#everything after the sketches took like. a week. that hurted

[couch-house]

Merger AU comic... begin!! I think I've got my comic skills to a point where I want to try doing an STC-style multi-part story. I've got it all scripted, now I just have to do it. It's a lot of work! So erm 👉👈 I'd really appreciate if you'd ♥ 💬 or 🔁 to let me know what you think :)

Confused? Don't go here? Read my fanfiction as a prologue! Or don't! This picks up right after the end of Fleetway's Sonic The Comic, so you aren't really missing much. tl;dr for basic stc lore below:

In the UK Sonic comic, Sonic transforms into Super after exposure to large amounts of chaos energy or in times of great stress. Super is a violent, chaotic monster that destroys everything and everyone he sees until he loses power and reverts back to Sonic. Halfway through the comic, Super and Sonic are physically separated. Super then loses his powers and--briefly--his memories, becoming a nice little guy who wanders Metropolis Zone getting adopted by sweet old ladies. This includes Ebony the Mystic Mog (a witch/sorceres) and Pyjamas the Psychic. They take him in as family and give him a job at Ebony's coffee bar The Groovy Train. As Super's chaos energy fades, he starts dying. Ebony takes him to find the Chaos Emeralds to heal him, but runs into the Sonic Adventure 1 plot. Super absorb's Chaos' energy and becomes evil again, until Ebony seals him away in Sonic's body.

Hopefully some of that was apparent already! The only changes I've made to canon before this point is letting Super choose a new name as Fleet :)

[cheriladycl01]

No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 2

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

As you'd promised you'd gone straight back to London, you thrown yourself into your work. You spent the days on the construction sight for the new house you were flipping, overseeing the progress. You spent the evenings in the studio working on more plans for the interior of the house.

But you did miss him, of course you missed him.

He was your person ...

Your guy...

The love of your life.

In the time that you'd come home however, videos had surfaced, many videos had surfaced...

The first was of you and Lando in the club, someone from a table across from the one your friends had been sat in showed how Lando had acted towards you and how his friends had tried to back you up. The next was of you running up to Alex, begging for a lift.

Afterwards, videos were leaked of the rest of Lando's night where he celebrated his win, by dancing with his friends and random girls that were being pulled into the big group. Nothing scandalous but enough to upset the fans who really liked you.

Later on, after the first few videos came out a video came out of Max Fewtrell and him arguing before him and Pietra left. Max actually pushed him a little and lots of hand gestures were flying round, but Lando looked just as angry as Max did.

Normally when you were in London, people knew they'd get content on your Instagram stories of you doing what you do best. People had suggested you to start a YouTube because your live's and reels were so funny that they'd definitely spend the time watching.

But you'd been dark since the argument with Lando and people were getting worried including Lando. So when you posted a titkok with your team, in the trend that AstonMartin did where the camera is up high above and you all do funny things, the media went crazy.

You then posted a video on instagram talking about the new house and the progress that was coming on.

"Hey guys! Y/N here! Just wanted to show you how the latest project is coming on. We've torn down the living room and put all new flooring in, which actually has built in underfloor heating which i think here in the UK is a real money move. We're going to hook it all up to a central network from the hallway as you walk in, which we finally finished the painting for that last week" you pan showing the round the areas you'd been talking about.

You showed you and one of the girls tearing down the kitchen.

Captioned 'Best Part of the Job, Free Rage Room', which is how you'd always referred to the demolition phase of house flipping. People on twitter of course took it out of context and rumors started flying that you and Lando had in fact called it splits, even one of those WAG update pages 'confirming' the breakup from close sources.

You'd found it laughable really, but you knew it would be hurting Lando, and no matter how much he hurt you ... you weren't a bitter person. You didn't want him hurting as well.

You were sat in your studio at your desk, sketching for the garden. The pen was currently in your mouth, sat back debating whether you should reach out to Lando or wait for him to come to you.

It had been three weeks at this point with no communication. You'd spoken to Lando's family, who had talked with you about everything that had happened. Cisca and Adam had apologized for their sons behavior.

As you were about to pick up your phone, caving in to messaging Lando first when you swore you wouldn't on knock on your wooden studio door sounds.

You frown, wondering who on earth would be coming to you at this time of the night. You weren't even open, office hours were long over. It was about 11pm, so your clients knew you weren't taking calls even though you were still here and working with a light on.

You open the door, bolt and latch on for added protection.

"Lando?" you ask seeing the curly haired boy, hoodie up and his eyes looking more tired than you'd ever seen them.

"You want to open up and let me in baby?" he asks softly, a slight crack to his voice.

"I was just about to call you" you admit, unlatching the door so it swings open fully. He stops just under the arch of the door observing you. It was like he was having a small inward debate with himself.

"Gonna cave coz you miss me?" he jokes, testing the waters. He didn't know how you were now that you'd have some time apart. He was hopeful that he could talk to you again and fix what had happened.

"Honestly yeah. I hate you and how much of a hold you have on me" you admit, leaning back into your chair directing him to the sofa.

"I came here, to say I'm sorry and that I was horrible to you. And I know it's not excuse but I want to explain what happened. In full... I think you deserve more than an explanation... but I think you need one for if we are ever going to go back to what we were" he sighs. He leans forward and takes your hand into his.

He explains how, after the race people told him you'd said you were leaving the race track. So he went to the hotel to find you, only for you not to be there, Max came round and said you were probably getting ready with the girls as P had told him you were all gonna meet them there.

"I didn't think this was too out of the ordinary for you, your especially close with P and Lily, and it wouldn't shock me if Kelly and Kika would drag you all into a girl pre-club party in their hotel room..." he laughs knowing that normally you and P would do each other's makeup when Max and her came to race weekends. Or you and Lily would switch outfit's loving to venture into each other's styles.

When he got to the club and no-one had seen you, and Pierre and Charles had come up to him with celebratory shots, he hadn't declined.

"The shots were the start of what slowly just went downhill, I don't think i ever want to drink that much again, I was so happy at the start" he laughs flushing red and the thought of him knocking back shots, which was rare considering he didn't like to drink. He wouldn't be doing it anytime soon that was for sure.

"You deserved to celebrate though baby, don't make it seem like you shouldn't have had a fun night" you admit, both of you were being open and mature adults right now. You were so glad you'd both spent some time apart to think before you fought more, now you were both talking and listening to each other and you couldn't help but think it was beautiful and intimate.

After the three hour mark he was fed up that you hadn't bothered to show up at such an important night for him. Talking to Charles and Pierre who were also drunk, weren't the best influences on suggesting places you could be. All of them being ones his drunk mind could picture vividly, his sober mind would have known his girl would never dream of doing that to him.

"Charles said some things and I know sober me would have known you wouldn't do that, but i was already angry thinking you'd just ditched me. I shouldn't have drunk as much and I know its no excuse... but" he starts and you nod.

"The main thing is you know how you would have acted. Yes you upset me, yes your hurt me because you said some horrible things to me..."

"Yeah, I've heard the video and It wasn't my intention to embarrass you the way I did, especially in front of our friends. I'm so so sorry!" he admits.

The other group, had tried to convince him that maybe you'd just got held up and thats where Oscar, Lily, Max and P had all messaged you.

"Baby, I'm so so sorry that i wasn't there for you after what happened!" he says tears in his eyes. This would forever be one of his biggest regrets in life, not being there for you when you needed him.

"How did you find out?" you gulp, not really wanting to think about what could have happened that night if it wasn't for the Mclaren Mechanics.

"Well, after having a scolding from Oscar, and Max, and Alex, and Zac... the mechanics also threatened to botch my pit stops. So i listened to what they did for you"

"Mmmm it was scary. All i wanted was you" you nod, rubbing a thumb across his hand.

"I'm so so sorry, I promised you that i'd protect you always. And I've failed!" he says with a little snivel and tears brimming his eyes.

"You've not failed, you just made a mistake, there's been some miscommunication and Charles and Pierre didn't help with their boyish meddling but ... we'll get there" you smile before pulling closer to him and nuzzling into his neck breathing in his sent.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asks softly pulling you back so he can fully look at you.

"I already have, darling" you smile.

"What did i ever do to deserve you, I don't think i do" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, well I think the historians will argue one day its me who didn't deserve you" you sigh, brushing some of his hair back.

"I doubt that" he scoffs, knowing that when you first started dating, even with your lack of status people still thought you were too kind, too sweet and too innocent for someone as jokey and brash as Lando was seen to be.

"I've never had anyone treat me the way you do, I'm so so in love with you. And I don't ever want the feelings I have when i think of you and see you to stop. I feel like i can do anything when i have you by my side. Why do you think the first person i seeked out was you?" you offer, softly leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You guys, talked more that night. About how you actually had fun helping the Mclaren boys pack up, regardless if you thought Lando had forgotten about you.

A week later and the media had picked up on the sighting the paps had got of both of you. Some fans had seen you both at a restaurant and make posts on it.

The comments bashed you either way, being between saying how silly you were for taking him back or the others saying they were upset you were back. It got to the point where you had to release a statement saying that you and Lando, are grown adults who can talk through the miscommunication and issues you'd experienced and were better for it now.

"I love you so much, and I'm never ever ever acting up like that again" he says as you help him do up his fire suit for the race you were currently at with him.

"I love you too, now go out and get another win for me baby so we can celebrate properly this time" you smile, kissing him before Jon comes forward asking for Lando's presence in the front of the garage.

A/N: I hope you guys think this did the first part justice as so many people requested a Part 2, so I'm really scared that this hasn't done it justice! If you want a rewrite with something better... something longer where its more of a series. Or where it goes the opposite way and it takes her longer to forgive him let me know. I just thought that Y/N and Lando in this one specifically would be the type to maturely talk about things!

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[evis-gossip]

His mission. Part 2: Wake up

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Categories: Light angst, fluff, mostly hurt/comfort, almost sick fic

Warnings: Protective! Ghost (almost possessive). Talk of commas and unconsciousness. No use of Y/N. Allusions to long hair and small body. Hospital setting. Ghostie’s in his feels, I fear. MC speaks briefly of loosing their family and so does Simon.

Word count: 1k words

A/N: Guess what? We’re back babes. I did a little more research for this one and so it’s a little longer. MC is explicitly female in this one, sorry babes. I acknowledge that so far it has been faily platonic, but it's gonna start getting romantic soon. I can't help but want to eat this man up.

Part 1: He had you - Masterlist

Simon hadn’t moved and inch away from your bed.

Johnny had just brought him a change of clothes, jeans and a jumper. Simple, but most importantly, not tactical gear. Nothing bulletproof, cammo, sharp or particularly practical. Just something comfortable that’d make you feel easier in his presence. In any other case he wouldn’t have cared about clothes, but he did now. He wanted to look presentable for when you finally woke up.

Believing you would wake up at any second, he made Soap stand watch over you while he changed in the hospital rest room. And when he came back at super speed, fully believing you must’ve woken up after the less than 5 minutes he was gone, he was utterly disappointed when you didn’t. He had your safety first thing in his mind, but he just wanted you to wake up already. He had so many questions. Like for starters, what was your name? He wanted to know everything about you, but he couldn’t know anything without even enough to utter your name and went right back to sleep, then that would be enough to get someone to find intel on you. At least then he could let you rest while he studied your history. They even tried your fingerprints. But no such luck.

He should be grateful the doctor hadn’t proclaimed you comatose, just unconscious, just resting. But to be honest with himself, he was getting greedy, he wanted more. He needed to know what the hell was it that made you feel so safe in his presence? Why did the old bloke feel so protective over you? Maybe because your delicate features made you look so angelic, or because you had felt so soft and small in his arms. But he forbade himself from thinking those thoughts over an unconscious woman he knew nothing about. He didn’t even know how old you were and still he wanted to haul you up in his arms.

Simon hadn’t slept in almost a week. Ever since he found you, he hadn’t slept a wink. He spent all that time looking into you face, inspecting every feature, every freckle. And he was a soldier, he could keep himself awake for 72, no caffeine, imagine with. But after all that time, sleep was starting to catch up with him. Your steady heart beat on the monitor was starting to lull him to sleep.

He didn’t notice his head falling to the side of the bed, nudging your knee, right next to your limp hand. Not the most comfortable position to fall asleep in. Delete Created with Sketch.

When he woke up, something was tickling his forehead. He opened his eyes with a groan to find out that something were your fingers lightly trying to graze his skin. He sat up so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. When he looked into your face, you’re eyelashes were fluttering so slightly he might as well have dreamed it. He wanted to caress you face gently and brush away the strands of hair, but instead took your fingers in his hand and traced your fingernails, willing you to wake up.

