#as always all my art is better once i get to explain what i was thinking so uh hit me up i guess otherwise uh

[violetsaffron5]

Beautiful Disaster (13)

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13 | Glass

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

A party at Satoru's house ends in disaster.

words: 3.9k

AN: Hey guys! Not sure if anyone is even reading this story anymore, but I fell of the face of the planet for a while, sorry about that. Things IRL were crazy with work and my personal life, and I just didn't have it in me to write anything. Things are much better now and I was in the writing mood, so decided to give this one a little update, since I already had the chapter mostly written already. 

I will be going through it to proofread/edit before I do the last two chapters (which will probably be posted together).

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

April 2012

Taking a deep breath, cinching the robe around your waist a little tighter, you step into the class. There’s a murmur from students setting up their supplies, getting their easels into position, and canvases ready to draw on.

The walls are covered in art from various classes and years passed - even some portraits of past nude models hang on the wall as examples of creative liberties and proper proportions. Something many artists have a hard time getting a handle on.

As you stand in front of the class, a little stool next to you so you can sit on occasion while the other students draw, you look around the room, making eye contact with Choso.

He gives a small, shy smile, like he always does and you swallow thickly - feeling the way your chest and neck heat with the flush creeping up to your cheeks.

Satoru wasn’t particularly… pleased when you told him you were taking an extracurricular art class this semester. Less pleased when he realized Choso was in your class.

And even less so when you told him you offered to be the nude class model.

The decision was easy though, despite his grievances. His only real one was jealousy and not wanting everyone in the class to ogle you - which you assured him wasn’t likely going to be the case. You have no reason to be ashamed, and everyone who’s taking this class knew this was an assignment. Besides, the professor has made it very clear that if anyone says anything or makes you uncomfortable, they’ll fail and be removed from the class.

You offered to be the model when you found out it’s a paid gig, and you’ll take an opportunity that arises to get your own money - money your mom doesn’t need to know about and money she won’t have any reason to grill you on how or where you spend it.

Once you explained this, Satoru relented a little, though you’re confident his problems have more to do with Choso than anything else. Which is ridiculous considering there hasn’t been anything more than a friendship between you two. It’s not like you have a history with Choso like Satoru does with Mei.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the professor states after closing the classroom door. You look around, taking in the overhead string lights giving the space a warm glow - the shades are drawn on the windows, stopping anyone from outside the room from witnessing what’s about to happen.

Licking your lips, and looking up at the ceiling, you draw the ribbons on the robe, letting the soft, fluffy material fall to the floor. The air is cold in the room, immediately perking your nipples as you purse your lips, feeling a wave of goosebumps cover your flesh.

The rustling of utensils being grabbed and the scratching on canvases immediately fill the room. Gaining a little more confidence, you look back at the class; Choso’s deep black eyes are the first - and only - you see in the room. At the beginning of the class, you thought it might be more awkward with him here, being the only person you know outside of class and seeing you vulnerable in front of everyone. It’s more comforting than you could have imagined.

In reality, you don’t know him all that well, but he’s always been kind, and he hangs around Suguru a lot. You also don’t miss the way his eyes trail the length of your body before he busies himself with what he’s supposed to be doing.

There are several times during class when your eyes meet, you give a little shrug and smile and he grins full-on, laughing to himself quietly as he continues drawing your form.

When class comes to an end, the professor allows you to leave to dress in the bathroom down the hall and come back since he has a few announcements.

Once you’ve changed you take your place next to Choso as the teacher drones on about maintaining professionalism from seeing a classmate naked and urging everyone to continue working on their canvases on their own time, turning in their finished work at the next class.

Except for you, of course, being exempt from having to draw anything and getting an automatic A on this assignment.

“Thanks for drawing me naked and not being a perv about it,” You whisper to Choso, nudging his shoulder gently with yours.

He flashes his brows, chuckling, “That’s kind of my thing, you know - trying not to be a creep.”

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you wait for Choso to finish packing his art supplies, slipping the canvas under his arm, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him out of the room.

“Are you coming to the party tonight? Haven’t seen you around the last few.”

Choso gives a wistful smile, “Yuji’s grandpa is sick, in the hospital so I’ve been joining him on his visits. But I think he’s hanging out with his friends tonight.”

“Great!” Smiling widely, you turn and walk backward toward your next class as Choso stops in front of the stairs, on the way to his, “Then I’ll see you there!”

Steam rolls out from the bathroom door when you open it, the cool breeze from Satoru’s room hitting your skin, immediately making you shiver. He’s lying on the bed, arm relaxed by his head, long legs crossed at the ankles.

As soon as you emerge, he lets his phone drop to his chest, a heated gaze watching as you meander around, combing through your hair and deciding what to wear for their house party tonight.

Per usual, there’s a fight tonight starring yours truly. How the higher-ups at the school haven’t figured this out, even with Toji acting as an “inside man” - for lack of a better term - is beyond you. You’d think schools would want to investigate why several students show up with black and blue bruises and cut lips and eyebrows every so often, but apparently, they have better things to do.

Satoru has gotten off the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and slipping them under the towel until it becomes loose enough to drop to the floor. He pulls you close to him, one large hand splayed on your stomach, the other playful tweaking your pert nipple while he kisses down your neck.

You let out a soft sigh when he nibbles your lobe, before whispering, “You smell so fucking good,” pushing his hips into your ass so you can feel his growing length.

With a sharp gasp, he spins you around, setting you on his dresser, wrapping your arms around his neck as he continues nipping and kissing your neck. And almost inadvertently, as soon as he slips his hand between your thighs, you close your legs a little tighter.

Satoru pulls away, brows knitted as you sigh and purse your lips. His tone comes out harsher, more exasperated than you think he really means, “What’s wrong?”

The truth is your heart fucking aches at the state of your relationship. Things were so great, until they just weren’t anymore - there was a part of you that always thought people who described being in a hard relationship felt like they were drowning were just being dramatic. But it honestly feels that way.

Your chest is heavy and your heart beats so loud that sometimes it’s the only thing you can hear; your throat feels so tight you can’t catch your breath. There are nights where you’ve stayed up wondering if he feels the same way but in reality, you’re not sure he’d ever tell you.

He avoids conversations like the plague and is so much better at hiding his feelings and playing them off than you are.

Since the Okinawa trip, there’s been a lot weighing on your mind about how realistic this relationship with Satoru is. He’s fun and makes you feel alive with his silly ideas and schemes, makes you feel heard and seen. And along that same vein, there are times where you feel simultaneously loved and unwanted.

Afterall, he’s the one who wanted to keep things casual but relented only because you wanted a relationship and it almost feels as if you forced his hand with that. Sure, he made his own choice, but even then, there are things you can’t deny or look away from.

There’s no hiding Mei is a point of contention in your relationship. She has been since before it even started. And it was something you thought would go away - that she would see the two of you together and go find someone else to sink her claws into but she just keeps coming back, and for whatever reasons, he won’t let her go either.

Satoru told you their relationship was primarily physical - that there’s no real interest in one another beyond that, and the only reason they were involved to begin with was because of their family businesses being tied together. More convenient than anything.

So why won’t he let her go? And is it fair to even ask him to? Outside of Suguru, Shoko and even Utahime, she is one of his oldest friends.

You’ve also been wondering recently how much Satoru respects you. Considering how many times you’ve talked about how uncomfortable you are with this… relationship with Mei and how it hurts you, nothing has changed despite his repeated promises.

And it’s not logical to think he’d change.

Satoru groans when you hop off the dresser, grabbing your shirt and slipping it on, “I’m fine. Just not in the mood, I don’t feel great tonight.”

“You’re never in the mood anymore.” There’s no mistaking the annoyance in his tone as grabs his glasses to shield his eyes, no doubt rolling them behind the dark glass.

Despite the lie you’ve been telling, you want nothing more than to have him, let him have his way with you as he has so many times before. But you’re not emotionally ready to go there right now - you need time to think and you can’t do that when he’s buried ten inches deep in you almost every night.

So the physical aspect of your relationship has taken a hit. You’ve tried talking about Okinawa with him, bringing up everything with Mei once again - but just like always, Satoru says you’re being dramatic, making a mountain out of a molehill.

But it’s clearly not nothing since it bothers you and it’s clear as day to everyone around.

Satoru doesn’t bother staying by your side during most of the party, opting to meet up with some of his classmates. You try not to pay too much attention to him, but you sneak glances over every now and again.

He chats, a drink in hand while laughing and animatedly waving his free hand around while telling a story.

“Hello?” A pale hand waves in front of your face, snapping a few times, breaking you out of your trance - apparently you were staring longer than you thought.

Blinking a few times and turning your head, you look at Choso, “I’m sorry - what were you saying?”

He gives a soft smile, glancing between you and Satoru for a moment, “Everything okay?”

Pursing your lips and sighing heavily, you nod slowly, “Yeah… It’s just…” You trail off, not sure how much or what to actually say. It doesn’t take long to make a decision though, since looking back over to Satoru shows Mei has joined his little soiree. “He says nothing is happening, but he’s always with Mei.” You nod your head in that direction.

Choso purses his head and nods, “Yeah. I was wondering about that.”

“Great.” Your voice is monotone. Because this just confirms you’re not the only person who sees them together constantly - that it’s not just you being high maintenance or a pain in the ass. It is a real problem, and one Satoru refuses to acknowledge.

“Why don’t we,” Choso starts, eyes flickering between yours for a moment before pointing off to the side, “take some shots?”

Your eyes trail to where he’s pointing - a small group of people around a small table, just big enough for someone to lay on and take a body shot. A smile spreads across your face with amusement for two reasons: Shoko is currently taking a shot glass out of Utahime’s mouth and tipping it back and because you’re feeling a little petty tonight.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you’ve already consumed, your inhibitions are lowered but you don’t care. If Satoru gets to have someone other than you hanging with him all the time, going on family outings during the holidays and hanging on him twenty-four seven - then why can’t you do the same?

Choso’s questioning stare is innocent, so there’s a chance he won’t be up for this - there’s a part of you that wonders if he meant just regular shots, and not specifically body shots. You get your answer however, when you agree and a wide smile spreads across his face.

While you walk to the table and lay back on it once Utahime has gotten up, Choso busies himself with getting salt, a lime and a shot of tequila.

Shoko is off to the side, staring daggers at you before asking, “What the hell are you doing?”

You smile and shrug, “Playing his game. I’m tired of being the one that gets hurt all the time.”

“This is a really stupid fucking idea,” Utahime chimes in to your surprise. It’s not often she adds her two cents on your relationship - normally she just adds how stupid she thinks Satoru is.

Choosing not to answer, you lay back and turn to face Satoru. He’s not paying attention, however Mei is, you glare, lick your lips and lift your shirt just enough to expose your navel.

“Ready?” Choso asks and you nod, but he keeps a hold of the tequila shot, rather than putting it in your mouth.

Small grains of salt hit just below your belly button and then the feel of a small metal ball and cool tongue trail up. The reaction your body gives is normal; stomach clenching, breath hitching and thighs closing ever so slightly - like a reminder of all the times Satoru has done the same to you.

Looking down at Choso was a mistake - he has a mischievous smirk spread across his lips and heat in his eyes. And rather than take the shot in his hand, he presses his lips to yours. Your eyes widened in shock, because this was not part of the plan - it was supposed to just be a normal body shot, just something to make Satoru a little jealous and hopefully realize how he’s been treating you.

Panicked, you sit up and fix your shirt - Choso winks, placing the glass to his lips just as a fist connects with his jaw in a deafening crack. Satoru is seething, nostrils flared as he grabs a fist full of Choso’s shirt and pulls him in for another punch to the face.

Choso isn’t caught off guard this time, landing his own blow on Satoru’s cheek, and then his ribs.

“Stop!” You scream hysterically, covering your mouth with your hand, because this was not the mess you wanted to cause - this wasn’t supposed to happen!

Before you can take a step forward, a large hand grips your shoulder. Suguru is next to you, shaking his head before stepping in to separate the guys. Panicked, you look at Shoko who has a look of disappointment written on her face, Utahime is shaking her head, watching as Suguru stands between the two.

Satoru runs a hand down his face, Choso wipes his lip with the back of his hand as Suguru says something to them - when he’s done, Satoru stalks out of the room and up the stairs without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Why,” it’s a small noise that leaves your lips, not loud enough for anyone to hear other than yourself. Looking at Choso with upturned brows, you shake your head slightly. If you had known he planned on kissing you, there’s no way you would have agreed to do this.

He must have seen you mouth the word because Choso walks over to you, brows bunched together. “Because he treats you like shit. And you just let it happen time and time again.”

A scoff leaves your lips, “I love Satoru - you know what, I can’t deal with this right now.”

Onlookers move out of your way as you make your way to and up the steps to Satoru’s bedroom. The room is quiet, light off except the illumination of the lights peeking out from the partially closed bathroom door.

For the first time, probably ever, you knock on the door to make your presence known before poking your head inside. Satoru’s standing, head hanging between his shoulders, leaning on his palms on the cool countertop.

“Satoru,” a step forward with your hand outreached for him, wanting to check on the cuts on his lip, and the bruise blooming across his cheek, “I -”

“Stop.” He interjects, tone raspy, lifting his head to look in the mirror but not looking in your direction.

A sigh leaves your lips, because of course he doesn’t want to talk about this. He would rather let his emotions show physically - through sex or fighting - rather than sit and have a two minute conversation to talk things through.

“Okay…” You’re really not sure what to do in this situation, stay and potentially make it worse or leave him to cool off and come try and talk to him later. Opting for the latter, you take a step back - you really need to talk with Choso about what happened too, you just needed a second to take a step back and see Satoru. To make sure he didn’t need any bandages or some other medical care. With the exception of the few scrapes and bruises, he seems physically fine.

Turning and opening the door, a large hand reaches over your head and pushes the door fully closed.

“Where are you going?” Satoru asks, voice annoyed.

“To check on Choso.” It comes out quieter than you intend, which Satoru’s body heat radiating against your back, his hand still firmly pressed against the door, yours on the knob.

“Why? Kissing him wasn’t enough?”

Heat flares through your veins at the comment, because he’s acting like you asked for him to kiss you. And that was never the intention - you would never do anything like that, and he knows it - especially with your history.

