He had gotten pretty close the last time he had been over. There's a difference between dating and screwing, though. He was probably just looking for someone to fuck while waiting for a woman worth his time to come along. Faye was broken out of her thoughts by her phone going off again, alerting her to a new message. Didn't he know she was busy having an existential crisis?

If you're free on Sunday you can come over and show me that moose your working on

*you're

Smart ass

Sunday?

I'll have to see if Mrs. Anderson can watch Briar

Bring her along. She keeps asking me about Kal

Pretty on brand for her

Sunday?

Sunday.

Sunday. What to wear on Sunday? He was probably looking for a little something something for his time, so something slutty? She got rid of all her slutty clothes after she had Briar in a fit of self hatred toward her new mom bod, so that was out. Besides, he wouldn't have invited Briar over too if he was looking to get laid.

So what does one wear on a casual 'date' these days? She had until Sunday to figure that out.

Tag List:  @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny

[leapyearkisses]

Carriage Shenanigans - (m/m) Eliseo/Padgett

I FORGOT ONE

MESS (like seriously, it’s GROSS) and sneezing on very willing participant, NSFW, semi-public - They fuck in a carriage.

No promises, but I might write another story with Eliseo sick since I know a few people have wanted that.

---

The countryside south of Harwichport was coloring with the first blush of summer.  Horses and cattle grazed in pastures alongside the road. Plants had unfurled from their sheltering against the frost and now reached curiously through fences toward the sun.  Early flowers waved in a breeze that had not quite shed the spring cold.  Eliseo glanced away from the carriage window to the seat across from him.  His lover, Padgett, was leaning against the wall, head pillowed against a rolled jacket.  He also hadn’t quite shed his spring cold, and he’d been snoring gently since falling asleep an hour ago.

He seemed  to wake now. After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked back at Eliseo.  In the dim light of the carriage, his eyes were a soft forest green.  He smiled.  “Hey,” he murmured.  “Bored?”

Eliseo put aside his novel after slipping a silk ribbon into place as a bookmark.  “Maybe a little.  The farms all look alike out in this part of the county.”  Picturesque stone cottages with wooden additions for growing families, red barns that needed a summer coat of paint, fields tilled for wheat or oats, scarecrows in plaid.  “Bellecourt should be turned out when we get there tomorrow, though.  Father sent Grimsley and the other servants ahead.”

“Will you have to work?”

Eliseo sighed with an edge of frustration.  “Maybe.  Marcello is having his prospective wife around at the beginning of the season.  He’s asked for me to get the place into shape for entertaining her family.  He’s far too busy to do it himself, of course.  Playing with his new cutter down on the Niamh.  I think he means to race it.”  He leaned his cheek on his palm.  “The sketch he sent me made it look like a potato with sails, but I expect it’s prettier in person.”

Padgett sniffed.  “Not very responsible of him.”  His voice was a bit thick with congestion, but his tone was good-natured.  Eliseo tried not to stare at Padgett’s red nose, but he wasn’t sure whether he was successful.  

“Not particularly.  But that’s Marcello for you.”

Padgett sat up and laid his jacket on the seat beside him.  “What happens if you can’t make those preparations?”  He paused for a moment, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.  “Anythih- hh– anything bad?  Hahktsch!”

“Huh?”  Eliseo licked his lips.  “Ah, he’d probably have to come down a few days earlier…”

Padgett sneezed again, a wet sound not well muffled by the cloth.  “Haptschiu!”  Without blowing his nose, he said, “You couldn’t work if you were sick. I wouldn’t let you.”

A thrill went through Eliseo from his heart to his groin, but he started to shake his head.  “Padgett.”

“Come here, Eli.”  Padgett held out a hand, putting the handkerchief to the side. “You’re hardly ever sick.  You might not even catch it.”  He smiled slyly.  “And you’ve been so good to me the past few days.  You must have been struggling.”

“For the love of God.”  Eliseo could feel himself blushing scarlet… and his trousers felt awfully tight all of a sudden.  “You are a scoundrel and a menace.”  He lowered his voice.  “What exactly do you mean to do in a carriage, Padgett?”  

“Whatever you’ll let me,” Padgett replied, matching his volume to Eliseo’s.  It came out sultry, heightened by the roughness of his voice.  Still, seeing that Eliseo was making no move to get up, Padgett braced a hand on the gently swaying carriage wall and inserted himself onto the bench seat beside his lover.  Eliseo made a token protest, but that was all.  When Padgett took his hands and laced their fingers, Eliseo found himself mute, gaze fixed on the wetness gathered at Padgett’s nostrils.

“We have to be quiet,” he said, finally, just to say something.

Indulgent, Padgett nodded.  “Of course, my Lord; quiet as church mice.  Now, will you kiss me?”

Their mouths met in a bloom of heat.  Padgett pressed their tongues together, treasured Eliseo’s lips, nipped until Eliseo deepened the kiss.  Between breaths, he chased Padgett’s mouth with his own, caught up, until he was practically in Padgett’s lap.  Padgett ran his hands down Eliseo’s back, reassuring, encouraging, until he could slip them up under the edge of Eliseo’s waistcoat and worry his shirttails from his waistband like an excited dog with an errant pillow.

Eliseo laid a hand alongside Padgett’s jaw, slipped his fingers into the unruly curls at Padgett’s nape, and kissed his nose.  He wasn’t shy; he drew his tongue over Padgett’s septum, tasted salt, pressed his lips to gently crush a nostril closed.  He shut his eyes in pleasure.  When Padgett’s breath hitched moments later, Eliseo drew back, flushed and loose, resting his thumb at the corner of Padgett’s lips.  “I want you to sneeze on me,” he said, almost inaudible over the carriage wheels but straightforward and plainly desirous.

Padgett smiled.  Eliseo was ever beautiful to him, but no more so than when he was free with himself.  “Hh- hh- I will, Eli.  Your neck?”  He could feel his nostrils flaring and knew his nose was running by the slick feeling on his lip and Eliseo’s soft moan both.  

“No,” Eliseo said.  He tilted his face and kissed Padgett again.  He didn’t move far after.

Padgett let his eyes slip closed and gave over to the itch in his nose.  It was deep-seated, caught in his sinuses, radiating outward in scratchy hints of irritation.  He had been at its mercy all of the previous day, so much so that Eliseo had postponed their trip, although probably equally for his own peace of mind as Padgett’s health.  He had no reservations now, waiting for Padgett to give in, face upturned.

“Hh- hah- hahktschiu!”  Padgett ducked forward, overcome in a rush.  Mess ran down over his chin; its evacuation filled him with a momentary ease, a relief from the thick prison of congestion.  Eliseo moaned and pressed closer.  His face was lightly dusted with droplets and now his mouth was on Padgett’s again.  Sighing into the kiss, skin heated, Eliseo had given up any pretense of reluctance.  He rocked his hips, rubbed his clothed erection against Padgett’s thigh.  His tongue darted out again and he started to lave Padgett’s lip and streaming nose.

Padgett groaned and moved to undo Eliseo’s fly before his smallclothes became a casualty.  He remembered the first time they did this and how shy Eliseo had been then, although he’d had even less control over his body’s actions.  “I love you so much,” Padgett said, trading kisses, letting Eliseo have him.  “You’ll make me hih- make me sn- nnh– sneeze again, love.”

“Ah, please,” Eliseo moaned, and he pressed his cock into Padgett’s palm, overeager.  “You ruinous-  you ruin me.”

“Hh-hold still, easy,” Padgett murmured, nuzzling against Eliseo’s chin, then his cheek.  The itch had come back and he trembled with it, chest working fitfully.  “Hh- hah- hhih-”  He drew back again, felt Eliseo tense in his lap.  “Hakschtcht!  Huh- huhktschiuh!”  Again, the relief, a hot tension through his abdomen. He felt Eliseo’s thighs close around his own, felt Eliseo’s cock throb in his palm.  He closed his fingers around it, started to stroke.  He was almost overwhelmed with an urge to take down Eliseo’s trousers and bury himself between those thighs but- but the carriage bumped over a rut in the road and he was shaken unfortunately back to the reality of where they were.

It didn’t seem to bother Eliseo anymore.  He rocked into the circle of Padgett’s fingers, his own precome serving to slick the way, raining kisses over Padgett’s face. “When we get to the hotel,” he said, half-gasping, “ I want you to sneeze on my cock.”  He moaned.  “Fuck, fuck-”

“God, Eli, I will,” Padgett groaned.  He increased his pace.  “Come for me, baby, come on.”  

It didn’t take long.  Never a special fan of sport, Eliseo was nonetheless more than fit for his lover.  He keened with his release, tucking his face into Padgett’s shoulder to muffle his voice.  Whether from temporary deafness or inviolable decorum, the coachman kept on without an inquiry.  Padgett enfolded Eliseo into a tight embrace and rocked him gently through his orgasm, his own erection trapped in his breeches still. He had no trouble encouraging Eliseo to see to it when the latter had calmed.

They arrived at the hotel by 7 PM.  The coachman opened the door to find both of his patrons looking as put-together as they had when they left.  If they blushed slightly to see him, he ignored that.  He was, and always would be, a consummate professional.

[miraculousandbts]

Jungkook | Best Fansign Ever

Summary: You decide to surprise your boyfriend by going to his Fansign.

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None

You were ready. Wallet? Check. Phone? Check. Purse? Check. Album? Check. Fansign ticket? Check. You were being a little too serious about this.

No, you weren't some fan who finally got the chance to go to a Fansign. You were dating one of the boys. Who? The youngest of them. It all started two years ago when you bumped into a stranger on the road. It weird enough that he was wearing a full-sleeved shirt on such a hot day, but on top of that, he had a mask, a pair of sunglasses, and a bucket hat. And a few tufts of blue hair were visible.

'Blue hair? Weird. He must be a die-heart fan of k-pop...or he just really wanted to dye his hair? Why do I care anyway? People can do what they want to.' you thought, as you bent down to pick up the papers which had fallen down from your hand. You had been sitting in a café where you had suddenly gotten an idea for a new comic, and you just had to scribble it down— more like roughly draw it down— on the small pieces of paper you carried around with you for such occasions.

He bent down as the same time as you with the same intentions as you, and picked up the other papers. "You drew these?" He just couldn't help asking, after seeing your rough sketches. They were pretty as it is, and he could imagine how beautiful they would be with touch ups.

"Uh, yeah." You awkwardly replied. "These are good." He didn't know what else to say. "Thank you." You gave him a grin. "I'll just go."

