#don’t mind my designs for them btw. I had to do that and the designs I made grew on me so they’re canon in my mind now

[clegfly]

Thought I had today that I decided to doodle. Oh em gee I wonder what musical cleg’s been obsessing over for the last like month

[yourfatherlucifer]

Our Aurora : Chapter 1

Ot8!Ateez x afab/female!reader

Summary: Attending university with your eight boyfriends wasn’t easy, neither was sharing a mansion with them.

Warnings: MDNI, this mini series includes tons of smut, slight violence, protective ateez, poly relationship, established relationship, mentions of mxm, choking, other smut themes.

WC: 2K

AU: University

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Nets: @newworldnet

Taglist: (open)

Note: GUESS WHOS BACK BITCHES!!!!! Btw please reblog 🤭

Series Masterlist

The greatest benefit of being rich and going to a very prestigious university meant owning your own mansion with your eight boyfriends. That was a lot of lovers but you didn’t mind and neither did they. Of course, there was always someone who’d called you a whore for having so many men to yourself. You would ignore them because you knew your boyfriends loved you, they took care of your every need.

Each man was different, Hongjoong is an art major. Seonghwa is a mathematics major, he’s the nerd of the school. Yunho is an English major, he wants to be a teacher. Yeosang is a cheerleader for the football team. San is a quarterback for the football team. Mingi is a music major but is part of the basketball team. Wooyoung is a dance major. Jongho is part of the soccer team on a scholarship.

One time, Jongho punched one of his teammates in the face for flirting with you in the middle of practice. You had just come from supporting San at his practice, wearing his letter jacket and one of the boys favorite skirts. You had looked so cute cheering on Jongho, he was always so happy to see you there. Though his face had turned sour when he saw his captain walking up to you, a pervy grin on his face.

Oh this infuriated Jongho. Everyone knew at this school that you were taken, yes the relationship was polyamorous but you guys weren’t welcoming anyone else into the relationship. You were happy with just the nine of you.

So to see this vile man reach out to touch you brought pure anger to him. Jongho had charged him, tackling him to the dirt ground. Jongho had broken the man's nose, his knuckles were bleeding. You had to jump the fence to stop your lover. He was nearly kicked off the team until you paid off the school to keep quiet about it. Which he wasn’t very happy about but he got to keep his scholarship so he couldn’t complain. But you rewarded his protective behavior with a blowjob when the two of you got home. Safe to say he got over what you did.

After that, you’d spend time alone in the university’s art room, alone with Hongjoong. You’d sit in his lap while he painted. This was his practice for his future designer line. He wanted his own fashion line but decided on being an art major to help with his goal. His free hand would dance along the inside of your skirt, around the plush of your thighs while his paint brush stroked the canvas in front of him. You’d have to work so hard not to squirm in his lap, else you wanted to be punished for screwing up his artwork. Today was no different.

“Beautiful, you really need to stop moving. You’re gonna mess me up.” He tutted, “You don’t want that, now do you?”

You lightly whined, trying to get off his lap only for him to pull you back down.

Hongjoong didn’t like that you tried to leave him, “You already want to leave me? I thought it was my day?”

“It is your day, Joongie, but, I..” You couldn’t even finish your sentence.

“What is it? Why can’t you stay?”

To answer his question, you dug your ass into his pelvis, “Because, Joongie, I can feel your cock against me.”

Hongjoong set down his paintbrush with a groan, “I really wish you didn’t notice.”

He pushed his wet canvas to the side and bent you over the table, flipping up your skirt, “You’ll let me fuck this pretty cunt, won’t you?”

His words made you quiver, legs threatening to give out beneath you, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? You want me to fuck you so hard that I’ll have to get one of the boys to come pick you up? Cause your brain can only think of my cock?” Hongjoong’s decorated fingers pushed the soaked panties to the side. Your cunt glistening in the light. Just for him.

The moment you felt his lips to your cunt, you let out a loud cry. This man ate out cunt like it was his last meal. He was one of the few of your boyfriends who would even do such a thing.

Your fingers dug into the edge of the table as Hongjoong’s tongue slithered inside of your dripping hole.

Your body lurched forward with his movements. His hands gripped your thighs to let you know he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. Two of his digits pushed inside alongside his tongue, pushing and prodding against your walls. He had to free one of his hands to massage his bulge, the growing discomfort in his shorts.

Once his cock was freed from its confines, he moaned a sigh of relief. His lips peeled away from your cunt, just to rub his cockhead against your folds, “Baby, you’re so soaked, and it's all for me.”

Ah yes, Hongjoong was very cocky, he knew your cunt belonged to your other boyfriends as well.

As he slowly pushed in, your mouth fell open and your eyes widened, still not used to him, “Ah, Joongie, careful. Stretching me so much.”

Hongjoong dipped his fingers in his paint palette and marked your ass cheeks with color. The cold liquid gave shivers down your spine. The red and yellow contrasted beautifully in his eyes, he couldn’t wait for the day for you to let him paint your body like a canvas. His perverted mind thought it would be a great idea to paint your breasts someday.

He watched as his cock pushed into your cunt, the squelching could be heard quite greatly.

-

Your body laid limp on the table, Hongjoong’s cum flowing out of your cunt, “Well, as much as I wanna go for round two, you’re all spent. I’ll call Yunho to pick you up.”

When your tallest boyfriend arrived, he chuckled at the sight of your exhausted body, “Again, Hongjoong? How rough did you go this time?”

As he stepped closer he could see the paint streaks along your body, your eyes were barely staying open, “Yuyu?” You could hardly call out.

“Hi, my sunshine, I’m here to take you home.” Yunho fixed your clothes and lifted your body onto his back, “Mingi is gonna take good care of you because I can’t. I have students I still need to tutor.”

You whined at his words, “But..want you to be home, all of you to be home.”

He couldn’t help but frown as he walked the two of you out the door, “I know, sunshine, but you know how busy we are. Seonghwa and Mingi are at home. You know the rest have their sports practice, I’m not sure if Wooyoung is home or not, but if he is, you know he’ll cook you a nice meal.” He could feel your ruined panties against his back, he’d have to tell Mingi to change you.

Yunho gently sat you in the passenger seat, reaching in the back to grab a blanket, covering your shaking legs, “Oh, sunshine, he really put you through it.” He chuckled to himself.

“Yunho?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Shut up.”

Yunho looked offended before he went around the car to get in the passenger seat, “You know, as rich as you are, you seem to love to be spoiled only by your eight boyfriends.”

“Yeah well, the money doesn’t matter to me, all that matters is I have you guys. It would be very lonely in that mansion without you boys.” You sighed, fiddling with your fingers.

As the car rumbled to life, Yunho reached over the console to grip your blanket covered leg, “Sunshine, don’t worry, we won’t be going anywhere. We wouldn’t dream of it. You’re stuck with us and us with you.”

-

Yunho honked the horn a couple times and a very rough looking Mingi wobbled out of the front door. He must’ve been sleeping. His white hair was a mess, his black rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His shirt was wrinkled and his basketball shorts hung low on his waist. He wore his cute little flip flops too. You did spoil them with designer clothes but sometimes they liked to dress normal, and so did you.

His face brightened up when he saw you in the front seat. He was like an excited puppy as he opened the passenger seat, “Hi Yunho, hello my princess.” Mingi’s plush lips pressed against yours as he leaned into the car, his huge hand practically swallowed your cheek.

Yunho leaned over the console and smacked Mingi’s shoulder, “Come on, lover boy, take her inside and do what I told you, I gotta get back to lessons. I cannot be late.”

“Be nice, Yuyu, he’s just excited to see me.” You unbuckled your seat belt and tossed the blanket in the back. You tried to step out of the car but your wobbly legs nearly gave out on you, luckily Mingi caught you.

“Goodbye Yunho.” You both waved your goodbyes as he drove away.

He carried you inside, already dismissing your butler and cleaning servants earlier. He knew he was about to make you scream in the bathroom, of course he had to be careful, knowing you just had the daylight fucked out of you by one your shared older boyfriends.

He took you up the giant staircase, took a left and brought you into the main bathroom. The massive tub sat in the middle, it was a square marble tub. The inner lining itself was white and had jets hooked in.

After he sat you on the side of the tub, he slowly pulled off your shoes, your socks. His cheeks reddened when he saw the state of your underwear but continued on, removing your clothes.

“Just sit here and look pretty, I’m gonna let the bath run.” He leaned over to turn the hot water on, “Did you need anything else?”

“Do you mind staying with me, Mingi? I’m really sore and don’t want to be alone..I’ll let you clean me?”

Mingi grinned at that, anything for his princess, “Of course I can.” He threw his wrinkled tank top to the side, his glasses falling to the ground but he didn’t care. He was stripped within seconds, proudly standing bare before you.

You slowly sunk yourself into the water and Mingi sat behind you, his chest pressed against your back, “The warm water feel good, princess?”

You let out a moan in contentment, the water already doing wonders on your sore cunt, “Yes, Mingi, it’s amazing, thank you, big boy.”

Minutes after just relaxing in the water, the tall man’s hand slinked around your shoulder to wrap around your throat, “it’s okay, princess.”

You let out a whimper as you could feel his hardening cock from behind.

“I won’t fuck you with my cock because I know you’re hurting, but you can handle my fingers, right?” His husky voice reverberated in your ear. If it wasn’t for the water, you just knew you’d be wet right now.

“Mingi, please, don’t tease me and just touch me.” Your ass pressed against his cock and his grip on your neck tightened in response.

“I’ll touch you but you just can’t move, got it?”

You couldn’t even get out a word before his fingers went for your cunt, still stretched out from Hongjoong.

Your lips curled inward and your head fell back to his chest, “Mingi!” His fingers were already doing wonders.

His heavy breathing was so hard to focus on as his eyes were glued to the way your cunt sucked in his fingers.

Mingi’s fingers were so long they could easily touch your cervix, “I can feel Hongjoong’s cum inside of you, princess, seems like you need a good cleaning, yeah?”

You whined, “He’s your boyfriend just as much as he is mine, ah Mingi!”

His fingers squeezed your throat, “Doesn’t mean I can’t get jealous, this cunt is heavenly.”

His teeth latched onto your shoulder as he quickened his pace, the water was splashing everywhere. His fingers never slowed down. You could feel his calloused fingertips touching your walls. Those guitar playing fingers.

“Come on, princess, cum for me, cleanse that delicious cunt for me.” He let out a growl.

With your cunt still overstimulated, your orgasm came quick and flooded around his fingers.

He pulled out his fingers with a smile, watching as the water washed the cum from his fingers, “Oh, princess, seems you came a lot..” Mingi kissed along the crevice of your neck while you whined in exhaustion.

“Mingi, please, need..bed.” You could barely keep your eyes open.

“Sure, princess, let’s go get some rest in.”

[photo1030]

Heyyy I have a suggestion to make it’s kinda stupid whatever so it takes place at the mayor’s party where Arthur Morgan and Dutch is meeting mr Bronte and reader come running to Mr Bronte for some random reason and sense she’s wearing a corset she can’t get all the air in her lungs AND SHE PAST OUT so Arthur or Dutch (I LUV THEM BOTH teehee) gotta RIPS her out the corset.. that’s all I got LOVE YOUR WRITING BTWW MWAH! ❤️❤️❤️

Hi there @lizzie2980 So sorry this has taken me forever. Thank you for being so kind and patient (and hopefully still interested?) This was a great prompt, had a lot of fun with this one.

This is a bit out of the canon story, hopefully that is OK. This is a little bit of flirty and protective Arthur, with a smidge of charming Dutch in there...lovely combo, if you ask me....which you did...(This is not part of my existing fic, Leather and Lace, btw)

(The images used here were found on a lovely blog that is apparently designed to help fanworks. Check it out! Thank you to whoever put that together. https://reddeadreference.tumblr.com/post/679731317406072832/the-gilded-cage )

*Special thanks to @appalachiancowboy99 for being my sounding board.

DON’T MAKE A SCENE 

Summary:  You are at Angelo Bronte’s house for a fancy garden party when you meet a certain group of outlaws.

Your hands clamp down tighter as the plump elderly matron apologetically yanks the strings of the restrictive corset. Nails of already shaky fingers dig into the wooden bedpost that you use to support yourself with as you stand on wavering feet. You wince on the verge of painful tears as Bridget stands behind you and pulls the threads of the already too tight garment even tighter still, testing the limits of its stitching and causing a gasp to quickly get sucked into your folded-up lungs with each pull.

Sunset has already begun, the brilliant orange disc settling itself softly behind the horizon line for the day, and your room slowly dims to a pastel dusk as you get ready, the wall sconces glowing against the ivory painted walls of your lavish private quarters inside Angelo Bronte’s mansion. The garden party below will be starting any minute, and the shadows that dance along the walls inside the house mask the dread inside your chest. It is as if your hope and spirit are diminishing with the quickly-fading sun. You are hoping that Bridget doesn’t see the trepidation creeping into your expression as she flits about you, but the older woman is too shrewd for that. 

“You know...Mr. Bronte…he isn’t going to wait much longer for you”, she murmurs as her weathered fingers begin to run over your frame, smoothing out the fabric of your dress, picking at errant threads. “He will eventually want what he feels he is due.”

The obvious statement hits your gut like a prize-fighter’s punch. “I know,” you utter with a dejected sigh, your voice almost a whimper in the air.

The thought of the man’s pock-marked, oily skin against your own makes you sick to your stomach. It would be like a vile lizard rubbing up against you. 

But Bridget is not unsympathetic to your situation. She is definitely a woman of experienced years, as the graying hair of her loosely tied-up bun gives testament to. And she knows a thing or two from her twenty-some years in service to upper-society households. 

“You know, sometimes when you’re a woman, you just have to do what you have to do. Close your eyes and let your mind go somewhere else when it’s happening.” She waves her hand dismissively in the air as if speaking about the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. “Just tune it all out, let the man have his way, and then it will all be over quickly. In fact, it’s usually over quicker than you think.” She gives you a whimsical wink as a sharp cackle snaps out of her throat at her own joke. Whether Bridget is speaking specifically about Bronte, or any man for that matter, you are not sure, as this seems to have the feel of a rehearsed speech she has given many times over.

When Bridget sees the distaste of such a thing clearly coating your face as you silently stand there with your hands fidgeting over themselves, she continues.

“If you’re clever enough, you could let him have what he wants, but then have something for yourself on the side, you know.” 

Your eyes immediately shoot up to hers to find that knowing twinkle in her eye. The thought causes a humorless huff from your lips. 

