#and the amount of times i get 'where is my notebook?' 'i left my notebook in my locker' 'do you have pencils' 'where is the dq'

[sysig]

VERY IMPORTANT UPDATE!!!

Baby’s upside-down :D

What a silly goof!

What a handsome lad 💕

[minicy]

[ID. Tweet says, "Does anyone else with ADHD... not seem to form habits? The self help literature always says habits become second nature - "you don't have to remind yourself to brush your teeth, right?" But brushing my teeth isn't automatic, it's a task I have to remember and choose every night." End ID.]

yep.

[k-hotchoisan]

touch and sketch

<jongho x fem!reader>

stuck with an artist’s block, Jongho’s friend introduces you to be his model for his project, which ends up introducing a whole whirlwind of problems, especially when you're modelling nude for him, and he realises how pent up he is on top realising how attracted he is to you.

Genres/warnings: smut, pwp, artist jongho (bc he’s the only who can actually draw 😭), nude modeling for art, perverted! Jongho who’s actually pent up, unprotected sex, sexual tension, kinda fluff?, oral (m receive), tit/nipple licking, masturbation, blowjob, cumming on garment, cream pie, Wooyoung is lowkey a wingman, bathrobe is a paid actor

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee

🩷stay perverted: the masterlist

The back of Jongho's wooden pencil taps against his sketch book. The page has faint lines of messy sketches, erased over and over again. Eraser dust is scattered all over his desk, especially around his notebook. Jongho sighs, dropping his pencil, where it rolls into the crook of the notebook before he gets up to grab his third cup of coffee. Artist's block is a common occurrence, but this came at the wrong fucking time. Not when he has deadlines to meet.

He glances over at the large blank canvas propped up on the easel. It doesn’t help that his model bailed last minute because something came up. Now he’s left uninspired, without a model, and a shit ton of piling works to submit before the month ends. Sure, two and a half weeks sounded long, but for an artist? It’s almost a death sentence with the amount of work sketches he needs to come up with, let alone the large glaring canvas serving a reminder that his final piece is due altogether.

Knocking from the studio door echoes in the room, snapping Jongho out of his thoughts and worries, at least for the time being. There is a pause before the door pushes open, Wooyoung’s head peeping from the door.

“Hyung”, Jongho greets, settling his mug onto the table, rubbing his hands on the fabric of his trousers. Wooyoung’s eyes are bright, and he looks like he has something to tell Jongho, and he hopes that it’s good news.

“I’ve got good news for you, buddy”, Wooyoung says, dragging a stool to sit beside his junior. “I found a replacement model.”

Jongho’s tired eyes suddenly lighten up. Fuck, there’s hope. Maybe he can wing this shit especially when one of his worries has been elevated by a whole ton.

“How?” Jongho asks, his fingers idly twirling the pencil.

“I’ve got my ways. You owe me dinner, bro”, Wooyoung smiles, patting Jongho’s back gently. “But you can do that when you’re done with your submissions.”

Jongho has never felt relief this large like the ocean, washing over him over and over again. He feels like he can breathe once more. He looks up at Wooyoung, his eyes reflecting a glint of hope of completely escaping his hell.

“Thank you, Hyung. I really am eternally grateful for you”, Jongho sighs, dropping the pencil back to the desk as Wooyoung snatches his phone to enter the model’s number into Jongho’s phone.

Wooyoung dons his signature smile before he heads for the door. He pauses for a moment before he turns to Jongho.

“She’ll come in tomorrow. Don’t scare her off okay?”

Jongho scoffs at Wooyoung’s words, but he nods before he waves Wooyoung off, then going back to his empty sketch book, attempting to drown in his work once more, hopefully with an ounce of progress this time at least.

You glance down at the message from the number Wooyooung passed to you the day before. He told you he had a friend who needed a model for his art finals, and that he was pretty desperate because his previous model cancelled on him. You didn’t think much of it, considering that you did help a couple of your close friends to model for their art finals too, and accepted without much thought.

“He’s a polite guy, but he’s a little shy. Don’t bite him okay?” Wooyoung reminded you, receiving a soft smack to his arm from you in response.

You look up at the art studio, double checking the signage before knocking on the door.

There’s silence. You furrow your eyebrows and knock again after a few seconds.

Shuffling could be heard from the other side of the door before the door pulls open to reveal a boy with glasses that sit loosely on the bridge of his nose. His cheeks are chubby, and his whole demeanour reminds you of a…bear? Something about him looks so cuddly. But he looks like a mess—his brunette hair tousled, his eye bags are slightly prominent, and it makes you wonder how much this poor dude has been slaving away for his work.

You force a smile. “Hey! I’m y/n. You’re Choi Jongho right?”

Jongho blinks before it seems like a lightbulb has gone off in his head. His eyes slightly brightens up, and he shifts a little to let you into his studio.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Thank you for accepting such a last minute thing. I’ll compensate you once I’m done”, Jongho greets, shutting the door behind him.

You take a step into the studio, taking in the small and cluttered space. Canvases and easels stands take up space on the floors and corners, different types of papers, pens, brushes and palettes covering the desk. There is a couch in the middle of the room, probably for the model, dusted clean, with a large piece of fabric hastily draped over the piece of furniture.

He plants himself on the roller chair before he turns to you, gesturing to you to sit on the couch, and you take the offer, trying to relax against the fabric beneath you.

“So”, Jongho begins, flipping a smaller notebook open, scanning through the bullet points he wrote. “I need you to come in quite often for the next two weeks, at least until I’m done with this, so I’ll have to trouble you a bit.” You shake your head reassuringly.

“No worries, I’m done with my finals, so I’ve got time to spare.”

Jongho nods, and he starts with briefing you on the details of the schedule, and he pauses at the final bit. He seems hesitant.

“…And for this piece, I need you to model nude”, he finally says. Then he looks up. “Are you okay with that?” You see pink tint dusted at the tips of his ears, but his expression remains firm. But he continues, his gaze switching back to his moleskin-esque looking notebook, “this one is gonna take the longest because as you can see”, his hands gestures to the large, blank canvas that sat in the middle of the studio, “it’s definitely going to take awhile.” He’s done, and you see his fingers fidgeting with the dangling ribbon of his notebook.

“Sure. Do we get started now? We should right?”, you respond, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips, watching hints of relief flood Jongho’s expression as he relaxes slightly. “I’ll compensate you well, I promise”, the male artist sighs in relief.

Of course, he doesn’t have you model nude immediately. He doesn’t want to scare you off, not when he knows how fucking difficult it is to get a model, let alone someone to model nude for him. But he has you do simple poses, poses that he manages to transfer into gorgeous sketches in his sketch book that he feels relief in seeing filled up. It’s amazing to see Jongho at work—how he’s concentrated at fixing your poses at the smallest angles and movements, and how he’s able to replicate real life into drawings. It was almost like magic.

You take a small sip of coffee that Jongho made for you as you watch the pencil in his fingers make rough, yet confident strokes on the paper, all of it coming together.

You observe that he’s rather quiet for the most part, or maybe he’s just absorbed in his own works. So from time to time, you would talk to him, sometimes making coffee for him in between sessions, which Jongho is definitely grateful for. Undoubtedly, he slowly starts to open up, on top of making progress on his assignments. If anything, you thought it was nothing short of attractive Jongho looked when he was fully focused onto his crafts.

The sixth day is when he gives you a head’s up to start modelling for him in nude. By then, the both of you were more comfortable with each other, especially spending quite a bit of time in close proximity, not to mention, despite his seemingly cool demeanour, Jongho was a very easy person to get along with.

“Have you done this before?” Jongho asks, as he sifts through large canvases, looking for the one that is perfect. “Yeah, a couple of times”, you reply, squeezing the bathrobe in your arms.

“I’ve drawn the curtains and locked the door. You can remove your clothes behind the folding screen there”, he points over before going back to setting up his charcoals onto the easel.

It doesn’t take you long to walk out from behind the folding screens in a bathrobe, and Jongho is still setting up his canvas. He looks over when he hears your footsteps growing closer, then gestures to the couch, now with a large piece of white silk fabric draped over. “You can get ready over there”, he instructs.

You drop the robe, letting it hang over the couch as you get yourself comfortable on the furniture. You shiver slightly at the cold breeze from the ceiling fan, and well, also because you were currently naked.

When Jongho is finally done with setting up, his attention turns to you, and he’s rooted to the ground for a good few seconds as his eyes wander all over your body and your pretty little features, and for a moment, his breath is caught in his throat.

Here’s the thing, Jongho has had models model nude for him—both men and women. He’s not phased, because that’s just part of what he needs to do—capture anatomy at it’s rawest form and sketch them onto his papers. But then, here’s the thing—he suddenly cannot seem to focus when his eyes are on you.

“So, how should I pose, Mr Artist?” You ask with a small smile on your face, snapping him out of his little thoughts. Jongho looks pretty flushed—you notice the tips of his ears are growing slightly red, but he walks over where you are.

“If you don’t mind”, he asks, and you shake your head, holding your breath when you feel his warm touch against your bare skin as he gently positions you.

“Lie down for me and face the canvas. I’ll position your arms and legs for you”, Jongho says. You let yourself rest on the plush couch, and you feel Jongho’s hands all over you once more, resting under your ams as he positions it on the couch. Your eyes follow his movements, noticing how he would glance past your chest, but then pause when he has to touch your lower body. The red at the tip of his ears is starting to flush his entire ear by now. His fingers brush against your thighs, and you try not to fidget too much, and hope he doesn’t feel the goosebumps he’s giving you. Jongho manages to position your legs the way he wants them to look before he hastily gets up and scurries back to the canvas.

“I might need you to stay like that, at least until I’m finished with the rough sketch. Could you hold on for me until then?” He asks, his eyes slowly trailing down your whole body, trying to keep the image in his head.

“I’ll try my best”, you reply with a smile.

Jongho tries his best to keep his thoughts at bay, at least, until he finishes the sketches. He lets his hands do the magic, the graphite pressing against the canvas as the quick strokes begin taking shape.

The process definitely took awhile, and you were grateful that Jongho positioned you in a pose where it was relatively comfortable, at least. The both of you would have small conversations in between, and it definitely helped ease the tension. When Jongho’s head would peek out from the side of the canvas, you would internally giggle to yourself, thinking how much he looks like a little bear looking for food.

Although the first day of the nude modelling went well, for some reason, Jongho can’t seem to get you out of his head, well your body, specifically. The touch of your skin still burns on his, and he barely is able to shake off the growing tension in his body. He slaps his cheeks.

Few more days, Jongho. Just a few more days.

The following days go by, not with their own problems—not with the art piece though, thankfully, but with you. The more he stares at you, the more he can’t seem to get his mind out of the gutter. Each passing day he thought he would grow more used to looking at your bare body, but apparently not, because his cheeks would heat up whenever he’s shading or blending, especially nearing your chest and thighs, when he has to look over, his gaze lingering a little too long, at the same time, thinking about how ridiculous he feels about this. Jongho mentally slaps himself, and forces his attention back to the canvas, his shading already halfway done.

But as his glances continue to stay longer on you, the sudden thought of his fantasies bubble up right at that moment—the way you’re writhing underneath him, taking his thick cock inch by inch on the couch that you were supposed to be modelling on, his bare skin against yours. His mind begins to float at the expressions you would make, the things you would say, and his grip on his charcoal tightens.

Jongho pauses there, his mind swimming in the depths of sin, his charcoal paused in mid air. His erection is pressing against his cargo pants. He internally curses, thankful that the canvas is big enough to hide whatever embarrassment he’s holding right now.

As the drawing slowly blooms on the canvas, you could take more frequent breaks in between sessions. At first, you’d wear the bathrobe fully, but as you slowly become more comfortable, you wouldn’t even tie the bathrobe, letting your nipples peek through the large opening, and boy, did that sometimes send Jongho’s head spinning when you’re teasing him like that.

Everything seems to almost snap during another one of your breaks, you quietly walk over to Jongho’s side, your bathrobe only draping over your shoulders watching him blend out the charcoal. The smell of your body soap hits him and floods all of his senses, and Jongho stills, his mind completely surrounded by you.

And that’s when realises his cock is rock hard, and that you are standing just over his shoulder, barely covered.

“I really like your art style”, you compliment, your eyes tracing the lines. You lean in forward, and your hand presses against his shoulders to balance yourself, followed by your body weight. All Jongho can do is force a smile while his heart is beating a hundred miles an hour.

When you leave few hours later, Jongho stays behind to finish and clean up. He doesn’t know how he was able to pull through the rest of the session with an erection just pressing painfully against his pants, but the moment he goes to the couch to collect the bathrobe, he cracks. The smell of you lingers on the piece of garment and Jongho feels like he’s about to fucking burst. He slides his bottoms off, including his underwear, letting his wet cock sit heavily against his abdomen with a relieved sigh.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

Lifting the garment to his nose, your smell completely engulfs him, and his hand is on his cock, giving it a couple of pumps, soft groans leaving his lips. His hips buck into his hand, desperate to speed up while day dreaming about you between his legs, taking his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head, looking up at him with fluttered lashes, then slowly pulling out, agonisingly slow that it drives Jongho crazy, before you pump him and let him cum all over your bare tits.

Jongho’s hips jerk, accompanied by a whine at that imagery. He fucking swears you look ethereal bare like that, but his cum on you? He thinks you’ll look like the perfect masterpiece. The bathrobe falls slightly, and drapes over his cock, and Jongho decides to fuck his hand over the garment, while still letting himself go drunk over your smell.

“Y/n, fuck. Deeper. Oh gods”, His mind slowly growing more hazy at the thought of you doing things to him. Before he knows it, a pleasured whimper slips past his lips, his eyes rolling back, the lewd sounds of his cock being fucked by his hand grow louder, more faster and more wetter, as his orgasm bubbles over, warm and thick all over the bathrobe.

He’s fucked.

The next day, Jongho is completely in a blur, but he’s almost done, much to both his relief and dismay, mostly because he wants to see you more often. The sinful act he committed lingers freshly in his mind, and the slight of you wearing the bathrobe, loose over your body, when he just cummed on it the night before (although he still washed it), has his cock jump in his pants again. He internally prays for the session to go quickly, or smoothly at least, because he doesn’t know how much more he can take.

On your break, you stand behind him again, watching him skilfully use his fingers to blend out the charcoal, his movements growing slower at your scent once more.

