#his hair got curlier the more i drew him

[slutouttanowhere]

pairing: Roman Reigns x Sabrina Richards

word count: 5k

a/n: not much to say here, Naomi, and Sabrina’s entrance song: My House by Beyonce, hope y’all enjoy, reblogs are much appreciated. Follow me for more ❤️

⏪ Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Adam Pearce is dead set on overworking me tonight, not only did I have an appearance with Seth, and Cody tonight, I’m booked for a tag match for the titles with Naomi. “Anyway like I was saying, the neon looks bomb on you girl.” Naomi beamed at me, when my pouty expression didn't change she started dancing, and playfully backed her booty up on me. “Don't leave me hanging now.” She said mid twerk, Naomi was determined to get a laugh out of me, and there’s no way you could deny her. 

“Fine.” I giggled, my hips began to sway to the music in my head, but then I slightly bent at the wait poking my booty out. Of course Naomi cheered me on, which drew the attention of others, and the next thing I knew Carmella, and Liv had danced their way over to our side of the hallway. Liv had pulled out her phone, and set it up on one of the unused crates. 

“Dance break!” Carmella shouted, soon my stress from earlier was forgotten for the moment. 

“She got that whoa there, hangman got that whoa there, don't act like you dont know.” I sang Beyonce’s lyrics, and Naomi posed in her best cowboy pose, which led to us all trying to follow suit, the four of us bursted out into laughter. The chatter had started up again, and I was in the middle of filming a tiktok with Naomi when Roman rolled by, this time only Solo by his side. Which was suspicious, but I decided to ignore it. 

“So…this is what you do with your free time, making tiktoks.” Roman’s judgmental tone came from behind me, I could see in the reflection of my camera his eyes were watching me. Looking me up and down like a starved wolf. My lips pressed together, I could feel my blood pressure rising from the way he’s nearly breathing down my neck, and when I looked over to Naomi she was standing with her arms folded. A small smirk on her lips, I may or may not have told her about the pending crush I had on The Tribal Chief, of course she was more than happy I was moving on from a past shitty relationship. I continued doing my dance as if he wasn't standing there, a bold move on my part, but I didn't even know what to say to him, or how to say it. The only time I had interactions with Roman was in direct relation to Cody and Seth, neither of them were here now. 

“Don't act like you dont hear me talking to you girl.” Roman raised his voice, then grabbed my arm, and turned me to him. I whipped around, and met him with a glare. I tried to pull my arm away, but he wouldn't let me go, he was taken aback by me putting up a fight. That only seems to excite him, the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a playful grin. 

“Oh pardon me my Tribal Chief, I’m just confused as to why the hell you’re bothering me?” I questioned him, my tone stale, and a forced smile on my lips.  I wasn't in a pleasant mood tonight, and I had a long list of reasons as to why, Roman being the top of that list. I could hear the girls quietly instigating behind us, and for a second his eyes flickered over my head to the peanut gallery behind us, and back to me. 

“So moody today? Is it because you're tired of dealing with those losers, I already told you how to solve that.” He teased, he laughed smugly, he leaned in closer to me. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach fluttering vigorously, the scent of his expensive cologne invading my senses made it hard for me to think.

“What I’m tired of is you acting like you’re not scared.” I looked him up and down, I noticed his hair was not tied back in his trademark tight bun, but instead, fell down around his shoulders framing his face. His hair was curlier then how he usually kept it, I preferred it that way, but I knew he liked to keep it out of his face when he’s in the ring. 

He scoffed, “Scared? Of those clowns? The failure, and his dancing jester?” 

“Roman, everybody knows what you’re scared of babe…irrelevance. And all of it is in that undisputed title, when it’s gone, who are you then? Just, Roman Reigns.” I thought I was being funny, but it seems I bit back at him more than I intended. My logic turned off, and my mouth started running without thought; his tongue slowly glided across his lips, and his eyes looked up to the ceiling. He mumbled something inaudible to himself before his gaze found mine again, he scowled at me

“How many times have I told you to address me as ‘My Tribal Chief,’ Sabrina?” His voice now deep, and gruff. He sighed heavily, shaking his head, his grip on me loosened temporarily, and that’s when I remembered he was still holding on to me. Our proximity caused the butterflies in the pit of my stomach to swirl violently, and send a shiver down my spine. I had pressed his ego in front of other people, and now I would pay for it. “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson for being a bad girl.” My heart pounded in my ears, nervous as to what the hell he meant by that, surely he wouldn’t put his hands on me in a violent way? 

“Naomi, Sabrina, you guys have ten minutes to head to gorilla.” An official had walked up to our group, their eyes lingered on Roman’s grip on me, reluctantly let me go. Naomi then pulled me by the shoulder, and dragged me off in the opposite direction. I looked over my shoulder, sure enough his eyes were watching me. I whipped back around, and tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. 

“Girl…” Naomi trailed off, we stood behind the curtain, Hunter sat behind the monitors watching the show. He gave us a wave, but barely took his eyes off the small screens. 

“I know.” I sighed, she knew better than anyone the burden I shouldered with this drama, but she also knew how stubborn I can be when it comes to getting what I want, and executing the plan on my terms.

“Let’s not think about that right now, instead, lets focus on whooping Sonya, and Shayna’s ass’. After they jumped us last week, they gone feel this glow. Ya feel me?” Naomi and I slapped hands hitting our hand shake, then bumped hips, I couldn't help the giggle that came from me. 

“I’m so glad you're my partner.” I pulled her into a hug wrapping my arms around her waist, her long toned arms going around the back of my neck, when we heard DIY’s music hit signaling their win we knew we would be up soon. 

“You know I got your back B.” She hugged me tighter, then we ran through our warm ups, and some stretches while we waited. Hunter notified us that after the commercial break we were out first, soon they hit our music, and out we went. The lights in the arena went out, and the stadium nearly exploded from the roar of the fans, my skin prickled with goose bumps from the loud pop we received for us tonight. It felt so good to know my home town still showed up for me when we came around. 

“WHO THEY CAME TO SEE? ME. WHO REP IT LIKE ME DON'T MAKE ME GET UP OUT MY SEAT. UH OHHH” Our music blasted through the arena, Naomi and I danced down to the ring, our glow in the dark, neon gear the brightest thing in the arena besides the titan tron behind us. This was the best part of my night, having fun with Naomi, she's such a breath of fresh air. “No sauce or nothing.” Naomi mumbled to me shaking her head as we watched  Shayna and Soyna walk down to the ring, they  didn't really do fancy entrances. They’d rather get straight to the fight, that’s fine by me, the faster I can beat their ass the faster I can get back to Cody and Seth. Shayna and I started things off, immediately she tried to get me into a sleeper hold. I was quick to power out of it bucking my hips back into her pelvis, I could hear her grunting, but she held on to me. It was becoming difficult for me to breathe, I knew I couldn't give up just yet, a contender's spot was on the line. Naomi amped up the crowd stomping her foot on the apron, “GLOW, GLOW, GLOW!” She shouted, I bucked my hips back into her a second time, and then a third time till Shayna stumbled backward. She landed on her butt roughly, I could hear the crowd cringe, but I didn't let that distract me. She struggled to her feet, but I kicked at her shoulder, then switched back and forth giving her a barrage of kicks to both shoulders. She stumbled on her feet, quickly I hopped up to the top turnbuckle, Naomi slapped my thigh thus tagging herself in, and I ended my move with a missile dropkick to Shayna’s chest. 

Naomi flawlessly hops up onto the top turnbuckle, and into a splash frog, into a pin. Shayna was slow to kick out, nevertheless, Naomi moved to the next thing, and brought Shayna up to her feet. Before Naomi had the chance to do anything, Shayna popped up, and clocked Naomi right across the face. “C’mon Naomi wake it up girl!” I shouted and clapped my hands at her, she didn't have much time to recover, Shayna took Naomi’s confusion as an opening to lock her in the sleeper hold. This time she didn't make the same mistake she made with me, Shayna then wrapped her legs around Naomi’s waist so she wouldn't be able to shake her off like I did. She was trying to fight it off, but she was fading. I was stomping the apron so damn hard one would think I might break it off the bone, but in all my efforts it was working. “Fuck it.” Led by passion to get my hands on those titles, I couldn't let us go out like this, the referee was too slow to stop me. I got in between the ropes, and popped Shayna on the back of the neck with an enziguri kick. She immediately dropped to the ground with Naomi, as I was trying to untangle them, Sonya had shoved me, without hesitation she climbed on top of me. Her fists attacked me, while she was doing that, she didn't see how I reached out, and slapped Naomi’s hand.

Naomi finally stumbled up, and dragged Shayna’s body out the ring. While Sonya was busy flexing to the crowd, I ran up to her, hooked my arm around the back of her neck then planted her face first into the mat landing a bulldog. The crowd was in a frenzy, cheering, and shouting for Naomi and I. While she’s laying there trying to recover, I climbed to the top rope, I steadied my feet before flipping off the top turnbuckle into my finisher StarGazer. I landed right on top of Sonya. I went for the cover, and she kicked out. I didn't bother waiting for her to recover. I stood up, then stomped both my feet into her gut off the top turnbuckle, then I grabbed her by her legs, and flipped her over locking in the Sharpshooter. Shayna had tried to get in to break my hold, but Naomi’s long legs kicked her on the side her head, thus knocking Shayna out. Sonya screamed, scratched, and clawed. Anything to get out of my grasp, little did she know I hadn't even sat all my weight down on her, until I could feel her dragging me towards the ropes. I dragged her back to the center, and sat all the way down on her lower spine applying more pressure. 

She wasn't able to take the pain to her back any longer, and ultimately ended up tapping out. The bell rang, Naomi climbed back into the ring, and they hit our music. We wrapped our arms around each other, hugging each other tightly, and excitedly jumping up, and down. After our celebratory dance, we made our way up the ramp, and to the back. “Damn we were on fire tonight!” Naomi beamed, we slapped hands, and bumped hips. I was really proud of how far we’ve been making it since teaming up together, the future's looking bright for us. We walked back to the locker room with our arms linked chatting about what we were gonna be doing tonight after the show. After a quick shower, I had the makeup team apply my makeup this time. Tonight for Miz TV, Seth wanted to wear black, and red. To what his outfit was going to be I wasn't sure, but he said his shoes were going to be a surprise. Cody wasn’t into fashion much, he usually left the flashiness up to Seth and I. My appearance with the boys was revealed to me the day before, so unfortunately I had zero red items in  my suitcase. After an impromptu trip to the mall, I was able to throw something together that would appease Seth, but also match his color scheme of the night.

“Alright Sabrina, all done.” Laure, my makeup artist, held a mirror up to my face. It was perfect as I expected, and just as swift. I gave her a quick hug, thanked her for her life saving work, and went about my business. While I was on my way to find Seth and Cody I bumped into them. “Oh hey, I was just about to come and find you guys.” Cody, who’s deadpan facial expression let me know all I needed to know about how he felt about his outfit. He was dressed nicely in his usual three piece suit, when my eyes landed on his dark red tie, and a dark red vest to watch. Then I looked at Seth who was of course grinning from ear to ear; it appeared he was wearing all black, “look down Sabrina, check out my awesome dancing shoes, ha haaa.” He laughed, he took a step back for me to see his whole outfit: red sunglasses, black puffer jacket, and black puffer pants to match with a black fishnet top. My eyes continued to travel down to see these big, bright, red boots. I was shocked, though I wasn't sure whether I liked them or not. I shrugged feeling impartial, “all I know is, you’re probably the only person that could pull them off the way that you are.” 

“Yeahhh, we look like money, baby.” Seth cackled, then he turned to Cody, and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Lighten up man, have some fun for once.” Seth tried to coax a smile out of Cody, but we all knew how stubborn he could be. That didn’t stop Seth from trying, but when they played our music grinned mischievously. “Ohhh that’s our cue.” Seth pushed me ahead of them so that I would step out first, the crowd roared to life, and as if it couldn’t get any louder, when Cody and Seth came out after me the noise level was deafening. This seemed to have brought a small smile to Cody’s lips, I bumped my shoulder into his, and we linked our arms together. Miz was already waiting in the ring, his show all set up with three chairs for us, and mics waiting. Seth held the ropes open for me, and I was thankful that I wore sneakers tonight. 

The crowd was buzzing with energy, I couldn’t help but stand in the middle of the ring to soak it all in. A sensation of excitement coursed through me, they started to sing Seth’s song, which brought Seth out of his seat. “You sound beautiful Cali, absolutely gorgeous!” I shouted, though I could barely hear myself over them, my skin prickled with goosebumps underneath my fur jacket.

Cody brought the mic to his lips, his eyes swept across the arena, and landed on Miz. Who sat patiently letting us have our moment, he to wore a smirk on his lips; he’s been the one stirring the pot between us and The Bloodline this whole time. Anything for views. 

“So…Miz, Cali, what do ya wanna talk about?” He asked, the corners of his lips curling into a small grin, Seth finally took his seat on the other side of me. His large red boots in my peripheral vision, despite them being an eyesore, I happened to catch something else. In the crowd, back in the third row behind commentary there was a person just sitting there with a hood on. I couldn’t really see their face from the way they angled their head downwards, a chilling sensation went through me. 

I tried to ignore it, and I thought I was doing a good job at it till Seth elbowed me. “C’mon boss, look alive! We are in your home state San Diego, California after all!” He shouted, drawing the attention away from my stoic moment, but I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. 

“Uh, sorry, I was distracted by Seth’s bright ass boots.” I joked, Miz looked at me a bit worried at first, but like a professional he carried on as well. 

“How do you guys expect to defeat the Bloodline? The tag titles are on Jimmy and Jey Uso right now. While Seth and Cody are amazing competitors individually, things are a bit shaky as a tag team.” Miz spoke honestly, all eyes turned to me, and I honestly wasn’t sure how to answer that. 

“The Usos have been tag teaming together since the very beginning, they know no other way. On top of the fact that they’ve been tag champions for quite a while, and that is the exact reason they are going to lose those titles. See if it’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting into the mind of my opponents, I mean I do have a Psychology degree after all.” I chuckled letting the crowd reply, but then I continued. “Jimmy and Jey have gotten way too comfortable where they are, complacent, and lazy. They think they’ve got it all in the bag, but come this weekend at Hell In A Cell, Cody and Seth are going stomp the fuck out of them.” I could hear Seth cackling behind me, the crowd began to sing Seth’s song. 

“And what happens if you’re unsuccessful?” He asked, he leaned in with a quizzical expression, a slight smirk on his lips as if he stumped me. 

I took a breath, tossing my hair over my shoulder, staring straight ahead at the audience, I said, “how’s that old saying go? There’s always a plan B.” There was a mixed reaction from the crowd, and I knew I had them eating out the palm of my hand then.

Miz was going to ask another question, but he was cut off by Roman’s music. I froze, my smile gone, and my heart pounding in my ears. It’s never a good thing when Roman shows up, with only Paul Heyman at his side, he holds onto Roman’s undisputed title tightly. The Ula Fala draped around his neck seemed to have caught the lights of the arena making it shine gloriously. His lips were moving, but we had no idea what he was saying. Cody stood from his chair, instantly on guard, he grabbed onto my wrist. 

“Roman, Roman, Roman….I just knew you couldn’t help but show your ugly face.” I said dryly, he always shows up at the worst moments, and I hated that for me. He slowly approached the ring, then hopped on the side of the apron where I stood. I took a step back accidentally bumping into Cody, I didn’t take my eyes off The Tribal Chief, nor did he take his eyes off me as he stepped into the ring. 

He held his hand out to Paul, without hesitation Paul placed a microphone in Roman’s waiting hand. “So now you’re a liar, because I know for a fact you don’t think my face is ugly baby girl.” He smiled smugly, his chocolate brown eyes looking me up and down, as observing me from head to toe. He lingered on my sneakers, then looked at Seth's boots, and then back to me. A humorous expression on his face, “with the exception of Sabrina, y’all look like some clowns.” The crowd didn’t like his insult at all, which only caused Roman to laugh harder. He casually leaned against the ropes, soaking up the hate, and loving every second of it. 

“What do you want Roman, you’re wasting our time.” I rolled my eyes trying to move things along, placed my hand on my hip, and switched my weight from one foot to the other. 

“I’m the WWE Undisputed Champion, your time is my time. Matter of fact, shit don’t shake around here unless I want it to. This is all mine, and I can do with it as I please.” He spread his arms out wide, he took his time making his point crystal clear.  “This ring? It’s mine, the cute little chairs y’all were just sitting in, it’s mine. Y’all in this sold out arena in San Diego because of me!” He didn’t stop there, Roman only knew how to take things too far. “This WWE universe, down to the bullshit they tweet online, is only ever relevant because my name is attached to it.” He turned towards the crowd, his eyes wide, and his fist beating his chest. “So…instead of bitching, you should be thanking me, it’s because of me, that you are the star that you became. All three of y’all.” He took a step closer to me, but Cody  stepped between us. 

“Cut the shit Roman.” Seth snapped at him, “I’m the one that put you in the Shield, I’m the one that set you on this Tribal Chief path in the first place!” He shouted from behind me, Roman’s eyes widened, enraged that Seth implied such a thing. 

“You didn't do a goddamn thing for me, but lie, you backstabbing bitch!” Roman growled out, hurt still evident in his voice, that was years ago at this point, but nothing felt worse than your family hurting you.

I threw the mic down at the chair, and put my hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Guys, let's not tonight okay?” I pleaded with them, they should be reserving their energy instead of fighting right now. Roman got under Cody’s skin with ease, no matter what came out of Romans mouth it got a reaction. 

“You keep holding on to the past, you're going to lose your future.” Cody closed the gap between them, he pointed to the golden title Paul Heymen held onto with dear life, and the crowd was so loud I could barely hear Roman’s words. Something along the lines of, “you keep running your mouth, you might lose a couple teeth.” 

“Cody–” I was cut off by Seth bumping into me, which caused me to bump into Cody, and he bumped Roman. That was all the excuse Roman needed to push Cody back and punch him square in the jaw. 

“Shit.” I cursed, the sound of shouting, and grunting came from behind me. Jimmy and Jey were both beating Seth outside the ring. I went to climb out the ring, but two large hands grabbed me by the arms, and spun me around. 