“I can barely manage to look after myself, Bridget. I couldn’t manage that cat-and-mouse game.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugs and continues to primp and preen your outfit. 

Despite the odd advice, you are grateful for Bridget’s counsel. She is the only friend you have here in Angelo Bronte’s mansion. You are not a hostage per se, but he has made his opinions very clear on how he feels about a woman, especially one indebted to him, leaving the premises to socialize without him as your escort and chaperone; so improper, so ungrateful. 

It is especially warm tonight on the evening of the garden party that Mr. Bronte has been planning for weeks now. The whole household buzzes with excitement and anticipation for the fancy event, despite the sweltering weather. St. Denis is dreadfully hot and muggy, making it difficult to breathe on a good day. You’re not used to such heat. You come from the northern state of Massachusetts, which is much cooler. The heat here is bad enough, but the humidity clings to the air like a wet blanket. 

And this damn dress doesn’t help in the slightest. 

The dress that Angelo Bronte hand-picked for you to wear tonight is way too tight, making you lightheaded already. You watch in the full-length mirror as the constricting fabric pulls your body into shape under Bridget’s strong, able fingers, transforming your voluptuous figure into an hourglass. A deep midnight blue hued fabric that shimmers in the light is cut to hug and accent your physique, leaving little to the imagination of the observer. 

If the origins of the dress weren’t so distasteful, you may have very well liked the beautiful gown that currently clings to your form and drapes over your hips in a cascade of silk. But you know Bronte did not provide this gown to please you. No, he did it for his own inflated ego. Bronte will parade you around tonight like a prized horse out of his stable, showing you off to all in tonight’s attendance. And he’ll treat you as such too - like something he’s purchased and owns outright.

You curse yourself for letting yourself get into this situation. You hate that you have to rely on this man for a place to live. You arrived new to St. Denis a month ago and were promptly robbed upon arrival, leaving you with nothing. So much for civilization. 

Bronte noticed you at the train station, frazzled and lost, and totally beside yourself as to what you would do now. You came here with no relatives, no contacts, just the promise of jobs and new adventure out West from an ad you saw in the newspaper back home. The man quickly made your acquaintance, preying like a vulture on your vulnerable situation. He was charming with a note of authority, like he knew exactly what to do and where to go. But it quickly became apparent that he offered you his home as a sanctuary in hopes to win your affections. You’ve managed to play coy for awhile, however, agreeing to be on his arm and accompany him to various social functions in town in exchange for residency in his home. But you have denied the man what he wants most - you in his bed. 

An involuntary sigh passes your cherry lips as Bridget takes your hand in hers, patting it in the same way a grandmother comforts her troubled grandchild, and leads you to the vanity along the opposite wall so she can set your hair. Your body mindlessly drifts to the tapestry-padded stool, like a lost flower petal in the wind, void of any energy or enthusiasm. 

Bridget’s nimble fingers curl your hair and pin it back to showcase your pretty face, adding in beautiful crystal clips for decoration and she even weaves a few flower buds from the garden into your locks. You sit silently in front of the vanity mirror with a blank stare, a melancholy overtaking your soul as you watch her prepare you to be the perfect accessory to the rich man’s life. The motherly woman’s presence comforts you, but she is also serving you up to the master of the house like a slice of beef on a silver platter for him to devour. 

“There, now. Don’t you just look breathtaking?” she breaths in awe. The deep-set lines around Bridget’s hazel-colored eyes crinkle as she admires her masterpiece. Your eyes refocus to catch the old woman’s proud gaze in the mirror, and then back over your own reflection.

“Yes, Bridget,” you whisper with a sad smile, your lower lip quivering just slightly. “You did a fine job. Thank you for your help tonight.” She catches the reluctance in your fluttering eyes and can only nod in agreement. She lovingly pats your arm in an attempt to comfort your growing uneasiness. 

“Well, I had better get downstairs and tend to the kitchen, then. Don’t hide up here too long, miss.” And she wipes her hands on her apron as her wide hips carry her to the bedroom door before she slips out and you are alone with your thoughts once again. 

With a deep sigh, you haul yourself up to stand. You swish the heavy fabric of your dress-skirts to the side to allow you to amble over to the balcony doors of your private room. Pulling the double-doors open wide with both hands, you step out onto the freshly painted wood as a rush of humid air hits you like a wall, causing you to take a brief pause to try to catch your breath. Your hands eventually find their place upon the smooth railing as you step up to the edge to look out over the balcony at the garden party below. 

Jovial music floats up to your ears from the string quartet that is playing on the patio beneath you. String lights delicately criss-cross over the open garden area, resembling a net that has caught a thousand fire-flies. Bronte’s guests have already started to arrive and their chatter fills the air, alternating with the clinks of champagne flutes. You casually observe as greedy fingers grab at the delectable food and free alcohol that is meticulously displayed along elegant tables that dot across the property, the delicious aromas wafting through the evening air. 

The scene laid out before you is like a page out of the society section of the newspapers. Always over-the-top, always impressive, Angelo Bronte spares no expense in his functions. Decadent food, expensive wines, extravagant decor. Always to impress the upper echelon of society. And yet, you have no desire to mingle with the high-society of St. Denis. From what you’ve seen, it’s hardly impressive to you. 

You watch with disinterest over the crowd, observing from the elevated vantage point as people collect in small groups, then turn to whisper to each other like conniving socal piranhas the moment one of the fold turns to leave to join another circle. With a scornful roll of your eyes, you have no idea how you are going to make it through this evening unscathed. 

And then, a collection of unknown men catch your eye. You’ve never seen them in Bronte’s circle before. And they clearly don’t belong. Under closer observation, this is an assembly of rugged looking gentlemen, a sharp contrast to the other guests in attendance tonight. Though they may have donned fancy tuxedos and hats, the way they carry themselves indicates they are not used to wearing such garb. Their eyes nervously shift all around instead of at whoever is addressing them as if more interested in what is happening around them rather than trying to assert social connections. Your bottom lip gets pulled between your teeth as your curious gaze lingers on them, trying to determine if they were invited or snuck in with the crowd.

As if he can feel your eye on him with the sixth sense of a trained outlaw, Arthur instinctively looks away from the men he is standing with and looks up towards the balcony of the great house and notices you. He doesn’t smile or even move for that matter, other than a single eyebrow lift as if in confusion. Your breath catches a bit at being caught staring. But yet you cannot bring yourself to break eye contact with the startling blue eyes gazing back at you from across the garden. And you can’t help the soft smile that blooms across your blushing cheeks at the ruggedly handsome man. 

When the mystery man eventually turns his attention back to his companions, you shake your head back to reality and decide you’ve stalled long enough. It’s time to begin to make your way down to the garden party and get this over with. You leisurely stroll along the length of the wrap-around balcony of the house to the stairs that will carry you down to the patio. Your hand has to grip the railing of the staircase as you walk, as your dress is so tight that descending the stairs makes you out of breath. The boning of the corset digs painfully into your ribs and hipbones as you move. Such a dreadful, masochistic thing, you wonder why on earth women put themselves through such torture for the sake of fashion. Once at the bottom, you attempt to take a deep breath, bringing your fingertips to your temples before bracing yourself to join the guests. 

First order of business, you scan the crowd to locate your host. It takes a few minutes, but you eventually lock-in on him when you hear his boisterous, condescending laugh echoing over the throng of people. Angelo Bronte really is a toad of a man. And despite his money and power, he is rather socially inept. Maybe it’s the fact that he's not from this country. Or maybe society is held differently in Italy. But either way, the elite here in St. Denis have mixed feelings about the wealthy man. Mixed as in, they like his wealth but do not care for the man. And that is where you come in. 

Bronte’s idea is that having a beautiful, refined and charming woman on his arm will make him appear more distinguished. Your role in this little arrangement with him is to be the doting young paramore, helping him to navigate the social circles. No one needs to be the wiser that the two of you sleep in separate rooms on completely different ends of the house. But for appearances sake, Angelo Bronte has acquired himself quite the crown jewel with your presence. 

As you meander through the crowd, you keep getting intercepted by random party guests, each one handing you a new glass of champagne. Your eye catches Bronte’s a few times as you mingle, as he checks to make sure you are performing as expected. Of course, the witty jokes, effervescent laughing and demure little smiles that emanate from you work according to plan. You can see Bronte pointing you out to guests from across the garden, a crude grin of approval splitting across the faces of the men he leans into, all chattering with hushed tones and hungry eyes. It’s enough to make your corset-restricted stomach turn. 

After about forty five minutes of false chuckles and empty smiles, you are desperate for fresh air and peace and quiet, so you discreetly head to the rose garden which is off to the right side of the party, hoping to find less people there.

Wandering aimlessly through the maze of hedges and rose bushes, you manage to find a quiet little corner away from prattling visitors and raise your tired eyes to the heavens above. The smog of St. Denis covers the night sky and it leaves you with a heavy feeling of disappointment that even the vast galaxy of stars is being kept from you in this dreadful place. With a dispirited sigh, your tear-misted eyes slowly roll shut, attempting to find some sort of solitude from this hell on earth. 

“Is this a safe place to hide?”

The sound of a deep, gravelly voice suddenly cuts into your mind, causing your eyes to snap open as you spin to see who is speaking to you. 

And there he is. The handsome fellow who you were staring at from the balcony. He stands quietly, a slight smirk of amusement on his face. It takes you a few moments to realize that he is indeed real, no fantasy apparition to come to stand before you. Confused blinks skitter across your face as you take in the sight of him. Now that you are up close to him, you can see just how tall and broad-shouldered he is. 

“Sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he offers when you hesitate to answer, his simple apology carrying little fanfare or bravado. Just a simple statement with no malice, no ill-content and no agenda towards you. 

“Oh…no…you didn’t startle me,” you manage to stammer as you try to regain your composure.

The stranger’s ocean-blue eyes float across your frame, head to toe, assessing you with a slight tilt of his head.  “You sure about that?” he jokes as he gives you a deeper smirk now.

Picking up on his genuine humor, you release the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. “No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I just needed a minute, is all. I didn’t expect anyone to be back here.” 

When you lob a smile back at him in return, Arthur takes a gamble and begins to move slightly closer to you, specifically intent on maintaining this conversation. “Hmm, needing to get away from the herd? Is that it?”

The term causes a chuckle to erupt out of your throat. “Yeah, something like that.” You begin to step towards him as well, both of you moving slowly yet purposefully towards the other to close the gap between you until you are about three feet from each other. The air surrounding the garden is like that before a thunderstorm, exhilarating because it could be both beautiful and dangerous at the same time. The two of you stand quietly, simply staring at the other like a couple of clumsy teenagers not knowing what to say. 

“No offense, but you don’t seem like you belong here,” you finally break the amorous spell with a raised eyebrow. As your words hover like a butterfly in his ears, you note the faded scars along the man’s chin, embedded into his tanned skin and nestled beneath his rugged beard that you can see was probably hastily groomed for this evening.

He doesn’t deny it, but counters almost playfully with “I could say the same for you.”

You flirtatiously narrow your eyes at him. “What makes you say that?”

He waves his large finger towards you. “You carry the same disdain for this place on your face that I do.”

Well, you have to admit, he’s got you there and all you can do is nod in agreement. “That obvious, huh?”

“Just a bit,” he chuckles, bringing his hand up to pinch his fingers together to accent his point. “It's ok, though. Glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to be here.” And he tosses a perturbed glace back over his shoulder towards the noise of the party. 

“I guess that makes us two peas in a pod, then, doesn’t it?” you muse with a glittering smile that makes his chest tight.

A grin pulls at the corner of the stranger’s plump lips, causing his scarred chin to wrinkle. “I guess it does, doesn’t it?” 

“My name is Y/F&LN”. You extend your hand out and his large hand completely engulfs yours, dwarfing your delicate fingers with his own. You immediately notice how his skin is rough, yet warm to the touch, his hand strong in a comfortingly protective way. 

“Arthur Morgan.”

And the two of you hold each other’s gaze like a spark of electricity pulsing through the air to connect you. You can feel your fingertips go numb as your heart beats faster within your perfume-dusted chest. And Arthur hopes that you do not notice how he thickly swallows, flexing his now-sweaty hands before awkwardly kneading his thumb into the opposite palm. 

But your beautiful little moment together is short-lived when you hear your name being called out into the night, snapping you back to the real world. And before you know it, a very anxious-looking Bridget appears from around the hedges, her eyes darting around, her lips pressed tightly together in worry. 

“Miss Y/N, there you are! Mr. Bronte is asking for you.” She gives you a sharp wave in her direction before her eyes quickly slip to the burly gentleman to your right.

An embarrassed school-girl blush dusts your cheeks as you clear your throat. “Yes, of course, Bridget, thank you. I’ll be right there.” You turn back to Arthur. “Well, Mr. Morgan, it was very nice to meet you. If you will excuse me, please.”

“‘Course.” Arthur dips his head with a respectful nod as you float past him, your fingertips nervously tucking a few tendrils of hair behind your ear. 

Bridget gives Arthur a good look up and down before she turns and follows behind you back towards the music of the garden party with a sly, smug smile drawn on her lips. “Maybe you’re more clever than you think,” she whispers impishly in your ear. You shoot her a cautionary look as you smooth your hands over the fabric of your dress, making sure that you are presentation-ready before you make your way to your host. 

As you navigate the crowd to approach Bronte, you take notice that he is talking to the other men that came with Mr. Morgan. The moment he catches sight of you, Bronte’s face lights up.

“Ah, Miss Y/N! There you are! Come, Come!” He waves you over to stand next to him. “I’d like you to meet some special guests.” Bronte crudely clutches your hand, bringing it to his saliva-slick lips before eagerly wrapping it around his arm. “This is Mr. Van der Linde, and his associates, Mr. Williamson and Mr. Matthews. Gentleman, this is my…’companion’, Miss Y/LN.”

You force down the bile in the back of your throat that the toad conjures up as a graceful nod and accompanying smile adorns your pretty face when you turn towards the men you are being presented to. “Gentleman, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

“Miss Y/L/N,” Mr. Van Der Linde greets you as he flashes a sultry grin in your direction, boldly reaching his ringed hand to take ahold of yours that sits tucked in Bronte’s elbow. He brazenly brings your digits to his warm mouth to place a tender kiss along your knuckles. “Call me Dutch.” His dark eyes fully take you in with a glitter of mischief behind them. “Mr. Bronte is indeed a lucky man.”

Unlike Angelo Bronte, you find this new social contact of his to be quite charismatic and charming. And while most of the attendees of this event carry some level of bravado, this man standing in front of you seems to be quite different, the type to put his money where his mouth is. 