“Oh, that means you’re almost done, aren’t you?” You ask, your sides leaning onto him, only separately by the useless garment hugging you loosely.

“Yeah. It’s just a little more blending and we can wrap up”, Jongho manages to reply. He doesn’t catch you taking one of the charcoal. He doesn’t catch you with that playful stare while you slightly stain your hands with it. And he definitely doesn’t catch your playful intentions when you smudge your fingers against his face, a stroke of charcoal that streaked down his cheek while he blinks in utter shock. He glances up at you with a pout before hastily getting off his chair.

A wide smile spreads over your face before you giggle and run away, with Jongho giving chase after you.

“Come back here!”, he yells playfully, chasing you around the studio, which only makes you giggle even more. “That was rude as hell, y/n!”

His hands manage to grab your wrists, and you’re pinned onto the couch, the bathrobe sliding off your shoulders, all the way down your arm. Jongho is just inches above you, panting slightly from chasing you.

“Caught ya”, he presses his hands on your face, streaking a charcoal stain down your cheek as well, for payback, reflecting your smile before it completely disappears. You stare back at him breathlessly, your eyes lowering to his lips before shifting back to his eyes.

He slowly lets go of your wrists, his hands sliding to your jaw. Your arms hug his neck, and before you realise it, Jongho’s lips are soft and wet against yours, parting your lips to let his tongue swipe your bottom lip. A soft groan is pulled from you as he tugs gently against your bottom lip, feeling slick slowly puddling from the arousal. Jongho’s hands slide down to your thighs, pushing them open while his lips keep yours occupied, his mind slowly blanking out.

When the both of you pull back, you can’t help but relish at the way Jongho still looks so fucking good even after that steamy make out session. He looks starved, and so pent up, even more evident when you feel the hardness of his cock just pressing onto your thigh through his pants.

You press your bare leg against his erection, and Jongho lets out a whimper.

“Let me help you with that”, you offer, shifting so that it was Jongho on the couch. You tug at the waistband of his shorts, and his cock comes into view, as heavy as it was the night before, transparent fluids coating the tip of his length.

His breathing grows more ragged, because he can’t believe that this is happening.

“So fucking pretty”, you smile, before sticking your tongue out, giving licks from the base to the top, sending Jongho’s mind into a complete frenzy. “How long have you been pent up like this, babe?”

Babe. Jongho’s breath is caught in his throat. “Awhile”, is all he manages to answer, his abdomen flexing from the way you’re stroking him with your hands.

You don’t give him any warning before pushing your head down, letting your mouth cover the entirety of his cock, letting it hit the back of your throat. Jongho’s knuckles are growing white from how hard he’s gripping the silk fabric on the couch, his other hand tugging at your scalp.

“F-fuck. Don’t stop. Please. It feels so fucking good”, he whimpers, slowly turning into a sob, his hips fucking into your mouth. You pull back slowly, letting him watch his cock emerge from your mouth, wet and sticky with a coy smile.

“Feels better than in your little fantasies, doesn’t it?”

Jongho’s eyes widen, and he swallows hard. Fuck.

You don’t even give him a chance to respond, taking his full cock into your mouth once more, this time, bobbing your head, feeling him fill up your mouth whenever you take him in once more. Jongho’s mind is completely gone, his head is resting against the backing of the couch, eyes rolled back in complete bliss.

He barely comes back to reality when you finally slow down and pull back, thick fluids of his precum and your spit link your mouth to his cock before you lick them away. You give his pretty cock a couple more pumps before you sit up to straddle his thighs, letting Jongho undress you completely (although there wasn’t much to undress anyway), leaving the bathrobe somewhere on the couch.

You inch forward, capturing his lips with yours once more, taking his hands to roam around your bare skin, letting his warm touch linger. Jongho lifts your hips, barely hovering over his cock, and he pushes you down slowly, his eyes locked onto you—eating up your fucked out expression as you’re spilt open by him from below as his cock pushes past your hole. He swallows hard again when his cock is seated warmly in your cunt, taking your breast to his mouth, his tongue swirling gentle circles over and over to distract himself from cumming too early. Drool seeps past the corner of his lips, his mind dizzy at how you’re so warm and just squeezing him so fucking perfectly. He switches to your other breast, giving it the same treatment, absolutely drunk on the way you’re moaning his name, your hips lifting slightly before he’s seated in you to the hilt.

“So fucking deep babe”, you sigh, keeping your eyes locked onto Jongho, who only pulls you into another deep kiss before he says, “we can go deeper.”

You blink at him, and this time, it’s his turn to stop you from responding when his hands roam to your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, letting your cunt swallow his cock even more, before making you bounce on his cock while you hug him.

“That’s it. All the way, baby”, he encourages right into your ears, ignoring the profanities spewing out of your mouth.

The sounds of wet skin only echoes louder in the closed studio, you only pray that no one walks past or tries to rattle the damn door knob. Well, not that you could do anything about it.

“Too much, Jongho-“ you choke, feeling his cock dragging against your soft walls, “I’m gonna-“

“Go on, let it go”, he encourages once more, making sure every time he sinks into you, you fucking feel him pressing against your sensitive spots.

Jongho holds your thighs down, his vision completely focused onto, watching you fall apart on his cock, fluttering so fucking nicely against his length as stars overtake your vision, and cream coating his cock when he pulls out, only to rut back into you.

“You’re so fucking pretty, y/n. Even the canvas can’t capture your glow”, Jongho confesses, feeling himself reach his limit. His eyes are shut, and he buries his head against the crook of your neck. You feel yourself flush at his words.

“I’m gonna cum, y/n. I can’t take it. Feels so good”, Jongho mutters, eyes glazed, looking up at you once more, his grip around you tightening. Your fingers comb back his locks, and with a smile, you reply, “you’ve earned it, baby.”

He falls apart, flooding thick and warm cum into your pussy, his breathing uneven and his mind spinning. Oh god, he can’t think.

As the both of you come down from your high, Jongho still has his head nuzzled against your neck, giving soft kisses from time to time as he softens in you.

“Don’t you need to finish your piece?” You ask, slotting your hands into the sleeves of the bathrobe as Jongho holds it behind your back.

“Yeah, I’m almost done. If it wasn’t for someone who decided to smudge charcoal onto my face”, he teases, and you laugh in reply. “Give me fifteen minutes, then we can have dinner together.”

The mess the both of you made was the least of your concerns, because Jongho scored a distinction on said piece anyway, and evidently, you’ve become his favourite muse, and he turned to be your favourite artist.

[moonsaver]

Context before getting into the actual idea: I recently saw some fanart based on concept art for Dr Ratio where he has slightly longer, messier hair and the fanart interpreted this as him having a bit of a rebellious phase when he was younger.

So now I’m just thinking about Reader going to school with him when he was going through this phase. He had a bit of a crush on her but didn’t know how to express it so he just messed with her constantly.

And now they meet again when he’s changed and he hasn’t gotten over her she’s just getting massive amounts of whiplash from how wildly different he is. Could be yandere 👀

Anon. I am GRIPPINT YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. Listen. Unfortunately i doubt i did this justice but i tried my best PLEASE okay

A bit long, under the cut!

Its not exactly easy to imagine Dr. Ratio of all people being rebellious, but that just makes it even more possibly believeable in my opinion. I am deeply convinced he has had his crazy scientist, jerkward asshole phase at least once and was soo deeply embarassed the moment he left it.

But listen. His professors all probably HATED him because he would probably constantly correct them, be so disgustingly overeducated to the point they'd send him to the library or tell him to get lost just so he wouldn't disrupt class. He's the infamous asshole who sits wherever he wants, and hoardes an entire table to himself if he's at the library or at the cafeteria. Any student who needs a pen or eraser or a pencil knows he's NOT the one to ask, even if it was in the middle of an exam worth half their grade and he was the only person beside them. He does literally anything he wants and no one can stop him except probably by force, and if they do, something worse ends up happening to them instead.

Anyways, here comes in reader. Probably already knows his sour reputation. Regardless, maybe you're the poor soul who's his seatmate. If the crush is already established, he's constantly bothering you. Asking for stationaries like the entirety of his desk isn't covered by it already (he likes the miniscule interaction), taking your notebooks without your knowledge and sometimes even scribbling inside of them (its his horrid handwriting, he's just trying to help you with detailed notes), he comments on how "lame" your outfit is, asking about your social life, rolling his eyes when your response isn't exactly.. pleasing (he's actually a bit content with it. Perhaps you'll hang out with him more, instead?). You note the smell of alcohol trailing him a bit everytime you interact with him.

It's not easy for him, especially when you can't seem to keep up and look so queasy around him. Aeons, his heart is so twisted up and squeezed everytime he seems to be getting more distant from you, but he just has no idea how to convey his feelings. Not when he didn't even account for the fact he'll have a crush on anyone in the first place.

Anyways, timeskip!

You're probably a researcher of some sort, maybe not so well known. Let's just say for the sake of simplicity you're a researcher on Herta's space station. It's not too soon before he runs into you, probably after the whole mess at the station's been "cleaned up" regarding the curio and whatever. Maybe he doesn't leave right after that interaction with Screwellum, and he decides to, by his curiosity, take a look around once again before he leaves (certainly not because he's heard a familiar name thrown around a few times).

And there you are. In your little research-getup, professional vernacular, hair all neat. He's probably right behind you in an instant, and you turn around to look as the colleague you were talking to suddenly starts stuttering and becoming squeamish while looking behind you. There he is, in all his (cruel?) Glory. The infamous asshole who was your classmate.

But.. it's surprising how much more mellow he's become (at least towards you?). His hair are neatly tamed, his build is taller and more muscular than it was back then, but his attire is also quite tame (if not a little.. fancy?), compared to his brash taste back then. His eyes still seem to hold contempt, but more distantly so.

Veritas figures your mouth is agape and you're speechless considering the change in his countenance as of recent. He's also not yet come to terms with the fact that his heart still twists and squeezes whenever he sees that unsure look on your face. If you were made of clay, and if he could, he'd meld the most beautiful smile on your face with his craftful fingers. Alas, he resorts to tamer methods. At least he supposes he's a wiser man, now. He's more aware of different courting methods.

He asks about your station, your current life, family, friends, etc .. in a seemingly disinterested tone. There's a bit of resignation but hidden constrain in his voice, everytime you mention a "close friend" of yours or a colleague you worked with "closely". But he hasn't been berating you the way he would have back then. His fingers slightly constantly strain, folded behind his back, trying desperately not to taper towards you – there's stray strands of hair on your face. Your headpiece is off centre. Your pen is slanting in your pocket. Your shoulders are too tense. Your eyebrows are furrowed. your eyes look tired. Have your lips always been chapped? They were fine back then.. hold on.

While you stutter out useless formalities and pleasantries, Veritas' eyes scan you over. Time has weathered you well, in his opinion. The thin line of his pressed lips dont quite indicate that. He sighs almost grimly, shutting you up in an instant. He offers you to accompany him and possibly consider joining the Intelligentsia Guild (is it not worth a shot trying? It may be foolish, but he's a tad too desperate when it comes to you). You timidly mumble out a refusal, the words barely leaving your mouth. He nods.

Catching up makes his heart squeeze and rush all over the place. Topics he once tried to teach you back then (by.. VERY unsuccessful methods,) seem to be elementary knowledge to you now. You work more efficiently, hold yourself in a better, more confident way, and you seem to be smoothsailing in your life. Granted, it's technically the bare minimum, but its been so long since he talked to you. The chirp in your voice, the chuckle you let out every now and then despite your nervousness around him, has his heart in his throat. He can't bring himself to try and even "set you straight" by giving you (unwarranted) advice or piddling your achievements, there's a soft smile he's duly hiding behind his scorning face.

He offers you again, if you are unsure about joining the Guild, and discreetly mentions it being filled with imbeciles regardless when you deny again, pulling another string of laughter out of you. Hmph, you weren't so joyful when he made those statements back in high school.

Granted,you're obviously still not quite sure about Veritas' new look. He's still got his infamous reputation as an extremely strict teacher, the oddball with an alabastor head and having worked with the IPC, it's not a pleasant image per se, but it's heaps better than his reputation back at school. You politely make a joke about it, and he groans, earning another cautious, light chuckle from you. He has become different. You prattle on about the length of his hair, his refinement of speech, the difference in how he holds himself now.. it does leave him melting a tad bit inside. You noticed it? Hm. Clever little thing.

Of course, goodbyes are seldom sweet. He does manage to pry out your contact information once again, before. If you don't budge,he finds another way regardless. Your network of colleagues aren't exactly as strong as you might have thought. He remembers this information carefully.

Like the old days, maybe he'll manage to keep slipping notes into your reports and files. Perhaps pull a few strings back in the old days to keep you in his class, he'll slowly knot and twist a few strings to bring and budge you over to his little workplace. Sooner or later, you'll end up in his home. He's sure of it.

And just like the old days, his little seatmate is by his side once again. Care to put up with him for a bit longer? Probably forever, in this case.

[noneorother]

I broke down the hilarious amount of "Aziraphale tartans" so you don't have to.

I've been slowly going bonkers collecting the amount of times members of the cast/creators and fans of Good Omens over the years have referred to various things as "Aziraphale's tartan". Even on merchandise, I've seen wildly varying opinons about what pattern Aziraphale's tartan actually is. Your resident graphic designer has decided to sit down and just do the damned thing*. Exhibit A) Tartan Origin

Sarah Arnett posted this image to her instagram in 2019, having created "Heaven's dress tartan for the character Aziraphale". However, the only time I've actually seen this pattern used in good omens is in the season 2 announcement poster made by Mickey, and maybe on a pair of socks Aziraphale wears in season 1, (but I'm not convinced).

So here's what that looks like. Note I've rotated the original pattern 90 degrees clockwise in my final pattern (far right) for reasons that will become clear shortly.

Exhibit B) Aziraphale's Bowtie, Thermos, Notebook etc.

This is the tartan that Aziraphale actually wears for most of seasons 1 & 2.** It's a recoloured version of the Exhibit A), and has been rotated 90 degrees on it's bowtie application so that the darker bars run vertical, and not horizontal. The problem is, while the direction of the pattern on his accessories doesn't change, it does on the bowtie. You can see examples of the tartan going right OR left in both season 1 and 2.

Exhibit C) Aziraphale's Brown Bowtie...

