#hes the cover of my newest sketchbook :)

[akiirart]

its his rollout day :)

+ alt versions

[satorusugurugurl]

Models

Pairing: Nude Model!Geto Suguru x Model!FAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,977

Warnings: Nudity, flirting, suggestiveness, fluffy goodness

A/N: This fluffy Friday idea had me giggling and kicking my legs. So intimate and sweet!! Nemsmkekdkdk!!

Nude life modeling.

It was easy, paid pretty well, and it helped you get money for essentials when your shitty part-time job didn't schedule you. All you were required to do was strip down to your birthday suit and pose for a bunch of art students to draw you. The sessions lasted between two to five hours, with breaks. Sitting around naked while posing was an easy way to make twenty dollars an hour.

After a rough week of hardly any tips at the coffee shop, you desperately needed to pick up a modeling gig for the weekend. You needed groceries, and you had been dying to buy the newest book of your favorite series that just came out. Luckily, an evening art class needed a female model. You jumped at the opportunity, not wanting to eat instant Ramen for the third time this week.

Trotting into the art studio, you found it empty, allowing you to change into a plain white robe before the students arrived. Just as you tied the sash around your waist, the door to the classroom opened. You turned around expecting to find the teacher, only to find the sexiest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

He had dark eyes and raven hair tied up into a bun. You could hear the music blaring through his headphones as he tossed his backpack onto the ground before pulling his shirt over his head. With a squeak, you covered your eyes as if you weren’t already in the nude yourself.

“E-excuse me!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, “Excuse me!! I-I’m in here!!” when you heard the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling, you grabbed a sketchbook off one of the desks, chucking it to the ground in front of his feet.

The man before you jolted, quickly pulling his headphones out. His dark eyes met you for the first time since he entered. “Oh shit!” He hid behind one of the canvases in the classroom. “Fuck! Sorry! Sorry!” You felt like your whole face was on fire.

“N-No, it’s okay! Maybe I have the wrong classroom!”

“Are you here to model for Yaga’s class?” the stranger asked tentatively.

“Uhm, yeah.”

“You're in the right place.”

Slowly blinking, you watched as the stranger peeked his head out from behind the canvas. “I am?” Your eyes wander toward the shirt and belt on the ground before him. “Then why are you—?”

The stranger stepped out in all his shirtless glory. Fuck he was hot, he had muscles for days. While you undressed the rest of him with your eyes, he stepped towards you. His fingers nervously played with his gauges as he stood in front of you, giving you a better view of his body. His muscles and the curves of his body would be perfect for any art student to sketch. If you were good with a pencil, you would have sketched a picture of him because it would be rude to pull your phone out and snap a photo of the insanely hot man in front of you.

“Yaga is going over body movement between two individuals. Like couples and stuff.” He gestured between the two of you. “That’s why I'm here. I guess Yaga failed to mention that in his ad today.” The strange brushed strands of his black hair out of his face. “The other model who was supposed to be doing this with me got food poisoning, so he was on a bit of a time crunch trying to find somebody to take her place.”

“Oh—” your fingers scratch your cheek, “right, okay, so I've always done solo work.”

The dark-haired man hummed in understanding. “Right, sorry he didn’t specify that in the ad. If you’re uncomfortable with it, I can let him know. If we have to cancel the class, that’s fine..” that was probably the best thing to do. But your stomach growled, hungry for something other than instant noodles.

“Ugh, no, it's fine, I’ll do it.” Why you agreed to do it was beyond you. Posing with a stranger, a hot one at that, was one of the craziest things you'd done. “Is it like back-to-back poses? Or are we talking cringe-worthy 90s family picture poses?”

The man before you chuckled as he shook his head, a dusty shade of rose spread over his cheeks. “That has to be one of the funniest things I've ever heard while modeling.” he glanced at the small wooden stage in the vented room. “It shouldn't be too crazy. Probably just us laying down or something.”

“Ah, very cool mystery man.”

“Oh right, sorry.” He held his hand out to you. “I’m Geto Suguru.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself before leaving the room to allow him to change. “Just come get me when you’re done.”

Once standing in the hall, you run your finger through your hair, tugging it gently. How did your simple modeling evening turn into an evening of modeling with the super hot guy? The more important question was how you were going to get through this entire evening being next to said hot stranger in the nude?!

Keep it together. You got this! You told yourself and attempted to ease your nerves. The following 3 to 4 hours would fly by fast, and then you would never see each other again. If you were lying on the floor next to each other? Naked. It wasn’t a super big deal. Just you and a stranger lying on the ground!

Two hours into the session, you stared directly into Geto’s eyes. “Geto,” you spoke softly, attempting not to distract the students around you.

“What’s up? Do you need a break?”

“No, I was just going to say I wish we were doing a 90s family photo pose. You know those kinds where you would sit on a stool, and I would awkwardly place my hands on one of your shoulders while we stare off into the distance?” Geto’s shoulders shook as he tried to contain his laughter.

You had to make fun of a situation like this. Where you were naked, straddling the hips of a nude man you didn't know, only having a thin cloth separating you from each other. It wasn't as awkward as you thought it would be. Thanks to Geto; he made it extremely comfortable for you. Asking for your consent before touching you, he often checked in to see how you were feeling. He was the perfect gentleman.

Geto also happens to be just your type. He was handsome, sweet, and had a killer body; you felt drunk off of his smell and touch. But would it be wrong to ask him out after doing a job together? You wanted to keep things strictly professional. Your stomach, unfortunately, didn’t get the same memo.

It grumbled helplessly, begging you to feed it something with value instead of instant noodles, protein bars, or candy. God, it was so loud you prayed Geto didn't hear it, that he was too focused on posing to notice your stomach’s begging pleas. You thought you might have been in the clear until Geto gently squeezed your hips, drawing your eyes towards him.

“Hungry?” he asked with a slight smirk.

“N-No.”

“Huh, because it sounds to me like you are.” You shift slightly as if moving would cause your stomach to growl at a softer volume. “W-Wait don—nngh.” Something thick and hard pressed firmly against your ass, making you squeak.

Geto groans, his fingers digging deeper into your hips, stopping you from moving any further. All you can do is stare at him. His eyes remain shut tight. Was he hard? Was he, this god-built man, popping a boner with you on top?

“Geto.” You whisper, a smile tugging at your mouth.

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, so you can bring up my stomach growling, but I can’t bring up you hard co-“

Eyes snap open as he shushes you. “I’m sorry, I just think you’re cute and funny. I tried thinking about my grandma naked, but my brain would rather think of how good you feel in my lap.” He breathes out a minty sigh.

His candor had you blushing as you gripped his shoulder. You remain still like that until your stomach grows louder this time. Geto sputters out a laugh as you push yourself back an inch, rolling against his cock, causing a moan to break in through his laughter.

“Fuck, please stop doing that, or I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? Didn’t see you as a pre-mature ejaculator.”

“I’m not—-normally.”

“Says the guy who just said he was gonna cum.”

Geto cocks a pierced brow at you. “I’m like the energizer bunny; I can go all night.” The room feels hot, and it’s not from the lights on you, and it’s not from constricting clothing. The classroom is unbearably hot because of the building tension between you two.

“I doubt that.” You confess in a whisper, rolling your eyes. “How long do you last? Two minutes tops?”

He scoffed gently, kneading your hips. “Is that a challenge?” The urge to kiss and take him up on his challenge eats at you like acid. You inch closer, lips nearly touching, when someone clears their throat behind you.

The sound of them clearing their throat reminds you that you are not alone. The both of you are in the middle of a classroom modeling for a bunch of students. Students that can clearly see and possibly hear the conversation you two are having.

“Later.”

That single word puts a pin in your whole conversation. Geto’s erection goes down while your stomach continues to growl, winning the softest of chuckles from the man you're still straddling. Somehow, by the grace of the gods, you manage to make it through the entire class without your stomach eating itself or grinding down on Geto, much to your amazement.

With the class over, Geto lets you change in the main room while he uses the supply closet. You finish before him, grabbing your things, eyes darting towards the closet. How does one ask out a fellow nude model? Was it just the heat of the moment that had you hungry for his touch? Or was there something truly there between you?

The never-ending questions stopped as Geto stepped out, pushing his hair back, eyes scanning the room. The instant they find you, he’s crossing the floor faster, his backpack slung over his shoulder. There was something in his smile that made you weak in the knees.

“Do you like soba noodles?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your stomach growls in agreement.

A smile so smooth it gives the butter a run for its money graces Suguru’s face. “Let me take you out for dinner and a drink,” he starts heading for the door, “before that stomach gremlin decides to eat me instead of food.” Heart racing, you grab your things, joining his side, hands clasped behind your back.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Geto, but the chances of me eating you after dinner are high.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes, I'd say there is a ninety-five percent chance you’re on the menu for dessert if you want to come back to my apartment.”

“Funny, I was going to say there’s a ninety-eight percent chance I was going to eat you for dessert~”

Glancing up, you nearly stumble as Geto sticks his pierced tongue out. “Then maybe I’ll accept your challenge and prove I can last longer than two minutes.”

You smirk, licking your lips with a starved expression. “Show me what you got from the energizer bunny.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[dejwrld]

summary — in which the neighbor becomes a bystander in an explicit window show by infamous artist geto suguru.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, exhibitionism, oral (suguru receiving), masturbation (f.solo), drug usage/drug consumption (weed), voyeurism, artist!geto suguru, if you squint a lil bit–you may see hints of dom!suguru, takes place in the same verse of my rockstar!choso fic, minors do not interact

sticky note from deja — one of my babies that i hold close to my heart. a repost from my old blog—only the girlies who followed my blog 2 years ago remember this gem. completely ahead of its time.

The large window was something you had to get used to. You thought about putting curtains up, but you adored how the natural sunlight gleamed into your newest condo. Or the fact that you had a perfect view of the apartment across from you. You weren’t even aware that someone lived in the apartment until you were near the window and saw a male figure carrying art supplies. Your curious eyes squint to get a better look at the person, but you just couldn’t see that far.

As you ate dinner alone, you would find yourself peeping at the man across from you. He always seemed to be cooped up in his artwork. Rubbing his hands that were covered with paint onto his sweatpants or ripping a piece of paper out from his sketchbook. You found yourself wanting to get a closer look, intrigued to get a closer look at the mysterious man. So you brought a pair of binoculars. Cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realize you were a peeping Tom. How desperate could you be to invade a man’s privacy like this?

One evening when you were twisting and turning in your bed, you gave up trying to sleep. Your feet dragged across the wooden floors towards your kitchen to make your favorite tea that usually helped you fall asleep. As you walked by the huge window where the moon illuminated inside your place, your eyes nearly popped out of your head seeing the view. Your hands frantically picked up the binoculars as you looked directly towards the artist’s apartment. There he was sitting in one of his living room chairs, a rolled blunt in between his lips as another woman was in between his legs. Your heart pounded in your chest watching his fingers comb through his long jet black hair as the woman’s head bobbed up and down on his cock.

You kept mumbling to yourself that this felt so wrong. But your eyes couldn’t pry away from the sight. The way he inhaled and exhaled while a smoke cloud swirled above him as he held the rolled substance in his hand. His other hand was placed on the back of the woman’s head moving with her movements. He was enjoying the wonderful feeling of being on cloud nine due to the weed he was consuming and then being brought back down from his high due to a woman’s lips wrapped around his cock. You felt the growing heat in between your thighs as you put the binoculars down, your hands growing sweaty at the thought of what you just witnessed. You wanted to close your eyes and hopefully, when you opened, you were just hallucinating…dreaming maybe. High off the same thing, the artist was smoking. When you brought the binoculars back to your eyes, your heart seemed to drop in your chest. There he was, the artist giving you a sly wave. If you squint hard enough, you would even admit that he was giving you some cocky smirk.

He knew you were watching.

You watched through the binoculars as he gently nudged the woman off him. The woman’s face was covered with her own saliva as he gripped at her hair dragging her closer to the huge window just so you can get a better look. Your heart seemed to beat faster as you tugged one of your dining room chairs closer to the window, your thighs clamped shut to ignore the ache from your pussy that was begging for attention. As your eyes peeped through the binoculars once more, the woman continued to suck the artist off. His rolled blunt was in between his lips as he would toy with the woman’s brunette hair, eventually putting it in a ponytail to stop her saliva from colliding with her hair.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, the little things like that turned you on. You couldn’t help but play with the band of your pajama shorts. You were aware that if he knew you were watching, he could most likely see you.

You would put the binoculars down for a second as you tugged your shorts down. You stepped out of them letting them decorate your wooden floors as you sat back down in the chair you pulled up. Your eyes once again peeked through the binoculars once you picked them back up. The artist’s large hand was placed on the window keeping his balance from the sensational pleasure he was receiving.

Your eyes peered at the man as his head fell back in complete bliss. Seeing the way his hips thrust into the woman’s mouth caused your fingers to climb into your panties. Your fingers rubbed at your folds, shocked at the fact that just by being a peeping Tom, you’ve grown wet. Brain rotting with the thoughts of the artist in the other building as you massaged your own cunt, your other hand gripping at the binoculars to get a perfect view of the artist.

Your lips parted slightly to let out a soft whimper as your fingers made a circular motion on your clit that was begging to be touched. The sight of the artist getting a blowjob from another woman caused you to be soaked below if only you were the one whose lips were wrapped around his cock. The thought of it caused you to push two of your fingers inside to feel around your damp walls. Your fingers stroked eagerly to hit that one spot that caused your toes to curl up in pure bliss. Binoculars glued to your eyes as you watch the artist stare in your direction. A smirk on his face as he would quickly put the blunt he was smoking out. You watched as his muscles flex at each movement the brunette made on his dick. Your teeth grind against your lower lip as you remove your fingers from yourself. Your own wetness glistened your fingers that now were rubbing at your clit.

You watched as the artist’s hips thrust forward. The brunette on the floor grasped at the rug under her knees, trying to hold her balance due to the sudden aggression from the man in front of her. Saliva dripped on the floor and on the brunette’s lap as tears trickled down her cheeks. The actions you were viewing caused you to rub even faster; you could feel the heat pooling in the pit of your abdomen. You watched as the artist’s head fell back as the brunette-haired woman used her hands to massage his shaft. Mimicking his motions as your head also fell back and once again insert your fingers to push around your wet walls. Your imagination lets you wonder and wish that the artist’s fingers were inside you, edging you on bit by bit. A moan hitched from the back of your throat as your vision was getting blurry. The last sight through the binoculars you caught a glimpse of before you were pushed into your orgasm was the artist removing himself from the woman’s mouth. A mixture of his cum and the brunette’s saliva dripped off the artist’s cock.

The binoculars clattered to the ground once you felt your walls clutch around your fingers. Your chest rose up and down as you seemed to slump in the wooden chair you were sitting in. Sitting in your own pool of wetness, you could see that the artists had also finished up. The girl who was blowing him off was walking out of the living room to clean herself up, her face a sloppy mess as she licked her lips of any cum that spilled out her mouth. You quickly grabbed the binoculars, your cheeks steamed with embarrassment as you couldn’t even believe the action you’d just done. You see him staring right back at you when you peek through them to end your night. He had a grin on his face as he gave you a wave right before he turned his living room light off, most likely to go join the woman he just face-fucked.

You placed the binoculars down and started to clean the mess you made. Your mind is still racing due to the actions you just committed. It was such a new thing, and your friends wouldn’t even believe you if you told them what you did. You pushed the chair back into the dining space of your condo and eventually went to shower. Praying that the shower's steam would push out the thoughts of the artist living rent-free in your mind.

The following morning, you seemed to have dozed off on your living room couch last night. A fluffy blanket tugged on your body, and your television was on. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you seemed to begin remembering the following night's events. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you jolted up, going towards the window. You couldn’t see the artist walking around his apartment, nor did you see the brunette woman that was wrapped around his cock. But you did see something. You grabbed your binoculars, peeping through them for one last time, and your lips parted to let out a scandalous gasp.

There stood in the living room, close to the large window that the artist once was using as support last night, a painting. A painting so explicit that it caused you to place your hand on your chest in disbelief. The painting was a painting of you last night. On the canvas was an explicit painting of you masturbating at the view of him. You couldn’t help but notice the details he put into his work, especially considering that you live in an apartment building across from his. He had to have such a vivid imagination to create such a piece.

And in the corner, you saw his signature in black paint.

Geto Suguru.

The artist’s name was Geto Suguru.