Interest flashes through your eyes at this dark-haired stranger. And Bronte is quick to notice. With a deep scowl of disapproval, his arm quickly snakes around your waist, holding you possessively against him in the presence of these men, so tight that it makes you squirm against his grip. You are about to protest the moderately painful discomfort when Mr. Morgan suddenly joins the circle, his azure eyes immediately targeting the meaty hand that grips your hip before lifting to meet your grimacing expression. The sight makes his face turn dark with a menacing presence to it. It almost shocks you to see the stark contrast to his demeanor from your encounter a few moments ago. 

“Quite the shindig you got goin’ here, Bronte,” Mr. Morgan says cooly, his statement breaking the tension of the social circle. “You always run things like this?”

The disapproval in your new friend’s voice causes one of the other men in his group (Mr. Matthews, is it?) to shoot him a glare of warning, to which Mr. Morgan shrugs off. 

Bronte lifts his nose at the rub, but he will not be made a fool of so easily at the challenge. “Ah, I’m sure you country folk are not used to such luxury, yes?”  

“Personally, I don’t care for it,” snarks Arthur with a snort of derision. “Hard to enjoy myself like a gluttonous pig when there’s people right outside the gate starvin’”

As you stand there next to Bronte listening to these men throw thinly veiled contempt at one another, you begin to feel dizzy. Your head starts to swim, spots dancing before your eyes, making your stomach lurch. But no one notices at first, except for Mr. Van Der Linde.

“You alright, miss?” Mr. Van Der Linde questions you with concern skipping across his dark features. 

“Oh, yes,” you wave him off. “It’s just…just this heat…” You begin to fan yourself, desperate for some cool air to caress your face. 

And suddenly the world around you starts to spin and your knees give way underneath you as if they move of their own accord. You begin to crumple in front of everyone and Dutch is quick to catch you just before you hit the ground, his strong arms shooting out to enfold you and ease you into the grass. The moment Arthur sees that you are in trouble, he promptly hovers over you as well, catching your hand into his own and placing himself between you and Bronte as things go dark in front of your eyes.

A collection of curious guests begins to gather around the spectacle, whispers and fingers discreetly pointing in your direction.

“The lady needs some air,” asserts Dutch as he kneels behind you.

Arthur is at a loss on what to do at first, but is quick to notice how restrictive the corset of your dress is, as your chest can barely move as you desperately gasp for air, your face turning red from the heat of the evening.

With a look of determination, Arthur’s rough hands wrap around your biceps and carefully lift the upper part of your limp body to lean against Dutch, who cradles you into his chest for support. Without a word, Arthur grabs at the fabric of your dress and quickly rips the corseted area wide open, easily tearing the seams under his hands, to release your lungs, exposing the delicate silk undergarments and bare skin hidden beneath. Shock slaps Angelo Bronte in the face as he stands behind Arthur, helplessly watching this embarrassing little scene unfold before his eyes. 

Ignoring the judgemental gasps of the partygoers, Arthur then proceeds to snatch a glass of champagne out of the hands of one of the nosey women craning her neck to see the spectacle and tosses the liquid into your face. The moment the bubbly fluid hits your skin, your eyes instantly pop open as you deeply gasp, desperate to expand your lungs to draw in fresh air. 

Arthur cautiously watches your face in anticipation as you rapidly blink the sweet nectar out of your lashes. Your eyes land on Arthur in confusion as to what has just happened before looking down at yourself and realize that you are now exposed to the whole party. But Arthur immediately takes off his jacket and lays it overtop of you as you sit nestled safely against Dutch who is still behind you. And Arthur breathes a sigh of relief when he recognizes the threads of alertness brightening your features once again. 

“Get the hell outta here,” Arthur orders the crowd, waving them away with a wide arc of his long arm. “Nothing to see here, just a woman needing some air, is all.”

“Can you stand, miss?” Dutch’s deep voice carries softly over your shoulder and into your ear, anchoring you back to consciousness. 

“I think so,” you venture, although the wavering in your voice is not entirely convincing. Your head is still swimming with confusion, but at least you can breathe now and the pounding in your temples has started to recede. 

Arthur takes your hand again, his other slipping under your arm to guide you to your feet as Dutch carefully steadies you from behind. 

“I don’t know what to say,” you say sheepishly looking up into Arthur’s worried face. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” Bronte suddenly bellows, finally finding his voice of outrage. “Thank you?! You make a scene in my house and you say ‘thank you?!”

“Easy, leave her be,” Arthur growls out, turning his threatening gaze to the party’s host. “Can’t you see the lady isn’t well?”

“No, she most certainly is not!” Bronte spits back in anger. His heartless, burning eyes now land back on you, his nostrils flaring wildly with impatience as his expression screws up into a hateful scowl. “Nuisance! I knew it was a mistake to bring you here” he hollers at you, flecks of spittle flying in your direction. “Should’ve left you at the station where I found you!” His finger thrown in your face causes you to shrink backwards, leaning your back into Dutch yet again, where the man’s hands protectively come up to cradle your arms. 

But Arthur is not having any of it, protectively placing his large bear-like frame between you and Bronte, towering over the other man and desperately trying to refrain from landing his massive fist into his face. “You best keep that finger to yourself, Mr. Bronte, else I'll break it clean off.” Arthur’s tone is low and deep, his threat making a shutter cascade down your spine as you watch with baited breath for what is to happen next. 

“Get out! All of you! Get! Out!” Bronte screams, waving at the group of newcomers. “And take that bitch with you, too!”

Your heart sinks as you watch the Italian spin on his heels and storm off towards the house, his arms flailing wildly as he vents his frustrations and anger out into the ether. The party has clearly ended now, as the guests murmur and whisper amongst themselves about the outrageous scene and begin to file out of the garden to leave. 

Your head hangs a bit in shame as you nibble nervously on your pink bottom lip, holding Arthur's jacket over your chest like armor. You have no love lost for Angelo Bronte, but the idea that you now have nowhere to go is a little terrifying. You have no money, no provisions. Nothing. 

Arthur turns to look at you, seeing your soft face frozen in stunned silence. His own countenance turns sheepish as he now realizes that he has cost you your home. “Sorry about that,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub behind his neck in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to get you tossed out.”

“Don’t trouble yourself.” You shake your head and place a grateful hand along Arthur’s arm. “You probably did me a favor.” Your smile is warm and forgiving, but it doesn’t make him feel any less responsible for your new predicament. “But I meant what I said, Mr. Morgan. Thank you,” you whisper emphatically. Your gentle voice causes butterflies to flutter in his belly. 

“You have anywhere to go now?” Arthur asks, his blue eyes burning into your own. God, how you could get lost in those eyes for hours. 

Sadly, you shake your head, confirming his suspicions. 

“Well, then,” interrupts Dutch from where he still stands behind you, “If that is the case, you are welcome to come with us, Miss Y/L/N.” He offers you another of his charming smiles as he holds open Arthur’s jacket as you slide your arms in, and he pulls the oversized garment protectively over your shoulders. He then offers you his arm to escort you away from the party, with his entourage in tow. 

Arthur gives a lofty eye-roll to the heavens at Dutch’s attempt to swoon you, causing Mr. Matthews to chuckle at the interaction. But you smile graciously at Mr. Van der Linde’s offer as you gladly accept his arm and begin to walk with him. You look back over your shoulder and give Arthur a demure little grin, which he returns as he follows you and Dutch out to the front of the property towards the awaiting carriages with Mr. Matthews and Mr. Williamson close behind. 

“Thank you, Mr. Van Der Linde,” you smile brightly up at him. “I just may have to take you up on that offer.” 

Masterlist for more Arthur goodness

Taglist: @appalachiancowboy99 @rivetingrosie4

[campbell-rose]

Charlie Redesign!

I want charlie to look super out of place in Hell. I wanted her color palette to resemble the sky, as the sky can symbolize infinity and is usually associated with the place gods reside, high above it all. The main point is looking super out of place in Pride, which will carry over to Vaggie. I made her colors bright because i can’t be bothered to alter the colors of Viv’s hell to dull it down and from the trailer it doesn’t seem like shading is that important. Not shitting on that btw, i hate shading my drawings. 

The way I imagine this version of Charlie is that she helps do the paperwork side of things, since Viv’s hell is just earth but red, I'm just assuming her heaven will be similar. Charlie helps schedule things, she’s kind of a secretary and works under Adam to help make sure the Exterminations go smoothly. She takes stock of weapons, sees what was lost, tallies up the total deaths, general stuff like that, you feel me? She doesn’t like the Exterminations; she thinks it’s horrific and that the people in hell ought to have a chance to come to heaven. 

So it’s basically the exact same plot as before and her personality is the same because Charlie was the only character i liked from the pilot the others all had something that threw the vibes off slightly. Charlie’s relationship with Alastor will be a little different, because he’s one of her benefactors. He wants to watch the pretty little angel’s plans crash and burn, and she is determined to prove him wrong. Side note while I'm thinking of him, I’m changing the overlords – they aren’t sinners that got powers because sinners don’t have powers in this version. Well, no, they are sinners, just sinners that made contracts with demons and gained favor with hell during their lives, earning their own place in the hierarchy of hell. Speaking of which, it goes: Sinners, Overlords, Hellborn, Ars Goetia, Princes/Seven Sins. Overlords are given the power to torture other sinners (so it makes sense that Valentino makes Angel’s life miserable, it’s his job to torment other sinners) 

Once the show actually drops, I might add more benefactors in my rewrite. Like, since Alastor is backing Charlie, the cannibals from cannibal colony will be friendly towards her, things like that. Hell, maybe Val backs her, idk don’t want to jump the shark. 

Either way, i think Charlie being an angel sets her up for a better character arc with her naivete and attitude towards sinners. Also i think my design for her is literally beautiful she’s so pretty, she’s my baby i love her. And for the sake of making things easier, i fused her little goats Razzle and Dazzle with the key cat KeeKee because i think having three cute little pets is too many and R/D didn’t really do anything in the pilot. I’ve doodled them a bit, haven’t settled on a design yet. In my mind this little kitty is a cherub thing that Husk adores as his first hint of not being a complete ass. 

Any who. That is all. 

[vanishingstarrs]

decode ( e. kirishima x reader, secret admirer trope )

For weeks all you could think about were the little notes folded up into hearts that you’d been finding in your locker every day.

The first one appeared over a month ago and stated: you look badass in your new costume.

You’d been pretty insecure when submitting in the new design for your hero suit and despite all your friends encouragement you still felt a bit out of place among the rest of your classmates, who always looked confident and powerful in theirs.

You weren’t expecting anything, but the next day another fell out when you went to grab a textbook in between classes and it said— that new move was impressive, your improvement and dedication amazes me each day.

And the next day.

have a great day, gorgeous

And the next.

you were awesome in that training exercise

And more.

that test was rough, hope you did better than i did— your concentrating face is cute btw <3

you kicked bakugo’s ass today (and looked hot doing it), it was great!

you’re so strong and pretty

They continued every day to the point where you had finally called an emergency meeting with your friends, you laid back on Momo’s luxurious bed with a sigh,“I have no clue, who could it be? It has got to be someone in our class with the way they know so much, but…”

“But…?” Kyoka urged you on.

Another sigh left your lips, and you couldn’t help scrunch up your face as you looked at your friends,“None of the boys in our class seem to give off secret admirer potential, what if it’s just some sick prank one of them is doing?”

“For that long?” Momo questioned before shaking her head,“I don’t know, not even our guys seem capable of something so cruel.”

“Maybe you just haven’t given the right one the chance to step up?” Ochaco offered up.

“I mean what are her options?” Mina snorted, she held a list of all the guys in their class.

You guys had gone through and already crossed off a couple that were definite no’s, people like Mineta, Sero, and Kaminari who were self proclaimed “ladies men”. You considered that it might be one of the quieter boys, maybe Kirishima or Todoroki, even Ojiro.

You had reassured Ochaco that Midoriya wasn’t even a possibility, considering the boy was loud and open about his admiration for others and could tell she was relieved when you did.

You shrugged, having gone over any interactions with the boys in your class multiple times. “I don’t know, I’m not really close with any of them… I mean I sit next to Kaminari and Kirishima so I guess they’re my friends? But Kaminari has eyes on a new girl every day and I could swear Kirishima had told me about…”

“Who?!” All four girls sat up impatiently.

“No one.” You smirked,“I don’t spill your guys’ private conversations.”

“Boooo!” Toru threw a crumbled up piece of paper at you.

You opened up your latest two notes.

golden hour looks breathtaking on you

you’ve officially taken up a permanent residence in my mind, i think of you all day long…

“Wait!” Jiro stood up suddenly, snatching one note along with her as she began digging around in her backpack.

“Hey!” You pouted, but she shushed you.

“I know how we’ll solve this mystery.” She pulled out a notebook from class.

“How?!” Ochaco asked excitedly.

You almost didn’t want to know, what if you confronted the person and it went awry?

“Okay, so last week I asked Shouji to borrow some notes for a lecture I wasn’t really listening to and look!”

All five of you leaned forward to look at the notebook and the messy scrawl on the page.

“His penmanship is quite poor.” Momo pointed out and you silently agreed.

Jiro rolled her eyes,“Not why I’m showing you guys this, what I’m getting at is that we can just ask all the boys to write something down and compare their handwriting to the notes!”

“Genius!” Mina shot up,“I was just thinking I was really hungry, we could tell them we’re ordering some takeout and have each individually write out if they want anything.”

“Perfect, we should split up and do it quick.” Ochaco agreed.

Your heartbeat picked up and you anxiously wrung your hands,“Okay, but also can we actually order food? I eat when I’m nervous and right now I’m a wreck. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Girl, you got this!” Mina turned to you with a big, encouraging smile and you returned it, albeit not as bright as hers. “Let’s find this guy!”

The group quickly agreed and everyone split up to take the class’s requests for dinner.

By the time you all met up in Momo’s room again, you were tense. You each had a note and several options to compare from, a few were easy to immediately knock off. You continued going down your list until you gasped, unable to help yourself as you met the gazes of your friends.

“What?!” Mina’s eyes bulged.

You swallowed,“I know who it is.”

Your friends all eyed the pieces of paper with matching handwriting and by the next day had convinced you to go up to the boy. You could feel their stares on you as you called out his name and beckoned him into the hall during homeroom period, asking if you could get his advice on something. You took a deep breath as you led him to a secluded window further down the hallway, mentally preparing yourself for denial.