He moved past you, but something pulled you both back. You glanced at your wrist, and saw that a thread from his shirt was stuck in your bracelet. "Oh, sorry." You apologised and proceeded to try to take the thread out. Keyword: tried. He came closer so it would be easy, but you just couldn't figure out what to do. You didn't notice him move his hand to help you.

Instead, you thought how it was a thread, so you could just snap it. Without thinking twice, you wrapped your finger around the length of the thread and broke it. And that's when you noticed his hand mid air, frozen. He clearly wasn't expecting you to do so, that much you could tell, but because his whole face was covered up, you couldn't see his expression.

It took him a couple of seconds to register what happened. Then he gently placed his fingers on your bracelet and untangled the now cut-off thread from it, throwing it away after he was done.

"Thanks...?" You trailed off, indicating to him that you wanted to know his name. Without thinking, he said, "Jeon Jungkook." And then he proceeded to freak out. "No, no, no. Jung Jungkook, Jung Jungkook. Shit, hyung will kill me." He muttered the last part under his breath.

All of this was enough for you to figure out he was Jungkook from BTS. You wouldn't call yourself a die-heart fan, but you liked their music, and respected them a lot. He let out a noise sounding similar to 'nnnng' (I'm not good with describing noises...), and flattened his bucket hat against the sides of his face in frustration. At this point, he could only hope you weren't a fan or a netizen who would be able to recognise him.

His very noisy way of showing his exasperation was attracting a lot of attention. You subtly glanced around, and made a decision. You grabbed his wrist unintentionally hard, and pulled him with you to your house which was a five minute walk away. All this time, he kept following you without showing any signs of resisting. You only left his hand as you searched for your keys in your bag, and pulled him in after you opened the door.

After making sure the door was securely locked, you threw yourself on the sofa. Your one bedroom apartment wasn't anything extravagant, but it was yours. It was cozy, pretty, warm in winters, and cool in summer. And you had a balcony, as an added bonus. You glanced at the frozen boy still standing near the door, and patted the space next to you, where he timidly came and sat down.

"You can take off all this stuff now. I can only imagine how much you're sweating." You moved your arm gesturing to his head. He cautiously took off the mask, the sunglasses, and the hat. "I don't bite. Chill." You raised an amused eyebrow in his direction when you saw how hesitant he was.

"S-sorry. Why did you bring me here?"

"Well, you were freaking out cuz you told me your real name, and it was noisy enough to attract attention. Now, we wouldn't want paparazzi to trample either of us, would we?

"No." He silently agreed. "Thank you." He added as an afterthought. "It's okay. Make yourself at home. You hungry?" You finally got motivation enough to get up and do something. He nodded while pink dusted his cheeks.

'Adorable' was the only thing you could think in that moment. You changed and made both of you a little snack. To repay your kindness, he gave you his number and left. And well, the rest of it is history.

*****

You reached the event venue, and went in. It was easy for you to mingle in the crowd; you had to make sure you were not visible to Jungkook.

Sitting on the farthest chair from the main table as possible, you kept your head low, and glanced up every once in a while. Jungkook was the first person sitting there, which coincidentally just helped your plan. "Hey, you're y/n, right?" You turned your head towards the origin of the sound.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm y/n."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to surprise Kookie. He came back from the tour, but didn't go to Seoul, so I just thought I'd come here."

"Aw, that's so sweet of you!"

You lightly chuckled at her awing. You both made small talk while your chance came. She went ahead of you after some time of chatting.

You got up, still making sure not a single boy could see you. It was easy, considering there were so many fans there. You saw the girl you were talking to earlier come your way and raised your eyebrows. She silently came and stood in front of you, showing you her back, muttering one word. "Cover." You could practically hear the wink in her voice.

You smiled to yourself and whispered a grateful thanks.

It was finally your turn. When you sat down in front of Jungkook, he was looking down reading something, smiling at the book, while in his hand he held a cute rabbit plushie. 'Of course they'd give Kookie a bunny plushie.' you subconsciously smiled at the thought.

He looked up, and his eyes widened, while his jaw dropped. He was definitely not expecting that. Seriously.

"Hello, Jungkook oppa."

His expression went from shocked to deadpan in less than a fraction of a second. "Seriously? We see each other for the first time in months and that's what you call me?" He raised his eyebrows. "Why are you getting mad at me, oppa," you pouted. "I just wanted to get this album I bought some time ago signed."

He sighed and played along. He knew you, inside out. Which meant he also knew that you wouldn't acknowledge him as your boyfriend as long as he didn't play along. He took the album and smiled a small smile while signing it. He had missed you. You and your super annoying but kinda cute antics. He finished signing it, and passed it to Taehyung and then leaned forward a little.

"So, miss y/n, how have you been?" He did his cute lil head tilt and almost melted your heart.

"I've been good, thanks bun bun."

You had never seen him smile so big. He got up and so did you, attracting almost everyone's attention. The boys and the fans started recognising you, and cheered as you both moved towards each other for a big tight hug. "I missed you." He sighed. "I missed you too, Kook."

You pecked his lips and heard the members making sounds of disgust, which, by the way, only made both of you grin harder. You looked towards the crowd and saw that girl again, grinning and giving you a thumbs up. She winked as you gave her a slight grateful nod.

The rest of your day was spent with him and the other boys, enjoying the warmth you got when you were with your boyfriend and your closest friends.

[imagine-nation20]

A Healer’s Kindness

Summary: “I realize that kindness is one of your best features, but seriously, that is a bit much.”

Requested By: Anon

Request: “I realize that kindness is one of your best features, but seriously, you go way overboard.” with Geralt of Rivia x reader please?