He’s just trying to piss you off too.

Turning around, you snap at him, pointing a finger in his chest, “Maybe because my boyfriend went insane and beat the shit out of him,” he grins slightly at that comment, teeth pink from fading blood. “And because -”

Because you saw the way Choso looked at you when he suggested body shots. Knew it would piss Satoru off to no end. Because you were already questioning what Choso was wanting to do before you agreed. It was like you lost your mind in the moment, in all of the feelings and anger and hurt at everything that has happened, and continues to happen in this relationship.

“Because this is my fault.” Your voice is quiet, shoulders slumped, guilt written on your faces as tears well in your eyes.

Satoru’s arms are around you the moment the first tear drips from the corner of your eye, holding you close and rocking side to side gently.

“Don’t leave me,” He whispers into your hair and you’re sure he doesn’t mean physically, in this moment.

“I’m not - I won’t.” You say between sniffles, pulling back to look into his ocean blue eyes, showing his own uncertainty in this situation - a look you’re not used to from him. “Satoru, that was scary. It looked like you were trying to murder him.”

“I wanted to.”

Your brows pinch together at his admission, “You’re insane.”

“In a good way?” The teasing tone to his voice is starting to come back.

A small laugh leaves your lips, “How is there a good way to be insane?”

He thinks for a moment, pulling you back into his muscular chest before shrugging, “Dunno just, don’t go to him. Okay?”

Closing your eyes, you nod against him, taking in the warmth and safety you feel in his arms, hoping he’ll explain his reaction to that, “Why did you punch him?”

It takes several minutes of standing in silence, holding one another to realize he’s stopped swaying you back and forth, a motion you found comforting when he was doing it, and the odds of him answering are lower and lower with every passing second.

After another few minutes you pull away and sigh, wiping the smeared makeup under your eyes away.

“I don’t want him touching you,” Satoru says hurriedly when you open the bathroom door again, grabbing your free wrist, “Let alone kissing you.”

That’s not a real answer - just some fucked up possessiveness he feels he needs to display because another guy is clearly interested in you. Which is ironic considering he said the two of you could see other people before he agreed to try dating.

And clearly he forgets is attached to him at the hip anytime she’s around, but how dare anyone but Satoru do that with you. It’s a stupid double standard and one you’re tired of.

He lets your arm go when you shake your head slowly, which breaks your heart. Wishing he would fight for you right now, for your relationship - not physically fight, but actually listen to each other and work together to make things better.

Maybe it is time to call it quits. Having these feelings in your relationship continuously is not healthy and it’s taking a toll on you. At this point you’re not sure what’s worse - finding your boyfriend cheating on you with your own mother, or this cycle you found yourself in with Satoru.

There’s a deep stuttering sigh behind you, to your surprise, “Things haven’t been great between us recently,” he says quietly, clearly unsure how to say what’s on his mind, “And I - fuck -” he groans, running his hands up and down his fast several times, “I don’t know, okay, but I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

Your brows are raised as you turn to look at Satoru with surprise, not having anticipated getting any sort of answer. It’s not much, but it speaks volumes that he’s admitted your relationship isn’t in a good place right now - honestly you weren’t sure he was even aware of it. He never wants to talk about these things, he’d rather have sex and show you how he feels by the way he delicately spreads your legs, teasingly kisses up your thighs and makes love to you.

But it also hurts that the only time he says he loves you, with the exception of the first few times, is when you feel like you have to force it out of him, or when he’s buried deep in your cunt.

“Are we gonna make it?” You whisper back. And for the first time in your relationship, find yourself wondering when this relationship will meet its inevitable end.

But maybe there is hope. He’s admitted this - maybe it’ll just take more time for him to find the words and continue learning to open up. 

Satoru kisses the top of your head, opening the restroom door and pulling you gently to his bed, laying down behind you and covering you both with a throw blanket before whispering back, “We’ll make it... Just don’t leave me.”

So you don’t.

@petalsrdead @sofiaconlaz @lovelylashawnalee @s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @desthevirgo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @musababy @sagejin @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @erenputurchildreninsideme @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui @sugurunicorn @niki-sun @lilith412426 @sofiaconlaz @lxvephxbic @iam-mia9 @laylasbunbunny @creolequeen11210 @xiaosie @lem-hhn @yogurttea @slut-jr @crystxlline @ritsatoru @abba-simp @myabae @etherealkakashi @hyperfixationsporfavor @yihona-san06 @ambersea7 @knightoflove

[anemonet]

happy art fight month to everyone participating (very fun)! anyhow time to post strange moon art on main :)

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤:

summary: what the one and only arthurtv would be like as your boyfriend

authors note: tysm for the request anon, i loved writing these! this man is literally a walking green flag like how is he even real. sorry for the slow uploads btw i've been super busy lately

please consider checking out my masterlist

-> the gentleman above all gentlemen istg

-> he's such a caring boyfriend. whenever you are sick or had a bad day, he seems to know exactly what you need and won't leave you alone until you feel better

-> literally gives the best hugs ever. i can't rlly explain it but I feel like his body just runs warm so he's really cozy and you always feel so secure when he's got his arms around you, cradling you into his chest

-> arthur makes getting out of bed in the morning so much more difficult simply because his cuddles are so comfy that you never want to leave

-> not super into pda, the most he will do in public is quick pecks but in private he is SUPER clingy, to the point where he's basically an extra limb

-> whether he's holding your hand/got an arm slung around your waist or has his head laid in your lap while watching tv, he's not happy unless he's touching you in some way

-> we all know arthur is a massive nerd, and you probably are too, so you often go on dates to museums or art galleries

-> also, zoo/aquarium dates are a must in your relationship. he loves to infodump random animal facts and you love to stare at him adoringly while he infodumps random animal facts

-> arthur is always so attentive to you, and notices every difference in your appearance and can tell when your mood changes even if you are trying to hide it from him

-> he also remembers all the little details about you, even the minor stuff you don't remember telling him, and you often joke that he knows you better than you do

-> shows his love for you through small acts of service like always having your favourite food stocked in his kitchen and learning your skincare routine so he can do it for you when you are too tired

-> would also give you his shoes without hesitation if your feet started hurting on a night out. he doesn't care how uncomfortable it is for him or that he looks like an idiot. he just wants you to feel as comfortable as possible

-> arthur absolutely adores the soft domestic moments together. very much a quality time person, and he loves that you can make even mundane chores seem more interesting

-> george and arthur hill like to tease him about being a simp, but they genuinely think its so sweet how happy being around you makes him

-> george once told you, when you were over at the boys' house and your boyfriend was in the bathroom, that in all the time they've known each other, he has never seen arthur smile as much as he did when he was with you

-> similar to george, he has a very busy work schedule so he tries to treasure the time you do have together. unfortunately, he does sometimes miss your dates due to filming overrunning but he always feels terrible and tries to make it up to you the best he can

-> your relationship is so sweet and supportive. you're the kind of couple that you can tell, just by looking at them, how inlove they are with each other

[vrystalius]

Yo! Hello its me again! Could i please request like a reverse isekai where the kny characters end up in reader's house? And maybe she is like Mad rich but like.. Not a spoiled brat she likes to do charity and make money for herself and maybe she is living with her cousins, she is smark but can be stupid (if you know what i mean) i don't know, you can do whatever you want, (there is not enough reverse isekai fanfictions😭), anyhow, hope you have a good day and you didn't get sick of my (a lot) requests😁🫶🏻👋🏻

Hashira getting reverse isekai’d

Your favourite hashira suddenly appeared inside your home! How will they react to your home and the modern world?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He will not adjust to this change quietly— he is ready to destroy and slice every single piece of tech that decides to randomly beep or talk to him. You once found Sanemi trying to get his katana out of your ceiling after throwing it with full force against your smoke detector, after it beeped to remind you to change battery. It scared the shit out of him, so he put an end to that thing. Often times when using your phone, Sanemi accidentally activates Siri. He first thought that a demon was speaking through the phone with some kind of blood demon art, then, after explaining to him what exactly Siri is and what she does, he just begins cursing her and cussing her out every time she activates on him. You once had to remind him not to grip it so tightly, or else your screen might crack.

A thing he really, really likes about your modern home though is your bathroom. The shower, the large mirror, sink, toilet… just everything about it. The first time he stepped into your shower and closed the glass door behind himself, Sanemi was first confused about the shower settings. He turned every knob that is able to be turned, both cooking himself alive and dodging the water in fear of freezing, achieving both of these things in one shower. Once he finally found the perfect temperature, it was time to test all of the products you have, and not sparingly. Shampoo, conditioner, hair masks, shower gel, body scrub and whatever else he could get his fingers on— once he got out of the shower and returned to you, his smell was almost overwhelming, but at least you know now that his har is somehow able to look even better than before.

After a long adjustment period, you sometimes catch Sanemi watching the TV. He made himself comfortable in a corner of your couch, cuddled up in heated blankets (he learned how to use the settings all by himself!) and watching one movie after another. He’s quite the binge-watcher apparently, watching one action movie after another for hours on end. At the end of such day, he’ll complain about his eyes burning up without having any idea how that happened.

“Hey, wanna join me? Blanket s’ warm and I found a movie about some weird metal things moving really, really fast and guys kicking each other’s asses— Huh? Cars? Are those these fast carriages sliding around on there?”

Kyojuro Rengoku

He is incredibly curious about every single thing and would try to understand how everything works. Kyojuro would inspect your microwave and press every button their is, watching the pizza pocket he threw into there react to the different settings and then grieving about how the once weird snacks he wanted to try turned into a piece of burnt remains. Despite being the most comfortable with the traditional meals he used to eat, Kyojuro would love to try any dish you even mentioned by name once! Since you can get your food delivered to your front door, Kyojuro can try as many different cultural dishes as he can get his hands on! Or as many as you can get delivered to tour home. Ordering food is something he always gets very excited about, like what do you mean you can order all kinds of cultural food in a matter of minutes? How do the restaurants have all the ingredients available and are always ready to serve customers? And why do you refuse to order a so-called Happy Meal for him? Isn’t it supposed to make one happy?

Another thing Kyojuro is very excited about is the gym. He accidentally stumbled upon a fitness center after returning from buying groceries, staring at the people training inside with those weird machines. The hashira spotted a couple of people build broader and stronger than him, making him realise that this may be some kind of modern training ground. He begged on his hands and knees for a membership so he can explore all these new machines and weight excursuses. Once Kyojuro got inside, he was like a child in a candyshop. He spend the whole day testing out every machine, noting his own limits and setting goals on how to get even stronger. Despite no demons terrorising your world, he still wants to keep his muscles and gain strength to offer nice pillows you can lay your head on and also have the ability to open sealed jars for you without struggling.

“Can we order sweet potato tonight? I miss eating it, and it’s my comfort dish…. Also, I believe I may have started to develop homesickness. I miss my brother the most, though… Not that I don’t like it here, I love it! I just miss my father and brother, that’s all.”

Giyu Tomioka

Staying true to his nature, Giyu would be silent and awkward in this new space. He’s scared of offending you in any way but simply taking his haori off or sitting down onto your couch since he has no idea about the manners and behaviours expected from him in this world, but at the same time doesn’t bother to ask you in order to not burden you in any way. So, he quietly followed you around the house in and inspect your furniture and decorations, sometimes curiously picking something up and inspecting its function. His favourite object so far is a rubix cube he found on your desk. You caught him turn the sides, trying to understand what the point of this thing is. Does it have something on the inside? Why are the colours all scrambled up? While watching his irritation grow because of not being able to sort the colours, you suggested that Giyu can keep it and try to solve it after giving him a small briefing on what the point of the cube is. Thanking you, he kept the rubix cube on his body to play around with it whenever he has time. He is seriously invested in it and really wants to solve it in order to prove to himself that he can solve a complex puzzle and to maybe even impress you a little.

Also, you discovered that Giyu likes noise-canceling headphones, music and e-books. You often find him cuddled up together on your sofa, his face illuminated by your Ipad in his hands. You could hear the faint sounds of soft and slow music from the headphones he was wearing. He looks incredibly invested in whatever he is reading, so you snuck up on him and glanced over his shoulder, reading a couple of lines. It wasn’t a fantasy story or a random novel like you thought, but Giyu was actually reading an article about the behaviour of cats. Adorable, you thought, so you left him be and went on with your day. The water hashira eyed your form as you left, sneakily switching tabs and returning to what he was actually reading: a fluffy romance novel. He looks over his shoulder twice, thrice, checking if you are still near before feeling comfortable enough to continue his reading in peace.

“Can I borrow your.. headphones? They’re called headphones, right? Yes, I’d like to borrow them again. I want to use them to have more silence, you are being very loud and I wanted to read something.”

💠

You never bother me with your requests! They are always so fun to write for!! Also, I hope it’s okay I kind of “simplified” your request— I hope you enjoyed this anyway. Also, I didn’t include Gyomei because I was unsure of what exactly to write for him, but I may update this tomorrow and a small scenario for him <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[egcdeath]

sealing the deal

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you and patrick make a few unique business proposals to each other.

word count: 7k

warnings: succession au – tomshiv dynamic (pre-failmarriage), proposals (business and romantic), fluff, a little angst, mentions of a dad being very sick/almost dying, lots of exposition/background on the relationship, art cameo, a little domesticity, established relationship

author’s note: you don’t have to know anything about succession to enjoy this fic! i’ll explain everything that you need to know. if you’re a diehard succession fan i can’t promise that everything will be completely faithful to the source material but it definitely takes a lot of inspiration from tom and shiv’s dynamic.

i wanted to give a HUGE thank you to my succession anon who gave me so much help and guidance for this fic and basically ended up being my co-author for this fic! i hope you all enjoy :)

It wasn’t always easy loving the youngest son of the owner of a multi-billion dollar media conglomerate. 

In fact, most of the time, it was quite the opposite. 

Even without Patrick working in his family’s business, it always felt a little bit like you were in a competition for brain space and time with his family and career, and you were losing. Badly. 

You weren’t exactly sure that you knew what you signed up for when you first met Patrick—connected to each other by a mutual friend you went to business school with, whom you’d begged to try to set you two up for career advancement purposes more than anything else. 

“You know that guy you keep asking me about?” your friend asked you after taking a hefty sip from the drink the bartender just passed her. 