As much as he had eagerly will you to arise, he now had to face the reality of it. What if you didn’t even speak English? That was a very real possibility. And what if you had amnesia and didn’t even remember your name? He eagerly watched you wake up nonetheless, swallowing his own questions for later. Your head tilted to the side and your eyelids scrunched tighter one last time before you opened them with a whine.

“Hey luv” he smiled softly, not like the beast baring his teeth he’s used to being “Hmm, brit, eh?” “That’s right” he sighed looking at your face. That was the first thing he ever heard you say, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find your voice otherworldly. He’d do anything to keep you talking. You looked so peaceful and far better than how he found you, but he needed to know " What’s yer name, luv? Can’t find yer family wit’out it” You tilted your head to your side, avoiding the question completely, tears filling your water line “Sh sh sh” He cooed gently as got closer, cupping your face tenderly “Yer don’t gotta talk if yer ain’t ready” Simon looked into your eyes and felt himself fighting to stay above water instead of drowning in them. You whispered your name before breaking into tears. “They’re all gone. ‘Is only me now” You sobbed your heart out, leaning into his arms and Simon found himself finally gathering you up to his chest again. He kept repeating in his head that it was all to calm you down, but truth was, he enjoyed having you so close, even if you were crying hysterically.

He rubbed your back soothingly softly beckoning you to calm down. He understood. He didn’t have anyone else left either, but he was not about to let you feel the same way he did, not when you just woke up after being held hostage for god knows how long. He’d be there for you. When your crying slowed down to soft sniffles, he laid you down on the bed again, right before nurses flooded the room to check you up after waking up. A little more conscious than the previous time, you scurried away from them and crawled to the safety of Simon’s warm embrace. And he held you tight. It was conflicting really. To feel so protective over someone so vulnerable. Almost possessive. Like an incessant need to keep you all to himself.

He was glad you had woken up and started to talk. He was even more pleased when you fell back asleep clutching the fabric of his jumper, nuzzling into his chest again. This time he did not put you back in bed, but instead pulled the blanket over your small frame and sat back, letting you sleep peacefully in the cradle of his arms.

Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!!!! <333

[steepwysdom]

THIS IS MYSTICDRAGONI

COMMISSIONS OPEN. $5 A SKETCH, ANYTHING HELPS!! THIS IS TO HELP PAY MEDICAL BILLS!

Ko-fi - PayPal

August 9th I had my wisdom teeth removed $2,000

August 19th I moved 10 hours from home to a college program

August 25th my jaw hurt.

August 26th I���m in the ER for an infection, I was sick, my left cheek was swollen, cold chest and shaking violently. $30 in prescribed medication + $166.63 visit

August 27th I’m at an oral clinic who won’t help me but charged me $255 for a X-ray. Sent me back to ER for a CT scan.

August 28th my mom surprises me after work, she drove 10 hours down here without telling me, met up with me as I got off the bus and I just broke down crying. She took me to the ER this time and I got the CT scan they wanted, more antibiotics.. $2,500 charge.

August 29th we find a surgeon. My paycheck from last week’s work was $125.

August 30th I have a $1,200 surgery to have the infection removed.

So my total amount of money spent in less than a month is: $7,951 … not even including my moving fees/apartment but I paid that myself.

the reason I am telling you this is because my parents are tight on money and I have been spending a lot of it due to my medical bills, and unfortunately surgery today made me loose 14hrs worth of work.

I NEED YOUR HELP! I AM WILLING TO DRAW WHAT EVER YOU WOULD LIKE! NO RULES EXCEPT YOUR RESULTS LOOK LIKE THIS!

SHARING HELPS TOO! THANK YOU FOR ANYTHING & EVERYTHING!

SHADED OR UNSHADED, PRICE DOES NOT CHANGE. $5

Here’s proof of my medical emergency:

Before vs after

Bloodwork x2 + anesthesia & antibiotics

[inkpetrichor]

Muse | Azumane Asahi x f!reader

1.-Artist's block. masterlist here<3

cw. a little angsty, use of y/n, the ukai/sakanoshitas being lovely<3

an. Happy new years everyone! And happy birthday to my favorite ace and #1 fictional husband Azumane Asahi!!

wc. 4.3k

Drawing had always been your best coping mechanism. Anatomy sketches, doodles, scenery painting. Ever since your grandpa had gifted you your first sketchbook, you had poured yourself onto the paper, finding in it a peaceful, harmless way to deal with emotional pain—marking paper instead of skin.

It had saved you, in a way. This newfound skill, refined with time and dedication, became your lifeline.

Life in Tokyo had been one of the darkest times of your life. Living with your parents would have killed you—slowly, like a houseplant deprived of light and water, silently withering in the corner of a dark living room, incapable of providing for itself what should be provided for it.

Your grandpa saved you. Taking you away from your parents the moment he realized how badly you were hurting, how badly they were hurting you. He took you under his wing and assured you everything was settled—that you would never have to go back to Tokyo again.

Unsurprisingly, your parents didn't even fight to keep you with them. And while that hurt a little, it didn't surprise you. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't really attached to them either. There wasn't anything there to be attached to, really. Only the crushing weight of their expectations and absolutely zero affection.

You tried to find a memory from your childhood where you felt the warmth of their love, maybe a kiss to your forehead or a bedtime story, but the "child memories" drawer in your mind was almost sealed shut.

You were certain they had never truly loved you. They were probably relieved that someone else would take what they saw as a burden off their hands. You had never been good enough for them. That plant wasn't pretty enough to care for. 

And yet, under the Ukai and Sakanoshita household, you bloomed. Your grandpa put a sketchbook in your hands, food in your belly, and a warm family unit that actually felt like family around you. You were infinitely grateful for it.

You could feel the love they had for each other in this household. They would occasionally engage in playful banter with each other, like they actually got along, not just the typical family politeness where respect is law far above love. And everyone from your uncle to his wife, even their son Keishin, had assumed the responsibility to give you a home without expecting anything in return.

Your uncle's wife treated you the way you assumed an actual mother would, even though you weren't related to her. She was sweet and spoke to you softly, almost as if she was afraid of scaring you away—she was— You knew this was special treatment since you'd heard her nagging her son, every now and then, being far more severe with him than she ever was with you.

She always made sure you felt comfortable and acted as your personal guardian when you first arrived, ensuring everyone respected your space. You were skittish at first, and the Ukai family could be a little... intense. For the first week or so, you barely left the improvised room they'd given you while they set everything up.

And set things up they did.

Behind the Sakanoshita store stood a "Kura" storehouse, a large, traditional structure about the size of a small garage. You weren't sure what they used to store there or where it went once you arrived, but by the time you came to the Sakanoshita house, your grandpa, uncle, and cousin were already hard at work adapting it into a livable space.

"I don't like the idea," your aunt complained over dinner one evening after the men had finished working on it for the day. "It's too dark in there, and she'll be all alone. Besides, my grandma used to say people locked their children in there as punishment back in the day. It feels cruel."

Your uncle sighed, setting his plate of freshly served takikomi gohan down.

"That was way back in the Edo period, love. We can't have her sleeping in such a small room forever. She needs a bigger space."

"And besides! We've already started building; you should've said something sooner," Keishin added, sitting down and immediately talking through a mouthful of food.

You looked up from your warm, savory plate and smiled at your aunt as she cupped her face in her hand, brows furrowed, clearly unconvinced.

"I genuinely don't mind where I sleep. If it's small or dark, even if it's cold or humid, I'll still be grateful for it," you said, hoping to calm her worries.

Instead, your words seemed to have the opposite effect. For one, everyone looked at you in shock, as this was the first time you'd said more than a soft "thank you," "good morning," or "good night" since arriving. And second, your aunt's worried expression deepened with sorrow. You felt a flicker of panic, thinking you had somehow offended her with your words.

"Y/N, please don't speak like that. You're part of this family now, so it's important that you live well and comfortably. Besides, these are your last years of high school—equal parts fun and responsibility. You need to be well to do well."

Her words, though tinged with sadness, filled you with a warmth you weren't used to but would grow into soon enough.

After all, it's hard to feel cold when surrounded by warmth.

Your uncle nodded in agreement with his wife.

"That's just another reason why the Kura is perfect—she needs space and privacy."

Your aunt turned to argue again, a soft "but..." leaving her lips before Grandpa Ukai's voice interrupted.

"The Kuras weren't only used for bad things," he stated with his usual serious, matter-of-fact tone, not looking up from his plate. "Royals originally built them to protect their valuables and other precious things."

Even if his words seemed cold and emotionless, there was deep tenderness within them. Maybe he didn't intend it, but he had implied you were something to be valued and protected. It even seemed to convince your aunt, as she dropped the subject after that.

You didn't dare look at her face, though. You quickly looked down at your plate as soon as you felt your eyes grow hazy with tears of deep, joyful gratitude.

You quickly learned your grandpa was probably the sweetest man alive. It was easy to warm up to him, and even easier to see why the entire household was so loving. He might have looked scary or intimidating, but behind that cold attitude and coarse facial features was a deeply caring, kind man.

For starters, he had quite literally rescued you—taking you from the place that was killing you emotionally and putting you in a place that nurtured and cared for you. He showed you that drawing and art—something you already enjoyed a little but had never devoted much time or effort to—could be the perfect way to help yourself. To distract you from dangerous urges, to put your feelings on paper, to visualize.

Drawing required you to look up, to look inside, to look beyond. It demanded that you see past your mental fog. And the moment he realized you had replaced your self-destructive mechanism with art, he quickly placed even more art into your hands.

All sorts of supplies: canvases, acrylics, oils, art books, art lessons at the community center. He even asked you to paint him some landscapes under the excuse that "his house was looking empty and old." And nothing made you feel better than seeing Ikkei Ukai—a harsh-looking man who would never sugarcoat—genuinely love your paintings.

It built you up, sketch by sketch. Painting by painting. Like building blocks reconstructing a dark, forgotten Kura storage and turning it into a home.

Art was working. It was healing you. And once he noticed this, once you were slowly coming out of your shell and blooming into life again, he showered you with everything you needed to transform this hobby—this coping mechanism—into a lifeline. A ladder to climb your way out of the cave, the tomb where you had been buried and told to call home.

You didn't need that "home" anymore. You didn't believe in it. You had an actual home now. He had given you not only a place where you could be helped but also a tool to help yourself.

When he fell ill and was hospitalized, everyone in the Sakanoshita house watched you closely, as if expecting you to crash, to wither again. But you stayed strong. The thought of not letting their efforts—the time, money, and care they'd spent on you—go to waste kept you firm and focused on what you did best: art.

You painted and drew landscapes for him in the hospital, using the traditional Japanese style you knew was his favorite. Landscapes of the Sakanoshita store, the farm, his own garden, his own house. So he wouldn't forget the place he had to return to. They were reminders that silently said, "Get well soon. You need to come back home."

In a way, you kept each other in check. You kept your grandpa in the hospital, getting better, and he kept you in line with your own recovery. You didn't want to worry him, and he didn't want to worry you. You helped each other. You used that tool—art—in every way you knew it could help.

So naturally, when that tool started failing you, when the dreaded artist's block you'd heard of and feared so much finally arrived, it came as a grim reminder. Creativity was not an infinite resource.

And in its absence, you felt the beast that had once been your friend stir in her slumber, threatening to wake. She wasn't dead, only dormant.

And she was hungry.

"What if it gets bad again?"

"What if I get worse again?"

"What if I get worse again and they send me back?"

"What if I can't give back to them what they gave to me, and that causes them to resent me and discard me?"

"Me. Them. This."

"I don't wanna lose this. I don't want to lose them."

"Draw. Draw. Please draw. More landscapes, more."

It was different, though. It wasn't enough. Landscapes were good, but they didn't feed the beast; they didn't put her to sleep like they once had. And somehow, where you once found yourself in front of a seemingly never-ending ocean of ideas to put on paper, there was now a drought-stricken view of your imagination—dry and hot, burning your naked feet raw where you stood.

And the beast was starting to bite the bars of its cage, threatening to swallow you whole once again.

Finding solace in the written word of a good book was an okay coping mechanism. An okay replacement tool. But it worked even better when you had the presence of a certain someone there too.

Azumane Asahi exuded a sort of aura that made you relaxed. Everything about him, from his huge frame and strong facial features in perfect contrast with his infinitely softer demeanor, had your heart in a knot and made the once-scary beast in you purr like a cat while you were in his presence. He made you feel at home like the Ukai family did. He made that library you both shared feel like a sanctuary. Not quite like home, but enough. And even if, at the beginning, you tried to deny it, and even if it confused you, you were self-aware enough to know you were starting to fall for him. Hard.

Because how could you not?