Romans hands grasped my shoulders, his eyes dark, and shining with malice. “I told you! I told you there would be consequences, look at what you caused, look at what you made me do!” A chill ran down my spine, I tried to pull away from him, but his grip only tightened. He brought me closer, then spun me in his arms so that I could watch as Jimmy and Jey rolled Seth back into the ring. The hooded man I saw earlier hopped the barricade, then revealed himself. Solo Sikoa, I should have known. 

He stalked over to Cody in the corner who was very much out of it, “don’t do this.” I mumbled, I was in disbelief that this was happening, I knew Solo was out there, but I let myself get distracted as usual. There was so much chaos going on all at once, I didn't know where to look next, Cody, and Solo were closest to me. He stomped at Cody’s hands, and any body part he could get to.

“Don’t look away, watch them, watch the destruction; this is what needed to happen. You need to see that these two bozos are not worth it, Seth was never worth it.” He whispered in my ear for only me to hear, I didn’t take my eyes off Solo when he set Cody up in the corner, ripped his suit open, and chopped him across his chest until Cody fell back down to the mat. It didn’t stop there, “and when you finish that one, this one is next!” Roman shouted, his arms tightened around my waist, and stomach. His hands felt hot on my skin, his nails dug into my flesh reminding me of how he was in control of this situation. 

Solo set Cody up again, this time he held his thumb up high, and brought it down onto Cody’s throat with a powerful torque behind it. He slid down in the corner, groaning in pain, Solo wasted no time turning to Seth, and as much squirmed around he just couldn’t get free. Solo’s thumb went up, and when it came down, I wholeheartedly believed that one was personal. Roman held onto my wrist with an iron grip as he pulled me out of the ring, “stop fighting me!” He growled out. I rolled underneath the bottom rope, Jimmy, Jey, and Solo following suit. Paul Heyman was already close by Romans side, a sickening smirk on his lips. 

“Step ya game up fuck boy!” Roman laughed into a mic, Seth wobbled to his feet, a look of confusion and hurt in his eyes as he watched Roman retreat with me. He tugged me along up the ramp, and into the back. No one said anything, he had that much pull. I passed Naomi on the way back, she gave an apologetic look, but I remained quiet. I felt like we had been walking forever till we reached a door with a sign that read,‘Tribal Chief Roman Reigns,’ indicating their private locker room. It was a nice set up, better than Seth and Cody’s I knew that much. A dark brown conference table centered the room, a nice layout of fruits, vegetables, cheese, meat, and crackers on a table off to the side near a mini fridge. A tan colored sofa on the other side near large ceiling to floor windows overlooking San Diego. I walked over to the windows, it was a long night, and all I wanted more than anything was to sleep. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing, scrolling through my notifications I saw they were mostly Seth and Cody blowing my line up. Then an endless stream of tweets about what everyone just witnessed, I bit my lip trying to stifle the giggle that pressed against my lips. I exhaled, then tucked my phone back in my jeans. 

“Alright Uce, we got a match in a little bit.” Jey informed Roman, I always found their dynamic interesting. If Roman had a favorite twin, I put all my money on it being Jey. I’m not totally surprised, Jey is a sweetheart, and more reserved, the complete opposite of Jimmy, who’s always trying to get a laugh out of their cousin.

“Go…take Solo with you, knowing those clowns they’ll be tripping over each other to get back at us for what just happened.” He sighed, Jinny tried to slap hands with Roman, but was met with an annoyed expression. 

Jimmy slapped his own hand, smiling sheepishly, “yeet.” Solo stared at his brothers, a disappointed stare in his eyes, wordlessly he exited first, Jey clapped Jimmy on the shoulder then followed behind their baby brother. “Damn, y’all wait for me!” Jinny called after his brothers. 

I shook my head, My gaze landed on Paul who was watching me with curious eyes. I lifted an eyebrow at him, but neither of us said anything. 

“Ah, my Tribal Chief.” Paul called to Roman as if he just remembered something.

“Yes?” Roman turned to the wiseman, a small smile on his lips, and his shoulders more relaxed in comparison to earlier. 

“I have a few business calls to make, may I be excused?” He asked ever so politely, I had to repress the urge from rolling my eyes. As sensitive as Paul is, the incoming revelation will shock him the most I’m sure of it. 

“Of course, take your time, actually if I need you I’ll give you a call.” He patted Paul on the shoulder with his free hand, Paul turned and gave me one last look, his stare lingering longer than it should have. Roman stepped into his line of sight blocking his view of me. 

Paul bowed respectfully, “My Tribal Chief.” Then he left, leaving just Roman and I. He slowly turned to me, our grins grew simultaneously, I skipped over to him, and threw my arms around his neck. 

“When I met you all those years ago…I never thought you were an evil genius.” Roman chuckled, then kissed me on the nose causing me to let out a giggle, then pressed my lips to his. 

“All pretty girls are secretly evil.” I laughed, I took him by the hand, and led him over to the sofa. He brought me into his lap, “and then when we finally reveal it all to them, Cody and Seth will crumble.” My hands caressed Romans face, I loved how his eyes softened when he looked at me, and now that we finally had alone time I could stare at him as long as I wanted uninterrupted. 

“Seth is an idiot.” He mumbled between kisses, his face buried in my cleavage, he inhaled my scent, then let out a growl. His hand slid up my thigh to my waist trying to feel any exposed skin he could. All that pent up energy from not being able to touch each other for so long was starting to unravel. 

“Mmm we should save it for later, we’ve got a whole weekend after all.” I moaned out, Roman swept my hair behind my shoulder, then trailing sloppy kisses up my neck to my cheek. His large hand gripping my breast nearly ripping the flimsily lace top. 

“Ugh, you’re right.” He looked down at his watch, the show was pretty much over at this point, and Jimmy, Jey, and Solo were traveling together. I grabbed him by his beard, kissed him softly one last time before getting up, and crossed the room to nibble on the plate of food Roman had. A knock came from the opposite of the door ruining my current mood, nevertheless, Roman opened the door to reveal Paul Heyman on the other side. 

“Everything is set to go for your time off, is there anything else you need from me my chief?” Paul asked. 

“Nah, I’ve got it all handled from here wiseman, let’s get goin, the sooner we’re on the jet the better.” Roman reassured him, then Roman grabbed me by the arm, and pushed me ahead of him. 

Paul gave us a perplexed look, “um, my Tribal Chief…she’s coming with us?” 

“Are you questioning my methods?” Roman paused, turning to the wiseman, his tone gave no room for argument, and Paul was keen on that. 

“Oh absolutely not.” He responded without hesitation, his eyes darted to me, but my eyes were on Roman. If the direction of things were changing, I would wait for his signal; I suggested he let Paul in on the plan Roman wanted this as close to the chest as possible. 

“Good.” Roman pushed me gently forward, ��walk.” He ordered me, I did as told, turning with my head down to hide the smirk forming on my lips. 

After we finally made it onto the Jet, Roman took a seat directly across from me, and Paul took a seat towards the back. I placed my hands on the table, he reached for me, his fingers caressing my skin. Letting my head fall back, and closing my eyes, I finally relaxed enough to fall asleep. The days to follow are gonna be nothing but sunny skies and beaches. 

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 13: Dance of Darkness

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: It's the first time either of them has seen Grace since she left Small Heath two years ago.

Word Count: 4,448

Notes: Warnings for depictions of infidelity, smut including a threesome, and references to infertility.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 11: Happy or Sad

With Ada staying at Polly’s until they got the whole situation with Campbell sorted, that meant that her house was available to be used. Staring at herself in the mirror in one of the upstairs bedrooms, Lucy raised a trembling hand to her lips, wiping a small smudge of bright red lipstick, running a hand through her hair. Downstairs, she could just distantly hear the hum of Tommy and James talking, as Tommy explained that he and Lucy needed the house to themselves that evening. 

She’d picked out a bright red dress with a long skirt and intricate black beading, and had swapped out her usually simplistic and less flashy jewelry for a few of the more expensive, lavish pieces she owned. Most of which had been gifts that Tommy had gotten her throughout the years. Fussing over her hair one last time, she sighed, and began to climb down the stairs, careful in the heels she was wearing so that she didn’t fall. She heard the door open and close, as James finally left for the night.

When Tommy saw her, his eyes lit up, crossing the room to her in several quick, long strides, hands landing on her waist as he kissed her.

“You look beautiful.”

She blushed under the praise. “Thanks.”

He’d prepared the sitting room while she was upstairs, turning on a few of the lights and getting a fire started, the dim glow leaving the room feeling seductive and romantic. He had shed his coat, leaving him in only his waistcoat, slacks, and white button down shirt, making it easier for her to feel the muscles in his biceps flex as she ran a hand along his arm. 

“What if she doesn’t show up?” she asked, nerves spiking again. Tommy looked her up and down, clearly appreciative.

“I’m sure we can think of something to do.”

She laughed, leaning more solidly against his chest. He rubbed her back.

“Nervous?” 

“A little.”

“It’s just Grace, love,” he reminded. She nodded.

There was a knock at the door. They both drew in deep breaths.

“I’ll get it,” he said. Lucy nodded, but then followed him anyway.

Grace looked more or less the same; more done up, in a beautiful, elegant dress and carefully done makeup, her golden hair shorter and curlier where it fell to around her chin. Her smile was wobbly, bordering on unsure.

“Hello, Tommy.”

“Hello, Grace,” Tommy stepped aside for her to come in, taking her coat for her and hanging it up. 

“Grace,” Lucy stepped forward.

“Oh, Lucy,” she reached out to her, pulling her in a warm, firm hug. The smell of her perfume was the same that it had been years ago. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too,” she pulled back to look Grace over. “I love your dress.”

Grace flushed, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

“This way,” Tommy gestured, leading them back to the sitting room, closing the door behind them. Grace looked around as Tommy offered her a seat, gesturing to the orange couch and armchairs, settling himself down in one. Grace sat down in the armchair across from him, and Lucy took the couch. Tommy fumbled with his cigarettes.

“Do I not get a drink?” Grace asked. Tommy gestured with a cigarette to the alcohol shelf.

“Please,” he handed Lucy another cigarette, probably knowing that she needed one. Grace stood, fumbling with her little handbag.

“You want one?” she asked, looking between them.

“Yes,” Tommy said.

“Sure,” Lucy nodded.

“Still whiskey?”

“Yes,” Tommy answered for both of them. Grace started to pour, mentioning briefly that she’d seen his name on vans at the docks. Tommy kept his eyes lowered, like he was afraid to look at her. Lucy, for her part, couldn’t stop staring at her. As if she did, Grace would disappear. Grace passed them both their drinks. Lucy eyed the massive, obvious glittering wedding bands encircling her left ring finger. Instead of returning to the armchair, Grace came to sit on the couch next to Lucy.

“Tommy, I really wasn’t sure about coming tonight–” Grace began.

“I lit a fire in the bedroom upstairs,” Tommy interrupted. “My plan was that we’d sit here for a while, talk about old times, drink some whiskey. Then I was gonna tell you, I hadn’t spent a day without thinking about you. And then we were gonna go upstairs, the three of us, and sleep together.”

Lucy shifted closer to Grace, until their shoulders were nearly touching.

“But just now on the way to opening the door…I changed my mind.”

Lucy’s eyes snapped up to his, unable to fully tell if he was joking or not.

“So just have one drink, tell me how happy you are in New York and then you can go,” he said. Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. Interesting seduction strategy. She would have interfered if she wasn’t so curious to see if it actually worked. 

“You changed your mind?” Grace asked, voice trembling, angry.

“Mm. So you can go.”

“Well…” Grace looked up and away. “As a matter of fact, I am happy in New York. And I am married.”

Lucy looked back down at the rings on Grace’s finger, swallowing.

“Oh yeah, he’s rich, I know,” Tommy said, a trickle of bitterness leaking into his voice. 

“And he’s sweet, and he’s kind to me. So what makes you think that I would’ve gone to bed with either of you after one whiskey and some conversation?”

“I was accounting for three whiskeys,” Tommy defended. Lucy snorted, raising a hand to clap over her mouth a moment too late. Grace’s hair whirled as she turned her head to stare at her.

“Sorry,” Lucy mumbled, still trying not to laugh. Grace spun back on Tommy, snapping at him while he maintained his appearance of being unbothered. 

“I came here because you asked me.”

“Even though he’s sweet and he’s kind to you?”

“Tommy,” Lucy groaned, tilting her head back. “Stop being an ass.”

Grace continued to bicker with him, and yet she still did not take him up on his offers to leave. 

“But you’re still here,” Tommy observed. 

“Are you so certain?” Grace asked.

“That you’re still in love with me? With us?” Tommy asked. He sighed. “I was. But I’m not anymore.”

Grace was still looking at him with cooling anger in her eyes. Tommy narrowed his pretty blue orbs, slightly, and asked her if she was armed. 

“No, I’m not armed. I don’t carry guns. I don’t have to.”

Tommy looked like he was trying not to smile and failing at it. “You don’t have a sense of humor anymore either.”

“Ugh, Tommy,” Lucy groaned, resting her fingertips against her forehead, but her smile was uncaged, clear on her face as she watched him have his fun. He shot her a teasing grin before looking back at Grace.

“What are you talking about?” Grace snapped, looking between, seemingly greatly offended. Tommy downed the remainder of his whiskey, and stood. Lucy scooted across the couch, making room for him to sit between her and Grace, curling into his side.

“Thing is, I hate reunions,” he told Grace.

“That’s because you’re shit at them,” Lucy mumbled, pressing her face into his shoulder, yelping when he lightly pinched her hip in retaliation, snickering.

“I didn’t want to sit here for hours talking about nothing and dancing around what we really want to say. So now…I know you’re happy in New York, I know your husband’s rich and sweet and kind to you. I know you’re unarmed. And you didn’t come here for sex, because you don’t love me or Lucy anymore. And it’s only three minutes past,” Tommy explained. “Another drink,” he determined, then poked Lucy. “You want one?”

“God, please,” she said, handing him her empty glass to refill. Grace squirmed in her seat, stammering. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he went to the alcohol shelf, then turned around. “It’s good to see you, Grace.”

“So you didn’t light the fire?” Grace asked, and Lucy pulled her lips in to try to hide her smug smile at the glimmer of disappointment that she sensed in the words. He handed Lucy a refilled glass, then went to fill both his and Grace’s.

“You see, my real plan…was that we go out. I want to impress you,” he leaned forward. “Now…do you like Charlie Chaplin?”

Grace smiled, confused. “Yes, I like Charlie Chaplin.”

“Good,” Tommy smiled. “I bet you’ve never heard Charlie Chaplin speak.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

They walked side by side, her and Grace with their arms linked with each of Tommy’s. Jazz music gently played, as they stepped into a room where several people were gathered.   

“Oh my God, that’s him,” Grace gasped, eyes round as dinner plates as she stared at the man across the room from them. 

“Mhm.”

“That’s really Charlie Chaplin in person.”

“Surprise,” Lucy grinned. In response to Grace’s question as to how he knew Chaplin, Tommy whispered an explanation that he knew Chaplin through his bodyguard, Wag MacDonald, who, like Chaplin, was a Gypsy. A waiter came by holding a tray of glass flutes of champagne, and Tommy scooped up one, handing it to Grace. “Thank you,” then another to Lucy before taking one for himself. “Thank you. See, we all have our secrets, Grace.”

Lucy smirked, wondering if he was going to tell her about the horse they’d gotten that he’d named after her.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” he began to pull them along, introducing Grace with a charming smile. Lucy smiled politely to Wag and Chaplin, having already met them each at a different function. Grace blushed, smiling so wide the dimples appeared in her cheeks as she began to chat with them. Tommy let her go, then gave Lucy a tiny tug on the arm, eyes lit with a wicked type of mirth.

“We’ll be right back,” Lucy whispered into Grace’s ear. She nodded.

Tommy dragged her away to the telephone in the far corner of the room. He dialed, then held it up to his ear, angled just enough so that she could hear. “Hello, Mr. Campbell.”

Lucy clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from cackling. Tommy elbowed her with a grin.

“You said you knew my sister’s address in Primrose Hill. So I expect you have men watching the house to see who comes and goes. Well, tonight your men will see me return to the house with a very beautiful woman. She will stay until just before midnight. Of course, I’ll close the curtains. Can you guess who the woman is?”

Lucy grinned, clinging to his bicep, snickering to herself.

“Liar!” Campbell roared from the other end of the line.

“Sleep well, Mr. Campbell,” Tommy hung up the phone. Lucy nearly doubled over, fighting to keep herself from howling with laughter.

“I love you so much,” she said finally, holding firmly onto his arm. Tommy smirked, and pulled her along with him, back towards Grace.  

∗ ∗ ∗ 

When she kissed Grace, she tasted like champagne and whiskey, with the hint of something sweet underneath it all. Maybe strawberries.

Tommy was behind Lucy, groping at her hips, kissing messily at her throat, pushing his erection forward to rub against the small of her back. Grace’s hands found her breasts through the material of her dress, squeezing them, and Lucy broke the kiss to let her head loll back onto Tommy’s shoulder, eyes rolling into the back of her skull. 

Taking her by the shoulders, Tommy spun her around to face him, mouth crashing down onto hers, grunting when she squeezed his biceps. Grace’s face nuzzled into the crook of her neck, hands still cupping her breasts. She broke away from Tommy, leaning to the side to give him the chance to kiss Grace, swapping places with him so that he was in the middle, hands shaking as she smoothed them over his chest, nibbling at his neck. 

“Tommy,” Grace whispered, reaching for his face. “Tommy, do you have someone?”

He just kissed her again. Lucy buried her face in between his shoulder blades.

“It’s too late, Tommy,” Grace tried. Lucy shivered, bottom lip wobbling when she said it. One of Tommy’s hands grasped hers where it was laying on his chest, squeezing.

“It’s eleven, Grace,” he said, noting the time on the clock. 

“I mean, it’s too late,” her voice trembled with it. Lucy pulled away from Tommy to wrap herself around Grace’s back, burying her face in her neck, breathing in her perfume. She didn’t want her to go. She never wanted her to go again. “If you had come with me to New York…” she trailed off.