This Tartan isn't just a trick of the light. For the first park bench scene in season 1, Aziraphale is wearing a version of his regular bowtie, recoloured in brown and rotated 90 degrees, so that it fits with the direction of the original Exhibit A) Tartan, but not with the direction of the tartan on his Exhibit B) regular bowties. This bowtie was made special, from cloth cut in the opposite direction.

Exhibit D) Aziraphale's Magical Cravat!

Now this is where it starts to get interesting! I haven't seen many people discuss Aziraphale's magician disguise from season 1, but his cravat actually has both Exhibit B) and Exhibit C) tartans to create a contrasting double sided tartan: the outward facing brown, and the hidden, inward facing blue (according to costumer, because of lack of enough brown).

Exhibit E) Saraqael's and Muriel's Tartan

Don't be fooled, Saraqael's and Muriel's tartan may look similar in colour to Aziraphale's, but when you pick it apart, it's got inverse colours, and mildly squished horizontal striping. If you note the orange boxes in each picture, you can see the ratio of the blue stripe to the vertical stripes in each tartan is different, while keeping the overall pattern and ratio in each direction the same. Exhibit E) has a square intersection. It's also usually woven much larger. This tartan also introduces a small sliver of hunter green into the beige/blue/purple palette that's been seen so far.

Exhibit F) Gabriel's Tartan Blanket

Like the others, Gabriel's S2E1 blanket is a variation on the original Heaven's Dress Tartan. It's got very squished horizontal striping though, and is woven even larger than the Saraqael Tartan. Most noticeably though, while it has the same grey vertical striping as Exhibit E) it's now got even more green in it, and the purple is gone almost entirely (save one line).

Exhibit F) Have a bonus Crowlee Tartan from the Season 1 body swap miracle that matches none of these.

It's silver silk though. Can I get a wahoo....?

__________________________________________ *Disclaimer: I am not Scottish, and definitely not an expert in tartan, just a tired graphic designer. If you want tartan expertise, you can go here (although I don't really agree with what they say about the main colour pattern) https://livebloggingmydescentintomadness.tumblr.com/post/189300035060/a-discourse-on-tartan

**In order to deduce colours, I've used high quality BTS footage or photography in neutral lighting whenever possible. Especially in season 2, colour grading and post processing of the final show make colour matching between scenes and/or seasons impossible.

[ur-local-wizard]

Eye of the Storm (Part 2)

Your desk partner leaves his notebook after class, and you’re struck by the beauty of its contents.

Here's part 2!! Sorry it took so long. So many versions of this were written. Still not entirely happy with this one, but oh well. (Not much fluff in this one either, mainly angst. And obviously no smut either.)

characters are college age, mattheo riddle x fem!reader, whipped!mattheo, use of y/n, slight obsession, stalking implied(?), i think that's it

w/c: 658

masterlist part 1 part 3

a/n: shout out to my editor, A <3

Reader's POV:

Slamming the door behind yourself, you stumbled into your dorm – bag sliding off your shoulders and falling to the floor. Grabbing Mattheo’s notebook, you walked to your bed and laid down, staring at the pages in your hands. After a little contemplation, you decided to open it. 

You were greeted with a compilation of sketches. Things like nature scenes, ornate architecture, people, etc. Some of the drawings were of things you recognize, some of things you didn’t. But what really caught your attention is the same drawing from earlier.

Upon closer inspection, you realized that Theo was right. It really was your eye. But not how you’re used to seeing it in the mirror. He captured more emotion, more life than what you normally notice. It was breathtaking… and a little intimidating; solely because of the amount of time and effort he must have put into all this. 

As you flipped through the notebook, the drawings progressed from objects to anatomy. It seemed to all be of a girl – side profiles, views from behind her, different individual features. For example, there’s a drawing of a girl in a library, the viewer facing her back. She’s reaching for a book high on a shelf. Her tote bag caught your eye, it was full of what looked like books and stationary. On the front was an intricate design of a rose.

You looked up, and the exact tote bag is hanging on a coat rack by the door. A quiet gasp escaped your lips, and you snapped the book shut. “Why is Mattheo drawing me of all people? How is he getting all these details about me in the first place?” You ask yourself, staring at the sketchbook in front of you. 

You stand up and slip some shoes on, grabbing the book again as you hurry out of your dorm. Time to get to the bottom of whatever the hell this is.

Mattheo’s POV:

Mattheo laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind was spinning – all he could think about was her. Her annoying cheerfulness, the way her smile lights up her face. It was infuriating; the way she burrowed herself into his thoughts so effortlessly, despite his best efforts to ignore her. But he just couldn’t help falling for her – couldn’t resist the magnetic pull she had on him. And the worst part? He hasn't told anyone. 

Deciding he’s had enough of sulking, Mattheo sat up and walked to his desk. Sketching her always helps to clear his mind. As he opened his bag, reaching in for his sketchbook, he discovered it wasn’t there. Panicking, he flipped it over, dumping out its contents, and still the sketchbook was nowhere to be seen. Searching for it, he slammed open every drawer he could find. Desk drawers, dresser drawers, his sock drawer at the bottom of his wardrobe; nothing was left unturned. The boy even looked under his bed. 

Still, it was absolutely nowhere.

A knock sounded on his dorm door, and his head snapped up in response. Standing up, he slowly approached it. His heart pounded so fast he could swear he heard the blood rushing through his veins. 

All he could think was, “Where's my sketchbook? Who the hell is at my door? Fuck- I’m shaking.” 

He cast one last look at his ruined bedroom before opening the door with trembling hands. Standing in the hallway, eyes wide with fear, was Y/n. He ran a hand through his messy hair, suddenly self-conscious. “Why is she here? Is she okay? She looks terrified… Am I the one scaring her?” His thoughts were jumbled, and he stared at her with concern for a few moments before stepping aside, holding the door open. 

“Please, come in. Sorry, my room is a mess… I lost something,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft with her. He was afraid of scaring her more. But as she passed him, he saw his sketchbook in her hands. Shit.

Hope you liked it!! As always, tell me if you want to be added to the tag list, and ty to everyone for all the amazing support! You have no idea how amazing it feels <3

Taglist: @ilovejamespottersomuch @mattyriddlesbitch

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

[beat-the-morning]

Stop hovering || Hozier x reader

Kinktober - Day 4: Facesitting

prompt list

Tags: facesitting, dom/sub undertones, nipple play

Summary: Andrew wants to try something new after you come back from a night out

Word count: 2k

A/N: I’m not doing tomorrow’s fic (breathplay) so don’t expect it. Will be doing the one for 6th but idk if I’ll get it done in time

||💙FIC UNDER CUT💙||

You looked at yourself in the full length mirror in the hallway, examining the state of your dress after a night out with your friends, a single lamp right in front of it as your only source of light. It was almost perfect, save for the wet patch at the top of it that had your drunk friend and their spilled drink to blame, somehow making you the one that smelled the most like alcohol despite being the designated driver for the night. You shrugged it off, telling yourself that you’d clean it up in the morning while you took it off and carried it with you in your arm as you went upstairs, you made your way to the bathroom to take your makeup off, finding the light on, shining from the crack at the bottom of the door and the sound of running water coming from inside.

“Andrew?” You knocked loudly on the door. You’d assumed that your boyfriend would be asleep by now, seeing as it was almost three in the morning, but the two of you lived alone in his house in the countryside, so it could only be him.

The sound of water stopped, you heard the sound of wet footsteps approaching the door and unlocking it. “Oh, hi baby.” He said with a smile, his hair damp, water droplets running down his chest and stomach, collecting at the towel he had wrapped around his lower waist. “I thought you’d come back later.”

“Why are you in the shower in the middle of the night?” You asked, taking in his flustered expression.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He said plainly.

“And you thought a shower would help?”

“Oh, no,” he chuckled at your question, a sultry smile remaining on his face as he spoke. “But what I did before the shower usually does.”

You raised an eyebrow, breaking into soft laughter as you realised what he was implying. “And why didn’t you fall asleep after that, then?” You teased.

“I didn’t realise it’d shoot that far… got up to my chest hair and the tissues didn’t feel clean enough.” He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about the fact that he’d accidentally come on his own chest.

“If you’d waited a bit I could’ve helped and you wouldn’t have made a mess.”

“I didn’t know if you’d be drunk or not, and you know I don’t like to do things when you’re the only one that’s drunk.” He raised his hand from his waist where he was holding the towel and caressed your cheek, the sultry smile remaining. “You aren’t drunk though.”

“I’m not, I was the designated driver tonight.” You leaned into his touch, reaching out to pull him down to your level and kissing him lovingly.

“Lucky me, then.”

“Depends on what you’re thinking of doing.”

“Don’t worry about that right now, just get comfortable, I’ll be in our bed waiting for you.” He whispered, kissing you for a second before leaving to the bedroom.

You finally entered the bathroom, taking off your makeup, letting your hair free and quickly doing your quicker nighttime skincare routine since something was telling you that you’d be too exhausted to do it after whatever Andrew had planned for tonight. You freshened up, looking at yourself in the mirror and making sure you looked as cute as you could after a night out, then headed to your bedroom.

The space was dimly lit by the lamps at the bedside tables on each side of the bed, you looked around it, it was slightly messy with some clothes scattered on the floor, but you liked it, it was cozy. You spotted Andrew’s guitar on the floor next to his side of the bed, he must’ve brought it in here while you were out, since it wasn’t there when you left with your friends, his lyric notebook, old and practically bursting with the amount of extra pages he’d added on to it through the years, sat opened on the bedside table, words scribbled onto it that you couldn’t make out. Andrew was sitting on the bed dressed in just a pair of Calvin Klein boxers, looking at something in his phone, you finally stepped into the light from your lamp on your side of the bed, he smiled when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. He left his phone on top of his notebook, turning to look at you, eyes full of love and lust.

“There you are,” he said as you crawled over to him, pulling you into his arms the moment he could reach you.

“You’ve been writing something?” You asked, pointing towards the guitar with your eyes.

“Hm,” he smiled, “I have, yeah, I’ll show you when it’s a bit more polished.”

“Can’t wait.” You said sincerely, leaning in to kiss his lips.

He kissed back hungrily, throwing you onto your back on the mattress with a force that you had now become acquainted with, you giggled softly as you landed while his hands explored your body like it was his first time ever touching you. He lightly bit into your lip, asking for entrance, which you granted. You parted your lips, his tongue darting into your mouth in that same second, he completely dominated the kiss, and you let him, your hands tangled in his curls, pulling him impossibly closer to you. His hands reached behind your back, quickly undoing your bra and throwing it somewhere in the room, he played with your breasts, squeezing them as he pulled away from the kiss and moved to your neck, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses all the way down to your chest. He pulled your right nipple into his mouth, making you gasp at the sensation, he sucked gently, licking and teasing as his hand played with your other one. After a while, he changed his attention to your left breast, giving it the same treatment as he did the other one. “Fuck! Andrew!” You moaned loudly, your hands still in his hair, pulling it ever so slightly without you realising. He smiled at your moans, pulling away after a second, leaving both your nipples incredibly sensitive.

“I wanna try something new today, baby,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed it. “Think you’d be up for it?”

“W-what is it?” You asked, your voice shaky with need.

“Can you sit on my face?” He asked, eyes dark with lust. “Please.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitated for a second, “what if I accidentally smother you or something?”

He kissed your collarbone, “won’t happen,” he assured you with a warm smile, “but if it does I’ll die a very, very happy man.”

“Andy!” You whined, trying to suppress a laugh, “I’m serious, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I’m not a porcelain doll, baby, I’ll be fine.” He peppered kisses over your neck, nuzzling his face into your skin. “Please?” He insisted.

Your resolve crumbled as you looked into his eyes, his pupils wide from arousal and his lips shining with his own saliva. “Okay,” you agreed softly. “But if you need me to stop, tap out or throw me off you or something, okay?”

“Of course, baby.” He kissed your neck one last time before moving to lay on his back. “Take a seat.” He said, a smirk plastered on his face.

You playfully rolled your eyes, moving over to straddle his face, your pussy hovering just above his mouth, teasing him. You carefully lowered yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hand finding home on your hips. His tongue darted out, parting your folds just enough to make you whine, you lowered yourself a bit more, still not fully seated on his face. Then he started to lick, every movement of his tongue driving you wild, but still, you hovered over him. After a few more licks, Andrew had finally had enough of you not fully seating on him. “Stop fuckin’ hovering and sit!” He demanded, pulling you down onto his face, his nose hitting your clit and making you moan loudly. Andrew hummed contently, slowly shaking his head so as to bury himself further in you, rubbing your bundle of nerves with the tip of his nose in the process, his tongue darted out again, entering you. You moaned, louder this time, your hands moving to hold the headboard, he hummed again, taking a deep breath and savouring the feeling of you fully seated on his face.

He lightly smacked your ass, a silent order for you to move your hips and grind on his face, and, as always, you obey without question, slowly moving your hips until you find a comfortable flow, small moans and whimpers leaving your mouth as he licks and hums to your rhythm. You could feel him swallow your essence every so often, the noises coming from the both of you were obscene and loud, his hands snaked up your body, his left squeezed your breast roughly while his right reached to grab your hair, pulling it back and making the rest of your head follow, your face now looking up at the ceiling as you screamed in pleasure.

You felt the all-familiar twist of bliss in your abdomen, your hips becoming erratic in their movement as you neared your climax. You had never been talkative during sex, this was no exception, a delightful, as Andrew described it, combination of moans, whimpers and whines was all you could manage to utter in your euphoric state, with the occasional begging thrown in when Andrew would get too wild with edging or overstimulation, you had never minded, he was always talking anyway, even when eating you out he’d take a small pause sometimes to say something to you. But today he couldn’t speak, all the sounds, all the moans, were yours, he was in heaven, every noise coming from you like celestial music. He let go of your hair and breast, his hands moving to your hips again. You looked down at him, his eyes were closed in pure bliss as you moved your hips, his moans muffled by your body, you could see the slight shine of your arousal on his face every time your hips moved back slightly, he was angelic, you wondered if he thought the same of you when he fucked you.

He opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours, you could feel him smiling as he looked at you, he moved his tongue more, shaking his head and humming softly to bring you to climax, you felt the coil in your stomach getting tighter as your moans became more high-pitched. Then it snapped, your hips twitching erratically as you came on his face. You moved until the wave of ecstasy subsided, your breathing shaky and irregular and your heart beating rapidly from the intensity of your orgasm. You moved your leg over his head once more, sitting back on the bed after being on his face for so long, he had a crooked smile on his face as he sat up and reached out to hold your face and kiss you once more.