A/N: I ended up changing the sentence slightly so it fits more with the type of talking they do in the show. Hope you don’t mind! Also, slight warning, there are mentions of blood and wounds in this so, if your uncomfortable then just skip over this one.

~~~

You pulled the plant out of the ground by its roots, careful not to kill it and make it impossible to re-plant in the pot you brought with you. The red and white flower in your hands was rare, only growing high on the sheer cliffside near your house. A small, dangerous pathway, not entirely meant for humans was the only path, and the further up you made it to the flower, the harsher the winds became. It was dangerous just to get it, let alone take in back with you unharmed.

The wind blew, almost knocking you off the cliffside as you stood, plant in pot and in your hand. You caught yourself on a root sticking out from the dirt and rocks, sighing in relief when it held and you were easily able to pull yourself back upright.

“Hopefully I never have to come here again…” You mumbled, tucking the pot safely in your left arm. With your right hand now your only stabilizer, you began to shimmy back across the steep walkway, wary of every breeze that passed. 

Your foot slipped momentarily down the slope of the path, causing you to lose your balance, and grip tighter to the handhold of the cliff. Your fingers stung, digging into the rock and drawing a bit of blood. Your teeth clenched, but you forced yourself to bring your leg back up, using your now injured hand to pull yourself.

It’s a long way down, with a few more close calls, but eventually your feet meet solid ground and you release a sigh. The flower is unharmed beneath your arm, but you still had to be careful as you walked your way back to your cottage, as it was an unmarked path through woods rife with predatory animals and the occasional band of humans.

Because of the dangerous, rocky, and sheer terrain, you had opted for pants, a shirt, and a long jacket that reaches your knees. While this had been a great choice for the terrain, it wasn’t the best for the weather. The cold autumn air bit right through the pants, chilling your joints and making your movement slower.

It wasn’t a long walk back, but the cold stretched the time to seem like an eternity. When the cold stone of the cottage came into sight, you sighed. The thought of your warm fireplace sent a pleasant chill up your spin.

The blood smeared on the wall next to your door did not.

Your face hardened, as you reached for the dagger on your belt. You placed the potted plant on the stone wall surrounding your front garden, swinging open the already ajar gate. It squeaked and you cursed yourself for not buying the oil you had meant to get at the market a village over.

The door to the cottage was open as well, light from a lit fire spilling out. It shone against more blood smeared on the wooden door. Inside, the smell of rotten flesh and dirt permeated the air. You cringed, slowly stepping inside and holding your breath. The fire crackled, but the air was still cold enough to know that it had only just been lit. Your favorite chair, which you used to read often, was knocked over, the warm fur blanket heaped on the floor next to it. The shape of a man, large in stature, drew your attention.

He was sprawled at the base of your hearth, breath ragged. You recognized the white of his hair, even if it was caked in dirt and blood.

“Geralt!” I came out like a whisper, and you were already on your knees next to him, brushing the hair from his face and checking for wounds when he opened his eyes at your voice.

He looked unfocused, eyes roaming the room before landing on your. You barely paid attention to the look on his face, eyes drawn to the slash across his chest. It had cut clean through his armor, the flesh and blood around it darkened to a sickening black. It wasn’t often that your witcher was injured, and never as badly as this.

“This is the work of a poison,” You said, mostly to yourself. You glanced up to Geralt’s face, cupping his cheeks and ignoring the smears of black goo you left in your wake. “I need to know what did this, Geralt,”

“Manticore,” He grounded out, eyes scrunching in pain. You shushed him, earning a glare that you brushed off.

Placing his hand over his wound, you ordered him to keep as much pressure as he could while you searched for a cure. You had never dealt with manticore poison before, but you were sure you had seen something about it in your grandmother’s journal. Something about a remedy.

You scanned the pages, finally stumbling upon a familiar sketch of a manticore stinger, searching the paragraphs of information for a cure.

“Cut away all poisoned flesh, as the minute it blackens, it is dead…” The first paragraph instructed how to do this, but it was the second that caught your eye. An even more familiar sketch caught your eye, the words making you curse under your breath. “The only cure for manticore poison is the ground up petals of a rare flower that grows on a mountain in Temeria,” 

The red and white petals taunted you, but you didn’t give it a second thought. Rushing outside, your snatched the plant off the wall and brought it back in, beginning your work.

---

It was dark out when the witcher stirred, looking less pale than he had when you had first laid eyes on him. Not that it was much of a difference, as he was already naturally as pale as a ghost. His eyes had barely opened, falling back closed, and you were there, water and a bowl of soup in hand, easing him to sit up. The bandages around his torso were more of a placebo, only their to hide the salve from the flower that had long since begun to work.

While it was an incredibly fast healing agent, it also cured most poisons, and numbed the area it was applied. Many herbalists, healers, and medicine peddlers had come searching for it, but very few ever left with one.

Geralt groaned as you helped him sit up, the blanket resting across him falling to his waist. His armor and shirt were folded on a chair next to the bed, so you opted to sit on the edge of the straw mattress, grabbing the bowl and spooning some of the broth out of the bowl.

“Eat,” You urged, raising the spoon to the witcher’s mouth. “You lost a lot of blood, and you’ll need your strength. The salve I used is fast working, but it just amplifies your healing and poison resilience, meaning you need to eat or it will kill you through exhaustion.”

“What did you give me?” Geralt asked, taking the spoon and bowl from your hands. You sighed at his stubbornness, but didn’t fight him.

“A rare flower from the mountain range a few miles away,” You leveled him with a look. “It is the only known plant able to cure manticore poison, so consider yourself lucky that had gone to get one today.”

He rose a brow at you, taking another spoonful of soup. “I thought you grow your own?”

“Yes, but this one is only known to grow on the sheer cliffside of the mountain here. My grandmother showed it to me when I was little, and told me only to go up when I absolutely had to,” You sighed, taking the dirty bowl and rag you had left in the room to wipe the sweat from the witcher’s brow. “I was planning on planting it in the garden, but you needed it. I’ll have to go back up to get another when the winds die down once more.”

You stood to leave, planning on emptying the bowl. A hand on your wrist caught you, and you turned to see the witcher narrow his eyes at you. “Sheer cliffside?”

“Yes, barely have a foot wide, why?” You answered, already knowing what was coming.

“Why waste a flower that you could plant to grow more?” He grumbeld out.

You narrowed your eyes. “It wasn’t a waste. It saved your life.”

“I’m a witcher.”

“That doesn’t make you immortal,” You ground out, taking your arm from his grip as softly as you could. Geralt sighed, looking down at the floor a moment. You waited for him to say something, to scold you again.

“I realize that kindness is one of your best features, but seriously, that is a bit much.” He said, taking a step back. “Even for you.”

“I can just go and get another like I-”

“No.”

“Geralt!” You hissed, furrowing your brows, “I have to get another one. What if someone else needs one and I don’t have it. You got lucky today, but someone else may not.”

“I’ll do it.” He insisted, walking over to pick up his shirt and armor. You had mended the tear in the cloth, but the leather was not something you were able to help, leaving a giant gash down the center that had Geralt sighed in annoyance.

“You’re injured, and plus, I’m sure you still have a manticore to hunt. I’ll be fine.” He didn’t respond, only continued to gather his things. You gripped his arm, spinning him around. He didn’t fight, which you considered lucky for you, as you wouldn’t have been able to turn him if he had.

“I’ll get you two this time, as a payment,”

“They can’t be damaged,” You tried to reason as to why you had to go.

“I’ll be careful.” He stated simply, but you scoffed at him. If there was one thing you were absolutely sure about Geralt, it was that he was never careful.

“I will fit better along the path.”

“Hmm,” Was his only response this time. You were getting frustrated. Grasping at straws always seemed to be what you did when arguing with the man in front of you. After saving his life from a tikwi a while back, he often came to you for remedies and medicines when in the area. He had even given you a book on how to make the potions he used when fighting.

You stopped him with a hand to his chest as he moved to leave the room. His head tilted down, staring at you. “Please, be careful. The winds are strong up there, and the path crumbles in places.”

You hadn't noticed the deep crease in your brow until Geralt was leaning down and kissing you forehead, following it with a thumb to smooth away the worry.

“I’ll be back soon.”

[youidiotprince]

You want to draw me?

“Will you teach me how to draw?” Robbe blurted to Sander as they laid in Sander’s bed, facing each other. Robbe was looking over Sander’s shoulder at the wall behind him, which was a collage of photographs and sketches, some of Robbe alone, some with the two of them together. It was just like that studio at his college, but more intimate, somehow. These were the things he chose to look at every night as he fell asleep.

Sander snorted, teasing, “I can try, but after that heart you drew the other day . . .” As he trailed off, he pursed his lips and widened his eyes, looking off to the side in his usual judging face, and Robbe scoffed in mock offensive.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said with a laugh, covering as much of Sander’s face with his hand as he could. As Sander moved Robbe’s hand from his face to his chest, Robbe defended, “I wrote our initials too big and then didn’t have a choice. Plus, that metal was hard to write on and you know that.”

“I know,” Sander said softly, voice warm as he took in Robbe’s playful smile. He wanted to keep teasing him, but instead he asked, “What do you want to draw?”

Robbe looked from Sander’s face down to their hands now entwined against Sander’s chest. “You,” he mumbled, a little sheepish. Hesitantly, he skimmed his gaze back up to Sander’s face, which was flushed pink around his beaming grin.

“You want to draw me?”

Robbe shrugged one shoulder and nodded his head at the same time. “You have all these sketches of me and of us and I don’t have anything of you. I want to be able to draw you so I can keep you with me always.” As soon as the words left his lips, Robbe blushed at what he had just said and turned to hide his face in his pillow.

“Robbe,” Sander exhaled, reaching out to run his fingers through Robbe’s hair. He loved when Robbe expressed his feelings only to get shy about them afterwards. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, Sander got a fluttery feeling in his stomach, and he just wanted to engulf Robbe in his arms and kiss him silly. Slowly, Robbe turned his face back to Sander’s, and Sander let his hand rest on the side of Robbe’s neck, fingertips still laced in Robbe’s hair and thumb caressing his cheek. “Of course I’ll teach you.”

Robbe’s face split open with a smile, the deeps lines carved into his cheeks on either side of his smile coming out in full force. He sat up on his elbow and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Sander’s from slightly above him. He tried to deepen the kiss, shifting his weight so that he hovered over top of him, but Sander put a hand on his chest, pushing him away. With a smirk, he asked, “Do you want to learn or not?” Robbe rolled his eyes but nodded his head eagerly.

Sander gently pushed Robbe off of him and climbed off the bed. He walked over to his desk, where Robbe assumed he did most of his drawing, and grabbed two sketchpads and two pencils. When he came back to the bed, he sat across from Robbe, facing him, legs criss-crossed. “Here you go.” As he handed the materials to Robbe, he pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. Robbe mirrored Sander’s position exactly, down to the smallest detail, like how Sander was holding his pencil. Sander couldn’t keep himself from smiling at how seriously Robbe was taking this. He quickly nudged him with his foot because he couldn’t resist; he just wanted to touch him. Robbe was rubbing off on him. At that, Robbe scooched closer on the bed so that they were knee-to-knee, physically connected in some way.