“So what’s up?” He didn’t hesitate to follow you and ask,“You okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You shrugged,“I’ve just been a little… anxious, I guess? Good anxious, but still anxious nonetheless. You see, I’ve been getting these notes in my locker ever since day but there’s no name attached to them so it’s just a little weird. I’ve been trying to figure out who it is, racking my brain like crazy.”

“Can I see one?” Kirishima asked.

“Sure, here’s today’s.” You handed him over the crisply folded sheet of notebook paper, one you could now recognize and knew was getting thinner by the pages being ripped out daily. The note read: i wish i could tell you who i am.

You could see him gulp and leaped to take your chance.

“To be honest, I’d just wanna thank the person. I’ve been struggling with some confidence issues lately and their notes every day have really been keeping my spirits up.” You turned toward the window and away from him with a sigh,“They must not think they’re brave enough to tell me, but they shouldn’t be scared of—”

“Y/N…”

You turned around immediately, eyes widening at the fact that he’d used your first name. Kirishima was standing pin straight, holding the note tight in one hand and you almost felt bad for pushing him… but you had to know if your suspicions were correct. Besides, you hadn’t been lying. You really did want to thank him for always making you smile every day.

“It’s… I wrote the notes, I’m the one who’s been sneaking them into your locker every day.” He bowed slightly,“I apologize for not being man enough to sign my name or just say all these things to your face, but I wasn’t sure of how you’d react or what you would think of me.”

“Eijiro.”

Now it was his turn to be surprised, eyebrows raised as he straightened himself up.

You smiled,“I knew it was you.”

“How…?”

You shrugged, smiling slightly,“A lady never reveals her secrets.”

This made him laugh.

“I’m sorry that I pushed you to confess, I just wanted to know if I was right and I’m glad that I was, glad that you were the one, that is.” You smiled at him,“Your notes are very sweet and I’ve enjoyed having them every day.”

As the bell rung and your classmates started filing out of class you realized your time had run out, you smiled at your friends who were giving you questioning looks. You motioned with your hand for them to move along, smiling bigger when Kirishima turned around to find them gone.

You brought his attention back to you when you spoke again,“Anyway, thanks again. I should get going, I’ve got to get to math and start studying, I’ve got a makeup coming up since I didn’t do all that great on the last exam.”

He nodded, seemingly speechless.

You couldn’t really wait for a response regardless as you rushed to pack up your things and head to your next class before the final bell rung.

You did your best to focus on the extra lessons your teacher was nice enough to give for students who’d been confused about the last test, but all you could do with think about Kirishima and whether he’d stop leaving his notes now that you knew it was him. You somehow managed to avoid him for the rest of the day, and when your friends asked about it all you could do was shrug. Nothing happened, you would say, and it was true.

Nothing happened.

Until the next day, that was.

You were headed to your locker a little earlier than usual, eager to get back to your studies when several notes fell out of your locker. Your face heated up as you rushed to pick them all up, opening the first one carefully.

Only a single word was written on the sheet of paper and you worked quickly in order to unfold the remains slips, reading through it several times just to make sure you weren’t imagining it. It read:

will

you

go

out

with

me?

— eijiro

You shut the locker, forgetting all about your textbook in favor of trying to find him instead. Which was made extremely easy because when you turned around, there he stood.

Eijiro Kirishima.

He held a bouquet of flowers in his arms, and you spotted a plushie of your favorite character in the center of the arrangement. You thought his eye might’ve twitched nervously as he gave you his best smile, you quickly returned it.

“I was just coming to find you.”

“You found me.” He chuckled as he took a few steps closer,“Y/N, would you please do me the honor of going out on a date with me?— it doesn’t have to be today, I know you signed up for the makeup exam in math tomorrow, and actually! If you’d like, that is, I can help you study. I think I know the material well now, and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’d love nothing more than to have the chance to be the man you deserve.”

“One condition.” You smiled, knowing there was no way you would’ve ever said no.

“Anything!” He agreed immediately.

You held up the unfolded hearts he always wrote his notes on,“I still get these every now and then, nonnegotiable, they really make my day.”

Eijiro’s cheeks went as red as his hair as he grinned big, nodding,“Every day.”

“Then yes, I would love to go on a date with you.” You accepted the bouquet he was holding out to you before leaning up slightly and placing a kiss on his cheek,“It’s beautiful, Eijiro, thank you.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

Now you were the one blushing, he’d used a nickname and you definitely liked it.

“You’re cute when you blush.” He complimented.

“Oh my god.” You tried to hide your face in the flowers, unable to stop the large smile from taking over your face.

He was quick to take them back out of your hands, as well as grabbing your book bag from you,“Better get used to it, princess, the notes were just a placeholder until I was able to man up enough to confess, but not a day will go by without a compliment from me, I can promise you that. And no more lugging around heavy textbooks when I’m here either.”

“Thank you, Eijiro.” You felt the blush move higher, your ears feeling warm now too.

“So, study date tonight?”

He’d never admit it, but he’d stayed up late last night going over the necessary chapters in order to be able to help you with your upcoming test. In truth, he had no clue how he passed over you, but he’d make sure it never happened again.

You took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you agreed,“Definitely.”

This time, he was the one to place a kiss onto your cheek as he led the way to homeroom, smiling— beautifully and unabashedly.

Princess treatment?

You could definitely get used to that.

[kabishkat19]

I just saw your character lineup for the grimm legends and I love it so so much! Not only your art is beautiful, I also feel like you nailed each character’s classic vibe while still making them diverse which is amazing! Sadly I couldn’t get if you’re doing a comic/fanfic or smth with them? Btw can’t wait for more whatever it’s story or just character sheets🧡

🖤I’m so glad to hear feedback like this!🖤

As much as I’d love to turn this concept straight into an animated series (I don’t have the time or technology) so the plan is to eventually turn The Grimm Legends into a comic series; there is still some plot points and other storyline’s to iron out before starting tho🖤 I started with the character designs because I already had many of them in my mind as it was and I really wanted to make them real🖤

I do want to put a few fun one shots about the characters just so people can get an idea of what the legends are like…

There is still many more character sheets to come aswell🖤

[didyoulookforme]

“matty has no problem getting himself off in front of you. whether it is by using his hand or having to hump a pillow or whatever”

oh lord i need a blurb of this right now im so serious, matty humping a pillow to get off would be so hot😵‍💫

my dearest anon, thank you for feeding into my delusion ♥️

smutty nonsensical half-baked ramble below.

so here’s the deal.

this is probably one of those nights when matty comes over to your place after his shift is done. you like having your own space so that’s why you don’t live together yet btw, but you might as well be with all of the nights he spends over. and he’s also literally taken over part of your closet, having a designated spot for all of his music t-shirt collection and shorts. ANYWAY. it’s late, you’ve both had dinner and are listening to one of your records as you cuddle on the couch, sharing a glass of red wine. why use two when you can only dirty up one, right?

you want to lay down, so you grab your pillow you keep by the couch (you often nap there because it’s cozy and love falling asleep while listening to music) and place it on his lap with your head on top gazing up at him. matty looks down as he takes a sip of the wine and you can’t help but notice as he grins, an expression you know all too well by now.

“don’t act like this is the first time i’ve had my head between your legs.”

“what now? can’t your boyfriend get excited seeing his girl down on his lap?”

“alright. that's fair. but can your girlfriend know what dirty thought is rattling inside that filthy mind of yours this time?”

he downs the last of the wine before putting the empty glass on the coffee table.

“just made me think of when i was a horny teenager and i’d use a pillow to get off.”

“oh my god matthew. what the fuck?” you sit up to face him at eye level and he just snorts back with one of his stupid laughs.

“you asked and i told you,” he raises his hands up in innocence, “didn’t do anything wrong this time.”

“you’re fucking unreal.”

“oh, c’mon love, humour me here.” he hugs the pillow against his chest trying to give you his best puppy eyes. “you mean to tell me you never used one to make yourself feel good? isn’t it like a rite of passage for every 13 year old?”

it was obvious that the blood rushed straight to your face as you felt your cheeks grow warm. and he instantly noticed, too.

“see?” he gives you a quick peck on the nose. “i knew it.”

“oh, fuck you, matty.”

“you know i’d let you anytime, sweet.”

your hands cover your face in embarrassment but it doesn’t last long as he pries them away to eye you closely.

“or you can watch me fuck this instead,” he motions towards the pillow, “if you want.”

you were utterly and properly numb as soon as those words left his mouth. of course you wanted to watch him. who were you kidding? not him, nor yourself. and you didn’t even get a chance to answer before matty was already lifting his shirt off, doing it in one swift motion just like he knew drove you crazy.

"i swear i can't with you."

"and you don't have to, i'm gonna do the work for you. jus—hey, what the fuck was that for?" you had yanked the pillow from him, smacking him across the face, but he just laughed it off in the end. he knew you were flustered and didn't want to press too hard.

he grabs your wrist and pulls you close so he can kiss you, tasting that familiar mix of cheap red wine and cigarettes. "you sure you are okay with this?"

you just mumble a quiet yes against his lips, the confirmation he needs to start undoing his belt and it's not even ten or twenty seconds later that his shorts and boxers are pooled at his feet. the image of your boyfriend sitting naked in the middle of your couch is not a new one by any means, he's fucked you there countless times already, but you've never seen him like this, with your (favourite) pillow covering his already hard dick.

"c'mere love." he gets you to sit next to him, your left side flush against his body. you swear a part of you dies as his right hand takes your left one, bringing up to give it a kiss before placing it flat on the dark blue cushion, now pressing both of your palms against his cock. this gives him enough friction to start rutting his hips against the pillow, moving at an agonizingly slow pace to keep you from freaking out. and to tease you, of course.

but it doesn't take long before he pushes you hand down further, needing more weight against him. "right there, 'kay love?" and you obey without a second though, feeling as his hard cock moves against your palm. you carefully watch when his head falls back on the sofa, his fingers shifting through his curls when he turns to stare at you.

"gotta say it feels better than i remembered."

you bite on your lip to swallow your proud grin and using that moment to press harder on the pillow.

"shit."

matty moans and groans between laughs, his hips not missing a beat as they continue to rut against the pillow. you can tell he's getting close as his breaths get more high pitched and as he squeezes your thigh trying to keep himself grounded in reality.

"that's it, baby."

he brushes your hair away from your face so he can devour your lips, praises spilling from his mouth into yours.

"always so good for me."

it's only a few minutes later that his legs finally start trembling and you can clearly tell the moment he comes against your pillow, feeling it tense underneath you.

"okay, stop stop st—" you instantly take your hand away as he became overstimulated with the pressure on his now sensitive cock. he likes being calmed down by you kissing his neck so that's exactly what you do.

"well, you've now ruined my pillow." you nip at his collarbone. "thanks so much for that."

"not the first one, love. and hopefully not the last one."

-----

i like to think this is him that night <3

okay, i'm done. thank you for following along. you're the best. i love you dearly.

[morgana-larkin]

First of all I live for your writing!!

And second I have a chessy prompt!!!

Basically r is a poet but doesn’t really talk about it and r decides to write a poem to chessy explaining her feeling for her but doesn’t write her name on it on purpose to have a clear state of mind or something idk😭

Anyways chessy find out that it was r from her handwriting and confronts her about it and r starts rambling and chessy shuts her up by kissing her and says something hot after the kiss then r kisses chessy back and you can go on from there!!

Hi! You’re so sweet! Thank you for the compliment 🥹❤️ . I thought this prompt was so cute. Now, I’m no poet so the poem might be terrible but I tried. I would have had this out earlier but I watched the new episodes of Bridgerton finally and got distracted. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I made Chessy a bottom as I heard someone’s favourite is a bottom Chessy. I’m still taking requests and prompts for every character on my masterlist.

In Writing

Warnings: Smut, Bottom Chessy, Top Reader, lots of fluff

Words: 3.8k

You glance up from your journal, you’re on one of the lounge chairs in your bikini with a see through cover up robe on. You see Chessy playing pool monster with the twins and it’s adorable. The way they swim away from her in a fit of giggles, and how she spins them around and then throws them in the water when she catches them.

You’ve found yourself admiring Chessy a lot lately, just something about her that grabs your attention. You met Chessy awhile ago when the twins were first born. She watched over you a few times as you were 12 years old when the twins were born and you loved spending time with her then, she’s a lot of fun, and it seems that hasn’t changed. Chessy sees you staring and smiles at you.

“Wanna join us y/n?” She asks and the twins both look at you with big smiles.

“Yes! Join us please?” Hallie begs.

“Yes please! It would be so much fun!” Annie said, agreeing with her sister. You loved watching Annie grow up. They were both your nieces, as you were Elizabeth’s younger sister, but you will always feel closer to Annie. When her and Nick split, you didn’t understand why they separated the twins but you respected their decision, even if you didn’t agree with it. Elizabeth made you and the family swear to never tell Annie that she has a twin sister.

As soon as everyone reunited again, Elizabeth invited you to come and meet Hallie, which you agreed to quickly. Here you are 2 years later and you’ve been living with them for a year now. When Nick and Chessy saw you again, they almost couldn’t believe it, the last time they saw you, you weren’t even a teenager. Now here you are, 24 years old, all grown up.

“Wow, y/n, you’ve grown up.” Nick says, still a bit shocked.

“Ya, time has a way of doing that.” You joked with him. You always liked Nick, he was a good guy and good to your sister.

“Everyone! I made some…” Chessy trails off as she sees you. “Y/n?” She asks and you smile and nod. You then run over and hug her.

“Good to see you again Chessy!” You exclaim when you pull back from the hug.

“Ya, it’s good to see you too. My, how you’ve grown.” She says and looks you up and down. “Are you still a little trouble maker like you were years ago?” She asks and you laugh.

“Not a lot of time for trouble but it seems my nieces are picking up the mantle. My sister told me everything that happened.” You say to everyone and the twins smile. “Btw, it’s nice to meet you, Hallie.” You tell her and she waves at you. “I never understood why you split them up.” You say and the twins look at you.

“Wait, you knew?” Annie says and you nod.

“Of course, chess brought me to the hospital to come meet you guys when you were born.” You say and you don’t see Chessy blushing at the nickname.

You and Chessy spent weeks catching up on what you’ve missed. You were able to bring your work with you as you were a designer like your sister and she hired you as soon as you graduated. You were both happy to have it as a family run company.

Besides designing, you also liked to do poetry. It’s a hobby you took up in high school as a way to get your feelings out. Being someone who liked girls when it wasn’t acceptable was hard. You often felt like there was no one to confide in, to talk about it with, so instead you wrote down your feelings, in the form of poems.