You melted into the kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he gently guided you to lay down. Andrew pulled away from the kiss, laying next to you and holding you in his arms with your head on his chest. “D’you like that, baby?” He asked, his face buried in your hair as he took in your scent.

“Yeah,” you mumbled softly, already feeling the tiredness calling you to sleep.

“Good,” he kissed your head. “Go to sleep, darling, you’re exhausted.”

You hummed in response, your eyes already closed since you didn’t bother opening them after he kissed you. A sound similar to “goodnight” came from your lips, you were too tired to speak.

“Goodnight, my sweet.” Andrew whispered back, his fingers running along your hair, and softly lulling you to sleep. Your breathing evened, he smiled, following behind you not long after

[uplatterme]

Sit Still, Look Pretty.

a/n: i don’t think the doll fetish is a joke anymore *cries*

cw: sub!albedo, dom!reader, amab!reader (gender-neutral terms and pronouns | dollification, mirror sex, slight feminization, orgasm delay/denial

The alchemist stands there, observing his surroundings as he waits for you to get your things. Your room is like any other, quite simplistic besides the few paintings that decorated the walls, paintings that he’d given you as presents.

He’s been here multiple times and usually, everything remains the same. The stack of books on your desk, the mint flower you keep by the window, your sword which always rested laying on your chair.

Usually, is the keyword here.

Now, he finds himself gazing up on one of the shelves, where a doll sits elegantly on a tiny chair.

It’s oddly…human-like.

“I found last week’s reports that you were looking for.” You return to the room, the notebook in your hands.

He takes it from you and checks, it’s just what he needs.

And while he doesn’t really require anything else, his thoughts are captivated by the expensive-looking doll. So, he asks.

Your face turns into worry, although it soon is replaced by a gleeful smile. He wonders what the reason for this is.

“That, right.” He hears you chuckle.

“I happened to get it from a traveling merchant. It’s quite pretty, isn’t it?”

He feels as if there is something else you aren’t telling him.

“How much was it?” Albedo questions.

“Including the clothes? Well, it’s about…”

Once Albedo hears of the amount, he can’t help but furrow his eyebrows from your purchase.

He hears you laugh again, your eyes looking as bright as they can.

“Don’t you find them appealing, Albedo? Lifeless forms whose purpose is nothing but to sit pretty.”

“I suppose.” The alchemist answers.

He really doesn’t.

“I just think it’s neat. Having no other choice but to obey their owners, wear dresses whether they like it or not, pose in whichever way they’re directed to…” You describe freely, grabbing the doll and placing it in his hands.

“And you know what the best part of it is?” Albedo sees your face lighten up.

He maintains his expressionless face, even if he’s taken aback by how close your face is to him, gazing into your spellbinding eyes.

“What?”

“They do it all with a smile.”

Needless to say, Albedo’s thoughts had become occupied since then.

He tells himself that he shouldn’t bother with it this much. 

Your liking of dolls is just like any other hobby, isn’t it? It’s like how Lisa is with her books, obsessive when they aren’t handled properly or returned within the given time.

Still, he sighs. He does receive your tender touch from time to time, but there’s something else that Albedo wants…or needs.

“Which do you think suits her better?”

Albedo snaps out of his thinking to see you holding two dresses right in front of his face.

He absent-mindedly chose the one on the left, and you smile at his choice. 

“Cute.” You say.

He feels flustered despite knowing that the compliment wasn’t for him. It was for that doll.

The only thing he can do is watch you pamper it, brushing its hair and using those fingers of yours to undress it and change it into a new outfit. 

He sits there, an uncomfortable emotion in his chest as he hears you utter praises for something that doesn’t even move.

“I’m sorry, I must excuse myself.” Albedo stands up from his seat to leave, unable to bear your fondness for the doll.

He needs to do something.

The door to your house creaks in as you unlock it. You hum a tune, stretching your arms, a bit tired from today’s schedule.

You take off your coat, hanging it on the wall. You rethink if there’s something else you have to do before going to bed.

“Ah, my mint flower. I haven’t watered it yet.” You say out loud.

With the glass of water in your hand, you step into your bedroom.

“Archons, you scared me!” You sigh, seeing the alchemist sitting on your bed.

While he’s the only other person who has a key to your house, he’s never been the one to visit of his own accord.

You await his response.

The alchemist stays still and unresponsive, staring past you as if there’s something that you’re not seeing.

“Albedo? Are you alright?” You question the man again, only to receive nothing.

Worried, you come up closer to him.

His eyes looked empty and his breathing was…quiet. There’s nothing wrong with him physically. No signs of any injuries that may hinder his talking nor any sign of trauma to his head.

He looks perfect, actually. And now that you take a look closer, you can see pink powder dusting his cheeks.

Albedo has always been that way. Beauty and brains, truly a perfect mix

You direct his face to yours, wanting him to look at you as you speak.

Albedo hasn’t blinked throughout this whole ordeal.

You get a hold of his chin and bring his lips to yours, wondering if that’ll execute a reaction.

Unfortunately, no results are to be seen.

He doesn’t open his mouth when you kiss him, confusing you since he usually does.

It’s as if Albedo has no sentience. A lifeless being, somewhat similar to that of a statue that served no other use but to be stared at.

…

No. 

You deny your thoughts.

Surely, Albedo isn’t doing what you think he’s doing, right?

You trace your fingers on his thighs, its smoothness surprising you. Almost as if it were made from porcelain, you observe.

“Albedo, you cannot do this to me.” You scold him, each second passing by with him in this state is not good for your heart.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” You stare at him, wanting to see if he’ll say anything.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself if things get too far.” You admit, caressing his emotionless face.

Extraordinary.

“To think you would be that jealous of a doll. It’s adorable, my love.” It’s too good to be true, you think. Albedo presents himself as if he is one too, just so he can garner your attention.

He’s always been smart and reckless like this. He knows this will work. Now, to see how far this ambitiousness will push him…

“Well, a new doll needs a new outfit.” You say to him.

Albedo tenses up at your words.

This is proving to be much more difficult than he expected. Your lingering touch makes him want to buckle to his knees. The kiss on his lips, that led to the core in his chest tightening up.

Has he always been that soft? 

Only having a limited field of vision, he cannot see what you’re doing. But from what it sounded, you were likely looking for something to put him in.

“Ah! Here it is!” You bring the dress to his eyes and he immediately regrets playing this role. This is a bit…embarrassing.

“This was supposed to be a gift for Sucrose’s birthday, but I’m sure you’d do a better job modeling this than her.” You explain.

It was getting difficult to maintain his quiet breathing, especially when you ogled his body as you took off the clothes that he has now. He wants to tell you that you should look away, that he can do it in your stead.

However, he ignores it. He ignores the embarrassment and the warmth rushing up to his cheeks. 

“Your white underwear suits you, Albedo. Although, don’t dolls have no need for undergarments?”

Your voice sends a chill to his spine. He sits there helpless under your fingers, awaiting what you’ll do next to him.

“You’re so perfect, my doll.” Albedo bites back the need to whine.

“Should I set up a mirror so you can see?”

He stares at himself through the mirror, the fluffy dress reaching just above his knee. It’s not of Monstadt creation, that’s for sure. Perhaps it’s a dress from Fontaine?

“Do you like it?” He watches you brush his hair.

“You know, I’ve always been amazed at how gorgeous you are. To think I’m this lucky to own you…I’ll make sure to take good care of you, dear.”

Albedo wants to bury himself underground. He’s enjoying this more than he should be.

It’s strange. He doesn’t get why he’s enjoying this at all. Isn’t his sole purpose to be that of living as a human? Why would he succumb to regressing himself like this?

Your arms envelop his body, your hands traveling on top of the fabric. 

They’re warm.

Albedo seethes when he feels you tug his nipple. No talking, he has to remind himself, even if you fondle his body like this without warning.

His throat is itching for something, a word, or any kind of sound. He hasn’t said a single thing since he stepped into your abode. 

He can do it, he reassures himself.

“My doll isn’t giving up this early, no?” You whisper directly to his ears.

Your fingers slip under the dress and he’s forced to be reminded that you’d taken off his underwear earlier. No! If you touch there, he’ll surely—

“Hmm…” 

Panic settles on his face when the noise unconsciously slips out of him.

“Is my doll malfunctioning? That’s a shame. I thought you were perfect. Do I have to throw you out already?” 

No, no… He stresses.

Give him one more chance! He pleads in his head.

Your thumb rubs the slit of his tip, playing with the already oozing precum. His thighs slightly tremble and he’s begging you to not notice it. He can’t —It’s physically impossible for him to stay still!

Your fingers now move to his shaft, stroking his cock slowly and giving him the right pace that he needs.

Albedo’s mind is getting hazy. It feels so damn good, he’s this close to moaning loudly if not for the fear that he’ll disappoint you.

He bites the inside of his cheek, his eyelids shutting close every now and then.

Your pace hastens, each stroke getting rougher and faster. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold in his scream when he cums. 

“Mmgh–”

His breaths are getting heavier and deeper, his cock ready to burst at any second. 

And then he feels your grip tighten. 

You stop your movement, letting his worry go to waste. It’s painful, being stopped when you’re so close to reaching your high. Still, this is better. He can’t imagine what he would do if he actually did crumble beneath your hands.

Albedo shivers when he feels you touch his tip again, replicating the same movements you had done earlier. His thighs are sticky, the insides of the dress damp and warm. 

The alchemist breathes. Coming to a conclusion that he’ll make less of a noise this way. He hears the way it squelches with each stroke, the noise leaving him greatly humiliated.

His cock aches for a release, the emotionless facade that he wears slowly shattering as he gets closer to an orgasm.

He bit down on his lip, ready to contain the noise, when you immediately stopped. His cock twitching from being suddenly released from the friction.

This happens five more times.

Albedo can feel his sanity going away. He needs to cum. Let him, please. He’s been doing so well, hasn’t he?

His legs have stopped shaking, already used to the same torture that you keep putting him under.

He wants it already, impatient at how long he thinks you’ll keep doing this. Albedo wants it to be all over, he’ll do anything. He’ll suck you off with his mouth if you want, no matter if it ends up with him choking at the end.

How long will he have to bear this?

“You really don’t get it, do you?” You ask the worn-out alchemist.

“You’re already perfect, Albedo. But isn’t there something you’re forgetting?”

What?

“I’ve given you so many chances to guess, and yet you still won’t remember?”

Your fingers cup his chin, and his mind relishes at the fact that he could forget about the one thing you told him that you enjoyed the most.

“Smile for me, doll.”

Albedo’s a wreck as he gets his insides wrecked with your length. His body every now and then writhes as he lets you handle his body even if you push inside him so far that he can feel it inside his guts.

He’s not allowed to move. He’s a doll, he keeps repeating to himself.

The smile on his face looks whorish instead of being elegant. 

He doesn’t know whether it’s because of the mirror but seeing you penetrate him, his hole opening up graciously for you has the poor alchemist wanting to scream. But since he can’t, his emotions overwhelm him and tears start flowing down his cheeks.

Being used like this, as if he’s just some object to be thrown around sends a thrill in his head. Perhaps it’s because of the fact that he would have been, if things didn’t go his way. 

Albedo ejaculates on the bed, the dress sticky with his cum. 

You don’t stop, his walls being mercilessly pounded through, wanting to see how far his limit is until he finally begs of you to stop.

Well, you did warn him before, didn’t you?

His body is weightless in your arms, using his body as if it’s your personal sex doll, you grab him by the sides of his waist, thrusting and hitting his sensitive spot each time.

He loves it.

He’s yours and you have every right to decide what he can and cannot do.

He won’t mind.

Not at all.

[wileys-russo]

I heard that Mary is obsessed with to do lists on her days off, imagine her reaction to the reader constantly messing with her lists like adding her own name to the to do list!

to do list II m.earps

you exhaled deeply as your body slowly started to awaken, a high pitched grunt left your lips as you stretched your limbs out against the soft silk sheets of your bed, settling back into them and blinking a few times.

you frowned when there wasn't a body still in bed beside you, instead only half a neatly made bed which had you rolling your eyes at your girlfriends odd habits. you adored her regardless though which is why a grumpy mood set in that you'd been deprived of a lay in with her on your day off.

but not wanting to waste the day away in bed if you were doomed to be alone you weren't long to get up, making your half of the bed and donning it with the ridiculous amount of throw pillows you loved and mary always hated, but she found it near impossible to say no to you at times.

nodding satisfied with your work you padded off to the bathroom. washing your face and doing your morning skincare, you exhaled through your nose as you were now much more awake.

it didn't surprise you to make your way downstairs and see your girlfriends back turned to you as she hunched over the dining table, furiously scribbling something down. "good morning baby." you settled behind her, arms draping over her shoulders and tucking your face into her neck.

"hello sleepyhead." mary smiled, pushing away her notebook and intertwining her hands with yours, pressing a few gentle kisses to your knuckles. "it's nine thirty mary that is not a sleep in!" you protested with a laugh, your girlfriend squirming as your breath tickled her neck.

"we're normally up by seven love. sounds like a sleep in to me!" she teased, scooting her chair back and nudging you with her shoulder as you rounded her and settled yourself on her lap. the two of you sat wrapped up together in silence, your girlfriends hands gently slipping up your top and tracing lines across your back as yours tangled in her mane of hair, scratching lightly at her scalp.

you pulled away to smile down at her affectionately, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers. you sighed in pleasure as her tongue invaded your mouth, tightening the grip you had on her hair as the two of you made out for a moment before your girlfriend gently pushed at your chest far sooner than you’d have liked.

"right. up we get! things to be done." mary announced as you sighed, head falling to her shoulder as you knew what this meant. "it's the first thursday of the month, isn't it?" you groaned, feeling her nod and tap your back a few times as you huffed, standing up and off of her.

"where's your stupid list then?" you rolled your eyes, following her into the kitchen and pulling yourself up and onto the counter. the first thursday of every month mary insisted the two of you do a deep clean of the entire house, despite how tidy the two of you kept it on the day to day.

"they are not stupid!" mary scolded with a scowl, sticking the lists up on the fridge as you rolled your eyes when she wasn't looking. "babe why have we got one each!" you protested noticing your individual list beside hers.

"divide and conquer my love." mary smiled as you threw your head back with a loud groan, hopping down and venturing over to the fridge. "it's our day off mary honestly i know you love your lists but this is overkill!" you scoffed as your eyes raked down your list of assigned tasks.