“Okay, before you start, you should get an understanding of your subject. What are the unique aspects of their face, the things that make their face different from any other?” Robbe looked back at Sander blankly, so he continued, “Like, for you, it’d be things like your doe eyes, your brow, your faint freckles across your nose, and if I was drawing you smiling, your adorable smile lines.” Robbe blushed and smiled because he couldn’t help it, with Sander paying such close attention to him. “Yeah, exactly, those ones,” Sander teased as Robbe smiled even bigger.

“Stop,” Robbe said softly, flustered, lifting his sketchpad to lightly bop Sander’s head with it. Sander laughed and looked down at his own sketchpad, ready to start sketching the outline of Robbe’s face.

“Okay, so for you, it’d be like, how one of your eyes is a little bit smaller than the other, and that mole on your cheek, and . . .” Robbe trailed off, studying Sander’s face, in deep thought. It was Sander’s turn to blush under such careful, loving scrutiny from Robbe.

“You don’t have to say it out loud,” Sander interjected, growing just as flustered as Robbe was. He wanted to regain his composure, be the smooth, confident guy in the leather jacket, in control, teasing Robbe, but Robbe had a way of making him go so soft and blushy and rattled sometimes.

“Okay,” Robbe replied with a self-conscious smile, but he sat up a little straighter, proud that he had thrown Sander off of his game for a second.

They worked in almost silence, aside from when Sander would briefly describe the next step of the process, outlining the face, placing guides, trying to match proportions. He tried to walk Robbe through the process as he would with any other beginner, but he kept getting lost in his own sketch of Robbe. He didn’t always describe all of the steps out loud, too far gone in his own peace.

When Sander finally finished his sketch, he asked Robbe to see his. “Oh no,” Robbe mumbled, looking at his own drawing in its entirety for the first time since they started, taking it all in for what it was. An unfortunate, disproportionate rendering of someone who looked vaguely like Sander if you squinted your eyes really tight and tilted your head a little bit.

“Let me see,” Sander demanded, leaning his weight forward to try to look at the sketchpad in Robbe’s lap. Robbe quickly pulled the pad to his chest and looked at Sander with big, embarrassed eyes. “Come on, Robbe, it’s your first attempt. It isn’t supposed to be good. Let me see.”

Slowly, sheepishly, Robbe flipped his sketchpad around. A laugh burst from Sander’s lips, as much as he told himself he wouldn’t laugh no matter what. “Robbe,” Sander said, half in shock, half in adoration.

Robbe dropped the sketchpad to the side and flopped back against the bed, covering his face in embarrassment as he giggled uncontrollably at his own attempt. Sander couldn’t stop laughing either, and he crawled up the bed to lay next to Robbe and let his giggles mix with Robbe’s. Robbe turned into Sander, burying his head in Sander’s chest as he continued to laugh.

Eventually, as his own laughter died out, Sander pulled away, and, peeling Robbe’s hands away from his face, said, “You might need a few more lessons.”

“Or I’m just hopeless.”

“Robbe, you are the least hopeless person I’ve ever met,” Sander replied, just to be cheesy, but once he said, he realized how much he meant it. Looking down at Robbe adoringly, he started to pepper his face in kisses until Robbe was giggling again and pushing at Sander’s chest weakly. “Also, I’m keeping this,” Sander said as he pulled away, reaching behind him to grab the sketchpad.

“Absolutely not,” Robbe said, actual worry filling his eyes.

“Yes.”

“No,” Robbe replied, exasperated.

As Sander answered with another “yes,” he closed the space between them and gave Robbe a kiss to shut him up. Robbe slowly deepened the kiss, running one hand through Sander’s hair and pulling his face even closer to his. He wrapped his other arm around Sander’s back, pressing their bodies together, inch for inch. Just as Sander started to lose himself in the kiss, slipping his free hand under Robbe’s shirt to feel his warm bare skin, Robbe snatched the drawing from Sander’s other hand, breaking from the kiss to roll off the bed and run to the other side of the room.

“You’re not keeping this, Sander,” Robbe insisted, already laughing, feeling triumphant but knowing his triumph wouldn’t last for long.

“Oh, yes I am,” Sander replied, a mischievous grin breaking out across his face as he climbed out of bed and started to stalk towards Robbe. Robbe knew he didn’t stand a chance.

[kayteewritessteve]

Beautifully Unfinished - 5/8

Description: One foolish outburst, one moment of weakness at the worst possible time, and everything goes up in smoke. Who knew finally voicing your true, deep-rooted feelings, would lead to the complete destruction of your most cherished friendship?

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 4,580 ish.

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Curse words. Lots of angst. But if you’ve read my stories before, then you know how this will end.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

First Careers.

You quickly make your way down the busy sidewalk, trying to make up for the few extra minutes it took to get out of work. You’d been working for Avengers Publishing House for 3 weeks now, and were loving it so far. Though it was a lot of work and you didn’t really have much free time anymore. You barely got to see your best friends lately, you all just starting on your career paths and slowly figuring out your own lives and new jobs.

Bucky had just passed his bar exam, and had started at a prestigious law firm about 2 weeks ago. You hadn’t seen much of him lately, but you kept each other informed on your day to day lives via text. He was enjoying the new job, but made it very clear that it was a learning curve and very draining work. Going from school life, to the working force was a shell shock for sure. Yes, you had all the book knowledge, but none of the real word experience, so new jobs were a lot to take in at first. You all figured they would be, but not to this extent. But he was happy, and thriving in his career choice, so that’s what truly mattered.

Steve had gotten a paid intern position at the MoMA, it was a once in a lifetime experience and he was over the moon for being chosen for the spot. But he had busted his ass to get it and you couldn’t have been prouder of him or his accomplishments. This was a huge stepping stone for him and his career, and from here more doors would be opened for him, and he’d have many more exciting and fulfilling opportunities in the future. He’d been there for 3 weeks now, having started damn near directly after leaving school.

And you, we’ll you’d been offered a Junior Editors position with Avengers, a very well known and reputable publishing house in Manhattan. It was the first stop on the climb to your dream job, and you were overjoyed with the opportunity to join their team. You’d always loved reading, and at a young age you’d figured out that being a publisher was right up your alley. And now that you had your foot in the door, you’d been entirely right on that thought. But it was a lot of work, late hours and spending your weekends at home and making your way through the stack of manuscripts you’d been given on a deadline.

So you had barely seen the guys over the last few weeks, you’d have the odd small coffee meets on rushed lunch breaks. Or the odd night you’d get together for your traditional weekly BFMMN™ (Best Friend Movie and Munchie Night.) But lately it was less of a tradition, and definitely not weekly. And when you did manage to come together, you’d all usually be out of it and exhausted, so the conversation was non-existent or minimal, at best. You all just being happy in the presence of your best friends, even in utter silence. It was better than nothing.

But today, you were all meeting for dinner, going out to finally celebrate your new jobs and your introductions to the working force. And in Classic You form, you’d lost track of time and were now running late. As per usual.

The restaurants sign finally comes into view and you pick up the pace a little, maneuvering through the swarms of people that always seemed to crowd the city sidewalks. But especially directly after working hours, all the people moving to and from their jobs, their homes and various businesses along the streets. Going to meet friends, to grab coffee or just take a leisurely stroll.

You weren’t taking a leisurely stroll currently though, you were damn near throwing elbows to get to the restaurant in a timely manner. You weren’t super late, by any means, but late was late, and awarded you less time with your best friends. Which wasn’t okay, at all. Not lately at least, not with how little you’d seen either of them the last few weeks.

You’d planned this dinner with them a few weeks ago, to make sure you all were free and clear, and wouldn’t miss it for anything else. You’d made the guys swear to set reminders in their phones so no one forgot or made other conflicting plans tonight. Come hell or high water, you were having dinner with your friends, and then the three of you were returning to your place after, for a few drinks and a movie. There was no getting out of it this time, you needed a fun, relaxing night with your guys, desperately.

You reach the entrance to the restaurant and quickly pull open the door, finding a beautiful young woman standing behind a podium. She asks for the reservation name, and you give her yours as you’d set it up. She smiles, informing you that only one other person has arrived so far and then leads you to the back where the table is.

As your eyes scan the room quickly, they land on a glorious head of blonde hair and a large involuntary smile takes over your face. Stevie, you should have guessed he’d be here first, he was always on time, or in most cases, early.

You also shouldn’t have been so worried about being a few minutes late, as Bucky always showed up last. You were positive that the guy treated being fashionably late like it was a dang character trait. He took it seriously, and never showed up on time, not even remotely.

He ran on his own clock and you’d actually lied to him a few times over the years, giving him incorrect early start times for important things, so that he’d end up late for the fake start time, but right on time for the real one. He’d always chuckle the second he arrived and saw the smug and satisfied expressions on yours and Steve's faces at him accidentally, yet strategically, arriving on time. Though you couldn’t pull that trick too often, or it would cease to work, so you had to pick your battles, and only use it in important or dire situations.

You make your way towards the table, and Steve, admiring the unfairly beautiful angle, even if it was the back of his head. But that wasn’t a shock, the guy was gorgeous and looked outstanding from all sides. It was wholly unfair and a rather large piss off, if you were honest, the guy didn’t have a bad angle anywhere. All hard lines, muscles and taut tanned skin. Then his perfect blonde hair and mesmerizing deep blue eyes, he was the walking embodiment of perfection in your eyes, and probably in many other people's eyes as well.

As you get closer to the table, you notice he is hunched forward a little and looking down, and it doesn’t take a rocket doctor to guess that he probably has his illusive sketchbook out. You have always known, from early on, that Steve loved to draw. He took his sketchbook everywhere with him and pulled it out whenever he was waiting, or no one was watching. But you’d only ever seen a few of his sketches, he was very secretive about his artwork. He didn’t like to show it off and the odd time he did, he was always humble yet embarrassed by it. Saying that it either wasn’t finished yet, or wasn’t that good.

You’d praise the artwork every time though, and not because you were his best friend, but because it was genuinely always amazing. He had a real talent, if he could just get over his insecurities and actually show his work off to the world, he’d see just how honest your praises really were.

But he’d always shrink away at the mention of showing people, saying he didn’t draw for recognition, but instead just for him. It was his stress relief and he only drew whatever caught his eye or inspired him that day. Like little snapshots of his life that were just for his eyes, and his eyes only.

You gave up trying to persuade him to share his art with the world, hell, to even just share it with you and Buck. And instead you’d just leave the topic entirely alone, it wasn’t your place to demand anything from him, especially if it made him uncomfortable. Or felt like you were pulling teeth. So you’d dropped the whole art thing completely, and instead just left it up to him to decide what, and when, he shared it with you. And each time he’d show you a little something, you lapped it up with eager enjoyment and locked away the mental snapshot forever. Taking any little morsel he offered and loving it as brightly as you could.

The fact he even showed you anything, spoke volumes to you. Made you feel so immensely special to be one of the select few who got to actually set eyes on his artwork.

“Whatcha drawing, Stevie?” You asked abruptly as you reached the table, pointedly not looking at his sketchbook out of respect for his art privacy. You quickly took your jacket off, hanging it on the back of your chair before taking the seat across from him.