“Patrick Zweig?” you asked, not bothering to pretend like you didn’t know who she was talking about. 

“Yeah!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You weren’t sure where she was going with this subject, but you were intrigued by her mention of the man and her apparent entertainment at the situation. 

“What about him?” you asked, perversely curious as to why she was bringing him up now. 

“I invited him to come out with us tonight!” she laughed once more as she divulged this information, as if it wasn’t shocking news to you.  

“What? What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me before!” you practically yelled at her over the sound of loud music and other bar patrons. You suddenly felt very self conscious. If you’d known you were going to meet Patrick Zweig tonight, you would’ve put yourself together, rather than coming straight from work to the bar. 

“I wanted to surprise you!” she continued with her giggling at a situation that you did not find nearly as humorous. “Oh my god. I wish you could see your face right now.”

“I hate you!” you laughed, thinking that maybe this was some sort of prank. “You’re joking, then?”

“No, he’s really coming. He just got back from D.C. and wanted to meet with me. I asked if my hot friend could come along and he was like, ‘Obviously!’”

You groaned aloud. This wasn’t how you intended to make your first impression on him.

“Okay, well, what’s his type?” you asked her, hoping to get a bit of insight before you were launched right into what might end up being your first date. You were sure that you would make a good impression if you showed up as you were, but you wanted to be better than good. You didn’t want to be just another forgettable notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, taking a sip from her drink. “Hot? A nice ass? A little mean? Isn’t that every guy’s type?”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough for me,” you replied. You wanted to have a strategy going into this. You would’ve appreciated at least a small briefing before meeting someone so intimidating. 

“I am, you just check all the boxes already. Just be yourself and I’m sure things will work out fine,” she assured you. 

Her assurance was well warranted, considering that things worked out far better than fine. In fact, your friend was overdue for a fruit basket—one that you would be paying for with Patrick’s credit card as you sat in the dining room of your shared penthouse apartment, after you wrapped up a day of work in the skyscraper that was his father’s corporate headquarters. 

At the time, you had a slight idea of who he was, but you had an even better idea of who his family was. Anyone who owned a television would be familiar with his family’s corporation—from the causal channel surfers who passed one of their many news channels during their search for the newest episode of The Bachelor, to the thousands of people with their logo burned into their device screen from the hours they spent with their eyes locked on the 24-hour stream of borderline propaganda. 

Beyond his impressive family, you’d heard whispers and rumors about Patrick for a long time. Between headlines in gossip magazines and stories from your mutual friend, you learned that he’d entered the political world as an attempt to make a name for himself outside of his family name, but struggled to be taken seriously for many years due to the less than stellar reputation that came with being a Zweig.

Although, rumors about his career were just the tip of the iceberg. Gossip about his tumultuous relationships���if they could even be called that—and history of partying far too hard often ran wild, making you believe that your initial meetings with Patrick would be nothing more than a few hookups and sweet talking yourself into a new job. After all, there was no better pillow talk than an elevator pitch. 

At first, your plan seemed like it was right on track. You ended your first night together in the early morning, finding yourself in Patrick’s apartment for hours. Your night hadn’t really ever ended, with the two of you leaving the bar together, having some of the best sex of your life in a bed that felt a little bit like laying on a cloud, then proceeding to talk for hours until it was time for you to go back to work. You smiled to yourself as you sat in the backseat of Patrick’s car, exhausted from the long night and a little uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, but mostly enthusiastic after your surprisingly eventful night with the man. 

It was a strange turn of events from what you initially expected. While you couldn’t be too sure what you were getting yourself into when you learned you were being set up on a date, you assumed that Patrick would be like any other rich asshole you’d gone out on dates with, who got what they wanted from you, sent you off on your merry way, then never spoke to you again. You quickly discovered that he was unlike anyone you’d ever been with before. 

Patrick seemed to be full of surprises, and the fact that you were going on multiple dates with him in the first place was one of those very surprises. You hadn’t expected to go on any more than three dates before you asked about working for his family, securing yourself a job, then leaving him alone. 

What took you by even greater surprise were the dates themselves. What started as an intimate dinner in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city ended with you at a terrible 24-hour diner, treating Patrick to his first slice of cherry pie as you talked into the wee hours of the morning. 

Your subsequent dates went similarly, with the two of you talking endlessly about anything and everything. Patrick was someone full of surprises—he was far from the rich asshole you expected him to be, and more like a knowledgeable politics nerd with a lot of money. 

You talked for hours about big things, like why Patrick decided to pursue a career as a political strategist and what brought you to New York City, but you also found it easy to discuss small random things with him, spending an extended period of time discussing how you named your cat, and debating on the best restaurant in the city. 

You always thought of yourself as being somewhat agreeable and friendly when it came to conversation, but your discussions with Patrick took you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’d ever clicked with someone the way you clicked with him, and it made you as excited as it made you nervous. 

By the time you worked up the nerve to ask Patrick about working for his family, you were already beat to the punch. The two of you were tucked into the booth that you’d recently declared as yours in the same diner that you seemed to be spending all of your all-nighters in, reclining comfortably in the particularly uncomfortable seats. 

“Do you like the business side of things?” Patrick asked you, stirring a flattening Diet Coke with a straw. 

“It’s fun,” you dismissed. “It’s less fun going to work on a half-hour of sleep.”

“Shut up. You love it,” the man across from you laughed, an admittedly very handsome half-smile on his face. “I mean it though. Do you like what you’re doing?”

“It pays the bills, I guess. I like the work, but I’m not huge on the company. All the politics and the instability with layoffs lately… It isn’t exactly ideal.”

“Would you ever work for my family?” he asked. “I mean, you’re just wasting potential elsewhere. I really think they could use someone like you on their team.”

“Seriously?” you asked, partially surprised at the proposition, but mostly surprised that you weren’t the one to ask in the first place. Across the table, Patrick listened to you intently. “I mean, If they’d have me, I’d love to work for them.”

“My dad mentioned something about them looking for some new blood. I can put in a good word for you, if that sounds interesting to you.”

“Is this because I showed you the joys of a slice of diner cherry pie?” you joked, trying not to let on just how overjoyed you were about this opportunity. 

“You got me. And now that you mention it, we should probably order another slice,” he suggested, going along with your joke. “You’re smart and you clearly know your shit. Besides, I’m mostly doing it for myself. It’ll be nice to have someone around at company Christmas parties who can actually keep up with me.”

“Well, thank you,” you replied calmly, though you were doing somersaults in your mind. “I look forward to drinking eggnog and singing Mariah Carey songs with you.”

In retrospect, you recognized this action as the first of his many wordless declarations of love. You later learned that Patrick did everything he could to avoid talking business with his family, as it was clearly a sore spot for everyone involved. Realizing that he’d gone out of his way to get you a job had been an even more kind gesture than you knew at the time. 

While you initially expected your fling to taper off after Patrick fulfilled his end of the business deal he didn’t even know he was facilitating, your relationship did nothing of the sort. In fact, his favor seemed to have the opposite effect on your bond. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were courting each other like lovesick Jane Austen protagonists. In another shocking turn of events, Patrick ordered flowers to your doorstep each morning and took you on lavish dates, while you began to take four-hour long train rides to and from D.C. each weekend to visit him, and frequently sent him rambling love letters. 

While you hadn’t expected for your relationship to unfold the way that it did, you genuinely loved Patrick. You loved the way his eyes crinkled when you told him something stupid that he’d laugh at, or how he leaned in to whisper something judgmental in your ear about someone you mutually disliked during family events. You loved the way his hand felt in yours and the way his mind worked, which he frequently displayed to you while discussing his latest political strategy. You even loved when he minced words to describe how he felt about you, knowing that though the word ‘love’ might never leave his lips, his actions spoke far louder than his voice ever could. 

It just so happened that you loved his proximity to power, too. 

While his money and power might have piqued your interest initially, it didn’t change the fact that the two of you quickly clicked. You had a natural chemistry, with you matching Patrick’s flirty words and actions with ease. It also just so happened that you entered each other's lives at the perfect time, with you in dire need of a career upgrade, and Patrick in need of someone unafraid to show him more affection and care than he was willing to give. 

Though he wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, you quickly became a tenured professor in Patrick-ology. You were certain that this played a role in why Patrick liked you so much in the first place—being somewhat emotionally stunted, he needed someone who could understand his thoughts without him having to explicitly say every detail, and you did exactly that. 

This skill worked out surprisingly well for you. You gave him the love and understanding that he’d been looking for and missing for all of his adult life, and you got to reap the benefits that came with being in a relationship with someone in one of the most powerful families in the world. 

Despite your more humble beginnings, you quickly became familiar with luxurious items and activities. You also quickly learned that no matter how prepared you thought you were for that level of wealth—you weren’t. You couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times your unfamiliarity with certain norms left you as the laughing stock of the family. 

But it wasn’t all corner offices in skyscrapers and helicopter rides. During the honeymoon phase of your relationship, it certainly felt like it, but the cracks in your foundation became more and more evident every day. 

The thing was, as much as you two cared about each other, there was a family shaped shadow that loomed over everything that you did. It was clear that you were an outsider in Patrick’s family. Coming from an upper-middle class Midwestern background, you were often made to feel like you were a stupid gold-digger, only staying around your boyfriend for power, rather than love. At times, you wondered if his family knew what love was at all. 

The love, or lack thereof in Patrick’s family was what shocked you most of all. It was no secret that his father was unnecessarily cruel to all of his children, but particularly to his siblings trying to work their way into more serious positions in the company. Patrick somehow managed to dodge that particular flavor of cruelty, with him very obviously being his father’s favorite and working outside of the family business, but the emotional scars his father left still lingered. 

But his father’s presence didn’t just loom over him, it was beginning to loom over you, too. Not only in the extreme intimidation you felt when having to interact with him, but in the small acts of callousness Patrick showed you throughout the course of your relationship. 

It began as small things, things that bothered you less the more you got used to them. Like how he always seemed to unconsciously belittle your work, not even bothering to seem interested in the recaps you gave of your day before he launched into a story of his own about the candidate he was working with. Though you tried your hardest to fight through your smaller pet peeves with him, Patrick’s inability to be straightforward about his emotions felt like the cherry on top of an already painful sundae.

Regardless of all of the flaws, bumps, and roadblocks in your relationship, you promised to yourself that you would be in Patrick’s corner, no matter how ugly things got or how poorly he treated you. Not only out of your own self-interest, but out of your love for the man, and the knowledge of how difficult his upbringing made certain things for him. 

Which was why when you got the call from Patrick that something had gone terribly wrong with his father while coming back from his birthday celebration, you didn’t hesitate to rush to the hospital, encouraging your driver to speed all the way to the building. 

When you arrived, he and his siblings were in disarray in a way you’d never seen before. His father, who was typically a presence that towered over everyone in the room, was reduced to an old man hooked up to a number of machines. His older sisters, who were always either waiting for the moment to swoop in and make a crude joke or waiting in the wings to discuss the next business strategy, paced back and forth endlessly, clearly feeling the pressure of their sick father.

Patrick sat alone on an uncomfortable chair, peering helplessly into the observation room. It was rare for you to see him with his feelings written so openly across his face, even after years of being in a relationship with him. That concerned you.

You made quick work of walking over to Patrick, whose tensed-up shoulders slightly dropped as you took a seat next to him. Though he wouldn’t ever tell you this, you knew that your presence made him feel more supported and a little more safe, though you being or not being in the hospital clearly wouldn’t have an impact on if his father lived or died. 

“Hey,” he greeted you, immediately squeezing your hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said weakly, as if he was fighting off a new round of tears. In that moment, you so desperately wanted to take some of his emotions for yourself, knowing that Patrick hated feeling any feeling, let alone such negative feelings to such a serious degree. 

“Of course, honey,” you reassured him, running what you hoped would be a grounding hand up and down his arm. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Water? A snack? I saw that burger place you like on my way over.”

“No, nothing right now,” he sighed. You inspected him cautiously, knowing that he wasn’t exactly one to always say what he meant. “Really,” he assured you, though you didn’t completely buy it. 

Since he wasn’t in the mood for more material items, you decided that the best course of action was a little affection. He wasn’t always the biggest fan of receiving affection in front of his family, but you figured that in a time where he was uncertain if his father would live or die, he would appreciate a little outward support. 

You laid your head on his shoulder and angled your body closer to his. Not expecting any response, you were surprised when Patrick kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’d be in trouble if someone overheard him. 

You held his hand as the two of you sat for hours, only getting up to stretch your legs or take phone calls from friends with insight on other high-end medical facilities that might be able to better accommodate Patrick’s father. 

You did your best to give Patrick his space when he needed it, as he floated between two of his siblings—one of which was focused mainly on the future of the company, and the other in a state of denial about the state of her father—then back to you when he could no longer stand the chaos of his sisters. 

It was a stressful scene, and one that was clearly too much for your boyfriend, who went back and forth between wanting to be glued at your hip, and wanting to be left completely alone. You’d seen Patrick stressed in the past, with him chatting your ear off as he waited for his candidate’s election results, or as he prepared to give a speech at an event, but you’d never seen him like this. 

He almost seemed fragile, like one wrong word or action might break him. It frightened you to see him in such a state. Again, you lamented not being able to take some of his pain for yourself. 

In the time that you waited without any word from any doctors, a few gears began to turn in your mind. Life was so fleeting, which was proven by Patrick’s mighty father falling so seemingly easily. Really, it could’ve been any of you sitting on that table with tubes and monitors attached to you. If it were Patrick who was sitting on that gurney, you would be an absolute wreck. If he somehow died, you also wouldn’t technically be a widow, despite your long-term relationship with the man. 

All of it made you wonder if you should just bite the bullet and propose to Patrick.

Sure, it wasn’t the best timing ever. Sure, you’d always imagined yourself being on the receiving end of a grand proposal, especially from someone like Patrick. But maybe he would appreciate the gesture—giving him a distraction to take away some of his pain, and giving him one final grand milestone with you while his dad was still alive. 

To a lesser extent, being married would provide you with certain protections you didn’t have while you were only his long-term girlfriend. Obviously, you didn’t want to think of anything bad happening to your boyfriend, but accidents and tragedies could happen at any point, and it was better to be prepared than to be sorry. 