[fandomregression]

Hi! I saw TMA as one of the fandoms that you do (and ngl I’m a little embarrassed to ask this), but would you do Cg!Elias hcs? (I know he’s Evil but I am very small and very weak)

no need to be embarrassed, dear!! i love elias sm hes so evil but he's Nice in a way

CG Elias Bouchard Headcanons!

elias is the type who didn't really think about caregiving until it was just. presented to him. he does okay with kids, but to be honest he's never really been one for the messes they make

but with a regressor, he's just charmed by them. their little habits, babbles, and laughs make his heart soar, and when they cry it rips his heart out.

elias has...so many fancy things for his regressor to play with. fancy crayons, sketchbooks instead of computer paper, the newest montessori-like toys he can find, all that stuff. he also has the softest blankies, tons of cute clothes, and the Best snacks

he's a bit of a workaholic when it comes to the institute, so often his regressor is playing on the sofa in his office while he works, and when he takes breaks it's just watch the little one for a few minutes

not the best with direct comfort, but he does (of course) know how to identify what's wrong very quickly, and he can usually resolve the issue. regressor crying over a bad day because they had a fight with someone? yknow, elias has this pipe he found-

kidding, kidding! (mostly)

elias is very weak to little ones, and since he has the means to get them whatever they want, he gets them whatever they want. he buys...SO MANY build a bears...

i'm picturing him playing peak-a-boo and its the cutest thing too

lets his regressor sometimes just sit on his lap while he's working. he regrets this decision every time being now there's curious fingers all over his keyboard typing so many things and hitting so many keys and he's already not the best with computers oh no-

elias would be the type to like being called papa, i feel it in my bones

he would also let his regressor give him makeovers. he now is covered in lipstick where the regressor used it like a marker all over his face

he really hopes he hasn't forgotten about any meetings, because he just can't say no to his little one

[iantimony]

didn't poast last week so this is a two-week extravaganza post! con: got roped into DMing dnd pro: none of these fools have read mdzs so i can steal plots from there. hope the party is ready to be lead on a quest by a disembodied arm!

listening: oh shit SO many things. i will not be linking to all of them.

depeche mode: basically just their top songs on spotify, not any specific album. strong shoutout to 'shake the disease' and 'wrong' (which featured in my secret samol post!)

disturbed: ditto

franz ferdinand: albums 'hits to the head' and 'tonight'. throwbacks

phoenix: 'wolfgang amadeus phoenix' ditto throwback

inxs: 'x' DITTO throwback. doesn't hit the same as when i first listened to em years ago unfortunately

streetlight manifesto: album 'somewhere in the between'

boy and bear: 'harlequin dream'

sammy rae: 'let's throw a party', 'the good life', and their 'everybody wants to rule the world' cover

hozier: 'wasteland baby' and 'unreal unearth'

paramore: album 'this is why'

grizzly bear: 'veckatimiest' and 'painted ruins'

haken: their newest album 'fauna' because i'm thinking about whether or not to go to one of their shows in feb (leaning towards yes right now)

my SO's pinecore playlist

shosty symphony no 5 (<3)

and, finally, a lot of borodin symphony no. 1 in e flat and the last two movements of rimsky-korsakov golden cockerel because that's what the youth orchestra i'm volunteering with is playing right now haha

for podcasts, i've listened to the new counter/weight prequel eps! i'm so charmed to see these characters again. i still haven't finished millenium break holiday special because i lost my spot when a bunch of an episode played without sound by accident so i finally went and scrubbed back to the beginning of the episode (it's the second to last part) so by next week i will FINALLY be out of holiday special zone.

reading: finished rereading tgcf lol,,, in loving memory of square checkbox: apparently apple is switching to circle ones? hateful wikipedia page for kessler syndrome my friend @celestialtourguide sent me a dm to ask about a few of the characters in this manuscript and i was immediately charmed by it. it's so pretty, i loved the informational blurbs, just really cool stuff. it was already on waybackmachine but i've gone ahead and updated it.

watching: kurtis conner looksmaxxing. weird little subculture peek. rewatched sideways' why the music in cats 2019 is worse than you thought because my roommate was interested. this led us to the same channel's why avatar has the most ironic soundtrack of all time because roommate misread ironic as iconic and she really likes that movie. no accounting for taste, but aight. much more interesting than i thought it would be. that video then lead us to tony hinnigan's woodwind demos because hell fuckin yes. big-ass panpipes.

i've been keeping up on dunmeshi anime in little watch sessions with my SO, and also am working through kill la kill with him! i've seen it before but he has not so i'm really enjoying that.

playing: fallow.

making: i managed to finish my secret samol gift in time for reveal day!!! comics are fuckin hard dude!!!! i don't know if i'll be doing it again but it was a fun challenge. i decided to use a New App for some reason instead of procreate because procreate has not been hitting right and i wanted comic half tone brushes for this project. app is called sketchbook, it's an orange icon with a pencil on it. shrug! it's fine! i'll probably keep using it for a bit. started working on an english paper piecing project! soliciting tips for that because right now my method is: cut out hexagon using pattern piece i made to be 1/4 in larger all around than the template, gluestick template onto hexagon, baste edges down neatly, whip-stitch right sides together. remove template once all six sides have something attached. i'm sure there's a better way to streamline this process, i'll have to experiment. this will end up as a dice bag i think.

finally, pottery starts again this week! so next week will have some of that in here

eating: ah beans i did not do a good job keeping track of this. uh. made the ground pork & cabbage thing again because my roommate got SO much napa cabbage for making kimchi and we had a shitload left over. napa cabbage isn't as good as a more standard cabbage for this imo, standard cabbage tends to be a little sweeter i think once it's cooked in? idk. had some stage 5 mental illness moments last week trying to cook dinner on a very short time scale with lots of other shit to do, following a recipe because fucking of course my roommate wanted me to cook with a recipe that night. anyways.

misc: like said at the top, somehow i managed to sign up for Another Activity god damn it. so now every saturday evening i run dnd. tl;dr i'm in a group irl that meets biweekly, someone who i give a lift to for that was complaining in the car that their other online group's dm ragequit after his encounter wasn't well-balanced (skill issue) and before thinking about it i just was like oh well i could probably step in if you need! god damn ittttt lol i have missed dming so it should be fun. i vibe checked them for a session 0 last week and they seem chill and honestly shouldn't be too much work on my end, especially if i yoink plots from mdzs ha ha ha. other than that, all is basically well. i've settled back into a schedule, applied for some summer positions (!), and absolutely hate the amount of busy work in one of my two classes. yippee

[seacee16]

when petals fall | bangchan

bang chan x original female character

warnings: none

prev chapter

!! FULL STORY ON AO3 !!

epilogue 2 ~ when your heart comes home

~ 1 year later ~

People watching had always been a good way of passing time. Seeing different people with varying traits pass by as they go about their daily lives. Some on their way to work, catching up with friends old and new, or simply trying to make it through the day. Every story hidden beneath the judged cover of each individual person’s exterior. In this sense, all one could do was judge the books by their covers. Unless, they were to ignore the what-if’s of each passing soul and focus on the unique beauty of each and everyone. That is what Sakura did. Sat in the middle of an airport, sketchbook wide open on her lap as she rushed to capture as many faces as she could before they were out of sight. Slowly, her pages filled and she went on to the next. It had been just over an hour since she first made herself comfortable on one of the rows of hard airport seats, her backpack to her left and a pencil mix of different hardness scattered on the open seat to her right. A black pen sat between her teeth; one that she would use to finalize each expression and emphasize shadows.

With a soft puff of air, she finished up the last face on the double page and set it down with the rest of her stationary. Sakura looked over her work, admiring the way her ability to capture people had improved over the months. She had put every ounce of effort into completing her studies, earning grades that she knew would make her father beam from ear to ear while simultaneously scolding her for all of the proper meals and sleep she had skipped. But when things got too busy and the deadlines got closer, the girl allowed herself an hour each day to sit and draw. Whether it was in the university library, or the green quad, or referencing images and videos she found online. Whether it was neatly done with prior planning, or roughly done. All that mattered was that she gave herself some time to forget about her academic stress and regroup her scrambled thoughts. And, after a long year, Sakura had finished.

Now, she sat in the middle New Chitose Airport, ready to begin the newest chapter of her own story.

“You’re really talented,” a voice called out from over her shoulder.

It was mid-thanks that she noticed how familiar the voice sounded. Like warm honey after a long day in the cold. Turning her head, her gaze met the smiling face of a friend.

“Hello, noona.”

“Hyunjin.”

The last syllable of his name got lost in the rush as she leapt from her seat, throwing both arms around the boy made of lead and love letters. He might have chuckled at her enthusiasm, but she couldn’t hear. Sakura was clinging to the back of his blue-grey hoodie like her life depended on it, still unable to believe that he was in front of her. And when his arms wrapped around her torso, she almost let a sob free fall from her lips.

“It’s good to see you too, Sakura.”

His hands never left her, holding onto her upper arms as she pulled away to look him over, her eyes drifting around him as she spoke. Searching. Hoping.

“What are you doing here?”

“Photoshoot. Just me.”

He isn’t here.

The male should have been disappointed to see her deflate at his words, but he couldn’t bring himself to frown. Instead, he pulled her back to his chest, just happy to see her again after so long. And who was she to deny the boy of a hug?

“How have you been?” He asked her, pulling away enough for the two of them to sit down. He set his own bag down with hers, twisting in the seat until he was facing her fully. There was so much he wanted to ask, but that was the best place to start. A smile filled her face.

“I’ve been good. I came back home as soon as my final presentation was over. I’ve been here for two or three months now, spending time with everyone before I had to leave again. But what about you? You were still touring up until a few weeks ago, right? How was it?” Questions just flowed out of her, unable to hold back her curiosity the way Hyunjin had.

The male’s eyes seemed to sparkle more as he told her about their travels. He told her all about the new places they visited. How excited they had all been for their two members when they finally touched down in Australia for the first time since their last tour so many years ago. Luggage mix ups and embarrassing stage moments and a passport that was thought to be missing, only to be found moments before boarding was closed. Sakura could listen to him talk for hours without growing tired of the sound of his voice. It was then that she realized just how much she had missed the idol – well, how much she missed all eight of them, really.

Before he could continue, he paused. Her words replayed in his head, bringing his attention to something she had said in the midst of her rush. “Wait, you said you’re leaving again?”

She nodded shyly. “I am. While I was studying, one of my supervisors put me in contact with a friend of theirs that was keen on having me work for them. They really liked my paper and some of the ideas I proposed to her. So, I’m moving. Permanently this time.” As if on cue, Sakura pulled her vibrating phone out of her pocket, turning off the alarm she had set to keep herself from potentially missing her flight. “I should probably start heading towards the gates.” Grabbing her things, she stood. Hyunjin mirrored her.

“Does he know?” Three words, but she knew exactly what he was asking. Does Chan know that you’re moving? Are you going to tell him?

Sakura shook her head, adjusting the backpack on her shoulders. “He doesn’t. We haven’t spoken much. It didn’t feel right to drop something like that on him so out of the blue.” All he could do was nod. He understood, but that didn’t stop the shift in the atmosphere around them. They had only been speaking for a few minutes. There was more they needed to speak about. Hyunjin didn’t want to part ways with her just yet.

As if sensing the man’s dilemma, Sakura asked, “Walk me to my gate?”

With a sad smile, the dancer nodded.

“Of course.”

<3        <3        <3

“Chan-hyung!”

The leader paused his incomplete track at the muffled sound of his name being called from somewhere outside of the bubble his headphones had dragged him into. Prying himself from the work splayed out on his desk, Chan made his was out to the kitchen where the shout had come from. There, the other Aussie stood with his fists deep in dough. Flour dusted his nose and cheeks, hiding some of his lighter freckles.

“Hyunjin texted. He can’t get in. Said there’s something wrong with the keypad. Can you open up for him, please?” Felix asked, showing off his sticky hands to prove that he was unable to do it himself.

“Sure, Lix.”

Making his way to the door, Chan made a mental note to bring up the broken keypad issue with their manager the next time they saw him. He couldn’t risk any of the kids being locked out of the dorm. Or worse, couldn’t risk anyone else getting in somehow. The thought alone made him shiver. He would get it fixed as soon as possible. When he opened the door, a smiling Hyunjin stood patiently waiting on the other side. Hands full with his bags, the dancer hobbled past his leader, enthusiastic greetings coming from both of them – followed by an eagerly shouted ‘hello’ from the kitchen.

Pushing shut the door, Chan asked, “How was your flight?” He failed to notice the way Hyunjin tensed at the question.

“It was good. Managed to take a short nap too, which is always welcomed.” He began making his way to his bedroom, but stopped before he could disappear from sight. His gaze drifted between his belongings, as if trying to remember something. “Oh,” Hyunjin said, turning back towards Chan, “I think I may have dropped something out in the hall. Could you grab it for me, hyung?”

Chan wanted to groan. He had been in the zone with his music right before Felix called him. On the edge of a breakthrough with his latest track, he wanted to go back to work immediately before the idea could slip from his mind. But he could see the tired bags under Hyunjin’s eyes, knowing well that the boy would want to go right to bed. So, he nodded, offering a light smile before opening the door once more.

It took a single look for Chan to lose all knowledge of any vocabulary he had spent his life memorizing, in both tongue. She looked well, healthy and rested the way he had hoped she was. Her hair was a lighter shade now, closer to caramel compared to the usual cocoa brown he had been so used to. The same height, yet she seemed to have more definition to her arms and face. Her freckles had darkened. So did the rest of her skin. And across the top of one ear was a small titanium rod that definitely hadn’t been there the last time. But one thing remained unchanged. Her eyes. Golden and glowing like a thousand birthed suns. The way she looked at him with impossibly kind eyes, overflowing with every burning emotion known to them. Joy. Comfort. Love.

I love you, he thought.

A million thoughts raced through his mind at the sight of her standing before him. No number of seconds that passed made it seem any more real. She was here. His heart ached, not knowing what to do. At least, that was until their one-man audience decided to voice his thoughts.

“God, hyung, if you don’t kiss her right now, I will. The tension is stinking up the room.”

His words earned him a stern glare from the older male, his gaze following Hyunjin as he left with his hands raised in surrender, but the sly grin on his face didn’t falter. Only when he was way out of sight, did Chan’s expression soften, but his eyes stayed focused at the doorway the younger one had disappeared through. He was scared. What if he looked back and she was gone? What if this was all a dream he would inevitably wake from? Would his mind play a trick so cruel?

“Chan?”

No. Her voice was too clear, too close, too real. What if she was really there? What if he turned and she was still smiling up at him? What if he opened his arms and she ran right into them, feeling whole the way he knew he would? What if-

“I would have told you I was coming, but Hyunjin…” She paused. “I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

No, he thought. Don’t leave. God, move, you idiot. Do something. Anything.

It took everything in her for Sakura to force herself to walk away from him, the sight of his turned frame causing a lump to form in her throat. And the longer she stayed, the further the pain in her chest spread. So, she twisted away. Her steps grew, each stride bigger and quicker than the last until-

A hand wrap around her upper arm, causing her to spin right into someone’s chest. She knew it was him the moment there was contact, when she felt her skin crawl at every point they connected. And then his hands were in her hair, tugging her closer until they shared a single breath. A single heartbeat. She felt his lips against hers and every doubt in her mind slipped away like a leaf in a stream. Her body recognized his touch instantly, both arms reaching up to wrap around his neck as muscle memory kicked in. She could feel his tongue against her bottom lip and his big hands roaming her back, touching every inch. She couldn’t breathe, but not even the burn in her lungs could pull her away from him. Because if she were in his arms like this, suffocating with his tall frame cocooned around her own and him stealing the very air from her lungs, she would die happy. So, she let him kiss her. Longer, rougher, sweeter. Until his hands finally stilled and his lips reluctantly separated from hers. Behind her shut eyes, the world was dark, but every nerve ending in her body was alive. Her hands slid over his broad shoulders and down his chest, resting in the space between their racing hearts. Sakura felt the tip of his nose brush against hers, and then against her cheek as he kissed her again. Once. Twice. And this time, when he pulled away, she opened her eyes. Chan lifted a hand to cup her face, his thumb rubbing the reddening skin of her freckled cheek as he stared down at her.

“You’re here.” It was the first words he had spoken, and the sound of his voice alone hand her crumbling in the palm of his hand. It was so gentle, so sure.

“I’m here,” Sakura managed to whisper back, feeling the steady thumping of his heart beneath her fingertips. “Hi.”

Chan laughed, his hold on her waist tightened. “Hello, petal.” The way that her smile widened was enough to make his mind go completely blank. It was contagious, and soon his face mirrored hers.

“Surprised?”

“More like afraid that I’ll wake up.”

“This isn’t a dream.”

“That’s exactly what someone in a dream would say.”

She smirked. “Should I pinch you?”

“I’d rather just kiss you again, honestly.”

Wanting to feel her smile against his again, he leaned in to kiss her. However, voices were heard from the corridor, warning the pair of the swarm of members that would likely intrude any moment now. So, with his arms secured around her waist, Chan lifted her up and dashed towards his room. Her giggled flooded his ears as she tightened her hold on him to stop herself from falling, her legs wrapping around his waist for extra grip. As soon as his door had closed behind them, the male lowered both of them to his bed.

With his face buried in her neck, he whispered, “I can’t believe you’re here.” The feeling of his lips against her skin made her shiver, more so when he pressed a kiss to the tissue pulsing over her jugular. She felt Chan’s hand slide up and down the side of her waist, bunching up the material of her sweatshirt as he did.

“I missed you,” she admitted. The male pulled away, resting his weight on his arms as he looked down at her. Her hair was splayed around her messily and there was a sad glint in her eyes. He frowned. “So much, Chan. There were so many times that I wanted nothing more than to drop everything and come back. I thought about knocking on your door and being in your arms again and immediately feeling like everything was going to be okay.”