Steve calmly, but promptly, shut the book and glanced up at you, no matter how many times you tried to startle him, it never worked. The guy had eyes on the back of his head, you swear. He smiled at you, before tucking the book and pencils away in his messenger bag. “Just the things around me. Ya know, the usual,” he shrugged.

You just nodded, averting your eyes to the menu in front of you, as you picked it up and glanced over the options. “Sorry I’m late, got tied up at work,” you pause, glancing around the table playfully before locking eyes with Steve and smirking. “But I see the Jerk is keeping up his personally appointed job of making me always feel on time,” you chuckled, and Steve did as well.

“Well, you know him, he always has to arrive last so we can all fully appreciate his outfit choice,” he grins and shakes his head, picking up his own menu also.

You both fall into a silence, it’s not exactly awkward, but it’s not exactly comfortable either. You and Steve have sort of drifted since he started dating Hailey, not so much physically but more mentally. You still hang out as a group, but no longer just the two of you. And you still talk, but no longer as deeply, it’s mainly surface stuff now. Your jobs, your families, your day to day lives.

He doesn’t talk about Hailey with you often, if at all, he keeps pretty mum about her actually. Barely even saying her name in your presence unless he absolutely has to. No lie, you're thankful for that, but also not at the same time, especially since their third date they’ve been damn near inseparable. Spending almost all their free time together, but he still makes the effort to join in on the group stuff. And luckily for you, he’s never once brought Hailey along, he’s never even asked, not once. He seems to understand and respect that your group time is just for your little circle of 3.

But it’s not that she wouldn’t be welcome to join, every once and awhile. You’d suck up your stupid jealous bullshit here and there, if you had to. She made Steve happy, from the small things you’d heard, and could perceive in your childhood best friend. So having her around the odd time, you could deal with, you weren’t a complete asshole. But yet you liked that he never brought her around, for the sake of your heart, but not that he did it for that reason. God no, he still had no clue of your feelings, and to this day, you’d still never voiced them aloud.

You guessed he never invited her more for the sake that you and Bucky were his friends, his best friends, and sometimes he just needed time away from Hailey. Time to just be a party of one, with people who truly knew him. He had his separate friends that he shared with Hailey, and she had her own friends that were entirely her own. It was a mutual thing for them, their own ways to escape and get the time they needed away from each other, so that the relationship didn’t feel smothering or overbearing. Little spaces here and there are so important, and needed to keep a relationship healthy and thriving. To keep it from turning toxic and becoming too codependent, because that was never a good thing.

Plus you figured he kept her separated because the three of you had so much history, that Hailey may have felt left out or like an outsider to, as she wasn’t around for most of your friendship. Nor was she present for many of the big, and memorable moments that you all reminisced about or brought up often.

Whatever his true reasonings were, you were just secretly thankful for them. And for the fact you had your guys entirely to yourself, whenever you got together. Yes, it was selfish, but most humans hate change, and with certain things, you weren’t any different. You were entirely human, after all.

“Works going okay?”

“Hmm?” You hum, lifting your eyes to find Steve studying you now, his focus no longer on his menu. How long was he staring at you? You have no clue. Are you positive that your slightly disheartened thoughts were clear as day on your face, and that he probably saw them all? Oh 100%, judging by the concerned look on his face currently. You clearly really needed to work on your poker face, it had obviously deteriorated in the last few weeks, what with your lack of needing to use it. “Oh, yeah,” you plaster on your signature fake smile. “Work is going great. How about you? How’s the prestigious MoMA treating you?”

His eyes light up, like they always do when he is excited about something. “It’s amazing, Y/N. Everyone has been so helpful and very knowledgeable. I’ve learned more in the last 4 weeks than I did in my entire time at school.” He chuckles, “or at least it feels like I have.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Steve. I’m so happy you are enjoying it so much,” you smile fondly at him. This one a real smile for once. “No one deserves this experience as much as you, as you busted your ass in school.” You grin cheekily at him, “and I’d know, I was the one who had to drag you out of the library weekly, to force you to eat a real meal.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” He laughs at that, “did I ever properly thank you for single handedly keeping me alive back then?”

You place a finger on your chin as you hum, in feigned deep thought then shake your head. “Not that I can remember. But I take praise and apologizes in the form of baked goods, if you forgot.”

He smirks and shakes his head, “oh, I didn’t forget. Not for a damn second, not when a dozen cookies saved my ass more than a few times with you, throughout the years.”

“That they did,” you laugh, nodding in agreement to his words. “How’s Hailey?” The words slip from your mouth unfiltered and you want to kick yourself. Yet, you are curious how things are with them, you just should have waited till Bucky was here to act as a buffer. Because your conflicting thoughts on the topic of Steve's relationship caused you to do and say the dumbest things when she was occasionally brought up.

You were happy that he was, you truly wanted the best for him. But you still carried this ridiculous torch for him, and it hurt a little every time she was brought up. You were selfishly jealous of her, or maybe less of her, and more of the man she got to call her own. The one man you always wanted that privilege with, but would never get. You knew that, but just couldn’t fully come to terms with it. Maybe one day you would, maybe one day she could be brought up and you wouldn’t cringe internally and feel your heart crack a little more each time.

“Ah, good. She’s good,” he nods, focusing back on his menu. “What looks good here?”

You take a silent deep breath in, your abrupt question luckily not sullying the mood. “I was thinking the Cordon Bleu Chicken Burger sounds fantastic,” you hum, glancing over the options, “but then the Teriyaki Chicken Rice Bowl looks amazing as well.” You groan, “ugh, why can I never just pick one? Why do I always get stuck between two choices, and then literally have to decide when the waitress appears and asks what I want?”

Steve chuckles, “and then you instantly regret your choice the second the waitress walks away.”

You are just about to refute that, but a new voice joins the mix. “But then once the food arrives, she goes on and on about how good of a choice she made. And how great the food is.”

You snap your eyes over and see a grinning Bucky walking towards your table. He takes his jacket off and hangs it on the back of his chair before taking a seat in the spot beside Steve.

“Okay, I’m not that bad,” you defend and playfully roll your eyes at the guys chuckling and shaking their head in disagreement of your words.

“Oh, you totally are,” Bucky reaffirms for good measure.

Which causes you to laugh, “okay, fine, maybe I am. But just a little.”

“Try a lot,” Steve corrects and you sigh deeply, jokingly. Which causes you all to laugh before exchanging your fond hello’s, and asking Bucky the basic life update questions, before you all focus on the menu to make your selections before the waitress appears.

Once the food is ordered, you having once again left the choice to the last minute and then just threw your pick at the waitress like always, the three of you fall into a comfortable and familiar conversation. Taking about the ‘good old days’ and the more in-depth topics.

The food arrives and you all enjoy it, immensely. And once again, you are completely happy with your choice, like the guys mentioned, and your momentary panic for possibly ordering the wrong thing, also like they mentioned, flies out the window. Like every other time, which is so Classically You—as Bucky had pointed out directly after you’d all finished eating. Causing Steve to laugh and you to glare fondly at the large brunette.

Dinner goes well but just as the three of you are paying your separate bills, Steve’s phone rings and he pulls it from his bag, apologizing for forgetting to put it on silent. As was the Rule for group night, that being put in place back in high school when Bucky’s phone had gone off damn near the entire night and he’d ended up essentially ignoring you and Steve to reply to all his ‘fans’ as you’d dubbed them. So you’d implemented a silent phone policy, which basically meant no phones allowed on BFMMN™.

He steps away for a moment, saying it’s Hailey and promising to be quick. You sigh quietly to yourself and stand with Bucky, waiting for Steve to return.

“Hopefully everything’s okay,” you comment softly, slightly irked for the interruption to group night, but also a little worried as Hailey is usually super respectful of your group time. She normally never bothers Steve while he is with you, another thing you are really thankful for. You’re happy he found someone who isn’t overly intrusive or overbearing, she is good for him, as much as you hate to admit it, it’s the truth.

“I’m sure it is, she probably just can’t find the TV remote again,” Bucky shakes his head and his words cause you to furrow your brows and glance up at him.

“What?” You ask confused. Why would she call for something like that? “What do you mean?”

Bucky purses his lips, looking like he just realized he said too much. But why would he feel like that? “Ah, it’s nothing, really. She does it all the time,” he shrugs it off.

What the hell? “Does what all the time? Loses the TV remote?”

“No,” he sighs, scratching the side of his head, it’s a nervous tick of his, he does it whenever he is trying to find the right words. Which only intrigues you more. “Constantly calls him for silly little pointless things. I think she does it to ‘check in’ on him. Make sure he is where he says he is. I’ve mentioned my thoughts about it to Steve, but he just waves them off and says she is just forgetful.”

“Wait, wait,” you put up a hand as if to pause the conversation. “What are you going on about? She doesn’t call all the time. She’s never called him on group nights in the past.”

Bucky gives you a weird assessing look, “yes, she has. Every time, and multiple times per night. But Steve is usually really good with shutting his phone off before he joins us, so that it doesn’t go off constantly while we are all together.” He grins and in Classic Bucky form, he tries to fix the strange awkward atmosphere with humour. “I think you scared the Jesus out of him—or into him, whichever, when you snapped at me that one time for my phone going off all night. Since that night, he’s made it his life’s mission to never be on the receiving end of your cranky outbursts about phone etiquette during group time,” he chuckles. Then jokingly cringes, “You’re scary as hell when you're mad.”

“I had no idea,” you say quietly. Here you’d just finished praising the woman in your mind for her ‘respect’ for group night. When really, that clearly isn’t the case. How did you never know about this?

“I think that was kind of the point.”

“Why does she check in on him so much?” You ask curiously.

“I don’t know. I suspect it might have something to do with you, though.”

“Me?” You quickly ask, “what the hell? Why?”

“She has always had this weird fixation on you, for some reason she thinks there is something more between Steve and you.”

Leave it to Bucky to always give you the real tea, he may not come out and say it right away, but if it ever comes up and you ask him about it, he never lies or avoids the truth. He always tells you how he sees it, how it is, and you’ve always adored that about him. There’s no sugarcoating, and no bullshit, it’s just his own honest opinions on things.

“But we are just friends?” You asked confused, though it’s less a question and more a statement. “What could she possibly be worried about? There are no feelings like that between us.” Which is partially true, from Steve’s side at least. However it’s a complete and blatant lie from yours, but no one knows that—for sure—aside from you. Bucky raises a disbelieving brow at you, but doesn’t comment on your words.

“She seems to think otherwise.” He shakes his head, “But don’t worry too much about it, it’s always been this way and her insecurities are her own. Ya know, since both you and Steve have always been so adamant that you’re just friends.” He pauses, giving you a little side eye before continuing, once again making you aware that he probably does know of your true feelings for Steve. “She’ll either come to realize that, eventually, or she won’t, but that’s on her. Not you. And at the end of the day, it’s between her and Steve, they have to work it out themselves. Don’t stress too much about the things you can’t control.”