You were usually seen writing down in a journal in your free time. And if you weren’t then you were hanging out with someone in the house. I mean there are 6 people plus Sammy in the house, there was always someone there.

“Y/n?!? Are you gonna come?” Annie asked, breaking you out of your little walk down memory lane.

“Oh alright. I’ll join.” You said getting up and putting your journal down. You took your transparent robe off and then walked to the pool. Unknown to you, Chessy was checking you out the entire time. When Chessy used to watch over you when your family visited the twins, she always thought you were special, an adorable kid with an eye for mischief. You remained that little girl to Chessy for so long that when she saw you again, she was shocked. It took her a little bit to stop seeing you as the 10-12 year old girl she knew all those years ago, and start seeing you as a woman. And when she started seeing you as a woman, feelings started with it.

“Alright, what game are we playing?” You said as you jumped into the pool.

“How about Marco Polo?” Hallie suggested and everyone agreed.

“Alright, who's gonna have their eyes closed first?” You ask and the twins and you look at Chessy.

She sighs and then huffs. “Fine, but y/n is next.” She says and you wink at her. She closes her eyes and counts to 10.

“8…9…10! Marco!”

“Polo!” You all say in unison. Chessy swings around and walks a little bit, trying to find and catch you guys. You then get an idea, you haven’t played a trick on her in years. You dive under the water and swim to her.

“Marco!”

“Polo!” The twins say, very interested in what you’re doing.

Chessy notices that your voice is missing and says it again. “Marco!” She says and you get to the bottom where her feet are and you tickle them and then come to the surface, giggling. “Ahh!” Chessy yells and then hears your giggling a couple seconds later. “I see someone is up to their old tricks again.” Chessy says with a smile.

“Once a trickster, always a trickster.” You say and then dive underneath the water again. You do your best to emerge silently and you're right behind her.

“Marco!”

“Polo!” You all say in unison. And Chessy jumps and then spins around and catches you. You tried to flee from being caught but were a second too late. Chessy opens her eyes with a smile and sees your pout and she laughs.

“You tried but I’ve had years of practice with a trickster kid.” She tells you and she beams at you.

It was now your turn to try and catch one of them. “8…9…10! Marco!” You shout.

“Polo!” They all say in unison. You hear Hallie being close by and you turn around and jump forward and miss her.

“Marco!”

“Polo!” They shout back and they’re all at the other end of the pool. You turn around and start walking to the other end.

“Marco!”

“Polo!” They shout and they’re all closer but not close enough. You were about to shout it again when all of a sudden, you feel hands pull your arms to your side and then have arms wrap around your waist.

“Omg!” You shout in surprise.

“You’re not the only one who can do tricks!” You hear Chessy say and you can tell she’s smiling.

You end up switching games and you each have a twin on your shoulders, trying to knock the other one off. You have Annie and Chessy has Hallie.

Nick and Elizabeth were watching from the door and they’re smiling. It was so nice watching you all play together. They know Chessy loves having you back after years apart as you two were close. They see that you’ve gotten close with Hallie as you two were trying to find things in common to bond over in the beginning. As it turns out, you and the twins all have quick wit and a sense of humour. Nick, Elizabeth and Chessy love hearing you banter with the girls as it’s often entertaining.

“You and Hallie are going down!” You tell Chessy and she laughs.

“No, it’s you and Annie who are going down.” She retorts back. It turns out that both twins fell at the exact same time and it was a tie.

That night, you write down your feelings, and it all happens to be about Chessy. How you feel about her. You think you might have had a small crush on her back when you were 12 but you weren’t sure. But now you know for sure that you’re attracted to her and have a crush on her.

You rip the piece out of the book, you were about to crinkle it up and throw it away but then decided to keep it instead. You put it in your journal and then you put the journal on your nightstand, and then you go to sleep.

The next morning, you were going to accompany Hallie to see her horse and pamper the horse with her. You walk out of the house with your journal, unknowingly dropping the piece of paper where you declared all of your feelings about Chessy on. The piece of paper fell to the ground and no one noticed until 10 minutes later when Chessy comes back into the house with Sammy and picks it up. She turns the paper over and instantly recognises your handwriting. She then sees that you wrote a poem and she can’t help but read it.

What one could say except I like you

I love everything about you

Who you are, how you look, how you act

How could one not fall for you

In your presence I feel myself wanting more

More than a friendship with you

For I know we are two women

When I’m with you, I simply don’t care

All that occupies my mind is thoughts of you

Of us holding hands in the field

Us cuddling together on the couch or in bed

Going to the market or cooking together

Or to be able to finally know

What it’s like to have your lips on mine

Chessy reads it and smiles. It was beautiful and heartfelt. She had no idea you were good with poems. She wonders who it was about and then she hears you coming back with Hallie. She folds the piece of paper and puts it in a pocket to ask you about later. Then she gets started on lunch.

“Hello girls!” She greets you both and you both smile at her. “I’m just getting started on lunch, hope you’re hungry.” She says.

“Starving.” Hallie says.

“Well how about you go get your sister and bring her over here.” Chessy says and Hallie bolts off to find her sister. You then turn your attention to your journal and notice the piece of paper missing and you look around you. “Something wrong?” Chessy asks when she turns around to face you.

“Um ya. I had a piece of paper in here and now it’s gone. Have you seen a piece of paper on the floor” You tell her. She knows exactly where it is, it’s in her pocket right now.

“Uh no. Didn’t see anything. Was it important?” She asks and you stop in your search for it.

“Oh um, not really. Well yes, important to me anyway.” You say and she smiles at you.

“Well I hope you find it.” She tells you and goes back to making lunch.

That night, Nick, Elizabeth and the twins all go upstairs to get some sleep. You and Chessy remain on the couch and you yawn.

“I should probably get some sleep too.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Can I ask you something first?” She asks and you look at her.

“Of course, you can ask me anything Chess.” You tell her and she smiles then frowns again. She reaches into her pocket and pulls your poem out.

“I found your poem.” She says as she unfolds it and shows it to you and your eyes widen. “Who’s it about?” She asks you and you snatch it from her.

“Nobody, it’s about nobody.” You say really quickly.

“Really? Cause it seems to be about a woman that you have feelings for.” She tells you and you look at the floor. “Y/n, I already knew you were into women. I figured it out when you were 12.” She tells you and you look at her confused.

“How could you have possibly known then? I was 12. I- I didn’t even know until I was 19.” You tell her.

“I recognize the signs that I saw in myself when I was that age.” She tells you with a shrug.

“Wait? What? Wait, are you…”

“Into women?” She finishes for you and you nod. “Ya, I am. I was hoping I’d be around for you so you have someone who’s like you, to talk too. While it’s more acceptable now then it was when I came out, I know it’s still frowned upon.” She tells you.

“When you came out? How old are you? You look no more than 35.” You say and she laughs.

“You think I’m only 9 years older than you?” She asks and you shrug. “Hate to break it to you but I’m 39.” She says and starts twirling your hair in her fingers. “You always had such beautiful hair.” She tells you. “So want to tell me more about that poem you wrote?” She asks and you stare at her.

“Well yes it’s about a woman. I may have feelings for someone. I wouldn’t put much thought into it if I were you. Not interesting at all. I mean it is someone you know but still not anything interesting. Just me and a crazy crush on-” and she cuts you off by putting her lips on yours. It takes a second before your brain processes that you’re not talking at the moment and you’re kissing, kissing the person the poem is about. You kiss her back and she smiles into the kiss. She pulls back a few seconds later.

“Was the poem about me?” She asks and you nod. “If I recall correctly, cause I obviously read it multiple times, you wanted to know what it's like to have my lips on yours.” She says and you nod.

“I did say that yes, and I like it.” You tell her and she hums.

“Well would you like to know what it’s like to have my lips on other places of your body?” She asks and you short circuit. You respond by kissing her again. Chessy eagerly kisses you back, wanting to kiss you for a while now but she had no idea if you were out yet. When she read the poem, it gave her hope that you figured it out and she could finally take the chance. She wasn’t blind, she knew about your feelings for her but didn’t want to do anything in case you didn’t know you were into women yet.

Chessy pulls back after a few seconds. “Is that a yes? Cause as much as I enjoy…kissing…you.” She says while giving you little pecks. “I do need a verbal confirmation.” She says and gives you another peck and you hum.

“I want to feel more than just your lips everywhere. I want to feel your lips, tongue and fingers.” You tell her and she smiles. Where did that sudden boost of confidence come from? You’ll never know. She was about to comply when a sudden thought strikes her.

“Wait, y/n. Are you a… a virgin?” She asks and you shake your head.

“I’ve already had sex with a guy. But never with a girl.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well I’m going to make it memorable for you. Just not here. Let's go to my room.” She tells you and she gets up and extends her hands to you. You take both of them and she pulls you up and to her room.

She closes the door and starts kissing you again, only this time she deepens it by putting her hands in your hair and doesn’t pull away any time soon. You put your hands on her hips and pull her body closer to yours. You move your hands to the buttons of her shirt and you start undoing them one by one until you are able to yank the shirt off of her. “You wear far too many clothes.” You tell her playfully as you see her in a tank top and pants still.

She looks at you with a soft smile and hums. “Well what are you going to do about it?” She questions and you smile then push her down onto the bed. You quickly take her pants and tank top off and look at her body in just a bra and underwear and you lick your lips. “See something you like?” She teases as she sees your reaction to her body.

“Not something but someone, with an amazing body.” You tell her and straddle her lap as she sits up to hold you.

You kiss each other again and you trail down to her neck and she moans. “Oh god! Y/n.” She moans out as you suck her neck. You unclip her bra and tear it off her and go push her down onto the bed. You then go and suck a nipple and she tries to buck her hips under you, but can’t as you’re straddling her lap.

After you're satisfied you’ve teased her nipples enough you pull back to look at her and put your hands on her boobs and massage them. “Chessy, I just love your breasts, they’re so big and perfect.” You tell her and she smiles at you. She then gets impatient as you’ve teased her quite a bit.

“If you’re done admiring them, could you shift your attention downward.” She tells you and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

“I’ll obey this time but next time you complain then I’ll make you wait longer.” You tell her.

“Already wanting to do this with me again?” She asks cheekily as you slide her underwear off.

“Of course, I’m really enjoying myself, learning about what you like and what sounds I can get out of you.” You say and spread her legs. You climb on top of her and settle yourself on a leg then lean forward so you can kiss her lips. At the same time as you kiss her, you slide a finger inside her and it goes in easily. “Wow, you’re really turned on, it just slipped right in there.” You tell her and then add another one and she gasps out. You then begin pumping in and out of her and she’s moaning and gasping underneath you.

“Oh god! Y/n, I’m so close.” She almost yells and you go to kiss her again so she doesn’t wake anyone up, much less your sister. She then comes a few seconds later and she gasps into the kiss. You pull out of her and then just stay there until she’s ok with you to move.

“Sit on my face.” She tells you and you look at her.

“What?” You ask as she said it quietly.

“Sit on my face, I want to eat you out but I don’t think I can move. You really know how to finger a girl.” She tells you and you smile.

“I still have all my clothes on though so give me a minute.” You say and before you move, she takes your top off and unclips your bra before it goes flying off. She then quickly unbuttons your jeans then she pulls them down as well as your underwear, you then take them off the rest of the way.

“Wow, you really are beautiful.” She tells you and you blush.

“Thank you.” You tell her and then you climb up to her face. “Wait shouldn’t we do this near the headboard in case I have to -” At that moment she pulls you down to her mouth and immediately starts licking you and you get cut off. At one point you fell forward and you stayed leaning on your hands the rest of the time. “Oh god, Chessy. I’m close.” You tell her, trying to stay quiet. When you do come, you accidentally gasp out a bit loud and you hope you didn’t wake anyone up. You take a minute to catch your breath before you get off of her and flop down on the bed.

Chessy goes to clean herself up and when she comes out, you ambush her and pin her to the wall. You get her worked up again and she then just noticed you’re wearing a strap. You then slide it into her and you cover her mouth with your hand when she begins to gasp loudly. You start pumping in and out of her when it’s all the way in and then you go faster and faster. Chessy wants you to go faster when you’re already going as fast as you can in this position. So you pull out of her and bring her to the bed quickly and she gets on her hands and knees so you can pound into her from behind.

She ends up grabbing a pillow so she can muffle her sounds when she’s close. She gasps into the pillow when she comes and you come right after as the strap was rubbing your clit. You pull out of her and take the strap off and you both catch your breath.

“You couldn’t have done that before I cleaned myself up.” She tells you while trying to catch her breath.

“Are you complaining?” You ask her and she giggles.

“Only because I have to clean myself up again.” She tells you and you go to get a cloth for the both of you.

The next morning, she’s making breakfast for everyone when you come up and hug her from behind. She leans into your touch and you begin planting kisses on her neck and she giggles. She turns the stove off then places a hand in your hair as you continue to kiss her neck. You then hear someone clear their throat and you pull away from each other quickly and see everyone standing there.

“Oh, hi guys.” You say and Chessy is too nervous to speak. The twins then go to the table as Chessy begins putting breakfast on plates and Nick and Elizabeth walk over to you both. Elizabeth speaks low enough so the twins won’t hear.

“While I’m happy for you guys, I didn’t want to find out from the noises last night.” She tells you and both your cheeks go red.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

Let me know if you want to be added!

[dao-the-starlight]

It’s Touchstarved MC time baby >:)))

…kinda, sorta, they don’t have a design yet, so don’t count this as a proper intro!!! I just want to make their existence known and spit out some ideas I had for them

First things first! Their name is Mykhail, Mykhail what? I don’t know! They don’t really have a last name. Their pronouns are They/He, though they ultimately don’t mind any

Their backstory is The Unnamed since that’s my favourite one of the three (*slap* I can fit so much religious trauma into this baby), though I do think I’m sort of gonna be loosey goosey with the backstory and add/take away some details that may not line up perfectly with the canon backstory

As for their romance route I’m probably going to stick them with Kuras, since he’s the first li I had interest in and also the reason I first played the game, bro is majestic and captivating what can I say

Anyways onto the fun stuff!! So, because Mykhail has The Unnamed backstory they have the add on ability that they get intense supernatural premonitions here and there. Now whether the premonitions are whole prophetic visions or are just Mykhail getting the supernatural heebie-jeebies I don’t know. But regardless! I thought it would be a really neat visual that whenever they get one of these premonitions it violently spills out of them, literally.