“My sweet petal,” he hummed, brushing the hair out of her face. He bent forward, kissing each of her cheeks softly, with a final stop at her lips. It was a quick kiss, but pulled away felt like fighting against a riptide. “You worked too hard for that spot to drop it so easily. And I missed you too, every day,” he told her. “But I am so proud of you for staying and finishing what you started. You did so well, I just know it, Sakura.”

A small involuntary whimper fell from her trembling lips. In one motion, Chan scooped her up in his arms and rolled the pair over so that she was laying comfortably on his chest. His arms enclosed around her frame, lightly pressing her head into the nook of his neck as he ran one hand through her hair.

They had all of two seconds to themselves before the door to Chan’s room burst open and Jisung stormed in with a pout on his face. The lack of surprise on his face at the sight of Sakura curled up in his leader’s arms proved that Hyunjin had told the rest of them about her arrival. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring daggers at the eldest, who just groaned, not very pleased to have been interrupted.

“Hyung! You can’t keep Sakura-noona from us!”

Chan’s arms only tightened around her, re-enforcing his hold. He was not let go of her any time soon. The leader buried his face in her neck as she tried looking up at the other rapper. She couldn’t help but smile at him, glad to see his full cheeks and happy eyes again.

Sticking out his tongue in Jisung’s direction, Chan stated, “I can and I will. She’s mine.”

The younger huffed. “Unfair! Last week, when I didn’t want to give you half of my donut, you said I had to because sharing is caring!”

Chan pretended to think, his exaggerated expression causing the girl in his arms to giggle against his chest. “Hmm, I don’t recall that happening. Do you have any evidence to support your claim, Han?”

At the door, a crowd of six others had formed, each one smiling at the scene unfolding before them. “If that’s the case, don’t expect me to share my brownies with you next time, Chan-hyung,” the other Aussie said as he joined the group. Now it was Chan’s turn to pout, pure betrayal in his eyes.

Still tightly bundled in his arms, Sakura’s words were muffled against the material of the man’s clothing. Chan reluctantly loosened his grip on her so that she could speak freely. Lifting her head towards the door, Sakura said, “Come here, Sungie.”

There was nothing the leader could do but watch as his first kid rushed forward and plopped down comfortably into Sakura’s arms, knocking her back slightly. However, she was happy enough to just be hugging the younger boy again. He was warm and oozing with excitement, practically purring as she ran her hand through his hair.

“You’ve gotten so big, Ji,” she told him, still smiling down at the boy.

After one last squeeze around her waist, he sat up on his knees so that she could see him fully. It was clear as day that he had grown in size, his shoulders looking wider and stronger than they had when they last saw one another. He had the same kind eyes and goofy smile, but his newly dark hair made him look older than he was. More mature. More handsome.

Sporting a smooth grin, Jisung lifted one arm and flexed proudly. With a blush to her cheeks, she adverted her eyes before the jealous male behind her noticed her stare.

“I’m almost as big as Chan-hyung now,” he stated confidently.

Sakura smirked. Briefly eyeing the older male behind her, she cooed, “Oh, really now?”

She reached forward as if to touch Jisung’s pronounced bicep, only to be tugged backward into Chan’s steady chest before she could get close enough to feel. Two arms secured themselves tightly around her, pinning both arms to her own chest, preventing her from reaching out a second time. Now laying with her back flush against his chest, Sakura could feel a low rubble from behind her, his eyes no doubt piercing the younger.

“Thin ice, Jisung,” he warned, arms rewrapping around her waist.

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh at the way Jisung’s bottom lip stuck out. Twisting until she was more comfortable, the girl curled up against Chan’s chest tiredly. It took a single look at her for their leader’s entire stern persona to evaporate, leaving behind a loving gaze. He let his hand brush gently against her cheek and up the back of her neck. The action caused her to nuzzle deeper into his comfort.

“I’m going to leave before I throw up,” Seungmin teased with a gag before marching out, the rest of the group close behind them, but not before Sakura promised Jisung a movie to make up for Chan hogging her. The idea caused him to smile, holding up a pinky before closing the door behind him.

Alone once more, Sakura tilted her head up to look at Chan, who was already watching her with hearts in his eyes. She smiled a loopy smile.

“Jealous, Mr Bang?” Sakura asked, staring up at him with tired eyes. They shut as he leaned down to place a tender kiss to her forehead, and in return, she pressed a kiss to each dimple. An action that made him purr.

“Immensely.”

“I love you,” she whispered up to him.

"I love you, petal. In every orbit."

____________________________

and that is a wrap on 'when petals fall' !!

this may just be another piece of fanfiction to some people, but over the two years that it took for me to piece this together, I went through some dark times. my experiences became Sakura's, and as she healed, so did I. stray kids have been a great comfort to me - and sooo many others - over the years, and I only hope that stays are always able to bring them that same feeling of comfort.

idk if I'll end up posting more stories on here, but I hope everyone who reads this enjoyed the story. I am in no way a professional writer and I am a south african who has never been to Japan or Korea, so there are likely many errors and inaccuracies throughout the story. please be kind if you spot any.

anyway, thank you for reading, and I hope you all continue to love and support stray kids.

may the weight of your skies always be light.

love, AC

[rottenresponse]

NEW OC NEW OC!! MEET

🥳 Sticker Face 🥳

(Sticker Face is their placeholder name for now, just bare with me here ubwihsbush)

Oml, When I tell you I've been meaning to make an OC based off of my newest Sketchbook and struggled all day to come up with a design, I MEAN IT- I'm glad I have something cohesive down now, BUT GOOD LORD WAS IT DIFFICULT TO PUT DOWN ON PAPER AT FIRST SJIBSUVSBISIB Anygaaaays, For the time being, I'mma just give you guys a short list of all the things I have down for this sillay little goober

THE LIST

They identify as a Demiboy (I think I said that right-)

They use They/He pronouns

They have stickers covering every inch of their skin, no exceptions <3

+ They're definitely not human considering how they ALWAYS have said stickers on, 24/7

They're Poly + BI, male leaning

This last image is just here so ik how his hair looks and where his stickers go on his exposed face ibsihsbhs

[lowkeyclueless5137]

I have art block :'3

So for now I will dump sum things from my sketchbook... Like au dumps in the form of traditional drawing.

Keep in mind that I did these at school, with only a multicolored pen, a crayon and highlighter :'3

This is the newest one in the sketchbook :'3

I caved in and did a genshin au but it's more Ace and Childe being brothers, as such Ace is your friendly Geo bow character that we meet during Fontaine :'3

He was initially meant to have a spear

I included 2 abouts, bc I feel like Ace could drop u either sum funny things or concerning lil snippets. :v

Also bc he is still from twisted wonderland, I felt it fit to make him a new type of vision frame. :D

Sum jjk cover ideas, from the double Isekai au. I really like how Floyd's turned out, mainly because of the goldfish. :'3

For Ortho/Orpheus I used a fountain pen for some bits and honestly, that shit colors so well, like how??? Irl it looks so nice. I had a field trip trying to get a brown for the coffin head, still I really like how simple is and the subtle references.

I really wanted to reference Kento's manga cover, so in all 3 there is 1 thing that is in common and I am curious to see if y'all can guess what it is. :3

The fight club au! :D

Tbh I have so many thoughts for it, despite these 2 not actually being the main focus (Epel is)

It's an Au that is inspired by the fighting club genre (street fighter, MK, etc.) tbh I really wanted to try some different types of poses and I thought that it was a nice exercise.

I actually messed up Riddle's jacket... Initially it was meant to be orange, but I changed my mind halfway so here we are. It was supposed to be a dark blue... :'3

My pen gave up halfway in here x3

Yes, it's the king of Blots Au, which was pretty fun to think about it. Especially since in here, Idia grows to be more independent in terms of doing certain chores he initially used machines for(Ramshackle Dormhead U-U). A cute headcannon in here is that Ortho usually naps when he takes his meds so Idia is more or so used to be deemed a pillow. :3

Rollo and Azul friendship✨

Sum Raincode shit :'3

There's a fricking stain on the page and IDK how it got there T-T

They have such fun story in this Au and Rollo being set on 'exorcising' Malleus and Idia is just a highlight, because for many who have no idea, Rollo seems like he's squaring with a bird and a lizard. :'3

Also big spoilers for Raincode au :v

This is the oldest drawing in this post tbh :v

Maybe I should dump more traditional drawings tbh... They are fun :3

[instantelephantmix]

childhood sketchbooks part 1: the lame ones

Bit of a boring start because they're so old they're just not very notable, but oh well.

I decided to go through all my sketchbooks, from way back when I was like 6, to the present day. Oldest to newest (vaguely, as I didn't put dates on anything and sometimes I would randomly come back to my old books and draw something new)

Here is the best of the first four!

(One of them isn't shown here because it literally doesn't have a cover, not sure how that happened)

First we have some obnoxious trash from the Cake Book, my very first notebook (that I still own).

Apparently this is a fork lift truck. Yeah I was very funny.

This lizard is probably the most genuinely well drawn thing in the book.

This is Bob. He's a weird picasso looking monster. Friendly bloke.

Now onto the Red Book;

Only had two from this one but here's some Moshi Monsters fan art and some LPS: Popular characters. I uhh could not draw cats back then

Next is the Coverless Book - this one started as a project book. Homeschool stuff. So here's that out of the way;

I'm honestly thankful to my mum for letting me work based on things I'm actually interested in, that was very nice.

don't look for the blog, I doubt it still exists lol

This was my first "batch" of pet snails. Coffee was always my favourite, he was a predecessor to Bobby in a way.

Some newer sketches that snuck in here. If I had to guess a date I'd say around 2015/2016.

Now onto the Animal Crossing Book.

Another LPS Popular piece, more similar in style to actual LPS than the first.

One of my many (as you'll soon come to see) Warrior Cats drawings. I do like the colour mixing on this one. Everything else, not so much.

That's all for now - see you in the next blog where we'll be looking at uhh.. still pretty lame stuff, but it's starting to have more personality

[lovelyney]

─────DATING THEM !! MONSTANDT GUYS────

CHARACTERS: albedo, bennett, diluc, kaeya, mika, razor, venti.

SCENT: headcanons

WARNINGS: gets a tad suggestive on Albedo's

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2022 !! #©LOVELYNEY

꒱₊˚ 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎 !! 𝐊𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐑��𝐍𝐙

𖠵𝟎𝟏: He was somewhat oblivious when he first started developing feelings for you because he had never fallen in love beforehand.

after the strange feeling stuck with him for a few weeks, he finally consulted Sucrose about it, hoping she knew what he was feeling.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: When she explained that he had, indeed, fallen in love with you, everything clicked. The way his heartbeat sped up whenever you smiled, his sketchbook filled to the perimeter with sketches and drawings of you, his mind wandering to your smile late at night. . . everything.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Thus, he composed a painting of you and asked if you could continue to be “his muse” and how could you possibly refuse when he practically painted you as the Mona Lisa?

𖠵𝟎𝟒: He is ever so charming. He loves to see what’ll make you tick and whatnot. watch out for that, lmao.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Loves to call you “(my) love,” “princess/prince,” and “sweetheart.”

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Sucrose finds it adorable how he looks at you with so much love and admiration.

oh yeah, you and Albedo are practically her parents by always watching over and protecting her. she appreciates you two a lot.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Kisses on your fingertips and shoulder blades are a regular with him.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Always brings extra blankets when you two go out adventuring in Dragonspine. He’s accustomed to the cold at this point, so he brings them for you (:

𖠵𝟎𝟗: One of his soft spots is seeing you play with Klee (“: He always thinks about what it would be like to start a family with you.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: The first about. . . five pages of his newest sketchbooks are just you. Doing what ?? Well, that’s up to your imagination.

❝Oh, welcome back, my love. Busy day, I presume? Your timing is perfect, I must say. I just finished my last experiment for the day. . . Sit down on the bed, and I’ll brew us a pot of tea, then you can tell me all about your day, sound good?❞

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Likes to experiment with the things you like, the things you don’t. . . different things you’ll react to. One of his favorite things about you are your reactions.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: If you’re cooking or like looking through your commissions, he’ll come up from behind you and start pressing kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone. Just. . . randomly ??

𖠵𝟏𝟑: He’s a little obsessed with you. he finds himself memorizing everything you do and indulging himself in it. Sometimes he’ll even finish your sentences because he’s just been studying you for so long he knows what you’re going to say.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Wear his coat, and he will literally melt into a puddle right before your eyes.

however, wear just his coat, and you’re playing with fire. you do know he can probably create a potion for just about anything, right ??

𖠵𝟏𝟓: His kisses are always slow and passionate, even with his tongue !! His goal is to pull away with you wanting more.

has a thing for you pulling his hair when you two are making out. it drives him crazy (in a good way.)

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Makes you breakfast in bed since he always wakes up earlier than you to get a headstart on his research.

he'll always cover you with an extra blanket when he first wakes up as well.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Whenever you're sleepy, he'll ask you to sit in his lap while he's still researching so that you aren’t alone/feel lonely when you're sleeping.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: If you can't sleep, he'll always hum until you can.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Didn't believe human interactions and relationships were worth his time before he met you; he mainly focused on his research and work alone.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Doesn't really grasp what's 'right' and what's not regarding relationships. So what he says is mostly unfiltered.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Has a notebook filled with notes about you and your relationship, both from the past and now present.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: Loves whenever you kiss his birthmark; he's slightly insecure about it, but feeling your lips on it puts him at ease.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: One of the best ways to calm him down from stress or anger is to trace lines in his palms.

꒱₊˚ 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓 !! 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

𖠵𝟎𝟏: THE ABSOLUTE MOST SWEETEST BF EVER!

𖠵𝟎𝟐: He was highly hesitant about asking you out at first because of his bad luck, but with enough assurance from Fischl and Razor (he tried his best to understand), he decided to do it.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: He had bought you a bouquet of cecilias from Flora because he was scared that if he picked them himself, they would like start on fire or something. You assured him that you appreciated the gesture either way.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: The relief on this boy’s face when you accepted his confession is hallucinatory. He engulfed you in his arms while thanking you repeatedly. And after realizing that you might be uncomfortable with his impulsive hug, he pulled away with a face as red as a rose and apologized awkwardly.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: he was a little too shy at first to call you a pet name, but then he overheard other couples, and he started to think that maybe you didn’t feel loved enough because he never called you one, which is how he started calling you “clover” or an occasional shy “baby.”

❝Ah! W—Welcome home, clover! O—Oh, um. . . You don’t mind me calling you that, do you? I heard other couples calling each other cute names, and I thought clover was fitting for you because you always give me a sense of g-good luck. . . I-If it makes you uncomfortable, t-then I can always drop i-it!❞

𖠵𝟎𝟔: This boy is so infatuated with you; please treat him with care.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: You act as the group’s (Bennett, Fischl, and Razor) designated parent, always carrying extra supplies with you when you go out with them.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: He’s insecure that you’re gonna leave him because of his luck ): He needs lots of assurance from you; please give it to him.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: When you two are cuddling/sleeping, he prefers that you rest on his chest because it keeps him grounded and assures him that you’re there with him and haven’t left.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Generally, in the mornings, you’ll find him with his arms tightly wrapped around your waist and his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. He won’t let you go for a while.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Gushes about you like you’re some kind of super famous celebrity.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: The amount of times he’s tried to cook you something but almost burnt down the house is unruly. He almost always feels guilty, but you give me a kiss on the forehead as consolation, and he feels better :)

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Speaking of kisses, when you first kissed him, he stared at you dumbfounded with a face redder than Diluc’s hair before asking for another one.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: He’s like a touch-starved puppy. He melts at the slightest touch from you and always leans into your palm.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Loves when you run your fingers through his hair or kiss the corner of his eyes—especially in the early mornings.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: You always give him a kiss before he leaves for his commissions as a “good luck charm.”

𖠵𝟏𝟕: One of the best people you can rant to. He’ll always sit patiently and listen to your troubles.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: You’re always there to patch him up whenever he gets injured from his commissions.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Scared of touching you or bringing you anywhere because he's terrified that his bad luck will end up hurting you someday.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Brings you home little souvenirs from his adventures to always show that he's thinking of you (':

𖠵𝟐𝟏: He always has to drag you away from punching someone who trash-talks him.

꒱₊˚ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 !! 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍

𖠵𝟎𝟏: He didn’t give falling in love much thought because he figured he’d be too busy running the tavern and protecting Monstandt from the Abyss Order.

he also thought that no one would like him that way because of his cold and blunt demeanor. at least compared to his brother.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Then you came along, and everything changed. You showed him patience and kindness, and with the snap of a finger, he fell head over heels

𖠵𝟎𝟑: He had two different thoughts running through his head: “what if she doesn’t feel the same and ends up getting the wrong idea of my motives and never shows her face to me again” and “what if she feels the same but right when we’ve finally settled down, she dies in my arms like father did.”