"it's one day of the month, we have monday off where we can relax and be lazy all day. today we will be productive!" you jumped as her hand smacked your bum with a cheeky grin, handing you a pen.

"you're lucky i'm blinded by your beauty or else i'd have left you the first time you pulled out your bloody lists." you sighed dramatically, crossing your arms and squinting lightly as you read through your assigned tasks.

"charming as ever darling." she kissed your cheek and you shook your head with a smile as she ticked a few things off your list.

"wake up, have a good morning kiss and a cuddle, moan about the lists. very funny!" you gave her a playful glare as she only grinned, tapping your next task with her pen.

"i know i am. now put your glasses on or you'll give yourself a headache!" "mmm but i don't see that on my list babe?"

~

you sighed as you ticked another couple of tasks off your list, which thankfully was growing shorter and shorter as the day seemed to fly past, the hours feeling like minutes.

your patience was also wearing thing, hardly having seen mary all day besides a quick kiss as you'd glance past one another, flitting from room to room and task to task, the house filled with music at least to spare silence.

looking to your left and seeing mary was also narrowing down her own list, and then turning and seeing her notebook on the counter an idea popped into your mind and a smile curled onto your lips. ripping out a piece of paper you scribbled down her existing list, adding a few new tasks of your own as you did, replacing her list with yours.

she must have been busy as it wasn't for another forty minutes until she'd seemingly noticed your little changes. "baby!" you looked up from the pile of washing you were sorting at your girlfriends calls for you, standing from the bed and jogging downstairs.

"yes?"

"why does my list now tell me i need to remove the stick from up my ass?" mary asked, lips pursed into a thin line of disapproval as your own curled into a grin of amusement.

"no idea love, guess you better do it quick though. daylights fading!" you winked, returning quickly upstairs before you could give her the chance to yell at you.

another hour passed, the house filled with a soft golden sunlight of the afternoon shifting over slowly into the evening, the sun starting to duck away behind the horizon.

you exhaled heavily as you ticked off the final task on your list, body just as sore as if you'd trained anyway. glancing over to marys list you ran your finger down the page, tapping on it and making your way to where you knew she'd be.

you stepped into her office, seeing the blonde heavily focused on the desktop in front of her, clicking away at something for her clothing brand which seemed to be the approval or disapproval of some new samples.

"hello." you mumbled into her neck, hugging her tightly from behind. "hi stranger." mary chuckled, clicking out of her browser and shutting down the computer, tapping your leg as you let go of her and she pushed back her chair, standing to her feet and stretching.

"i'm fucking wrecked." you sighed, wrapping around her and breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume, allowing it to drown you in a sea of comfort as her arms drew you in even closer.

"i know, and i know you hate my lists but i appreciate that you always follow them." mary mumbled into your hair. "like i have a choice." you smiled into her skin as she flicked your ear playfully.

"you still have one thing left on your list though." you pulled away from her as your girlfriend raised a curious eyebrow, almost certain that she'd done all of her tasks. with a smile you handed her the list, watching her eyes scan the words.

"and why is your name at the bottom of my list baby?" mary questioned, smirk tugging at her lips as she knew why. "cause i'm the last thing you need to do, obviously." you replied with a grin of your own, watching as mary shook her head, crumpling up the list in her hand and tossing it over her shoulder, advancing toward you with purpose.

"well, you know i am a stickler for doing what my lists tell me."

[lexisecretaccx]

A+ Student pt. 1

Other parts on my Masterlist!

(Fem Reader, Both Matt and Chris, they’re both ur teachers, suggestive, set in school, nothing too much yet😉 not proofread so idk if there’s mistakes sorry! everyone is 18+!)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

I hate this lecture, I sit almost at the front and the boys behind me always laugh at me every time I raise my hand or do anything. There’s only three girls in this whole lecture, including me. They’re all friends with eachother but I have nobody in here who likes me.

The only reason I’m not dropping the course is because my teacher, Professor Sturniolo is drop dead gorgeous. I’m not being dramatic, his bright blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glasses he keeps rested on his nose. His sharp cheekbones, the jawline which is sometimes prickled with stubble. His hair is a dark brown colour, slightly curly sometimes, depends if it’s been raining or not.

He wear either these button up shirts, the first 3 buttons undone and a vest underneath or tight shirts, long sleeved, short sleeved. You name it. He always pairs the outfit with a silver chain dangling from around his neck. To say he is hot is an understatement.

The main reason I like him, (except his perfect features.) is the fact that he listens to what I have to say, I think I’m the only one who takes this course seriously. I understand English is a pretty boring subject to some but I enjoy it.

“She’s not listening to the lecture for once.” I hear one of the boys whisper behind me, I turn slightly and look at them through the corner of my eye. Professor Sturniolo was slightly late today so some other teacher came in to teach while we waited for him, I just can’t focus if he’s not the one teaching me.

All of a sudden the door flies open, “sorry guys I had a flat tire.” He spoke breathlessly as he walked over to the desk, the stand in teacher says his goodbyes and walking out the class. His hair is messy from the wind and it’s slightly wet due to the rain, his button up shirt fully unbuttoned, revealing the white vest underneath, and the chain in the same place as usual.

His sleeves are rolled up slightly revealing the tattoos on his arm. “Where did Professor Michaels get up to in the book?” He asks the class, everyone shrugs and he looks to me, “y/n?” He asks me and I break out of my daydream, “hm?” I say. He chuckles softly, “where did he get to in the book? What page?” He repeats himself.

I wasn’t paying attention to anything he had said, I was too deep in thought. “Oh, I wasn’t paying attention to him sorry.” I awkwardly laugh, luckily he laughed too, “that’s not like you at all,” he smiles, “but thanks for the honesty.” He nods, “you know what, there’s only 20 minutes left so just reread over notes or something. But first did you all do your homework?” Groans and sighs come from the class behind me, signalling that they didn’t.

“Come on guys it’s easy work I’m setting! Ok who has done it?” I raise my hand, his eyes flick to me quickly and I notice the corner of his mouth raise, two other boys raise their hands. He looks at them and his eyebrows raise before he smiles at the boys.

He walks up the lecture room steps slightly and picks up my homework from infront of me, he looks down at me and smiles, he briefly rests his hand on my shoulder slightly. “Good girl.” He whispers before patting my shoulder and walking up to the boys to collect theirs.

Butterfly’s erupt in my stomach from his words, he called me a good girl, that shouldn’t have caused me to subconsciously squeeze my thighs together. I stop myself and swallow harshly to try and brush off my reaction.

He walks back down to his desk and sets the small amount of homework down infront of him to mark. I pull out my notebook to check my notes and I look at him marking the homework, he’s smiling contently and his hand is gripping the pen gently, with the other hand his ring covered fingers flip over the page.

He looks up at me and nods at me before looking back down at the homework. The end of the lecture closes in as we only have 5 minutes left, he walks up to my desk and places my homework down infront of me, 99% is written at the top with a little smiley face next to it, I chuckle softly.

I flip over the page and there’s something written in the corner, speak to me after class, you aren’t in trouble. I look at it with confusion, “what the fuck I got 12%? I actually studied a bit for this stupid homework.” I hear one of the boys yell, “fuck this class man.” He adds. “If I didn’t have something to do after this lecture I’d tell you to stay behind, watch your mouth kid.” Professor Sturniolo spoke through gritted teeth.

What does he have to do? He told me to stay behind after class, but I’m not in trouble so what could it be?

The bell rings and everyone starts packing away and leaving.. except me, I neaten my notes since they’re scattered on the desk infront of me and I stay seated. After everyone left, Professor Sturniolo walked up to my desk and grabbed the chair from the desk infront and sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the bit where you usually lean your back on.

“I know I’m not in trouble but why am I staying behind?” I nervously ask him, fidgeting with my nails. “You’re a great student, probably the best in my class y/n,” he starts to say, smiling softly. “I was wondering if you would help Thomas in some of the lessons. If he doesn’t pass this semester he’ll have to be dropped from the school.”

“Thomas? The quiet kid? I didn’t know he was failing this class.” I reply, “but I’ll help him in the lectures, he can come sit by me.” I smile back at him, “thank you, that’s not the only reason I wanted you to stay behind though.” He smirks slightly.

“Oh? What’s up Profe-” he shushes me, “Call me Matt, Professor Sturniolo is too formal.” He chuckles, I nod before also laughing. “Okay, Matt.. why do you want me to stay here?” I ask, leaning my cheek on my hand.

He swallows nervously and looks at the clock on the wall, “you got flustered.” He spoke. I tilt my head in confusion until I realise what he’s talking about and my cheeks flush red. “Uh..” I stutter. “It’s ok.” He nods at me smirking, I feel his hand on my knee from the other side of the desk. My leg tenses up by the sudden touch.

“I said what I said y/n, you are a good girl. You always listen and answer questions the others fail to answer, and you always pay attention to me.” I feel a shift in the air as a tension builds around us, I nod softly. “Thank you.” I speak, not knowing what to say entirely.

He chuckles, “your overall grade for this semester is gonna be an A.. don’t tell the other students I told you yours yet.. ok?” He leans in and looks into my eyes with a stare I don’t recognise. The sexual tension grows, “why an A? I thought I was A+ grade? I was last semester.” I say confused. “You just haven’t done as well as last semester, you’ve still done so well and I’m proud but you could improve.” He smiles.

“I’m really trying my hardest I don’t think I can improve, what could I do to bump my grade up just slightly, like extra credit?” I ask in a needy tone, I need to get an A+ I promised my mom I’d get all A+ in English since she knows I’m great at it.

“What are you willing to do?” He asks, this time in a lower tone and he leans in slightly. “Anything!” I nod, “I really need an A+ I promised my mom I would.” I lean in and smile innocently. “You’d do anything?” Matts eyes flick to my mouth and back up to my eyes.

The realisation hits me and I lean back quickly, not realising how close we actually got. I look at him with an eyebrow raised slightly, “were you implying that..” I breathe in nervously. “That I..” I stutter. “Hey y/n calm down it’s ok.” He grabs my hand and nods reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I thought that it was something you would want.. I know it’s wrong I’m sorry.” He studies my face.

I want to kiss him and touch him in places others haven’t even seen, but it’s wrong. He’s my professor, yes it’s wrong but not illegal. I’m 18. “I do want it.” I whisper, looking down at my lap. He lifts my chin with his finger, “do you?” He smirks, standing up from his seated position.

I nod, “yes.” I smile up at him. “Good girl.” He whispers, walking around to the side of my seat, “the next lecture is starting soon, but take this.” He grabs my pen from the desk and starts to scribble on a spare piece of paper. I look down at it to see he’s writing his number. After he wrote that he added, Text me :)

He pats my shoulder and starts to walk to the front of the class, I pack away my stuff, making sure to keep the little note safe. I can’t believe that something I’d been fantasising about is actually happening? I can’t let anyone know no matter how much I want to.

I walk down to the front of the class, giving a flirty wave to Professor Sturniolo before leaving the classroom. I pull out my phone and add in the number to a contact, “Matt” I named it. My next class is gym class. They always make us do gym with a male teacher, but today we have a new one apparently. “I’m telling you him and Professor Sturniolo are identical!” A boy says to his friend as he walks out of the gym class.

Identical? I remember Matt mentioning to the class that he’s a triplet but I didn’t know one of them was a teacher too. I walk into the locker room and change into my vest and very short booty shorts. It’s the only shorts I like and I haven’t been dresscoded for them, even though my ass is practically on show.

I walk into the gym class and sit down on the bench next to my only real friend, Lizzy. “Hey you okay?” She asks me as I walk over, “yeah why!” I say happily. “You just actually seem happy for once it’s strange but it’s also good!” She smiles at me. “Do you find Professor Sturniolo attractive?” I ask her randomly, I just wanna know if I’m the only one who’s so besotted with him.

“Meh, I don’t have him as a teacher, some girls like him but I don’t, he’s not my type though.” She shrugs, “who is your type?” I ask her, she shrugs again, “I don’t know but I just don’t find him hot.” She swallows harshly. My attention gets taken from her as the new teacher walks in.

He’s identical to Matt, but there’s a difference between them, this guy doesn’t have glasses or stubble. He scans the room, most the girls aren’t in gym class today I don’t know why. “Small class huh?” He chuckles, “it’s usually bigger some people just aren’t present.” I speak up. He instantly turns his head to face me.

We make eye contact, butterflies fill my stomach, he does look like Matt that’s why. “Oh okay thanks.” He smiles at me, “gather around y’all.” He calls to the class and we all oblige. “We’re gonna be doing dodgeball today, something simple.” He nods and again his eyes lock with mine briefly.

He clears his throat before we set up the two zones, it starts, me and Lizzy are on the same side. Mr Sturniolo starts to throw the dodgeballs to us, “what’s the betting she’s gonna be an A+ student in this class aswell.” A girl on my side whispers to her friend, “I think she fucks the teachers to get those grades!” The other one replies, they both laugh but I brush it off. As I’m throwing the dodgeballs at the other team one of the girls snatches the dodgeball out of my hand.

“Fuck off.” I say to her, “so scary..” She laughs back. I pick up a dodgeball and launch it at her, it smacks right into her nose and she falls to the ground. “Oh my god you bitch!” Her friend spoke to me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t expect it to hit her face!” I reply back, “Sir!” Her friend calls over Mr Sturniolo, I step back slightly and bump into someone, he turns me around by my shoulders and looks down at me. I had just walked back into Mr Sturniolo, “sorry.” I whisper, he pats my shoulders and let’s go of them, just how Matt does.

“What’s happened?” He looks down to Rachel lying on the ground holding her nose, “Rachel was be-” I go to speak but am cut off by her friend “y/n launched the dodgeball at Rachel’s face for no reason! She’s not even on the opposing team!” Her friend Jess leans down and helps Rachel up. “Take her to the nurse or something.” He spoke to Jess before shrugging. “I’ll talk with you after class okay?” He nodded to me.

I sigh, “okay.” I continue the game, less enthusiastic this time. The bell rings and we all go into the locker room to change back into our clothes, “I’ll talk to you later yeah?” Lizzy says to me and I nod, grabbing my bag and heading back into the gym class.

He’s sat on the bench on his phone, “hey Mr Sturniolo.” I say, his head flicks up to me and he smiles, putting his phone down next to him. “Call me Chris, please.” He pats the bench next to him for me to sit.