It felt right that you might be able to join his family during a time where he was losing a family member. Not only for his sake, but because losing their patriarch meant unprecedented instability in his family. You wanted to be sure of your spot amongst them, after you’d grown used to the privileges that came with being Patrick’s girlfriend. 

You fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger, a family heirloom passed from generation to generation onto you. It was no expensive piece of jewelry, and it certainly wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was incredibly meaningful to you—a symbol of your family, which was extremely important to you. Patrick knew just how much you valued the ring and exactly what it represented to you, so in turn, you hoped that if you gave it to him, he would understand how much he meant to you. 

Getting up from where you’d been sitting for far too long, you began to pace the hallways of the hospital, wondering about the timing of your now imminent proposal. As you shuffled through the sterile building, you surprised yourself as you came across your partner. 

“Patrick!” you said with a start after unexpectedly catching a glimpse of him. 

“Hey,” he greeted unenthusiastically before beginning to walk right past you. 

“Wait,” you grabbed onto his arm before he could fully walk away, encouraging him to look right at you. It was now or never, and the words were on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this right now,” he dismissed, his voice monotone and listless. 

“You do, though. Patrick, listen,” he didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, but was prepared to listen to you anyway. You knew you only had a few seconds to pitch your proposition before you lost him, so you spat out your words rather than beating around the bush. “Let’s get married.”

“What?” he looked at you with brows drawn in confusion. It wasn’t exactly the ideal reaction to your proposal, but then again it wasn’t much of a proposal. “Right now?”

“Obviously not now, but… soon?” as you spoke, you began the process of slipping the ring off your middle finger and attempting to present it to him in the palm of your hand. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic or put together proposal, but it felt right to be offering him such a grand and personal gesture while everything else was going sideways in his life. 

“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I thought that maybe I could make things a little better with your dad and… I don’t know. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t want to wonder about what we could’ve been and-” you rambled on before you were interrupted with a sigh. 

“Honey, you can’t just make my dad dying better,” he rubbed his temple exasperatedly, then looked between you and the ring you were presenting him with. “If you wanted to make me feel better, you should’ve just brought me coffee.”

You frowned at him, knowing that you’d offered him that very thing earlier and he turned you down. You wondered if your communication would ever improve—or if it even needed to improve, since this proposal was going so poorly that you’d probably leave the hospital single. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you closed your palm and put your hand in the pocket of your jacket, fully prepared for Patrick to tell you to fuck all the way off. It had been stupid for you to think that Patrick would appreciate such a grand gesture during such a terrible time. 

“Wait,” Patrick stopped you, now reaching for your arm. “My answer isn’t a no, it’s just… I don’t want this to be the memory. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Doing all the work of getting your hand out of your pocket, he grabbed the ring you presented him with to further prove his words and slipped it on his ringer. It only fit halfway down his finger, but he kept it on regardless. 

“Really?” you said, suddenly perking up.

“Duh,” he replied, looking a little shy as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he briefly looked away from you, as if his feelings were so strong that he couldn’t even manage to look you in the eye. 

You couldn’t contain your excitement at his answer, jumping and squealing a little bit as you pulled him into an overly enthusiastic hug. You heard the familiar sound of Patrick laughing quietly in your ear as you squeezed him. Though he always seemed to hold back his emotions, you knew that he was just as excited as you were to be promised to one another.

You pulled him into a soft kiss, draping your arms around his neck, holding him as close as you could until he inevitably pushed you away. 

Patrick surprised you with how long he was willing to embrace you, clearly in need of a little bit of comfort after such an emotionally exhausting night. You surprised yourself when you ended up being the person to pull away. 

“Should we go check on our family?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement around finally being in. 

“I just need a second,” he told you, glancing down the hallway before pulling you into yet another embrace. He pressed his face into your hair, soothing himself with your scent and presence. You rubbed circles into his back and muttered something about him taking all the time he needed.

You were interrupted by one of Patrick’s sisters, whose voice called out your names down the hallway. “When you two are finished with your snuggle-fest, the doctor has news for us.”

“Wait, what?” Patrick pushed you away quickly, his tune changing in an instant.

“Good news, I think. But move your asses. C’mon,��� she directed, already turning away and Patrick quickly following her. 

If you were experiencing an emotional rollercoaster, you couldn’t even begin to understand how Patrick was feeling. Finding out his dad was sick, being proposed to, and immediately hearing more news about his father in the span of just a few hours must’ve felt unreal. 

You sat quietly and observed from the sidelines as a doctor took them into their father’s room and filled in the siblings on the state of him. They all seemed to share a collective sigh of relief, and though you couldn’t hear the exact news from where you were sitting, you knew that it must’ve been good. 

When Patrick came back to you, he had a hint of a sad smile on his face. “Ready to go?” he asked you. 

He didn’t need you to ask twice. You were more than prepared to escape the too-bright lights, sickeningly sterile scent, and the feeling of sadness that seemed to be hanging in the air of the hospital. 

Your driver was a welcome sight, with him giving you a quiet greeting as the two of you got in the backseat of the car. As he drove, Patrick reached for your hand, which you gladly gave up to him. 

In the following minutes, Patrick crept over further into your space until he sat directly beside you, leaning his head on you with his eyes closed. The long day was surely taking its toll, with the anxiety of his dad being in such dire straits, and the excitement and confusion of you proposing to him. 

His sleep was well earned. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then closed your own eyes, letting the soft sound of the early morning city traffic lull you to sleep. 

In the following days, you could tell that something wasn’t quite right with Patrick. At first, you chalked it up to nerves around his father’s health, but that didn’t seem to be it. Typically, when Patrick was really anxious about something, his silence on the elephant-sized topic gave him away. While you’d heard quite a bit about the state of his father from him—whether it was an update sent to him by his step-mother or an actual visit to the man—you hadn’t heard a peep about your engagement since the day after you got engaged. 

On the other hand, you were struggling to keep the news to yourself, despite the request of Patrick. You wanted to scream the announcement from the rooftops, but in the early morning after you returned from the hospital, Patrick made his position very clear: Wait a little while for things to blow over before you started telling people– your friends and family included. 

Despite the fact that he wore your ring every day since the day that you’d given it to him, something about his behavior told you that it was that very ring that was giving him so much internal conflict. 

In the past few years of knowing Patrick, you learned that he was a bit of a control freak. You wondered how out of control it made him feel for you to be the person to propose to him. Part of you wondered if you should’ve even proposed in the first place if it was going to be an issue. Maybe you should’ve let him do things on his own timeline, rather than making him feel nervous or insecure in your relationship.

But at the same time, Patrick initially seemed rather entertained by the idea of you getting married. In the morning after your engagement, he couldn’t stop referring to you as Mrs. Zweig. At the desk of your brand new office, given to you after a serious promotion, you found a box of expensive chocolates with a note fondly referring to you as his fiancé. As you laid next to him in bed that night, he pulled up the profiles of three separate wedding planners and asked you about your preference in people. 

It almost felt like his feelings on your engagement were constantly fluctuating between being excited to be with you forever, and being terrified of that very commitment. Things weren’t made any better by Patrick’s professional-level ability to dodge questions, especially questions related to how he genuinely felt. 

“C’mon, you know how I feel,” he replied to you after you directly asked him over breakfast. He lifted his mug casually, subconsciously putting space between the two of you. 

“Pat, I don’t. That’s why I asked,” you forced out a laugh, though the situation wasn’t exactly funny to you. If Patrick didn’t want to marry you, you didn’t want to force him to do so. 

“But you always know how I feel,” he said with a bit of a pout and a whine—what you called his ‘let me get away with it’ demeanor that he often used with his family—before setting down his coffee and standing up. 

“Not this time,” you explained, standing up as well and abandoning the plate of half-eaten eggs in front of you. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he dismissed your concerns and stepped close enough to you to hold your face in both of his hands. 

“Love you?” you asked, hoping that if he could confirm that at the very least, you might have a better understanding of what was going through his head. 

“Of course,” he said genuinely, though he didn’t offer you any parroting of those words. Instead, he dropped his hands from your cheeks and kissed one of them. “Have a good day at work, okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks,” you tried not to look as annoyed as you actually felt as you made quick work of grabbing your work bag and leaving. You needed some time to make sense of it all. 

The situation only became more complicated as you sat down in a conference room, mentally preparing yourself to make your first big presentation as the newly vetted Head of Parks and Cruises division. You cared greatly about what your peers thought about you, so you couldn’t deny the nerves running through your veins. 

These nerves only increased when you caught a glimpse of Patrick from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the conference room, shaking hands with people on your floor and clearly making cordial small talk. 

You desperately hoped that he was there to wish you luck on your presentation, and not to pick your conversation from the morning back up. You bitterly thought about how he couldn’t have picked a worse time as he waved at you from the window. You stiffly waved back, not exactly in the mood to be interrupted right before a big presentation. 

“Hey, if I don’t make it back for whatever reason, you can do this presentation, right?” you asked quietly, leaning into your newly-hired assistant’s ear. 

“Wait, what?” he asked you, brows furrowing. “I don’t know, I haven’t practiced or anything, and-“

“Perfect,” you replied, not listening to a single word he was rambling out. “Just read off the slides. You’ll be okay.”

You didn’t bother staying to listen to Art ramble in your ear about how he didn’t know what he was doing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one presenting, and if he absolutely had to, he’d probably be fine. 

You shut the door behind you, politely waving at one of your co-workers as they entered the conference room. You made your way to Patrick and stood with your arms crossed against your chest, trying to strike a good balance between showing him how agitated you were, and not trying to further agitate your fiancé, who seemed to be in a particularly fragile mental state lately. 

“Hi honey, is anything important going on?” Patrick asked once you stood across from him. 

“Actually, yeah. Is there any way we could chat a little later? Like maybe an hour or two?” you suggested. “I can block some time off on my calendar for you and everything.”

“I’m sure whatever it is isn’t more important than this,” he glanced over at the conference room as he spoke to demonstrate his point. You wished you could explain to him how far that was from the truth.

“What is it?” you asked, your patience beginning to grow thin.

“You’ll have to see. Come with me?” he offered. 

“Patrick, I’m in the middle of a meeting!” you whisper-shouted, trying to keep your voice down and your body language mostly neutral, so your colleagues couldn’t observe how much you were freaking out as you talked to your partner. 

“It hasn’t started yet,” he dismissed casually. “They’ll be fine without you. I won’t be fine without you.”

You eyed him suspiciously. 

“Please,” he added, as if you’d ever be able to say no to him—though you were pretty tempted to do so. 

“Fine,” you gave in with a small, soft sigh. That didn’t deter Patrick at all, who seemed uncharacteristically excited as the two of you sat in the backseat of his car. 

“So where are we going? Or, what are we doing?” you asked, trying to ignore the terrible feeling in your gut that you felt about leaving your meeting. 

“It’s a surprise,” Patrick said coyly. “It’ll be more fun than that meeting, though.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, looking out the window. You hoped that whatever romantic gesture Patrick planned would be worth losing the respect of all of your peers. You wondered what you could tell them that would make your absence seem acceptable. Family emergency? It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t quite the truth either. 

When your ride stopped and you stepped out of the vehicle, you were surprised to find yourself at the diner that you spent the majority of your first few dates at, splitting pieces of pie and talking each other’s ears off for hours. 

“Craving some cherry pie?” you asked him curiously. Obviously, this seemed like a task he could’ve handled on his own, coming to the diner himself or having his driver buy and deliver him a whole pie, but you figured that maybe he was simply in the mood for some nostalgic comfort. In the midst of such chaos, you would be happy to give that to him. 

“It’s been too long,” he shrugged before grabbing your hand.

Patrick led you to the booth that you declared as yours all those years ago, and began to chat your ear off like normal. While you wanted to think about work, it was surprisingly easy to forget about the real world when you were in such a nostalgic place with him. 

The two of you ordered your old usual order, only enhancing the feeling of nostalgia as you shared a plate of painfully average pancakes and a slice of cherry pie.

“Ew, what is that?” you laughed after you bit into something hard and gross. “This fucking place,” you muttered, looking for a napkin that you could spit out whatever it was that you almost just consumed. 

When you glanced down at the napkin, you were shocked to find what looked like a metal ring covered in cherry syrup. “Oh shit. Do you think this belonged to someone?” 

Once you looked up, you were shocked to find Patrick holding a black velvet box, one that you’d seen before nearly a year ago as you deep-cleaned your shared bedroom, one that you chalked up as a gift for his mother or a friend. 

“Patrick?” you asked, clearly confused. He parroted your name right back to you and opened up the box, showing you one of the most beautiful rings you ever laid your eyes on. 

Suddenly, it made sense why he asked you to come out with him, interrupting you in the middle of the day to take you to a diner where you shared so many memories. Sure, he could’ve waited until you got off work, but you figured he was thinking about your conversation from the morning and wanted to do something that would show you how much he truly cared about you. He’d always been better at bigger gestures than verbally sharing his feelings, so part of you remained unsurprised. 

“I first fell in love with you here, so it only felt right to bring you back here to ask you to marry me?” he explained, not breaking eye contact with you. He was never one for a soapbox when it came to sharing his feelings, so his proposal was short and straight to the point. Though, you wondered if he had more words prepared that he simply couldn’t get out. Based on the speed of his leg bouncing under the table, you knew that Patrick was nervous out of his mind—despite him already knowing what your answer was. 

You recalled what Patrick told you in the hospital about not wanting your proposal to be the memory—the memory you told others about when you shared the news, or fondly recalled to your kids in ten years when you reminisced on your love story. 

If accepting his proposal now, and acting like his proposal was the only proposal made him feel better, you didn’t see any reason why you wouldn’t fully lean into it.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, genuinely being surprised at the offer, but playing up your excitement for the sake of your nervous fiancé. “Of course I’ll marry you, Pat.”

Patrick broke into a toothy grin, his excitement contagious to you. “Give me your hand,” he directed, taking the ring out of the box. 

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and it somehow looked even better on your finger than it did in the box. You looked at it in amazement curling and uncurling your hand to look at the ring from all of its angles. 