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Those thoughts alone were enough to keep him quiet cause seeing you fall in love with someone else was more bearable than losing you for good.

on the other hand, Kaeya did not let his brother staring at you with such adoration go overturned. so, he kept nagging at him to confess to you which FINALLY got him to give up.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: He had no idea how to confess to you, definitely not taking any pointers from his brother. Therefore, he just awkwardly told you, hoping his sincerity was enough to woo you.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: And when it was, it felt like he could finally see color in the world again. He felt so thankful that someone like you, kind and gentle, could love someone as vacant as him.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: You are always his number one priority. Your. Safety. Comes. First !!

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Your drinks are free at the tavern !! (Which a certain bard and cryo user think is unfair. . .)

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Likes to call you “dear” and “(my) dove.”

❝My dove, what’re you doing with that glass of wine? No. Put it down. You’ve had enough to drink for one night. Archons, you’re starting to remind me of my brother.❞

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Is terrified the Abyss Order will target you to get to him.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Is fully aware you know how to protect yourself, but he still prefers that he goes with you on your commissions, so he at least knows that you’re unscathed.

if you were to get fatally injured under his watch, he wouldn’t ever be able to forgive himself despite your protests.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Expresses his love with actions rather than words.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Doesn’t know how to convey his feelings properly; he’s a bit stiff and awkward; bare with him here.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Hugs you from behind whenever you’re cooking or reading if he’s feeling exceptionally touchy.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Sometimes, you’ll help him bartend at the tavern when you’re free, and there’s always these occasional drunk men who flirt with you that he wants to burn alive LMFAO.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Similar to Albedo, Diluc undoubtedly melts whenever you wear his jacket !! Most of the time, he lets you wear it unless he has to go to Dragonspine for something.

will always drape his jacket over your shoulders whenever he notices you’ve grown cold.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Always kisses you on the forehead before he’s off somewhere.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: He doesn’t trust the world with you, which is why he’s so possessive and overly cautious whenever you go out.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: His kisses are slow-burn if that makes sense ?? Like they start slow and sweet, then escalate to passionate and needy.

always has a hand on your chin while kissing you, using his index finger to lift it so that you meet his gaze before firmly grasping it so that you can’t shyly turn away.

his lips are always warm, so kissing him is quite pleasant (:

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Imagine on cold nights, when you’re shivering and all, Diluc peppers warm kisses down your shoulders and onto your stomach to help warm you up. (Which 100% doesn’t actually help.)

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Whenever he wakes up before you, he’ll always observe you sleeping because he finds you adorable whenever you’re so at peace with yourself.

draws shapes and patterns on your hips or legs while waiting for you to wake.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: He lets you play with and do his hair, and he tries not to admit that he adores it. He does.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Whenever you patch up his wounds is when he sometimes feels the luckiest to have you. 

𖠵𝟐𝟒: You keep extra ointment and cooling patches on you because Diluc sometimes burns himself from his vision ‘cause he clutches his claymore so tightly.

𖠵𝟐𝟓: If you were to gently kiss his scars. . . He would not be able to control himself and just throw himself on you, his lips eagerly on yours in seconds.

𖠵𝟐𝟔: Imagine his hands are giant. . . for some reason, so whenever you hold his hand, his completely envelops yours, and he absolutely lives for it. 

꒱₊˚ 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 !! 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐍

𖠵𝟎𝟏: He was a hard one to read at first because you couldn't tell if he was just being his normal playful self or if he genuinely liked you.

in reality, he was actually very smitten by you and, similar to Diluc, was hesitant to tell you.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: His main concern was that he didn't want you to think he was being a creep with some ulterior motive or something of the sort.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: And so he went to Lisa for some words of advice, and she made sure to emphasize he shouldn't sound so flirtatious when confessing and should be a bit more genuine.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Asked you over for dinner, pushing a bouquet of windwheel asters and cecilias into your arms when you got to his house.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: When he finally got to confessing to you, he stumbled over his words a little because he was so scared of messing it up.

so when you accepted his feelings, it felt like he could fully breathe again. he immediately pulled you in his arms and squeezed you, promising you he'd take good care of you (:

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Nicknames can arrange from flirtatious to lovesick. Some of his favorites are “angel,” “doll,” “baby,” and “princess/prince.”

❝Ah, I see my angel has decided to come visit me from the heavens. How's your day coming along, my princess/prince? No one's been giving you trouble, I presume? Archons know if someone is and what'll I do to them. . .❞

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Lots and lots of teasing !! He loves to see you all flushed because of him.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: His hands are naturally very cold because of his vision, and he'll sneak them up your shirt or press them against your cheeks to mess with you.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Diluc doesn't know how you put up with him but is grateful that you keep him in check.

and even though he won't admit it, he's glad his brother found someone that makes him so happy.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: You humble him from time to time when he gets too prideful.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: He stopped going to the tavern as much because you mentioned that you started getting worried and frustrated that he drank so much.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Always keeps an arm slung around your waist or shoulder while you're out together.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Wants to celebrate every accomplishment you achieve. Finished all your commissions for the week ?? Fuck yeah, date time !!

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Although he's flirty, ever since he started dating you, he reserved his flirting for you alone. If someone makes a move on him, he'll scoff and brush them off.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: His kisses are always passionate and warm. He wants you to be reminded that you're his s/o and nobody else's with each kiss.

he normally has a hand on your jaw or chin so that you can't move away from him.

he loves to trail his kisses down your jaw and collarbone. seeing you shiver from pleasure boosts his ego, LMFAO.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Leaves love bites down your neck and collarbone.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Doesn't take people giving you trouble lightly. . . He'll happily give someone a lesson or two if it means they'll leave you alone for the greater good.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Won't sleep for days if you're hospital-ridden because you got critically injured. He'll be at your side through all of it.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Gets so worried that you're going to disappear like everyone else in his life.

꒱₊˚ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀 !! 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓

𖠵𝟎𝟏: He’s so so sweet but overall very shy !! And slightly inexperienced when it comes to dating. . . He’s learning as he goes, LOL.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: The poor boy had no idea what to do with himself when he first fell in love with you, so he rushed to Kaeya for advice. Can’t tell if that was a bad or good idea. . .💀💀

𖠵𝟎𝟑: You’ll have to be patient with him ‹/3 Even a few weeks into the relationship, he’ll still be a little sheepish when initiating affection.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: (↑) Don’t let that distract you from the fact that he loves any ounce of love you throw at him !!

𖠵𝟎𝟓: He’s incredibly reliable !! If you need help with something with physical or mental, he’ll gladly help you in any way he can ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Finds himself scribbling hearts on the maps he’s planning out because his mind wanders to you.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Hopes to find the time to visit one of the other nations with you !! It doesn’t necessary matter which one, he just wants to travel the world with you at his side ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟖: You didn’t hear it from me, but he’s planning on making a giant map, color-coded and all, with some of his favorite moments with you jotted down on it ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Absolutely hates whenever you’re upset !! It breaks the poor boy’s heart because he lives to see your smile ):

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Likes to call you “angel,” “cecilia,” “love,” “sweetheart,” and “baby/babe.”

❝Angel? Are you home? I’m back from my expediti—wOAH! Oh! There you are, (NAME)! I—I missed you too, sweetheart! So, so much. . . Say, are you, by chance free right now? You maybe want to grab some snacks from Good Hunter and g-go to Windtrace?❞

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Is completely smitten with you and will do anything in his willpower to keep you safe ‹/3

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Sometimes adventurers will find you two passed out together under the Windtrace Tree, cooing quietly at cute you guys are.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Always, ALWAYS gets you some type of gift on important days: your birthday, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day, Windblume, etc, etc. . .

𖠵𝟏𝟒: (↑) One of his favorite holidays is Valentine’s Day because it gives him a reason to spoil you ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Always writes you really cute love letters when he’s away on the more lengthy expeditions ‹3

you can guarantee that the grand master (cannot remember the name of him for the life of me 💔) teases the hell out of him about you ‹/3 he always makes sure to ask him if he’s proposed yet. . . just you wait til’ he replies with yes, LMAO.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: If he sees you’re shivering, his coat is around you in seconds. He hates whenever you’re even the slightest uncomfortable.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Doesn’t catch a break from Kaeya’s teasing ‹/3 Jean or Diluc normally have to slap him on the back of the head for him to shut up.

DILUC: “Give the boy a break, Kaeya. At least he has someone; the only thing you seem to have these days is a crippling alcohol addiction.”

KAEYA: “(Scoffs.) Well, as far as i’m concerned you don’t seem to have a significant other either, Diluc. Takes another drink of wine.”

“Um. . . let’s—let’s go get some fresh air, s—shall we, cecilia?”

𖠵𝟏𝟖: People tend to underestimate his strength. If he sees you walking towards a puddle, he’ll lift you with one arm and carry you over it.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: He’s very articulated and swift !! I mean, he uses three different weapons and can switch between within a second—in which, he’s very good at protecting you from unwanted attacks.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Gets INCREDIBLY flustered whenever you compliment him. 😭

꒱₊˚ 𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐎𝐑 !! 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐁𝐎𝐘

𖠵𝟎𝟏: GOODEST BOY #1 !1!1!1

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Poor Razor had no knowledge and experience in crushes, so when he gained butterflies in his stomach when he was around you one day, he internally panicked because he thought he was sick with something.

however, when he explained how he felt to Bennett, his friend happily assured him that he had not fallen to some new illness but rather was in love with you!

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Bennett encouraged him to tell you because he thought you two would be the cutest couple in all Teyvat. (And let’s be honest, you are.)

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Since he had no prior knowledge of confessions, he didn’t know if there was an appropriate time for it or if he should dwell on it, so he just flat-out told you how he felt when he saw you next.

you didn’t understand what exactly he was implying at first, but when you put the pieces together, you melted right on the spot.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: His nonexistent tail wagged when you cheerfully explained that you reciprocated the feelings !!

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Since he isn’t as adapted to relationship customs, he usually refers to you as “lupical.” but when Bennett described what affectionate nicknames are, he started to call you “pup” as well. (Because baby wolves are called pups !!)

❝Um, lupical. . . Friend Bennett told Razor that a. . . kiss was something humans in relationships do. So Razor wanted to know i-if you wanted to try it. . .❞

you had to explain to him what it was at first and what to do before placing a chaste kiss on his lips (:

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Is a sucker for any affection; he always indistinctively leans into your touch. He is quite literally a touch-starved puppy.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Bennett playfully teases him about how lovey he gets with you.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Looves to cuddle you !! his favorite position is when he’s lying on your chest or stomach so that he can fall asleep to your heartbeat with his arms enclosed around your lower half. he finds you very warm and soft !!

𖠵𝟏𝟎: You teach him a lot of things he never got to learn growing up (:

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Protective of you, but not in a possessive way. He just can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. So he always stands in front of you whenever you guys encounter any hilichurls, treasure hoarders, etc.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Pouts whenever he smells another guy’s scent on you before hugging you tightly so you’re covered in his scent.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: You like to brush through and do his hair and he adores it.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Teaches you lots of survival skills.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Teaches you how to make lots of veggie and meat-based dishes!

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Good luck trying to hide any injury from him; he can smell blood from a mile away. Also danger !! You're in good hands here.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Ever since you taught him how to kiss, he’ll randomly go up to you, grab your face, and just give you a biiig smooch.

his kisses are hard to put into words. they’re warm and passionate, per sé. you can tell how much he loves you when he kisses you.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: You and Bennett help him with bigger vocabulary words that he isn’t generally used to—then focusing on how to form a sentence correctly.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Lots of camping dates! he gets nervous with lots of people around, preferring to be with you alone in the woods somewhere with not as much noise.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: He sometimes licks you as a form of affection ):

he’s also tried licking your wounds clean, but you’ve gently explained to him that it’s unsafe and unsanitary. he’s resorted to just pressing a simple kiss to them now.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: He likes to affectionately bite/nibble on you, so you have various bite marks scattered on your body because of him.

꒱₊˚ 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 !! 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐃

𖠵𝟎𝟏: He feared falling in love because being an archon meant that he was immortal, and he knew the chances that whoever he would fall in love with wouldn’t be.

and he was doing good at first! so for a while, he didn’t get so worked up about it.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Then you showed up in Monstandt, and after becoming close friends with you, fell hard.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: At first, he decided against the idea of telling you for a few reasons, such as not to ruin what you guys had and not to get insanely attached to you as he did with the nameless bard, just for you to die right in front of him.

but his feelings for you deepened with time, and he didn’t want to live tied down by his past and rather just live in the moment with you at his side.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: And so, he confessed to you via a song he wrote and, at the end, gifted you a bouquet of cecilias.

it felt like time stopped for him when you said you felt the same, and he couldn’t help but squeeze you in his arms.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Likes to call you “windblume,” “(my) love,” and “(my) cecilia.”

❝Ah! Welcome home, windblume! Did the warm winds bring you any comfort today? I hope you know that whenever the wind envelops you, that’s me hugging you when I’m not at your side!❞

𖠵𝟎𝟔: If you’re taller than him, he’ll beg you to give him piggyback rides everywhere.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Dedicates most of his songs and poems about you.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: He’ll give you random kisses just out of nowhere; it doesn’t matter when or where; he just likes to watch the color rise to your face (given if it’s visible with your skin color.)

𖠵𝟎𝟗: If you need to destress or relax, he’ll take you up to the hands of one of the Statues Of Seven or up to Starsnatch Cliff.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: If he sees you injured or upset by another person’s hands or words, he will GLADLY rearrange whoever did it.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Begged Albedo to help him find a way to maintain your youth if not make you immortal.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: This boy is so infatuated with you; it’s unreal 💔

𖠵𝟏𝟑: You’re the only one he gets to see him in his archon form, and he finds that really special.

he absolutely melts whenever you kiss or trace over his archon markings. his stomach always fills with butterflies when you do it.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: If your hair is braid-able, he’ll braid your hair to look like his so that you’re matching !!

he taught himself to do all different kinds of braids, so don’t worry about your hair type.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: He likes to hum you to sleep or to calm you down; his voice is pleasant to listen to, so you never digress.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: If you asked him to flip the world upside down, he probably would. . . ?? He’s that in love with you.

[lesamisagainstnapoleon]

modern ami headcanons

Feuilly has had the same phone case for six years. It's green with "Poland" printed in capital letters inside a heart, and Feuilly refuses to give it up. "It's not protecting your phone, Feuilly!" "Yeeaaahhh, it definitely is. Anyway I can't afford one" "THEY'RE LIKE TEN BUCKS FEUILLY I CAN GET ONE FOR YOU--" "really, I'm good, thanks :)" (as he drops his phone and the case gets a new crack)

Bahorel is famous for arriving to class late, and always in a new way. The students (and secretly, the professors) all look forward to his daily entrances. Sometimes he's on roller blades, other times he's hopping on one foot and wearing a giant purple wig. On days when he's sick and can't make it to class, everyone feels a little less energetic and happy to be there.

Combeferre is adamant about helping people with their studies. "I don't really want to bother you but--" "SHOW ME THE ASSIGNMENT" He gets legitimately SO excited when people ask him for homework help. One of his favorite people to help is Gavroche, who has a bit of trouble with long division. Combeferre always makes studying seem fun and enjoyable, and the people he helps always leave the sessions with a little more confidence in their future grades.

Jehan enters monthly poetry competitions. He's literally always writing poetry, whether in a little notebook he always carries with him, or on his phone, or on the nearest ami's sleeve. Courfeyrac has one jacket covered in Jehan's poetry. It's his favorite thing to wear, he says, and he'll never wash it so the poems don't wear off. Jehan has won a bunch of competitions before, and usually spends the money on some more plants for his flat, or on a gift for one of his friends.

Joly is the best nurse ever. When one of the amis fall sick, he bakes up a giant container of cookies (depending on what the sick ami's preference is), grabs a stack of movies and two bottles of ginger ale, and heads to the sick ami's place to take care of them. Aside from practically force-feeding them liquids and telling them to blow their nose ("you'll feel better!!") every five minutes, he's amazing at making sick people feel better.

Enjolras is literally the best cook. You might not think it to look at him, but he can make a mean dish of lasagna or a superb shepherd's pie. Every few weeks, he has the group over to his place for his newest recipe, and whenever one of their birthdays rolls around, he "accidentally" ends up making their favorite meal for the gathering. "Oh, I just felt like making it--" "Come on, Enj, you made it for me. This is my favorite." "Aw, nah, I just felt inspired to make it--" "Enjolras"

Bossuet has a google doc that he fills with dad jokes. So far it's three hundred pages, and he adds new ones practically every day. No conversation with him is complete without him pulling up the doc and reading one of the jokes out loud, accompanied by many groans and eye rolls. People who meet him for the first time must pass the trial of hearing at least five of the jokes in a conversation before he can consider making them his friend. Each joke is so cringe-worthy it's hilarious, and Bossuet marks his favorites by changing them into bright pink text.

Grantaire takes his sketchbook literally everywhere. There's no place the amis go that he doesn't bring it. He's constantly sketching random things-- a woman at a restaurant who was reading a book, a dog who followed them to one of their meetings, a butterfly that landed on the tip of his bottle. He makes sketches of the amis, too-- laughing, playing video games together, watching movies, having a popcorn battle or a pillow fight. He'll often randomly leave one of the sketches of the amis with one of them, tucking it in the hood of their sweatshirt or under their plate for them to find later.