You nod, feeling a little guilty for possibly causing an issue in Steve’s relationship. But also slightly irked at the fact you’re just finding out about this now. And at the new realization that she doesn’t come around because she most likely doesn’t like you, when you’ve never done a damn thing to her. Or to warrant her disliking you that much. How fucking rude is that? You may not exactly like her either, but at least you’d suck it up and be civil, you do respect her and Steve’s relationship, and would never interfere with it. Ever. In any form.

Yet, she doesn’t seem to hold those same sentiments, as it turns out, and she tries to interfere with your friend time often. Go figure, you’d have never known that, if it weren’t for Steve forgetting to turn his phone off this time. Before you can think any further on this all, Steve returns looking for a split second like he is exhausted.

But the second his drained eyes meet yours, a light flickers in them and he smiles at you. It almost looks fake at first to your knowledgeable eyes, but you shake your head and ignore that thought as he approaches you both.

“Sorry about that, Hailey just had a quick question.”

Bucky scoffs quietly and you elbow him, giving him a warning look to zip it. “All good, Steve,” you smile at him. Deciding to not pull on this proverbial string for once, because you may not like where it ends up, and you fear that bringing this up to him will only stand to put more of a riff between you two.

“Should we head out?” You ask, glancing between the two guys, receiving nods then the three of you exit the restaurant and head towards your apartment.

Throughout the night, you keep your mouth shut on the topic of Hailey, Steve is never really forthcoming with you about her, and you’re realizing that it’s probably because of her insecurities about you. About your friendship with him, and you can’t be sure of this, but you're willing to bet that anytime you’re brought up, she probably has something to say about it. Or maybe he doesn’t bring you up at all, he’s never been dumb by any means, and he is probably aware of her feelings towards you. And maybe because he filters you out of his conversations with her, he just unconsciously does the same in reverse. Filtering out her from his conversations with you.

Shit, but who honestly knows? You’re so sick of overthinking every little thing in your friendship with Steve, solely because you refuse to ask him about it. You refuse to bring any of it up. But also mainly because you refuse to add anymore stress onto him. Especially this sort of unnecessary and pointless stress.

The last thing you want to do, is to drive him away, or push him away, because he can’t handle the questions and issues from both sides. Do you deserve more answers? Of course. Are you going to press Steve for them? Fuck no. So instead, you’ll just harass Bucky about it later, privately. But Steve will never know any of it, he’ll never know that you know about any of this.

Cause he’s the one that you can't lose. But he’s the one that you can't win.

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

@caps-lockdown @boxofteenageideas @giggleberts @strawberry-gothchild @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @viarogers @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @cjhorseback @jessiedaeum @capricornprince118 @pinkleopardss @drayshadow @wiserebelpartypie @dark-night-sky-99 @patzammit @cs-please @troublermalik @anika-ann @wxstedhexrt @rynabarnesrogers

[aestheticdenki]

Butterflies- Tamaki Amajiki

You had a quirk where you could grow butterflies. It’s Tamaki’s favorite thing when you make them when your frightened.

Warnings- Tooth rotting fluff

—-———————————————————————

Tamaki Amajiki caught your attention from the moment you stepped foot into the classroom. His shy nature and sharp pointed ears were the cutest in your opinion. When you were introducing yourself, you accidentally made eye contact with him causing him to blush furiously and look away. The days following, you found yourself wanting to get to know him more than what the school tells you. You knew he was the top three and would soon be replaced by a younger promising student the moment he became a hero, be it underground or pro. Nejire was the first of the three to talk to you with Mirio following suit. They took a liking to you considering, you were like their other friend, reclusive. You were also the youngest of that class surprisingly but of course, switching from the other best school helps. Nobody even cared that you were an entire year younger.

“So were you recommended to Shiketsu Highschool? Is that why you are so young. Are you a daughter of a famous hero or two?” Well, everyone except Nejire. You knew it was her personal mission to find out everything about you and you didn’t mind. It felt nice to have someone want to know you. Setting down your pencil, you looked up at her expecting eyes. You stifled a scream when you saw Mirio popping up putting his clothes back (that Tamaki had to go get) on from using his quirk right next to you. “I was recommended to Shiketsu High when I was only ten due to my growing powers but they took me at twelve. I am not a daughter of a famous hero unfortunately. My mom and dad are both reclusive and scared of people.” While Nejire was talking, you resumed the paper you were filling out with a doodle of the Big Three in hero form. They couldn’t see it though, as you had it pulled closer to you at a weird angle.

“What are your powers?” You thought of how to explain it. Maybe you should just show them. A butterfly formed out of your wrist and flew around the classroom before landing on Tamaki’s nose and he smiled. Apparently, it was rare for him to smile so Nejire took a photo shoot. “So cute!” That startled the boy and the butterfly landed on your hand and disappeared. “So you have a butterfly quirk?” “Yes and no, I can deal with anything plant and bug related i.e growing, controlling, creating.” She smiled in delight. “I-I think I-it’s cool. I-I l-like the butterflies.” You couldn’t help but smile a little. Just the fact that he liked your butterflies made you feel a little better about your quirk. You were by far not the most confident person in your abilities. “What are you drawing? Can you show us?” Nejire pressed, not leaving any time for you to fawn over the boy with red cheeks. Slowly, you put the pad on the table and showed them the drawing of them. “I-I’m not that g-good so please d-don’t criticize me.” They offered you only good compliments and you sighed.

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

Being a quiet person can be a curse and a blessing unless you were one of the big three. No one messes with you then. Since you weren’t part of the big three, you were getting picked on by the other classmates. You’ve become close with the ones everyone is pining for and that made you the easiest target. That is how you found yourself thrown on the ground with your sketches flying everywhere. “Oh look at these. These are all of the Big Three. Oh what is this?” The girl’s condescending voice made you feel small. She picked up the small stack of papers that hadn’t fallen out of your sketchbook. They were all of one person. “YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON TAMAKI?” She laughed in your face and you stuttered to come up with a response but nothing came out.

“B-B-But. But nothing. Stay away from them or else.” Tears in your eyes, you released vines out of your skin to grab the drawings. The girl pulled her hand back from the vine and cried out in pain when it wrapped around her wrist forcing her to drop the drawings. “You bi-” Her words were cut off by Mirio popping up in front of her, his smile never wavering despite being naked. It wasn’t long before she took off and he turned to you. You screamed and fell back into strong arms. Nejire handed Mirio his clothes while you were still being held by whoever had caught you. “A-Are you o-okay?” You shook your head. How could you be okay? Humiliation and embarrassment were all you felt, the tears in your eyes were long gone. Amajiki hugged you tighter and the other two joined in. You were their friend and they were going to protect you no matter how much it costs them.

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

Your bully has been docile the past few weeks and you have been feeling better. On the other hand, your friends have just come back from their talk about hero work studies to class 1-A. Nejire and Mirio were as happy as ever but you noticed Tamaki looking glum. “What’s wrong with Tama?” Mirio explained how Amajiki couldn’t envision everyone as potatoes therefore got embarrassed and couldn’t talk the entire time. You watched silently and sympathetically as the nervous boy took a seat next to you. Feeling sad that they couldn’t cheer him up, Nejire and Mirio sat and watched him silently. No. You couldn’t watch your crush beat himself up over something he couldn’t control so you were going to do something about it. Taking his hand, you turned it over so that the back was in your palm and you hovered your other hand over it.

A butterfly formed in his hand. It had an indigo hue to it’s wings, almost the same color as his hair. You were confident in your decision until he looked up at you and just like that, you lost all your confidence. “Y-You said you l-liked butterflies s-so I wanted to c-cheer you up. I-I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have d-done that.” “T-Thank y-you.” He smiled and you did too. Cheering yourself up in your head, you watched as he played with the butterfly for a few minutes. Mirio nudged you, grinning. He knew your secret crush and he loved to tease you about it and push you to confess. “Mirio, no.” “______, yes.” God, you just wanted to smack him into next week. Luckily, he dropped it and moved onto something else Nejire was talking about and you went on watching Tamaki and the butterfly.

The bell rang signifying lunch. Everyone got up and raced towards the cafeteria leaving you behind in the dust. This time, you had to go alone because Principal Nezu and Aizawa wanted to talk to the Big Three. “Well. Well. Well. Look who doesn’t have her bodyguards.” Not again. “I saw that little stunt you pulled for Amajiki and it’s honestly pathetic. He doesn’t like you. Get over yourself.” She used her storm quirk to make it rain on you, drenching you from head to toe and anything you had with you which was the torn sketchbook she ripped the last time. All the pictures you drew would cease to exist anymore. You rushed to cover it to protect the pictures “Are you still drawing him!?” She grabbed the book and threw it on the floor causing it to flip open to a random page clear for everyone to see.

“Just give up and go away.” Your eyes stung with tears and you just let her hurl her insults at you. Why argue? They were all true. All of a sudden, the rain stopped and the girl didn’t move. She couldn’t. Aizawa had trapped her and canceled her quirk. At this point, your tears mixed with the water dripping from your hair. “Are you okay?” Mirio asked with seriousness in his tone. You looked up at him and saw Tamaki holding your sketchbook looking at the pictures. He wasn’t supposed to see them and your friends sure as hell weren’t supposed to see you getting bullied. “GO AWAY!” “We aren’t going to leave you alone right now.” You released vines as a shield and ran off to wherever your feet took you. “Amajiki…” Nejire’s voice was soft, far from her happy self. “I-I have to go.” They watched as the boy ran in the same direction you were knowing this was important.

He found you in an empty classroom crying, the plants around you growing at an alarming rate. Maybe it should be the Big Four, you’d make an excellent partner in battle. “________?” You looked up at him. Why is he here? “A-Are you here t-to make fun of m-my crush o-on you?” “N-No. I-I wouldn’t do t-that. I-I’m happy you h-have a crush o-on m-me.” Amajiki placed your sketchbook in your hands. “Y-You left this. I-I like your d-drawings of me.” “T-Thank you.” The two of you sat in silence. Thankfully, the plants stopped growing and returned to normal. “Y-You already know this b-but, I l-like you.” His eyes met yours and he smiled. “I-I like you t-too.” Tamaki quickly kissed your cheek. You yelped and released a butterfly. Hurriedly, you explained that because he kissed you, you got startled and created a butterfly. “W-Wait! E-Everytime I kiss you, y-you release b-butterflies?” You nodded. “I-I might have t-to kiss you m-more.”

[blissfulalchemist]

“I made your favorite.” For CatRaf? 😘😘😘

Thank you for sending this in Jo! Please enjoy this little slice of life piece that I had so much fun writing!

“What day does dad come back again?” Liz asked as she hung upside down on the couch, The Old Man and the Sea in her hands as her long hair pooled to the floor beneath her, “I need to know when to get his present ready.”

Cat looked up from the stove to Liz, “You’re not going to try and deface property again are you?”

“I was joking,” she gave Liz a sideways glance, Liz changing her tune, “Well the shop owner gave me permission, not my fault it was the wrong one we needed.” Cat shook her head, turning the stove down, “Danny is the one that drew it,” Liz grumbled.

“But you let yourself take the fall for it,” she pointed out, her daughter letting out a huff, “You want to take a break from your homework for a little bit?”

Her brown eyes looked over to Catlina, narrowing slightly, “Depends,” Liz let her legs fall forward cartwheeling off the sofa, “What are you making?”

“The recipe your grandmother left for me to start,” Cat looked down re-reading the instructions making sure she understood what was written, “I feel like this doesn’t need that much paprika.”