At the beginning of your third year, he started showing up less, though. And you could tell something was bothering him. Your eyes would find him in class—as usual—and they would find him deep in thought, with his brows furrowed and eyes foggy, like he was somewhere else, like he was reminiscing about something, something that hurt. It's not just about what you saw, but about what you felt in that moment—a sense that something was unsettled within those warm, soft eyes. They seemed to carry a weight, like a shadow that words couldn't mask, something you could feel was bothering the tender smile he gave you every morning, making it falter.

And then the kouhais.

One morning, right before class, you were coming back from your little sanctuary—that felt less and less like one every time he wouldn't show up—just to find him standing right outside the classroom, talking to two first-years. He looked a little taken aback, as one of them—a tiny ginger one—was expressively trying to get his point across, talking with his hands and his whole body. You could tell he was small but full of passion. As you got closer, the bell rang, and the tall, dark-haired classmate that was with him lightly slapped him in the back of the head, encouraging him to leave. The ginger started walking away, looking very disappointed, and the tall one turned to Asahi and said one last thing.

"You don't win alone. That's just how it is. That's why there are six other players on the court. I didn't realize that till recently, so I'm not one to talk. Excuse me," he said, then politely bowed and walked away. You silently made your way to Asahi and tried to scoot behind him to get into the classroom.

"Excuse me..." you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. But he didn't seem to.

He didn't take his eyes off the duo that had just been talking to him, and there it was again. That fog in his eyes. That distant, almost haunted quality to them, as if he was reliving a moment he wished he could forget—or one he wished he could go back to, though you weren't really sure.

The pain lingered just beneath the surface, visible in the way his gaze softened, seeing something only he could. It was the kind of look that told a story without words—a memory that still hurt too much to speak aloud.

Your heart felt a little tight seeing him like that. You allowed your fingers to brush lightly against his back, feeling the texture of his school blazer and the warmth of his body under your fingertips. 

"Azumane-san. Are you okay?"

He seemed to snap out of his trance and looked down at you with wide eyes, slightly embarrassed to be caught in deep thought.

"A-ah... Yeah, don't worry. Just thinking," he said, scratching the back of his neck and averting his gaze. His lips curled up, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. It lingered there, a practiced gesture—just wide enough to look convincing. The feeling in your chest was so different from that usual warmth his smiles gave you. You didn't buy it. And he seemed to realize you didn't buy it, as his expression turned a little anxious. However, you nodded, giving him an understanding smile.

"I see... Well then, class is starting."

"Don't worry, Azumane. I won't pry," is what your smile seemed to say. And he seemed to get the message, immediately relaxing again. Still looking a little uncomfortable at the fact his cover was blown off so easily, but appreciative of your respect.

"Right..."

It was bittersweet. How desperately you wanted to be near him, talk to him, know more about him—and how little progress you had made in the month you shared the library with him almost every day. It's not like you were doing any active efforts to get closer to him, though. But you just didn't know how to approach him. He was clearly a rather private person, so you were afraid of crossing unspoken boundaries and driving him away.

You sighed and clutched the book you were holding to your chest. Even from the door to the library, you could tell he wasn't there. Another no-show. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you and turn into frustration as you turned away from the library and decided to just go home for the day.

You still hadn't drawn a single thing, and the book you were reading wasn't helping either. You sighed again as you walked out of the school, and as you walked down the hill toward the Sakanoshita store, and again as you entered it. You didn't realize you were doing it, though. It was more of a compulsion, something your body did on its own, probably to ground itself.

You might not have noticed doing it, but a sharp-eyed blond behind the counter sure did. And he wasted no time shifting his perceptive gaze from the sports magazine he was reading to you.

"Another tough day?" he asked, making you stop in place and give him a confused look.

He rested his magazine on the counter and the lit cigarette on his lips, propping his face on a closed fist, observing you with prying eyes. With his other hand, he lazily pointed at the door. "Every day you cross that doorframe with heavy feet, and sighing all gloomy-like." Keishin mocked your "gloomy-like" walk through the door as he spoke, and your cheeks warmed a bit in embarrassment. "Which means... something has been bothering you."

You let out a defeated sigh and nodded, finding no use in trying to hide your frustration since he was so sure and so right about it. Keishin raised an eyebrow at you, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Have you been drawing?"

"No... Not for lack of trying, though."

"I see... so it's like that, huh?" He lay back in his chair and returned to his magazine. His demeanor seemed carefree, but his eyes still flicked to you attentively. "It happens sometimes, kid. Every artist goes through it. It'll eventually go away, and you'll be able to draw again."

"Sure. But how? How do I make it go away?" Your voice betrayed the pent-up frustration you had been feeling, but if Keishin noticed, he didn't show it.

"Well, I don't know—I'm no artist. Take a walk around the farm, look at nature and whatnot. Look at your surroundings, find something to inspire you I dunno."

"You know, that's actually a great idea..." His eyes returned to the magazine as he gave you a triumphant smile.

"Heh. Is it? Look at me, the wise older cousin... Now go, you're on pork bun duty today. The ones you make sell a lot better." The praise cheered you up a little, and Keishin smiled to himself at how easy it was to see what you were thinking.

"They do?"

"Uh-huh."

The confirmation only made you cheerier, making you forget a bit about your frustration. You hurried to your room to change so you could get to work on those buns.

The next day, you followed Ukai's advice to a tee.

You tried to look at everything around you attentively. Went for walks around the school building instead of going to the library, stared at the flowers the gardening club had planted around the yard, and tried to study their colors. You looked at the little bees and butterflies fluttering around, enjoying the spring's warmth and abundance. You even tried to conjure some haikus in your head about spring and sakura trees or anything and everything that could inspire you. But sadly, it didn't seem to be working.

Staring at your sketchbook at the end of the school day, you still couldn't think of anything to draw. Nothing of substance, at least. You drew little doodles of bees and butterflies, and the gardening club's tulips, but instead of helping, you found yourself growing more and more frustrated.

The beast growled, reminding you of her presence, her hunger. You closed your sketchbook and tried to calm yourself, calm the frustration, clenching your teeth as you took a deep breath through your nose.

"Okay! Time for another walk!" you said out loud, standing up and moving. You were determined not to let the frustration consume you.

As you walked around, your mind started drifting to Asahi. The moment his face appeared in your mind, you could feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy, making you embarrassed.

His face in your mind was an uninvited but always welcome, recurring thought. Azumane was an incredibly gentle soul; you could tell that by the way he spoke, his expressions, his body language, and especially his eyes when he looked at you. Even though it didn't help your attempts at not falling for him, you couldn't help but observe and analyze him whenever he was around you, studying him, willingly putting on those rose-tinted glasses. The beauty in him was so apparent to you, so attractive. There was nothing unlovable about him.

You missed him.

You missed his comforting presence next to you while you both read. You missed the small conversations you occasionally had about books or about homework. You missed his deep yet soft voice, which made your heart beat faster every time he'd laugh or stutter.

You missed him.

And then you heard him.

"SUGAAAAA!!! ONE MORE!"

In your trance, you made your way to the school gym without realizing it. And as you passed right outside the gym door, his scream made you jump in place and stop dead in your tracks. You never heard him scream; you were surprised your gentle giant could even do that. But you were sure it was him. You recognized his voice. Your pulse quickened, and your stomach tied itself in knots—anxiety or excitement, you couldn't tell—as you peeked inside to watch what was happening.

When you spotted Azumane on the court, you held your breath. There he was, mid-air, ready to hit the ball. It was like time froze. And suddenly everything fell into place.

You felt an electric current flowing all over your body. From the top of your head to the tips of your fingers, an electric current that begged you to grab your pencil and sketchbook and get to work. That inspiration you had been missing filled you suddenly and fully, just by looking at him in the air, spiking the ball.

It was like you were standing in the middle of a vast, uncharted desert before, where the limits of your imagination stretched in front of you.

Then suddenly, Azumane was hitting the ball, powerful and loud, and the terrain before you was alive again, vivid and navigable. All the shapes, colors, and concepts that were once elusive, that escaped you, were now a coherent vision—a vision you could put on paper, a vision you could turn into art.

You felt an urgency to draw, to create. To get home and doodle away this intense feeling.

You wanted to draw him.

Everything, from his determined and focused expression taking over the face that so often looked nervous and unsure, his muscular arms, which might as well be considered artillery weapons judging by the sound the ball made when it hit the opposite side of the court and how the three blockers couldn't possibly stop it, to the toned legs that helped him cushion the fall of his jump like the springs of a perfect machine.

You weren't looking at his body in a particularly lewd way, but more like how you look at an already finished, already perfected work of art, deserving of a place in the most prestigious of museums. Your heart was racing even though you weren't breathing, holding onto that first inhale like a lifeline, and your fingers clung to the door as you watched with wide eyes. 

You needed to draw him.

After the powerful spike, his feet were back on the floor and his teammates seemed to congratulate him. You just couldn't stop staring at him.

And if you weren't so hypnotized by your big fat crush on this man, you would have noticed some familiar faces from the Neighborhood Association, or maybe you would have seen a freckled guy notice your presence and approach you with a confused look in his eyes.

"Um... excuse me... Who are you?" he asked politely.

You snapped back to reality, the crash of your adrenaline shock hitting you like a cold slap in the face. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out, and you felt your face heat up with embarrassment as you looked behind you to where Azumane was staring right back at you with wide, dumbfounded eyes.

"I-I..." You jumped in place again, jolting at the sound of the gym door being violently pushed open. Just to get even more disoriented when you saw none other than Keishin Ukai looking back at you with his own set of confused eyes.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" he asked. And luckly, you could feel the confusion replace your embarassment a little. "What are you doing here? And who's- oh, hello, Shimada-san" you offered a polite smile to Keishin's friend as you recognized him, and he gave you a polite yet confused nod back. You turned back to your relative with furrowed brows "Who's watching the store?" Keishin lift an eyebrow down at you.

"My mom." he sighed and motioned you to go inside the gym. "It doesn't matter, come in and wait for me here, we'll leave together when this is done." He turned to the court and clapped his hands once. "Sorry about that everyone, let us continue." You entered the gym with a bow and an apology, and you avoided Asahi's eyes as you sat on the floor next to where Ukai and a teacher you recognized as Tanaka-sensei were standing. You could feel his eyes on you, and you couldn't find it in yourself to meet his gaze. It's not like he knew you were practically spying on him, if anything it looked like you had come to meet your relative, who so happened to be the coach. But that didn't really helped you feel less of a creep.

And yet, the feeling of guilt was occuping only a small portion of your head as the vast mayority of it was overwhelmed by the need to draw. So you pulled out your sketchbook and pencil and numbed out the sorrounding sounds as you worked your magic like you used to do.

It was easy again, natural. You could barely hear the sounds of Ukai and Tanaka-sensei talking about the match and the players, you could barely hear the shoes on the court floor, or the ball hitting the floor. But there was a particular sound you quickly learnt to recognize. The strong "boom" of a particularly strong spike, that only pushed you to draw more, like the drum that marked your tempo. You felt Keishin's eyes on you, but you didn't mind them, too absort in your sketching to look up.

"No more art block then?"

You shooked you head softly and hummed. "No more." You could hear his smile as he answered to you.

"That's good."

I know we saw too little of him on this chapter, but don't you worry cause next one will have lots.

[thewomanwhoboughttheworld]

I reckon it is widely accepted that Crowley and Freddie Mercury were, at the very least, besties, sometimes lovers, sometimes had a fling or dated. But I have feelings and headcanons nobody asked for that I have to share.

They met while Freddie was still in college. Freddie saw Crowley, drew a quick sketch of him and got up and gave it to Crowley. "I promise I will draw you a better one, dear." He never did, but Crowley still keeps the drawing and miracled it to always look like just made.

Crowley never really liked Mary Austin. He didn't like her when she was Freddie's girlfriend and always found a way to inconvenience her. He still doesn't like her, especially after she put Freddie's belongings up for auction. He liked Jim Hutton, however.

Freddie kissed Crowley first. It was after a rehearsal of one of Freddie's early bands, Crowley was giving him his feedback. Freddie just leaned in and kissed him. He avoided the demon for the following two weeks as he was confused (he still hadn't realised he liked boys) and felt embarrassed.

Even though they were both adamant that there were no feelings involved, they both deeply cared for each other. Neither would admit it, saying they were only friends who (more than) occasionally hooked up, but they both knew there was more. However, Freddie fell a bit harder even though he knew Crowley wasn't in love with him. It did hurt a bit, but he was eventually fine with it.