“I had things to do,” he said, simply, kissing her again. Lucy petted her golden hair, letting the curls twist around her fingers, trailing them along her shoulders, feeling how it made Grace shiver.

“You mean the coin landed the wrong way?”

“It couldn’t have worked. That was the question.”

Grace just kissed him again, probably to get him to shut up. Lucy flattened one hand on the middle of Grace’s chest and slid it down, until she just grazed over her core through the material of her dress. Grace nearly sobbed, pulling away from Tommy’s mouth again.

“Tommy, do you have someone? Do either of you have someone?”

“I have a racehorse,” Tommy said, and Lucy snorted into Grace’s shoulder. “She’s gonna win the Derby.”

Lucy curled the fingers of one hand around the zipper of Grace’s dress, pulling it down slowly, grazing her hand and her lips along the newly exposed bare skin. Grace let her peel away the top half of the dress, leaving it bunched up at her waist. Tommy cupped her breasts and kissed her hungrily, rutting his clothed erection into Grace’s stomach, pulling her deeper into his arms while Lucy pressed herself flush to her back. Suddenly, Tommy's arms were around her as well, effectively squishing Grace to his front as he pulled Lucy closer, until he was able to find the zipper on her dress and pull it down. Grace spun around, pulling Lucy’s dress away, dropping her mouth to kiss at her breasts. Moaning, Lucy tangled her hands in her hair.

“Oh, fuck,” Tommy hissed, leaning around Grace to kiss Lucy, growling when she nipped playfully at his bottom lip. Grace wriggled the rest of the way out of her dress, pressing her naked body to Lucy’s firmly, bare skin sliding against each other.

Lucy let out a yelp and then a laugh as Grace suddenly pushed her back into one of the orange armchairs, her hands catching at Grace’s hips, lips pressing into the bare skin just below her navel. Tommy sank to his knees, and her legs fell open for him without him even needing to ask, his tongue finding her clit with little preamble as he began to suck.

“Here,” Lucy said, reclining her head back as much as she could. It took a little maneuvering, but eventually she had Grace settled on her face, closing her eyes and lapping at her folds with long, slow licks of her tongue. Grace shuddered, fingers closing in her hair, being careful not to pull too hard. It was hard to focus, with Tommy pushing two thick fingers into her, but she managed to mimic his movements onto Grace, tongue playing with her clit while she slipped her fingers into her, smirking as she felt Grace already start to tense with a building climax, the vibrations from Lucy’s moans only helping to get her there faster. All it took was a few more well timed strokes of her fingers, and Grace came onto her mouth with a moan, head thrown back. And Lucy was right behind her, thighs squeezing around Tommy’s head as he pushed her into an orgasm. 

Grace slid off of her, gasping for breath, while Tommy rose up to kiss Lucy, letting her sample herself on his lips while he took a taste of Grace on hers.

Grabbing at Tommy’s face, Lucy fixed him with demanding eyes. “I want to watch you fuck her.”

Grace moaned, Tommy’s hips thrusting forward at the suggestion. 

“Touch yourself,” his voice was deep and growly as he gave the order. 

Grinning, she sank down into the chair, letting her legs fall open, fingers circling around her clit. 

Tommy pulled Grace into another kiss, lowering her onto her back on the couch. His clothes were shed hastily, tossed haphazardly around the sitting room. He and Grace kissed languidly as he settled between her legs, adjusted himself, then thrusting into her with one quick roll forward. Grace moaned, legs wrapping around him as he began to thrust slowly. Lucy sighed at the sight, slipping two fingers into herself, pumping in time with Tommy’s thrusts, watching them as they kissed and thrust against the couch, Tommy cradling Grace’s head gently. The hand not pumping within herself fondled at her own breasts. A growl rumbled from the couch, Tommy watching her with dilated eyes as he continued to roll into Grace at an increasing pace.

“Lucy,” Grace suddenly cried out, gripping tightly to Tommy’s back. “Lucy, come here. Please.” 

It took a good deal of willpower to manage to pull her fingers from her sopping core, climbing to kneel on the floor beside the couch. Grace used the hand not clinging to Tommy’s shoulder to cradle the back of her head, pulling her into a deep kiss. She could tell that they were both close, turning her head to kiss Tommy next while Grace threw back her head with a cry as she came. His hips continued their slow rolls forward, and when Lucy brushed her nose along his neck, she felt him tremble and then groan, low and deep in his chest, pushing himself forward as deep as possible, bursting within Grace, the muscles in his back straining with how powerfully he came, emptying deeply and heavily inside her.

Lucy watched her lovers slump against one another with soft, fond eyes, biting back a smile at the erotic sight before her. Very slowly, Tommy raised himself back up onto his forearms, giving Grace a quick kiss on the lips before pulling out, sitting up on the couch.

“Lucy,” he said, urging her up into the space between him and Grace. Leaning back against the opposite armrest from the one Grace had her head resting on, he pulled Lucy into his lap, mouth hungry on hers, dropping down to suck on one of her nipples. 

“Mm…” she sighed as Grace pressed in from behind her, legs wrapping around both her and Tommy possessively.

“Our pretty girl,” Tommy praised, knowing well enough that he could probably have gotten her off using just his voice alone. 

Lucy could feel his erection swelling up again underneath her, only encouraged when Grace reached around her to stroke him, chuckling upon finding him already half hard, mumbling something into Lucy’s neck along the lines of, “stamina of a fucking stallion.”

The moment that he was fully hard again, he was lifting Lucy up and sheathing himself in her, groaning and pressing his face into her chest. His hips bucked up as she balanced her hands on his shoulders to stabilize herself while she rode him. All the while, Grace remained flush to her back, kissing her neck and fondling her breasts, pinching her nipples.

“Oh, fuck…” Lucy choked, head falling back to rest on Grace’s shoulder.

“That’s it…” Grace encouraged. “Fuck her good, Tommy.”

Lucy nearly sobbed, walls spasming and tightening around Tommy in a way that made him growl, cock twitching. With one hand still squeezing her breast, Grace dropped the other down to rub Lucy’s clit, and she came with a scream, still bouncing in his lap. Tommy’s thrusts remained deep and powerful, working her through it until he moaned, loud and low and–

“Oh, fuck,” she whimpered, as she felt him release yet another large load, seed thick as it coated her walls, cock spasming when it emptied. 

They all collapsed in a tangle of limbs, Tommy sprawled half on his back on the couch with Lucy on top of him, face buried in his shoulder while Grace was draped over her back, nuzzling at her neck. For a long, long while, none of them moved. Just content to lay together in a silent little bubble of satisfaction and fading pleasure. 

It was Grace who moved first. Pulling away and leaving Lucy’s back cold as she sat up, pushing her hair back.

“I have to go. It’s getting late.”

Lucy felt Tommy tense beneath her, as she raised her head, watching sadly as Grace stooped to pick up her dress. There would be no point in asking her to stay. Moving off of Tommy, she looked around, searching for her own clothes amongst the pile that had been tossed to the floor.

Slowly, silently, they all began to dress. Lucy helped Grace with her zipper, watching as Tommy pulled on his shirt and waistcoat. Grace touched her shoulder, and she turned to let her zip her back up. 

“I’ll drive you,” Tommy offered, after they were all more or less presentable. Grace nodded, silently. “When do you sail back?”  

“We don’t know yet.”

Lucy frowned at the answer.

“You don’t have a return ticket?” Tommy’s brows furrowed.

“This wasn’t right, Tommy,” Grace fretted. 

“When do you go back, Grace?” he asked, ignoring the statement. 

“They’re doing tests on us. I don’t know when they’ll be finished.”

Lucy and Tommy both stared at her blankly.

“We’re having treatment. A doctor in Harley Street. Some new thing, a breakthrough,” she hesitated. “We’re trying for a baby.”

Lucy felt like she’d been punched in the throat. Tommy stared at Grace, then looked down, rubbing at his eyes, pinching his nose, sniffing, and grabbing a cigarette from the ashtray for a drag, then setting it down again.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“The doctor believes it’s surely me who’s at fault,” Grace said, eyes sad. Tommy shook his head. Lucy swallowed around her own memory of pain, as she’d sat in that doctor’s office years ago and listened to him tell her of the surety of her barrenness.

Perhaps she and Grace were more alike than she had ever even thought.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “It’s no one’s fault.”

Lucy glanced up at him, moving a tiny step closer, wondering, not for the first time, what he would say to her if she told him the truth about her broken, sterile womb.

“I’m tired of that, Tommy,” Grace said, not unkindly, eyes miserable. He reached out, and rested a hand on her arm.

“Can I see you again?” he asked. She looked down. “Grace,” he nearly pleaded. Lucy looked at her with begging eyes, already feeling the beginning cracks in her heart as the silence, in it answer enough, stretched on and on. Tommy dropped his hand. “You still working undercover, eh?” he asked. Grace’s head snapped up, and she slapped him hard across the cheek. Tommy jerked back, but other than that, he didn’t move. Lucy’s muscles tensed on instinct. 

“I have never lied to him once,” Grace growled out, suddenly furious. Though Lucy suspected that it was more at herself than at either of them.

“So tell him the truth,” Tommy urged. 

Grace’s face twitched and shifted, looking down, she pushed some of her hair back behind her ear. “I promised that I would be home before midnight.”

Tommy let his head drop, then nodded. “Alright. We’ll drive you back,” he took Lucy’s hand, holding onto her particularly tight as he went to the door, grabbing his coat. 

They drove Grace back to her hotel in near silence, only bidding her goodbye with quick, quiet words. Watching as she disappeared inside, Tommy’s hand covered Lucy's, squeezing her fingers as they drove away.

“Lucy?” he said, voice low in the dark.

“Mhm?”

“I’m so happy that you’re still here. With me.”

She tilted her head up, gazing at the shape of his jaw in the darkness, understanding what he meant. She pressed a kiss into his cheek.

“Me too, love.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“I feel terrible,” she complained, slumping over in her seat beside him in the car, staring at May’s house with mounting dread.

“I can do it, if you’d like. You don’t even have to be there,” Tommy offered. Lucy sighed.

“I feel like I should be.”

He shrugged. “You really don’t.”

She glanced over at him. “I feel like a coward.”

“You’re not. Go do some work in the drawing room or take a nap or something. I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you.”

He just stroked her hand affectionately in answer. The guilt twisted sickly in her gut as May greeted them in the entryway with a huge smile.

Despite Tommy’s assurances, she still felt like a coward, but she really couldn't bring herself to face May. To have to watch her pretty face fall as they told her about things could no longer continue between them. So she muttered something about having a headache and needing to lay down, and left them to go to the stables on their own. 

She didn’t actually get any rest, simply laying there on her back and staring at the overly fancy canopy of the bed in one of May’s guest rooms, silently hating herself.

Poor May. They really were awful people. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“I want you to go down to the phone in the Garrison and call Alfie Solomons.”

She paused, head raising from where she’d been staring at the cobblestones as they walked. “You do?”

Tommy nodded. “Tell him that I want a meeting.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is this just because you don’t want me in the office when you meet with Campbell?”

Tommy’s lips twitched upwards. “Yes.”

Looking him over, assessing, she frowned. “Is that because you plan to kill him?”

“No,” he said, though from his tone it was clear that he very much would have liked to. “I just don’t want him near you,” she opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off before she could speak. “But I really do need to set up a meeting with Alfie.”

Giving him a once over, she nodded. “What do you think Campbell wants?”

“Probably to talk about Russell’s house being burned out and the location of the assassination being changed.”

“And you’re still going to suggest Epsom on Derby day?”

“I am.” 

“Okay,” she shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’ll head over to the Garrison now.”

“Thank you.”

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[danilovesivars]

Not My Baby to Hold

Hey Charlie, I wrote something a little more than a week ago. I closed my laptop and didn’t save it. It was gone. I was exhausted I couldn’t write it again. I’m tired. Tuesday I started feeling very anxious and uneasy. Like I felt like you were lost. Like I didn’t know where you were. Denial was setting back in. Wednesday I took Riley to school but when we got in there we were waiting to talk to her principal and the office was really busy and she got really anxious and broke down. Eventually she did better and I went home. When I got home I got angry. So angry. I couldn’t control he tears. Then the tears turned into screaming so much shouting and screaming from the bottom of my lungs. Eventually I couldn’t breathe. I tried to get outside for air but it didn’t help. Our neighbour was out and came right over and sat with me until I started to calm down a bit. Then the school called because Riley was sick. The rest of the night tears just continued to slowly stream down my face. While I tried to watch tv, while I read, while I slept. Today I feel exhausted and dehydrated. No amount of water seems to be enough. I feel weak and shaky. It won't stop. It’s interesting how every time you cycle into another grief stage it knocks you over so hard. I don’t get it Charlie. I’m very confused. I literally feel like I can’t find you like my brain has decided that’s easier than admitting you are gone. I went from finding comfort in looking at your photos and videos. Your smile made me smile. Now I can’t breathe. I have so much heaviness in my chest. It’s so physically real I wonder how my heart hasn’t stopped. Last week was a lot of things. One day I took Riley to the park. As we approached the park I saw a toddler in the toddler swing. I felt a pang and I looked away and tried not to think about it. Eventually the parents brought him over to where Riley was sitting. Oh Charlie this little boy looked so much like you. Just so much like you. He was about your size, he had light brown hair with little curls. He turned and looked at me his big brown eyes and long eyelashes caught the sunlight and he smiled. For a moment I felt my body out of reflex want to reach for him but my brain knew it wasn’t you. That’ was not my baby to hold. I was overwhelmed. I couldn’t hold in the tears. I tried so hard and probably sounded like I had some hiccups or was hyperventilating. I called Riley and told her we had to leave. She didn’t hesitate she saw I was upset and we headed home. I tried to keep it together but I kept crying. Later that week Riley and I were heading to the store when I saw a dad carrying his little boy on his shoulder like Daddy carried you.They crossed the street ahead of us. As I pulled up to stop at the intersection to make a left hand turned I looked left for traffic that’s when I saw it. The little boy looked up over his dads shoulder and straight into the car and made eye contact as he waved at me. but not a typical toddler wave. A Charlie stiff armed wave. I waved back. “Hi baby” I heard myself say. I cry-laughed the whole way to the store. He was tiny like you. Brown hair but much curlier, brown skinned, brown eyed. It wasn’t my baby to hold but I knew in that moment my baby was sending me a hello. Which brings me to something else from last week. We hung some illustrations around the house. Remember Daddy’s coworker drew pictures of him and Riley? She drew one of you as well. So we framed the one of Riley and the one of you and hung them over the couch. We had to move the mirror. At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. You liked to watch TV through the mirror. But we still have the big mirror in the bedroom you liked to watch yourself in. 

We hung another one too in your room. Tia’s daddy made it for us. It’s actually a drawing of my favourite picture of you. He titled it Charlie Forever in Touch. I cried when I saw it. His drawing was also beautiful. But the title. He saw what I see when I look at that picture. You still reaching for me. I actually even started making albums from your pictures - one of you laughing, one of you with the pets, one of you with the grandparents and great grandparents but it started with ones of you forever reaching. Forever in touch. 

It’s amazing how both artists captured your eyes perfectly. I can stare into them forever. Tomorrow is Riley’s birthday. She wanted you to be the special guest on Sunday at her birthday party. When you were in the hospital, the day they told Daddy and I the outlook wasn’t good Mommy had to come home and limit the information we told Riley. We would be assisted with the Child Life specialists the next day. As we were getting in the house she said “I’m going to make Charlie the special guest at my birthday party”. I didn’t know what to do I cried so hard. She insisted you would be okay but I knew. Not because the doctors suspected it. but I knew I could feel it in my gut and I hated it and I kept trying to bury the feeling and deny it. The next morning I was so numb and so confused. We packed some of your favourite toys I tried to find the noisiest ones to wake you up. I got so mad and fixated on finding your Cory Carson when Riley came up to me and said “Mommy... I think Charlie would rather us just be there than you find his Cory” Then she just took charge packing things. I was so proud of her. I think she knew too. I wanted to just throw up.  She’s hoping your elves Glitter and Gar show up in the morning. I think she’s only expecting Glitter. After you passed a few days later she sadly asked if I thought Gar passed too. Garland came after you were born and was connected to you. I think Gar will be here tomorrow. I think he will be sad. He will miss you horribly. I’m not sure what they will say. Because none of this makes any sense not even the elves can explain the pain away. She loves them dearly though. Almost as much as she loved you. You were her whole world. She’s not herself lately and I’m very worried for her. It could be just because I’m hyper alert now. But she does feel lonely. Maybe the elves can help her feel a little bit better and less alone. Maybe they can remind her we are here and you are forever in touch.

[azureaqua]

Has anyone done this for ikepri? — Artbreeder series — (Pt. 3)

↓

Part 1 here! → Part 2 here!

Let's resume for the third time!

By popular demand here are the 3 new princes from Jade, Obsidian and Benitoite!

• Keith Howell

(He was the easiest. Precious boy. I love him, mainly because I didn't struggle with him. I like his innocent expression, I think I captured that well haha. I only edited his eye color later, since his design isn't complicated. He's got two versions; neutral and smiley.)

• Gilbert von Obsidian

(This dude. Honestly the way I debated back-and-forth with his features and later editing his eyepatch... Unbelievable. Also, one time I went overboard and edited his hair way to much, since in artbreeder it came out way to long, but his face was on point so I thought I'll deal with that later on. I've got more drafts with him, with different expressions, but these two are the only ones I'm willing to show. Mainly because of the hair and eyepatch, since I'm not gonna edit— or actually DRAW them onto the other pieces any time soon lol. I got tired of the black locks. I actually prefer the longer, curlier hair, now that I see them side-by-side, but that's not the original design, mine just came out like that haha.)

(Okay, you know what, I give you a smiling one as a bonus, without the eyepatch, but with the weird half-edited hair. Because I'm nice.)

• Silvio Ricci

(THE MAN YOU ARE TODAY. I made 2 semi-final drafts with him, because I was struggling so much catching his features! In both of them, he looked like Nokto, obviously because I mixed his face into it, mainly for the hair color. In the end, days later, with 5 different faces I managed to mix this, as a final draft and I'm actually happy. But it was a long way. I also drew his earring again myself, kinda weird, looks even more out of place than Yves' but still acceptable. Again, two expressions; neutral and small smiling, because why not. Also his hair is weird, as per usual. ;))

...So, uh, the princes are done, I don't know if I should bother to make an Emma one, we'll see.