“It’s gorgeous, Patrick. Thank you,” you told him earnestly as you looked from your hand to him. You weren’t surprised by the quality of the ring or even that he found something that you liked so much. Growing up with lavish gifts constantly being given as an expression of ‘love’ made Patrick pretty damn good at giving you gifts. As for the other expressions of love… he wasn’t the best. But he was very obviously trying his best for you, and you loved that about him. 

In some ways, your proposals felt like the perfect encapsulation of your roles in your relationship. While you offered Patrick a ring with little monetary, but high emotional value, he gave you a ring that was probably more expensive than you could ever fathom, that didn’t have the same emotional ties that your family heirloom of a ring did. 

Beyond the appearance or symbolism behind your rings, and despite your very different proposals, you were ecstatic to be engaged to Patrick. It only felt right that after years of loving the man, you two were finally making things official in the legal sense. 

As you peered at your shyly smiling fiancé, you couldn’t help but break out into a grin yourself. You underestimated just how exciting it would be for you to be starting a new chapter of your relationship. 

[talaok]

Hey, I just want to tell you that I like your fanfics so much! and you're truly an amazing writer! Can I please have one shot where the reader asks Pedro to join her on her skin care routine? like it's all so fluffy, and P just keeps looking at her and pecking her lips at the same time. I hope you see this. Thank you so much. We love you, bestie!

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: thank you so incredibly much love <3, im sorry for the wait, this beautiful request truly deserved better, and of course, i love you too babe❤️

Pedro had always liked to watch you, you'd learned that quickly.

He liked to watch you when you were doing your make-up, cursing at your products when they didn't do their job right, he liked admiring you while you chose what to wear, that cute pensive frown always on your forehead, he liked seeing you put on lotion and bake those amazing cakes you baked, and finally, he liked watching you do your skincare.

He always prolonged his own routine in the bathroom at night just so he could be present for your little ritual of cleansers and serums and creams whose names he couldn't even pronounce, but today, today something had changed, and he'd decided he didn't want to only watch, 

"You want to try?" your lips pulled into a smile as he nodded, his arms around your torso and his head between your shoulder and neck as he hugged you from behind, admiring your face from the mirror

"wanna see what all the fuss is about" he murmured, kissing your neck "What makes my wife abandon me in bed for twenty minutes every night"

You gasped, laughing as you feigned offense

"I have never abandoned you in bed, you're always here with me"

"mhh" he hummed contemplating, inhaling your scent as he tightened his hug "Whatever you say sweetheart" he murmured with that shit-eating grin plastered on his face "now, where do we start?"

He moved to your side, his gaze attentively examining the products filling the counter as if he knew what any of them did.

"first" you started explaining, picking up your oil cleanser and a detergent "we've gotta wash our face"

"I did already"

You glared at him, disappointed at the fact that even after all this time, he still had learned nothing

"it's not washing your face if it's just with water baby, you need a detergent, here" you handed him the white tub and he only opened and closed his mouth as he accepted the product in his hands.

"You're not gonna use this?" he asked, watching as you squeezed some other product in your hand "is this the cheap one?"

"no" you snorted "I just need to use another cleanser before that one cause I'm wearing make up honey"

"oh" he breathed "of course- I knew that"

You both laughed softly at his obvious lie as he squeezed an ungodly amount of detergent onto his hand just to slap it on his face and started rubbing it in with the same delicacy with which he changed a tire

"baby you're not washing the dishes, you've gotta be gentle" you laughed, watching him open his soapy eyes to look at you

"oh- like... this?" he asked, trying to mimic the gentle massage you were giving your own face

"that's better" you nodded, smiling proudly before taking the residues of your makeup off with a cloth

He rinsed his face and watched you as you did what he'd just done, and finally, finally, you asked him something you had no idea how you'd never asked before

"why do you always look at me?" you said, rinsing the detergent off "I'm not gonna disappear into thin air you know?"

He chuckled, his manly and deep voice bouncing from the bathroom tiles

"Are you?" he asked, taking a step so he was once again, right before you, his fingers moving some hair out of your face and lingering on your cheek

"I look at you, because I don't get to do it enough, because it's all I would spend my days doing" he murmured, droplets of water from your face and his hands falling to the ground as your heart sped up "because you're a work of art sweetheart, and because in everything you do, I see all the reasons I love you"

There it is, the man you married, able to melt you up with just a few words, spoken like they didn't seem picked up off a book, like he wasn't the best man you could have ever wished for, like you didn't love him to goddamn death

You didn't say anything, you never could when he said stuff like that, you only spoke through your eyes, through that invisible bond between you, the words lingering on your tongue

I love you

Before you kissed him, the same feeling, the same message, finding him with it.

"that" you smiled "Is why you're never allowed to make speeches before me ever again" 

God only knew how much you had scolded him for making you look like a fool at your own wedding when he made you and half the guests weep with his vows while yours looked like a child wrote them in comparison.

he chuckled, kissing you again, before you mumbled something about finishing the skincare and he pulled away, a grin from ear to ear on both your faces

he followed all your instructions, first came the exfoliating stuff, then the serum, then the creams,

He watched diligently as you showed him how to execute every step, and then copied you, his hands still moving a bit too roughly on his skin.

the only change he brought to your routine, was the kiss he couldn't help but steal from you after every step he accomplished, a soft and quick one, just because he could, just because he wanted, just because you looked cute as ever, and there was only so much he could do to keep his hands off of you.

And after everything was done, after your skin glowed as you looked at your reflection, his eyes too, focusing only on you as his arms wrapped around you, he decided

"I think I should join you every night"

[aothotties]

Sneaky Link w/ Connie

Warnings: MDNI, jealousy, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, semi-public sex, hickies, not proof read :)

Word Count: 1257

_______

Once Connie turned 18, he packed up and moved out of his parents home. He wasn’t forced to do it, he’s just always wanted to do his own thing. 

He moved in with his boys, started a small business with them too, and even decided he really fucks with tattoos. 

That is where he met you, his own personal tattoo artist. You’ve done all of his body art since he first started coming into your shop and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Deep down inside, he knew he had feelings for you when y’all first met, but Connie doesn’t “do” feelings. 

Now Connie has never been afraid of anything, but when it comes to you, this man is fucking petrified. He’ll never show it, but you make his heart race like it never has before, of course he can’t tell you that though since he has an “image” to keep up. 

Luckily, it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. You can’t deny that he’s attractive, got a great personality and a dick that will fuck you into next week. It’s just that neither one of y’all know how to properly express your feelings.

One thing about Connie though, is that if he wants something he’s going to get it no matter what. He just has to figure out how to get you all to himself. 

His original plan was to walk into the shop and just ask you out, something he’s never done before with anyone. That is until he steps in the shop and sees one of your other clients making you laugh as hard as he normally does. He can’t explain why, but a feeling of anger washes over him. 

You and your client look towards the door, you give Connie your pretty smile that makes him weak in the knees and tell him you’ll be with him in a minute. He nods and goes to sit in your office, staring down the man you’re currently working with. 

He tries to distract himself on his phone, but his attention is back on you when you laugh at something your client says. He rolls his eyes and thanks the gods above when you both walk towards the register.

“Alright, you can slide, insert, or tap your card right here.” You turn the Ipad around and wait for him to complete his payment. 

You turn and give Connie a small wave, he returns the gesture and stands up from his seat and makes his way over to you. 

“Perfect, is there anything else I can help you with?” You ask and he gives you a sweet smile.

“If you really want to make my night, you can come home with me.” He leans on the counter and waits for an answer from you. 

At this point Connie is a few steps away from throwing this man through the front door. He stays silent and waits for your response.

You smile sweetly and place a hand on top of his, Connie rolls his eyes once again and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That’s really sweet, but I’m not looking for anything serious at the moment.” 

This time Connie’s eyes lock in on you as he takes your words into consideration. Has he been wrong about your feelings for him this entire time?

“Such a shame, a pretty girl like you should be tied down by now. Have a goodnight sweetheart.” The man kisses the back of your hand and finally exits the shop.

“Sorry that took so long, Antonio is a talker.” You apologize and lock the front doors once you’re sure nobody else is inside. 

“Yeah I can see that.” He sits on the stool behind the register and pulls you in close to stand between his legs.

“How was your day?” You ask him, rubbing your hands along his broad shoulders.

“Fine, then I came to see my girl and it got better.” He responds and rubs his hands along the curves of your body.

“Ah I see, I’m your girl now?” You raise an eyebrow and look down at him.

He scoffs and leans back so he’s resting against the counter behind him.

“Shit, haven’t you always been?” He mindlessly shrugs his shoulders and this time you give him a chuckle.

“You’re funny Connie.” You remove yourself from his hold and walk to the office to count the change.

Connie watches you walk off and chuckles at your comment. He’s the funny one, yeah okay.

“Am I still funny now baby?” He asks you with a smirk on his face and his cock buried deep inside of you.

You let out a moan in response to his question and he pulls all the way out in return.

“Connie!” You exclaim, reaching for him as he backs away. 

“I asked you a question, am I still funny to you?” He grunts, pushing all the way back into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck! N-no, ‘m sorry papi.” You throw your head back and he takes that as an invitation to suck hickies on your skin. 

You tighten around his dick when his lips make contact with your skin and he bites down on your neck. 

“C-cumming! Please don’t stop!” You grab his arms tightly and arch your back off the desk as your orgasm courses through your body.

“There we go pretty girl, keep your eyes on me.” He leans down and presses his forehead against your own.

You let out a small gasp at the cool feeling of his necklace on your chest. He bites down on your bottom lip and slowly rolls his hips.

“You’re such a pretty girl, maybe I should be the one to tie you down, hm?” He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and bites down gently.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your nails dig into the skin on his back. You nod your head at his question and he smiles against your skin. 

“Say you’re mine. I want to hear you say it.” He sits back and pushes your legs up to your chest. 

He resumes the speed of his hips and you grab the sides of the desk below you. 

“I-I’m yours!” You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a mantra of high pitched moans as he continues to bully your cunt. 

“That’s a good girl, f-fuck you’re all mine.” His thrust gradually get rougher and tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

He completely folds you in half and pistons his hips in and out of you at a rapid pace, you scream into your hand as you gush around his cock.

Your mouth is wide open, yet no sound is able to come from it. Your toes curl as the shockwaves of your orgasm travel through your body.

“Awe poor thing, cats got your tongue?” He grabs your cheeks and smashes his lips against yours messily.

Your lips fall open as his pelvis grinds against your clit, he sucks on your bottom lip and chuckles.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me come baby!” He fucks into you a few more times before he pulls out and comes all over the tattoo on your lower abdomen.

“You okay sweetheart?” He grabs some napkins from your desk and begins to clean you up.

“Y-yeah most definitely.” You give a thumbs up and he plants a kiss on your forehead.

“You can tell Antonio you’ve been tied down.” He whispers in your ear and you roll your eyes at your boyfriend.

Ari

[steddieas-shegoes]

you'll be in my heart always

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'you'll be in my heart'

rated g | 777 words | no cw | tags: modern au, famous corroded coffin, married steddie, steddie dads

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Is she watching Tarzan again?" Eddie asks when he walks in the door.

Steve looks up from the grocery list he's writing and smiles. "I think she's got a crush on Tarzan."

"Steven, please. I can't think about her having a crush on anyone. She's only seven."

Steve laughs as he wraps his arms around Eddie's waist. "How was recording today?"

Eddie sighs before kissing the side of Steve's head. "Could've been better."

Steve hums in response, asking for him to explain without having to outright ask. That's how they've worked for years, understanding each other without explanations.

"Just got into it a little with one of the mixers. She wanted me to sing lead on a song Jeff wrote. That's not how we do things," Eddie explained, pulling back to kiss Steve on the lips before pulling away completely. "It'll be fine. Jeff got to sing it."

"Daddy! Watch Tarzan with me!" Riley yelled from the living room when she noticed he was home. "My favorite song is coming!"

Steve patted his hip and returned to his grocery list. "Good luck."

"Hey, little one. Tarzan again?" Eddie asked as he sat down on the couch next to their oldest daughter. She nodded, not looking away from the screen. "What's your favorite song?"

It changed almost every time she watched it, so it was a fair question.

"The heart one." She finally looked up at Eddie, grinning.

"Which one is-" Eddie got cut off when he heard exactly what song it was. Oh god, he was gonna start crying. He always cried during this song. "Oh."

He could hear Steve giggling from the kitchen counter. Fucker.

As Kala sings to Tarzan, Riley leans against Eddie's side, singing along under her breath. She was shy when it came to singing, which shocked both Steve and Eddie. She was good, already had pitch that Eddie was jealous of.

Eddie starts singing along softly, hoping to encourage her to sing louder.

She stops singing and looks up at Eddie.

"Am I always in your heart?" She asks, nearly making Eddie's heart burst.

"Of course, little one."

"Even when you go on the bus with my uncles?" She pushes.

When she was little, her and Steve came with him on tours. She got to see the world, and be spoiled by everyone. But when she started kindergarten, and the twins were born, Eddie took a year-long break to stay home and enjoy time with his family. The rest of the guys were happy to, appreciative of their time to settle. Jeff and Frankie both got married, and Gareth moved in with his boyfriend. But then they went back on tour, and this time, Riley couldn't come with them. She had school, and taking two toddlers on tour would've been chaotic and too much to ask of Steve. So when it came time for him to tour, he had to leave them home, and Riley had to adjust.

It wasn't easy at first. She cried every night on the phone, and Eddie considered just canceling the tour. Their fans would have to understand it wasn't the right time. Maybe they could reschedule for school breaks and summer.

But Steve, the voice of reason, insisted that she would never get used to it if he didn't stick to it, but that she would get used to it. She did, but it wasn't without the occasional bad days or nights.

"Especially when I go on the bus with your uncles. I hang up your art all over the bus so everyone can see how much you mean to me." Eddie kisses the top of her head. "You're always in my heart."

They stayed snuggled up on the couch while the movie played, only getting interrupted once when Steve came in the room to hug them both goodbye.

"Twins'll be up soon from their nap. I'll be quick," Steve said as he checked his pocket for his wallet. "Just grabbing some stuff for the weekend."

"Love you." Eddie and Riley said in unison, not looking away from the movie.

"Love you both."

"Wait!" Riley suddenly jumped up, running to Steve and hugging his waist. "I'm in your heart, too, right?"