Freddie actually knew about Crowley and Aziraphale being a demon and an angel. Crowley told him one night while they were both drunk and then Freddie remembered and asked him. Crowley tried to deny it, but Freddie insisted so much that in the end, he decided to tell him everything as he knew Freddie wouldn't tell anybody. And he never did, he treated this like his own secret.

The first time Freddie saw Crowley's eyes, Crowley thought he would be scared. But Freddie just said: "I know they're snake eyes, but they remind me of my cats. And what a lovely colour, darling. Yellow's my favourite, you know?".

Crowley ranted A LOT about Aziraphale to Freddie. He was always going on about how much he hated his being a goody-two-shoes, how infuriating his constant reminding him that he was actually a good person and how the fuck can 6000 years be too fast? Freddie just smiled because he knew. He could see how much Crowley loved that angel. It broke his own heart, because he knew he could never be loved that much, but never said a word.

Freddie did write a lot of songs about Crowley and Aziraphale. Obviously Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, but also Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Somebody to Love and many more. Spread Your Wings is specifically about Crowley and he knew. But what Freddie would never tell anyone, a secret that he brought to the tomb with him, is that he wrote Love of My Life and You Take my Breath Away for him. (told you that Freddie was in love, my poor baby suffered too much in his life).

Freddie taught Crowley how to play the piano.

Crowley auctioned for some of Freddie's belongings. He got some kimonos, some handwritten sheets and his piano. He couldn't let anyone else have it.

Crowley never really left Freddie's side. He was always that mysterious, dark and handsome man showing up especially when Freddie needed someone. People eventually accepted it as part of Freddie's charm as he was always so secretive about his personal life.

Freddie let himself be vulnerable only around Crowley. Just as Crowley took off his glasses with him, Freddie allowed himself to cry only those times in which they were alone. He cried in Crowley's arms so much when his illness was worsening, when he was scared of how much he would have suffered. One night it got so bad that Freddie was basically begging Crowley to end his suffering and Crowley had to perform a miracle so that he could sleep. Neither brought it up ever again.

When Freddie died, Crowley was there with him. He gave Freddie just enough life to allow him to say some words. "You promised me you wouldn't come," Freddie told him. "I'm a demon, I lied" replied Crowley with a broken voice. He then sat on the bed and stayed with him until the very last moment. Aziraphale was there too. He followed Crowley without telling him because he felt he needed him. Aziraphale took away Freddie's suffering so that he could go without pain.

That same night, Aziraphale tried to persuade Crowley to stay at his library because he thought Crowley needed a friend. Crowley refused, hopped on his Bentley and drove away. He parked in front of his apartment building and found a used packet of cigarettes and an old pair of sunglasses that belonged to Freddie in his car. As the radio passed Love of my life, he couldn't hold it anymore and burst into tears. He cried hard, really hard. He felt a familiar hand on his back but didn't look and didn't ask. Aziraphale never said anything either and didn't leave until Crowley stopped crying but before he could be seen. He remembered how much it hurt and didn't want Crowley to grieve alone.

Master post: here

[starzioo]

𝐁.𝐙 ❦ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒?

This is pt.1 of my 4pt series. The next part will be posted a few mins after this!! I need need to quickly edit some things! This is a pretty long one and it took me AGES. Sorry if the plot carries on for too long, I rlly tried here. :,)

No warnings just fluff!

==========

You're a 6th year Ravenclaw dating Draco Malfoy. You aren't the stereotypical Ravenclaw, although you are academically smart, you were extremely street smart. You and Blaise have been friends since your 2nd year at Hogwarts. You two are close, but you grew apart after you started dating Draco.

THIRD PERSON:

Blaise, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle are all sitting in the Slytherin common room. "Pansy is so fine...I think i'm gonna try to get with her..." Draco says as he sits on the couch. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" Goyle says laughing. Blaise sits on the chair across from Draco, glaring. "I mean...who said I can't have two girlfriends?" Draco says smugly. "I don't know man, that seems kinda wrong, and plus aren't Y/n and Pansy friends?" Crabbe says eating a muffin. "Well, I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart...and if she can't figure out what i'm doing then maybe that's just a personal problem for Y/n." Draco says shrugging. "You know that she will find out eventually? I've known her since 2nd year trust me...when she finds out, you'll be sorry." Blaise says with a dead tone to his voice. "Well..I'm gonna go to sleep see you guys tomorrow..." Blaise says as he walks to his dorm. "What's his problem?" Draco asks scoffing. "Well they have been friends for a while now, I mean i wouldn't be surprised if he told Y/n..." Goyle says shrugging. "Let's just hope he knows better." Draco says dead tones.

TIME SKIP : 2 WEEKS LATER IN YOUR DORM

You and Cho share a dorm.

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

"Cho...I got a question." You say as you roll to lay on your stomach. "Hm?" she says looking up from her sketch pad. "Do you think Draco actually likes me? I mean...like I know we've been dating for 7 months now but these last couple of weeks it's been different. I mean he doesn't even sit by me in charms anymore." You say resting your head on your hand. "Well...I know for sure when you guys first started dating that he liked you. I mean you two were inseparable...he was even trying to find a way into our common room." she laughs "but I just feel like he'a losing feelings..." you say flipping through pictures of you and Draco. "I don't wanna hurt your feelings Y/n..." Cho says turning around in her desk chair. "It's okay...I kinda already know your answer anyways." You say lightly smiling. "He's a player...he's known for liking a girl for a couple months then getting bored of them. I wouldn't be surprised if he's already found another girl. He just isn't a good person or boyfriend. I don't see what you see in him. You're such a sweet girl and if I was you I would be with someone whose not as vile and repulsive as him....but that's just me." Cho says closing her sketchbook. "I'm gonna go to sleep now and just let you think about what I said." she says getting tucked into her blue silk comforter. "Ok...thank you for everything Cho...goodnight." you says giving her a warm smile. "Goodnight Y/n, sleep well..." Cho says as she turns over.

You couldn't go to sleep that night. Cho's words stuck in your head. All night all you could think about was the fact that the boy you loved could be cheating on you. Everything you done for the past 7 months had been for Draco. All of it, your entire life, was Draco. You changed so many things about yourself just to fit his needs. You quite quidditch so you could go to his games. You spent your spring break with Draco in France, instead of visiting your mom in Spain. You even cut off Blaise...your best friend since 2nd year. A man that understood your emotions and thoughts. The only person who knows why you love astronomy, the only person who knows why you cover your face when you laugh, the only person who really knows why you love hugs so much. Blaise was the only person you had told such personal things to. Stuff about you that's so sentimental you didn't even tell Draco. You had never realized how much of your life was revolved around his happiness. You were giving your all into a boy that was giving you nothing in return.

THE NEXT DAY

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

"Y/n! Y/n! Wake up! Its 8:45! You're gonna be late for charms class!" Cho says shaking you awake. "OH SHIT!" you say springing up from your bed. "Thank you so much for waking me up Cho!" You say as you frantically run to your vanity. Then you look down at your wrist watch.

𝟞:𝟛𝟘♥AM

"Ha.Ha. Very funny Cho." You say turning around in your chair sarcastically clapping your hands. "Did you really think I wouldn't wake you on time?" She says lightly laughing. "Thank youu, you know that I appreciate it." you say as you start taking your hair out of its curlers. "Perfecto~" you say when you see the first curl in your hair. "Cho you know what that means...perfect hair day equals a perfect day over all!" "Yeah yeah well last time I heard that phrase you fell in a puddle" Cho says giggling. "Yeah, but after I fell in that puddle I cast a perfect Patronus charm." You remarked as you continued getting ready for the day by doing you're skin care and makeup. Then putting on your gold earrings and necklace. "Hey Y/n, I think we should head out now if we wanna make it to breakfast in time to eat?" Cho questioned. "Yeah, ok, just give me a second I gotta get my charm bracelet on." As you are putting on your bracelet you remember that Blaise was the one who bought you it, in your 4th year.

FLASH BACK

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

That day Blaise had asked you if you wanted to go to Diagon alley with him to go shopping. You and him had wandered around the alley going into every shop looking at brooms, sweaters, shoes, but most importantly you both went into a jewelry boutique. You and Blaise looked around until you came across a gold charm bracelet that had a dark blue diamond butterfly charm. "Ouuu, Blaise look at this bracelet!" you said as he wandered back over to you. You looked at the bracelet in awe;while as Blaise looked at you in awe of your beauty. "Uhm excuse me? How much is this charm bracelet?" You asked the worker who stood behind the counter. "I don't think you kids would be interested in that one...It's 80 galleons." The worker says looking at you two with pity. "Hey Blaise I think we should get back to Hogwarts...it's getting late anyways." you said bummed out. "Yeah...you can head back without me there's a couple of things I still have to take care of down here." Blaise said softly. "Okayyy, be safe though on your way back okay?" You said as you walked out of the store. When you were about to walk back into the common room you heard Blaise yell "Y/N! Wait!" You turn around to see Blaise running up to you. "Shhhh! You're gonna get us in trouble!" you whisper yell at him. "Okay okay! But I got you something..." He says as he pulls the gold charm bracelet out of his back pocket. You gasp "BLAISE! REALLY?! AHHH YOU DIDNTT" "Shhhhh!" he says covering your mouth with his hand. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" you exclaim ingulfing him in a hug. "You're welcome, now go to sleep. You should've already been in bed." Blaise said smiling. You went to sleep that night thinking that Blaise bought the bracelet. Blaise went to sleep that night knowing he stole it. But it just so happens that, that day was a good hair day.

END OF FLASH BACK

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

"Y/n!" Cho says waving her hand in front of your face. You finally snap out of your thoughts. "Geez you zoned out for like 30 seconds!" Cho says mildly worried. "Heheh, sorry I didn't realize" you say finishing putting on your bracelet.

TIME SKIP TO CHARMS CLASS

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

As you walk into charms class, you sit in your regular seat. You see Draco walk in, he looks at you, then walks to sit on the other side of the classroom. Although there was no actual assigned seats in Charms Class Draco had sat by you in every class you've had up until now. Instead of sitting by his girlfriend he decides to sit by Pansy? You were on your final straw with the way Draco had been treating you. All you can feel is your throat starting to burn. All you could do was stare at him conversating with Pansy. You wanted to get up and slap him across the face but for some reason your body stayed in the same place; you couldn't bring yourself to do it. As you continue to get lost in your thoughts, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A familiar aroma surrounds you - the smell of red wine, a almost musky scent - "Are you okay?" a low voice asks you. You look up to see Blaise. You take a moment to fully realize it's him. "Yeah...sorry I guess I just zoned out for a second.." you say slightly embarrassed. "I noticed" he says lightly laughing; he sits down next to you. You and Blaise sit in a comfortable silence and Professor Flitwick teaches the class how to cast a Auguamenti charm; the spell to make water. Everyone was working in partners. While Blaise was working on casting the charm, you couldn't help but stare at Draco trying to flirt with Pansy. "Y/n, it's your turn to try casting the charm." Blaise says monotonously; he takes the bowl and places it in-front of you. With a flick of your hand you cast the charm nearly perfect. "Wow! Miss. Y/L/N , perfect! Nothing less than what I would expect from my star student!" Professor Flitwick says happily. "You and your partner may have the rest of class off!" He says making a arm jester to the door. As you're heading out of the classroom you feel Draco's eyes staring at you. "Hey... wanna go chill in the court yard or something?" Blaise says nodding his head in the direction of the court yard. "Mmmm, Sure..." you say smiling lightly. When you and Blaise sit down on one of the stone benches he turns to you like he has something to say, "Can I talk to you about something real quick?" Blaise says with a unsure look in his eyes. "Mhm, of course" you say curiously. "I feel like we've uhm grown apart I guess...we used to be best friends but now I feel like we don't even talk to each other, you know? I don't know...we've just been friends for so long and I uhm.... i just don't wanna lose you...I guess what i'm trying to say is that I miss you, I miss talking to you, I miss sneaking around the castle late at night, I miss going to Hogsmeade with you, I just miss everything about our friendship." Blaise says avoiding eye contact with you. "Blaise i'm so sorry" you say feeling a tight burning sensation in the bottom of your throat, you feel the tears building up in your eyes. It was rare for Blaise to open up like that; he has a habit of keeping his feelings tucked away. You hug Blaise, your arms around his neck; with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He hugs you back. "I'm so sorry Blaise...Draco said he didn't feel comfortable with me being around you so much...I should've never let it go this far..." You say with tears rolling down your face. "It's okay. I figured it was something along those lines." He says un wrapping his arms from you. He wipes a tear off your cheek with his thumb. You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. "Hey Y/N there's one more thing I need to tell you." Blaise says. "Hm?" You say keeping your head on his shoulder. He pauses. "Draco...he's cheating on you...or atleast he's trying to. About two weeks ago he was saying some dumb shit about how he's gonna go after Pansy." He says dead toned. "I know..."