But I'm quite happy with all of them, in the end. Although I said that I struggled a lot, it's nice looking back at them completed, and it's actually fun and interesting to do this, especially the mixing part; experimenting with their features, what looks right, what doesn't and the fact that they look more realistic with these edits. Like they came to life, in a weird still-not-entirely-realistic-but-somewhat-more-realistic way. Yup. Hope you enjoyed, anyways!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

aquarium ii | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader; ex-jungkook x reader

summary: Life after Jeon Jungkook was grey. You had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. But what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in Kim Taehyung’s hand.

warnings: reader discretion is advised: a (half-hearted) suicide attempt; mentions of cheating in previous relationship; language; heavy angst; fluffiest fluff; non-idol!AU; kind garden-loving landlord!Taehyung x reader; ft. sadboi!Jungkook

–

part i

-

now playing – without me by halsey ft. JUICE WRLD

tell me, how's it feel sittin' up there? feelin’ so high, but too far away to hold me

You couldn’t remember that night very well, because you didn’t come up.

The worst part about being cheated on was not the actual cheating. It was the moment where you thought you had done something wrong, like somehow it was your fault it happened, like if you hadn’t done this or that, maybe things would have been different. Maybe if you hadn’t chosen that night to snoop into Jeon Jungkook’s phone, he would have had second thoughts, deleted it all, and loved you again. Maybe if you were a little kinder, a little more attentive, he wouldn’t have fallen out of love with you. Maybe... Maybe.

Maybe.

You knew that was just your brain trying to rationalize his irrationality. You had done wrong by invading his privacy by acting on sheer gut feeling. And you had run away, without confronting it, without giving him a chance, because you knew, you knew that if you gave him a chance, you would believe all his words, get dragged back into his sea, back into those dangerous waters.

All these thoughts coursed through you as the water closed in.

The milky bathwater was slowly replacing your depleting air, leaking into your lungs and you didn’t fight it, turning the darkness of the underside of your eyelids into light, because deep down you still loved him, no matter how stupid or foolish it was. Your heart still clung to his soft, I’m sorry, and you didn’t want to hear it anymore.

You didn’t want to know what loving Jeon Jungkook was like anymore. It was too painful.

you know i'm the one who put you up there name in the sky, does it ever get lonely?

You gave everything so he could be what he wanted to be, not knowing that you were the one slowly being eroded. No one could tell you. You were the one who had to find the signs. You were the one who found yourself trapped in glass walls, stuck in an aquarium, surrounded on all sides by Jeon Jungkook as he made a mockery of your feelings.

You screamed into the water and no one heard you.

The next memory you had was hazy, barely there.

You felt a tightness in your chest, harsh, solid pressure. A frustrated, agonized voice above you, desperately calling your name in deep baritone, desperately asking you to come back, praying in every language he knew for you to come back, come back, please, please, please.

“Please…”

In the whiteness, you wandered. Were you meant to be here? It was a loose fog. You looked around, seeing traces of memory like torn book pages, slipping through the haze. You reached out to touch them and they disappeared, only mirages.

And then you fell, dragged into dark blue, torn, battered, lungs burning as you struggled to stay afloat, coughing hard, your muscles screaming with asphyxiation, sudden oxygen flooding your brain. You whipped your head to the side, hacking up water, spilling it all over the green tiles of the bathroom floor, head pounding. Thoughts swimming, barely computing the shouting above you.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” one voice growled above your jerking body, so venomous that it made your blood run cold. “You absolute disaster of a man, thinking for one fucking second she would even consider taking you back. Look at her! She’d rather drown herself in my damn bathtub than hold a conversation with you!”

“What the fuck do you know?” The familiar voice, the voice that haunted you in your nightmares, the voice that fed you sweet poison. “She would do anything for me! She worships the fucking ground I walk on!”

You curled up into a ball, head pounding by the sudden explosion of light and sound. There was a towel over you, covering your wet naked body, and yet you shivered. You barely registered Kim Taehyung snarling, rising to his feet.

“You narcissistic bastard,” Taehyung spat out. “Get the fuck out of my house. Get the fuck out and don’t ever come near her again or I’ll break your fucking neck.”

“You can’t do anything to me. You’re a nobody,” Jeon Jungkook taunted. “Unlike you, I actually have money to sue you for assault.”

Apparently, Taehyung did not give a single shit, because he immediately roared and launched himself past you, the brown ball slamming into the black wall. You blinked, trying to register what was happening, but it was too much for you and your brain that was slowly trying to restore function due to lack of oxygen. They tumbled down the stairs and you laid your head against the floor, hearing the grunts and shouting, wondering why Taehyung had come back.

Wondering how he knew.

You closed your eyes.

In your dreams, you saw the soft sunlight glowing against Taehyung’s tan skin as he reached down to retrieve a dark green cucumber to show you. It was a bit wonky and hadn’t grown quite right, but you watched Taehyung tap it and smile to himself.

“Doesn’t matter what it looks like on the outside,” he said cheerfully. “I know it will still taste delicious because I gave it love.”

-

You tried to go back to work, but it was awful.

You loved your work. Perhaps it was boring to others, accounting all day, but it was mundane and peaceful, always knowing what you had to do. You never had to question the numbers. The numbers were what they were and that was that.

But now when you stared out into the grey urban jungle, it pained you.

What once was your safe haven turned into your cage, chaining you to clock in, clock out. You would go home to a motel nearby, crying into unfamiliar, starched sheets, pitying housekeepers preparing your meals, asking you what was wrong and you couldn’t tell them.

Because you didn’t know.

i'm sad inside, but i know it's for the best, right? you had to realize where you drew the line 

You didn’t check his social media. You didn’t check his Twitch, his Instagram, his Twitter. You got a new phone, only giving your new number to your work and your parents. With a start, you realized you hadn’t contacted your old high school friends in years. You had lost them all, committing social suicide for Jeon Jungkook. In fact, you had no social media presence, so there was no need to download those apps.

There was nothing on your old phone that you wanted. It sat in the storage unit, forgotten. You didn’t want to turn on your old phone to see the photos, the lock screen of his arms around you, smile on his face from two years ago.

A smile you didn’t even know was real or fake.

i still hate it when you’re not there

You tried to tell yourself you were fine, because moping over Jeon Jungkook was stupid. But you had invested so much. You had given him everything. It was hard to regrow. You were stuffed in this tiny motel room, staring out to the hazy, polluted city, yellow sunlight fighting to be seen.

You sat by the window, clutching your pink flats, remembering Taehyung’s last words to you before you left.

“I looked up the brand and bought you some new ones,” he had said sheepishly. “I felt bad that they got so ruined, all because I asked you to help me with the garden.” He gave you that big, boxy smile. “Just think of them as a parting gift for being such a great tenant.”

You inhaled a deep breath, placing the pale pink flats next to the exact same style but grass-stained, greyed-out, worn ones. You stared at them both.

And made a choice.

-

“I thought I would never see you again.”

You lifted your head. The scent of flowers, so familiar and comforting, wafted around you, a reassuring embrace. You were wearing a long-sleeved white dress, a brown ribbon around the collar. The pink flats, the ones the owner of the deep baritone voice had gifted you.

That was nearly six months ago now. You had since thrown away the other ones.

Kim Taehyung walked up to you. He was wearing brown overalls and a cream shirt, elbows smeared with dirt. His skin had lightened due to the passing winter, but it was spring now. The flower shop was very busy, but there were other employees, and Taehyung was fixated on you.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Taehyung said quietly, his brown eyes shimmering. “I would have come here a lot more often if I knew.”

You bit you lip and bowed your head politely, smiling at him. Taehyung coughed and rubbed the back of his head, messing up his dark brown hair. It was longer and curlier now, desperately needing a trim.

“I… I came to get carnations. The shop I normally go to ran out.”

You nodded, leading him wordlessly to the red and pink carnations. There was still a good number left, but you had to pick through carefully to find the most beautiful ones for him. He watched you work, chewing on his lip. You held up the large bouquet to him.

“What do you think?” you asked softly.

He smiled at you. “Perfect.” He didn’t ask the price. “Could you make two corsages out of a few of them?”

“Of course. Right this way.”

You brought him to one of the counters, selecting a few blooms to make the corsages. You showed him the available ribbons and he picked a thin, sheer white one. He watched you work, quickly, but delicately, careful not to bruise the petals.

“You became an expert about flowers,” he remarked. “I’m still struggling.”

You smiled. “I’m still learning. It’s very different from what I used to do.” You twisted the ribbon into a perfect bow, using floral wire to secure it.

“You don’t talk to him anymore, do you?”

You shook your head. “Haven’t seen him since that day you threw him down your stairs.”

Taehyung laughed a little too loud, making the patrons stare at him. He coughed nervously, cramming the crumpled brown hat under his arm onto his head. You placed your hand over your lips, trying to hide your chuckle. Your fingertips smelled like phloem sap from the cut stems, sweet and grassy.

Taehyung gazed at you, surrounded by flowers, carnations laid out on the counter.

“Will you… let me take a picture of you?”

You blinked at him, lips parting.

Taehyung reached into his pocket, pulling out an old 35mm film camera. He looked sheepish as he held it up, hesitating.

“Sorry, I just… you look so beautiful, and I don’t want to forget that.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I know it’s a weird habit. But I like to take pictures and I never took one of you.” He looked deep into your eyes.

“I really regret not taking a picture of you.”

Your fingers were still over your mouth. You nodded.

Taehyung held the camera up and snapped a photo.

-

“He waits for you to get off work every day. It’s been a week now.”

The manager was teasing you, nudging your arm as you tugged on your long camel coat. You smiled at her, an old woman with knowing eyes that had seen and enjoyed a lot of life. Taehyung waved across the street as you made eye contact with him.

“There aren’t men like him anymore, you know,” she said gently. “These kinds of things happened in my generation, but now young people send pictures of flowers instead of the real thing.”

When you thanked the manager and walked out to Taehyung, he held out a small bundle of tiny flowers to you. White cosmos. You stopped, surprised. Breathless as you looked up at him. He was illuminated by a streetlight and the dying sun, the golden hour matching his golden skin. Holding out the white cosmos, shivering in the spring breeze.

“They’re not that pretty,” he said guiltily, stepping up to you. “I’ve been trying to grow flowers for months now and these are the only ones that survived, ahahaha…”

He scratched his head, brushing his hair back.

“I always hoped that if I saw you again, I could show you that I was able to finally grow flowers.” Taehyung laughed, shrugging apologetically. “This is all I got.”

You reached out and took the small bundle from him. They were a bit curled and slightly wilted from being carried around but you smiled at them.

“No one has ever grown flowers for me,” you said quietly.

The tiny yellow centers of each flower were surrounded by white. You counted seven. Taehyung had given you seven flowers. Seven flowers he grew on his own, because he wanted to show you. You placed your fingers on your mouth, the scent of the floral shop returning to you with the action. Your chest felt tight and full, a feeling unlike any other.

“I wanted to grow at least eight,” Taehyung lamented. “Because that would be luckier, but…”

You shook your head quickly, looking up at him. Him and his beautiful brown eyes, a small patch of dirt underneath his cheek. He probably didn’t even know it was there.

“No.”

You removed your hand from your lips and smiled at him.

“Seven is perfect.”

You threw your hands around him and hugged him tightly.

-

When Jeon Jungkook saw you again, everything was different.

He was distracting himself from school. University was much harder than he thought, especially since he didn’t attend right after high school to pursue his streaming career.

For a long time, he had someone to take care of him, first his mom and then you. Someone to do everything so he could recklessly chase his dreams. But things were different now. He had to suddenly become an adult. It wasn’t because of you. You hadn’t told anyone what happened.

But everyone knew.

One girl had let it slip, and then another and another, and then screenshots were plastered everywhere, all over the internet for anyone to see, not knowing the context, tossing judgements left and right. His parents found out and then his friends, everyone disappointed in him, not surprised that you vanished without a trace. He had to vanish too, every sponsor cutting ties with him immediately, not asking if it was true or not. It was bad for business to be associated with something like that.

Jungkook really regretted it now, but there was nothing he could do to take it back.

That’s why he was sitting in this tiny, one room apartment, using what was leftover from his streaming money to get a degree, saving every penny to his education. At least he hadn’t been so reckless to overspend. You hadn’t let him, always reminding him to save for his future, using your own income to pay for the necessities.

Even now, you were helping him.

Every once in a while, Jungkook would type variations of your old Instagram username into the search bar, wondering if you had ever set it up again. He had asked you to delete it, since you had been getting constant DMs from guys asking you out, sending you unsolicited dick pics. You had agreed, even through you could have fought him or simply privated it.

You had deleted it, Jungkook knew now, because he asked you and you loved him.

It hurt to know that you loved him so dearly and he was too busy feeding his own ego to see it.

When Jungkook saw you again, you were surrounded by flowers.

Your profile picture was a close up shot of your beautiful face, golden sun against your skin, a white cosmos tucked behind your ear. He knew it was you. He could tell by the shape of your lips, the contours of your eyes, even through your eyes were closed. Wearing a white dress, the ruffles fluttering in the wind.

Jungkook was breathless, seeing you again. He scrolled through your pictures. They were mostly of flowers, with captions of how to grow them. Were you a florist now? Some of them were of you in different dresses, surrounded by blue sky and green summer. The smile on your face was so dazzling that he wondered who gave you that smile.

His heart wrenched uncomfortably in his chest.

Or maybe it wasn’t a someone.

There was a time when that smile was his. There was a time when he could make you smile like that, your lips saying his name breathlessly – “Jungkook, Jungkook, look at this!” – showing him something silly or giving him his favorite banana milk with special edition packaging, saying how cute it was, just like him.

He blinked and a droplet fell onto his phone.

Right on your smiling face, hand holding a large straw hat, your pink dress fluttering in the wind.

Jungkook wiped it away, swiping at his tears with the sleeve of his black sweatshirt, wondering why had he taken that smile for granted, why he had drifted away from the safe coast, why he had thought, even for a second, that the days and nights you spent cleaning after him meant that you were keeping yourself busy and away from him, not seeing it for what it was, not seeing that it was your love for him and his own sloppiness that left him here now, staring at your summer as his summer was torn from him by textbooks and lectures.

He shuddered, still looking at the pictures, not wanting to miss a moment, even if they weren’t his moments anymore.

One of your pictures was a bundle of seven white cosmos, a little wilted and sad-looking.

Jungkook read the caption.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t think you’re beautiful. Because there is someone out there who thinks you are. They use every resource they know to give you love, even if it’s clumsy at first. Even if you don’t think you need it or want it.

The tears were really coming now, streaming down his cheeks as Jungkook asked himself why, why did he give this up?

They celebrate you and your love instead of simply tolerating it.

-

You sat on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the side.

Your pink flats were right beside you, and your arms were resting on the wooden fence. The ocean breeze was strong here, salty and cold. But you didn’t feel the cold, because Kim Taehyung had wrapped a thick wool blanket around you two. It was already night, but by the seaside it was still chilly, even in the summer, due to the sea breeze.

He peeled the foil back on a roasted sweet yam, taking off some of the skin so you could bite into it. You tried to take it from him but he shook his head, frowning at you. You laughed and took a bite, scalding your mouth from how hot it was. But it still tasted good.

“I asked my parents if I could have it.”

You looked up at him, trying to blow the steaming air from your mouth in attempt to cool off.

“The cottage?”

Taehyung nodded, taking a bite and wincing. “You’ll never guess what they said.”

You smiled. “What did they say?”

He scowled. “Then pay rent!” He waved a hand to the seaside house behind you two. “They own it! Why do I have to pay rent? I’m their son!”

You giggled, hiding your mouth behind you hand. Taehyung angrily bit into the sweet yam again and choked, forgetting how hot it was. Your giggles turned into full-blown laughter, falling back onto the grass, wool softening your fall. Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you, shaking the yam furiously. The white moonlight glinted off the silver foil. He puffed his cheeks and sighed as your laughter faded out.

You looked up at the stars, realizing how clear the sky was here.

It was nothing like the city.

Even in darkness, the white stars shone against the black, bright and clear. You wouldn’t have seen them if you weren’t here, on your back and looking up at them.

“Anyway, they only said it was a hundred won, so I guess that’s fine,” Taehyung grumbled. “Really made me worried there for a second, sheesh.”

You turned your head to look up at him. “You going to live here?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“No, you are.”

You blinked, taken aback. He rewrapped the yam, determining it was too hot to eat right now. He gazed down at you, smiling a little.

“It’s better than that one room you have in that house. Safer too.”

You chewed on your lip. “But I can’t pay the amount I paid when I rented it…”

Taehyung poked you with the yam. “Weren’t you listening? The rent is a hundred won. No, two hundred for you, since I have to make some profit.”

He laid down next to you, eye to eye now, smile getting bigger.

“Although I hear there’s this annoying gardener that comes around every day caring for the plants.”

You were smiling now too, drawn by his cheeky, boxy grin.

“Really? I think he’s pretty cute. I think that’s how he gets away with it.”

His brown eyes locked with yours.

“Will you let me care for you too?”

The sound of the sea, crashing into the rockface, constructing a new memory for you.

“I know you’ll be much harder than a plant,” Taehyung murmured quietly. “Sorry, that’s a dumb thing to say, I meant–”

You pressed your lips against his, cold air chilling your cheeks, warmth spreading throughout your soul.

When you pulled away, breathless, Taehyung was staring at you, eyes wide. Those three words came to you, words that you thought you were never going to say again, words you had for someone else, but you knew this was the right one, the perfect flower.

The one who struggled to grow seven flowers.

White cosmos.

Just for you.

“I love you, Kim Taehyung.”

-

The next summer.

Seven flowers. White cosmos, bright, glowing, perfectly shaped. Surrounding your left hand. The ring finger held a princess-cut diamond surrounded by six tiny small ones like petals.

The caption.

He grew them perfectly this time.

Jeon Jungkook sighed heavily, placing his phone back in his pocket. The noise around him was loud, clattering and chattering, now a familiar atmosphere. The black bucket hat was low over his eyes, shrouding them. He pulled his face mask higher, hiding his features, not wanting to be recognized. Internet shame was enough; he didn’t need public shame as well. He already had to switch universities because of it.