"Of course, baby. Always." Steve leaned down to hug her again before she ran back to the couch and into Eddie's lap.

When Steve came back, the movie had finished, but Eddie was dancing with all three kids to Strangers Like Me, shouting more than singing along. He set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and joined them, laughing as Riley once again requested You'll Be In My Heart.

[koolades-world]

Hey there! I'd Like to request something. So like, MC is an Artist (Style doesn't matter they just have to draw humanoid things) and then they draw the brothers+dateables in their style, what would the reaction be?

hello! sure thing :)

I myself am admittedly not a very good artist, which is my my preferred art form is writing. the only time I draw is usually during gartic phone games with friends, and thanks to my franticness under a time limit it's always very chaotic. but at this point I've just embraced it and it's always funny

enjoy!

Artist Mc

Lucifer

you draw him while he's seated at the dinner table on a saturday morning while he's reading the newspaper and enjoying a coffee

not that you didn't intend to show him, but suddenly he was leaning over your shoulder, staring, and it caught you off guard

as you scramble to explain, he just smiles and sits back down in his chair and goes back to what he was doing to keep being you model

once you're done, he asks if he can at least have a copy to keep, which in itself is a huge compliment, but it's so he can think of you every time he looks at it 🥺

Mammon

during class, he happened to look super cute as always while looking wistfully out a nearby window a few rows in front of you and the lesson was getting boring anyways. next to your notes, you begin to doodle him, using highlighters for color

you forget it's there and lend him that very notebook since he had tuned out that same lesson

once he opens it, he seems himself and doesn't know how to react. he's a babbling, red mess

once he regains motor functions, he shakily declares that it's very becoming of the Great Mammon and that you did a great job. success!

Levi

the two of you are hanging out in his room. he's playing a ruri game and you're lounging behind him, sketching on a bean bag

you're not drawing anything in particular and were searching for an idea when suddenly, the idea found you

levi wasn't paying attention to you, so you could easily look at him and ruri, and sketch them side by side in matching outfits

once he stops for a moment to get a snack, you happily show him the drawing and he does the demon equivalent of blue screening. give him a minute to reboot then try again haha

Satan

when you decided to draw him, the two of you were seating together, with you in his lap while he read a book so he saw the drawing from it's first line to it's last

made positive comments about it the entire time, like about how you captured the green of his eyes perfectly, or telling you his hair looked better in the picture than it did in real life

at some point, he stopped pretending to read the book and sat watching you with his chin on your shoulder

he added cute little notes around it once you were done with little hearts around them

Asmo

he's asked you to draw him jokingly a few times, but never expected you to actually do it the next time he asked

when you tell him if he wants, he can pick something else to wear, he almost strips down so you can draw him nude but you stop him as soon as he started to take his shirt off

he scurried away and was back quickly in a new outfit, and posed how he would for a picture

talks to you basically the entire time you draw, and once you're done, he squeezes you into a tight hug and asks if he can post it on his Devilgram

Beel

after joining him enough times for Fangol practice, you knew it well enough to begin making sketches of him as he practiced

drawing him in action was a little challenging since he never held still, but you were determined

you drew a few since his practice went on longer that day, and got to proudly show him the results

he was equally as proud of you since he thought you did a great job. he asks if he can have one, and if you give it to him, you'll find it hanging up next to his bed next to all his Fangol trophies <3

Belphie

he's an easy model to draw thanks to his lethargy, so you often find yourself sketching him

something about his peaceful nature and natural frosted tips was just so drawable, so you had at least a few pages full of him napping in various positions with different blankets

one time, he wakes up while you're next to him drawing, and is a little shocked in a good way. he didn't know you viewed him that highly

he's still half asleep, so he just compliments your artwork and moves to lay his head on your lap, then falls back asleep, ensuring you're the flustered one now

[ghostbeam]

Tomura shigaraki x reader, tomura is an art student, takes place in the same universe as my charcoal artist!dabi stuff, tomura is like very insecure in some of this, if the writing feels pretentious and flowery and unnecessary that’s because it is<3

His hair is getting long.

Running your fingers through the ends, you notice how it’s nearing his shoulders now. His head is in your lap, staring up at you as you lean against the mountain of pillows on your bed, clad in a pair of underwear and the tee shirt he arrived in. His jeans are stained with paint, hanging low on his hips, unbuttoned and quickly thrown on so he wasn’t naked and vulnerable in your lap. You thumb at the scar by the corner of his mouth and he kisses it, then your palm, then your wrist. Tomura takes your hand in between three careful fingers and places it over his heart.

Love is not how they told you it would be.

The two of you were assigned to the same group in painting iii, formed so that the students could give one another critiques independently. Only, you couldn’t find a single thing to critique in his work.

Tomura worked with oils—or Tomura lived and breathed and died for them. He painted people, always caught in a moment, in the middle of talking, or yelling, or drinking, or sleeping. His attention to detail was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, colors you’d never realized could appear in skin tones, shine on limbs and cheeks that made his subjects both more alive and human than any real person. His work felt sort of dirty, sweaty, perpetually damp. But it was beautiful. You couldn’t say a thing about it.

He’d confronted you about it one afternoon, stuffing handouts from the professor into his bag, which looked to be filled with more loose paper and no text books.

“Do you hate it that much?” It was the first time he’d ever talked to you, actually talked to you and not just about your work during a critique. “You never have anything to say.”

It stuns you for a moment, his anger and annoyance, how he’s decided to aim it at you instead of the group of people clamoring for issues with his painting all class period.

“I’m supposed to point out flaws, tell you where you could have done better, explain how I wasn’t moved,” you explain, staring down at your shoes, “but I can’t do that. There’s not—I don’t see how I could possibly tell you how you could do better.”

“That’s bullshit.” He mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t just say what I want to hear. I won’t like you any more for it.”

He leaves you standing alone in the classroom. Like you? He thought it was about being liked? You’re in such awe of him that you can’t speak, and he thinks you’re just trying not to hurt his feelings.

During the next class, when he stands before your group for critique, you don’t say a word. And he keeps looking at you like he’s waiting for it, like you’ll be angry enough at him for last week that you’ll rip his painting apart. But your silent, once again. Nothing’s changed.

He’s the first one out of the class once you’re dismissed. He walks fast, and you’re out of breath by the time you catch up with him, resting a hand on his shoulder that he flinches away from. Your breath comes out in quick puffs that you can see, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself as you fix him with a glare.

“You’re wrong.” You say once he’s turned around. “I don’t care if you like me or not after critique. It’s not about sparing your feelings. I’ve never seen anything like what you do. And I watch you in class, and you paint like something is clawing it’s way out of you, like you need to do it or you’ll die.”

“You’re honest with everyone else but me.” He argues, unable to accept your words. You have real things to say to your peers. You don’t hold back with them. You make them better. Why couldn’t you do that for him?

“You are not everyone else.” You watch his eyes widen at your words, and if you had any shame, maybe you wouldn’t have said something so bold. “You’re leagues above all of us. Everyone knows it, and that’s why they’re harsh on you.”

Where you say nothing, your group rips into him, picking at each and every detail until there’s nothing left. He takes it all in stride, accepting their words like it’s absolute truth, and returning to his canvas with sunken shoulders and furrowed brows, concentrated on how he could be better. It’s exactly what they want.

He opens his mouth the say something, but stops, feeling a drop of something fall on his cheek. He looks up at the dark clouds above the two of you, and it begins to rain. He curses, taking a hold of your hand and leading you underneath the front of the design building.

“They’re harsh because I deserve it.” He points out, still holding your hand. You could say a million things right now, tell him in detail how moved you are by every piece he makes, but his hand is still in yours, and you don’t trust yourself not to trip over your words because of it. You can only shake your head.

“Why can’t you accept that you’re brilliant?” You question, exasperated. It makes him laugh, his smile being something you’ve never seen before. It makes you think of all the people who have seen this smile before, the stretch of his lips, the creases by his eyes. Had they felt this lucky?

“I think you’re crazy.” He tells you, knocking his knuckles against your head.

“Do you wanna go out?” You ask before you’re able to stop yourself. He leans away from you, surprised.

“What?” You can’t find the words to speak, to tell him you’re sorry, that it was uncalled for, that you’re a total creep. His face is red, you notice. He speaks a moment later, “yes.”

Rising from your lap, he leans over you, kissing your lips with as much tenderness as he had your palm. Your lips are his favorite thing to paint, second only to your thighs which he grips tightly as he wraps your legs around his waist.

When he’d met you, all full of hope and belief in him of all people, he’d thought of you as such a faraway thing. Unattainable. If you couldn’t talk about his work, there was no way you’d ever talk to him. But he was wrong, something he rarely ever is, your faith in him changing how he viewed his own art forever.

He paints you. He paints you a lot. He even paints the two of you together, though your faces are never in those ones, just bodies tangled together on one canvas. He’d call you his muse if you didn’t hate it. And besides, he knows you’re so much more.

If there had been something inside of him clawing it’s way out, you had noticed it, freed it, kept it safe with you so it wasn’t so agonizing to carry on his own.

No, it’s not how they told him it would be at all.

[soupandsimple]

Coach P. (with James Potter)

[ gym coach James being called out by a student for often visiting you during their art class ]

* simple fluff 💜

** muggle au

This was requested: see the ask here

……………………….

Knock knock knock

You looked over to the little window of your classroom door while in the middle of demonstrating to your students how to create clean, even coverage brush strokes with a paint brush and saw James Potter, the school’s gym teacher waving at you.

You smiled, held up your pointer finger informing him to give you a moment and continued on explaining the method.

“There, that easy” you said to the group of twelve year old children once you finished. “Now I want you all to practice this technique on the mosaic sheet designs you made yesterday. I’ll be coming around checking your progress in a bit,” you concluded.

As the kids stood up to gather their painting supplies from the back of the room, you went over and finally opened the door.

“Sorry for the wait” you apologized to James.

“No, no- you’re here to do your job. I have no trouble waiting around for you…here, I brought you these” he said, handing you a bag of fruit snacks that were carried in the school’s vending machines.

“Ugh, you know I can’t say no to fruit snacks” you admitted as you grabbed the bag. “I’ll just save them for later, it makes me sad to eat them with the students watching” you forced a little laugh as you set them on your desk.

“Such a thoughtful thing you are,” James half joked, half gushed.

“As are you coach Potter,” you playfully bantered back, resulting in a shared shy laugh as you each looked in different directions.

“No but seriously though James, thank you for the snacks,” you spoke in your normal tone of voice now, with a smile of gratitude on your lips.

Before James could reply, Lawrence, one of the more outspoken boys of his year, called out, “Hey coach P, why do you always come in here during our class?”

Some of the students laughed while others internally gasped and stared at each other with knowing looks, looks that told you they all speculated there was something between you and James.

“Uhh..well it’s my free period Lawrence,” James replied back as casually as he could.

“Yeah but you like always come in here, can’t you go home during your break or take a nap?”

“No, work is still work. I can’t leave the school and I certainly can’t sleep.”

“That sucks Coach…I bet you still look forward to your free period everyday anyways don’t you?” Lawrence said with three comical eyebrow wiggles.

A group of girls giggled and even you wanted to laugh at the fact that James was being called out by a twelve year old but luckily you were able to contain your lips in a subtle smile.

A red hue quickly spread across James’s cheeks as he let out an airy chuckle, “Okayyyy Lawrence, enough of that. Why don’t you get back to your work.”

Lawrence shrugged and went on about his business.

What the students didn’t know was that during the summer, James and you had been set up on a blind date by mutual friend Remus Lupin but that once you met and found out you’d be working at the same school that year, you both decided it’d be better to keep things simple and just be friends. The feelings between you two, however, were undeniable and it was really only a matter of time before you both accepted you were not meant to limit yourselves to a friendship.

“Well, I should go,” James said pointing to the door with both hands then walking backward towards it to keep an eye on you. “But oh, hey, you going to Rem’s birthday dinner tomorrow night?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Good, um me too. I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah, see you there,” you assured him happily with a little wave goodbye.

James smiled and cutely saluted you in exchange of a wave and as he walked out of the door, Lawrence eagerly shouted out …

“Have a good weekend coach P!”

… to which James pretended not to have heard and kept on his way without a look back.

Naturally though, he couldn’t help the small smile that escaped his lips as he exited, just as your lips did the same inside because you both knew you’d be getting to see each other outside of school hours for a change; and well, that certainly made for a good weekend. <3

[miguelhugger2099]

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality. 

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.” 

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered. 

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. 

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples. 

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil. 

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks. 

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back. 

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?” 

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself. 