Courfeyrac knows, like, so much movie trivia. It's impossible for the amis to watch any movie without him rattling off something about this or that location, or oh did you know that in this scene he actually broke his toe which is why he yelled like that? None of the amis know how he gets so much trivia, but somehow he does, and while it's interesting it also gets slightly annoying when he's interrupting for the forty thousandth time to tell about that actor's wig and how they dropped it in the water accidentally. "Courfeyrac I love you but could you please let us finish this scene in peace, this is the saddest part and you just told us that the actor belched during the first take of it, puh-leeze can we just watch for a minute"

Marius gets extremely giddy when he's nervous about things. The amis will be entering one of their classes in which they have a test and Marius will suddenly latch onto one of their arms and start giggling madly while saying, "I remembered the funniest thing yesterday--" and the amis will just look at each other like "he's losing it again" and then as Marius babbles incoherently about how his dog sneezed when he was a child one of them will just pat his back and as Marius sits down and starts talking faster and waving his arms and laughing really loud because "HAHAHA, MY SHOE JUST SQUEAKED GUYS AHAHAH" they'll just nod at each other before giving Marius some Benedryl they've hidden in a cookie or something so he can calm down. Then they'll take the test and as soon as he finishes he just passes out

Gavroche is the most popular kid in his fifth grade class, mostly because he is constantly telling the teacher they should be eating candy instead of learning. (This may or may not be encouraged by Courfeyrac, who has gotten several emails concerning Gavroche's behavior but who only further inspires Gavroche to keep going). He also constantly draws goofy faces on the whiteboard when his teacher is not looking, resulting in uncontrollable snickering until the teacher turns around, sees it, and bursts into laughter herself while also trying to scold Gavroche, who looks at her with angel eyes and acts like he's been in his seat the whole time.

Eponine is a master at laser tag. Whenever the amis are looking for something to do she's always like "Oh I know I know, laser tag!" and they all internally groan because oh gosh she's about to slaughter them again. She sneaks around and you have no clue she's there until she hits you. Screams of terror often fill the air when she strikes, because she'll lurk around a corner and then leap out, a terrifying smile on her face, before targeting whatever unfortunate ami has stumbled across her. She always wins. Always. (Jehan always loses but that's because he doesn't want to take out his friends).

[mintaka14]

This is the start of my newest multi-chapter Lukanette story, and a Dammit Quick! fic. To the LBSC crowd - you’re all a pack of enablers, so have some Disney music-nerd angst/fluff with a Julerose wedding for good measure.

See the Light

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter One – All Those Years

 Luka Couffaine got the shock of his life when, six months before his sister’s wedding, his past walked onto the boat. She moved with an assurance that she’d never had at fourteen. A little older at twenty-four, a little less arms-and-legs and a little more rounded curves, but still with those same devastating blue eyes.

Her hand curled on the rail, and he realised he was staring.

“Luka,” she said. “Hi.”

“Ma-ma-marinette,” he managed, and that mouth of hers lifted in a tentative smile. “It’s been a while.”

“It’s been a while,” she agreed softly. “How are you?”

He said something, he wasn’t sure what.

“I take it Juleka didn’t mention that I was coming,” she said. “I’ve offered to design the dresses for the wedding, and she suggested I come round today to talk about them. Are you… is it okay that I’m here?”

At that, Luka jolted out of his distraction and offered her a more genuine smile.

“Marinette, it’s more than okay. It’s good to see you again. You’re looking well.”

Her own smile grew a little brighter, and she flicked a quick glance down and back up to meet his eyes again. “So are you.”

“Marinette! You made it!” Rose’s shriek cut off any response he might have made. Rose barrelled up the steps from the galley and past him to engulf Marinette in a tight hug, with Juleka not far behind. Luka had a moment to collect himself while they caught up. All in all, he thought he’d handled it pretty well. He hadn’t actually swallowed his tongue.

Marinette flashed a brief, rueful smile at him over her shoulder as Rose towed her below deck, leaving Luka to pull his scattered thoughts together. He hadn’t seen her in ten years and she could still bowl him over at first sight. He turned absently to the stack of papers he’d been working on when she arrived, barely seeing them.

He hadn’t made much progress half an hour later, and gave up, heading down to the galley. A burst of laughter drew his attention and in the other room he could see Marinette wielding a tape measure around his sister with brisk efficiency, while Rose sat on the table, swinging her legs as she flicked through a plain black sketchbook. He’d seen plenty of the same type of book back when he’d been spending a lot of time with Marinette all those years ago. He leaned in the doorway, unnoticed, watching Marinette at work.

It had always been hard to define exactly what made Marinette so overwhelming whenever he saw her. Maybe it was the sense of intensity and creative fire, as if her skin could barely contain everything that she was, or the fierce, giving heart that shone within her. Maybe it was the endless blue of her eyes that spoke to him of a limitless horizon. It seemed like none of that had changed.

What had changed was the dizzying rush he felt as she bent to pick up something and he found himself following the tight curve of her jeans and the contour of her strong, lean legs. He jerked his wayward gaze away, trying to fight down the heat in his cheeks and the fleeting speculation about what it might be like to have those legs wrapped around him, and those beautiful eyes of hers on him while he … God, Couffaine, get your mind out of the gutter! It had been ten years since he’d last seen her, and these were not appropriate thoughts to be having barely thirty minutes and less than a handful of words of conversation after she’d turned up in his life again.

She had always been a pretty girl, but that was nothing to the gorgeous woman she’d grown into.

He would have bet money that the jeans hugging those legs like a second skin were her own design, and the silky red shirt sliding artfully off one shoulder but never quite falling looked like it had come straight from the fashion week runway. The way Marinette filled it, though, was far more distracting than any model could have ever made it.

The pigtails were another thing that was gone, but he didn’t spare them more than a moment of nostalgia, because the blue-black satin of her hair was caught up in a knot that left the smooth line of her neck bare, and that was a whole other train of thought that he cut off quickly. He looked up to find that she was watching him with a quizzical expression, and he managed to answer it with a smile of his own before Rose noticed him standing there.

“Luka!” she called out. “You have got to see what Marinette’s come up with for us!”

She was practically bouncing, and shoved the sketchbook at him. He looked at Marinette, one eyebrow raised in a question, before he opened it.

“If Marinette’s okay with that,” he said. Marinette’s mouth lifted in a smile at that.

“Marinette’s okay with that,” she told him, and he opened the cover. The slim book was full of designs and scribbled ideas and notes on wedding dresses. He’d seen her fourteen year old designs, and been impressed by them, but this… this was a whole other level, which, he supposed, wasn’t surprising. He turned through the pages slowly. He paused on one that was clearly meant for Juleka.

“Wow,” he said softly.

“That’s one of my favourites, too,” Marinette said. She’d come to look over his shoulder, and he was finding that rather unsettling for some reason. “Juleka’s so elegant, she could wear just about anything, but I like that structure for her.”

“It feels like her.” He glanced up at Marinette. “Dangerous edges, with just a bit of sweetness underneath.”

Marinette turned another few pages, and waited for Luka to find it.

“Rose,” he grinned back at her. “Channelling her inner Disney princess?”

“The brief was Sleeping Beauty, live action, but more -” Marinette gestured extravagantly, opening her eyes wide, and from the table where she was perched, Rose stuck out her tongue at them.

“It’s my wedding, and I’ll princess if I want to,” Rose sniffed.

Luka glanced back at the sketch, and was impressed all over again. Marinette had somehow turned flowers and glitter and pink and Rose into a few lines of charcoal and caught it on the page. Her own special brand of magic.

On the other side of the room, Juleka looked up from her phone.

“I’ve just ordered takeaway, and Ivan and Mylène are on their way,” she told them, and levelled a look at Marinette. “You are staying, aren’t you?”

By the time Marinette had been talked into it, and Ivan and Mylène had turned up in a bustle of exclamations and hugs and chatter, Luka had recovered something of his equilibrium. As darkness fell over the river and the lights strung up across the boat spilled a soft light over the deck, Luka handed Marinette a glass of wine and settled into the deck chair beside her.

“You’re wearing a tie these days,” she said with a hint of mischief, and he glanced down at the shirt he’d rolled up over his tattooed forearms and the tie he’d forgotten he was still wearing. “I never pictured you in the kind of career that would need a tie.”

He pulled himself together enough to smile easily back at her. “Well, it’s been a while. A few things have changed. I see you’re not wearing those pigtails anymore,” he teased her, and her hand went to the soft satin twist of her hair.

“No.” Marinette leaned back in the chair, her wine glass in hand, and her eyes were on Rose and Ivan arguing amicably about something. There was an indefinable sense of distance in her that had never been there when they were kids, and he wondered what had happened to put that there.

“So when did you get back in touch with Jules? She didn’t mention that she’d seen you.”

“I was showing a couple of pieces at something Juleka was modelling at a while ago. We bumped into each other backstage, and when she mentioned that she and Rose were getting married I offered to make up the dresses for them. My wedding present to them,” she said with a self-conscious smile, and Luka couldn’t help a soft laugh.

“Only you would do that for someone you haven’t seen in years.”

“They’re still friends.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

Rose was standing on a stack of crates now, singing something about rainbows, while Juleka hooked an arm around her to keep her from overbalancing and Mylène snorted with laughter. Marinette looked over at them a little wistfully.

“It’s nice to be back in touch with the old Kitty Section crew,” she admitted. “It was nice to reconnect with Juleka… and you. I’ve missed that.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Luka said quietly. “Do you see much of the old school crowd?”

Marinette shrugged. “Not really. I run into Adrien from time to time. I see him at the fashion shows sometimes, but honestly, once we get past the awkward reminiscing about collège, and industry stuff, we don’t really have a whole lot to talk about these days. I’ve sort of lost touch with everyone else.”

“How about Alya?” he asked. Luka had never really warmed to the brash journalist-in-the-making, with all her Adrien-schemes, but she’d been best friends with Marinette back in the day.

“No.” The one word was oddly expressionless. “I haven’t see her in a few years.”

There was a heartbeat when he thought she was going to say something else, then those lashes of hers dropped. Instead, when she looked up again there was that mischievous spark in her eyes again, and she said, “So what convinced you to put on a tie? Although I notice you didn’t get rid of your blue hair.” Was that an approving note in her voice? He ran his hand a little self-consciously through the longer, teal-tipped sweep of his dark hair, rubbing at the shorter hairs at the back of his neck. “What are you doing these days?”

“Playing the occasional gig whenever I get the chance, selling my music from time to time, teaching…”

“Teaching?”

He named the lycèe.

“Lucky students.” Marinette tilted her head to regard him speculatively, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “I’m having a hard time seeing you as M. Couffaine, though.”

“Just Luka. I’m the cool teacher that half the faculty hates because I undermine authority.”

“And the other half madly crush on,” Marinette suggested, and Luka felt himself flush. She could still throw him off-balance, all these years later, although it was in a different way now. The fourteen year old Marinette he remembered would never have been able to say something like that without self-combusting, but here she was, watching him with that mischievous glint in her beautiful blue eyes, and it was just another reminder that things had changed.

“What about you?” he deflected. He gestured at the sketchbook she’d left on a nearby table with her handbag. “Following the dream?”

She gave a wry little smile. “Oh, I got through my degree in fashion design somehow, and I’ve been running a bespoke atelier out of my bedroom. It’s not huge, but it pays the bills, and at least it gives me a certain amount of … flexibility.” Luka couldn’t understand the slight twist of her mouth at the word, but she had it smoothed out before he could be sure he’d really seen it. “And Ja… a few high profile people have been very kind and sent work my way.”

Luka felt certain he knew who the celebrity had been. For that alone, he could forgive his father a lot. There was a long silence while Marinette contemplated her empty wine glass, then she met his eyes.

“You have no idea how sorry I am that I broke up with you like that, right when you were going through everything with... I just made everything worse, and it wasn’t fair on you. I never really found a way to tell you that I was sorry for everything.”

“Marinette, no!” Luka straightened in his deckchair, a faint frown crossing his face. “We were kids. I’ve always felt badly that I put you under more pressure when you were clearly having a hard time with something.”

“There was a fair bit of that going around,” she conceded, and let out a shuddering breath that he didn’t realise she’d been holding. “But you have nothing to apologise for, you had every right to be upset about how I treated you. I regret a lot of things about back then.”

“I don’t regret that we tried,” Luka said with unintentional intensity, and Marinette’s eyes widened a little. “But I do regret that I lost you out of my life altogether. You always had the most fascinating way of seeing things, and I missed just hanging out and talking to you.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after all that. And I thought it was saf -“ she cut herself off abruptly, changing what she’d been going to say, “- better if I stayed away.”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything in response.

She gave him a sidelong look. “I never really got the chance to ask you, did you… how did things go with Jagged in the end? Do you talk to him?”

Luka’s expression turned wry. “It’s complicated. It’s always complicated with Jagged, but we talk a bit. He’s going to be there for the wedding. Not sure how that’s going to go.”

Marinette made a sympathetic noise. He thought for a moment that she was going to ask him for the details, but instead, with another swift, perceptive glance from those blue eyes of hers, she changed the subject.

“So what’s teaching like, M. Couffaine?” she asked lightly, and he settled back to tell her some of his stories, enjoying the ripple of laughter he drew from her over his students’ antics, and the chuckles she surprised out of him with her own tales about clients and their most outrageous demands. He had no idea how late it had grown when the conversation was interrupted by a chorus of phones chiming all at once from various corners of the Liberty. Ivan was the first to reach his.

“Akuma alert,” he sighed. “Aw, man, they’ve shut down septième. Traffic getting home is going to be hell.”

“What’s the bet that it’s the Eiffel Tower again?” Juleka muttered.

Mylène was shaking her head. “Hawkmoth, and now Swallowtail, and there was that weird thing with the rats a few years ago, and the government keeps pretending that there’s nothing they can do as long as they can just dump it all on Ladybug and Chat Noir to deal with the problem. We’re still working on getting subsidies for mental health therapies, but they keep stonewalling us.”

Marinette was getting to her feet.

“I really should go,” she said reluctantly, and Luka stood as she gathered up her bag and sketchbook. “It was… really nice to catch up again, Luka. It’s been far too long.”

“Oh, but you’ll be back again soon, right?” Rose cut in before Luka could say anything. “There’ll be fittings for the wedding dresses, and we’re not letting you lose contact again like that. We’ve missed you, right, Luka?”

Luka ignored Rose’s unsubtle nudge, and Marinette said her goodbyes to the rest of their friends.

“It’s good to see you again, Marinette,” he told her, and accepted the light bise she brushed against his cheek. He caught a hint of vanilla and sugar as she leaned in, and oh hell, it suddenly hit him why the smell of cookies had always left him with a faint and peculiar sense of homesickness when his mother had never baked a cookie in her life. He closed his eyes briefly, and let Marinette go before he could do something stupid.

Luka watched her safely down to the dock, and he absolutely was not fixating on the sway of those jeans as she walked away, holy crap, and turned back to meet Rose’s hopeful and utterly transparent look.

“So-oo,” his future sister-in-law said with overdone nonchalance. “You and Marinette looked like you were having a good time together.”

“Don’t go getting ideas, Ro.”

“Rose,” Juleka muttered warningly from the bench where she was sitting, but Rose ignored her.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said innocently. “I just want you to be happy Luka. It looked like you were really happy tonight. And it was great to see Marinette again.”

“No ideas,” he repeated, and Rose gave him a look of deep disappointment. She started collecting the empty takeaway containers, while Luka rounded up the glasses. Rose dropped a kiss on Juleka’s mouth on the way past, and flitted down into the galley. Juleka heaved a put-upon sigh, and swung herself gracefully to her feet, scooping up a couple of stray cushions.

Luka picked up Marinette’s wineglass, with the soft pink imprint of her lipstick.

“You didn’t mention that Marinette would be coming round,” he said, his back to his sister. “You didn’t mention that you’d been in touch with her again.”

Juleka shrugged, and dumped the cushions in one of the storage boxes on the deck. “Didn’t think it mattered. It was ten years ago. You’re not still hung up on what happened back then, are you?”

“No, of course not.” And he was pretty sure that was true. This felt like he’d been blindsided by Marinette Dupain-Cheng in a whole new way.

[justcourttee]

Okay that "Love,Right?" oneshot was wonderful but now you've got me obsessed with wondering how all the boys would fight for Mari's attention and all trying to date her omg

On an off note, I hope this came out alright. I really wanted to answer your ask but I’m running on low fumes rn. Loved thinking about this too though! I would love to read a more thought out fic, but I have to imagine it would go something like this

I could totally imagine like them all being relatively close in age. Like let’s say, 

Dick 23

Jason 21

Tim 20

Mari 18

Damian 17

And Mari is almost done with her last year of lycee so she is in uber done mode until the batboys show up in Paris conveniently at the same time that the Wayne boys show up to scout out a potential new business partner. 

She first meets Dick at the gymnasium that Chloe’s father had built for her when she went through a gymnastics phase but soon opened it to the public after she had moved on to whatever interested her next. Marinette is there to practice swinging mid-air to move faster in battle and what better way to do that than over a safety net 40 feet in the air?