Jungkook placed his hand back onto the subway rail, shouldering his backpack, staring out the train window at the black tunnel.

--

masterpost

[pressedinthepages]

Decembert Day 17 - Festive Cake

@continentcakeshop thanks as always for the encouragement <3

Rating: E

Relationship: Lambert/Eskel

Content Tags: TW3 Lambert and Eskel, smut, oral, rimming, whipped cream, modern au, Eskel Is The Festive Cake

Summary: After a long day of work, Lambert comes home starving.

Lambert left his boots and coat at the door, shivering and rubbing his hands across opposite arms to soothe some warmth back into his skin. He climbed the stairs two at a time, intent on peeling off his scratchy jeans and stiff button down in favor of Naked Blanket Relaxation.

He tipped open his bedroom door and found Eskel laying facedown on their bed. He was naked, save for a cheeky little swirl of whipped cream nestled at the dip of his spine above his ass. Lambert felt all remaining thought abandon his brain and head south.

His mind raced in ambling circles, chasing any thread of rational thought before the sound of Eskel softly chuckling pulled him back to reality. “Gonna just stand there all day?”

Lambert huffed a breath of laughter. “I…well. I could appreciate this view until I die. What’s the occasion, big guy?”

Eskel, with his head still resting on his forearms, shrugged. “Nothin’ in particular. Figured you’d be hungry when you got home.”

“Yeah,” Lambert breathed, approaching the edge of the bed where Eskel’s feet hung off, “starving.”

Lambert could hear the smirk on Eskel’s lips. “Then come have some cake.”

Eskel wiggled his hips, the soft rounds of his ass waving back and forth as Lambert dragged his hand up his calf. He was warm beneath Lambert’s fingers, his hair curlier and silkier the further up his leg Lambert went. Putting his knee up on the bed, Lambert kept going, pressing his fingers gently into the impossibly soft skin of his inner thigh and adding his other hand on Eskel’s other leg.

His fingers moved in symmetrical patterns, dipping and spreading the ample flesh as Eskel moaned lowly. “Go on, Lambert. Have a taste.”

Lambert sighed with a tender feeling nestled behind his eyes. “Oh, it would be an honor.”

He guided Eskel to shift his legs a bit, spreading his thighs to reveal the furled ring of muscle between his legs. Lambert settled himself fully onto the bed between Eskel’s legs and got himself comfortable before dipping his head down. He dragged his tongue slowly through some of the whipped cream, dragging the sweet sugary goodness down between Eskel’s legs and around his entrance.

Eskel moaned and fisted his hands in the sheets beneath him as Lambert swirled his tongue, mixing sweet and musky with each savoring pass. “Fuck, Lambert, m-more, like that…”

Lambert hummed and dragged his tongue back up for more cream, nipping and sucking his way back down to Eskel’s entrance. He felt him relax with each coaxing pass of his tongue, more and more until he could lick into him and taste him even deeper. His fingers held Eskel open, digging into the flesh of his ass and keeping him steady as his hips bucked into his touch.

He drew Eskel higher and higher, urging him to chase his climax as he felt his own trousers tighten with the taste of sugary arousal. He hummed into Eskel as he snaked one of his hands around his front, wrapping around the base of Eskel’s weeping cock and stroking lightly.

Eskel shouted and moaned, sheets tearing between his fingers as Lambert stroked him at a breakneck pace, fucking him with his tongue and slicking his hand with precum that leaked steadily from him. “I-’Bert, ‘m not gonna last-”

Lambert nodded against him and licked harder, faster, snapping his wrist in quick strokes until he felt Eskel tense beneath him. He kept that pace for the three heartbeats that it took for Eskel to plummet into orgasm, feeling the warm spurts of his spend coat his fingers and drip down onto the sheets. He slowed his tongue, laving around Eskel’s entrance with soft laps to coax him from the high.

Lambert sighed and sat up, dragging his hands gently over Eskel’s hips and rolling him over. The sheets were a lost cause anyways, what’s a bit of whipped cream smushed into them?

Eskel chuckled as he looked up at Lambert with orgasm-drunk eyes. “You should see your beard. ‘S all white.”

Lambert smirked and leaned over Eskel, pressing their lips together in a sweet embrace after a long day apart. “I’ll clean it up in a bit. Wanna just…relax for a while.”

“Good,” Eskel hummed, dragging his fingers along Lambert’s sides and coming around to unbutton his shirt. As he was undressed, Lambert was struck with a sudden thought.

“Hey,” he murmured between Eskel pressing their lips together, “how’d you put the whipped cream back there all by yourself?”

Eskel chuckled and slipped Lambert’s sleeves from his shoulders. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

[vesuvian-american-fics]

Warm Like Honey... Ch 1

Spring...

You are the ace of the Fukurodani Girls Volleyball Club, and a second year. Also, you're a foreign student having moved to Japan from America years ago when your mom remarried. You attend a celebratory dinner for making it to the Tokyo Spring Volleyball Tournament with Bokuto, Akaashi, Kuroo, and Kenma. You develop a minor crush on the short blonde, and unbeknownst to you... he likes you too. Years pass while Kenma ignores his feelings and you decide never to reveal yours in fear of losing your friendship. How will the two of you open up to one another romantically? (AO3)

Words: 4,154

“Kuro... how is it that we’re meeting Akaashi and Bokuto, but we’re here first? Usually, Akaashi makes it on time despite his handicap. (Bokuto)” Kenma asked while absentmindedly scrolling through his social media. Kuroo snorted at the remark before checking his texts for any update from Akaashi.

The four of them were meant to meet up to have dinner at this yakiniku place Bokuto found to celebrate making it to another spring volleyball tournament together. Kuroo’s brow arched in curiosity at the words on the screen of his phone.

“Looks like Bokuto’s bringing a friend? The ace from the girls' team.” He tossed his phone to the table before taking another sip of his cola. Kenma visibly curled in on himself. His shoulders slouching even further than he knew possible. His raven-haired friend chuckled at his visceral reaction.

“If I’d known he bring someone else I would have refused to come...” He mumbled his complaint. Kuroo shook his head before he replied.

“Don’t be like that, you need more friends.” He crooned, loving the way Kenma’s face twisted in disgust.

“That’s too troublesome-–” Before Kenma could continue to complain he noticed Kuroo’s demeanor shift, his eyes tracking someone from across the restaurant near the front doors.

Bokuto’s large frame shuffled through the front doors, the boys watched as Akaashi stood obediently behind his ace watching as he asked for their table. The hostess swiftly led the two boys to their booth. Kuroo noted the way a third person trailed behind them both. She looked tall, only a couple of inches shorter than Akaashi. Her hair was curlier than most, big and voluminous about her frame, but still Bokuto’s body obscured the rest of the view.

The three of them thanked the hostess for guiding them to their table before Akaashi greeted Kenma and Kuroo.

“Kuroo-san, Kozume-san. Good evening.” He said, his voice soft and straight to the point. Kenma only nodded, busying himself with his drink and avoiding eye contact. Kuroo, gave his greetings, before giving Bokuto their signature handshake.

“Bokuto! Good to see you, w-who this?” Kuroo asked, cursing the way his voice trembled. Kenma finally tore his eyes from the bubbles floating around his soda to lift them up to where you stood. Bokuto stood in the way before finally shifting to the side to give you a loud introduction.

“This!! Is L/N Y/N! The ace of the girls’ team at Fukurodani! She’s a second year!” He shouted excitedly, gaining the attention of the other patrons of the restaurant. Kenma flinched at his volume shutting his eyes before he opened them again and they fell upon your face.

You were tall, about 5’9 if he had to guess. A womanly figure with a bit of muscles on the arms, you looked strong which was how he guessed you managed to be the ace. Your lips looked soft and pillowy as they stretched into a big smile as you took Kuroo’s hand to shake. Your black hair framed your face nicely, tight curls bouncing about with your every movement. Your scent was warm, like honey and cinnamon, and that happened to be the perfect way to describe your skin tone. A warm mahogany tone, you looked smooth and bronzed in the amber lighting above the booth. You were beautiful and obviously foreign. Your American accent was endearing even though your Japanese was fluent.

Kenma’s eyes turned more cat like as his curiosity mounted, suddenly there was nothing more interesting than this new girl Bokuto was introducing. His stare was intense, only when you shyly waved at him did he finally blink.

“This is Kenma.” Kuroo stated, reclaiming his seat behind him. Kenma only nodded awkwardly, cursing his shy personality for keeping him from introducing himself.

“Hello, Kozume-san.” You greeted politely; your voice was soft but unlike any he heard before maybe it was the accent but it was smooth.

“Let’s eat!” Bokuto cut in, plopping down in his seat next to Akaashi while you took the spot on the end, right across from Kenma. Making eye contact, you blessed him with another kind smile.

“Bokkun... could you pass me a plate please.” You asked playfully, to which Bokuto confidently obliged.

Oh. So that’s it. She has a crush on Bokuto of course. Kenma chewed his cheek before taking out his phone to take his attention away from you and the way you had a nickname for Bokuto. Kuroo eyed Kenma for only a moment before light conversation overtook the table.

It wasn’t long before Kuroo was interrogating you, but you were nice so you answered his every question with ease.

“I notice an accent, L/N, where are you from?” Kuroo asked placing his chin into the palm of his hand.

“Born in America, but not too long after I was born my father passed. Years later my mom remarried to a Japanese man, so he taught us the language and after some years he wanted us to see Japan. Then we moved out here and it’s been great ever since!” You grinned cheerfully despite everything.

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss L/N-san.” Akaashi said sincerely. Kenma took it they never asked about your past before.

“No, no! It’s fine, I love my dad and my new one! I’m very happy to be here.” You said placing some meat into the spicy broth to cook. You cleared your throat before continuing on.

“But enough about me, I want to know about you two! What positions do you play?” You quipped, eyes flipping between Kuroo and Kenma. Kenma suddenly perked up at this, surprising Kuroo the way he sat himself up straight to respond.

“I’m setter, he’s the captain.” He said, his voice sounding small and weak. His thin brows knitting together for a fraction of a second.

“Oh, just like these two that’s funny. Haha!” You giggled at the irony before leaning in pressing Kenma to speak more. His cheeks dusted a pink shade, something not unnoticed by Kuroo. Akaashi would have caught it too had Bokuto not been chatting along and he listening intently.

He stammered before he could get the words from his chest. Pitying him, Kuroo took over.

“Kenma here is super smart, the best setter I’ve met!” He gave Akaashi a sly grin as his attention was piqued.

“Kenma’s great but I like Akaashi most!!” Bokuto barked, hooking his muscular arm roughly around his friend's neck pulling him close. Akaashi choked on his onigiri under Bokuto’s grip but never fought to remove himself.

Kuroo copied Bokuto’s action, hooking his own arm around Kenma before he had time to move away. He snatched him close making Kenma flail and drop his chopsticks.

“Kuro, please don’t do that.” He groaned; a serious frown plastered on his features. You tried in vain to stifle your giggles behind your hand, turning your face away from the four to spare them. Your hair and your gold hoop earrings jumped along with each chuckle. It accented your skin perfectly, Kenma had an eye for details like this since he spent a lot of time taking in the outfits of the characters from his RPGs. His face immediately softened, a small smile etching its way across his lips as he reluctantly dragged his eyes off of you.

The three others noticed the exchange before glancing amongst each other to see if they all caught that. After that, the night drew on as usual, conversation, laughter, eating and drinking. Just a lot more fun than usual, Kenma noticed.

After a few hours of fun, you checked your phone. Right on schedule, your dad was texting about when you’ll be on the way home. You released a reluctant sigh.

“Bokkun, Akaashi. My dad’s asking for me.” You gave a sad smile to Kuroo and Kenma. Kuroo smiled back whereas Kenma actually looked sad, an evident slouch in his shoulders and downturn to his lips. You held his glance for a beat longer than what was offered to Kuroo before the five of you all stood in unison to leave, the bill having been split and paid half an hour ago.

Walking outside you stuck close to Bokuto, something Kenma wish he hadn’t noticed. You turned to smile at the two boys before pulling your coat closer around you.

“I had fun; it was nice meeting you! If ya got time at the spring tournament, come watch me play!” You cheered, waving goodbye to the Nekoma boys before turning on your heel walking in between Akaashi and Bokuto. Kenma gave a small wave in your direction before walking in the opposite direction and heading for the train station. It was a brisk night, so Kenma hoped he could blame the chilly weather for his flushed cheeks.

“You have some explaining to do my boy.” Kuroo teased playfully, leaning down into Kenma’s headspace causing his junior to scowl and move away. He pulled out his phone to play some mobile games and drown out Kuroo’s questioning.

“You look at her the way you look at Chibi-chan! You like her!” Kuroo announced with a laugh. Kenma rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

“I don’t look at Shoyo any certain way Kuro...” He grumbled, scanning his card for the train and leaving Kuroo behind while he scrambled for his wallet. But Kuroo was right, Kenma did have a special patience and joy when around Hinata Shoyo. He was fun and exciting and Kenma couldn’t quite place why he enjoyed his presence, and paid more attention to him than he did his childhood friend Kuro.

“Well whatever, you better do something before Bokuto does! All I’m saying.” Kuroo warned, he dropped the conversation finally noting the way Kenma’s frown looked almost painful behind his scarf. Kenma dropped himself onto his seat on the train leaning up against the window to be just an inch further away from his friend's body. Kuroo finally hushed himself on the subject, instead to discuss the upcoming tournament that was a few weeks away. Kenma half-heartedly listened to what was said.

...

Lazily, Kenma dragged himself off the van. Even though the tournament was held in Tokyo, and the drive for Nekoma wasn’t even half an hour, Kenma was especially tired. Following after Kuroo to grab his bag his attention was pulled to the memorable colors, black white and gold for Fukurodani. The girls’ team wore the same uniform as the boys of course, all but the bottoms being exchanged for short spandex.

“Get your jaw off the ground.” Kuroo joked, tossing Kenma’s duffel bag haphazardly. Kenma blushed lightly before snapping at the captain.

“My mouth was closed!” He said, pulling the strap of his bad over his shoulder with a huff. His eyes scanned over your uniform, taking note of the way the muscles you grew from volleyball were complimented nicely by the clothes. He also noticed you happened to have the same type of knee guards as Bokuto. Long, coming up to consume half of your thighs, and half of your calves. Your legs were long, he noticed, a shiver crawling up his back.

Your brown skin under the morning light was lovely, the way the sun's rays absorbed into your skin. He glanced up to your face, saving the best for last, your hair was different today. It was braided up in a way he hadn’t seen before, long and pulled back into a high pony tail. He liked that you switched up your style, even if this is only the second time he’s ever seen you. Kenma would have kept staring if he hadn’t seen the way you turned to face him head on. Kenma flinched, snapping his eyes up to meet yours. Your eyes were on him already, tentatively you smiled and waved at him. Kenma raised his hand to wave back but it was awkward and shaky. Kuroo was stood next to him now, waving back at you. The two of them watched as you were scolded by your coach.

“L/N! We’re over here...”

“Sorry!’’ You squeaked snapping your neck to face them head on. Kenma couldn’t fight the small smile that sneaked onto his lips, but he quickly pulled his lips into a tight line when Kuroo bent down to stare blankly into Kenma’s eyes. He snorted lightly before patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Let’s go Kyannma!”

Your eyes shifted over to Kenma as his team walked away into the venue. Your team arrived only a few minutes before the boys from your school and your coach wanted to wait to walk in together as a statement. The captain and vice-captains would walk in the front, some type of intimidation tactic. It would have also included the Aces but, Bokuto was the ace and captain while you were the ace and vice-captain. So, it works out nice.

You stood next to your captain, Haku, who sported a short bob with pins to keep her bangs out of her face. She was tall, strong, and had great leadership skills. You admired her a lot. The same way you admired Bokuto. He was strong, fun, and although he was an unconventional leader his team was so in sync because of him. You laughed as his catchphrase spilled from the open doors of the boys’ van.

“Hey! Hey!! HEY!!!” He shouted, jumping from the van and rushing towards the back to grab his bag. You smiled and waved to Akaashi as he sauntered after Bokuto, hot on his heels. The two of them passed out all the bags before coming to greet the girls’ team properly.

“You ready Bokkun? Akaashi?” You asked your friends.

“More than ready! Right Akaashi?!”

“Of course, Bokuto-san.”

The three of you smiled amongst yourself before Haku joined and the four of you lead your teams into the venue. To your left, you glanced to Shiratorizawa, you were considering going to that school but plans changed when your mom convinced your dad to take you all to the city rather than the countryside that is Miyagi. You were glad, Ushiwaka was intimidating but you found Tendou seemed to be fun from what you saw at their games. Across from them was Aoba Johsai, their uniforms were cute and bright you thought to yourself. Their captain extremely talented, but a bit childish.

Further down the hall, there was Date Tech across from Karasuno. You knew Date Tech had a strong block; you were glad you didn’t have to go up against that yourself. You’re sure you’d quit after getting blocked by Aone one too many times. He seemed to be sizing up the ace of Karasuno, both seemed intimidating however the bun-head from the crows seemed a lot more approachable you thought.

“Bokuto-san!!!”

“My student!”

You and Haku exchanged a confused glance before looking down to the small, but pleasingly energetic ginger before you. Hinata Shoyo. You heard his name a few times back during that dinner celebration. Turns out he’s superfast and his jump can rival that of any player here. They mingled only a moment before the starting setter from Karasuno snatched the boy back to where he was meant to be. You giggled at the sight of the two bickering before Haku caught your attention.

“This way, L/N.” You nodded before turning back to Bokuto and Akaashi.

“Come watch me play when you can! A-and bring the other two.” You stammered before jogging off with your team. Akaashi nodded in agreement before glancing down the hall to where Kenma and Kuroo stood huddled with their team. He gave a small smile to no one in particular before rounding on Bokuto once more, all the teams heading into the large gym to warm up.

The girls' games were later in the day while the boys were first. You were glad both Fukurodani and Nekoma were kind of in the same area, easy to see both teams play.