I sit down, “I’m sorry, she was being rude to me and assuming stuff, and I got mad I shouldn’t have done that.” I say sighing. “It’s okay, I heard her. She’s a bit dramatic if you ask me.” He laughs, “she’s taking the drama course I think.” I also laugh.

“I’m glad you actually understand and are apologetic for what you did though..” He smiles at me, I smile back and nod, our attention is drawn to the doors of the gym as they open and Matt walks through them, “Chris, Nick was wondering if you wanted to-” he pauses as he notices me sat there too.

“Hey..” he smiles at me, “hi.” I look at him and back at Chris, taking in their similarities but also their differences.

Chris pats my knee before standing up and walking to Matt, “one sec.” He whispers, smiling down at me. I see them talking but can’t hear. They laugh slightly before I make eye contact with Matt, my stomach filling with butterflies once more. “See you tomorrow or something y/n!” He calls to me and as Chris turns Matt does a slight wink, causing me to squeeze my thighs together lightly before relaxing them.

“Sorry for that interruption..” Chris laughs, “brothers am I right? Unless you don’t have any I’m not sure.” He slows down his sentence, I shrug. “I don’t have brothers, I had a step brother but his mom broke up with my dad, he’s a year younger than me so he really bugged me.” I chuckled lightly. “Matt said you’re a great student.” Chris spoke after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah I’m pretty good at some subjects, depends on who’s teaching me and if I find the subject interesting.” I smile at him, “well hopefully you get good grades in this class, if not there’s ways you can get higher grades anyway.” He smirks before standing up. “I gotta set up for the next class but feel free to stay if you want, it’s lunch now isn’t it?” He asks me, and I nod “I gotta get going to meet Lizzy but I’ll see you next lesson.” I smile and he nods back.

As I walk out the class I think to myself, what could he have meant by ‘ways for me to get higher grades anyway’? Was he implying a similar thing to what Matt was? I don’t know but I’m intrigued to find out more..

A/n: how is everyone liking the start for this series, I haven’t done a love triangle fic or series before so I hope it’s gonna be good for u!! I am sorry but idk if I’m gonna finish the Mine series rn bc I do wanna focus on this one more but my posting schedule is fucked bc I’m so busy w revision and stuff but I’ll try and post as frequently as I can!!

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life

[wasabijean]

‼️ART FOR DONATIONS TO PALESTINIAN FUNDRAISERS‼️

Hello! A few days ago I began kickstarting my own personal Art for Palestine Campaign on Twitter, and I’m bringing it over to Tumblr as well! By donating to the fundraisers linked below, I will draw you something!

Details on how to help are here!!⬇️⬇️

First, send proof of donation to this google form (I require a screenshot of receipt with name, amount donated and who you donated to.)

After receiving your form, I will then DM you on Tumblr, to let you know your place in queue on trello, and the Estimated time of completion for your art! I will send WIPs if asked.

Here is what to expect based on how much you donate, example drawings are in the google form, or search #my-art tag on my blog.

$1 - traditional full page notebook sketches

$5 - digital messy sketch 

$10 - digital clean sketch black & white/monocolor shading

$15 - digital clean sketch with color

$30 - (2 people) digital clean sketch and color

($40 - Three people)

($50 - Four people)

$60 - Clean Rendered Portrait (simple background, bust up)

$100 - Clean Rendered Full body, full background, full color

5. And here is the list of fundraisers participating, please donate to ALL of them, not just one!

Aya & Mohammed - Both torn by the occupation, them and their families are trying to evacuate Gaza. Mohammed is a survivor of IOF imprisonment for 20 days without outside contact.

Farah & her family - A 20-year-old english translator studying at Al Azhar University, Farah is young and has already gone through much. She and her family are trying to cross the border in Rafah.

Mahmoud Mush - A Palestinian graduate with dreams of establishing his Bakery, all his work undone by the bombings. He is determined to rebuild and pursue his dream no matter what.

Dounia Tanani & her family - A Palestinian mother who graduated as a translator and has been left homeless like many others. She and her family are trying to evacuate Gaza and begin a new life to raise her child.

Ahmed Almofty & his family - He is a recent graduate in Gaza with a promising future, and now he has no home or possessions. Ahmed's future relies on rebuilding his families lives.

Sondos Maher & her family - She is a 27 year old mother of three children who runs a family vlogging channel and now is trying to get them out of Gaza.

Nagham & her family - She is a third year medical student in Gaza who hopes to escape to Canada where her Gaza-born brother, Yasmeen, resides. To start her life anew for her and her family, they need to be evacuated!

Issa & family - They are apart of a family of 6, two of which are college students, while their youngest child is 12 years old. They are trying to evacuate and continue their children's education!

Hafez & his daughters - He is a father two young and bright girls, Malak, a 5-year-old with a love for school and his baby Habiba, born during the occupation. Please donate so they stay healthy!

Mostfa and his family – A young Palestinian body builder who has broke many records and set a precedent for his community, he and his family suffers from the occupation and sickness caused by it.

I will add more fundraisers for those who would like to participate, just tell me and I will add on to this via reblog. Palestine will be free, and it starts with helping the people who need freeing.

[hotteoki]

boyfriend skz things - happy 1k followers!

notes: this was long overdue so i rushed it a bit, but thank you everyone so so much for 1k! here’s a lil celebration that was not proofread 😭

©️ strayedstars | do not repost

chan (방찬) - flirting

despite being in a long-term relationship with him, chan will never stop complimenting you, opening doors for you, spoiling you with gifts etc. it’s so frequent to the point where the others have long given up on making fun of him, opting for a simultaneous groan whenever the both of you share any type of interaction.

just as chan was about to lean in to kiss you, jisung interrupted from beside you, “the parents are at it again!” this created a trend for everyone to follow, screaming a few “get a room!”s or “not again!”s. chan pursed his lips, “i really look forward to the day i move out.” you laughed, “you don’t mean that.” “no i really do.”

minho (민호) - sending filter videos

it was very well known that minho is an avid filter user, using sending random videos to stays on bubble and laughing about them. little did anyone know, the amount of videos or pictures minho posts online were only 1/5th of how many he sends you. without even counting them, you could confidently say that 90% of your gallery was him with some ridiculous filter.

"min, stop sending me stuff, my storage is running out because of you." minho blinked at you slowly, before turning his attention back to his phone, ironically already filming a video with him as a bumblebee, "no." you laughed, "what do you mean, no? i quite literally have more pictures of you than me on my phone-" "good."

changbin (창빈) - reminding you to drink water

knowing how much changbin cares about his health, it was safe to assume that he would care just as much about yours. before he began dedicating his time in the gym, it was always you reminding him to stay hydrated. changbin used to be the most forgetful person ever, and would always be too busy working to drink water. however, after you switched jobs, you were often too stressed to eat or drink at all. thank your lucky stars that changbin is basically a walking alarm.

a glass of water was wordlessly placed beside your laptop on the desk. "binnie, i just drank some literally 5 minutes ago," you looked up from your screen to meet his stern eyes. "no, you drank a sip of my water over an hour ago," changbin crossed his arms, staring pointedly at the clock. you knew he wasn't going to budge until you finished every last drop of that glass, so you complied, downing the water. it was only then did he smile proudly, kissing your forehead quickly before leaving to wash the glass.

hyunjin (현진) - drawing

everyone knows how much hyunjin loves art, most of the pieces he posts on instagram were of flowers, or sceneries. however, he has a notebook that is dedicated to his drawings of you. he knows how you aren't confident in yourself most of the time, but he's determined to prove you wrong. whenever you were with him, hyunjin would always have his notebook and pencil in hand, ready to sketch you.

"what are you always drawing?" "hm?" hyunjin hummed, gaze still fixating on his pages. "i mean, you're always drawing something, can i see what it is?" his cheeks turned slightly pink from your attention, "i'll show you when i'm finished." "but you work on a new piece every time?" hyunjin paused, thinking of a reply to that, "i'll show you the entire book when i'm done. i have around 11 pages left or so anyway." you nodded, satisfied with that answer. hyunjin smiled to himself before continuing his work on your eyes, he always thought they were the prettiest he'd ever seen.

jisung (지성) - petting

it started off as a subconscious movement, you were pretty certain jisung hadn’t even realised doing it until you asked him why he was stroking your arm out of nowhere. he responded with a blush, moving away before you could stop him. it was when it happened again that you told him you found it adorable, and that was also when jisung kissed you for the first time.

“i never got to ask you,” you said, nudging jisung's foot with yours, earning a hum from him. “why do you always pet me?” the hand that was caressing your thigh halted, before continuing as jisung thought of an answer, “i don’t know. i think i just got used to petting bbama, and now i pet you.” you kissed his cheek lightly, smiling against his skin, “fair enough.”

felix (용복) - baking

it was regular for felix to bake a batch of brownies for the members and staff, and usually they would all be devoured before you could even get your hands on one of them, which is why felix would always bake a smaller batch reserved just for you. sometimes they would have chocolate chips in them, or m&ms, whatever you were craving, they would probably be put in the brownies.

"yah, felix, do you have any more brownies?" minho yelled from across the room. "no, sorry, that was all!" felix called back. "what do you mean? you literally have a box of them right there?" jeongin pointed out. felix immediately reacted, extending his arm until it was out of jeongin's reach, "they're not yours." "they're mine!" you added in, walking over to felix and taking the box from him, kissing his cheek as a thank you. "ugh, not in here," minho recoiled.

seungmin (승민) - taking pictures

much like hyunjin, he's an avid believer of capturing the moment. seungmin carries a film camera with him at all times, knowing that if he used a regular camera, you would ask to see the picture and instantly ask him to delete it. by using a film camera, you wouldn't be able to see the picture, and seungmin would be able to print them out without your knowing, and pocket them in his wallet.

"when did you take this?" you indicated at the picture of you in his wallet, you swore you've never seen that picture before. "a while ago," seungmin shrugged, taking his wallet from your hands. "do you just take pictures of me out of nowhere?" you laughed. "yeah, all the time. i thought you knew that." you blinked, "i did not." "well now you do."

jeongin (정인) - letting you wear his rings

jeongin's usually very reluctant about letting other people borrow his things, but when he saw you trying on some of his rings, he knew he would let you have anything you wanted that belonged to him. it wasn't even a possessive thing, he simply thought that it warmed his heart to know that you loved him so much you would wear a reminder of him every day.

"hey, can i borrow this for tonight? it goes with my outfit." without even looking up from his phone, jeongin nodded, "sure." "innie, you're not even looking," you stated teasingly. he smiled, "i don't need to. you can keep whatever you want." you gaped, "really?" jeongin switched his phone off, beaming at you, "yeah. what's mine is yours. not my clothes though, i need them for my ootds."

[frostbitemutt]

some Jack marston hcs? Low honor more specifically 👀

Oh dear. But, Yes. Yes I will. This is low honor. Don't expect anything less than awful 💀.

Yandere! Low honor! Jack Marston hcs

Warnings: gender neutral darling, yandere trope, forced "relationship", obsession, stalking, harassment, unwanted crude flirting, perverted comments, non-consensual kissing and touching mentioned (nothing explicit), breaking and entering, kidnapping, violence, murder, sadism

Main traits:

|perverted/possessive/violent/sadistic|

✘ John Jack Marston Jr. Better to just call him Jack. A raunchy 19 year old trying to imitate his less than a saint father. On track to being an outlaw... yeah.. you're pretty fucked. He's an absolute little shithead.

✘ I'm going to assume you're a local townsfolk, maybe a store clerk, farmer, or maybe you're just his neighbor. You'll know when you've caught his eye. He makes it more than clear. Hounding you around town. Cat-calling you.

✘ His comments are perverted "They tell me I'm at my sexual peak sweetheart..", "Come on, just one kiss.", "are you are aroused as I am?".. and other comments. Very much to your dismay. Dosen't matter your gender. The perversion dosen't stop at words. If you don't have your curtains shut.. you may have to deal with a peeping Tom. His hands wander where they shouldn't, attempting to grab at you, pull you in close enough for him to kiss.

✘ He's possessive of you. You're not in a relationship. Hell you're not even friendly with him. You're definitely less than that. He still feels you're his regardless of the fact you hate his ass. No other man or woman needs to be looking or touching up on you. That's his job. Not theirs. He won't stand by and let someone else harrass you either. To him it's only okay when he does it. Hypocrite. Threatening, dueling, and shooting people left and right.

✘ Just like his daddy, he's violent. Wouldn't John be proud? Probably not. I already mentioned him shooting randos down. Your friends? They're found with a ludicrous amount of bullet holes. Lover? Yeah their head got blow clean off with a shotgun, sorry. You ain't off the hook either. He'll tackle you to the ground and manhandle you in a fit of anger. He'll shout real loud too. Sudden and explosive is how his temper runs.

✘ Sadism is something that shines through a bit in Jack. Now he's not going out of his way to harm or hit you most of the time, unless he's feeling petty. Maybe he'll give you a mildly harsh kick to your side. However that dosent mean he isn't at all. Your tears, your screams, your sobs, and your insults...make him feel all funny inside as he'd put it. Yuck. He'll laugh and snort at you most of the time. Mocking you and your fear. Maybe even make some pig noises at you to add some salt to the wound. Calling out "Sooie!".

✘ You swear, you wake up at least once a week to a weird noise in your home. Window or door suddenly cracked open, not even cracked, more like wide open. Yet you can't find no one. Oh, yeah, mutiple items go missing too. Lots of clothes. Toothbrush. Notebooks if you got any. Were there always boot prints in your carpet? Your bed feel oddly warm? Nope. It was Jack. Who else.

✘ Escape is certainly.. difficult when he goes to kidnap you. He abuses the fuck out of his lasso. Running away on foot? Lasso. On horse? Get the fuck over here. Lasso. Move more than 30 feet from him? Lasso. That point he's doing it cause he thinks it's funny. Unfortunate for you. Not to downplay the fear that comes with it. Thinking you're free, only to be yanked off your horse and hogtied to the back of his.

✘ It's all much worse when he has you isolated, in his home. No police you can snitch to, bystanders to chase him off, or neighbors of yours to questioning him snooping about. He's dosen't bother restraining himself, he was barely before. Sloppily kissing you, hands grasping wherever he can, shoving you against the nearest solid surface. It's vile.