=========

I reached the max character limit oml. T.T

[resident-gay-bitch]

🦇 Stranger Saturdays 🦇

Will x Mike (Byler) cute getting together (3k words)

“Hey, what are you drawing?” Mike asked, almost falling out of the chair he was swinging on to get a good look at the page Will was entirely focused on. 

“None of your business, nosey.” Will scoffed, turning his page even further from Mike's view. But he glanced up, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a soft look on his face, considering Mike for just a moment before turning back to his drawing. 

Mike felt himself blush at the fleeting attention. Mike always feels a little flustered with Will's attention, and it was only recently that he became aware as to why. 

It took El dumping him, which was not the best feeling. Getting dumped, whether one actually has feelings for their girlfriend or not, will always be a punch to the gut… and the ego. 

It was when Mike was complaining to Lucas about it later that things started clicking into place. 

You don’t love me, She said, You spend more time looking at your best friend than you do at me. 

Why don’t you call me as much as you call Will? 

When we were both hurt, you went to Will first! 

It took Lucas actually slapping him around the head to get it. To get why. 

And it’s infuriating; knowing that you’re in love with your best friend, that is. Mike was very happy being completely ignorant to the fact, thank you very much. At least then he could be a little bit soppy without feeling like he’s gonna be crowned town pariah. 

Besides, it’s agonising, wondering if his feelings could possibly be reciprocated. But he doubts the fact. The chances of Will being queer in this small town too are already slim, and the chance of him loving Mike, out of everyone else? Well, that's even slimmer. 

Lucas is a far better option. 

Hell, even Dustin! 

Even Steve, and that’s really saying something, because Steve is annoying as all hell and a total loser. 

But sometimes… sometimes it feels like… Sometimes Mike gets his hopes up, and it’s like a little spark in his chest that's fighting to not blow out. He never wants that spark to die. 

He blows a raspberry at Will and brings his chair back down to four feet, playing off his stumble very cool-ly so the teacher doesn’t take his chair away from him again. He gets told about some made up kid that swung on his chair, cracked his head open and died, at least once a week these days. 

“You don’t have to see everything I draw.” Will comments after a while, sensing Mike's blatant disappointment with the fact. 

He loves how easily Will can read him. 

Though, he’s sure his dramatic sighs and groans are obvious enough for anyone to read at this current moment. But in a more general sense, even when Mike is adamant on keeping his emotions on lock. Wills just… he’s got this way about him; an internal compass that points directly at Mike's moody feelings and gives him step by step instructions on how to cheer him up. 

“But I like everything you draw.” Mike sighs, leans a hand on his chin as he melts onto the desk, neglecting his work completely. 

“Well, you can like everything else. This is just for me.” Will says, attention completely on the page again and Mike has never been jealous of paper, but suddenly, he is. 

“I can never see it?” Mike pouts, “Not even when it’s done?”

“Nope.” Will shakes his head, keeps sketching. 

“Why not?” Mike asks, nosey, nosey, always nosey when it comes to Will Byers. 

“Because…” Will sighs, stops for a moment to glance up at Mike before his attention is gone again, “It’s embarrassing. It’s… it’s stupid, okay, it’s just for my own practice and enjoyment. It’s not even good.” 

“I’m sure it’s great–”

“Whatever.” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, “I’m too embarrassed to show you, so leave it alone. Maybe when were thirty.”

“You better keep it ‘till we’re thirty then.” Mike huffed, laying his upper body flat on the desk now in a dramatic display of boredom, “Can’t believe you won’t show me. I thought we were best friends, I saw your butt once, nothings embarrassing–”

“You didn’t mean to see my butt!” Will laughed, “Stop using that as an argument for everything.” 

“Sorry.” Mike groaned, poking his tongue out, “I just want to see your art.”

“I’ll draw something else to show you later.” 

Mike blew another raspberry, and Will completely ignored him. This feels similar to torture, for Mike. He’s not sure what to do with himself, when Will ignores him. No matter how many fart noises he makes, how many bad jokes he cracks, no matter how much he wails and wiggles around, Will just ignores him. Barely even laughs!

And Mike feels utterly betrayed by this, and maybe a little heartbroken. He lives for Will's attention, and more importantly his happiness, and most importantly his affection. And in this current moment, Will is refusing Mike all of those pleasures. 

And he’s too embarrassed to show Mike his drawing. Which is insane, because it’s probably something cool like a freaky weird dragon, or The Party going to battle or something. 

Or maybe it’s something creepy and haunted. Will does that sometimes, draws his nightmares, the pictures getting more and more graphic as he ages. And he tends to not show Mike those, so Mike doesn’t have to worry about them. But Mike always finds out, and he worries anyway, because he just wants the best for Will. Wants to make everything better, or as good as he can. 

He only hopes to bring Will half as much comfort as Will brings him. 

“William.” The teacher calls, peering down her glasses and waving him over with a finger, “I have a question about your essay.”

Will glances over at Mike and pulls a sour face before hopping up. Mike gives him a sympathetic smile, hopes Will doesn’t get detention or anything. Though, it would be funny since he’s the only one out of the Party who hasn’t gotten a detention yet. Somehow. 

Mike watches them, as Will pulls up a chair with a little annoyance. And Mike feels that annoyance even more, because that means Will is going to be up there, and away from Mike for a while. And Mike already misses him. 

Boredom gets even worse, and Mikes got this bad feeling stirring in his gut. He’s desperate to know what Will's drawing. What he’s so embarrassed about. And he knows it’s bad, knows it’s a boundary to peek, but Will has never kept a drawing from Mike before. Not really. 

Sure he’s chosen not to show things to Mike, but if asked, he’ll share. He’s never denied Mike the ability to awe over his best friend's work. 

So, when he’s not looking, Mike leans over in his chair until there's only one leg of it on the ground. 

He’s wobbling, one hand on the corner of Wills desk to attempt to help support him, his tongue strategically poked out of his mouth, and he’s glancing over at them every couple of seconds to make sure he’s not going to get caught. 

And with his middle finger, he’s able to carefully lift the corner of the closed page to catch a tiny peak. 

But he can’t quite make it out, so he dares a glance to the front, and lifts the closed page higher. 

He furrows his brow, because he’s sure he’s seeing things– Or, he’s not quite sure what he’s seeing at all. 

He stretches his arm as far as he can to open the page almost ninety-degrees, and staring up at him, coloured fully in vibrant pencil, is a portrait. 

A portrait of Mike. 

And it’s… wow, it’s amazing. 

Mike has never thought he was all that good looking, but this drawing really does him a good justice. And his hair looks fucking great. 

The portraits got every one of his freckles, his dimples, the smiling wrinkles of his eyes. Behind him is golden and warm, cast in beams of light that set him centre stage, making him look almost godly. Makes it seem like he’s actually something worth looking at. 

And when his eyes fix on the little hearts floating around his head, and the scribble of “Mr. Will Wheeler” down the bottom, Mike falls out of his chair. 

He splats down on the ground with a clatter, his chair somehow bouncing off the ground and landing on his back, ow. 

“Mike Wheeler! How many times have I told you not to swing in your chair?” The teacher bellows for probably the millionth time. 

Mike just groans in response, this is humiliating. He’s never fallen out of his chair before. And to do so in front of his whole class? Humiliating. 

He can hear Max somewhere in the classroom laughing her ass off. Total trator. 

“Detention. Now!” 

Mike rolled his eyes and got himself to his feet, collected his things and headed towards the front of the class. Not without a sparse glance at the sketchbook again, now closed, thankfully. But Mike knows what’s nestled within. 

As he walks to the teacher, to collect his detention slip, Will shakes his head laughing. He seems relaxed, which means he didn’t see Mike peaking, which is good for now, since they can’t talk about it. 

Shit. 

They have to talk about it. 

In haste, Mike collects his detention slip and races out of the room. He obviously doesn’t go to detention, instead he ditches school and skates around town because he’s freaking out and this is the only way he can think to pass the time and calm down. His moms probably gonna kill him, but whatever.  

Mr. Will Wheeler. 

Mike's heart is in his throat and his hands are trembling and he’s sweating and riddled with nerves. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. 

Mr. Will Wheeler. 

This is… everything. 

He’s spent so long skating around and rambling in his own head about what to do, he didn’t realise school had gotten out. He only realised when the sun began to tint the sky orange and warm, casting Hawkins in a golden glow that made something once drabby into something worth looking at, just for a moment. And Mike thinks about the portrait. 

And he thinks about it. 

And he thinks about it. All the way to the Byers house. All the way to Will's bedroom window, which he climbs through without knocking. 

“What are you doing?” Will asks, a hand to his chest from the spook Mike caused. He almost dropped his cup of soda, sitting it down on his desk, flicking his sketchbook closed before Mike's eyes could pry, he thinks, “Where'd you go after English? Are you okay, you seem off?” 

Mike shook his head, sets his skateboard down under the window, drops his backpack, “I saw your drawing.”

Will's face turned ghostly white, “What?” 

“I looked.” Mike said plainly, almost lost of breath completely. Who knew talking to the guy he loved, knowing he felt somewhat the same, would be so breathtaking, “I’m sorry, but I looked. I saw what you drew… what you wrote.” 

“Fuck– Mike, I’m– I–” Will began to stutter, slowly trying to back away before he collided hip to his desk, “I’m so sorry, please don’t–”

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Mike said, very still in place, “That okay?”

“That– What?” Will asked, cherry red now, clearly as terrified as Mike was. 

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Mike said again, nodding to help convince himself to actually do it. To kiss him. To kiss Will. 

“You’re…”

Mike nodded one more time before charging forward, grabbing Will by the face, and kissing him. 

Will definitely didn’t pull away. 

In fact, he grabbed Mike back, pulling him closer and closer. And this… this is that fairytale shit in all of Holly's story books. This has got to be true love, or something. 

It’s gotta be. 

“Honey, I’ve got– Oh!” 

The both of them split apart all too fast as the door swung wide open, Joyce standing in it, staring at them both. Mike is about to freak out. 

“I’ve been waiting for this to happen– keep the door open, please. Are you staying for dinner, honey? We're having meatloaf.” 

Neither of the boys answered for a long while. Clearly just as confused as the other. It took Joyce shaking her head at them, confused, to jolt Mike into action. 

“What?” He asked, stuttering it out. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” 

“Uh… S-sure.” Mike said, because he’s not very good at saying no to Joyce these days. 

“Okay, can you two set the table for me then?” 

Mike and Will were still stuck standing in place, each a little worried to move. Mikes a little worried that the moment he does move, Will will take all of that back. 

“Hello?” Joyce said, now standing with her hands on her hips, “What is with you two today– is it because I walked in on you kissing, because I’ve seen worse, you don’t wanna know the things I’ve walked in on Jon doing–”

“Ew, mom.” Will scoffed. 

Joyce laughed, walking over into the room to tidy up Will's bed, “Don’t worry about me. Anyway, dinner will be ready in ten, so come out quickly.” 

“Okay, mom, can you please…”

“You’re okay with it?” Mike asked, terribly pale in the face. 

Joyce froze, turning her head to look at him for a moment, considering the pair. With a sigh she wandered over, her soft hand on his cheek, and she has to look up at him now– at both of them. She keeps going on about how they have to stop growing so fast. 

“Honey, all I want for my boys is happiness.” She smiled, leant up to press a little kiss to his cheek, “I’ve known about this for a long time, longer than you, I’m guessing. I’m surprised Will didn’t tell you that we’re okay with this around here. And don’t worry, I won’t tell your mom anything you don’t want me to.” She said with a wink, turning and leaving the room. 

“Ten minutes.” She called, as if she hadn’t just said the most meaningful thing she’s ever said to Mike, “Jon, El! Dinner’s almost ready, come help your brother and his boyfriend set the table.” 

Mikes heart is in his throat. 

“Boyfriend?” Came three consecutive shouts throughout the house. 

Beside him, Will groaned, shuffled over to his bed where he flopped down face first into it, “This is mortifying.” 

“Mortifying?” Mike scoffed, “Your mom just told your whole family we were in a relationship before we even agreed on a relationship!”

Will turned his head, peaking one eye up at Mike, “But… we’re… we’re in a relationship?”

Mike could feel his cheeks burning up, and he’s sure he looks stupid, blushing this much. But it can’t really be helped after kissing the boy he loves, and with the prospect of more. 

Mike nodded his head, and Will turned back into his bedsheets. The two of them stayed like that for a moment, equally as nervous, equally as awkward. They were only torn out of the best new seconds of the rest of Mike's life when they heard Hopper shout out from the kitchen. 