You watched Bokuto and Akaashi hundreds of times, often joining the boys extra weekend practices so you could learn from the two of them. They gave you a surge of confidence, you were fidgeting in your seat anxious to get on the court and play yourself. However, today, for the first time Nekoma also had your attention.

Kenma’s movements were minimal but precise, never taking any extra step that he didn’t need to. He was refined in a way, much like Akaashi, but you think it’s more so to preserve his energy rather than solely to be precise and accurate for the ace like Akaashi. You chuckled at the idea.

You smile at how softly he’d send the ball to his hitters, even when a first year, extremely tall, couldn’t quite get the hang of things at first. You were thoroughly entertained by both games, and happy to see both win and move on to their next game after a break.

As their second games were just about to wrap up your team was pulled to start warming up. You felt giddy. Across from that gym, into a much smaller one you noticed, your team took their place and began their drills. As you waited to run up for the ball and practice your spikes you jumped in place warming up your thigh muscles for the work.

Your serves were great as usual, your arm snapping towards the ball with as much force as you could give and they always landed right where you wanted. You grinned from ear to ear, and as your game was about to start, you quickly looked around the stands. Your eyes scanned through the sea of faces before they landed on Bokuto’s unique hair, and next to him Akaashi  on one side and Kuroo on the other. And next to him... The real reason you were in high spirits. Kozume. He had his team jacket zipped all the way up to his chin, and when you two made eye contact you adored the way he tucked his mouth into the jackets collar. You gave the four of them a small wave before being forcefully tugged into a team huddle. Haku shoving your head down into the huddle to keep your attention.

Kuroo chortled at the sight while Bokuto sized up your competition. Akaashi smiled at you before speaking.

“L/N-san is a strong player but easily distracted, much like Bokuto-san.” He explained with a fond look in his eyes. Kenma watched him before sliding his feline eyes back to your huddle just as you all were breaking. Somehow, he could hear your voice outside of all others across the court. The four boys settling in as the game came to a start. Your team had the ball, and to give them a proper welcome you were up to serve.

You bounced the ball a few times before bringing it up to your forehead, eyes closing as you calmed yourself and got into the zone.

“Don’t think of anyone or anything else, just the ball and where you want it to land.” You whispered to yourself.

You gave the ball a high toss, while the other watched how it rolled in the air, Kenma focused on your approach. He perked up as he noticed you were going for a jump serve. The way you muscles rippled underneath your skin as you went for the jump, your braids floating behind you, and finally, your toned arm coming forward to smack the ball where it needed to go. Kenma knew exactly where you were sending it before you even hit, right to the middle of the back row that was foolishly unguarded. With a loud, THWAP, the ball was sent to the wooden floor right before the white line. It was in bounds and perfect.

“Yahoo!” Bokuto cheered, drawing a lot of attention. Kenma applauded your first service ace a prideful smile hidden behind his jacket’s collar. Kuroo cheered with Bokuto while Akaashi stood and clapped for you. You gave them a proud thumbs up before giving another service ace, before your planned third was finally received by the libero of the other team.

As the game continued on, your opponent's put up a good fight. However, it just wasn’t enough in comparison. Your strength, your libero’s speed, your captain’s intellect and technique. It was a losing battle from the first service ace, with the final score being 2-1. You hopped around in celebration, hugging your teammates tight before regaining your composure to shake the losing team's hand.

Kenma could get used to this sight he thought. Watching you crush volleyball players left and right. He learned from Bokuto that you wanted to go pro like him, he nodded at the information. That sounds nice for you. He wished he could learn things about you straight from your own mouth, and not from Akaashi or Bo. But it wasn’t so bad. At least he’s learning something.

He sighed to himself before the four of them stood to meet you downstairs. They found you taking a sip from your water bottle and drying your forehead of sweat with a hand towel. You sighed, nodding to a teammate as she informed you of your next match in a few hours. As she walked away your eyes caught onto a familiar blonde.

You fanned your face with your hand to further cool your skin before meeting the boys halfway.

“Hi you guys! Did you have fun watching me do my thing?” You asked cheerfully, your eyes lingering on Kenma in particular. He nodded in response, a quiet ‘mhm’ humming from his lips.

You were praised by the rest of them, a wide smile on your face as you listened to the feedback. Kenma stared intensely, his pupils dilated the way a cats would at the sight of a laser pointer. That’s the way his eyes always were when they were stuck on you.

“Bokkun, my form getting better?” You asked, suddenly sounding more serious than you were a moment ago. Just as he was about to respond, Akaashi cut in.

“Bokuto-san. I’ll go find a restaurant for dinner.” Bokuto nodded before returning his attention to you. The contents of the conversation lost in the growing crowd as Kuroo and Kenma walked with Akaashi.

...

“The whole crew made it!” Bokuto celebrated as he jumped from his seat at the table to cheer more actively, he jostled everyone's drink, Kenma sprang into action to save his phone from a splash from his cup. You chuckled at the sight before turning to Bokuto and refocusing his excitement to the fresh gyoza on his plate.

But it was true what he said, Nekoma and the boys' and girls' teams from Fukurodani made it through the first day of the tournament. You’d hope you’d all make it to the end, it seemed like a more feasible feat for the others though. You were a little insecure in your abilities, that was the main reason why you looked up to Bokuto so much. He had confidence, but he also had experience with low points as well and his team helped him bounce back from it so seamlessly. You wouldn’t show it but as happy and lighthearted you seemed on the surface, inside you were an anxious type. You loved volleyball so much, it gave you comfort but the spotlight also snuffed a bit of the warmth the game lit in your heart.

You, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi clinked your glasses against each other in cheers, while Kenma lazily held his up from his seat not going through the effort to reach towards the rest of you. He once again was sat across from you, eyes glued to his phone. Before he placed his cup back onto the table you tapped your glass on his gently, shooting him a playful wink when his eyes snapped to yours. A faint blush tinted his cheeks.

“Kozume-san? Are you happy your team won today?” You asked, kinda of expecting his lack luster response.

“I-I guess, I expected as much...” He replied sheepishly, eyes bouncing around the table, landing on everything but you. You exhaled through your nose before glancing between the screen on his phone and back up to him.

“You seem to like video games more than volleyball though.” You observed nodding toward the game flappy bird on his phone. He tilted his phone upward to obscure your view before he spoke.

“I like both.” A slight pout manifested on his features.

“Well... I brought a few of my own games in my bag if you want to play later?” You asked, looking between the other three boys as they all awaited Kenma’s response.

“Sure...”

You noticed the way his lips curled upward into the faintest of smiles before he neutralized his face once again, you smiled fondly at him before taking a sip of your drink, eyes glossing over him over the top of your glass.

“Good.”

[casualneonglitterpainterposts]

A watercolour portrait of Michael I did last night 😊❤🎃🔪

Mostly drew this to practice drawing his hair a bit more curlier, also especially since I'm gonna be drawing him more in my comic I'm working on (I plan on starting to properly sketch it out today since I got the thumbnails done on Friday).

[nruto]

did u make the picrews of ur ocs o_o

i did not! but here's some from when i first made them :)

in order: arwin, matsu, idris, matsu (past life?? idk), matsu (present), and akira

arwin i haven't rlly changed his appearance much i've mostly just been focusing on developing his actual character but i did make his and idris' eye color the same #siblings

hiro i accidentally drew the eye scar on the wrong side once so. yeah. heehee. i also got rid of the eyepatch idk and probably the wings depending on what i might do for a story/setting. i also changed his hairstyle so it's mostly even all around but still long. oh and some more moles

idris same as arwin mostly just character developing but idk if i should keep his hairstyle...

matsu's a lot newer in relation to basically everyone else so rlly the only thing i might change is just. make him look more human? like eyes and stuff

akira i gave curlier hair and diff colors just more fun w that and he's much more !!! than the picrew there her personality went through a lot of changes she was originally a lot like idris but i think i'm gonna make them kinda different but still. idk they are both rowdy just in different senses ig

[angel-archivist]

a lot of jon,, listening to tma just compelled me to draw him more and more

pls note each time i drew him as his hair got curlier it was completely on accident lmao

jonwearingskirtsjonwearingskirtsjonwe

this one was,, based on ur whoosh on i saw it and went o h ? mayhaps i will

sorry this is a long one (i don’t rly do podcasts that often and needed my hands to do something)

AHHHHHH jon...so many jons.... so much serotonin iNSTANTLy presented to me... oh mygod have i told you how much i adore your style??? like LEGIT????  jons hair is just.. ASHWSUIFHHDGF anyway im gay thank you for these...

[lovingonrepeat]

hi! could you tell me who your biases are and what makes them stand out to you? love ur works btw :))

Hello!! Thanks for loving my writing! Ooh ok I never pass up an opportunity to talk about my biases!!! I’m not totally sure if you mean just NCT/WayV biases, or just biases in general, so I think I’m gonna just ramble and talk about all the biases I have that I can think of!

YUTA: NCT

Yuta is my ultimate bias, and this man has my full heart! I will be frank in saying that what originally got me into seeing NCT was seeing Yuta for the first time. There is just something so magnetic about Yuta without even knowing who he is, and he just gets better and better the more you learn about him. He’s kind, he’s woke, he’s gentle. He speaks his mind and isn’t afraid. His voice is angelic and his dancing has this slightly huddled frame to it that makes his distinct when he’s dancing that you can immediately pick him out of the crowd, even with 17 other people dancing around him in Black on Black. He’s funny, he’s charismatic and has the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. He has such a beautiful mind and I genuinely enjoy everything that he has to say. And he is one of the most chaotic people but also can be very subdued and blend into the scene if he feels like he needs to. There’s just so many layers to this man that makes me love him but that’s just some of the ways.

TEN: NCT/WayV

Ten is another bias of mine. He is HILARIOUS while also being very open-minded and intelligent, and let me just say I love his random little British accent. His dancing is ethereal and magnetic and there’s just something about him that draws your eye to him and there’s not really much of a way to look away. His drawing skills are pretty unreal and I love how he can go from serious to crackhead in an instant. Also he has these nice, dainty features that are just so pretty. There’s just something about him that’s distinctly Ten.

JENO: NCT Dream

Jeno is just a gentle soul. He has a very strong stage presence in seeming super fierce in stages like Boom, but he’s really just a big softie. The way his eyes scrunch when he smiles is just so cute and adorable, and it really explains his entire personality in one look. He’s just so soft and cute all the time and I love him, ok?

If you were just referencing NCT, then those are my biases! If you meant of all the groups I stan, more under the cut. :)

Minhyuk: Monsta X

Minhyuk is so unique. His mind works in a way that’s very much his own and I love getting glimpses into it. The way that he jams out to BigBang and G-Dragon never fail to put a smile on my face. He has this uneven blink where one eye closes and opens at a different speed than the other eye, and it’s so cute and unique and something that is distinct to him. His voice is soft and light and pretty but then we hear it on Misbehave and you see just how much range he has to switch from a low range that we never hear from him to a falsetto high range in the second prechorus that is his signature. There’s just so much range in this man, and he was one of the first ones to stick out to me when I got into him with his white Shine Forever hair.

SUGA: BTS

Yoongi is one of the smartest idols out there, and I truly believe that. He has so many layers to him and honestly it's pretty amazing. I love his softness that contrasts with his hard exterior, and I love that it's something that blends over into his daily life and it's not just a stage persona. He puts so much thought in everything he creates but also doesn't see it as a burden and does it all with a smile on his face and with McDonalds to fuel him while he holes up in his studio. There's something so precious about him, and his gummy smile is everything.

JENNIE: BLACKPINK

First of all, she's just gorgeous. Let's start there. But Jennie is so cute and soft and it contrasts her stage prescence in the perfect way, but not in a way of that she's putting on a show. You can see the true Jennie shine through in stages like As If It's Your Last, where she's all smiley and cheery and happy, and then she just adds a layer of fierceness on top of that when she does songs like Kill This Love or How You Like That. It's just this package that she has that makes me really love her and feel like she's straight up authentic. And also i love her voice, whether singing or rapping or just talking her voice is super pretty to listen to.

YEJI: ITZY

I'll be honest in not knowing much about Itzy as a whole in terms of their personalities, but something about Yeji really drew me in. She has this amazing dance style and you can really tell that she's just in her element whenever she's on stage. Everything about her just screams that it was made to perform and I think that's hella sexy lol. Also she has the most beautiful eyes and a smile that can light up an entire room, plus gorgeous hair that she really should wear out more lol.

YUQI: (G)I-DLE

Yuqi is just sort of perfect, I feel like. She holds this balance between adorable and badass at the same time, and she just exudes so much confidence. She has this mischievous energy to her, and she's chaotic which I love. She has these big bright eyes that are just amazing that I love and I love the curlier texture of her hair. Plus, her dancing is super amazing and her lower voice is SEXY AS ALL HELL.

SOLAR: MAMAMOO

As a whole, I love how unapologetically themselves Mamamoo always is, but Solar in particular is someone who stands out to me. She's small and has a tiny frame but such a huge and powerful voice and I love that. She's always super smiley and the life of the party that I feel like Mamamoo would not be the same without her. She's the type of person who will get up and start kickboxing Eric Nam in the middle of her K:CONTACT interview, and who will post a video showing off different razors, and will DO A POLE DANCE AT MAMA, and I just love that. There's no one she's trying to be but herself, and she doesn't care if that leaves you a little scandalized, because it's her and you're gonna take it or leave it.

I do have other biases (like Astro, ACE, Day6, Seventeen etc), but these are my main ones and the ones that I find myself going feral over the most lol. Thank you for this question I really really loved it!

[nicolewoo]

SCOTTISH KING

Summary: Drew McIntyre has returned to RAW, and it's Y/N's job to make him look great. Now if he can just stop ruining it......

Pairing: Drew Mcintyre x Reader

Warnings: Language, Erection

Working as a seamstress in the WWE was a hectic, sometimes stressful and wonderful job. My boss, Sandra Gray was amazing. She was strict and demanded near perfection, but she also praised more often than she corrected. I understood why. The ring attire HAD to be strong, stretchy, and often sparkly. One costume slip could ruin a wrestler's reputation and would surely get the company in trouble with cable networks. Sandra had earned my respect, as well as the respect of everyone at WWE. The longer I worked for her, the more responsibilities she gave me, and I loved it.

Being on the road is not always fun. It's often lonely and always exhausting. I thrived on the stress though. I always had.

So when Sandra came to me with a pile of black leather, a box of metal and a notebook of sizes and a design for a coat, I was more than happy to take on the challenge.

“Can you handle this for me?” She asked as I reviewed the rough sketches and materials.

I flipped through the book, “Absolutely,” I assured her.

“Normally I would handle this one myself, but I'm just too backed up tonight. Can you get this done by Friday?”

That was going to take up any free time I could carve out for myself, but again.... I'm a glutton for punishment. I thrived on stress, and I thrived on Sandra's praise. “Yeah. I should be able to do that.”

“I know it's a big project. If you need help, grab Henry.” That at least comforted me a bit.

I nodded in agreement and starting planning how to handle the project.

The notebook was labeled Talent: Drew McIntyre. Drew McIntyre? Drew.... yes.... I remember him. I wasn't even working here when he wrestled with the WWE, and my memory was hazy, but I was certain I'd recognize him when I saw him. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and googled the wrestler.

As the images loaded, I realized that yes, I knew Drew. I had liked his wrestling, well..... and those dimples... and eyes.... and chest..... and...... I liked watching him wrestle, but he just disappeared one day, and I hadn't seen nor heard of him since. As I studied the pictures of young Drew from his time in WWE in 2007, I realized I was going to like working on this project for all the wrong reasons. He was a handsome devil. BUT.... But I'm a professional. I can do this.

Putting my phone away, I got to work cutting the leather, matching the metal pieces to the sketch Sandra had done, putting together a floor length black leather coat dotted with spikes and other metal. It really was a HUGE project, but I was up to the task.

I got so wrapped up in the project, I was oblivious to the time. A member of the venue's security knocked on the door and told me they were closing. I wasn't really at a stopping point, but I didn't have a choice. One thing was for certain, I needed to meet with Drew for a couple of measurements. I'd shoot him a text in the morning.

I returned to my hotel room and crashed. I dreamed of a huge giant of a man with a smooth chest and straight long brown hair. I dreamed of hazel eyes and leather and metal spikes. I dreamed of his giant hands around my waist, over my breasts, cupping my ass. I woke suddenly knowing only 1 thing. I had to cum NOW. I had dreamed in so much detail, I was on the verge of a climax. I slid my hand to my clit, and no more than a minute later, I came hard and long.  Hmmmmm that was exactly what I needed. I rolled over and fell back to sleep.

Before even heading to the venue, I shot Drew a text.

“It's Y/N from wardrobe. I need a few measurements. Can you give me a few minutes of your time today?” I put my phone down, but immediately received a reply text.

“Yes. Where are you now?”

“Still at the hotel, but I can be at the venue in a half hour.”

“My day is completely booked up. The only time I have is now. Are you at the Regency?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Let's do this now. What's your room number?” I balked at the idea, but I knew the talent usually had busy days... especially with Drew returning to WWE. I'm sure he had press to do. I sent Drew my room number and pulled out the book with the measurements.

Drew knocked in a few minutes. That was fast. I opened the door to see the new Drew. This was not the gorgeous Scottish prince from 2007. What stood in front of me was a giant hulk of a MAN..... a king...... His black t-shirt barely containing his muscles. His hair seemed darker, curlier, and pulled back at the nape of his neck, and his voice was much deeper than I remembered. “I'm Drew” he said as a warm smile crossed his lips. Oh good golly. Just those 2 words set my whole body on fire. This man was pure sex appeal, and the dimples on his cheeks didn't help. I'm just wound up from the dream last night, I thought. Stay professional. I pleaded with myself.

“I'm Y/N. Sorry to add something to your day.” I said inviting him in. “You got here so fast, I didn't even have time to get my tape measure out.” I chuckled.

“I was stayin' just down the hall.” He admitted. “Where do you want me?” He asked.

In my bed! I thought. That's it... I was busted.... I had to have turned 18 shades of red, but if I did, Drew was nice enough not to let on. “Stand right where you are,” I answered as I fumbled for a pen and the tape measure.