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

[good-vs-evo]

saw some ppl on tiktok getting SO PRESSED about polycules and relationships other than hualian and that was kind of funny so i needed to make and explain my relationship chart

i’d love to explain to them (as a polyam person myself >:3) that love is not a limited commodity and hua cheng falling for yin yu doesn’t mean he suddenly doesn’t care about xie lian at all but i fear that would be lost on them HAHA

also if you… don’t wanna see that kinda stuff… just don’t look at it… don’t hate on people who do… life would be easier for everyone… but moving on

i debated splitting yin yu x he xuan x hua cheng from the moon quartet then decided against it because it was getting waaaay too chaotic

rip to quan yizhen, either he has no manhua art or i couldn’t find it (i haven’t read the manhua yet ffjhshd)

uhhh i got a lot of inspo abt huayin from @devotedbutterfly’s tiktoks and stuff (sorry for going thru like all of ur stuff and generally being a demon on ur tiktok and tumblr ahsjdj) and xuanyin/blackmoon stuff from @ghooostbaby so. yes their stuff is very cool :]

anyways-

first chart is different explanations for everyone’s relationship with one another

the second is me trying to simplify them into categories

BUT i’ll explain this a lotttt better in text

quanyin

uh. this one feels self explanatory

hualian

if i have to explain this one it’s over

fengqing

same as the first two LMAO

xianle trio

yes, i had to break the trio and quartet into different categories

mulian: mu qing always admired xie lian for his self-assuredness, strength, and also beauty. he was a bit jealous of him for a long time, but they were able to talk about it and they both forgave each other for everything that happened in the past. he's had a crush on him since the beginning, but was bad at showing it. xie lian thought mu qing was pretty and a very interesting person; when he got older, he regretted not spending more time getting to know him, so he makes up for it later on in life! he loves when mu qing is softer and shy and more vulnerable than he is usually, and loves how mu qing is a good listener and is pretty emotionally intelligent.

fengqing: well. you get the idea

fenglian: feng xin was always loyal, the first person to have fallen in love with xie lian, and dianxia’s first kiss. he would’ve never left xie lian if xie lian hadn’t told him to. he respected xie lian a lot. xie lian loved how much feng xin cared, and felt immensely guilty about being unable to give him anything more. when they reunite, he showers feng xin with gifts and words of affirmation (he got better at expressing his emotions) and they spend a lot of time together

xianle quartet

all the other ones stay the same, so i’ll just explain the two new ones

huaqing: they were once stuck together and had to talk just out of boredom. they bickered a little but the more they talked the more they realized that there was more to the other. mu qing feels genuinely bad about what he did to hua cheng. he has a hard time apologizing but he tried his best to express his remorse, and hua cheng was pretty shocked (previously thought mu qing was a bit of an asshole) and, since mu qing was being sincere, decided to accept his apology. they hit some rough patches now and then, but xie lian and feng xin help them through it. they realized they’re pretty similar, and team up to stir up trouble with people they don’t like sometimes!

huaxin: feng xin was jealous of hua cheng because he was the one who won xie lian’s heart after 800 years and was really happy when he found out that xie lian liked him too. he admires that hua cheng was strong enough to help xie lian so many times. he also likes that hua cheng is a little cocky sometimes (read: very often), and finds hua cheng very good looking. hua cheng was jealous of feng xin for being the first person to be that close to xie lian, but appreciates how loyal he was throughout everything that happened and finds him pretty cool. he likes the way feng xin curses a lot when he’s pissed (finds it endearing)

huayin

ONE OF MY PERSONAL FAVES!!!

yin yu fell first, because hua cheng was so fascinatingly determined and also like the prettiest person he’s ever met. he was intimidating, but could be quite kind, as he was to yin yu when they broke past the employee/employer relationship and became closer

hua cheng began to notice the way yin yu came off as so meek and unnoticeable, but had a kind of poised anger and strength beneath all of that. he trusted yin yu with a lot of more important tasks, paid him well, and considered him as more of a right hand man or partner in crime than a henchman, then eventually as just a partner

e’ming also likes yin yu, and trusts him to take care of it

hua cheng finds it endearing when yin yu gets protective of him (both of them know hua cheng is perfectly capable, but hua cheng finds it sweet regardless)

yin yu cheered hua cheng on a lot with xie lian and patiently listened to everything hua cheng had to say about him

huayinlian/hualianyu

ANOTHER PERSONAL FAVE

ppl keep being like “oh but hua cheng would never cheat on xie lian” HOW IS THAT CHEATING! GOOD LORD! HUA CHENG STILL LOVES XIE LIAN, BUT HAS ALSO DEVELOPED FEELINGS FOR THE PERSON HE SPENT THE MOST AMOUNT OF TIME WITH

i digress

yin yu fell for xie lian because he heard about him all the time. how could you spend so much time hearing about how wonderful, kind, gracious, and amazing someone is without catching feelings a little? additionally, hua cheng allowed yin yu to visit xie lian’s temple and leave offerings, trusting him to be genuine in his actions. yin yu saw some of the paintings and sculptures of xie lian and found him beautiful. he knows a lot about xie lian's life, and truly wants him to find peace and happiness

xie lian loves how devoted yin yu was to hua cheng and how much he helped him. he knows those years were hard for hua cheng, and he’s glad that he had a companion (contrary to what people say about “cheating”, xie lian is incredibly happy that hua cheng managed to find love while he was waiting). i know yin yu is canonically “plain”, but xie lian loves him and thinks he’s very handsome :) he gives him a lot of compliments and words of affirmation

blackmoon (yinxuan)

taking a moment to appreciate that very awesome ship name

yin yu thought he xuan was terrifying and intense, only to discover that. he’s just a guy (/pos). but he does have a lot going on! he has urges and a complex history and emotions he doesn’t show to a lot of people and plans within plans and is generally such an interesting person with so many layers to him. beneath a lot of those layers is a guy who’s kind and smart and would’ve stayed kind and smart if his life wasn’t utterly ruined

he xuan initially thought yin yu was just kind of pathetic, but learned more about him and started to like him more. he finds his passion really attractive, loves how genuinely sweet, kind, and gentle he is as well as how harsh, cruel, and unrelenting he can be. he treats he xuan well and makes him feel human and real and knows when to leave him alone and knows when he wants attention and cooks for him and-

they feel seen around each other, having experienced similar things (such as having their destiny “stolen” in different ways though) and have experienced suffering in such a firsthand way. they’re ready to just chill together now :)

moon quartet (hua cheng, xie lian, he xuan, and yin yu)

xie lian finds he xuan cool, doesn’t have too many thoughts about him. he xuan thinks xie lian is cute and also mildly terrifying (i’m definitely editing this later on, i just don’t have a lot of thoughts about them yet)

hua cheng and he xuan have been close for a long time, helping each other out with ghost king business. hua cheng let he xuan relax and chill at ghost city when he needed to, and he xuan kept a close eye on the heavenly capital, so they met often and bonded. they’re both motivated by something and are incredibly passionate about that thing, so they mutually admire the other’s drive and courage

i have the least for them so far, but i just think they’d be sweet together :] they’d all help each other heal and be able to talk to each other. they’d love each other a lot and take care of one another when they need it and be there when someone needs someone :3 idk they’re so traumatized and deserve to recover from that i’ll form more thoughts i swear

ANYWAYS. that’s it for now i’m def gonna write stuff for all of these ships :0 they’re all very special to me 💖 i might add them to my 30 day fluff challenge :3 cuz they all deserve some nice fluff! (ill also keep updating + editing! feel free to ask me to explain relationships more, id love to <3)

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Prompt List(s)!

Anyone got room for yet another October Prompt List? 😉

I really wasn’t feeling the Official Inktober Prompt List this year & deeply miss the Obscutober lists nikolas_tower used to post over on Instagram, so I decided to break from tradition even more than I usually do & make my own! ✨

The main idea is each prompt is an Obscure Word, but I did get a little choosy & try to put a bit of my own spin on it!

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk more about the details + Definitions if you need them. ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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Before I get into my usual long-winded description, if you want to actually follow this prompt list—Or the Lite or Weekly version—here's what you need to know:

Here's the "Official" Definition list so you don't have to spend time looking up the words yourself if you don't want to...But also, if you do want to, feel free! The "official" definitions are intended as a time-saving guideline!

The list is open to all mediums! "Typical" visual art (Digital or Traditional), Literature, Sculpture, Crafts, Coloring Pages—whatever you want!

The word itself does not have to be directly included/related to what you make; You can just take inspiration from the way it sounds or looks, or something the sticks out to you in the definition, etc.

If a word or two doesn't work for you for various reasons, feel free to swap-in a different word—Either another "obscure" word of your choosing, or a word from another prompt list that you like better.

I've provided "Lite" and Weekly versions of the list in case the full 31 is too much, but you can pick-and-choose words from the full list however you'd like if you're not crazy about the words I picked for the shorter versions, or if you want to shorten the list in a different way.

Tagging me is appreciated, but not required!

Remember that my views on these Month-Long Daily Challenges is that it's about the challenge of completing a certain amount of creative pieces in the time given...And that's pretty much it, so as long as you're doing that and having fun, I'm really not bothered about how you choose to follow the list! My Inktober motto has always been "work smarter, not harder," and this is no different!

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Well, well, Sparklers—I assume this is quite the surprise coming from me. 🤭 Both because I've been awfully quiet over the past couple of months and this is what I come back with. [And for the record, I intend to explain more about where exactly I've been in a Museletter, but I wasn't able to get it typed up and ready-to-go today; Once I get it ready I'll add the link here.]

Not that me disappearing for a while and coming back with something not necessarily expected of me is all that abnormal, but rather if you've followed me for a while, you might remember I'm not normally super-keen on everyone and their uncle's mother's brother's sister making their own Prompt Lists.

So then, Mystic, what gives? Why make your own Prompt List now?

You can thank nikolas_tower on Instagram for that, actually. 😆 Some of you might also remember that I follow his Obscutober list in October 2021, and I've also swapped in an Obscutober word a couple of times when one of the "official" Inktober words didn't work for me.

I've explained before how much I love the Obscutober concept to its core, so I won't re-hash all of that here. The important part is that I do love it, but to my great sadness, 2022 only got an abbreviated Obscutober list (2 words per week), 2023 didn't get an Obscutober list at all (though I didn't really need one for 2023 because I was busy enough as it was following two other prompt lists at once) and considering just how close we're getting now, I really sincerely doubt Nikolas has/had plans for a 2024 one. Add to that: I was not super jazzed about the official Inktober prompt list for this year. Now, don't get me wrong—I'm normally not thrilled with every single word on the list (and if you've followed my Inktobers' past, you know I say as much during the month!), but I'm not sure I've ever felt quite so unenthusiastic about the whole list before.

Additionally still, some of you might remember I did talk a little bit last year about some...struggles I supposed is the closest word, that I've had with the past couple of Inktobers I've done. And generally, I've had some ideas for really shaking up the way I handle October for the past couple of years.

While, granted, my main "shake-up" idea is totally unrelated even to this list and I never seem to be able to get the necessary prep work it would require done in time, I think the main takeaway is a I've had a low-grade yearning to do something different...but I do still want to stick to my "tradition" of handling Inktober unconventionally.

So in the end, it kinda just made sense to at least try making my own Obscutober-style list this year. It's something different and I've missed the Obscutober lists, so why not?

Worth noting that I did try to put just a little of my own spin on it in my choice of words. While already I did try to stay away from words Nikolas already used for all 4 of his Obscutobers, I also had a couple of "rules" with the words I picked:

No words that are "Obscure" purely because they're not English/aren't found in English dictionaries. For example, "Lunette" is a French word, but it appears in English dictionaries with a definition that's more than just "the French word for..."

The word must have a definition that's relatively easy to find and/or appears in well-established English Dictionaries like Dictionary.com or Merriam-Webster. This rule exists because I noticed pretty quickly a lot of "aesthetic" definition images on Pinterest either don't turn up any other reliable results that a word even exists, or the word may exist but the Pinterest definition is straight-up wrong.

No overly gross/medical/NSFW words. (This wasn't a problem with any of Nikolas' Obscutober picks, this is just a personal preference that did shape my research a bit.)

One of my problems with the Inktober list for this year is too many words feel like synonyms/too closely related, so I wanted to avoid that. A couple of words are still kind of close in the end, like "Vitrine" and "Hyaline" or "Escutcheon" and "Orphrey, but they're still more different from each other than some words that I considered and ultimately turned down. [For example, I considered "Lambent" and "Clinquant" but decided they were too close in meaning to "Scintillate."]

Likewise, aside from the theme of being Obscure, I tried not to lean to heavily on words that fit a particular theme or idea

I tried not to pick "obscure" words that have become decently well-known or popular because they're obscure. The best example is "Aglet" wasn't even considered because it's been mentioned in multiple TV shows that I know of. "Scintillate" might push that boundary a little, but it is one of my personal favorites.

I also tried to pick words that had a little variety in definition length and not pick too many that had really short definitions, which ties into my next point...

More abstractly, I tried to pick words that feel like they both lend themselves to a really solid image but also leave room for interpretation of that image. Historically I've had problems with Inktober words feeling too much like they really only fit one specific interpretation of the word or they only have so many ways to represent the idea. And on the flip side, some of Nikolas' Obscutober picks (at least when I participated in 2021) felt a little too abstract at times. Ultimately, this feeling is probably highly subjective, but I tried my best to find the right balance anyway.

While not perfectly balanced, I did try not to lean too heavily on one type of word, as in Adjectives/Nouns/Verbs. There are still less verbs overall because it was just harder to find verbs that fit what I wanted, but if I hadn't consciously paid attention there probably would've only been 1-2 verbs and like 20 adjectives.

Not really related to adding "my own spin," but also worth noting that it was also important to me to provide "Lite" and Weekly versions of the list the way that Nikolas did for Obscutober II to make it easier for people that just don't have one-thing-every-single-day kind of time to feel welcome to still participate in some way. As stated in the description for those, you can just jump around the list however you like, but I know sometimes it's just easier if someone already lays things out that way for you instead of having to remember to leave things out and such.

And then for the visual list design, I did a mixture of Nikolas' Obscutober list style and my own more typical branding elements, which ended up working out much better than I expected; I wanted the "spirit" of the list to be recognizable to fans of Nikolas' lists without being an exact copy/looking too much like I was trying to "pretend" to be him or something, and I think I landed in a pretty good place. [And in case anyone is wondering, yes I did use my own template to make the list!]

I do have to admit to you Sparklers though that despite going through all that trouble, I'm actually still not 100% sure I'll be following the list myself. 😅 I've gone back and forth over how exactly I want to handle October at all this year so much...I definitely want to (and intend to!) do a Daily Challenge, especially given how spotty my uploads have been over the last year, but I just can't seem to settle on one full-fledged plan that I'm completely satisfied with.

I do have one potential idea I'm considering that already has a very specific alternate list, but pretty much all of my other ideas would normally use the official Inktober list, and so since that list isn't on the table for me this year, and it's really looking like DeviantArt isn't doing Drawtober again this year—Which I find incredibly sad, by the way!—I need another list on-hand that I know I can use and be reasonably happy with.

And for the record, I'm being intentionally coy about that one specific idea and not sharing that list because it's highly specific and if I do decide to go that route in some way, I'd like the main idea to be a least a little bit of a surprise.

But even if I don't use this list myself, I thought at least a few other people might enjoy giving it a try. After all, I wasn't the only one that enjoyed Nikolas' Obscutobers—I originally found out about them through another person entirely. So maybe a few other people are feeling that Obscutober void, or maybe you're just a big Word Nerd™ like me, or maybe you just want something that's a little different still from a lot of the more typical alternative prompt lists that have been floating around.