“Not Mike again!”

On the bed, Will broke out in hysterics. 

“He hates me.” Mike muttered. 

Rolling onto his back, Will smiled, reaching a hand out for Mike. And when he took it, his hand felt like it was burning, sparks flying everywhere. Will's hand is so soft and warm, and Mike doesn’t want to ever let go. He lets himself be dragged over towards the bed. 

“Yes, he does.” Will says through laughter, “But he's just gonna have to put up with that.” 

Before Mike could get another word in, Will yanked him down onto the bed, Mike toppling over on top of him. And they were kissing again. 

And Mike never wants to leave this moment. He’s sure this is the best thing he’s ever done, other than asking Will to be his friend that day on the swing sets. 

He can’t wait for the rest of their lives. 

ive never written byler before so this was fun yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i think they're so sweet and i cant wait for them to become cannon in season 5 :)

ive been rooting for them sincei was 14 and watching season 1 when it first came out and thinking oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck they remind me of myself and my best friend oh fuck does this make me gay too?

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖐𝖘

Billy burn x gender neutral reader

There has been lately a Billy fever on tumblr and I’ll take the opportunity to post this little though that came to my mind a week ago ｡^‿^｡ Thank you for all the likes and reblogs on my Derek danforth fic, I really appreciate it.

Summary: Billy has taken his revenge on Melinda and escaped safely the gas station before it could explode, but he wasn’t expecting the police to be there shortly after the explosion. Now behind the bars of a police station all he can do is hope for your help.

You can also read this on wattpad or ao3

Warnings: gender neutral reader (let me know if I missed something). English is not my first language so apologies for bad grammar. Reader and Billy are engaged. Make out. Angst with happy ending. Pretending to argue. Badass reader

Words count: 1621 words

The room of the police station was cold and neon-lit. With your eyes swollen from crying, you sat in front of the policeman. His heart sank as he tried to find the right words.

“You were the only person he said he wanted to be here. He has been arrested for attempted robbery at a gas station. What’s your relationship with the criminal?”

“He's my husband. They arrested him for attempted robbery? I can't believe it.”

“Calm down, please. This is the first time that he has been arrested?”

“No” you sobbed with a tissue covering your mouth. “He promised me that it would have been the last time he would do something illegal”

The deputy took notes, his face serious.

“What exactly happened? How was he involved? Did he hurt someone?”

“We are still investigating the matter, your husband still hasn’t talked to me and all we have is just a gas station completely on fire and two carbonized corpses. We will do everything we can to find out the truth.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that kept spilling from your eyes.

The deputy passed a hand over his shapid beard. He had seen so many similar stories, young lives destroyed by drugs and crime. But you looked different. Your eyes were full of innocence and hope, and his pale face was marked with sadness.

“I understand it’s hard to accept,” He said. “But we have to do our job. Billy will be tried and will have a chance to defend himself. In the meantime, we will try to find out if there are other people involved.”

You stood up, your legs wobbly. “Can I see him? Can I talk to him?”

The deputy nodded. “Yes, of course. He is in the detention cell. Don’t stand too close to the bars.” Was all he said before going back to his computer.

Deputy Colone is hunched over his desk, doing what he hates most, filling out reports. All his colleagues out while he was forced to stay here to fill out paperwork. He glances up at Billy, then over at you. Satisfied, he returns to his shitwork.

Seated across the room, you appears to be idly sketching something on a large pad present on the desk.

Billy sits on his jail’s cot, head in hands, hopeless.

He waves for your attention.

You looks up at the deputy, still writing on the desk, then over at Billy.

“You’re not gonna pay the bail?” He whispered with a hint of impatience, his right leg bouncing up and down as he kept stealing glances at the deputy.

“So you can do another impulsive act and get caught again?”

The little control he has over his anger is already running out.

Billy gets up off his cot, pacing back and forth inside the small cage stressed over your behavior. He eyes the deputy, then you. You flips a page over, and starts to really write.

“What are ya drawin’?”

The deputy looks up, irritated by the noise and by how he kept treating you.

Billy grabs the cell bars and lean against them.

“Hey, pipe down, cowboy”

“I was just curious about what they were drawing”

You holds it up for Billy to see.

“There. Happy now?”

You throws the sketch pad at him, crossing your arms while looking down at the floor. It bounces off the bars.

He reaches down, grabs it, and pulls it into his cell.

You stands up defiantly as he read everything. Wrath more and more visible all over his face.

“Okay, give it back to me” you extended your hand impatiently.

“Why you wanna sell your engagement ring?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Simple, I can’t stand you anymore! This is the umpteenth time you do things behind my back and make trouble. This time it was for an attempted robbery. And you know what? I’m so done with your bullshit”

“So you just wanna leave everything behind you? Sell the wedding ring?”

“Why do you even give that much importance to it? Billy, it’s just a piece of metal with a diamond that you stole! I don’t want to be associated with all of this anymore!”

He squeezed his fists, trying not to completely explode with anger, refusing to speak with you.

You stood up from your seat and approached him, taking the shining and beautiful ring he choose only for you. “And what does it represent now? A man who can’t keep himself out of trouble? I don’t want to be tied to you this way anymore. When there’s always a chance that I could find you dead because you messed with the wrong people in search of money. I want to sell that faith and use the money to start over”

“Okay fine. Do as you fucking wish” he took the piece of metal around his own finger. “Come and get it, so I won’t see your face ever again.” His raised a fist and crashed it agaist the bar. “But remember that it’s not just a piece of metal. It’s a fucking symbol of what we were and what we could be, but you’re too much of a fucking idiot to realize that” It’s a cry of anger the one he unleashed, lacerating and wild, hovering in the air, like a swooping hawk.

The deputy is really getting pissed at the constant shouting.

“Bastard, if you don’t stop yellin-“ he stood up from his seat.

You were already in front of the cell. you reaches through the bars for the ring.

“Finally you made a good decision in your life. Give it to me, idiot”

He grabs your arm, pulls you to the bars, and starts kissing you passionately. The more you struggles, the tighter he envelops you.

Your eyes close, and your lips never separate. The kiss is hungry, passionate, and the world around you two fades. You gets lost in Billy’s kisses, and your heart beats hard in your chest. It’s like time stands still, and all that matters is that connection between the two of you. Your lips only separate for a moment to catch a quick breath, only to come back together with even more desire.

The deputy races across the room. Awkwardly, he grapples to separate you two. He rudely detach Billy’s hand from your waist before shoving him away.

Your hand secretly reaches down and pulls the gun from the deputy’s holster.

As he turns to face you, a red laser dot appears on the tip of his nose.

He is shocked.

“Let him out of there.”

You point the laser-scoped revolver right at him. You definitely means business. All the innocence that you previously had now vanished, replaced by a smirk he saw on many criminals’ faces.

The suddenness of the betrayal hits like a physical blow.

Even the most beautiful roses have thorns.

Bully chuckles in disbelief from behind him.

“Hey, don’t clown around with th-“ the deputy tries to take back control of the situation but the click of the security being removed silenced him. Fear grips his chest.

You did just as your lovely husband has taught you, and kept holding the gun dead-steady.

“I ain’t the one with the funny red nose. Now open the cell and exchange places with him” .you put your finger on the trigger. “Now”

Billy had a huge grin of satisfaction on his face, enjoying this too deeply

that’s my good boy

“Better do as they says, ‘cause wherever the red dot goes, a bullet is sure to follow.”

The deputy reluctantly removes his keys and turns toward Billy.

The rusty door opens, creaking loudly as it is set to 90 degrees, enough to allow Billy out. A cocky grin on his face as he steps outside and shoved the useless deputy inside but not before confiscating his radio.

You lowered the gun and went back towards the office to delete all the files that the deputy has written about the arrest of your husband, the computer still open. You tore apart the reports and heard the satisfying sound of paper behind disintegrate and deleted all the recording made by the cameras in the last 24 hours.

A small yell of surprise came from your lips as you were lifted from the ground and landed on the desk in front of you, the culprit had already his arms around you and 2 new guns on both of his sides as he stared lustily at you mouth.

“You never stop surprising me” your foreheads were touching and you felt his warm breath on your face.

“I’ve always been a fan of masks” You replied breathlessly, caressing the side of his cheek and feeling the pungent feeling of his stubble under your touch.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Billy leaned in close, lips brushing together. His lips mashed against yours, as if trying to flatten and destroy your mouth. You hungrily pushed back, your mouth open, tongue pushing past his clenched teeth to the moist space within. The bristles of his stubble scratched against your cheeks. He worked his mouth against yours, your tongues battling back and forth like wrestlers, each trying to pin the other.

“Quick now. Let’s run away in another state” you lightly pushed him away, ignoring his small whine as you jumped back on your feet and went towards the exit of this stupid police office.

He checked you out with a smirk as he followed behind you, a plan of how he could show his gratitude to you already in his mind.

Note: hope you liked this as much as I had fun writing everything <3

[hoffmanushka]

Pov: where Gideon was born after all, and all of Kramer's assistants are close friends.

Jill Kramer gave birth to a beautiful boy, just as John had imagined, for whom everything was always planned out on the shelves.

The baby was developing as expected for his age, and when John finally allowed him to come to them, Amanda and Hoffman were there almost immediately, but Gordon came only in the evening, because he was detained in the hospital, work was everything to him.

Mark:

Mark was always cruel to everyone, but the younger Kramer was different, he could even ride him in his arms, allowing him more than anyone else. In the baby, he saw his younger sister Angelina, whom he could not save, but he would do everything so that baby Gideon was alive and happy.

➖➖

Angelina was killed by her own boyfriend and as soon as Hoffman found out about it, he immediately rushed to the crime scene. The girl was dying in his arms, and while Mark was screaming in despair, he swore that he would avenge his sister and protect baby Gideon by all means, even if he had to give his life for the baby.

➖➖

While the baby was riding in Hoffman's arms, Amanda came and brought him toys created according to John's own designs.

Amanda:

The baby crawled up to the girl and climbed into her arms, contentedly clapping his hands and hugging Miss Young, carefully lifting his hands to the girl's face, kissing her with his little lips, after which the girl's face immediately turned red and the baby laughed again.

➖➖

The girl loved to hurt herself, and when she once again raised a knife to herself, baby Gideon crawled into the room.

-ow!)

The baby, who was crawling towards his beloved aunt, said contentedly. Seeing the baby, she immediately removed the blade and took the little one in her arms.

He stretched his paws to the girl's injured hand and immediately burst into tears when he saw the wounds on the girl, he was very scared for her.

She immediately hugged the boy to herself, and a pleasant heat passed through her body, because no one had ever worried about her like this little bundle of joy, born in a happy and strong marriage.

After that day, she, like Hoffman, swore that she would never let anyone hurt the younger Kramer.

➖➖

In the evening, Gordon and Jill arrived, John brought them both, because their hospitals were nearby.

Lawrence conducted another examination of John and, fortunately for the Kramer family, the man turned out to be operable and his operation will take place in the coming days, it will be performed by Gordon himself and Lynn Denlon.

A couple of weeks later, the operation was performed and Kramer was sent home, where everyone met him and had a nice family evening, surrounded by his closest friends.

All the difficulties are behind us and now we can enjoy a quiet and peaceful LIFE.

A cute sketch about my loved ones, but they are finally doing well.

Enjoy reading💕

[yutopia-eleftheria]

Shehroz Peony Rose & Ewan Draggoun Headcanons

I decided to do some sketches, and at the same time headcanons for them, since it was Shehroz's birthday on September 26th in my AU. Also Ewan is my cousin and it is his Pokémon Sword OC (and his birthday is on September 25th), and when the game came out, we created some scenarios with his OC and the chairman.7 (and we had so much fun doing it !)♥

Almost 5 years after the game's release, I finally decided to draw some of the moments and talk about the story we created, in the form of headcanons.

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

Some sketches :

From painful and sad to funny sketches ! (Yeah we had all kinds of stories and emotions in this)

Sketch 1 :

When Ethernatos (Eternatus) broke out from his shell, it actually created some sort of slight explosions of its "needles", and Shehroz was actually hit by 3 of them, but he didn't notice as it doesn't hurt instantly.

He turned himself in after the whole incident, and he got to jail literally for a day, as he was charged for doing works for Galar, just like Liv Oleana.

3 days after the incident, when he was heading back to Rose Tower alongside the young man to see about the infamous battle tower led by Tarak Landon (Leon), Shehroz felt dizzy and suddenly collapsed.

That's where they noticed the poisonous needles on his body. They had to act quickly otherwise that would led him to his demise.