Liz put her chin on her mom’s head, “Careful mom, you know how they can be about following the recipes. Dad had to get it from someone.”

“Hush you,” Cat said, laughing as she waved Liz off of her, “Will you start peeling the potatoes for me, please?”

Liz smiled, getting the peeler out, “You didn’t answer my question though.”

Cat hummed, “He flies in the twenty-ninth.”

“What are we going to be doing when he comes in? Are we celebrating his birthday first or Christmas? Cause I vote we get the capitalistic holiday out of the way first.”

Cat looked up to her daughter, eyes tired, “You love Christmas so don’t try to put your social justice airs on for me.” Liz scoffed mumbling to herself, “I think it’s going to be Christmas first. I don’t know what we can do for his birthday.”

Liz gave a solemn nod, “You left it to the last minute didn’t you?”

“I did not, now peel those potatoes,” Cat tied her hair up letting out a breath, “I just feel like we’ve done everything at some point for him. There’s nothing left to do that just feels special enough for him.”

Liz stopped peeling looking up, “I’ve never seen you make him any food for his birthday.” Her brow knitted together frowning, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two make anything for each other for events that special. What’s up with that? You two cook so often you think you would have at some point in my life.”

“That….,” Cat stopped thinking it over, “No we can’t. It became a rule and after all these years of peace, we don’t need World War Three happening.”

“There was already a threat of that mom,” Liz pointed out, “And I’m sure yours and dad’s isn’t going to live up to that one.”

“Watch yourself,” Cat warned, “Just trust me, it’s better for everyone if we don’t touch that flame.”

“Mom, it's not that difficult, all you have to do is make his favorite food and be done with it.” Liz put a hand on her hip, “Besides what can be more special than doing something he would never expect from you? You say it yourself all the time, you making food is a labor of love. Why is making something for dad on his birthday any different.” She stood straighter, “In fact I find that that qualifies as more reason for you to show him that you love him.”

Cat crossed her arms, Liz was right and she hated to admit it, “There’s also one hiccup in your plan honey,” Cat turned back to the stove, “I could never make the dish to his liking. He’s so particular about it. I’ve tried and just can never seem to get it right. Even he doesn’t like it when he makes it.” She gave a heavy sigh, “No one else can make it like his mom.”

Liz rolled her eyes, “Oh so tragic that she isn’t currently staying with her for a while.” Liz held a potato up after seeing the narrowed eyes her mom gave her, “I know, I know. Watch the sarcasm. But mom seriously just ask her to teach you. Grandma isn’t going to be offended, bet she wants to teach you.”

“I want to teach your mom what?” Raf’s mom asked as she walked in setting bags on the counter, Liz rushing to help her put the groceries away.

“How to make dad’s favorite dish,” Liz said giving her mom a smile, “She wants to do something special for his birthday.”

“Oh,” the older woman said looking at Cat, “is that all?” Cat nodded, glancing between the stove and her mother in law, her grey hair falling into her eyes as she pointed to some places in the kitchen, directing Liz where to put items. “Where’s your younger brother?”

“Sketching upstairs,” Liz saw the package of sweet rolls, longing to have one, “You got him his favorites didn’t you?”

“Of course I got them for my little Cielito,” she said sweetly, handing the bag over to Liz, “Here put these in the bread box with his name on it, Loquita.” Liz muttered under her breath as she put them away, going back to peeling the potatoes. She gave a clap of her hands turning to Cat, “Now what’s this I hear about you wanting to learn how to make my most secret recipe?”

“You don’t have to. I can always come up with something else to make or do. Liz just thought it would be nice because it’s something we never really do.”

“You never cooked for my boy?” She asked a serious note in her tone.

Cat’s eyes went wide, “Oh no. That’s-that’s not what I meant at all,” she stammered, “I cook, we cook, for each other all the time we just agreed to not on special occasions. It’s just you know- it makes life easier so we aren’t trying to pass the other one up.”

“You and that damn competition of yours,” she waved off, “You know there’s no beating him. But here,” she placed her hands on Cat’s shoulders, looking her in the eye, “I will teach you.”

Cat blinked a few times, “You will?”

“Of course. I can’t have that recipe lost just because I didn’t have a daughter of my own,” Cat and Liz opened their mouths to speak, “I only taught Raf the basics. He doesn’t have the permission to learn the secret ingredient. It’s why he can’t make it properly. Gotta keep the boy humble.”

Cat and Liz looked at each other shrugging, “Can’t blame you.”

“Exactly,” she gave a single clap before pointing to Liz, “Now you. Out of the kitchen. Go and find your brother.” She turned her eyes on Cat, who shifted under the woman’s gaze, “You finish that recipe so I can see just how much my son has taught you.”

“I-. Well we don’t have to start right now,” Cat watched as Liz made her way upstairs laughing to herself.

“I have to know where to begin with you,” she pointed a finger to the skillet on the stove, “because I already know you didn’t measure out the paprika.” She turned Cat to face the stove before taking a seat at the breakfast bar, “Now show me what you got.” Cat stared at the stove trying to remember where her place was. She turned ready to ask a question, “No you can’t have any help.”

Liz came back down the stairs, Danny following behind her, “Is this a test to see how good of a teacher dad is?”

“Grandma’s actually teaching mom how to cook?” Danny asked as he made his way into his grandmother’s outstretched arms, “This oughta be fun to watch.”

“Mom,” Liz said noticing how still Catlina had become, “You were on the sixth step.”

“I said no helping,” her grandma warned, looking down to the sketch book Danny had brought with him, “What are we working on today my Cielito?” 

She took it from him, as he sat down next to her, “Something for dad since our last attempt didn’t work out.”

“Awww,” she pinched his cheek, “Your sister should have done more research, so that your art could grace this county.”

Liz got a glass of water taking a sip, “And we wonder how dad could have ever gotten his ego,” she mumbled under her breath. Cat smiled holding back her laughter.

“I heard that Liz,” she said, not looking away from her grandson.

“Grandma, if not for Liz I’d have been arrested,” Danny reminded her.

She gasped pulling him close to her, “Oh, you’re right. Your face could not survive such horrors.” She gave a smile to her granddaughter, “Thank you Liz.”

“Wessy would have gotten him out before the paperwork was even finished,” Liz joked, rolling her eyes as she sat on the other side of Danny.

“How is Wes and his wife doing lately?” She asked watching as Cat made her way through the recipe picking up a serrated knife, “You need the chef’s knife, my Lina.” Cat nodded grabbing the one from the wooden block.

“They’re doing well, mom,” Cat said chopping up some of the potatoes, “Wes got a promotion and Wren has been doing a lot of great work with the kids and starting plans for connecting music therapy to the schools. They also really enjoyed the cookies you sent over to them for Christmas.”

“Of course they did. Are their kids still doing well in school?”

“Willow always does. Same with Wyatt when Liz doesn’t rope him in to something potentially stupid,” Danny teased.

“At least I’m not taking after my namesake and pining,” Liz gave him exaggerated puppy dog eyes.

“Danny is this true,” Raf’s mom asked.

Cat looked up to Danny seeing the blush creeping up his neck, “Yeah. I didn’t know you had a crush on someone at school.”

“It’s not a crush. We’re just friends,” he argued.

“And so were your father and Wes,” grandma stated, “Now I just want to know who so I can start listing off reasons why they aren’t good enough for you.”

Liz subtly flipped the sketch book a few pages to a sketch of the girl, “He draws pictures of her.”

Danny snatched up the book holding it close to his chest, “Liz,” she stuck her tongue out at him, “that’s not funny. She’s just my friend and these are from a school project that she helped me with.” His cheeks burned as Cat held her hand out for the sketch book.

“Give it here, it’s causing too many problems now,” Danny handed it over, his mom putting it on the counter, Raf’s mom looking at it over her glasses.

“Her hair is too curly,” the three of them gave a side glance to the old woman, “We’d lose the Estrada curl that’s too perfect.”

“Mom,” Cat said laughing.

“What? We just got lucky your dad’s hair had a curl that was close enough to ours,” she said ruffling Danny’s hair, “Now it’s even more perfect.”

Cat rolled her eyes, “Grandma how come you never ask Liz,” Danny looked his sister in the eyes as she took another sip of water, “if she ever has any crushes at school?”

“Liz do you have anybody that you like at school?” Liz stayed silent shaking her head, “See there we go.”

“That’s not fair,” he pouted, Cat shaking her head as she grabbed the small measuring spoons.

“Pobrecito Cielito, Liz doesn’t need the protection that you do,” she wrapped him in her arms, stroking his hair, “You’re soft and sweet just like your mother. You need someone perfect.”

Liz looked over curious, “So then what do I need?”

She didn’t look up to Liz, “You need a Wesley.”

Cat snorted, holding back her laughter as Liz’s mouth fell open, “What’s that supposed to mean, Grandma?”

She pulled away from Danny with a sigh, “It just means that while Danny here,” she cupped his face, “is soft and precious just like your mother,” she gave a smile to Cat before turning to Liz, “While you my dear are like your father.” 

Danny laughed pointing at his sister, “You’re bossy Liz!” Liz glared, lightly punching his arm. 

“So I just need someone to boss around?” She leaned back in the chair crossing her arms in a huff, “Well that’s not happening. Never going to find someone here like that.”

“No you won’t, because,” their grandma said pointing to Liz, “you need someone that will keep you grounded but appreciate your flying. If it was just a matter of who’s the boss and who’s not then your mother and father would have never worked out.”

“I feel that is our dynamic mom,” Cat said, putting the finishing touches on the meal, “He leads I follow.”

“Wrong.” Her finger moved from point at Liz to Cat, “You remind him how to lead. Don’t think I forgot the first Thanksfighting, you held your own against him. He did relent eventually,” Cat grabbed some plates from the cupboard brow knitting together, “He did. It’s harder to see but I know it when I see it.”

Cat shook her head making plates for them all, “Well no need to question something if it’s not broken. Danny, make your grandma some coffee, there’s hot water on the stove already.” He nodded making quick work of what his mom asked of him. “Shall we eat at the breakfast bar or the table?”

“This is fine,” Raf’s mom told Catlina, taking the mug from Danny, “Thank you. We might get to cooking lessons right away.” The four of them grew silent as they ate for a few minutes, Cat’s eyes not leaving her mother in law, waiting for her reaction. She gave a small shrug with a small frown, “It’s not bad, Lina,” Cat took a breath waiting for the rest, “but could use a little work.” She turned to Danny, “Danny! Get my chef’s coat!”

“Ohhh,” Liz started smiling, her laughter intermixing with her voice, “Mom’s in for a crash course in cooking.” 

“I love how you think you’re exempt from this Loquita,” her grandma laughed, “Come. If I’m gonna teach your mom, I’m going to save time and teach you too. Two generations taken care of.” 

Liz whined looking to Catlina for help, giving her daughter a shrug, “Estrada’s are nothing short of efficient.”

“I thought that was the Rojas’,” Liz argued.

Cat rolled her eyes, “It's from both sides. Besides this was your idea and I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

The week that followed stopped being fun pretty quickly as the three generations tried to work together in the kitchen. There was no formal recipe, so both had to pay close attention without getting in the other’s way, all the while Danny got to watch eating the sweet rolls and sketching the scenes from time to time. Raf’s mom made sure there was nothing but perfection from Liz and Cat, their days getting longer as the pieces came together, their bonding feeling more like a bootcamp. Finally, two days before Rafael’s expected return Danny was finally kicked out of the kitchen and sent to his room, the time finally coming for them to learn the secret step that was tradition for only the women to know. One that wasn’t mastered until twenty four hours before Raf’s return.

That night, Cat and Liz were tasked with making a portion each to make sure it was the perfection grandma expected. The two tired as they placed their plates in front of their judges, leaning against the counters. “I’m never listening to your ideas again mom,” Liz whispered.

“I don’t know what planet you just came from,” Cat narrowed her eyes at Liz, “but this was your idea.”

“And you should know better than to listen to me,” Cat rolled her eyes at the comment watching her mother in law. Cat’s hands starting to shake as her heart thundered in her chest, Is this what it feels like to be on the TV competitions?