So, whatever the case, here the list is (and the Lite and Weekly versions, too); Let us all do with them what we will! 😉

Before I go, I will offer an apology to anyone who's disappointed or frustrated that I'm posting the list so close to time to use it—Believe me, if I'd been 100% sure I wanted to make it in the first place sooner, I would have gotten it out much sooner, too! But I'm doing the best I still can by getting out with this very tiny 2-day cushion instead of just dropping it right on the 1st. If the list turns out to be something you Sparklers want to see again next year, I promise I'll do my best to get it out with a lot more advance notice next time!

With that, there are still two days left in September and as semi-implied already, I still have a ton to do to be anything close to ready for October, so I'll leave you Sparklers to the list and your own October plans, whatever they may be; Hope to see you all again hopefully very, very soon...! 🤗

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List Design  © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[coffee-master]

IDEAS FOR FICS PART 1 [FIDDLESTAN]

-> #Free ideas to use (to find more similar things for fics)

Fiddlestan idea, where Stanley and Fiddleford work together to fix the and bring Stanford back.

During this time they come closer to each other and while feeling like mess they both help each other fix some things.

They both are basically a walking mess with Trauma.

Stanley helps Fiddleford during his panic attacks and calms him down when needed. Stan gives him attention and always listenes about his problems (the divorce and difficul situation with his son. Stanley also helps Fids with quiting his addiction (the memorygun).

Fiddleford made Stan aware that he isn't a worse copy of Stanford. He tells him that he is loved and once Stan opens up to him. Fidds explains how fucked up Stan's whole situation was. Moreover he shows affection to such a touch-starved person that Stanley was at that moment.

Stan and Fiddleford get closer to each other during their bonding time, until they fall for each other and form a relationship.

[They smoke together, go out and Fidds even started teaching Stan playing banjo (with difficulties but still)]

For years they try to open the portal once again, but without the other journals this seems almost impossible. [Just a reminder that the whole portal thing was Bill's idea and he gave Stanford the project. In conclution very HARD TO DO]

And then years later Dipper and Mabel show up..!

Fiddleford and Stanley are in relationship for 30 years. They basically are the "old married couple" But historians will say that they are just 'roommates'.

Mabel basically can smell the romance from distance, while Dipper is ignorant/unaware until someone pointed out this to him.

Stanley & Fidds even have matching earings!

[Also Fidds likes to call Stan Darlin', Hun and Stan calls Fidds Cowboy eventually That's My Cowboy! When noone is around]

Fidds never went crazy or anything. He even repaired his relationship with son! Yes, he might have still got some brain damage from using the gun in the past. (So from time to time he can be forgetfull) But he is better now!

When Stanford comes back there is also a lot of mess. Ford punches Stan and Fidds is right behind him to help him. Stanford is mostly confused by everything that at first he doesn't even notice that Fiddleford and Stanley are in a relationship.(He's just as blind as Dipper)

There is some arguing and Fiddleford is pretty much pissed at Ford for being ungratefull.

Once he overheard Stanford "talk" to Stan that "at the end of this summer you give me back my identyti, my house and this all mystery shack is over"

And he confronted Ford immediately yelling at him that "the world doesn't go around him" And he had no idea how much sacrificed for him and how both of them suffered. (After that 'conversation' I think that Ford finally sensed that something was going on between Fidd and Stanley]

Shortly after Fidd "talked" with Ford, he immiediately went to Stanley, assuring him that everything is gonna be alright and they are both in this together. That he is NOT alone.

[I feel like everyone saw at least once that time of fiddlestan au in art or something BUT-]

LET'S FINALLY GET TO THE MAIN POINT!!!

In this au everything goes similar to the canon, so Weirdmagedon still happened. Everything happened in a similar way and in the end Stanley saved the town. (Pls no jokes)

Ford had to erase his memories, with the memory gun. The weapon that Fiddleford once created and almost ruined his life. And now it erased the mind of the man he loved.

Fidds after realised what happened he was devastated.

He was furious at Ford's action, even though it was the only way to save everyone.

He was heartbroken seeing the man he loves not recognising him. As if there was noone on the other side.

The guilt was eating him alive, knowing well that HE created the gun that took away his love of life.

And after learning that it was Stanley's plan to use the memory gun on himself and not Ford's.. Fiddleford was basically tearing up.

Seeing Stan's lack of reaction after waking up and seeing his 'loved ones' and not recognising them was heart-breaking. Stanley didn't seem to remember neither his nephews nor brother or even him.

When Stan looks at him. There is nothing.

It hurts to look at the man you love. You can't help, but see that he doesn't see you the same way or even recognise you. That there is nothing beside the lost gaze and lack of connection. No smiles, no love. Just confusion.

And even though the Stanley he once know was 'erased', Fiddleford takes a deep breath and with clear sadness in voice says:

"He was there for me when my mind was falling apart and now I'm gonna take care of him." And then hugs gently confused Stan.

I belive that it would take more time for them to bring Stan's memories back. (But that's up to you how you want it)

I imagine that there would be a lot more trouble with gaining back memory for Stan. Like maybe very slowly.

Their first attempts would be unsuccessfully. No improvement. Staley doesn't remmeber anything about his live. Fotos are blank for him. He even misstooks his photo with children, thinking that on the picture is Ford and not him.

"I'm sorry, I- I really don't remmeber any of this.." Stanley said, while holding the photo album.

Everyone would be devastated. Soos, Ford, twins and Fiddleford.

But suprisingly, Fiddleford would be the one who would 'seem' to be the calmest of all of them at least on the surface. He spends a lot of time with Stanley, not necessary trying to restor Stan's memory, but geniuently spend some pleasant time together.

But deeply inside Fidds is actually really strugling. Just instead of thinking about the pain, he tries to focus on helping Stanley. He had a first hand experience with memory issues and he doesn't want Stan to suffer the same.

He also tries make Stanley feel as comfortable as possible in the New situation, while trying to bond.

They drink coffee, they watch tv, they talk. Maybe not necessary about his past.. (Stanley feels pressured, every time someone tries to recall his memories without any results) So with Fidds, he feels more relaxed.

Stanley generally feels around Fiddleford most comfortable. (He doesn't feel any obligation) And he genuelly likes him and EVEN MORE he starts to like him to the point that he's questioning himself.

Stanley: I think, I might have a crush on Fidds..?

Mabel geniuently touched that even after loosing memories the true love still remained around around them, but also jealous due to the fact that he still doesn't recall her : ...

Mabel: He's literally your husband.

Stanley: He is?? I mean- But I don't even know him..?

[Sometimes someone needs to remind Stanley that he's married to Fidds. He forgets it often, since it sounds so unrealistic for him]

Also, when Stan starts 'crushing' on Fidds, Fiddleford is very aware of it.

He immiediately catches up on simple signals like

- Random nervousness

- Playing with hands

- Unnecesarry jokes at wrong time

Just the same behaviour as from 30 years ago, when Stanley started catching feelings for him. [It makes him happy to see this once again]

Fiddleford pretends that he doesn't know. He doesn't want Stan to freak out or something.

And it goes like this..

They spend some time. Twins still try to regain Stan's memory in any way possible. Ford feels helpless. And during this time they are rebuiling the mystery shack.. (because they need a place to sleep, am I right?)

Until one day..

Fiddleford was sitting outside, taking a break from repairing the shack. All of this still seamed unrealistic for him.

He was alone.

He needed to be alone.

He felt as everything was falling apart with him all together.. He just needed some time alone. If he was about to have a breakdown, he didn't want to anyone see it.

Not Ford, not kids and especially not Stanley.

He just needed to f̸̯̞̤̻̬̯̣͙͉̿̑̾͌ͅo̶̧̅r̵̫̹̟̱̖̺̝̐̾͌̄͋̈́͜͠ḡ̴̹̰̘̫͍͇̜͜ę̵̞̯̗̺̗͙̈́͑̀̓̓̆͠t̸̡̛̞̭̪͖̬̱̮͋́̋͝ chill a little-

Then as the man sighed, he saw in the corner of his eye his lying banjo. He hadn't played in a while.. It was his firt though.

So without overthinking, the man took his instrument and started playing some random nutes. After all music always calmed him down a little.

Before he could even notice, nutes turned into melody, into songs he once used to play often during this summer and not only..

It was like this until a familiar face arrived.

"Huh, I like this melody." Stanley said with a small smile, looking directly at his instrument.

Fiddleford looked at his partner, slightly confused and shocked by his arrival. Something made him stop playing, as he realised that what he was playing they both used to love.

They used to play it regulary.

So there was no suprise, that Fiddleford hoped that maybe just maybe would be some kind of recognision. Unfortunately as soon as he met Stan's clueless eyes, he knew the answer.

"Really?" But instead of shoving his dissapointment, Fidds just asked him kindly.

"It's nice." He said as he sat next to the man with a banjo. "Keep going." Stanley encouraged him and how was he supposed to say no?

So he played. Just to see more smile on his face. Just to act as if this was normal. As they used to do.

After a while he noticed, how the other man started staring at his instrument. Fidds saw the curiousity in his eyes, and how paid attention to his movement.

Then he paused to Stans shock.

"Wanna try?" He offered with a gentel smile.

"Try?" Stan sounded suprised. "Nah, I'm gonna break this little thing." He said unsurely. "These hands are pretty clumsy recently." He joked.

"Break it? Such nonsense." Fidd chuckled with a smile and placed the banjo in Stanleys hands. "The least could happen is for one of the string to break. Don't worry."

Despite his first protest in the end Stan looked at the instrument and took it in his hands gently.

Then the man ran his hand over the instrument and all the strings rang.

"Nice." He commented. "How do you start?" Stanley asked and it took Ford a second to realise what he was asking for.

"You start with this one." He answered shortly, pointing at one of the strings. "You know.. you won't be able to play the same song at first try, it takes-"

Fiddleford was interrupted, as Stan started playing. To his suprise it wasn't any kind of weird noises by pulling random strings. No, nothing like that.

It didn't even seem as his first try, when they were young and Fiddleford started teaching Stan playing on banjo.

It was the same melody he played just a second ago.

And it wasn't just a mare try.

He did it perfectly. Just as if he knew this song.

As if he knew how to play it.

As if he remembered it.

And it didn't seem as if he was putting in this any kind of effort.

Stanley just played.

And he seemed so happy and relaxed, until he finished and the realisation hit him hard.

"How.. how did you do this?" Fidds asked first.

"I.." Stan started just as confused as he was. "I don't know." He admited trufully. "My hands were just moving on its own." He tried to explain, but seemed just as lost as him. "I didn't- I didn't think what I was doing. It just happened." He finished, looking directly at Fiddleford very confused, as if looking for the answer.

Fidds confused as him, tried not to give himself unrealistic hopes.

When it came to Amnesia it rarely affected motor skills, according to the researches. Just like walking or ridding a bike. So that would explain this 'phenomen'.

He did it instinctively.

"I teached you this one." In the end Fidds decided to be trufully. "We played it lots of times, until you didn't need the sheet music."

"Oh." Stanley said clearly dissapointment.

For a moment Fiddleford was afraid, that mentioning the past would made Stan uncomfortable, or make silent.

But fortunatelly Stanley fast showed that it didn't bothered him this time.

"Was I a good student?" Stan asked instead with a smirk. "Seems pretty easy for me." Then he added with cockyness, which made Fidds only chuckle.

"The worst one." He couldn't help himself, but taste his patience a little.

"Watch it Cowboy." The man said with smirk, so full of himself as he played a few random, but melodic notes on banjo.

And just then-

"Wait- What did you just call me?" Fiddleford asked rapidly, hoping that he didn't overheard wrong.

Stan looked at him again, taking a pause, as if trying to recall what he said.

"A Cowboy." He said slowly, realising he didn't know why he choosed this kind of words.

"Stanley, I've never mentioned that I am a Cowboy, nor that I'm a fan of them.." Fidds said immiediately and once he saw the expression on his partner's face , he knew. "Stanley." He said so hopefully and full of love. "You.."

He wanted to say You remember

He wanted to reach him..

"I-" The man in fornt of him sounded so confused, but also so hopefull at the same time.

But then rapidly grabbed his head, with a hiss.

"I- think I'm gonna have a headache-" He added painfully.

At once Fiddleford moved to him, taking him gently by his back.

"Shh.. Take it slowly, dear." Fidds said gently to calm him down.

Even though inside he bursting with excitement Stan's healt was his piority number one.

And then Stanley started regaining his memories back!!!! :D

This idea is free to use. If you want you can write a fic about it or just do anything.

Hopefully you enjoyed this idea!!!

[More Fiddlestan ideas]: Part 2(in progress)

[MasterPost]

[cardo-de-comer]

Hi Cardo, I've just read on twitter that you've been ill lately and struggling with depression. I wanted to send you strength and I hope things get better for you soon.

I love your art so much and it always brings me joy to see your illustrations on my timeline. you're truly one of my favourite artists and I love your use of colour, I love your compositions, how intriguing your characters are... I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like there's an entire mythology behind every single one of your illustrations, and I find that fascinating.

I've had one of your illustrations as a wallpaper for my latpop for like a month now, and everytime I switch my laptop on to do work, it brings me joy because I see your beautiful art, even if I'm not motivated to do work. A few people sitting next to me in the library/other places have seen my screen and they've told me the illustration is really cool. Someone even asked me where I the illustration is from, so I know I'm not the only one who enjoys it.

Anyway, I truly hope you feel better soon. I struggle with anxiety myself, so I know those things don't magically go away, but at least I hope you can have easier days —more tolerable ones.

Stay safe and thank you for creating your art and sharing it with the world. Some of us really enjoy seeing it and it does make a difference :)

hey! well this kinda hit me like a truck but in a positive way. :_)

i don't even know how to thank you properly in a way that shows my gratitude, like i want to thank you for reaching out and writing all this and i still cannot wrap my head around the fact that. there's people who look at my art like daily or it makes them feel things... it means a lot to me really, that's one of the reasons to try and not give up just yet. i don't like sharing my mental problems online bc i figured that's not what ppl wanna see but sometimes it's getting so bad i stop caring for a moment. it was a rough month and idk if it's getting better but i always find some escape in art. as i said before, i won't stop drawing until the end and i feel like it's worth it when i hear from someone that they really like what i do. idk where i'm going with this, my brain is fried today with meds and i start to ramble but once again thank you for your words and i hope you have a nice week <3