Ewan managed to take them all out with the help of Tarak and Sonya, but it was more and more painful as each was taken away. Which is why he was bleeding a little from his mouth and nose.

Sketch 2 :

He stayed unconscious for a few days and was constantly checked by everyone. Ewan eventually told Liv about what happened (and Shehroz was like : "Why did you tell her ?..." when he was awake.)

Oh ! And also : he doesn't remember anything about what happened as a side effect.

Even though his "coma state" only lasted a few days, he was still too weak to do anything, so he had to stay in bed for around 2 more weeks before fully healing.

Such a thing happening all of a sudden made Ewan realized that he needs to live his life to its fullest, because you never know when you could possibly leave this World...

Shehroz is so thankful to Ewan that he is like giving him everything he can, and helps him out with everything.

Sketch 3 :

Their relationship is getting better and better as time goes by. And Ewan is actually protective over Shehroz as well.

Ewan became a member of Macro Cosmos. He is considered the third biggest figure of the brand.

Sometimes it's Ewan that accompanies Shehroz around, so someone could stay at the tower to work. He and Liv exchanged their places from time to time.

Ewan is not afraid to be rude if someone insults Shehroz (as you can see above).

Sketch 4 :

As much as Ewan cares about Shehroz and is usually gentle to him, he also LOVES to tease him.

He likes to tell jokes to him, teasing, as well as trying to scare him from behind.

Yeah he is dressed all classy and all (he followed Shehroz's dress code I guess), but he is a prankster to his boss.

Sketch 5 :

Ewan knows very well that Shehroz and Liv love each other.

He fully supports them and even wants them to confess already ! (as they already lost enough time and moments together in his opinion).

His mission ends up being a success as they will become official.

Ewan actually has a huge crush on Sonya, but is too afraid to confess.

Shehroz tries his best to convince Ewan to just go ahead as she is very close to Tarak.

Unfortunately for him, Ewan took too much time and lost her, as she is now officially with Tarak.

He is still very happy for his boss nonetheless, but still very bitter that Sonya is with Tarak.

He tries to comfort himself by looking at pictures of her (see above), but Shehroz doesn't think that it's a good idea to cope.

Eternal Rose :

At some point, Ethernatos' power suddenly triggered out of nowhere and Shehroz lost control and became agressive. The first sign was his eyes turning bright pink.

Ewan had to fight for his life that time. Quickly realizing that, he took out his coat and fought back.

Shehroz managed to take him down and was about to finish him off (as seen above), but Liv had to act otherwise Ewan would have been dead, and Liv didn't wanted Shehroz to have blood on his hands on top of that (although he would not remember it).

This act allows Ewan to subdue Shehroz and calm down Ethernatos's fury until the transformation was off.

Thanks to that, Shehroz will not transform randomly for no reason, however, when he is VERY angry, it's gonna take over.

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

BONUS !

Old Sketches I did before having my tablet (2020) :

Back when I was still able to use pens and markers well ...

Sketch 1 :

As mentioned before, Ewan LOVES to tease his boss. When he asks if he was over 40, he answered no (he's 37 in my Headcanon).

Despite this fact being true, Ewan calls him an "old 40 years old man".

Shehroz doesn't like that at all, and he keeps telling him how he would then call older people like Kabu, Sally Opal or Mustar.

Sketch 2 :

If Shehroz is angry, Ethernatos will start to appear slowly, starting with the eyes.

He will also grow sharp teeth as well.

After what happened the first time, Ewan is very cautious.

If he sees Shehroz starting to turn, he will calm down because otherwise, this could end badly for the young man.

If Ewan tease Shehroz, Shehroz will tease him back.

The best example was Sonya, and boy does he love seeing him angry.

He founds it funny (unlike Liv who is terrifying).

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

So yeah ; those 2 can be REALLY silly and we had a lot of fun creating these stories back then. Love you cousin ♥ (How are you 16 already ?!...)

[300yearschallenge]

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4

The main house was a simple two room cabin with a small hallway connecting the two.

To the left was the bedroom, and to the right was the kitchen. The furniture was well worn and robust, and although the place was much less fancy than the Park home it seemed like a wealth of luxury to Charles Elias after his long journey.

Once inside Charles Elias was invited to sit at the dinner table, with the old man, who introduced himself as Isak, sitting at the head of the table.

"Now then," Isak said, "Why don't you explain why on earth you've come all this way to see Theodore, and I'll have my niece cook us up a nice warm meal while we talk."

Once Isak had called out to a younger girl, who walked in with barely a hello and who kept her gaze firmly away from the group, Charles Elias began telling everyone his story.

He skirted around the truth of who his father was, worried that it would reflect poorly on both Charles Elias, his mother and Theodore if it were to come out, and instead leaned heavily into Joseph's behaviour as the driving force of him leaving.

It wasn't technically a lie.

The more Charles Elias spoke, the more of his frustration poured out.

How angry he was at the man who had raised him for how he had been treated, how slighted he felt, how he reached a point where he just couldn't take it anymore.

And the more Charles Elias spoke, the sadder Theodore and Isak looked. They all knew their culture said you should always listen to and obey the head of the household, but they could also understand that a hurt and angry teenage boy might not follow those expectations.

Once Charles Elias was done, Theodore spoke up.

"Well," he said, "I certainly think you had cause to leave. It was a rash decision, but I can't find it within myself to hold it against you."

Charles Elias breathed a sigh of relief.

"Personally," Theodore continued, "And I hope you don't mind the suggestion, sir, I wouldn't be opposed to having you stay here and help out with the fishing. It's hard work, but it's honest work, and a strong young man such as yourself would do well."

"I-I wouldn't mind fishing, sir," Charles Elias said, glancing towards the man at the head of the table, "I promise I will work hard to earn my living if I you let me stay here."

"I don't see why not," Isak said, "Theodore staying with us has supported our family immensely, and having an extra hand here would do wonders."

Charles Elias smiled.

"I say you're welcome to stay in Theodore's cabin, and to work with us. Welcome, Charles Elias."

With the tension of weeks of travel gone, the conversation began to flow more freely.

Theodore and Charles Elias joked and reminisced, and Isak told a few far-fetched stories of his fishing days as a young man.

Finally, everything felt alright again.

.

.

Historical Info

Oh boy, oh boy! Get ready for historical info you guys, and thank you to everyone for your patience <3

Since I'll be covering two different topics, I'm gonna arrange it into different sub-headers to make reading easier.

Charles Elias' Path

We've discussed the Postal Road between Stockholm and Turku in the past, primarily looking into how it functioned in general.

As such, I won't go into all of that again, but will instead look at the path that Charles Elias took to reach Theodore.

Using this map as a base, I made a sketch of the path that Charles Elias took in order to reach Theodore.

I've always kept the exact village etc. where my sims live somewhat vague on purpose, mostly to have a little bit more room for storytelling.

But, in general terms, you can see what areas I've imagined Charles Elias started his journey from (blue) and where he ended it (red).

The blue X to the west marks the location of the postal harbour, which would have been the point where he turned east.

Now, if you were to make this journey today it would not take two weeks. With car you can make this journey in like maybe 40(?) minutes or so, and on foot google maps says such a walk would take aprox. 17 hours.

However! Keeping in mind that nowadays we have the luxury of modern, well-kept roads and easier modes of transport, I reckoned it made sense if the journey took longer.

There were less roads in general, most were dirt roads, and many small channels of water had to be crossed by boat or bridge. Taking into consideration setting up camp/sleeping somewhere and winter conditions and I figured it would make sense for such a journey to take much longer.

Inns

Set up along the postal road and larger roads at this time were a number of inns.

For the most part these inns were somewhat simple, and often mostly had a main room and some rooms for travelers. The primary people who came to the inns were people traveling along the postal road, primarily "officials, military, merchants and sometimes sailors and boatsmen". This we know since the inns were demanded to keep a diary of their visitors, some of which have survived to modern day.

The quality of the inns at this time varied, with some travel diaries bemoaning the quality, while others thought it was pretty okay. "Guests of higher social standing preferred to stay with priests instead."

Source: Det Åländska Folkets Historia Vol. III (The History of the Åland People Vol. III) by Stig Dreijer

[nessaprower2000]

Okay,i made AU of John Krisfalusi and Spümcø.

John K/Spümcø AU

When John created his studio,which was named Spümcø. In 1990 he released his pilot for Ren and Stimpy, which was called "Big House Blues". In the end, everyone liked the cartoon. And Krisfalusi began his full production with his team on a cartoon called "The Ren & Stimpy Show" . Of course, Nickelodeon, which did such a thing as "NickToons",he noticed this and decided that he should have a contract with Krisfalusi. And now the era of “The Ren & Stimpy Show” begins to develop in the Spümcø studio. After the first season, which was not touched at all by censorship. The team began creating the second season of this show, and it began. Some episodes were closed from Nickelodeon and from television, and some moments in the episodes were completely cut out, and the full episodes can be seen on DVD.

And there was one thing. In August 22 1992 John K released an episode, which called "Man's Best Friend",aired on Nickelodeon. Nickelodeon already wanted to fire John for cruelty and such things. But John said that he did it because the audience wanted it and in the end Nickelodeon spared him,giving him one last chance. And in the end, John and his team were not touched by the dismissal.

In 1992 John Krisfalusi once secretly created an episode of Ren and Stimpy called "My Poor Stimpy". And half the team and even Billy West himself took part in this. After finishing this episode,John and his half of the team were very excited with joy, especially John himself. This episode was watched by literally all viewers, children, teenagers and even adults. After the episode, Nickelodeon was very shocked, because in this episode there was cruelty, the theme of abuse and a severe beating. Therefore, Nickelodeon could not stand it and fired John Krisfalusi and literally the entire Spümcø team was fired from Nickelodeon,And the release of new episodes was entrusted to Bob Camp, and Ren and Stimpy themselves were voiced by Billy West. This is how the Games Animations era began. Well, of course, after this, John was not upset. And myself with half the team that didn’t go to Games Animations - remained. And they themselves watched episodes from Games Animations,and according to John himself said the fact is that seasons 3, 4 and 5 are a stupid waste of money.

And finally, this era of the 90s has passed, and the era of the 2000s has begun.

In 2002 Viacom I wanted an adult version of Ren and Stimpy to be broadcast on SpikeTV. And Krisfalusi, of course, agreed to this, and he started his own business. He was bringing his team back to make an adult version of Ren and Stimpy,which is called "Ren and Stimpy Adult Party Cartoon". John had everything under control. We wrote scripts, sketches, and so on. So far everything was fine, until Billy West got involved with John K. He didn’t want to participate in this because his career in this will hurt. John tried to persuade him but in response. Billy West broke him badly. He mentioned that because of the episode "My Poor Stimpy" the team was fired. Because of this, Nickelodeon had to check episodes and seasons 3,4 and 5. So that they can be shown normally on Nickelodeon. And Billy West himself almost lost his career because of this. And so, Billy West screamed at John:

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!! IF YOU WASN'T DOING THIS. THEN THERE WOULD BE NO TROUBLES!!!"

And Billy West finally said to him last words:

“And you know what... I don’t want anything to do with you anymore... Forget about the fact that we were friends... Your junk will be closed in 4 weeks, and everyone will hate you,Including me. So...You are now a monster for me, who ruined everything." And Billy West left.

John was shocked and devastated by his "buddy's" words. His team tried to reassure him that everything would be fine. But John barely calmed down, and everything was fine. Only he had to find a replacement actor Stimpy. And he found it, it was Eric Bauza.

And finally, in 2003, the cartoon Ren and Stimpy Adult Party Cartoon premiered on SpikeTV. Shown late at night. And after three episodes such as "Onward and Upward","Ren Seeks Help" and "Fire Dogs 2", the ratings were 3.6/10.

Since the audience reacted differently, either someone liked it or they didn’t. And because of this, SpikeTV allowed three more episodes to be released, such as "Naked Beach Frenzy", "Altruistis" and "Stimpy's Pregnant". And the rating for this was 5.8/10, which surprised John and his team. And because of this, they were very happy that people liked it.

And they released 3 more episodes such as "Life Sucks","The Big Switch","The Wilderness Adventure" and a film in which episodes of "Life Sucks", "Ren Seeks Help" and "The Big Switch".

And the rating was 6.2/10, so John was very pleased, and in honor of this he releases the second season of the adult version of Ren and Stimpy. And there were a little more episodes than in the first season.

And John’s life was good, he liked the adult version of Ren and Stimpy himself, saying that it was “An unexpected favorite cartoon for viewers". Currently the rating is 7.5/10,The show was truly loved by fans and viewers.