Anywho, Dick is just arriving to blow off some steam after a particularly long day of negotiating. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the Hawkmoth mission and the need for a cover, he would’ve abandoned Tim ages ago. He finished locking up his stuff and when he moves into the acrobat section that is always empty, he isn’t sure whether to be impressed or disappointed that someone is there first. She looked nervous as she finished tying her hair into a high ponytail, her eyes calculating as if she was debating if she could make the first jump.

He wants to tell her that there is an easier way to mount, but his curiosity gets the better of him. With one last look, she closes her eyes, inhaling deeply. Without warning, she takes off down the short walkway launching her whole body into the air. Dick is sure she’s going to fall, but at the last minute she reaches out, her hand grasping the bar as she uses her momentum to flip upward, landing gracefully on top of the swinging trapeze. 

Dick couldn’t help his cheers. Her eyes widened as she realized someone else was watching her and in what felt like slow motion, she lost her balance and fell onto the net below. Dick rushes over to make sure she’s okay, apologizing a million times a minute. They introduce each other and it’s like an instant connection. They spend the rest of the afternoon trying new techniques and helping each other improve their own techniques. 

When Dick returns to the hotel that night, he can’t help the fact that her first swing was stuck on replay in his mind. The next day, he rushes over to the gym only to find her there again. This time, he’s determined to get her number, and surprisingly (to him) he succeeds. They spend the night trading funny memes and tiktoks. After a couple of weeks, Dick decides to try and ask her on a date. They were already close friends, I mean she trusted him enough not to drop her from forty feet in the air, that meant she trusted him right?

He shows up with a giant bouquet of roses only to receive a text message that she couldn’t make it that day. While it was a setback, it didn’t mean he was going to give up. He would show up with a bouquet of roses every day until she was there to receive them. And only then would he ask her on a date, because I can totally believe that he wouldn’t want to do it over text. It’s in-person or not at all.

The second Wayne she meets is Jason.

Muggings in Paris weren’t common with Ladybug and Chat Noir around, but it seemed to be Marinette’s lucky day as some guy just decided that a high school girl had enough money in her little purse to steal. As he backed her down an alleyway, a small hand knife pointed at her, Marinette was considering her options.

She could always try to run. After all, the guy was big and bulky, it would be hard for him to keep up with her and she doubted he wanted her bag enough to actually put up a fight. Just as she was eyeing an opening, a small sound echoed through the alleyway, one she was quite familiar with. The guy’s face looked mortified as he turned slowly to face his attacker. 

The man said something in a hushed tone to the guy that Marinette couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was though, it was enough for her would-be assailant to book it out of the alleyway without a glance back. Assessing her newest threat, Marinette decided that this guy was more punk than thug. She was safe for now. 

He asked her if she was okay and if she needed anything as he adjusted his gun back into his waistband. Marinette was fine, but she was curious as to how he smuggled a gun into France. 

“Ah. My American accent give me away Princess?”

His french was flawless, but it was clear that he wasn’t from the area. He joked that his adopted father was rich enough for the national security to look past it. At least, she was pretty sure he was joking. 

He asks if they can grab something to eat, just because a pretty girl like her shouldn’t go hungry. Marinette is tempted to decline, but her curiosity gets the better of her. They end up going to a small diner near her parent’s bakery where they spend the night flirting shamelessly, both tinging their compliments with enough sarcasm and insults that the people around them couldn’t tell if they were together or if they were related. 

Exchanging numbers, the two continued to meet up for weekly dinners at that same diner as they bond over hating people and insulting/admiring each other. When Jason finally realizes his flirting may have shifted from mocking to an actual crush, he's conflicted. It’s just a couple months, at most a year in Paris, but would that really be a reason not to try? He starts bringing her small gifts to the dinners, starting out small like her favorite dessert or small rocks that reminded him of her, but he soon gets more elaborate like bringing her his favorite books to borrow and throwing in a new set of threads for her sewing machine. 

He hopes that when she looks at the small gifts that she’ll start associating him with the things that make her happy and just maybe, she’ll fall for him too. 

I think you guys already know where Tim is going but I have to do this 

Marinette frequents a small coffee shop near the hotel that the Wayne Boys are staying in. She would just drink the coffee that her parents serve in the bakery, but they refused to let her load up her drinks with enough caffeine to get through her day. 

She always shows up at 7:00a, after all, she’s gotten better at this punctuality thing over the years. The owners already expect her at this point and already have her drink ready before she even steps foot through the door.

One morning, one of the owners ask her to deliver a coffee to the young man that fell asleep at one of their tables. 

“He’s the first person I’ve met whose order rivals yours Ms. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette is impressed as she inhales the strong black coffee wafting from the mug. He definitely amped it up with two expresso shots and maybe a pump of hazelnut? If he could taste it over the bitterness of the expresso, she would be impressed.

As she sat the cup down on the table, she slid into the booth in front of him, patiently waiting for him to stir. Watching his soft exhales, Marinette felt at peace. She had never seen someone sleep so softly without moving a muscle. As quietly as she could, she brought out her sketchbook. She got about halfway through his frame when his soft breathing stopped. 

Her eyes snapped up to find his blue ones studying her cautiously. Of course, she mutters out apologizes at a million miles a minute, trying to explain that she needed practice for her living art class and that she was just dropping off his coffee and she was so sorry for drawing him without his permission. As she finally trails off, Marinette is more confused than ever. She thought he was awake, his eyes studying her, but now she wasn’t so confident. She was pretty sure he was still half asleep, assuming she was some sort of hallucination.

He reached out, draining his cup of coffee without coming up for a single breath.

“I didn’t think I was this sleep-deprived. Please beautiful sleep-induced entity, draw me if you must.”

Marinette bites her lip trying not to laugh as he tiredly pulls out a laptop, typing away at seemingly nothing. 

The next day, Marinette finds him in his same spot, already two empty mugs occupying the table. As she orders, she’s sure to grab an extra one for him before joining him once more. This time, Tim is the one to apologize as he realizes finally that she is a real girl and not a hallucination. 

Marinette laughs it off and the briefly chat about their lives. As Marinette gets up to leave for her morning classes, she promises to meet him for coffee the next morning. Surely enough, as she walks through the door, he’s already at their booth. He waves her over, motioning to the coffee mug holding her go-to order. They come to an agreement, he allows her to draw him for practice, she offers him the occasional advice. There is sometimes small talk, but it’s mostly just full of comfort that they found in each other’s presence. 

After weeks, Tim finally decides that he wants to get to know this beautiful coffee angel. He starts by asking her to meet at a bakery that he had been dying to try. As he arrives at the bakery, Marinette sheepishly admits that it was her parent’s bakery. Tim feigns ignorance, but that smirk he gives her makes her reconsider the innocent sleep-deprived man she had met weeks earlier. From now on, he has breakfast with the Dupain-Cheng family every morning. After all, your in-laws have to like you first before you can try anything else, right?

Finally, we have Damian. 

They meet in the living art class. He had already taken something similar at Gotham Academy, but he was curious to see the French side of something he cherished so dearly. 

At first, he hates her. She reminds him of a mixture between Dick and Tim and in all honesty, he only volunteered to pretend to be a foreign exchange student to spend the majority of the day away from his brothers. 

He slowly begins to change his mind though as he is partnered with her for a partner draw project. The teacher forces them to spend all of class drawing each other how they feel the world should see their partner. It involved a lot of sharing and as she became more confident in him, he slowly felt himself opening up to this strange girl as well. 

It was going fine until one day, two of her old classmates entered the classroom, trying to pick a fight with Damian. He remembered one of them, yes the sausage haired girl, her name was Lily perhaps? She tried to ask him out and he turned her down, hard. Now here she was, crying the fakest tears he had ever seen as some ombre haired woman was chewing him out. 

He was fine going on ignoring them, but then the ombre haired woman reached out for his notebook, tearing it from his grasps. She glanced over it for a second before raising it above her head and slamming it into the ground. She lifted her foot to stomp on it, but she never had a chance to finish. Before Damian had even moved a muscle, Marinette was standing above her, a murderous look in her eyes. The sausage haired woman helped the girl to her feet as they retreated quickly, both of their faces pale as they sent empty threats in Marinette’s direction. 

With a sigh, Marinette picked up his notebook, dusting it off gently before handing it back to him, apologizing for her ex-classmates. He wanted to let her know that he didn’t need her to look out for him, that he could handle it, but his mind flashed to the look in her eyes. If anything, his interest was now piqued by the girl. 

As the project came to an end, the moment of truth had finally come. Damian showed Marinette her portrait. He had drawn her as mother nature, warm and protective of her children and cold to anyone that threatened them. He would be lying if the small blush on her face didn’t boost his pride. When she showed Damian his portrait, he couldn’t help but let his jaw drop, even slightly. 

He looked like a medieval knight, posing on the defense, a slight trickle of what looked like blood dripping out the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, please don’t think it’s weird. It’s just the more you talked, and so passionately too about how you wanted to protect everything dear to you from your family to your pets, I couldn’t help but get swept away in this idea that you were some gallant knight-”

He cut her off with a single look as his face broke into a grin. He loved it. Everyone always described him as a demon or a baby bird, but a gallant knight, it was certainly a first.

That night at the hotel, he would search google for the best ways to ask out a girl. After all, he sure as hell wasn’t asking his brothers.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat

[lalainajanes]

This completes column #2 on my bingo card, the square was “Eager Backstage Groupie”

Another Shot of Courage

 Saturday, May 1st, 8:16 AM

Caroline wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in the little black dress she'd worn to Kat's birthday party, with a headache and a foul-tasting mouth. She's sprawled in the middle of a very large mattress, so the first thing Caroline does is explore. She stretches her arms out tentatively, expecting to poke someone (hopefully an unobjectionable someone) awake.

She appears to be alone, and Caroline relaxes into the fluffy pillows. She wiggles experimentally, satisfied when her bra and underwear dig into uncomfortable areas and gives in to the temptation to burrow under the duvet.

She just needs a minute to regret her life choices before she confronts them. Caroline sighs, stretches, and her fuzzy head begins to clear, memories sharpening.

And yikes.

Can she stay in her self-made blanket fort forever? A lot of her conduct last night had been highly irrational, some of it downright hypocritical. She is a public relations professional, highly sought after. Her clients pay many pretty pennies for her services.

Had she seriously mauled Klaus Mikaelson in one of the trendiest clubs in LA?

Caroline tugs down the blanket, intent on confirming her suspicions, allowing her to look around and study the room with new eyes.

There's a brick fireplace at the end of the bed, a wide armchair in front of it – not particularly revealing. Her eyes flick to the left. There's nothing, but dark curtains pulled tight over a wall of windows.

When she looks to the right, there's a smoking gun. Well, kind of. It's a drafting table, an easel, and shelves featuring paintbrushes, haphazardly stacked sketchbooks, and a bunch of other things that Caroline doesn't currently have the brainpower to identify.

She considers slipping out of bed and checking to see if those curtains cover any kind of door. She thinks it's logical to assume so. She's only been to Klaus' home a few times, tries to insist they meet at her office. She's never ventured far beyond the kitchen and living rooms, but it's a Spanish-style bungalow on a sprawling lot. Why wouldn't he have a walk out into the yard from his bedroom?

She discards the idea with some regret. Running away without a word is a coward's move and would probably backfire. Klaus is still her client, whatever psychosis had gripped Caroline last night, and it's not like she could dump him via email at this point. He's got a huge movie coming in three weeks, and they're flying to London tomorrow to begin the premiere tour. She could probably pass it on to another publicist, but she'd still be on the hook, would have to coordinate her plans long-distance.

Selfishly, Caroline hopes that's not necessary. She'd hate for someone else to reap the benefits of her hard work.

She heaves herself into a sitting position, wincing when her head throbs. Her stomach seems solid, with no hint of queasiness, so that's a plus. Caroline tosses the covers aside, shifts until her legs slide over the side of the bed. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror through the open closet door and cringes.

She'd done an excellent smoky eye last night, and it's migrated all over her face. She doesn't even want to consider how long it's going to take to detangle her hair. She decides she can wait a bit to hunt down Klaus, stepping forward and twisting the knob on the closed door. "Jackpot," Caroline mutters, walking into Klaus' bathroom. There's a stack of towels on the counter, and she figures it won't hurt to take a shower.

She'd had her tongue in his mouth and had apparently kicked him out of his bed, so what's one more presumption?

Friday, April 30th, 10:47 PM

In the VIP lounge Kat had rented, elevated above the main dance floor, Caroline waves away a shot of tequila. She'd had one during the birthday toast, wine at dinner. Had just ordered an overpriced cocktail. She's pleasantly tipsy but needs to pace herself because she can't get too drunk tonight.

Besides, Caroline and tequila have a complicated relationship.

Kat boos her, a few of the other girls joining in. Caroline laughs, "I know, I'm boring. I have a million things to do tomorrow to make sure I'm ready to live out of a suitcase for weeks."

Katherine scoffs, "Just make Klaus buy you anything you forget. What good is a guy who's hot for you and makes big fat superhero movie paychecks if he won't buy you pretty things?"

They've discussed this a bajillion times. Caroline has actually run away from this exact conversation, shouting nonsense syllables, with her fingers jammed in her ear, as if she and Katherine still fight over Barbies and who gets to wear dress-up trunk's best princess dress.

Caroline still can't resist arguing – it's a character flaw. "He's my client. That's it."

"Oh, please. Men in this town bone their clients all the time."

"That doesn't make it okay!"

Usually, this is the part where Katherine tries to convince her that Klaus is dying to be boned – her words, not Caroline's – but she gets distracted, squinting across the bar. Kat's lips curl, expression growing sly, "It appears my argument is moot."

Um, what? Katherine's literally never backed down from an argument in the twenty-plus years they've been friends. Puzzled, Caroline turns, trying to see what caught Kat's attention.

The club features several VIP lounges, each located at the top of a short staircase and decorated with wide velvet sofas and crystal chandeliers. There's an attendant who keeps booze and food flowing. It's clever – the sofas are inviting and squishy, tend to force people close together. The chandeliers ensure that anyone who happens to take a picture can get a decent shot, and the free flow of liquor has lowered the inhibitions of at least half a dozen celebrities, resulting in photos that send the gossip blogs into a tizzy as soon as they hit the internet.

When Caroline spots Klaus across the way, a redheaded model sprawled in his lap, she's immediately fuming.

"Looks like he got tired of waiting," Kat drawls. "Wanna reconsider the tequila?"

"Katherine. I love you. But zip it."

Katherine makes a face but leaves Caroline alone, turning to another one of their friends and asking a question. Caroline takes a deep breath, counts to ten.

She'd busted her ass to make him appear family-friendly enough to land the movie with the very PR-conscious studio that had netted him the big fat checks Katherine had just been crowing over. He's jeopardizing that on the eve of the most significant press tour of his career.

She looks over again, leaning forward. The redhead's moved away, she's sitting at Klaus' side, and they now appear to be merely engaged in conversation. Caroline does her best to think like a photographer – is there an angle that could make the scene look tawdry?

Probably not. So really, Klaus isn't jeopardizing anything.

Caroline's anger doesn't cool at the revelation.

She's so screwed.

She's on her feet before she decides to be, stalking down the stairs. She hears Katherine yelling borderline lewd encouragement at her back, but Caroline knows better than to take her advice.

She's marching over to diffuse, not inflame.

Hopefully.

Saturday, May 1st, 9:01 AM

She finds Klaus in his living room, asleep, his legs hanging awkwardly over the arm of a too-short couch, his torso twisted so awkwardly that Caroline's back twinges sympathetically. With the confirmation that she had stolen his bed, more of Caroline's irritation fades. The shower had helped, as had the bottle of water she'd guzzled and the three Tylenol she'd popped.

She takes a seat on his coffee table, setting down her second bottle of water. Caroline reaches out, shaking his shoulder gently. "Klaus," she murmurs when he begins to stir. "Wake up."

She could probably leave him to sleep. Klaus' stylist will handle most of his packing; he's borrowed a dizzying volume of outfits and accessories for Klaus to wear on this trip. The announcement won't come for another two weeks, but Klaus is shooting a Dior cologne ad once his press obligations wrap. The brand had requested he start wearing the newest line. Caroline had attended the last fitting, and she'd had a hard time keeping her blatant ogling under wraps.

Klaus looks good in ratty jeans, in a suit tailored to his measurements? Just about anyone attracted to men would have struggled not to appreciate the sight.

That's how Caroline had justified letting her emails pile up that afternoon.

She'd been a little worried about her control slipping on this trip, once they were alone in the hotel, and Klaus dropped the shiny, press-perfect façade he's learned to maintain. Caroline had designed that mask to appeal to the broadest possible audience. Doing interview prep has unfortunately only emphasized how much more she likes Klaus without it.

Klaus stretches, eyes fluttering open. "Good morning," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep. "I hope you slept better than I did."

Caroline winces, "Don’t you have a guest room or two you could have shoved me in?”

He smiles lazily, “You were quite insistent on touring my bedroom.”

Her eyes slam shut, face heating, “And that is why I don’t drink tequila unsupervised,” she grumbles.