It was then that I realized with anyone else, and anywhere but my hotel room, I would have asked the talent to take their shirt off, but given my mood, I decided to work around Drew's clothes. I got right to work measuring. I jotted down measurements and notes as I went along. Then I decided to have Drew try on the pieces that had already been assembled. He did and grimaced when his arm wouldn't fit in his sleeve.

“Who measured you?” I asked knowing I wasn't going to like the answer.

“I... I don't know. Some lad with red hair.” He grinned at me.

Henry! I thought. Oh good golly. Henry was fantastic at sewing but often measured wrong. Crap! I'm going to have to re-do all the measurements, and Drew is in a hurry. “Ok. I'm going to re-measure you.” I saw Drew sigh in frustration. I laid a hand on his arm reassuringly, and immediately regretted it. It was inappropriate and only fueled my lust. “I promise to be faster and better than Henry.”

He placated me with a nod, but I could tell by his eyes that he was frustrated. I felt the need to reassure him again but realized showing was better than saying. I went right to work. Now if I could only get my stomach to stop churning with every time my skin made contact with his........ Let's get this done right and quickly! I told myself.

It was a mere 5 minutes later when I finished, and I earned a raised eyebrow and a warm smile when I told him. “That was much faster.” He admitted.

“I aim to please.” I joked. “I'll call you probably tomorrow to come try on the assembled jacket.”

“I'll be sure to swing by to see you when I get to the venue.” He said. “Thanks for getting this done so fast, and for letting me come here for it. I know it's not the most professional place.” That smile was slowly melting me.

“No problem. I'll see you tomorrow.” As he left, I breathed a sigh of relief. That was done, and I didn't make a blubbering fool of myself despite the urge that bubbled up inside me.

Once set up in the venue, I quickly went to work. Sandra and I agreed that my time was best spent working on Drew's coat, so only the most pressing interruptions came to me.... A tear in some trunks, a zipper on a shirt... but most of my time was spent working on the coat. I had all of the leather assembled. Now I was just putting on the metal spikes while I waited for Drew to visit wardrobe tomorrow. With any luck, I'd have this project done early, and I'd be able to avoid Drew and those intoxicating looks in the future.

Each spike, chain and grommet I added was one step closer to being done with this.... with him? I knew that wasn't what I wanted, but it was what I needed. I needed to steer clear of this giant made of sex appeal, so I could concentrate on my profession. Relationships weren't in my schedule.

“Do you have time for me?” a soft gravely voice came from behind me. I turned to find that Drew looming over me.

“I.... I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.” I said. “I thought you were booked up for today.”

“The interview I did was shorter than expected.” Gah... how could this giant sound so soft and gentle? It was unnerving. If only he was rough and tough, I could dismiss him as a jerk, but instead, he practically whispered when he talked, and his head dipped slightly as if he was trying to hide how tall and big he was. He was more of a gentle teddy bear than a man who could force-ably take anything he wanted. As the thought ran through my head, so did my dream from last night. His giant hands, his soft hair, his hazel/gray eyes. I dug my fingernails into my palm to stop my daydream.

I untangled the coat from the sewing machine. “Are you ready to try it on?” I asked holding the jacket up to help him try it on.

Instead of going for the jacket, he stopped to pull off his shirt. I gasped; loud enough for him to hear.

“Sorry. A hiccup.” I tried to cover. He didn't indicate if he knew the truth.

He bowed down a bit to slip one arm in the coat I held up, and a smile crept over his face. As his second arm slipped in, and we both knew it fit perfectly.

“Well done Y/N” Drew said as his hands ran over the jacket as if smoothing down the lapels of a suit. “And your adding metal studs?” he asked.

“Actually, we are doing a combination of different metals.” I reached for the booklet with the sketches and opened it for him to see.

“Did you design this?” His eyebrows lifted as he looked through the book.

His eyes met mine..... the gray, green mixture and his soft words were making me melt. Stay professional Y/N. “No. You can thank Sandra for the design.” I said.

“Oh,” he looked disappointed. He walked over to the full length mirror we'd leaned against the wall and admired the coat. “I was wonderin' if you could design some new trunks for me.” He didn't turn to see me, but I saw that he was looking through the mirror at me.

I tried my best not to blush, but I failed. I quickly turned to my work station and grabbed the notepad to cover. “I can do that.”

“Do you think YOU can measure me this time? It would save time.” He smirked which only made him look even better.

I realized I was holding my breath. I chuckled, “Yes, I can do that too.”

Drew checked his phone quickly, “I've got some press to do now.” He tucked his phone back in his pocket and put his shirt back on. “Can we meet in catering before the show to go over designs?” I thought I saw a bit of a smile on his face, but brushed it off. Most of these male stars knew how to flirt to get what they wanted. I'm sure Drew was no different.

“Name the time.” I said.

We agreed on 5 pm.

“I'll buy you dinner.” He winked at me. Ok, now he was outright flirting with me. Don't fall for it. I told myself.

“Dinner is free, you knucklehead.” I joked back.

“Aye,” He turned to look directly into my eyes, “But that's not my fault.” That smirk again....

It's just innocent flirting. I'm sure he's like this with all the girls.

“True. Ok. 5 pm in catering.”

“See you then.” I expected him to leave, but he looked into my eyes, and the smirk was gone. He looked almost hurt. I masked the quizzical look that almost crossed my face. Whatever game this guy is playing, I've got a job to do. I will remain professional.

I was so engrossed in making his jacket that I was losing track of time again. When the alarm on my phone went off at 4:45, I was jolted back to reality. Shit! Prepare for more flirting. I've got to stop this.

As I made my way to catering, I passed Natalia who had an issue with her new costume. I told her to meet me in an hour and continued on my way. It was a distraction that pulled my mind from what was going to happen in a few minutes. If today was any indication, Drew would flirt with me to get what he wanted. It pissed me off as much as it melted me. Where did he get off playing with my emotions? I was fuming in anger by the time I walked into catering.

Drew spotted me before I spotted him. By the time my eyes reached him, he looked contrite. I went through the dinner line and picked out my dinner before joining him at the table.

“Are you upset?” Drew asked as I sat down.

Cover our emotions. Don't let him know. “Just busy.” I replied. “Nattie just threw another repair on me for tonight.” I explained.

Drew must have realized I wasn't in the mood to play his game tonight. “If you need to handle her repair, this can wait until tomorrow.” He offered as he nodded at my book.

“No!” I blurted out. What the fuck, Y/N? Why didn't I want to get away from him? I'm starting to fall for his flirting. Snap out of it. “No. I can do both.” I assured him calmer this time.

A small smile warmed his face, and I couldn't help but feel more relaxed. I tried to look at my notebook as I opened it, but my eyes stayed on his a moment too long. Those beautiful eyes. Stop it! I screamed to myself.

I took a couple bites of my dinner as I sketched out three pairs of trunks. “What colors were you thinking of for your trunks?” I asked.

“Black.” He said it without any hint of his normal flirtation, but even the sound of his serious voice jolted through me like white hot fire. Shit!

“Just black?” I asked, “because if so, I'm done.” I chuckled nervously.

He chuckled back. “No. No. I want you to add some Celtic crosses.” He reached to his back pocket to grab his phone and quickly opened a few pictures of Celtic crosses.

As we started looking through the crosses, I started to relax. When I relaxed, he did too. I was completely focused now on designing his new trunks. We decided on a couple of different styles. Gold outline with a black Celtic cross, Red cross with gold background, and a Gold cross with a red circle on a red background. Then we discussed the way the cross would be laid out on the trunks and then onto the materials I would use. All of it was simple to me, but he seemed impressed.

“Listen, I know you've got a lot on your plate right now. I don't need these in a hurry.” Drew assured me.

“Well, Nattie's repair and your coat should be done tonight, so I'll have some time. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I should be able to have one pair done by tomorrow.” I assured him. “But I will need to measure you. Will you have time for that before the show?” I asked.

“If not, I'll come by during the show. I'm not on until later.”

And with that we were done. No matter how much I enjoyed his company, I still had work to do. “I'll catch you later then.” I said as I grabbed my tray and headed back to wardrobe.

I spent the next couple of hours doing repairs and working on Drew's coat. I was excited that I was getting closed to finishing.

“Are you ready for me?” I knew it was Drew. How a man his size could sneak up on me not once, but TWICE in the same day was a mystery.

“Actually, you've got perfect timing.” I turned around to see him bringing his coat with me. “I'm onto the very last details. Can you try this on for me again?” I asked and Drew smiled softly.

“Your wish is my command.” He flirted, and it worked. Every muscle in my groin twitched as he spoke and smiled at me.

Cover your emotions. I told myself. “Ok. Ok. Casanova.” I brushed off his flirtation. “I've got a job to do.” I said seriously, but I couldn't hide the tiny hint of a smile that played at the corners of my mouth. He looked so pleased to see it. “Try it on.” I told him.

He did, and we found that the coat was just a bit longer than he wanted. That was an easy fix.

“Let's get you measured.” I said professionally. “Are you wearing underwear?” I asked seriously.

He didn't answer right away, but lowered his head a bit and quirked an eyebrow up. “Excuse me?”

“Cut it out, Drew.” I said crossing my arms across my chest to show him I meant business. “I need to measure you, and I can't do it over your jeans. Surely, you've had to do this for other costume crews.”

A look of realization came over his face. “Oh, Yeah. Yeah. I'm wearing underwear.” Did he just blush?

He looked directly into my eyes as he reached to the button of his jeans, I couldn't help realizing just how perfectly they fit him. Dear golly! I wish all men wore their jeans like him. Stop it! I turned to get my tape measure and my notepad to avoid watching the extremely sexy man stripping.

Stay professional. Do your job. You've seen men in their underwear before. This is no different than any other fitting. Focus on your job.

When I turned back around, Drew was standing in just his t-shirt and his boxer briefs. The sight was enough to get me wet, but I focused on my work. I tried to pay attention to anything other than his body. This was quite possibly the most awkward I'd ever felt in my life, even though I'd measured plenty of men for trunks and pants.

It was just as I was measuring his inseam that my hand brushed against his balls and I dropped the measuring tape. FUCK! He pulled away from me slightly. There was no doubt that his penis hardened a bit at the touch. “I'm so sorry.” I apologized not even looking up at him and went back to my work.... trying not to think about the growing appendage in front of me.

It was then that he tentatively said, “Would now be a bad time to ask you out?”

I barely had time to even register the question when I heard “YES!” from across the room. It was Sandra, and she headed our way. “Highly inappropriate, and if you say anything else, I'll call HR.” She tapped my shoulder. “Take a break Y/N.”

I was relieved and confused. Did he just ask me out? Right after I brushed against his balls? I knew it was a terrible thing for him to do, but there was a part of me that wanted to say yes. I admit that this particular part was focused on his growing dick, but that doesn't make his question right. “Why don't you go take a walk?” She asked me. “Come back when you're ready.” I nodded in agreement, not sure what to say, and as I walked out, I heard Sandra start railing on Drew, “What the fuck were you thinking? This poor girl is just trying to do her job, and you come in here...” As the door shut, I couldn't hear her anymore.

Once I was in the hallway, I didn't know what to do. I stood there dumbfounded for a minute. Baily was the one who found me there.

“Hey girl, are you ok?” she asked.

It shook me out of my fog. “Yeah, Yeah... Sorry. I zoned out.” I said to her. I tried thinking on my feet, “I was just headed to the restroom.” I answered and headed there.

I entered a stall and latched the door behind me. I just stood there, trying to catch my breath. Did Drew McIntyre just ask me out? I admit there was a connection between us, but to ask me out THEN? RIGHT THEN? What the fuck was that? Why would he do that? What could he gain from asking me out then. Was he joking? Was he serious?

These questions and more swam through my head all night. I dreamed of a Scottish king who took what he wanted. I dreamed of him in a kilt with a broadsword swinging at invisible enemies. I dreamed of his breath on my neck, his hands in my hair, his body against mine. I dreamed of lustful looks and stolen kisses, of all encompassing passion. I dreamed of him making love to me.

I woke covered in sweat and out of breath. Again, I needed to cum. Fuck! I laid in bed, knowing what I wanted, what I needed. I closed my eyes as I slid my hand down and made myself cum to memories of my dreams. Good Grief! I hope I didn't run into Drew today. I needed to get him out of my head.

I arrived at the arena a few hours early. I was headed to wardrobe when I spotted Drew talking to Aleister Black in the hallway. He looked positively flustered when he spotted me. He put both his hands up as if surrendering and slowly walked up to me.

“I'm so sorry.” He hung his head. “I don't know what I was thinking.” He continued.

I wrapped my arms over my chest and huffed. “I know what I said was inappropriate. Well, the timing was. Can you forgive me?” he looked at me with big puppy dog eyes.

“Drew,” I started but I couldn't think of what to say. There was an awkward pause.

I could tell the silence was upsetting him. “Let's just...... Let's forget it.” I said. I didn't mean to, but my tone sounded angry.

He raised his head a bit in relief. “I......” He stopped, unsure how to continue.  “Can I just explain?”

The hanging of his head, the fidgeting as he talked, the fact that he obviously didn't know what to do with his hands.... in fact his normally controlled body language was replaced with uncertainty. He was vulnerable, and that struck me as pitiful.  “Yes.” I said after a deep breath.

He started to look around, “Can we go somewhere away from others?”

I motioned to the end of the hall. It wasn't private, but it was far enough away that nobody would hear us. I noticed Alistair watching us from where he stood in the hall, and I took comfort in knowing someone was there if this all went south.

Drew cleared his throat and fidgeted again, “I know what I said... well, when I said it was all wrong. The truth is, I was very uncomfortable. When you accidentally brushed against me, my body....” he searched for the right word. “Responded.” He looked down at me shyly. “I wasn't exactly in a position to hide it from you.” He outright blushed. “I...” He huffed out a breath. “From the minute I saw you, I was attracted to you. When you brushed against me, and my body.... responded, I just got all awkward, and I said the first thing that came to mind.” He looked down at the floor. “It was completely wrong of me, and I do offer you my sincerest apology.”

If strong, stoic Drew was attractive, vulnerable, sweet Drew was downright irresistible. “So, what are we going to do about this?” I asked.

Drew was quick to answer, “Sandra is going to handle the jacket and my trunks from now on.” He said, and I detected a hint of sadness in his voice. He looked down at the floor.

“Like hell she will!” I said, and he immediately looked up at me in surprise. “That coat is going to be my masterpiece!” A slight smile curved one side of his mouth as a look of hope started to dawn in his eyes. “I'll be damned if I'm going to let anyone else get credit for your coat. I meant what are we going to do about the fact that we are attracted to each other?”

He was dumbfounded. His eyes looked scared and hopeful. “Do you..... Umm.... Will you.... Do you want to go out with me?” he asked.

I kept my arms folded in front of me, “I'm interested in having a couple of more conversations with you.” I said brusquely, “If you think you can keep yourself from being an ass.” I let the corner of my mouth curve into a smirk.

It was then that he hit me with a full, panty dropping, smile. “I can try my best, lass, but you get me flustered.” He answered.

“Try your best?” I raised my eyebrows questioningly then broke into a laugh.

He raised a hand in a pledge, “I'll try my best.” He waited a second before asking, “Can I buy you dinner in catering tonight?”

“It's not buying dinner if the food is free,” I teased.

He laughed heartily and the low grumble of it vibrated through my core. “5 o'clock?” He dipped his head in a nod.

“Sounds great.” I agreed. There was a momentary awkwardness as we tried to figure out how to end this talk.

“I'll see you at 5, princess.” He said gently, and I swear everything in me melted at the pet name.

As soon as I walked into wardrobe, Sandra descended on me like a vulture. “Drew is going to give you an official apology tonight. I'll be sure to be right by you for it.” She assured me.

“He already did.” I smiled.

She looked upset, “He did? He was supposed to come in here to apologize in front of me.”

“He ran into me on the way here. It's all worked out, but you're sweet to care so much.” I smiled.

“You're my best seamstress, and I won't have the talent treating you like a piece of meat. You deserve to be treated right!” Said like a true mama bear.

“Sandra, it's ok,” I chuckled. “I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself.” I smoothed my hand down her arm to assure her. “The fact that you came to my aid yesterday means the world to me. Thank you.” I said.

“Ok, ok.” She surrendered. “Did he do a good apology?” She questioned as she looked through a box of zippers.

I couldn't hide my smile. “Very good.”

The tone of my voice got her attention, “What did he say?” She prodded.

“That he was sorry. That it was an awkward moment and he said the first thing he could think of.” I thought about telling her that I'd brushed against him and he'd gotten hard, but decided mama bear would be furious if she knew that. “I'm positive he learned his lesson.” I assured her.

“Good.” She huffed and walked away.

I didn't lose track of time today. In fact, I checked the clock every 10 or 15 minutes until dinner time.

Drew was already seated when I got there, and I was 5 minutes early. I went through the dinner line and sat down across from Drew.

“I've got good news,” I chirped out in a sing song fashion.

His raised eyebrow asked before his words. “Yes?”

“Your coat is done!” I said triumphantly.

He chuckled at my tone, “Is it now? Pretty proud of yourself, aren't ya?”

“Well, after our conversation yesterday, I made some changes to Sandra's design to better reflect you.”

Now both of his eyebrows raised up, “Did ya now?”

I raised my chin strongly, “I think you're going to love it.” I said confidently.

“Well, lets swing by wardrobe after dinner and see.” He teased. “I'm sure I'm going to love it,” he said more seriously.

We sat and ate and ignored the looks on other's faces as we dined. We talked about our childhoods and jobs that led us to the WWE, and before I knew it, dinner time was done and we headed to wardrobe.

As we walked in together, I noticed Sandra saw us. She took a protective mama bear stance, and turned the sewing form so she could keep her eyes on us as she worked.

I handed the leather coat to Drew, and he gratefully accepted. “Let's see what you've been up to.” He joked. He stood in front of the full length mirror and began to unfold the coat. He glimpsed it before even putting his jacket on. His fingers ran over the embroidery. I had placed a small silver Celtic knots on both lapels of the coat. “They're beautiful.” He said in awe. “You did this today?” He asked as he put the coat on.

As we looked at how the coat fit him, he ran his hands over the knots again. “I love it,” He smiled.