And now, John Krisfalusi and his team are living well. And they forgot about the bad things that had ever happened to them…

[m-r-levine]

On Interruptions of Flow

Blocks used to be just part of the normal cycles of work and rest and refilling the well, the rhythms of moving between projects. (I won’t deny the good feelings and brain juices from feedback on the work, but it was never the driving force. I treasure comments like a dragon treasures their hoarde, but the urge to write and the pleasure of storytelling are not primarily or even secondarily grounded in the reception of the work.)

In the last few years, that changed. I don’t know if this was a true cause or if it was just one little part of a whole system of events that led to my creative process breaking down, but.

In 2019, I dropped all my other projects to meet an absurd deadline for a zine piece, and then for various reasons, a month later I took that story to pieces to see if an actual novel length concept might be hidden in there**.

Meanwhile, some fairly major things were going on in my personal life, and the tremors were getting markedly worse.

Suddenly I didn’t have blocks of time or steadiness of hand to paint either, except for pushing through for a couple of excruciating outstanding commissions, and struggling to wrap up the second volume of the graphic novel. Yet even with a few of those deadlines dealt with I could no longer make words go on any other project. I tried everything in the toolbox to get the brain going again, especially after a side effect of quarantine gave back my former 3+ hours daily commute time.

Finishing the renovations on the old house ate almost everything I had to give, and my partner’s mental health struggles took the rest. I cannot begin to explain to you just how few spoons I have had between the boring job (which became much more intense with the effects of the pandemic) and Life™️.

Previously, writing and sketching helped me unwind and ground after a shift, or even during breaks. In the last few years though…

Words came slowly for La Mala Suerte, but opening any other story filled my brain with static noises. I could not string basic sentences together. I could not outline plot, I had no fragments of dialogue or vignettes fall into my head like before. When I ran out of backlog to post… Suddenly I had nothing.

Short stretches being dry like that are familiar enough, but days and weeks turned into months and years of desperately wanting to tell the stories and in the few moments of quiet I could steal away? Nothing. It’s an eerie feeling, having the vivid and even visceral scenes that are already written and outlined still looping in my head, screaming to get out, but the moment I try to write connective tissue? Right back to tv snow.

Unlike painting, my writing is accessible everywhere I go, even when it hurts to hold a pen - being able to get ‘lost’ in stories helped me through some incredibly hard times in the past, and losing that ability was devastating. The disappointment and yes, the shame of being adrift and wordless has been wretched. I have longed for the elation I used to find on the other side of a hard passage, the joy of solving the puzzle and freeing the spirit from the proverbial stone.

I still don’t entirely understand what happened in my brain that autumn of 2019… I just know that something changed, and we’re still not… entirely back from it. I am suspecting that Long Covid is now part of it - that was summer of ‘21 though, and I was already firmly lodged in The Block by then.

Maybe it was just one a longer but still normal drought and needing recovery time from intensely brain-heavy Life Events™️ until that extra layer was added? I truly don’t know. I don’t know if it matters either, except in that I am deeply afraid I will lose it again.

Anyway, that’s the ramble for the afternoon on the writing side. Hopefully the Boring Job leaves me some braincells to work on asks and stuff later.

* caveat: Except for the fact some truly wretched negative/judgy feedback can entirely poison the affected work for me and make it impossible to get forward motion(Obsidian Slipper is one such victim, I may talk about it more later.)

** hola Teca. 😒

[gible-love-nibles-archive]

Eternal Diva Fic (Part 14)

WE DID IT, WE HIT THE END BOYS. Augh god, I did not think it would take this long to post, but here we are: this is the final part of this fic! I can return to doing other things now (joke).

Trigger warning for a mention of stabbing (a picture was stabbed with a knife)

Also spoiler warnings for the whole prequel trilogy!

Word Count: 1.1k / Previous

I glanced up at the ladder and the escape hatch of the sub.  Just a couple of weeks ago, I would be racing to climb out of here if I knew where it was.  …Now I somehow was getting cold feet.

“They’ll think I’m holding you for ransom if you just keep standing there,” Descole joked.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I started to climb up, but paused right before the hatch.  I looked down at the masked man.  He looked inquisitive to why I stopped. “...Bye.  And… thanks.”

“...Goodbye.”

I guess neither of us wanted to drag this out, or could find a way to.

I unscrewed the hatch and popped the top open.  Thankfully, it was night time, so I wasn’t assaulted by the brightness of the sun.

I quickly heard a small chorus of my name.  There were Luke, Emmy, and the Professor.  I slid down the sub, and almost immediately after I hopped off, it took off for deeper water.

“No--!” Emmy tried to run after it and looked half-ready to jump into the water before Layton called her back.

“Emmy, we have Miss Clare back.  Let’s not do anything rash.”

“But--!  But that creep Descole kidnapped her for weeks!  If he even hurt a hair on your head, Clare--”

“N-No, he did nothing like that!” I tried to reason with her.

“How are you feeling Clare?  You truly weren’t hurt?  What happened after you fell?” Layton tried to direct Emmy’s wrath to worry over me.

“Well… I was pretty banged up.  I lost consciousness pretty much right after I hit the ground.”

“That’s terrible…” It was the first words Luke had said the whole time, and it was clear why: the poor boy was on the edge of tears.

“Apparently, Descole found me and brought me back to his sub to heal.”

“Did he feed you?  Let you sleep?  Did he torture you to try and get some ancient landmark’s coordinates?!” Emmy was still very fired up.

“Y-Yeah, he fed me and stuff.  And it was good food, if you’re worried about that,” I reassured her. “I was basically a guest.  And besides, I don’t think trying to get anything out of me would’ve been very helpful for him.  I don’t know anything about ancient history.”

“What I don’t get is why he’d do something like that,” Luke piped up.

“I concur,” Layton said, closing his eyes in thought. “Descole is quite the cunning and calculated man.  He does everything for a reason, for his plans.”

“All he told me is that ‘it’s what a gentleman would do.’” I made exaggerated quotation marks.

Layton hummed for a bit, and then opened his eyes again with a tiny smile. “Well, we can worry about that later.  I’m just glad you’re back safe and sound, Miss Clare.”

We started to head back to the Laytonmobile, chatting about things I’d missed while I was gone and getting more questions about my situation.

And that was where the story of the Eternal Kingdom of Ambrosia ended for me.  A happy, quiet ending, despite everything that had happened.

But this, of course, wouldn’t be the last time I’d adventure with Professor Layton… or the last time I’d run into the “humble” masked scientist, Jean Descole.

~

“How long until we reach Monte d’Or?”

“In just a few days sir, once we’re out of this sub.”

“Understood.  I’ll go look over everything again, now that this place is less… lively.”

“Sir… Do you miss her?”

Descole paused for a moment in the hall.  But it was only for a moment; he didn’t say a word, didn’t make a sound as he continued down the hall.

“...Sir Desmond really does care for her.”

~

On the far wall of Descole’s makeshift office was a giant sort of tackboard with all sorts of places, faces, and other things stuck onto it.  The three biggest things were sketches of symbols: one for the Golden Garden of Misthallery (with a large X through it), one for the Eternal Kingdom of Ambrosia (also with an X, though this one was much fresher), and one that was a little harder to decipher.  It looked to be a giant pit of circles with squares at each corner.  It was labelled “The Nautilus Chamber of Akbadain”.

But Descole wasn’t looking at any of those.  His eyes drifted down to an extremely damaged photograph of a man.  It looked like it had been stabbed through several times with a pocket knife.  The name that was penned on it was still legible through the holes.

Leon Bronev.

The masked man found himself gritting his teeth just looking at the photo.  He forced himself to relax.

“...I am reaching the critical moment.  Everything that I have been working towards: every careful plan, every piece of the puzzle… it is finally starting to bear results.”

His eyes stayed around the pictures of people, and in the bottom corner… there she was.  His guest for the past few weeks.  

He found himself removing it from the board without thinking.  He stared at the photo.

A picture couldn’t compare to the real thing of course, but that warm smile depicted… that was the same.  It gave him the same little stir in his heart.

…He snapped himself out of it.  “No.  No, nothing would come out of it.  At least… not now.  When everything is so… Besides, what would she see in a man so terrible as me?  Darkness?  A dead heart?  That’s all there is to me now.  That doe-eyed fool is long gone. …I can’t cling to these fantasies.  I need to focus on my mission.”

He looked at the drawing of the Nautilus Chamber. “Monte d’Or… a new name on the map.  Nearing 20 years old now, if I’m not mistaken.  But it’s settled by such an ancient piece of history.  It’ll be nice to see some… old friends.” Descole chuckled to himself.

But… he still felt a little hollow.  She was still on his mind.  Descole let out a deep sigh as he looked at the photo still in his hand.

“...Clare...If you can hear me, somehow, some way… stay away from me.  Forget you ever met me and just… continue living your life.  This path will only become more dangerous and painful, and… I don’t want you to see it.  Enough people have been hurt-- have been lost-- because of… all this.  You’re too curious, too stubborn, and too… gentle.  You’ll be torn apart, and you won't be able to bear it. 

Do it for yourself.  Do it for your friends.  Do it for… Do it, please.  Run.  Leave this broken man and his broken world.  You can’t make a dead garden grow… just as you can’t make my dead heart beat.”

[coconchanel]

Fated?...

It was Friday, your best day of the week. What was that?....TGIF right?

You couldn't wait for classes to finish so you could wind off with your bestie- Park Suho. So it wasn't unusual when you ran out of your lecture halls immediately the bell went to the snack bar where you girls usually met up after classes. You ordered a strawberry milkshake for you and chips for Suho out of habit while you sat on a stool to wait for her. Twenty minutes had passed without a sign of her causing you to furrow your brows. Suho wasn't really a fan of classes so her tardiness today was a bit strange. You pulled out your phone- that's when you noticed 5 missed calls and a text from her.

Berrb (~^3^)~

Baekhyun's in town. I'm sorry will make it up to you.

You couldn't help but sigh pouting your lips in the process. Baekhyun and Suho were in a long distance relationship. Which meant that anytime he was in town it was make-up-for-lost-time time; and in as much as you understood that, you hated that it was now of all times. Your eyes glazed over the bag of chips that was supposedly for Suho and in a matter of seconds it was open and almost finished by you and then you decided to hang a bit too full to move.

"Hey, Wake up."

"Hey shut the fuck up" You murmured, desperately trying to connect back to your dreamland. A deep chuckle was all it took for you to raise your head and look around. You were still at the snack bar but that wasn't important. The important thing was who woke you up.

"J-Jungkook?" As in the Jungkook in literally half of all your classes, the Jungkook you have a not-really-a-crush on. Okay scratch that you adored the guy cuz who wouldn't. Your brain was on overdrive as you couldn't help but stare at his face now that it was up close. " I-uh-thought I should wake you up since it's late." The way he fumbled with his words plus his cuteness tugged at your heart strings the more. if that's even possible, but that was true it was actually late. You stood from the chair grabbing your bag and some of the books you came with. "Thanks." you mumbled earning a nod from him.

The walk down the hallways was kind of awkward for the both of you. You were so silent, counting your steps even and him on the other hand...

Jungkook carried a torch for you since he met you in freshman year. He was ecstatic to find out he was in most of your classes but since you were always with your friend he didn't have courage to approach you but he was happy watching over you from the sidelines. Hell, he was so whipped he drew every picture he could of you. Those drawings in the very backpack he carried as he walked beside you. You both were now in senior year and he had decided to man up and tell you today after classes, but one look at his watch and you were already gone. As the both of you walked side by side he debated with the thought of confessing. Would it be so sudden? Would it be-

"Bye and thank you" You said turning around immediately. Your mind was muddled hence you didn't notice a rock and you...tripped.

"Ohmyfuckinggawd" You cussed silently earnestly hoping that you didn't just embarrass yourself in front of your crush, but the hurried footsteps and his worried voice proved otherwise. "Hey are you hurt?" he asked crouching beside you. You weren't hurt beside the bruise on your knee which you are sure he saw since he was literally removing everything from his backpack. "Here" he finally whispered when he found the bandage he was looking for but your mind was on something else. In his haste he didn't notice he had removed his sketches which were now on your lap.

You couldn't help but gasp at the very detailed drawings of you. Your eyes went to his and he looked down in an attempt to hide from your gaze. He gave a sigh, it was now or never then.

"You caught me" He mumbled making you furrow your brows in confusion. He quietly sat beside you as he looked at anything but you. " I like you a lot, seems it grew to love" He finally said heaving at how light his chest seemed. He looked back at you though since you hadn't replied for a while fear visible in his eyes. " Uh-you don-" You cut him off with a kiss. It was blissful,and passionate all in one and you wouldn't have asked for anything else.

"I like you too dork, who carries bandages around in their bags anyway."