He laughs, sitting up, his legs bracketing hers. He reaches for her water bottle and helps himself to a sip. Caroline leans back, fishing the Tylenol out of the pocket of the hoodie she’d stolen from his closet. She’d needed something bulkier to hide the fact she hadn’t been able to convince herself to strap her bra back on. “Do you want these?” she asks, rattling the bottle.

Klaus shakes his head, “I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink at all, and you stole that shot of tequila that was meant for me, remember?”

Ohhh no. She’d forgotten about that. She’d stolen his and the model’s.

Which, in hindsight, goes a long way to explaining what had happened after. Caroline’s problem with tequila is that once she starts, she has a hard time stopping. It heightens her usually non-existent impulsive streak, leads to sub-par decisions.

Occasionally, tequila does make her clothes fall off.

Caroline buries her hands in her face, wishing she hadn’t tied her hair back. She’s mortified, probably growing splotchy. “I am so sorry,” she mutters.

Klaus sighs, tries to tug her hands away. Caroline resists, tensing her muscles, wishes she’d gone with her first instinct and fled out the backdoor. He rests his hands on her knees, squeezing, voice dipping into coaxing tones. “No apology necessary. I’m not the least bit upset.”

Unfortunately, Caroline’s totally up to the task of being upset enough for the both of them.

Friday, April 30th, 10:53 PM

Once the attendant in Klaus VIP area confirms that he does know Caroline and lets her up the stairs, Klaus has managed to increase the distance between his body and the model’s. He seems pleased to see her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to sit next to him on the couch.

Close enough that they’re connected thigh to shoulder.

The model, whose name Caroline doesn’t particularly care about, is less welcoming. She glares daggers at Caroline’s hand, still enclosed in Klaus’. He makes polite introductions. “Genevieve, this is my publicist and very good friend, Caroline Forbes. Caroline, Genevieve. She’s a friend of Kol’s.”

Klaus’ younger brother is also an actor, still firmly in the throes of his wild child phase. Caroline finds him entertaining, despite her best intentions, but he’s known to delight in making her job more complicated. She glances around suspiciously, “Is Kol here?”

Klaus gestures vaguely to the dance floor. “Somewhere. He dragged me out to celebrate a pilot he booked, then disappeared.”

Hmm, that could lead to disaster. Caroline wonders if she should shoot his publicist a text as a professional courtesy.

Caroline smiles at Genevieve sharply, “So sweet of you to keep Klaus company.” It’s mean, but Caroline wonders if Genevieve has somehow heard about Klaus’ Dior deal through the grapevine. Maybe she’s aiming for a co-starring role – Caroline’s read the treatment for the commercial; it’s supposed to be streamy.

Oh, good lord, High School Caroline has somehow time traveled and taken over her body.

Genevieve pastes on an equally fake smile (at least Caroline’s not the only one regressing). Before she can snipe back, a silver tray is set in front of them, two shots resting on it. The attendant catches Caroline’s eye, “Can I get you anything, Miss?”

Klaus interrupts, squeezes her hand in an absent apology, “Sorry, there must be some mistake. I ordered a water.”

He’s contractually obligated to maintain a ridiculously chiseled body. Caroline’s got a reminder in her phone to order him a pile of celebratory spaghetti after his press obligations are officially over and he can relax for a few months.

The attendant’s eyes flit to Genevieve in confusion, “I…”

“I cancelled that,” she chirps, sliding her hand up Klaus’ arm. Genevieve leans in, tone lowering to what Caroline thinks is supposed to be a seductive level. “Figured we would toast.”

Caroline catches it because she’s practically plastered to Klaus’ other side. “Who toasts with tequila?” she asks. “Other than creeps at bars, I mean.”

Had Caroline not been well acquainted with Katherine Pierce, she might have been intimidated by Genevieve's attempt at a lethal glare.

Caroline stares back, reaching blindly for the first shot. She tosses it back, then the second, fighting the shudder that wants to wrack her frame through sheer willpower alone.

“Bitch,” Genevieve mutters, standing and flouncing away.

It’s petty, but Caroline savors her win.

Klaus is staring at her oddly, a touch concerned. “Maybe we should get you some water, love.”

Saturday, May 1st, 9:04 AM

“There were more shots when I got back to Kat’s party,” Caroline moans. “I’m going to kill her. She knows my weaknesses.”

“While I am reluctant to defend your irritating friend, she did seem rather intent on her fun. It was her birthday, wasn’t it?”

Caroline nods, “Yeah. And Kat’s always been firmly convinced that she should get to do whatever her little black heart desires on her birthday.”

“She did insist I ensure you get home safely. I’m afraid you were rather reluctant to supply your address.”

She sighs, finally dropping her hands. “Honestly, I just moved into a condo. I might not have remembered it.” That’s the less embarrassing option. It’s probably more likely that tequila drunk Caroline had crafted a plan to seduce Klaus, and step one entailed getting invited to his house. “I know you said not to apologize, but I obviously put you out. I’m supposed to babysit you, not the other way around.”

Klaus laughs, his knee nudging hers. “I haven’t needed that for ages, as you well know.”

He has a point – Caroline likely wouldn’t have agreed to take him on if he was still indulging in public drunkenness and paparazzi punching. When she’d first met with Klaus, it had been out of curiosity. She’d made a comfortable living from her client roster, did not need to take on the project of a difficult actor.

Klaus’ bad behavior had been a few years in the past, and he’d just come off a run of festival darlings and had produced a surprise hit sci-fi drama. He’d been frustrated by the doors that remained firmly shut to him, had laid his ambitions on the table.

Caroline had been intrigued. While she’s excellent at her job, but it’s always easier to work her magic with clients who are willing to dive into the work. Klaus’ talent was undeniable; she’d thought he could be a household name with the right opportunity. She’d agreed to take him on, and three years later, it’s paid off.

Caroline tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over her hands, eyes on the frayed trim. “I was mad when I saw you last night, and that wasn’t fair. You’d set you were resting up for the press tour, but it’s not my business if you changed your mind.”

“Did you think I was resuming some bad habits?” Klaus asks. “I know that particular venue has a… reputation. Probably why Kol picked it.”

Caroline sneaks a glance at him, trying to gauge how he feels, but he’s not giving much away. “No, not really. I trust you. I wasn’t thinking super logically.”

She has to admit, at least to herself, that she’d been jealous. Caroline’s going to have to think about how deep that goes, if the feelings that had slapped her in the face last night will prevent their working relationship from being effective. What if Klaus meets someone? Will she be able to plant sneaky tidbits about how happy they are, scour the gossip blogs for rumors that could become issues?

“You? Not thinking logically? However could that be?”

She glares at him, though she knows his teasing is good-natured. “Some of it was the booze. I totally wouldn’t have hauled you onto the dance floor without it. And I wouldn’t have… well, you were there.”

She’s not up to list her transgressions. If Klaus hadn’t been drinking, then his memory of her wandering hands, her flirtatious comments, and heated invitations should be crystal clear. Caroline had been drunk, and she’s having a hard time not dwelling on the kiss – which, to be fair, Klaus had enthusiastically participated in – that she’d initiated.

“I was there. I have no objections to anything that occurred last night, save perhaps wishing you’d been sober.” Her head snaps up, eyes widening in shock, and Klaus laughs incredulously. “Surely you must know of my interest in you, Caroline.”

She’s suspected, but she’s also well aware that Klaus has no shortage of offers. Last night is proof of that. Caroline has always assumed that take one of them, at some point, and his flirtatiousness with her would fade away. She’d dated an actor or two when she’d moved to LA after wrapping up college. Caroline had been working insane hours then, trying to claw her way past the other assistants at the agency where she’d worked. Her exes from that time period had been quick to move on once they realized she wasn’t willing to center her universe around them.

“Interest can be fleeting.”

“It’s been three years.”

“You never made a real move.”

Again, Klaus counters quickly. “You’d not have accepted, and then you’d likely have pawned me off on someone else.”

Yeah, he’s got a point there. “I’m your publicist.”

“I have no objection to mixing business with pleasure. If you do, I suppose I’m willing to suffer a less competent publicist.”

“I’m beginning to suspect you’ve been plotting.”

Klaus shrugs, entirely unrepentant. “Perhaps a bit. I’ve always been entirely honest with you, I merely prevented a situation that would lessen the time we spent together until such a time as you were ready to consider me in a romantic light.”

“That’s a lot of words to confess you’ve been trying to flirt me into submission while flashing your hot body at every opportunity,” Caroline grumbles.

Klaus’ smile widens, dimples now visible. “It seems to have worked. Assuming that you meant the things you said to me last night?”

“I…” she hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that directly. She should have been – Klaus is skilled at choosing the best way to catch someone off guard. Caroline glances away from him, eyes catching on the clock across the room. Crap. She has so much to do. “I have to go,” Caroline tells him, standing up.

His eyes narrow,  and his head tips to the side, like he’s searching for a sign of weakness. Both telltale indicators that Klaus is gearing up to argue. Caroline holds up a hand, “I know, okay? This looks like I’m running away, and technically I am, but this is not the time to begin that mixing you mentioned. We’ve both worked too hard to risk screwing up the next few weeks. Did you read your contract? The fines for non-compliance are no joke.”

“Now is not the time,” Klaus says slowly. “Meaning?”

“We table it now. I’m open to a discussion later.” Three weeks is plenty of time for her to sort out where she stands, right? Caroline never sleeps on flights anyway.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I want a timeline. I understand that you feel obligated to ensure this press tour goes smoothly, but you can only use it as an excuse until it’s over, love. I’m prepared to be persuasive.”

“What, do you want me to schedule something on your calendar? Maybe set an agenda?”

“No need to be so formal. Just agree to have dinner with me once we return. Here, if you’d like, so we don’t risk inflaming the tabloids before you’re ready.”

“You seem awfully sure that this is going to go a certain way. So eager to fire me?”

Klaus gets to his feet, and Caroline sucks in a nervous breath. Sitting across from each other, he’d been a reasonable distance away. Now, with both of them standing in the narrow gap between his couch and coffee table, if one of them breathes too deeply or shifts deliberately, they’ll be plastered together.

She’s tempted despite knowing she’s right about the timing.

Klaus rests his hand on her waist and turns them so Caroline could step back if she wanted to.

She stays where she is.

A tiny smile curls Klaus’ lips and his hand moves, pressing her closer. “As much as I enjoyed your more… explicit ramblings last night, I must confess my favorite revelation was when you confessed to just how long you’ve had them.”

Caroline, not for the first time, curses tequila’s wretched existence.

Wednesday, May 5th 2:20 PM

The meet and greets are going to kill her.

Caroline had thought they were a good idea when she’d poured through the itinerary the studio had sent over. Inviting popular bloggers, auctioning off tickets for charity, allowing fans to enter random draws – it’s great PR and provides the opportunity for viral moments, while also controlling the environment.

Caroline’s leaning against one of the walls, unnoticed, eyes on her client.

A lot of eyes are on her client, some of which irritate Caroline more than others. The two teenage girls, trailed by an exasperated dad, who’d both burst into tears when Klaus had smiled at them? Totally adorable. The nerdy college student who’d grilled Klaus about his character’s comic backstory? Kind of a pain, but Klaus had done his homework, and Caroline had been impressed.

And annoyed. Excessive preparation is very attractive and unhelpful at this juncture of the press tour. Caroline’s already begun to reconsider what they’d agreed to, wonders if knocking on his hotel room door on the last night would be such a bad thing.

That line of thinking might be overly influenced by the scene in front of her.

Klaus is speaking with a woman in an afternoon inappropriate silver dress. Caroline’s sorely tempted to have her escorted out by security. She’d slipped a key card into the back pocket of Klaus’ jeans within 90 seconds of meeting him.

He’s handed it back, said something that made her laugh. They’re still talking.

Klaus glances up, eyes landing on her immediately. Caroline hastily tries to soften her irritated expression lest he guesses its reason. Klaus smiles, subtly tips his water bottle in her direction. Silver Dress invades his personal space a little more.

Ugh. It’s gonna be a long three weeks.

[fishiegil]

Can I get ray and Norman from the promised neverland with a s/o who is an artist

As an artist myself, I would love to write that for you, Anon, dearest. 😌 They are such cutie-pies, and I looooved writing this, WOW. 🤍🖤 This is set during a time before the truth of the House is revealed, by the way. IT TOOK FOREVER, I’M SO SORRY! Here you go!! Also, OOPS, NORMAN SORT OF PROPOSED. -♓︎

I headcanon that:

If Norman has an s/o who is an artist...

Neither of the boys are very vocal about it, but Norman’s method of supporting your hobby is gentle and satisfying.

“Hey, Norman!”

“Wha-? WhaAUGH!?”

Norman is downright spooked by your voice in his ear and proceeds to fall on his butt in the dirt. You dangle, upside-down, from a branch of one of the biggest trees in this patch of the forest. It’s earned the spot as your favorite tree; it’s heavily shaded, and has smooth branches big enough to have picnics on. Norman sounds beat when you hop down and take his hand.

“F/n! There you are... I’ve been looking- WAH!”

You eagerly yank him to a standing position, curling your fingers into the dips of his knuckles with one hand and wrapping your free one around his waist. For a hot second, his composure is gone with the wind, and he goes a cute pink in the face.

He’s totally frazzled as he stutters out, “F/n?! What- what is, I-I mean- What are-"

“It’s done!”

He freezes for a second, but when he remembers the newest project you’ve been working on nonstop to finish, a delightful grin curves his lips and reaches his eyes. You’re both positively bouncing with the anticipation on your way up the tree, to your branch. Your easel and canvas rest on the flattest surface, covered in a white sheet.

Norman always gets excited when you showcase your projects to him first. You’re big on painting, and capturing nature is your forte.

He gasps with a childlike wonder as you reveal your masterpiece.

You paid careful attention to detail; the color-changing leaves on the tree writhed to life above the twisting tree branch, representing the untamed mystery that is nature. The warm colors of fall dominate the piece, unified by the closure of the outskirts of the painting. Some real leaves had flown in your direction and stuck to the painting, so they became part of it.

Norman’s no art critic, but he knows you have a way with combining your passion with Mother Nature, and fully believes that everything you paint couldn’t be balanced out more perfectly.

“It’s amazing,” he breathes. You wield a proud smile, and pull him to sit with you. For a while, you sit together and just look on at it. But while you’re totally scrutinizing it, Norman is appreciating it, and you. When he speaks again, his voice is dreamy.

“F/n... When we grow up, and I get a job, and earn enough money to travel all over the outside world, would you... Would you marry me, and then, we can travel all the time, and you can paint every landscape you’ve ever wanted.” He looks at you when you just laugh.

“Norman, you’re so silly.” You’re going to marry him anyway, whether he has money or not.

His lips press into a bashful squiggle, with his eyes squeezed shut. But a smooch to the apple of his cheek makes them pop open again.

“Your silly is my favorite.” 🤍

If Ray has an s/o who is an artist...

Ray’s as aloof as the Grace Field kids come.

“Thank you, Mama!” Ray turns to see Mama hand you a sleek, black sketchbook. She had it shipped to the House when you informed her you entirely filled your old one.

Sure, Ray knows of your devotion to art. He also knows that you’re the timid type about it. So timid, in fact, that Ray actually has no clue exactly what kind of art it is you do. Do you paint? Or do you press flowers, perhaps?

You have shown your art to precisely one person: Emma. She’s the least opinionated kid in Grace Field. As a matter of fact, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her whole body. The younger children have much to say, and can be cruelly honest, as young children are. As fate would have it, you are of the faint at heart. Not once have you ever put yourself in a position to be criticized.

He’s something of a hypocrite, but if anyone asks, he’ll deny it. He has secretive tendencies, but if the situation concerns you, he’ll poke his nosey nose into anything and everything.

He doesn’t say this out loud ever, but he’s petty because only Emma has seen your works. You don’t even accidentally leave the full sketchbooks lying around for him to snoop, how dare you.

So one late evening, he trudges after you to your little drawing space; it’s not much other than a secluded corner, cushioned by blankets and pillows, tented by an old sheet Mama let you keep. A tiny lamp provides just enough light for you in that dark corner. You hold an ink pen, scribbling away.

“Hey.” Your heart jumps to your throat, and you scramble to hide your latest page.

You peek out over the cover. The innocence of your round, curious eyes have Ray’s heart skipping.

“You’ve only ever shown Emma your art before. Can’t I see?”

It’s quiet. For a long while, that’s how you both stay. He just stares at you, saying nothing else. You do just as much.

When he thinks that he should give up, you quietly give in. “I-... Okay...”

He invites himself in your tent and plops his butt down right next to you, so you’re shoulder to shoulder. An arm snakes around your stomach before he lets out a quiet, but clearly stunned, “Oh.”

A page is already filled from top to bottom with various sketches. Nonsensical patterns, objects that lay around the House, and even some of your siblings found their way into your sketchbook. In the top right corner, you had drawn him, too. Three times, actually. One cleaned sketch, one with smooth line art, and one shaded in with ink.

The drawing of him with his signature floof of hair out of his eyes catches his attention. You clearly paid the most care to that one. All he can do is smirk.