Raf’s mom looked to Danny, the two giving curt nods, the older woman stepping down from the chair, arms outstretched. “Mijas,” she embraced them both, “It is perfect! I am so proud of you both.” When she pulled back her eyes looked at Liz first, “Yours can use a little work but you’re still young,” she gave a pinch on Liz’s cheek. 

Cat had started to laugh as the two discussed what needed to be fixed when her phone rang. Cat ran to it, her smile spreading seeing Raf’s picture on the screen, “Raf, please tell me they gave you an earlier flight. The kids and I miss you so much. We can’t wait for you to get home!”

He was silent a moment before letting out a sigh, “I know you do Conejito, but,” Cat’s face started to fall at his hesitancy, “there’s been some delays here because of the weather.”

“Oh,” Cat said crossing her arm across her chest, “You’re just gonna be a bit later than expected which is okay. We can all wait up for you.”

He gave a small laugh, “I’d love for nothing more than to see all your faces as soon as I walk through that door, but it’s expected to be an extra day, maybe a few more depending on how this storm goes.”

“I-I see,” she turned away from everyone else hiding her disappointment, “What does it mean if it’s longer than a day? Will you be able to extend your leave?”

“I can’t this time, mi amor. Worst case is that I would only get a few hours with you all,” she could hear the pain in his voice, “Which is fine, so long as I get to see you all, but we won’t be able to do much more than have lunch.” Cat stole a glance behind her to their kids, their faces growing sadder as they put two and two together. “Look, we just have to hope for the best okay. We do that and it’s going to all work out.”

Cat nodded, “You’re right. That’s all we have to do. In the end we get to see you still and that’s what matters.”

“Exactly, and don’t worry I’ll keep you updated,” she heard him swallow hard, “Are the kids there? I want to say hi to them.” 

“Yeah, your mom is here too still,” Cat handed the phone off to them making her way up the stairs to the master bedroom, wiping the tears from her face. It just didn’t seem fair that while he was away he only got so much time to fly overseas to see them, only for a storm to hit where he was making it harder for them to see each other. She gave a sigh making sure she looked presentable before making her way back downstairs. 

The next twelve hours were slow and filled with dread as they all waited for updates on what was happening with Raf. It was Liz that spoke up first during the family’s transition to another movie, “I can’t stand to mope about any more today! I’m calling Tia Wren to come and get us.”

“And do what,” Danny asked looking up from where he laid against Cat.

Liz stood putting her hands on her hips, “Anything but what we’ve been doing. Time will move faster if we go out and do something.” She held her hand out to her younger brother, “What do you say?”

Danny looked up to Cat, giving him a nod, “Alright let’s go call them.” He jumped up following Liz to the other room.

Raf’s mom moved to sit next to Cat, putting an arm around her, “I’ll drive them there. You stay here just in case he never got a chance to update us on his arrival.” She kissed the top of Cat’s head, “You look like you could use the rest anyway.” 

“Mom,” Danny called out, “Aunt Wren and Wes want to know if it’s okay for us to stay the night there. They have something planned for dad and want us to help out.”

“Are they planning a party?” Grandma asked, “Cause if they are I will stay with you all.”

Danny nodded going back to the room, “You don’t have to do that mom. They’ll be fine with them.”

She waved off Cat’s comment, “I like planning parties and I can give them a little break too. Take the kids out to a movie or something.” Cat’s phone chimed with a text from Raf. It was a selfie of him with a sad face next to a screen with the estimated arrival date of his flight. From what Cat could gather from the picture he at least wasn’t where he was stationed at. She gave a sad laugh showing the screen to his mom. “He’s not coming in until tomorrow it looks like,” she gave a sigh, hugging Cat, “You still get a few days with him, mija.”

Liz and Danny rushed back into the room, “They said you can stay if you want grandma,” Danny said as Liz made her way up the stairs. He took in their faces, “Any word on dad?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Cat told him, “Sorry buddy.”

He gave a shrug, “He’s still going to be on time for the party and then we have him all to ourselves for a few days after that.” He gave Cat a hug, “It’s all going to work out mom, just you wait and see,” she gave him a kiss on the cheek before letting him rush up the stairs to pack an overnight bag.

Cat looked to Raf’s mom, “Do you know how to get there?”

She nodded, “A little and if anything I’m sure those two know how to get there.” She gave a pat on Cat’s knee as she stood to collect her things. The three of them were saying their goodbyes to Cat in the span of ten minutes reminding her to keep the party a secret as they drove away. Cat laid herself down on the couch putting another movie on to keep the silence of the house at bay finding herself falling asleep for the duration of it. She woke to an update from Raf, this time showing himself at an airport that looked more clearly to be one in the states, his face looking bored as he stared off into space, the caption reading “Why must airplane food taste worse than MREs?”. The second picture he sent was one of a golden retriever that had rolled onto their back looking up to Raf, it’s tongue hanging out “Since when does Wren let Wes out without a leash.”. 

Cat couldn’t help but laugh at the pictures, sending a selfie of her own worried face, “Well that’s a problem considering I just sent the kids to stay with him for the night.”. Raf’s response was quick as he sent his own worried face. She laughed a moment before her heart felt like it was pulling towards him, “I miss you, my love.”. His response took a little longer, the little dots staying up as he must have been deciding what to write before settling on, “I miss you too.”. 

Cat looked up to the ceiling debating what to do with the time she had. She didn’t feel like watching another movie yet and the time showed that it was too early to start getting ready for bed or even dinner. Her eyes looked to the kitchen, it wasn’t too early to start making a meal though. Cat got up making her way to the kitchen, making the dish she had perfected, readying it to be stored in the fridge, just under cooked enough for it to taste it’s best when she heated it up. 

Time was still stretching as she just decided to make her way upstairs to take a bath and relax. Another update from Raf, this time a picture of the inside of a plane, “One more layover!....I don’t know how long it will be.” a sad face emoji with a tear became its own text. She smiled settling in, asking him to hurry back to her along with a picture of her in the bath as extra incentive. She found herself getting ready for bed once the water became cold, her routine taking longer than normal making herself perfect for Raf’s return. 

By the end of it she still found herself wandering around the house settling back down on the couch getting her favorite show ready to watch, one more text from Raf coming in. This time it was a professional photo of a blue horse statue with red eyes, followed by the familiar terminal behind Raf’s smiling face, “Praise Blucifer! I am within driving distance if I have to be.” Cat laughed simply sending a kissing face emoji to him. Her mind no longer able to focus on the show as she laid there her heart racing, knowing he was just so close to her. Her eyes started to close as a slow song played during an episode, her mind already playing a scene of her and Raf together again.

The moving headlights hurt her eyes as she sat up in the now quiet house, catching the time on her dying phone, six in the morning. She yawned, stretching out her arms, hearing the faint sounds of a car door slamming shut. Cat walked to the front door of the house, smoothing out her hair, watching as a familiar silhouette passed the windows, heart racing as she wanted nothing more than to run to him. The door opened slowly, his smile meeting her first as he stepped through, Cat running into his arms as the door closed behind him. 

He lifted her easily as she buried her face into his neck, wrapping her arms and legs around him, “I missed you so much,” she said between her tears falling, kissing his cheek.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much I missed you,” he pulled away far enough to take in her face, kissing her deeply, his arm tightening around her. “Is everyone asleep upstairs?”

Cat shook her head, “They’re all at your brother’s place,” she put her hands around his face kissing him again, “You said tomorrow afternoon, so they stayed the night.”

Raf moved them further into the house setting her on the back of the sofa, “It was going to be,” he kissed down her neck, his hands running along her legs, “I guess I must have looked so sad seeing that picture of you,” Cat started to unbutton the jacket he wore, “because someone gave up their seat to get me home faster.” 

“Well I am thankful for them,” she pulled on the lapel of his jacket bringing his lips down to hers. His hands moving under the silky pjs she wore, trails of fire forming with each touch of his fingers against her skin, as his lips moved down her neck. Cat gave a small moan parting her lips, before she started to hear Raf’s stomach start to growl. She laughed pulling away from him, “When was the last time you ate?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he tilted her chin to look her in the eye, “I can wait.”

She shook her head, “No, mi amor,” she pushed him away gently, “You need to eat or else you’ll have no energy.” She got down from the sofa making her way to the kitchen, “Besides I made your favorite,” Cat stopped at the fridge holding on to the door turning to him, “and I promise you that it’s going to be worth the interruption.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, cocking an eyebrow, “Oh will it now? Cause you’ve tried in the past to make it.”

“Well I didn’t spend a week learning exactly how to make it from your mom,” she teased as she bent down grabbing the food, feeling Raf grab her hips.

“She actually taught you how to make it?”

Cat nodded, setting the food on the counter, “Liz too. Even had to make a blood oath to never tell the secret step to you or anyone else. Only our granddaughters.”

He laughed, pinning her against the counter, giving her a kiss. When she didn’t start laughing with him, he stopped, “Oh you’re serious. Even the blood oath?”

“Well Liz and I both cut ourselves at least once during the week and your mom said it counted,” she explained holding up her hand with the mostly healed cut between her thumb and forefinger. He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips.

“Well at least you and Liz survived.”

His hands started to run up her body, bringing their hips together, “I’m still going to make sure you eat dinner first,” she whispered in his ear.

He kissed up her jaw before whispering, “And what if I just want to skip straight to dessert,” he lightly bit her ear lobe while his left hand found its way into the waistband of her shorts. “There’s only so much time we truly have alone,” he said lowly, his fingers running over her lace underwear, sending small waves of pleasure through Cat. “We should take advantage of it, mi amante,” his hand left her shorts lifting her by her thighs, Cat’s legs wrapping around him on instinct. She smiled kissing down his neck, reveling in the moans he gave her as he walked them up the stairs. 

Once at the top he set her down letting her pull his jacket and shirt off before Raf had her against a wall his kisses feverish and hands rough, Cat’s trying to keep up as she fumbled with trying to loosen his pants and feeling his toned body. She wanted every part of him, making it known as she made a space big enough to rub his already hard length, his hands starting to push her towards their bedroom. The two didn’t even bother closing the door as Raf threw Cat on the bed, letting her watch as he quickly removed his pants, pulling her legs to the edge to remove her clothing. 

He brought himself onto the bed using his hips to part her legs for him as he kneeled above her taking in her body. His hands ran down her body lightly, as her breathing became heavy as his touch traced every part of her. Cat moved her hips up trying to get some kind of friction, Raf pushing them back down against the bed. She let out a small whine growing tired of him, in her mind, teasing her, pulling on the dog tags that still hung around his neck. She kissed him roughly taking advantage of the small surprise on his end to force him on his back, straddling him as she moved her lips down his neck and across his collarbone. Her hands played with the waistband of his boxers, sliding in after he gave a few breathy moans from her kissing alone, running her fingers up and down his shaft. He let out a groan, his head falling back, muttering to himself as she kissed down his torso, stopping just above hips. She gave a smirk biting her lower lip, meeting his eyes as she said, “Welcome home, my love,” she pulled his underwear down letting her tongue run along his length, “and happy late birthday.”