I don’t know how to describe it but a really good example of what I mean is Hikaru’s “insides” from the manga The Summer Hikaru Died (which you should go read btw if you haven’t)

So like this:

The more intense the premonition, the more spills out. It’s a very painful process

Lastly!! Because I couldn’t help myself I added just one more supernatural bit of lore to Mykhail. One motif of his character that I think would be fun to mess around with is that of Mirrors/Reflections! This is because as an extra bit of the Mykhail lore they have an entity stuck to them, that entity being their very own reflection. So Mykhail’s reflection is essentially its own sentient being that resides in any reflective surface Mykhail comes across. It doesn’t have a proper name yet, right now I just call it id because that’s essentially what it is to Mykhail (it’s a psychology thing, id is essentially meant to be a human’s “base instincts/desires”). The mirror entity is also a being created by Mykhail themselves, to summarize it quickly Mykhail basically manifested the entity on accident through their own belief in its existence (so it’s basically a Tulpa)

And that’s basically it! I’m still piecing certain parts of Mykhail’s story together which is a little tricky considering I don’t know any of the Touchstarved world lore cause of how late I joined the fandom, but this is what I have so far!! Again this post was mostly just to jot down the details I already had for Mykhail and make him publicly known, thanks for reading and have an enchanted day!!

[lotte22324]

Hi, this is my first Oneshot ever and I am kinda nervous for yall to see it. This idea randomly popped into my head, I don’t know why.

Also, English is not my first language, so please ignore the mistakes.

Warnings: mentioning of the case and connected SA (but only in the beginning)

Summary: You are a profiler at the BAU. You specialise in linguistic analysis and also in having a pretty cutsie style. You and Spencer are both working late on a case and his stupid long hair annoys him but you luckily got some hairclips with you :)

(These are the bows that I am talking about btw)

You and the team were on the way to Cleveland, attending to a particularly disturbing case. Multiple mutilated victims were found, all indicated signs of sexual assault, post mortem. All of them were women but none of them looked alike. The only thing that they had in common were the position in which they were found. They all were layed down carefully with their arms crossed above their chest.

"The arms are a sign of remorse right?“

"Yeah, it’s clear that the killer has a conflicted conscience in the connection to the murders.“ said Reid. You turned your head to the right side to see your fellow profiler. His hair was long, longer than ever before, he was wearing a purple dress shirt with s simple tie. His converse were matching to yours, the only thing in common with your wardrobe. You were wearing a skyblue blouse with a dark blue pair of pants. The outfit was professional, the hair not so much. You wore two hairclips in the front of your hair because they would often fall in front of your face which annoyed you. The clips had two pink bows attached to them and they matched your pink earrings and nails.

"If the unsub feels guilty about the murders, we might be able to convince him to give himself up“ remarked JJ. Emily looked at her skeptical and held up the letter that the unsub left at the last crime scene, one of six: She will never stop, only I can fix it! "This says otherwise“

"It is weird that he shows signs of remorse but he also seems extremely certain of his resason to murder, what does he need to fix?“ asked Reid while he knitted his eyebrows together, like he always did when he was thinking. It looked too cute, you couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on your face. "Linguistically, it’s clear that the "she“ that he speaks of is one specific person, probably some sort of authority figure for him, probably a mother“ you remarked. Hotchner nodded his head, a plan already in mind. "Y/l/n you will do a linguistic profile, try to find a pattern or identification marks in all of the letters. Reid, look at the geographical pattern, the locations where the bodies were found might give us a clue where the unsub lives. Morgan and Rossi, you two go to the last crime scene, Emily, you and I will interview the families. Lets catch this guy!“

„I guess your stuck with me at the precinct, pretty boy!“ you said playfully to Reid but all he did was blush and turn his head awkwardly to the side. Morgan shoot him a knowing look but you didn’t think about it too much.

Later that evening, you and Reid were the only ones left in the room designated for your investigation. A hot cup of coffee was standing in front of you, you knew you were in for a long nighty You had been looking at these letters for hours on end, trying to find identifying markers. The only thing that became apparent is that the letters and the murders are definitely about the unsubs mother. They were all about 60, the letters showed clear signs of conflicted hatred and love toward the mother and connected abuse. Maybe she hit him or she was just a very dominant personality who commanded all the men in her life and broke their will if she needed to. Reid was also standing in front of his map for the last few hours, rearranging the pins and drawing new circles and xes on it. Looking over, you did not see a clear pattern at all but maybe his genius brain could make sense of all of the colors on the board. Your eyes shifted from the map to him and the way he kept adjusting his hair. He wanted to tuck it behind his ears but it fell into his face again and again. "Ugh, why? Maybe I need to cut my hair again“ he mumbled annoyed. "Nooo, please don’t! I like your hair like this“ you answered quickly. "But its always in my face and whenever I tuck it back, it falls in front of it again“ Reid remarked, pushing his hair back aggressively. But all it did was fall back infront of his ear and Reid let out an annoyed groan. You stood up and moved towards the man: "here, take one of my clips! My hair is long enough so that I can easily tuck it behind my ear“ you said, quickly taking one of the bows out of your hair. As you kept going, the clip in your hand, he looked at you skeptical: "thank you, y/n but I don’t think that would suit me as much as it suits you“

You blushed involuntarily at that indirect compliment, "oh come on, no one is here anymore, you won’t be less of a man if you wear this pink bow in your hair!“ you rolled your eyes as you halted infront of him with a questioning look. „Okay, fine“ he hesitantly answered and you gave him a reassuring smile. You leaned forward, pushing his hair back as you clip in the pink bow. You felt how soft his hair was. As you let your hand trail down his head, you let it linger a bit too long. Just as Spencer cleared his throat, you realized that and let your hand fall quickly to your side. "All done, you look cute“ you blushed as you took a step back. But your blush didn’t compare to his. The minute he saw himself in the reflection of the glass board where he drew his map on, his face turned as red as a tomato. The pink bow clearly on display, matching to yours. Now not only your shoes were matching but also your hair. "Uh, thank you y/n“ he said after a while. But you didn’t even realize what he said because all you could do was stare at him. He had never looked this cute in his life. Not with his glasses, not with any of his haircuts. You felt a fluttering feeling in your tummy. Here he was, Spencer Reid, wearing your pink bow in his hair. You couldn’t believe the sight you were witnessing. Even though you didn’t have an eidetic memory, you would never forget this. As you kept starring at his face, your brain filling with all the accessories of yours Reid could wear, he kept staring right back. But instead of thinking about all the different hair clips you had, he couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you looked. The slight blush that spread over your face, the blown pupils as they were looking at him. The way your mouth was slightly opened, the curve of your lips perfectly kissable.

"Yo, I forgot my-" Morgan stepped insight, both of you taking a step back, not realizing in the moment how close you two were standing and looking embarrassed towards Morgan. "Uhm, sorry for…disturbing, I just forgot my wallet here“ he said, moving toward the table. Your eyes shifted, there it was, lying underneath all the letters you had just looked at. "Alright, have a good night you two! Pretty bow, Reid, your lil girlfriend should lend you her things more often“ Morgan winked as he walked out of the room. Both of you stood there in silence, looking down onto the floor. Spencer raised his hand in embarrassment and tried to detangle the bow from his hair. "Noo, you look so pretty with it Spencer, you shouldn’t give a damn about Morgans opinion!“ you reassured him. He gave you a smile as his hand slowly fell down. "You know that is not fair“ Reid remarked. "What isn’t fair?" You looked confused. "Well, I would wear anything as long as you think i‘m pretty even if that would be the most impractical thing on this planet.“

"That can’t be true!“ you laughed.

"Do you remember four months ago when we saw that shampoo ad on some billboard in Texas with a man on it with long, shiny hair?“

Honest to god, you really didn’t. "Uhm, not really…“

"Well, you said that you love men with long hair and it seemed like you looked right at me. I, obviously had short hair at that time. But from that moment on, I decided to let my hair grow longer“ Spencer confessed.

"You grew your hair long because of me? Because I said that I find men with long hair prettier? That makes no sense, why would you care what I think about y-" then it hit you. He wanted you to find him attractive. He wanted you to see him as pretty. You took a step towards him, his gaze avoiding you, he seemed more focused on his shoes than on you. "Reid" you said quietly, him still not looking at you. "Spencer, if you don’t look up now, I’ll leave and you’ll never find out what I’m thinking about right now“ you threaten, his gaze hastily rising. You took another step towards him, this time a bit less sure than before. It seemed like time froze as you slowly raised your hand towards Reids face. "May I touch you?" You asked hesitantly, knowing that he wasn’t the biggest fan of non-consensual physical touch. He nodded his head and finally met your gaze. His eyes shifted up and down, between your eyes and lips. As you cupped his cheek, it seemed like the spell on him was broken. His face inched closer and closer until his lips met yours. The tension that you felt for the last few months finally found an escape and both of you seemed to feel relieved. His hands found your waist, as he pulled you closer to his body, your other hand tangling itself up in his hair. After a few moments both of you had to pull away to gasp for air. Smiles crept up on both of your faces as you realized what had just happened. He didn’t let your waist go, you didn’t want him to do that anyway. "You know what, Reid?" You asked humorously.

"What?" He asked back.

"I wanted to do that even before you let your hair grow out“ you answered him truthfully. Ever since you joined the team, you wanted to kiss him. It didn’t matter what his hair looked like or if he wore his glasses or not.

"You’re joking right? All of this agony for nothing then?“ he asked dumbfounded, pointing at his long hair.

"Oh no, definitely not for nothing! I got to see you wearing my pink bow and that is a sight, that I will never forget!“ you giggled and pulled him into a hug that he happily reciprocated.

P.S.: I hope you guys liked this, it is kinda strange to always read fanfic and now actually writing it. I guess my Spencer Reid obsession made me do it :) yall will probably understand, hahahaha.

[live-laugh-legolas]

You know those paint-your-own-pottery shops? What do you think the members of the fellowship would pick out, and how would they decorate them? For some reason I have the mental image of Gimli painstakingly detailing kitchenware, while across the table Legolas is using Every Single Paint Color

(I know my experiences are not universal so here’s a link to some things they usually offer)

https://www.thepotterypiazza.net/shop-paint-at-home-pottery-selections

I love these places! Kids always had birthday parties at these and I still have all the things I painted. Btw I wanted to include pictures but I couldn’t find photos that matched what I imagined or that weren’t just professionally made

Pottery Painting

Aragorn:

-He finds it therapeutic

-But also a little silly

-That being said he’s annoyingly good despite being kinda nonchalant

-Doesn’t look professional or anything but it is very pretty

-Definitely would make something with Arwen

Legolas:

-He definitely has a lot of fun with it

-Chaotic energy

-Wants every color, glaze, and chooses the weirdest option to paint

-He isn’t messy though; doesn’t get a spot of paint on himself or on the table

-Would be the type to have had a birthday party there once

Gimli:

-You are totally right that he is very meticulous about it

-Very light handed

-The smallest details and it’s always so nice

-His pieces always turn out looking professionally made

-Will be there for hours perfecting his craft

-Very proud

Boromir:

-He tries

-It’s not the best but also it’s not horrific

-Probably does basically the same thing every time he goes

-Maybe paints the Gondor tree?

-Spends the time reminiscing about childhood

Frodo:

-He would rather be making the pot itself than painting it tbh

-But he does find it fun to paint them if the others are with him

-He always paints a mug

-He has so many mugs

-No glassware in his cabinet; just mugs

Sam:

-Always makes his things a gift

-So whatever design he does is catered to whoever it is for

-But flowers are his go to

-It looks kinda like a kid made it but that’s what makes it special

-He definitely overthinks it and spends so long fretting before even putting a brush to the pottery

Merry:

-Honestly I don’t know if he would be that into it

-I think he would either get bored or become super hyper focused and make very elaborate abstract patterns

-But probably likes to do techniques like dipping, splatter, or tape

-Always uses the most expensive quality paint and finish

Pippin:

-Very…artistic?

-Does “trick shots” with paint splatter; like over the head, spin jumping

-This gets very messy and possibly gets him kicked out

-He gets bored after a while though and just starts talking and forgets what he’s supposed to be doing

-Tries to “help” others

-No one likes his non consensual contributions; however Boromir and Frodo don’t really mind

Gandalf:

-Always picks the smallest thing to paint

-I imagine a tiny turtle or something

-It’s usually a trinket or statue of some sort

-He tries to get into painting it mainly to drown out the chaos of some of the others

[ruthytwoshakes]

Howdy everyone!! I got super inspired by @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense class swap au and wanted to try my hand at it!

I really love these designs!! If people like them too I’ll make some full refs and make some more content with them. I probably will anyway because I have so many ideas.

Under the keep reading I added wayyy too much description if you’re interested. You are interested you will read I’m using my evil mind magic to make you want to read

(I’ll address them by their names to make it less confusing btw. Pyro and Spy are called Demonan and Soldier though. I’ll name them one day probably)

For Medic and Heavy I kinda swapped their backstories and personalities. Misha is an only child who comes from a family of, fucked up to say the least, doctors. He lost his medical license for stealing the entirety of a patient’s skin. Misha is much more of a hardass with a superiority complex. Cold and callous. He takes himself and his work very seriously,, thinks he is very scary. The other mercs don’t really give a shit, which infuriates him to no end. He cares about his teammates! somewhere deep down inside ,, like really far down. Probably. Really attached to his tools, names them like how the original Heavy names his guns. He’s pretty fluent with English.

Ludwig is much more silly and caring. He’s the youngest sibling out of his 3 sisters, and took this job because he feels obligated to pay back his family for protecting him and helping him go through college. He’s not sadistic per se, more just, really loves the blood, guts, and carnage of war, and has a very morbid curiosity. He often accompanies the Medic when he's doing operations, if he's not already the patient himself. Misha adores how fascinated he is by all of it, and gladly answers and questions he may have. Very loud and extroverted,, his laughs can be heard from miles away. He kinda scares the other mercs, but he’s trying his best to tone it down. He has a horde of pigeons that just ,, follow him around. He doesn’t really know where they came from. His favorite is named Euripides. He’s intermediate at English.

For Sniper and Scout I kinda kept their backstories the same, they just had different personalities and life circumstances that led to them taking their respective jobs. Jeremy is the older brother of 7 little sisters. His mother had him when she was 16 and going through college, leading Jeremy to have to grow up fast. He and his mom have always had to pick up odd jobs to help pay the bills. One of Jeremy’s bosses took him out onto a shooting range one day and noticed he was a natural. He encouraged him to take up predator/invasive species control to help pay the bills and helped him get started, Jeremy eventually saved up enough to move to the northwest. As he got more skilled, some shady people took note and offered him some more,,, lucrative opportunities. He’s a hick with a slight Boston accent, making him all the more awkward. Pretty introverted, the only friends he's ever had is his little siblings. He’s quick-witted when he wants to be, but usually stays quiet. He seems pretty cold tough, but will change really quickly around little kids. Drinks way too many energy drinks to compensate for his insomnia.