“You like it when my hair’s outta my face?”

You choke on air and whirl in his direction, preparing for a judgemental look which you assume you’re about to get.

Leisurely, he sweeps a hand up his face, pushing his fringe behind his ear. When it’s secure, he flashes you a relaxed grin. Finally, finally, you crack a smile. It’s a radiant, grateful smile, and it reaches from ear-to-ear. Without a word, you bury your face in his neck, nuzzling into his shirt. You laugh, feeling silly for thinking Ray would judge you harshly at all. His cheeks flash with red, but he only squeezes you a little more.

The other kids have enough sense not to invade your private space when you’re working. Ray does not. It doesn’t apply to him because he’s your boyfriend, don’t you know. (That’s how he words it, at least.)

These days, he comes to your side in your tent and just watches you draw. The scent of ink on fresh parchment is relaxing. He pushes his fringe away from his face more often, but claims that it’s just a new habit, shut up. When he does, you give him a little kissy on the cheek you now get to see.

“Mrrghmhm.” He grumbles but he likes it, don’t even lie, Ray.

He has nice handwriting, and occasionally leaves a smooth, pretty heart at the bottom, or a smiley face with its tongue out, and you let him. He’s a corn dog.

Not long after, he convinces you to show your art to everyone else. To your utter relief, you don’t have to worry about the kids being rude—they quickly fall in love with your art style and beg you to draw around them more.

Thoma and Lanni are the “CAN YOU PLEASE DRAW ME” kids.

You’re infinitely grateful for Ray’s ability to coax you out of your shell. You couldn't be happier. 🖤

[airi-p4]

From above the stars - Chapter 7

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | ... 

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Sorry for the long wait! I’m not forgetting about this story!! I love it and I’m stopping overthinking it so it can progress at last. I hope you enjoy 💙

Chapter summary:

Gabriel offers Marinette something unexpected she can't refuse. At the same time, Luka stops coming to the cemetery, and she can't help but worry: he had promised her he wouldn't disappear...

AO3

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CHAPTER 7 - Lost

Marinette was staring at Luka's only message on her phone, dated from the previous morning (the one he sent to confirm his contact), when she received a SMS: Gabriel Agreste.

She felt uneasy from being summoned again by her late ex-boyfriend's cold father, but despite hating the idea of meeting him, she got ready to pay him a visit. Gabriel Agreste received her coldly as always, but this time, instead of mourning his son, he had an offer she didn’t expect.

"Marinette. I want to reassume the fashion business. I need someone talented to take care of the designs of Agreste’s future collections and I’m confident you could fill in for that job position. I've seen your sketchbooks and Adrien was right: you're very talented."

Marinette didn't know what to say. It's true Adrien had mentioned showing her designs to his father, but he always ended up apologizing because, in the end, Gabriel would never listen to him. Marinette didn't have much time to think as his suggestion progressed.

"Bring me a few new designs the day after tomorrow and we can discuss this matter further. Take it as a test to see if you’re fit for that job position" He asked.

"The- the day after tomorrow…? I- haven't drawn much lately, I'm not sure I can-"

"I'm sure you won't disappoint me. I would really appreciate it if you joined the Agreste empire. You're the only one I can trust"

Marinette felt sick. Not only because of the autoritharism he launched towards her, but also by the word 'trust'. Was it fair he ‘trusted’ her when she was already moving on from the love she used to have for Adrien- his son? Wasn't she betraying both father and son if she accepted Gabriel Agreste's offer? What options did she have, though? She couldn't refuse- she had had her part to blame for the accident and had to take responsibility for her actions. For Adrien...

"Thank you, Mister Agreste. I- I'll try…" she answered unsecure.

"Good. You can go now. You have some designs to work with. See you the day after tomorrow, here, at the same time"

Marinette nodded at Gabriel's cold back in front of her before passing through the main gates of the mansion to the street. She would have been happy to receive a chance like this when she dated Adrien, but now…? She wasn't sure if she wanted it anymore. She knew she needed a job other than helping at her parents' bakery, but how was she supposed to design anything after months without properly working on her fashion designs? Moreover, working with Gabriel made her uneasy. She could already feel the pressure on her shoulders from a task she shouldn't have trouble to accomplish under normal circumstances. These weren't normal circumstances. She didn't belong to the Agreste family anymore, yet she couldn't find the courage to tell Mister Agreste- or worse: to disappoint him. He needed her and she didn't want to fail his expectations- especially when she felt she was partly at fault for his son's passing.

Snapping from her never-ending thoughts about her new job offer, Marinette checked Luka's message on her phone again. ‘Thank you for today’. No matter how many times she read it, it never failed to help her find some calm. Unknowingly, she would always embrace her phone and smile at it. 'I want to see you' Marinette thought on her way to the cemetery, after buying some flowers.

___________________________________

Marinette knew she was supposed to work on her designs instead of waiting for Luka, but she couldn't stop herself. She waited, patiently, for hours, even for longer than the time he usually left… but nothing: he didn't come.

It wasn't like him to miss his visit to his sisters. Plus, he had promised her he wouldn’t disappear as long as anything unexpected happened. Marinette became anxious. 'Did anything happen to him? Did he catch a cold during the chill night? Did he become wary of her for depending and relying so much on him? Was his promise out of pity?' She couldn't know the answer.

Lonely and distracted, she went to Trocadero, where she usually hung around- either to babysit Manon, to draw and design or on her dates with Adrien- a place full of memories and her favorite corner in Paris. She expected to find the inspiration that used to overflow whenever she held a pencil in her favorite drawing spot.

She sat at the stairs and looked at her surroundings: the majestic Eiffel tower in front of her, the merry-go-round at her right, with cheerful children playing on it, the candy and ice-cream stalls at the left side. A pair of skaters racing, couples, families and groups of friends were also what Marinette's eyes usually enjoyed observing. She tried to look for inspiration on the landscape, but nothing. Her eyes may have been looking at Trocadero, but her head was somewhere else: Luka. She couldn't help but worry something bad may have happened to him.

Inspiration didn't hit as she called it a day. Still concerned, she read Luka's message again before going to sleep.

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The next day the story repeated: her last message was still not marked as read, and Luka didn't appear at the cemetery. Two days in a row without him was starting to be too hard for her heart. She spent the afternoon at Trocadero again, and when she didn't expect it, as a way to cover her impatience and negativity, her solitude, her fears and her desire to meet him became her sole inspiration.

The morning after, Marinette woke up early to go to Agreste's mansion. Gabriel welcomed her with a hug, and soon he asked for her sketchbook. The old man's strict eyes observed: every detail, every color, every choice of fabrics… Marinette could feel his judging eyes on her through her pencil-drawn sketches.

"Marinette" Gabriel called after closing the sketchbook, and turning to face her with piercing eyes. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I- My new designs…" she answered, scared of his glacial look on her.

"This… this is absolutely worthless" he coldly stated, startling Marinette. "I can understand the negative and longing feelings, but this?” he signaled. “This is not Agreste's style. Can you imagine Adrien wearing any of those? What were you thinking? I'm so disappointed…" he sighed.

Marinette gulped and her body was trembling, afraid of the cold man in front of her. She should have imagined her drawings would turn out to be not of Gabriel's likings. It was obvious they didn't fit with Agreste's style, with elegance and high-class as its trademark. She had been inspired by Luka, and the rock style of her newest drawings screamed his name everywhere. But it was the only thing she could come up with in her state, no matter how hard she tried.

"I'm so sorry… Let me re-do them, please" she begged, seeing the chance she had always dreamed about vanish before her eyes at that instant.

"You have one more day. I have great expectations put on you, Marinette. Show me your true potential- the designs my son was fond of"

"Yes sir. Thank you" she bowed her head, quickly excusing herself to walk through the main gates. She was trembling like a little mouse in front of its predator. She needed to throw out those disgusting feelings of inferiority and devaluing. She needed to recover her steady breath and calm. She needed Luka's presence close to keep her feet on the ground. She needed him to keep her sanity.

But, once again, he didn't come to the cemetery. Another day without him around. Another day with growing anxiety and worry. Another day of painful loneliness… but new designs still needed to be done...

Back at Trocadero, she decided to try to keep her head occupied with her drawings. She tried remembering her dates with Adrien- or what she used to base her designs on before.

She remembered walking hand in hand with him, sharing André's ice-cream, sharing one spoon, and being scolded by a baby's mother when she tried to give her baby a candy from the candy stall. She also remembered bumping with the flyer man- Mr Banana- when she had been rushed by Adrien, all his papers flying and scattered on the ground. She still felt a little bad for not helping him recover his flyers (especially when Adrien stepped on some of them). She also remembered riding the merry-go-round with her ‘Prince’ and she, his ‘Princess’. She remembered picnics with their best friends, too. Even the selfish, prideful and arrogant Chloe, Adrien's childhood friend, had finally accepted her as Adrien's girlfriend in front of the Eiffel tower. She wondered where her past friends were now.

The memories she had now were bittersweet- happy but also sad. How much truth and how much fantasy was in her memories? Adrien's perfection had been an illusion of hers. And their mutual friends 'friendship' appeared to be so too, when they hadn't called her in months. At least Chloe still greeted her when they met in the street, and she still brought Adrien flowers once a week. 'What was Gabriel looking for in her designs?' she had asked herself. Her answer was clear- 'the illusion of a perfect life'.

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Gabriel's eyes studied her newest designs the day after. Elegance, class, innovation- Gabriel's lips displayed a faint proud smile under his serious facade and Marinette could finally breathe.

"Marinette. You really are talented. You outdid yourself here" he said, closing her sketchbook to look at her. "I'm going to ask Nathalie to make your designs part of the new collection. With only a few arrangements they'll be perfect. Good job"

"Thank you, Sir", she bowed.

"As promised, I want you to be the new designer of the company. Take it as training. I expect you to become the pillar of this company in a few years". His chin raised to look at her from an upper position. Marinette’s eyes couldn’t possibly open more as she gasped.

"Wha-! With all my respect, I- I don't think I deserve that, Sir" her head sank between her shoulders.

"Nonsense. You're the only one who cared about my son. You're all I have left from him now, my daughter-in-law. You're the only one I can trust" he reassured her with a hand on her shoulders, under his melancholic facial expression. "I count on you"

"Yes, Sir" her mouth automatically responded. Gabriel hugged her in a grateful manner, before stating the work conditions: a full sketchbook of new designs per week. No fixed schedule, just a deadline every Friday. Marinette agreed with the conditions, still doubting her capabilities.

When she stepped out of the mansion, she wanted to scream, to cry, to jump… but most of all she wanted to meet Luka. Three days without him and she already felt like she was losing her mind. She hoped to finally meet him and hug him and tell him how much she had missed him- but nothing: no new flowers on his sisters tombstones apart from hers.

Disappointed and worried, she moved to Trocadero again. Her message to Luka was still unanswered and marked as unread. She contemplated the idea of calling him, but she supposed she would be a nuisance if he was at work- or maybe he was unreachable when he had yet to read her message. She had no claim on him, anyway. There was nothing else she could do. Before she could notice, tears were falling from her eyes.

She must have been showing a very depressing aura, because soon, André Glacier approached to offer her an ice-cream. The candy stall lady offered her a strawberry flavored lollipop and even Mr Banana offered her a paper crafted flower made out of his flyers.

For the first time, Marinette realized she was also part of the landscape she loved the most in Paris, and she was moved by their welcoming affection. The merry-go-round old man also offered her a blanket to rest on the grass. She was exhausted from the swirl of emotions she had been going on these past days and she soon fell asleep. She could have sworn she could hear Luka's guitar nearby- the song he always played- but her eyelids were too heavy to open. 'Luka…' she cried, and she entered dreamland with the feeling of someone's hand softly caressing her hair. Through her almost closed eyes, she could almost swear she saw nails painted in black, but she convinced herself she must have just dreamed it.

That night, she armed herself with courage and sent Luka another message. 'Let's meet tomorrow. I'll wait for you'.

Before going to sleep, she wished to the stars to meet him again… but they must have been angry at her because no one expected a strong windstorm for the next day. Marinette's parents forbade her to go outside in that weather, but she escaped through the back door and fought the winds to go to the cemetery.

'Why am I even here?' she thought, looking at the still unread message. 'There's no way he comes in this weather… I’m such a fool...' Marinette sighed. She could see some tree branches falling down; and cardboards, metallic plates and other pieces of various materials being carried by the windstorm. She sought refuge behind the Couffaine's family mausoleum, wishing for their forgiveness as the clock hit Luka's usual curfew.

He didn't come. Again.

Defeated, she reached for her phone: no new messages. 'What was the point of being there when he was obviously not going to come?' She felt stupid. And maybe she was. She probably was. Stupidly in love, she realized. Was she even allowed to love someone she had hurt so much? Did she even deserve his attention? Or his help? Will he ever come back to her? Was he even real?

She was losing her mind.

The strong howling winds were covering her loud painful shriek. Her hoarse throat felt ready to tear anytime as her crying amplified. When was the last time she cried like that? Right. After her first visit to Adrien's grave- months ago, when she first met with Luka.

"Luka… I miss you… I want to see you… please… I need to know you haven't left me behind too… please… don't leave me alone… Please… I need to know you're safe… I need you..." she cried in exhaustion, her body curled, sinking her head between her knees. With one last check on her phone, she lost all her hope: no new messages, despite the message marked now as read.

He willingly ignored her, she supposed, devastated. He didn't want to meet with her, didn't he? She was abusing his kindness when his suffering was worse than hers. And his sisters… Of course he would secretly hate her… Maybe living had no point anymore, she thought, utterly defeated by the depression she had been fighting since she woke up in that hospital room. Maybe it was her destiny, or a curse. Once again, she was surrounded by her inner darkness.

‘Maybe it’s time to give up…'

"Marinette!" She could hear someone calling. Probably her imagination, she assumed. "Marinette!" The same voice repeated- Luka's voice. She thought she was at the border of losing her sanity when he called again "Marinette!", but this time he appeared in front of her, sweating, with his hair messy from the wind.

If it weren't for how he ran to hug her immediately, she would have convinced herself he was a product of her imagination. But the touch was real. He was real. And he was there with her. "Luka…!" She cried, clinging to his clothes.

"What are you doing here in this windstorm? Haven't you seen the news? It's dangerous! You could have injured yourself" he scolded her, panicking and worrying. "What would I do if anything happened to you…?" he whispered, so low she wouldn't have heard him if his mouth weren't almost touching her ear.

"Luka... Luka! I was- so scared! And worried! I- I've missed you so much!" She screamed between whimpers, as her arms grip tightened around him.

"I'm here Marinette, it's ok. Sorry for being late" he apologized, hugging her tightly. "I'm so sorry"

"Luka, I-" before she could continue, two voices joined the wind sounds.

"Marinette?" "Marinette!"

"My parents," she gasped, recognizing their voices.

With his usual gentleness, Luka offered her his hand and helped her stand up, but she refused to let go of him.

"Go with them. They must be worried" Luka said in his usual calmed voice.

"But-"

"I'll be here as usual as soon as the weather allows me to. Rest assured". His hands on her shoulders were more reassuring than the unreadable look on his face, but he sounded sincere to Marinette and she decided to trust him.

"But- what happened? Why didn't you answer my messages? She cried. "You promised you wouldn’t willingly disappear and yet… I was so worried something bad could have happened to you..."

"I'm sorry, Marinette… Something happened, it’s true, but-” he looked away and took a deep breath before looking at the directions Marinette’s parents' voices came from. “I'll tell you next time. You better go now. Your parents sound very worried"

"Will you really come again?" Marinette asked, squeezing his hand, scared of him disappearing again.

"I promise. I won’t fail you again” He nodded. “Now go."

Marinette was hesitant, but she finally let go of his hand and started walking towards her parents' voices, encouraged by Luka's hurt smile and his slight push on her back.

"Mom! Dad!" She cried, running to hug them.

"Marinette! We were so worried! Why did you escape? It's dangerous! What if anything happened to you, all alone here…" her mother hugged her.

"No, mom. I wasn't alone… I was with-" she turned to signal Luka, but he was nowhere to be found. 'Did she imagine it?' she frowned her eyebrows in disappointment.

"Let's go home" her father said, with his arm behind her back.

Sad and confused, Marinette looked back once again, wondering if her meeting with Luka had just been a product of her imagination. But when she looked back again, he was indeed there, watching them from afar.

In relief, Marinette waved back at him, but he walked away- not before Marinette's mother caught a glimpse of him.

"See, mom? Luka was with me!" She signaled, noticing how she had seen him too. Sabine’s reaction was not what Marinette expected. She had a look Marinette’ had never seen before on her mother’s face: a mix of anger, sadness and fear. Her words only amplified the bad vibrations she was giving off.

"Marinette. You should stay away from that man" she coldly warned her daughter.

Marinette was confused. "Why?"

"Just stay away from him, please"

Why? Why did she have to stay away from Luka? Why would her mother dislike him? Did she know him? Why did it feel like everyone was keeping secrets from her?

Marinette didn't plan to listen to her mother. No matter how massive was the concern and fear her face reflected.