✘ You'll have to endure more of his tantrums than ever. Grumbling when you refuse to talk to him, because why would you want to? Pouting and stomping his foot when you push him away from you. Going on rants when you won't stop crying. His mood changes day from day. Luckily after a bit you might be able to read his face and tell when he's about to to blow a fuse. You can brace yourself for his delusional complaining.

✘ Don't loose all hope. Escape is possible. Now I'm not going to say Jack's stupid, he isn't. However we're still talking about a 19 year old. (I'm almost 19 I can throw shade). He doesn't have a plethora experience like his dad or an older outlaw. He's a new adult on a violent power trip. If he leaves the house, check the locks, he might have forgotten one. Try to knock him unconscious in his sleep or.. more permanent if you're absolutely certain you can. That's the more risky option. If you can act well enough, you can possibly convince him to let you outside with him. If he does? Book it.

[nymph-ette111]

pls write Simon henriksson headcanons I’m gnawing at the walls of my enclosure 👩‍🦲

WARNINGS; SUBSTANCE ABUSE (SMOKING/DRUGS) MENTIONS OF MENTAL ILLNESS (DEPRESSION/ANXIETY) MENTIONS OF INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS (SELF-HARM)

AUTHOR'S NOTE; FIRST CRY OF FEAR REQUEST LET'S FUCKING GOOOO !1!1!1!1!1!!1!! kind of short, still new to the fandom so my headcanons of the characters might change overtime.

-it was confirmed that Simon is a fan of heavy metal and DSBM :3 personally I am not an avid listener of this genre, I think it's pretty cool. I'd like to headcanon specific bands that I think are suiting for Simon but I barely know anything so I don't really have a say on this.

-probably has some sort of internalized misogyny. he grew up all alone, his mother being quite overprotective didn't help with that at all and seeing no mentions of his father in the game makes me think his parents were divorced quite early in Simon's life. being exposed to such settings at a young age might have messed with his perception of love and healthy romantic relationships. despite that, he doesn't care much about gender norms now that he's older. left that mindset long ago.

-picked up on his coping mechanisms in his early teens. he was a bit scared at first of trying something like self-harm, it took him him a lot of time and internal conflict but then decided to just fuck it, he had nothing to lose. felt guilty at first, dropped it for a bit and then picked up on it again. he knows it isn't a healthy way to deal and cope with his negative thoughts but he couldn't care less at that point.

-isn't unfamiliar with drugs but not that crazy about it. not as much as cigarettes, although he does it occasionally, he could still smoke like a pack in one sitting if the situation really called for it. usually just sticks to 2-3 cigs, thinks it's a good enough amount.

^ can you tell I have no idea what I'm talking about.

-you'll never get that crusty ass grey hoodie of his off of him. it's like a cartoon where the character's never change outfit throughout the entire show. besides the fact that it's a literal video game, even in his daily life he almost never switches things up. not necessarily dirty, just worn out and stained with stuff that doesn't want to come off no matter how many times he washes it.

-has a mini fridge full of energy drinks in his room. and by full I mean like two cans because the rest have been consumed and thrown somewhere onto the ground.

-cannot save money for the life of him. as soon as he gets his hands on some cash, it's immediately spent on either a pack of cigarettes or some useless shit. he doesn't even remember what he spends it on, it's just gone.

-hadn't picked up his camera in quite a while, he's slowly loosing grip on his interests. not necessarily because he is starting to dislike them, just doesn't have the motivation.

-but it's usually full of recordings of him on the train, lonely streets of Stockholm or some stray cat that has grown a liking to Simon for some odd reason.

-one time Sophie took his camera without telling him and recorded a small video of herself, just doing something simple like a peace sign or showing off a little doodle she drew in her notebook. despite trying his best to move on, he watches that video from time to time.

[billskeis]

hi, can u do 2008!tom x waitress!reader at a small cute coffee shop and they just like eachother after this n stuff (the rest is what u come up with!) tyy

ᡣ𐭩 tom and his waitress

the bell attached to the door jingles as people walk in and out within the cafe. it was a quaint sunday and the twins were just out and about looking for places to kill time as they just moved for the new school year.

it was a small town where everybody knew everyone and there was basically only one high school for them to attend there. bill didn’t mind the secluded area but his brother did.

“coffee? but you don’t drink that shit..” bill asked his twin brother.

“sshshhshshshush! you—you just have to wait and see..” tom exclaimed as he left his little brother confused, following behind him.

the sweet yet bitter aroma of coffee wafted around the small establishment. it was quite cute. european style. plants decorated the interior while the furniture was mostly that of dark oak, some of the windows were stained glass and classic jazz played in the background.

and there you stood, wiping down a small table with a clean, or could be dirty towel rag that hasn’t been thrown out—but still useful for who knows how long now.

your work uniform entailed that of just a slim fitting white tee as you wore blue skinny jeans that accentuated your curves. the dark brown apron only amplifying that as it was tied oh so tight around your waist, a bow behind to finish the look off altogether.

hair laid in a neat ponytail, your fringe framing your face and jawline just right. tom couldn’t help but stare, bill attempting to look around first until he found what his brother was staring at.

and of course, it was you.

“oh.. now i see,”

“isn’t she beautiful, bill?”

“mmhm, do you know her name?”

“nope! this is my first time entering in actually, i’ve passed by this coffee shop maybe two or three times?? never had the balls to actually WALK IN unless i brought you,”

“…”

“what?”

“you’re fucking lame.”

“oh shut up—hey! what’re you doing!?” tom semi shouts at bill as the slimmer twin attempts to push tom’s somewhat burly body closer to the table you were cleaning at.

“making a move tom, since it took ya this fucking long!” bill yelled at his brother to his surprise was able to even move him an inch? had bill been working out? tom stumbled as he was now met with your table and obviously, you.

“o-oh! hello! welcome!” you smiled brightly and put on your best customer service voice as you were met with two peculiar but cute looking boys who seemed around your age.

looking and analyzing them more made you question whether the pair were a set of twins.

“i uh.. uh.. can we sit here?” the baggier clothed wearing one asked you as the latter facepalmed himself. “of course you can silly, please sit! my name is y/n, what can i get you guys to drink?” you immediately shove the rag down into one of your apron pockets and pull out a small notebook and pen, clicking it in anticipation to write what they request.

as the two analyzed the small menu engraved on the table, the black haired boy spoke “i’ll do a caffé mocha, please,” as you scribble his order down now looking at the dread haired boy.

“coca cola.” he answered.

“a huh?” you asked, hearing him well, you were just, confused.

“a coke..?”

“no—sorry—i heard you the first time it’s just, you want soda at a cafe??”

bill looked at his brother as if he was totally and utterly fucking stupid. one could say, you can hear bill exhale so hard from disappointment that the amount of air that dispelled out of him could probably blow someone away.

“well shit, ummm what do you recommend?” the boy asks eagerly as he leans his body closer to yours while sitting in the chair. excitingly waiting for your answer.

it is said that someone’s coffee order says a lot about them.

you press your pen to your chin as you held the notebook under your arm. giving it some thought, you yourself weren’t the coffee drinker but now having worked in a cafe for soo long it become a part of your personality. “hm..”

“i would have to go for a flat white!”

“flat white it is then, y/n :).”

you write down his order, clicking the pen.

“alrighty! could i get your names please?”

“tom.”

“bill.”

“okay tom and bill, give me ten minutes!”

you skip away to begin working on their drinks as tom waves you away, bill just watching him, “your ass is grass tom,”

“i don’t know what you mean,”

“you. head over heels for some girl you couldn’t even talk to!”

“aren’t you the one preaching about love at first sight though?? yeah, come talk to me when you’ve actually got that.”

“eat shit, tom.”

“get some bitches, bill.”

“aaand i’m back! i hope my two new and favourite customers haven’t been waiting too long!” you place down the mugs gently on the table as you hold the large plastic serving tray behind your back. “nono, you could’ve taken as much time as you needed,” a smile coming from tom as bill rolls his eyes quickly enough at tom that you don’t see but returns the smile.

tom brings the cup to his lips as he takes a sip of the brewed beverage. he licks his lips whereas a remnant of the foam encoated and slightly smacks them to review the flavour.

unknowingly, you were anticipating his reaction more than bills. maybe it was because of how he looked at you, with such attention. or how he was way more willing to speak to you than bill was.

your stomach felt uncomfortable with a thumpy feeling, you choose to ignore it.

“soo.. how is it?”

“amazing.. i’ve never had coffee this good in my life!”

the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach grew stronger. your cheeks also somewhat felt warmer. a beating in your chest that just would not go away.

did he see it yet?

“yay! i’m so glad :D what about you bill?”

“couldn’t have been any better,”

“well, i’ll leave you alone—i have other customers, but do let me know if you need or want anything else!”

a silence was met as you left the table where the two young boys sat. they looked at one another, knowingly. telepathically. it’s like one knew that something was wrong with the other and it didn’t even need to be spoken.

“tell the truth tom.. how was it,”

“it was fucking terrible..”

tom contorted his face in disgust as he lifted up the mug to his face once more to breathe in the smell of the coffee.

how can something that smells so good taste like shit?

he kept his disgusted face plastered on as bill giggled at his brother’s antiques. that was until you innocently made eye contact with him and smiled, to which he just begins chugging the coffee (yes, burning his throat in the process) signalling you a thumbs-up as you laugh at him.

it wasn’t that the flat white you made was bad. you were the best barista in the tiny shop, and at such a young age too! it was that no matter how much tom drank it or whatever type of coffee that tom drank.

he. fucking. hated it.

“wow, you got it bad for her huh..”

“shut up.. i need her number now. i can’t keep drinking this nasty shit.”

as tom played with the tiny spoon that he used to mix his coffee within the mug, bill’s eyed widened at the sight that sat below him on the table, slightly gasping, “tom!”

“what? what is it?” tom now looked at bill who’s smiling and holding up a piece of paper. it was the napkin that decorated the circular plate accompanied with your mug.

there on it was decorated a subtle lipgloss stained kiss along with some writing.

“call me xxx-xxx-xxx c:”

bill wiggled the napkin in front of his twin brother at tom gripped it out of his grasp quickly but softly enough to not rip or ruin the frail napkin.

“well it looks like she beat you to it.”

he looked up from the napkin to watch you interact and tend to other customers. god he wishes that were him instead of some stranger, making you smile and laugh like that. it was almost criminal at the impact you had on him.

you catch tom and bill staring at you as you work, bill obviously looking away but tom kept his gaze on you. you noticed that he held a napkin in his hand as his whole body was shifted towards your direction.

wink.

“holy sh1@!8 bill! did you see that she winked at me!!”

tom swears he can feel his heart come out his chest as he clutches the enlarged shirt from the upper middle of his torso that draped over his body.

“i didn’t, but if you really wanted let’s go pay now before she gets off cash!”

“i—i can’t bill, here take the money,” as tom shoves a $20 bill into his brother’s hand as he makes his way towards the exit, “tell her i said i had to walk georg—i mean, our dog!!”

“but..! ugghhh…”

“chickened out? was the napkin too much?” you ask bill as you cash out the money he gave you, returning the extra change by placing the coins into the palm of bill’s hand.

bill scoffs and almost laughs, “i don’t think so, i think he’s just a pussy. but he reallllyyy likes you, like, it’s insane i’ve never seen him act like this before.”

“haha.. well, you take care bill! i’ll see you at school tomorrow!” waving the twin brother away as he makes his way outside the cafe. “bye y/n!” bill had totally and completely forgotten that today was a sunday and monday was going to be their first day back in senior year.

...

wait.

“y/n goes to our school!?”

[zombiigrll]

Can I request a Carl x male reader set after 7x1 where reader comforts Carl about what happened and maybe they plan to infiltrate the sanctuary together and when Negan insults Carl, reader comforts him again after he's left alexandria?

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TO THE MOON AND BACK. ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x male!reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 3.7K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst + fluff, spoilers for the walking dead 7x1-7x7, swearing, kissing, gore, flashbacks, use of y/n! .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ after the lineup, you and carl were determined to get back at negan. so, you decided to make a trip to the sanctuary together. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ thank you for the request anon! and im so sorry i know i definetly changed some things about this prompt </3 i was having a difficult time with how to write the exact prompt. i hope you still like it! (EDIT) oh my god. im SO SORRY. i didn't read that you specifically requested a male reader </3 i went through and tried to get all of the things i put fem pronouns and stuff on changed i'm sorry if some of it is still wrong!! this is so embarassing help me...

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────────────────────────

you and carl both had the same determination of getting rid of negan after the lineup happened. negan had killed two of your friends, two people who had saved you a numerous amount of times.

and negan had also mutilated your face. not on purpose, but you just so happened to be a little too close to abraham when he was being murdered, resulting in your cheek getting torn open.

but, of course, nobody was fond of the idea of two teenagers going out to kill some guy who's murdered hundreds of people himself.

so you'd have to make a plan that no one else would know of.

you met up late at night in carls room while everyone else was deep in sleep.

"so, how're we going to do this?" you had brought a notebook and pencil to his house in case you needed to write the plan down.

"the saviors are going to come to our place weekly, right? that includes going to hilltop." he draws down some sort of map on the paper, labeling things as he explains. "if we plan this right, we could head to the hilltop around the same time the moving trucks are there. we can sneak into the back of one of the vehicles."

you nod as he explains, biting your bottom lip nervously. "and what if we don't get there at the right time?"

"we can ask the people at hilltop when the last time the saviors came was. if it was a week ago, we can wait around. if it was recently, we plan for the future."

you nod again, this time more confidently. "alright."

"are you okay with this?" carl notices your uncomfortable and nervous appearance, putting a comforting hand on your knee. "if you want, i can go by myself-"

"no. i'm going with." you cut him off swiftly. "i'm not letting you do this by yourself. i want to help you."

"...alright." he smiles softly at you. "we're gonna do this together, then. like we always have."

...

its safe to say you didn't get much sleep that night, even sleeping with carl. you kept tossing and turning thinking of all the possible things that could happen.

and by the time carl went to wake you up, you were already up.

"y/n.." he softly spoke, tapping your shoulder before realizing your eyes are already open. "you're already awake?"

"mm.." you nodded before turning your body to face him properly. "i'm nervous."

he brings up a hand to move a strand of hair behind your ear. "i know. i am too. it'll be okay."

you lean your face into his palm while you put your hand over his. "when are we leaving?"

"soon. i already have our bags packed, we just have to get changed." he smiles down comfortingly at you.

you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and stretching, walking over to your wardrobe to grab some clothes.