Mick is an only child and basically the Australian version of Scout. Which is a terrifying concept!! he scares me. He’s a pretty extroverted guy, but was still bullied for his scrawny appearance and a lack of mustache hairs when he was little, so he devoted himself to becoming the best track runner in Australia. Also he couldn’t win a fight against anyone and he tended to piss off a lot of people, so running was a necessity. He doesn’t have any siblings, but he has a lot of older friends who treat him like a little brother. He likes to paint in his free time. Took the job to help support his parents and to explore the world, or just New Mexico. Annoying jock bastard. He wears those tank tops with the holes at the sides that just go all the way down,, not even a shirt at that point. Still throws piss at people because I think its really fucking funny.

Nobody quite knows where Soldier came from, not even herself. All she knows is that she’s a General, and a damn good one at that. Although his team would like to suggest otherwise. She’s loud and erratic, missing quite a few cogs in her brain. Not lead poisoned like the original soldier, I’m leaning towards a lobotomy that really melted his brain, soupe de cerveau or somethinf. Even though she lost her mind, she kept her great commanding skills and leads the team in attacks. He can be found planning and strategizing for the next round, or hanging out with the other team’s Demo. A bit silly, a bit goofy. Comically patriotic like the original Soldier. Parleys-tu Français, DO YOU SPEAK FRRRENCH ??? Non tu ne le fais pas, you don’t? FUCK YOU

Tavish and pyros personalities are a kinda combined? I just took little bits from both of them and squashed them together. Tavish is a pyromaniac hailing from Scotland. There’s rumors that he was the cause of the fire storm that rained down on Scotland for about a week, but he’s never confirmed or denied this. His voice isn’t all that muffled, his Scottish dialect is just so thick that nobody can understand him, except for Ms Pauling and Engineer like usual. Tavish can be pretty unstable and hyperactive, but an overall happy-go-lucky guy. Drinks responsibly most of the time! Still depressed! Lots of Molotov cocktails. His favorite animal is the Pegasus, and his life's goal is to find and tame one some day.

Dell is the same personality wise, just more like spy. So a bit more stuck up lol. He also shares the same care that the original spy shows for his team, as long as it benefits him along the way. Dell comes from a long family line of Spy’s that all worked for the Mann brothers, they stole Australium for them and kept them safe from other entity's that wanted to have control over the Australium too. His goggles have all that super cool spy stuff in them, night vision, cameras, a radio. Jane helped him add some new features as of late, . I'm not sure how to incorporate Dell's fascination with trans-humanism into this Dell quite yet. Maybe something to do with his senses? Name’s Spy. Spy Gaming.

Jane is pretty much the same silly little guy,, but now with 11 phds! And he’s not lead poisoned anymore! Nobody’s quite sure where Jane comes from, every time he’s asked he always changes up his backstory. He tends to slack off more than the original soldier, "A good hard-working American always knows when to take breaks!" He's also built a variety of raccoon-themed machines that get into mischief around the base. He and the Pyro are good buddies! He likes reading their stories, and gently encouraging them to write more. He's pretty strict when it comes to safety, and will come down hard on his teammates for messing around. THAT IS NOT OSHA APPROVED HEAD-WEAR MAGGOT!

Demoman is more like Tavish backstory-wise in this. They’re a midwesterner with way too much free time who blew up their family’s corn field by accident when they were little, oh and their parents. Their bio family crawled out from the remains of the farm and took them in after they proved themselves, even with their lack of tentacles and wings. (yeah their parents are the Great Old Ones, cthulhu guys, for sillies :3 ) They still like to do creative stuff (but adult-ified because adults are insecure about having fun for some reason.) like adult coloring books, or oil painting, or having adult tea parties. Demoland is a book that they're writing, and will TOTALLY 100% work on this weekend. They hate eye contact and have never been seen without their bombsuit on, except for Scout, but he can comprehend these otherworldy horrors perfectly fine so idk maybe you have a skill issue or something.

Heavy is Medic

Medic is Heavy

Sniper is Scout

Scout is Sniper

Spy is Soldier

Demoman is Pyro

Engineer is Spy

Soldier is Engineer

Pyro is Demoman

notes: I was thinking of making Dell Jeremy's father, but I didn't want to change up Jeremy's facial features too much, so Spy remains. Mick has that neck-mic thingy that soap from COD has because I was scrolling through soapghost on pintrest help. Soldier wasn't actually a general, I was thinking he was just somebody who knew too much. But after she got the lobotomy, I'm thinking she did something similar to soldier and tried to get into the military, and failed. Ludwig is the biggest on the team, with Misha having a more agile body type. Still a bear!! Just a bit smaller. This art is a bit old because I've been working on this since MAY?!?!??? ough. Maybe I'll swap some side characters as well! Pauling with Bidwell, Saxton with Helen, if ya want you could give me some suggestions 👁 👁 This is all Merasmus's fault some how, babygirl messes up the timeline for the sillies, the funny haha even. I love her <3333 Also sorry if the info for Jeremy is incorrect, I just thought it would be neat idk a whole lot about hunting.

[husbandohunter]

YOOO hello!! first of all, I hope you are doing well Nya ^^ remember to take care of yourself, stay healthy, and drink lots of water, mkay? good good :) (ur writing is astounding btw i love it sm)

second, may i request a childe angsty (not much tho, just missing him- does that count as angst lmao) + fluffy scenario (or the uh dot hcs thing?? with lil scenario after it?? idk how to call it 💀 but yeah you can choose :D) with a timid, reserved s/o? like... you're feeling a bit down and miss him, waiting for him to return- and when he does, you just- dash into his arms, while he sits there paralyzed, since you don't generally initiate the affection. too shy to do so- however when u do he softens at ur cuteness,, (regretting your decision afterwards cause he makes you blush while praising you- way too easily- and he admires you more while u bashfully avoid his gaze-)

and while cuddling he asks as to why you did that, if something occurred... noticing you were sniffling instead of talking, he halted to take a look at your face, freezing once he saw your profile, crystal clear tears painting it. wiping them away, he cupped your cheeks with his greater hands and before he could utter another word, you answered him, his worried expression transforming into a surprised one unimaginably fast.

"I just... love you so much Ajax. I love you..."

repeating that over and over while delicately holding his hands close to you, a soft smile decorating your lips as you leaned into his palms. and he just. smiles too completely melting-

aand that's all i can think of-- i hope that gave you enough fuel to think of the scene hh- obv take your time with it pls don't feel rushed okay? ik you're busy and have many requests already hh ^^ take a break if you must! farewell!!

Sweetness [Childe x Reader]

Synopsis: Childe can expect all kinds of ambushes but not the one that attacks him in the heart!

Genre: gender neutral reader, mild angst to fluffy fluff

(A/n): First off you’re so sweet anon. I don’t mean to take this long but I do think about the blog and you guys every once in a while. I hope this was to your liking, though got self-indulgent with the last part xD Childe is either badass or an absolute clown🤡 there’s no in between

============================

• Childe had been sent away on a mission in Snezhnaya two months ago. He wrote letters to you in his absence. Until the weekly letters became nonexistent. It was due to the fact been busy over the course.

• But you didn't know that. Demands of being the 11th Harbinger had made things difficult for him to even sit down and relax.

• And when he finally got the chance to pick up his inkset, the man falters yet again over another crumpled sheet tossed into the waste basket.

• How on Teyvat should he begin after weeks going cold? Since when was the last time the two of you properly talked? Were you so furious that you didn't write back?

He felt as if he was being physically beaten by these incessant questions, plagued by scenarios that don't exist.

Childe blankly stares at the ceiling of his hotel suite. It was deathly quiet. The candle burns alight, confined in the glassjar designed by Snezhnayan antiques, and he swore he could even hear wax dripping down the sides.

The Harbinger slaps a hand over his face and groans, "Haaaa, I can't believe I'm actually losing my mind over this."

Hopefully no one sees him in his current state. Their Fatui leader fussing with love letters akin to a teenage boy's first crush. Earlier the evening Childe announced to his assistant that no one shall disturb him while he is issuing an important message to overseas, otherwise they meet a harsh punishment under his command. That was an excuse. A very silly excuse. There was no diplomacy to be made overseas, just one man missing his lover.

The picture of your most recent expression shows up and Childe meticulously carves it out of his imagination. While you were not the type to be vocal about your affections, reserved and somewhat aloof, somehow that itself was a charm of yours. Perhaps he likes a good challenge, perhaps the spark between you two ignited when he kissed you on a fluke. And when you couldn't form the words to your clouded thoughts, actions alone were more than enough for the man to be satisfied.

"Let's see where this goes, yeah?"

Then one meeting turns to another, three dates turn to four, and before he knew it, Childe has been looking forward to spending time with you ever since. A part of him waiting for answers yet to be said. Do you like him the way he likes you? Even though everything he does appears to be whimsical and reckless? This long distance makes him think they were almost not real drives him mad.

What if you were seeing someone else?

A pause, the information too great for him to process. Childe spasms in his seat and slaps both palms flat on the surface table, sounds resonating through the room, enough for his assistant outside to hear.

Nah, who am I kidding? The man waves off the idea like an impractical joke. There's just no way. Sure you were attractive and alluring with mystique, Childe is certain that he had no competition. After all he was a Fatui Harbinger for Archon's sake. Crafty, handsome, strong with a good sense of humor, he's your ideal man. No one's got a shot at this other than him.

Except all those statements existed only in his head.

How the hell should he know what you're thinking about?! The man rests his face on a propped up palm, tapping the desk with the other as he thought deeply. No, a love letter won't work anymore. He needs a new way, preferably something enough to encapsulate his charms as he sweeps you off your feet and makes your heart race at the idea of him. He needs a strategy.

Should I invite them for a fancy dinner?

Childe has already done that a few times, something fresh would be more preferable. Oh, he could pull off the classy tactic of buying a bouquet of flowers and surprising you with it. But that's so cliche. Ugh, he cringes, what if you think he's lame?!

The assistant guarding outside knocks on the door, "Sir, is everything alright?"

"Yes," Childe replies back, rather annoyed, "I thought I told you not to bother me."

"M-My apologies," he hears the assistant scurry away in quick steps.

Finally, some peace. The Harbinger checks the time. It was half past sunset. All the soldiers should be assigned to their pre-booked rooms since was going to be their last departure.

"Fuck...." Childe breathly mutters. This is taking longer than it should. He already had you guessing over his actions, for a month in fact. At this rate, he'd have to show up without a pre-warning explanation of why he wasn't answering your calls.

The snowstorm outside ceases to relent like a reflection of his own. What he feels right now, what he's doing, the Harbinger knows well enough this wasn't some fluke. Childe sinks into his arms and looks at the flickering candle, focusing on it's small flame, wondering, if you're thinking of him the same way.

• Sitting by the windowsill, watching the view that leads to your front yard, visualizing a cheerful man with ginger hair and waving from the trees.

• Ajax. You missed him but wasn't sure how to say it. Papers and envelopes were tucked away in a corner where you could easily reach, savored and impatient for his return.

• They were mostly filled with stories about his homeland, places that he wanted to take you, and sometimes mentioning how his work got the better of him. You figured his silence must be the fact he was busy. At least, that's what you convinced yourself to believe.

• What could he be doing right now?

Ajax's name hasn't appeared in your mailbox for quite a while.

The splash of water runs when you release the tap, absentmindedly scrubbing away remains of leftovers and takeout from last night's dish. Two months ago he appeared at your doorstep in his usual brazen entrance. And it was the same day he had to announce his departure.

"Borsche," you said with a smile. Ajax mentioned how he'd personally bring ingredients from Snezhnaya, bringing as in sneaking, so you could be his first ever foreign taste tester. Of course you'd like anything he'd cook regardless, but he was joyful talking about his family from home that you wanted to explore a little more of this new side of his.

You thought you wouldn't mind the long distance communication, however, it seems you've severely overestimated yourself. After the final meal at your house, Ajax walks towards the exit, the both of you knowing how agonizingly slow it was. You recall looking at him in that deep ocean gaze, trying to say what wanted to be said. Him waiting with anticipation.

"Good luck with your mission!"

• What a mistake, that was the perfect chance and you just couldn't muster up the courage to tell him. You know he was expecting something, you know he's been patient with you, and you're tired of guessing.

• There were days where a part of you doubts if he still feels the same. Days when you felt that all of this might be one sided and you were just another fling in his eyes. Days when you think he actually wouldn't return.

• Eventually, you couldn't help but truly believe he left you for someone else, finally fed up with you beating around the bush.

Despite all the obvious signs from Ajax's lack of communication, you wanted to try one last time.

Yesterday was the day he said he would be coming back to Liyue. The sky looked as if it were about to rain any moment. People crowded under the nearest roof they could find. Their bustling noise drowned out to mere background noise as you stayed, keeping an eye out for that cheerful man of yours all the way till the last ship parked beside the Harbor. 

It was empty. By the time the other families went home with their loved ones, you stood there alone, holding a single umbrella.

"Excuse me!"

No news or a forewarning. You had no idea what must have happened. Regardless, you wanted to try again.

Running across the pavement, you tried to catch up with the sailor keeping watch of the seas, "I want to ask if you've seen a tall man with orange hair leave just now?"

He takes out the cigarette chewed between his teeth and takes his time to answer, "Ah you're the person from yesterday," the sailor comments, "Sorry kiddo, but the merchant shipments will be the only ones dropping by this hour."

Your stomach makes an uncomfortable churn as your heart denies what must be accepted, "Ah, I guess that makes sense."

There was no point in being optimistic about it anymore. The seldom appearance of letters, the disappointment evident on his face when you didn't tell him what he wanted to hear, the chilliness of the rain when it hits your skin, hand trembling by the obvious cold. Everything was so much clearer.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you quickly added while wiping your eyes, unable to contain your sadness, "I'm just missing someone. That's all."

The sailor spares you a look of pity, assuming what story it went on with the clues you gave him. He mutters words of consolation but it felt deaf to your ears.

Why couldn't you just say it? Why did you have to be such a coward in the end when all he was trying to do was making this relationship work? Biting your lip, you kept your eyes casted down to not be blinded by the sun, otherwise you might actually cry. You should've known better to not hold back. And now, he's gone forever.

"Hey."

• Childe watches you turn over your shoulder, hesitant as ever and time seems to have halted in the small pocket of this instance.