"you sure you still want to do this?" carl questions, standing up shortly after to get ready.

"i'm sure. and even if i wasnt, i'm not gonna let you do this by yourself."

he shoots you a quick smile before grabbing his clothes and changing.

the two of you finished getting changed, and now it was just a matter of getting out of alexandria unnoticed. a couple people were out on runs to get stuff for negan, so you guys had a good chance of getting out no trouble.

carl held your hand as he guided you to the front gates, helping you up and down the gate to make sure you didn't fall.

you guys successfully got past the gate unnoticed, dropping down with a slight 'hmph' sound as your feet hit the ground.

there was a car right outside of alexandria. did you or carl really know how to drive?

no.

but, that didn't stop you guys. you knew the basics, and it was the fastest possible way to hilltop in time.

carl looked at you, then back at the car, walking over to it swiftly. you followed quickly behind him and stepped into the passengers seat.

he started up the car and started driving.

"i think this is how we're going to die." you joked, putting your seatbelt on and holding onto the grab handle.

carl laughs with a nod. "we'll be fine."

...

that went wrong, fast.

well, you guys did end up being fine. but apparently all of these years of carl seeing walkers, it was a shock to see one while he was driving a car.

did he run into it on purpose to try and impress you? or was it genuinely an accident?

"holy shit, carl!" you yelled, gripping harder than before on the grab handle and pulling your seatbelt tighter in fear as he slams onto the breaks.

"fuck, sorry. sorry." he spoke breathily, setting the car into park. "...sorry."

you let go of the handle and unbuckled yourself, letting out a deep sigh. "it's... it's fine. do you know where we are right now at least?"

"mhm. hilltop should be right over there." he points in the direction of hilltop as he unbuckles as well, stepping out of the car.

you gather your things out of the car and begin walking with carl following behind you.

the two of you were walking for a bit, your legs getting more and more tired and your guys' moods plummeted after losing the car. but suddenly, you hear carl call out.

"hey, y/n."

"what?" you turn around and tilt your head at him, walking closer to him to see what he's found.

two sets of rollerskates.

"oh, are you kidding?!" you exclaimed with a bright smile, kneeling down next to him. "i haven't been on rollerskates since, like, my 6th birthday!"

he pulls out both of the pairs, handing you one. "i hope this makes up for my shitty driving?"

"absolutely."

...

the rest of the journey to hilltop was honestly... fun.

you and carl were hand-in-hand on rollerskates, skating like you were deers on ice.

"woah, slow down! you're pulling me!" carl laughed, accidentally sliding in front of you.

"oh, come on. just go faster then!" you chuckled, moving him back to your side.

as he turns to face forward again, he stops. "we're here. i think the saviors are here too." he whispers, pointing at one of the trucks by the entrance.

you silently nod as he moves you guys behind a tree. you quickly take off your skates and set them into the grass before putting your regular shoes on.

"are you ready?" carl asks lowly, interlocking your fingers together.

"mhm." you look up at him nervously, your anxiety showing through your interlocked hand shaking.

"hey.." he brings up his free hand up to your cheek. "we're gonna be okay. nothing is going to happen to you, not while i'm with you."

you smile up at him, quickly glancing at his lips before looking back into his eyes. carl lets out a quick chuckle before kissing you lightly.

as he breaks away from the kiss, he smiles at you again. "let's go."

...

an hour had passed.

an entire hour of sitting in the back of a moving truck, staying as silent as possible as you held a pistol in your hand. you took deep breaths with your eyes closed and head leaning back onto the walls of the truck.

and you were quickly taken out of your daze at the feeling of the car breaking and the sound of the car parking.

you gave carl a surprised and nervous look before looking back toward the entrance of the back, noticing a man opening it up and looking at the loot.

carl quickly pointed his gun up, firing at the men. you followed after by standing up alongside him and pointing your not-so-intimidating pistol up, helping shoot more of the saviors away.

carl pushes a bit past you and points his gun. "stay back! drop your weapons."

you step forward to his side, pointing your pistol towards the saviors out of carls view.

"we only want negan." he continued, his gaze fixated all around the yard. "he killed my friends. no one else needs to die."

right after carl announced that, a familiar whistling was heard, catching both of your guys' attention instantly.

"damn." negan laughs, staring at the two of you with a smirk plastered along his face. "romeo and.. romeo? isn't that adorable." his gaze fixates onto carl, and he points at the giant gun in his hands that was aimed right towards him. "did you pick that gun 'cause it looks cool? you totally did, right?"

negan sets lucille in front of him, leaning onto her as he looks at both of you with a squint. "y'know, i'm gonna be honest, you kids scare the shit outta me."

just as you were about to open your mouth to say something to him, a man runs into carl to pin him down, which also in result pushed you over.

"carl!" you yelled, attempting to get up. but before you could, you saw a couple saviors pointing their guns toward you.

"back off!" negan yells, holding his hand up toward the cluster of saviors and dwight. "dwight. is that any way to treat our new guests?"

that sentence mad your heart drop. when you noticed the guns being set down, you got up and quickly moved over to help carl.

"are you okay?" you asked carl, practically in a whisper as you helped him up. he nods and readjusts his hat, glaring back up at negan, which you joined in on.

this only made negan grin wider.

"well, come on, kids! let me show you around."

...

negan had given you and carl the tour. it wasn't pretty.

he made the sanctuary seem like some amazing, beautiful place, but all you saw was misery.

carl raised an eyebrow at negan as you three entered a room that had a large bed and two chairs facing each other. "are all of those women actually your--"

"wives? yeah." negan cut off. "always wanted to screw a whole bunch of women. i mean, why settle for just one? a bit.. different in your case, but my point still stands." negan jokingly points a finger at you, which you responded in a silent death-stare. "why follow the same old rules? why not make life better?"

negan steps over to one of the chairs and sits, signaling for carl to come over. "speaking of.. sit."

carl instantly nods and walks over, leaving you standing by the doorframe. you look at negan confused.

"you can go sit on the bed." negan grins at you and points to the edge of the bed. you comply and sit down, looking at whats happening with negan and carls interaction. "now.. let's get started."

"started on what?" carl asks, crossing his arms and glaring up at negan.

"i want to get to know you a little better, carl. you and him."

"why?"

"work it out. you're smart." he glares almost mockingly back at carl as he speaks. "in fact, i'm gonna tell you just how smart you are, in case you don't already know."

negan continues going on his speech, looking at you and carl as he speaks. "see, i'd expect kids your age to be moping around, not doing a damn thing, except crying about missing the prom. but you two? you go on a mission. you find me, kill four of my men together, and you're smart enough to know i'm not gonna let this slide."

as negan chuckles, you begin feeling your body shaking, memories of the lineup rolling back through your mind.

"ah, i can't.. i can't do it." negan speaks through his laughs. "it's like talking to a birthday present. you got to take that crap off your face. i wanna see what grandma got me."

you start to stand up to face negan properly. "he doesn't have to do shit-"

"four men!" he yells, standing up to look down at you. "four. men. you really want to piss me off, girl? 'cause i can make you take yours off, too. so i can see what lucille did to you when she was bashing your good friend abrahams head in-"

"fine." carl cuts negan off, his voice raised but slightly shaking. you look over at him with a saddened look, pressing your lip in between your teeth. carl sighs and begins taking the bandage off, and negan waves you away to go sit back down on the bed.

negan laughs ecstatically as he sits back down, watching carl take his bandage off. "almost there..."

carl sets the bandage down next to him, looking down at his hands.

"get that hair out of your face. let me see."

carl moves his hair behind his ear and faces negan, which only makes him laugh harder.

"christ! that is disgusting!" negan mocks, which makes you feel your stomach drop in anger and sympathy for carl. "no wonder you cover that up. have you seen it? i mean, have you looked in a mirror? that is gross as hell. i can see your socket." negan continues to laugh, but then he notices carl crying.

"carl.." you whisper. all you wanted right now was to go over there and help him, but you couldn't. you already pissed off negan, if you did something else who knows what he'd do to you or carl?

"...damn. look, i just.." negans voice softens into a more sympathetic tone, which surprised you. "it's easy to forget that you're.. just a kid."

carl looks away from negan and wipes away his tears, but without realizing, he turned away to face you instead. you saw his tears and his eye, which he always hid from you since the day it happened. his eyebrows raised when he realized who he was looking at, and he quickly turned back away.

"i didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything. i.." he sighs. "i was just screwing around."

before anyone could say anything else, there was a knock at the door, which made you and carl flinch.

"come in."

a man came in holding lucille very carefully, looking nervous. he explained that negan had left lucille down by the trucks.

"seriously? i never do that." negan laughs, standing up to grab his bat. "i guess two teens firing at my men is a bit of a distraction."

the savior quickly leaves and just as he shuts the door, negan sits back down and continues. "all jokes aside, you look rad as hell. i wouldn't cover that shit up. and, i mean, apparently it's a hit with the ladies." he points to you with a smirk. "but i swear to you, no one is going to screw with you looking like that."

negans expression quickly changes to one of curiosity. "what do you like to do for fun? you like music?" carl squints his eyes at negan confused. "i want you to sing me a song."

"...what?" carl raises his eyebrow, his body language softening.

"yeah. you two mowed down four of my men, i want something in return for that. sing me a song."

carl blinks rapidly in thought, confused and slightly scared. "i.. i can't think of any-"

"bullshit!" negan yells, standing up with lucille in hand, leaning down to carl. "what'd your mom sing to you? what'd your dad play in the car? start singing."

"okay, okay." carl sighs, looking over at you for comfort. "...okay."

carl looks down at his lap, messing with his fingers. negan walks over to the bed with lucille, listening to carl singing.

"you make me happy when skies are grey-"

carl is quickly interrupted when negan swings his bat right onto the bed, right next to your side. you flinch, staring at the fresh rips on the mattress and then back at negan, eyes widened and your chest moving up and down from your rapid breaths.

"do not let me distract you, young man." negan glances at carl, then back at you. "and you, don't flinch."

how the fuck were you supposed to not flinch? your life was in danger, your mind racing to that night. this was basically how you got your cheek mutilated in the first place, too.

carl continued singing, and negan continued swinging near you. you tried your best not to flinch, but instead of flinching, you were crying and hyperventilating. your heart felt like it was pounding and your brain felt like it was exploding.

and after what felt like a million years, it was over.

"that's pretty good." negan said after his final swing, pulling up lucille and walking over to carl. "lucille loves being sung to. it's about the only thing she loves more than bashing in brains. weird, huh?"

you began spacing out, tears rolling down your silent face as you had horrific flashbacks to that night.

. flashback .

once negan had landed his bat right in front of abraham, your heart sank. he was sitting right besides you, and now you were forced to watch and experience his brutal death.

negan took his first swing right to the middle of abrahams skull.

"woo! takin' it like a champ." negan spoke, laughing at abraham as he sat there still, glaring into negans eyes.

"suck. my. nuts." abraham spoke his final words, which only uttered more laughs out of negan.

and negan took another swing, but this time, you flinched harder. and you got closer. and you felt a harsh pain shoot through the side of your face, and something crimson dripping down onto your lap. you brought your hand up with wide eyes, looking at the blood drenching your palms, then back up at everyone. your eyes wandered over to carl, who was staring at you with wide eyes as well.

he couldn't do anything, you couldn't do anything, and abraham was still being murdered at your side.

all you could do was cry, watching abraham while your vision was fogged up by your tears.

.

"..y/n?" carl shook you by your shoulders, getting you out of your daze.

right. you were still at the sanctuary.

"negan is trying to.. show us something." carl told you, nodding his head in the direction of negan, who was standing by the doorframe.

all you did was blankly nod, standing up from the bed.

"are we ready?" negan laughed, making a signal with his hands for the two of you to hurry up.

you quickly walked over to negan with carl by your side and negan began taking you to the railing, looking down at a man sitting down near a furnace with a crowd around him.

...

you barely remember what had happened for the rest of your time at sanctuary. you're sure you blocked most of it out.

you could vaguely remember negan showing you and carl a man getting the side of his face ironed off, and negan making you hold lucille as they did so.

and when you got back to alexandria with negan, carl had made you stay in his room until everything was over. you begged him to let you stay with him, that you were scared you were going to lose him, but he wouldn't budge. in the end, he locked you in his room.

"fuck, carl! please.." you cried trying to catch up with him.

"sorry. i love you." he said before closing the door.

you stayed laying in his bed, crying yourself to sleep.

you felt as if you were being dramatic. i mean, carl was facing more of the repercussions than you were. you were worried about him. his recklessness scared you, even if you were reckless yourself. he'd do anything for you, including spending the rest of the day with negan while you laid in bed despite everything negan had done that day and in general.

and the day passed. negan had left, and carl came back into his room.

you were still awake, back on the mattress as you stared at his ceiling. but as you heard the door open, you shot up. you quickly stepped off of the bed and ran over to him, hugging him tightly. your head was on his chest and one of your hands laid on the back of his head, the other around his neck. he quickly returned the hug.

"i'm sorry." he whispered into the crook of your neck.

you took your head off of his chest and up to look him in the eye, bringing your hands up to hold his face. "don't be sorry." you said with a half smile.

when you looked up to face him, he moved his face away. specifically, to the side where you couldn't see his eye.

"hey.." you readjusted your hand to move his face back to you. "don't look away."

"but, my eye-"

"what about it?" you laughed, pinching your eyebrows together.

"you haven't seen it since today. i, uh.. didn't think you'd want to see me like this."

"are you kidding?" you tilted your head, laying your arms to drape over his shoulders as you looked at him lovingly.

carl opens his mouth, as if he was about to say something to retort your comment, but before he could, you leaned in to kiss him. you brought one of your hands up again to hold his face as you leaned into the kiss. as you moved away, you smiled warmly at him.

"i love you.. to the moon and back." you laughed, tears in your eyes as you admired the boy in front of you.

carl laughed with you, hands on your waist as he smiled down at you. "i love you too." he brings up his hand to run his fingers through your hair as he speaks. "but.. how're you doing?"

"i'm.. i'm okay." you nodded reassuringly. "i'm better now that you're back here with me."

"are you, uh.. mad that the plan didn't work out?"

"it might not have worked out the way we wanted it to, but now we know the layout of the sanctuary and where it is." you reminded him. "it worked out, just differently. we'll figure all of this out again. together. right?"

carl nods, his smile returning to his face with a nod. "...yeah. together, like we always have."

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