• Damn.

• You were as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Though of course nothing about your appearance changed at all. Only his feelings, they grew and more apparent during the days he wasn't by your side.

• Yeah, I'm way over the crush phase, aren't I? He could only imagine what kind of expression he was making.

Tension fills the gap between the two of you as neither made an initiative to close it. Childe examines you, unreadable and without his default grin. Your eyes blown wide under the deep furrow of your eyebrows, mouth turned downward.

Welp he deserved the silent treatment. What nerve does the guy have when he shows up to his lover empty handed and a day behind his promised schedule? Minus all the Fatui fiasco he had to deal back in Snezhnaya and no explanation whatsoever.

"So uuuhhh," Childe glances at you tentatively. Ah shit they're mad probably. He was unsure how te begin. It was almost as if you were strangers and that pained him a little, "So how have you been?"

Slap. He mentally facepalms. That was so stupid.

Well fix it you idiot! A million suggestions run simultaneously that reduces his brain into a pile of mush. He had it all planned out earlier, the flowers, the dinner, the play to sweap you off your feet and make you fall for him again. Seems that his reliable swagger had betrayed him entirely. No fancy entrance. No funny remarks to distract the awkwardness. Right now he was just Childe the lovesick man.

"Look, I know I haven't replied to you," Childe rubs the back of his neck and avoids eye contact, "And I understand if you're pissed about it. We went through a lot back in Snezhnaya which is why don't have any ingredients I promised," he pinches the bridge of his nose, "Ah, I guess I should probably apologize for that too."

This isn't going well. He knew he was trying way too hard to play it cool and most likely makes him look as if here were creating excuses. Screw it, just go straight for the heart, "What I'm trying to say is-"

You threw yourself around him in an instant and buried your face in his chest. Childe nearly stumbles backward, completely off guard for once. He can instinctively expect and attack but not this kind of attack.

Almost gave him a heart attack.

"[Name]...?" He finally whispers out, his sleeve covered arms crawling to return your embrace. The man was trying to feel, to make sure if this was real. Did you just...hug him?

"Ajax."

Then it occured to him that your voice was breaking. The tightening of your hold and the point of your nose against him, he could sense the faint quivering of your shoulders. Childe surrenders all intentions to fulfill his previous agenda as the matters in front of him were much more important.

"Hey, what's on your mind?" he gently hushes, cradling your head with one hand and the other on your back, "I'm listening."

Yes, that's what you needed right now and he'll gladly give it to you, as much as you want. If you allow him that is. Childe knows he can be a bit selfish sometimes and maybe he's jumping to conclusions, but holding you like this is a moment he wants to indulge in. Just cherishing you like he should have.

"I just..." you began, breathly, "love you so much, Ajax. I love you..."

Damn.

Childe is sure he just felt what it's like to float on cloud nine. As cheesy as it sounded. He's somewhat glad your face is buried in his coat right now so you wouldn't be able to witness the goofy smile he's shamelessly wearing. Looks like he had nothing to worry about. Man, did it feel good to know you felt the same way all this time.

He releases you, though not enough to be fully apart because why would he? Your nose was tinged with red and eyes watery, the man swore his heart must have been hit with a pyro reaction. What a cutie pie.

"I've got you, don't worry," he reassures while cupping your face. He leans down to peck the corner of your lips before properly placing a chaste one. The action was so sudden that you weren't mentally prepared for it. He laughs, the same boyish charming manner, "Sorry, couldn't help it. You're too irresistable."

"Y-You're," shades of crimson layers across your cheeks that he's glad he has the privilege for a closeup, "Irresistable..."

Hooooooolddd up.

Childe pulls to a mental stop for a double take. Was that a compliment just now? No, it was a confession. He wasn't used to being praised like this. You may not be the type to vocally speak your true feelings but you were also the type to wear them on your sleeves. A smug smile makes it's way to his face and he tilts his body ever so slightly so you were dipped backwards in a mid-tango pose.

Childe's mouth was mere inches away from yours as he drinks up the image of your vulnerable look, underneath him and no one else to intrude.

"Ajax?!" You stuttered.

"I don't think I heard you clearly. Mind saying that again?" Yes he was being indulgent right now but the opportunity was hard to come by. Also those two months made it so agonizing to bear he needs a remedy to soothe all that drama.

You're pouting now and Childe tips down to kiss you on the cheek, "Don't tease me. Not here in public," you whisper-yelled well trying to push him away similar to a smothering puppy.

"Oh? Now you're going to reject me? I thought you said I was irresistable?" Childe's words muffles against your skin and the vibration spreads across like wildfire.

"Ajax!"

"Fine, fine," he chuckles heartedly, not letting you go. Instead, he repositions his arm until it was swung around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side, "By the way I wanted to say that I shouldn't have left you hanging. The mission got real messy last minute and I didn't wanna half-ass a letter to you."

You shook your head, "It's not your fault. I know you were busy. Just that..." you breathed out, somewhat relieved and anxious at the same time, "I thought you were angry that I wasn't being honest with you. I was afraid for some reason. But now, it's a lot easier than I thought."

"Huh? What do you mean?" He asks.

"I thought you left me for someone else."

A moment where his brain short circuits and Childe lets out a howling laugh. You looked at him with awe. What was so funny all of a sudden?

"Gotta say that I'm being tossed left and right with these surprises," he mused, "Guess that even if we're apart, we're still that close, eh?"

You quirked an eyebrow at him, "What do you mean?"

Childe slides his hand up your shoulder bone to pinch your cheek, "Nothing, sweetness."

• You chased after him demanding for answers but Childe doesn't budge. The only thing you could tell that he was in an extremely good mood after that.

• Oh well, all is well, ends well does it?

"Since I don't have anything to cook the Borsche I mentioned to you before, we'll have to settle for something else I'm afraid," Childe shrugs, "Anything in mind you wanna do?"

You sighed, fondly at least, "I already said I don't mind as long as you're cooking."

"S'that so? Well then," Childe moves renewed with energy, extending his hold in a beckoning manner and you laughed at his antics, "Shall we go, my snowflake?"

You take it and squeezed it, "I'd love to."

[lemonstars8583]

hello fnafheads i am posting yet again THIS TIME um. it’s my own designs/redesigns of the ! people. from uhmmm the books n shit. fazbear frights. these are very rough refs but 👍👍👍👍 yknow.

for Millie i got both uhmmm her when she’s Lame but trying really hard to style herself in a whatever way she can bc she doesn’t have anything cool. then when she gets a glow-up because i think it’d be funnier if she lived honestly. is she wearing bracelets on her sleeves? yes. does she have ANY what she’s doing? no. is she rocking it? yeah. why didn’t she punch freddy’s eyes out btw? that would’ve been my first immediate instinct. like yeah he probably would’ve killed her but also what’s he gonna do he’s busted. if i’m going down i’m taking you with me bitch see you back in the scrapyard bye <3 (he is my most favoritest ever)

umm then there’s kasey and i caaaannoooot stress to you how much i fucking HAATE. HATE her canon design i hate it. she looks so ugly and ALSO it makes no sense bc if she literally didn’t have the means to get any nice clothes in the story and had to try to steal them, then WHY IS SHE DEPICTED WITH NICE CLOTHES?? FULL MAKEUP? JEWELRY? DYED-BLONDE HAIR? i don’t understand. make up your mind.

Sarah!! <3 i think it would be so cool if eleanor pulled a You Won’t Die 😈 on her and forced her to live as some horrific half flesh half metal wire-y mess. i think that’d be more horror. idk i’m tired of people just kind of Dying and That’s It. like kasey didn’t so good for her Ballora fucked right off after she gave the glasses back but still. idk lol Sarah needed more to her. she slipped on a fucking banana peel and all of a sudden her entire body falls apart? the artificial mess of a body she’s been living in for weeks? all it took was one little trip and fall for it to entirely disassemble? what????? 😭😭😭 idk i don’t get it. also i HAVENT MADE THE FUCKED UP VERSION OF HER YET!! SORRY!! i’ll post that later ig whateva

ok um thank you bye.

also i’m like. mapping out an AU to combine all of these stories. or. Have Been for a while. also i hate eleanor so i’m trying to make a reason for her not to exist because i really don’t even know why she does? like idk. who are you. where is circus baby. my beloved circus baby. you freak you poser. idk i mean good for her for fucking everything up for no reason but also why did you do that. why are you real.

[tortoisebore]

any tips for new writers?

(btw i am literally in love with hey, sharpshooter it had me up all night reading it <3)

**disclaimer that i am by no means a person that has any actual real education/experience in writing or character work or world building & i can only give you what has worked for me & the things i’ve kept in mind while writing my little gay fanfiction 💞👯‍♀️

my main big picture tips are not backed up in research, they’re just what’s worked for me:

1. make a deeply detailed outline. spending a lot of time writing a very long, detailed outline at the beginning helped me a lot when i felt stuck in the back half of the fic. the outline changed a lot from when i started it, and i added little notes and ideas for scenes or dialogues or character traits along the way, but all of my big idea generation happened there and it helped me a lot with pacing the plot and building the characters and their relationship gradually. also** it was not some sort of technically perfect, structured outline—this is what it looked like:

fr just get all of your ideas down on a page in whatever way works for you. this is the place to word-dump to your heart’s content!!

2. make the first draft bad. fr just get it in the page. if you’re not feeling it or don’t have any specific word choices in your head when you’re writing the first draft, don’t worry about the dialogue being realistic or having perfect flowery metaphors or beautiful descriptive world building. literally just get it on the page in whatever way you can.

3. connect the dots between the type of writing you like to read and what you like to write. i loveee books with flowery prose and metaphors and natural dialogue, and i found that i really enjoyed writing those things, so they were the goals i focused on while i was doing all my editing/second draft writing. on the flip side, if you like to read extensive world-building but find yourself struggling to find motivation/inspiration to write it, don’t. try to write how you want to write, but put more emphasis on writing how you like to write.

4. don’t force it. this has been crucial to me bc i work a 9-5 in the art/design industry and i only have so much creative energy to go around, so i have to ration it carefully. if you try to force yourself to write when you’re really not feeling it, or when you’re out of motivation and frustrated and tired, it will 100% show in your writing.

5. don’t think about posting your work. for 99% of us, this is a hobby. posting your work is not a hobby, creating it is!! rn we exist in a world where people view creativity and art solely as content to be consumed, and i encourage you to place more emphasis on actually enjoying and finding peace and meaning in the journey of making something rather than the idea of other people consuming it. what it does for you and how it makes you feel is far more important than what it does for the people pressuring you for an update you’re not ready to give them.

and then here are a couple technical/grammatical tips that i learned way back in like 6th grade english or picked up on by reading a million books over the years & still think of constantly:

1. vary your sentence structure!! i am sometimes bad at this and i don’t really pay attention to it in my first drafts, but when i go back and edit i make sure to vary my sentences by length, compound vs. simple, breaking up with semicolons or hyphens, etc. a story that’s written with strong, varied sentence types will read much more naturally and flow better than one that doesn’t

2. be intentional about starting your sentences with different words. again, when i’m writing my first drafts i don’t pay much attention to things like this, but when i’m editing i’m really anal about making sure that my sentences don’t all start with “he” or “[insert name here]” or “it” or whatever. sometimes you can’t work around it, but my goal is to never have two consecutive sentences start with the same word, and i really really try to make sure that two consecutive paragraphs don’t start with the same word

3. say your dialogue out loud. i had the hardest time trying to make my dialogue feel natural at the start but honest to god saying it out loud with all the cadence and emphases you’re writing it with can really help you find ways to make it feel like actual people talking. also, don’t be afraid to use ellipses and hyphens and break up a string of dialogue with an action, like a character sighing or biting the inside of their cheek or moving their hands. people don’t talk in perfectly-structured sentences. we run-on and don’t use punctuation and we restart or hesitate in the middle of a sentence—include that!!

[yntaro]

Let’s talk about Romance Mangas!

My say to those I have read and loved: (not ranked)

1. This Manga hurts my heart. I read it while on high school and it kinda hit me with how lonely I am because I never had an Ayane-chan and Chizuru-chan, and Kazehaya-kun to downright change my life to better. But I did enjoy those time because I had romance manga to begin with. Kimi Ni Todoke might be the one that get me into read romance mangas. I liked it because I somewhat relate to Sawako, being outcasted and all. I grew to love their story, and found myself hoping that maybe love will come to me too.

Kimi Ni Todoke (From Me to You)

2. In this spin off featuring Kurumizawa Ume (a character from Kimi Ni Todoke) and Sawako’s cousin Eiji Akahoshi, my hope for meeting love blooms even greater. They were soulmates as the title suggests so they were literally speed, but then I haven’t read the latest chapters yet because I can’t find them (if anyone know, pls let me know). As I was saying, they literally skipped the slow burn but still works because we can now root for the former second leads. (Yes, Eiji is from another romance manga from the same author: Crazy for Love)

Kimi Ni Todoke: Soulmate

3. What do you do when you accidentally married a man twice your age?? Some may not want age gap romance, especially when the age gap is 20 years, but you might change your mind reading this manga. It’s wholesome and you can actually find yourself smiling and rooting for their relationship to work. This manga has been going on the internet, it’s popular so you may had heard of it, it’s where I heard of it, so I think I don’t have to had any say except I enjoyed it and I am finding or accepting manga recs similar to this.

Gomashio to Pudding (Sesame Salt and Pudding)

4. WHOLESOME IS THE WORD. This manga is fresh breath of air. I’m pretty sure most of you guys have heard of it as it’s one of this month’s anime. I just love how cute they are in each chapter, even the other couples. And I thoroughly enjoy Himuro’s monologue. :)) If you guys were bothered by random pacings, you should watch the anime instead. They swept up the plot.

Koori Zokusei Danshi to Cool na Douryou Joshi (The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague)

5. Wahhhh this is really addictive, I can’t stop myself from thinking that the whole time I am reading. A combination of slice of life, comedy, and romance genre, huh. Who knows it will all work beautifully as in this masterpiece. (Also, Sousuke Shima’s character design reminds me a bit of Miura Kento from Kimi Ni Todoke)

Skip and Loafer

6. HOT. I have no other words. Some may misunderstand though. But it’s what I think of it, like will you look at them!!! They’re attacking me. I hope we got to see how their relationship progress soon. Btw, I’m all in for Ichi, I’m sorry dear Oji.

Uruwashi no Yoi no Tsuki (In the Clear Moonlit Dusk)

Aaaand I just rumbled my thoughts on the last part. I may edit it for a more serious discussion later. Thanks! :)))