I let a hint of mischievousness cross my face, “Wait. There's more.” I walked over to my work station and dug through the projects I was working on. I came back with the first pair of trunks for Drew. “These are meant to go specifically with the coat.” I handed them to him.

He gently unfolded the trunks and a giant smile erupted on his face as he saw the Celtic crosses on the sides and the giant Celtic knot I'd embroidered on the back. He looked almost stunned, “You did this?” I smiled, and I nodded which made him smile more. “That was so sweet.”

“Try them on,” I pointed to the makeshift changing area. He happily obliged.

When he walked out, everyone in wardrobe stopped. The trunks, the coat, the giant hulk of a man.... There was a confidence about him that was lacking in his street clothes. This time I didn't cover my gasp.... neither did Henry. (I heard him from across the room. )

“Take your hair down,” I heard Sandra say as she handed him a water bottle. He let down his hair, opened the bottle and poured a bit over his hair. Not as much as he normally would if he was going in the ring, but enough to get the full effect. He strode over to the mirror confidently and a rough, gravely growl emerged from him when he saw his reflection. He stood taller. He walked like a warrior. His muscles bulged.

“It's perfect!” Henry chimed from across the room.

Sandra placed her hand on my shoulder as she looked at my work. “It is,” she agreed. “You outdid yourself, Y/N.” She patted me gently.

“It is.” Drew gruffed out. The compliment sounded odd coming from the Celtic Warrior who stood in front of me.

I beamed with pride as Sandra began inspecting my work and found it to be flawless. “But don't ever alter my designs without my permission again.” Her voice took on a more professional tone.

I giggled and agreed. Everyone got back to work, leaving me in front of the mirror with Drew. He seemed like a whole other man in his full gear, which, I guess, was the best compliment. He was giant, daunting and incredibly sexy.

In the mirror, his eyes shifted to me. “Thank you!” I blushed at his words. We stood there a moment longer, looking at each other. Suddenly, his arms shifted and he pulled the coat closed in front of him. Just before it closed, I looked down to his trunks and figured out why. That made me blush even more.

“Why don't you change back into your street clothes?” I offered, pretending I hadn't seen his erection.

“Oh no!” He smirked. “I'm wearing this tonight unless you have to work on them more.”

I wasn't prepared for that, but he did have a match soon, so it made sense. I shook my head no.  “I am going to go get ready then.” He said. “Are you going with us to Cincinnati tonight?” he asked.

“Yes.” I answered, getting excited at what he'd say next.

“Can we have breakfast tomorrow?” He tilted his head slightly to the side; causing him to look more like the sweet man I met yesterday than the Celtic Warrior he looked like in his gear.

“Mmmhmm” I nodded yes.

“I'll call you around 9 am then.” He said gently and grabbed my hand. He slowly brought my hand to his lips and brushed his lips across my knuckles gently. “Tonight's win is for you.” He said, and he walked out.

As I sat back down to my sewing machine, I noticed the impressed look on Henry's face and the curious look on Sandra's face.

#drew mcintyre #wwe #wwe smut #drew mcintyre x reader #wwe fic #fic

[lokisgame]

Opposites

[part 1]

Mulder followed her to the kitchen, taking in the room. Usually meticulously tidy, now looking like a scene of a slumber party. The couch was pulled out, pillows on the floor around it. Crayons and sheets of paper littered the coffee table while plush Marvin the Martian was wrestling Duffy Duck in the middle of it.

"They were supposed to stay with mom, but she had some emergency at the community center and called me when I was on my way home, to pick them up from the airport." Scully explained, taking two mugs from the cupboard and pouring the coffee from the paper cups into them. She handed one to Mulder and suddenly remembered the pancakes.

"Oh dear!" Hastily cranking down the burner, she prodded the pancake, not yet burned luckily, and sighed, relieved, noticing something else too ad looked up, looking sheepishly. "I should probably get dressed."  

Mulder set down the coffee and took the spatula from her. "Go, I'll keep an eye on this."

Stirring the pancake, a motion caught his eye and he saw the little girl standing 6 feet from him, hugging her toys, and watching him carefully.

"Hi," he smiled his warmest smile and suddenly noticed the resemblance. Pretty, round face, same bright blue eyes, though her hair was lighter and curlier. Emily. If only an echo, and like that, everything became clear. He knelt on one knee to look less threatening. "What is your name?"

"Claire," she spoke shyly, hugging her martian tighter.

"Well, Claire, I'm Mulder, you want to see a magic trick?" She nodded and smiled, finally.

Mulder went back to the frying pan and swallowed hard, it was ages since he did this but he told himself it was like riding a bike. He shook the pan a bit, making sure nothing was sticking and held his breath. One, two, three! The pancake leaped into the air, did a perfect backflip to  land precisely in the middle of the pan, ready side up and sizzling. The little girl giggled and he smiled at her, 10 points from the judges.

Her dad came into the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, ruffling her hair in passing.

"Sorry about earlier," he grinned reaching out, "Charlie Scully."

"Fox Mulder." They shook hands, the man's grip firm and friendly.

"I know, Dana spoke about you, she wanted you to have lunch with us." The kid came back and tugged at his hand, reaching, drawing in one hand. He picked her up and tickled her tummy, "this is Claire."

"We met already." Mulder smiled and glanced at the pan, then slipped the pancake of it into a waiting plate and poured the batter for another one, and that was probably the full extent of his culinary knowledge, but they didn't have to know that.

"I drew a spaceship!" She grinned, showing him the drawing of a wonky lens-like object with blue and red dots al over it.

"Nice, what planet is it from?" Mulder asked, totally serious.

"Mars!" she declared, showing her mascot, "home of Marvin, the Martian!"

"She's crazy about Looney Tunes." Charlie turned to the girl and tickled her again, doing a pretty good Bugs Bunny impression, "Eee.. what's cookin' Doc?" She laughed and tried to escape his arms.

"Yeah, how's the cookin' Doc." Scully appeared, looking over his shoulder.

"All good." Mulder laughed, moving the spatula out of her reach.

"Show aunt Dana the magic trick!" Claire chimed in.

"Yeah, show Dana the magic trick, Mulder." Charlie grinned, bouncing the little girl.

"What magic trick?" Scully sounded genuinely curious so there was no going back.

Offering a little prayer to the kitchen gods, Mulder checked the pancake, stirred it a little and felt his own hands shake. This was the real deal, he rocked the cake back and forth and went for the gold. Claire gasped when the pancake went airborne and clapped her hands once it landed safely in the pan; Scully laughed with her.

"Okay, I think you got this." She patted his back and Mulder, for once, felt like a gold medalist.

"Now that's real skill," Charlie teased before turning to his little girl. "What is this? Why aren't you dressed young lady? Look, I'm dressed, aunt Dana is dressed, and you?"

"I like my pj's." She said, defiant. The crease between her eyebrows was apparently part of Scully family genetic makeup.

"C'mon, let's find you something we'll both like instead." He said and took her out of the kitchen. Passing Scully, he whispered something into her ear, earning a cluck of her tongue and an elbow below the ribs.

Claire helped her dad make the bed, though her attempts at starting a pillow fight were thwarted.

Scully busied herself around the kitchen, making fresh coffee and toast, setting the table. The cutlery clinked, the plates clanked, the refrigerator doors slammed. Sometimes she stopped beside him, sipping coffee he brought, smiling.

His sweatshirt gone in the heat of battle was replaced by a sensible apron. Mulder was slipping the last pancake off the pan, when Scully appeared again, raw bacon in hands.

"You can burn this," she joked but her next words were sincere. "Thanks for helping me."

"Don't thank me," he said taking the bacon and cranking the burner to max, "it's me who's crashing the party."

"Right, you wanted something," she leaned on the counter, finishing her coffee.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"Positive." The doorbell rang.

"Right on time." Scully grinned and followed her brother to the door.

Mulder stayed in the kitchen, trying to make sense of his feelings. This was a different Scully, one he only saw glimpses of. She was always composed, professional, rarely showing her playful side. She tolerated his jokes, even made fun of him from time to time, but this undiluted happiness, her care for the ones she loved, it disarmed him. He watched the family reunion like Scrooge looking in through the window on Christmas Eve. Maggie hugging both her kids, kissing her granddaughter's cheeks, until she saw the piece that didn't fit.

"Fox!" She said, surprised and, to his surprise, delighted. He earned a hug as well. "It's good to see you again."

"Hi mrs Scully," he gave back the hug, if awkwardly.

"Oh, she roped you into cooking, let me." Maggie tried to bump him out of his post by the pan, but he didn't budge.

"It's okay, I got this." Mulder chuckled.

"He can do magic tricks, Grandma." Claire piped up making Charlie and Scully laugh.

"Come on mom, sit down," Charlie pulled her away, "let the man finish what he started."

Maggie took the head of the table, with Dana on her right and Charlie on her left, Claire beside him, sipping her orange juice.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't pick you up yesterday."

"It's okay, Dana gave us a proper welcome."

"I'll say this again, you can stay if you want."

"Dana, there's more than enough room at my house," Maggie scolded, "and besides, they're staying the week and you've got a job."

"She could take the time off." Mulder chimed in, from his spot by the stove.

"Mulder!" Scully protested, her contrary side rearing it's pretty head.

"Just saying." He shrugged, flipping the bacon with a pair of tongs.

"Anyway," Charlie laughed and poured the coffee. "We're here, ready to go sightseeing and do all the tourist stuff we always laughed about."

"You have a list?" Scully laughed, taking the full mug.

"Sure I do," he replied, unfazed, "I'll show you later."

"I've never really went sightseeing, since we moved here." She admitted, sheepishly.

"You didn't?" Mulder sounded surprised, she knew so much about the city.

"I mean, we've been to the Smithsonian a few times, but I never seen the museum itself for example. I've seen the Washington Monument and all the other memorials, but I've never been to the botanic gardens or the Air and Space Museum."

"You've got so much catching up to do, dear sister." Charlie looked up, and grinned at Mulder, "and you, are going with us. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Mulder laughed, moving the bacon to a plate laid out with paper napkins and sitting down next to Scully.

"If there's something life has taught me, it's that there's no point in arguing with the Scullys."

"You got that right."

"What? We argue all the time."

"Hush," Charlie said, taking the bacon. "So we do the standard tour from Monday and do the..."

"Museum?" Scully filled the blank he made cautiously.

"The Air and Space Museum today." He turned to Claire, placing a couple of pancakes on her plate. "You'll see real space ships."

"From Mars?" Everyone laughed,

"We'll see sweetie, we'll see." Charlie kissed the top of her head warmly.

[summerohnine]

someday

warnings: implied sexual content, alcohol mentions

word count: 1.4k

summary: jamaica, 2010.

a/n: written for @phandomficfests bingo fest!!

[read on ao3]

The setting sun cast a heavenly glow over Dan's skin, his face lighting up as he laughed at something someone had said. Phil wasn't really paying attention to the conversation, too caught up in studying his boyfriend's features in the light. Phil could feel the vibrations of Dan's laughter travel through his body, all the way down to the hand Phil clung to.

Phil really just wanted to be alone with Dan right now, but the other's insisted the boys join them for dinner and drinks.

"Can't we just stay here tonight?" Phil had asked earlier from the bed as he watched Dan pull on his shirt, long hair falling forward into his face.

Dan looked over at him, smiling but shaking his head. "I'm afraid we actually have to socialize, Phil."

Phil stuck his bottom lip out dramatically. "I don't like socializing. I just wanna spend time with you."

Dan chuckled and made his way over to Phil, motioning for Phil to move over so he could wrap his arms around him. Phil continued to pout and placed his chin on Dan's shoulder. "I know, but it's our last night here. Don't you think we should spend time with the others? We probably won't see most of them for a while after tomorrow." Dan rubbed small circles on Phil's back as he spoke.

"I guess you're right," Phil said. Dan pulled away from Phil's embrace and stood up, extending a hand for Phil. Phil took it and let Dan lead him out of their room.

Phil supposed that joining the others hadn't been such a terrible idea. Sure, he still felt a bit shy and awkward whenever he joined in on the conversation, but everyone was pretty cool and he was alright with just listening. Not to mention he got to watch Dan be the happiest Phil had seen him in a while. He seemed so relaxed, so unbothered.

Even if this trip had ended up being a total disaster (it definitely hadn't, but even so), it still would've been worth it just to see Dan smile the way he was now, nose scrunched up and eyes crinkled in the corners as he laughed thunderously. The alcohol made him flushed and free as he tugged Phil up from the chair, insisting they go dance. And maybe sober Phil would have said no, would have been too embarrassed to get up on his two left feet and sway with his boyfriend.

But a mix of the sangria and the intoxicating look on Dan's face compelled him to say yes, to let Dan pull him away from the patio onto the white-sand beach.

The chatter from their friends up by the bar faded away to a distant murmur as they got closer to the water. Dan stopped suddenly and turned to face Phil, not saying anything as he guided Phil's hands to his waist and wrapped his own around Phil's neck. They were close enough that Phil could smell the alcohol on Dan's breath. He leaned his forehead against Dan's and placed a gentle kiss to his lips.

Dan moved his head to rest on Phil's shoulder, lips pressed to the skin exposed at the wide neck of Phil's shirt. Phil closed his eyes as they swayed to the music he could hardly hear, just basking in Dan's warmth.

"I'm really glad we got to come here," Dan whispered after a while, lips moving against Phil's neck.

"Me too."  Phil looked out over the water, watching as the sun made its last appearance before dipping fully into the ocean. Stars had begun to pop up in the sky, causing Phil to stare up in awe. He never got to see this many stars at home, the sky too polluted with light from Manchester for anything to really shine through.

Sometimes Phil forgot just how magnificent the night sky really was. The amount he could see from home only showed a fraction of what was really there and it was never something Phil had found very interesting. Now that he could see them in their full glory, he couldn't look away. There were so many, and they were all so bright.

Normally, looking at something as big as the night sky would make Phil feel small, inferior and unimportant. But, standing here with Dan, it was the complete opposite. Being with Dan made him feel like he was on top of the world, and looking at the stars made him feel like they were floating with them.

"Phil?" Dan asked softly, pulling Phil out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

Dan moved to look Phil in the eyes, quirking his head to the side. "What are you thinking about?"

Phil smiled slightly and pecked Dan's nose, causing him to giggle. "Everything."

----------

Phil came out of the bathroom to find Dan wrapped up in the pristine white sheets, a smile playing on his lips as he watched Phil move towards him. The sheets were pulled down to expose Dan's bare chest, his skin a shade or two darker than it had been when they arrived in Jamaica a week ago.

Phil crawled onto the bed and placed his knees on either side of Dan's hips, taking his face in both of his hands and leaning down. Dan sat up a bit to catch Phil's lips in a soft kiss.

"Hi," Dan said when they pulled away, Phil's hands still encasing his cheeks. The look in Dan's eyes held such intensity, they bore directly through Phil's eyes and into his bones.

"Hi," Phil muttered, eyes trailing back down to Dan's lips. Dan came forward again, pulling Phil into a more heated kiss. Their lips moved against one another with such familiarity, Phil taking Dan's bottom lip between his teeth with practiced perfection that elicited a sharp intake of breath from Dan.

Dan's fingers found their way to the hem of Phil's shirt, resting on the skin above his waistband for a moment before tugging the shirt over his head and throwing it to the ground, reconnecting their kiss as soon as it was gone.

Dan pulled Phil down with him as he scooted down the bed to lay down completely. Phil disconnected their lips as he hovered over Dan, staring down at him. His lips were red and puffy, and Phil was sure his looked the same, if not worse. A blush spread down Dan's face and neck, chest heaving. A layer of sweat was already forming on Dan's skin, caused by a mix of the humidity and Phil's body heat.

He looked absolutely beautiful.

"I love you."

Dan smiled, nodding slightly. "I love you, too."

----------

A little while later, they lay awake in bed, the only light coming from the moon shining through the open curtains. Phil ran his fingers through Dan's hair which he hadn't bothered to straighten at all that day and had only become curlier in the last hour. The only thing Phil could hear other than their own breathing was the gentle crashing of waves from the beach just outside the window.

"I wish every day could be like this," Dan said into the darkness, fingertips trailing through the light hair on Phil's chest.

Phil did, too. Not necessarily did he wish they could just live on this resort in Jamaica and slow dance on the beach every night (although he wouldn't be against that), just that they could live so freely and enjoy each other in the way they did today. He wished they didn't have to live with the distance that separated them so often or deal with disapproving family members who just didn't "get" them. What was there to get?

"Someday," Phil whispered, although he wasn't sure if he was talking more to Dan or himself.

"Tell me about someday." Dan sounded so broken, as if he was looking for something, anything, to hold onto. He needed to hear about "someday" so he had something to wait for. He needed a reason to keep going, and it broke Phil's heart.

"Someday, we won't have to travel three hours on a train to see each other." Dan pushed himself up to look at Phil, a pained look on his face. Phil sat up and took him in his arms. "Someday, we'll live in a shitty apartment together, somewhere with a view of the city. We'll wake up next to each other and I'll make fun of your morning breath." Dan chuckled slightly at that. Phil smiled down at Dan and drew his arms tighter around him.

"Can we get a dog?"

Phil laughed and kissed the top of Dan's head. "Of course we can. But, first, we have to travel the world together."

"The world's a pretty big place, Phil."

"And I wanna see it all with you."

reblogs/comments are appreciated!!

[whynotcallitvanda]

A Question of Identity

Title: A Question of Identity

For: @concretegrrl

Rating: G

Word Count: 4370

Warnings: None

Summary: While on the run after the events of Civil War, Wanda begins to feel like she’s losing herself. Luckily, she has a wonderful boyfriend who can try to help her feel better. Written for the prompt “I would love a fic that focuses on Vision learning more about Wanda’s Sokovian/Romani heritage, either from Wanda or on his own. Bonus points for fluff!”

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16045862

Message for recipient: Hi, Kait! I loved the prompt, I thought it was so interesting and I really hope I did it justice. It was really fun to write, so thank you! I tried my best to do research, and based the food on Czech cuisine because in one of the movies Sokovia is shown to border the Czech Republic. I hope I get the fluff bonus points, and I hope you like it!

A Question of Identity

Vision tied off the end of Wanda’s braid and passed it over her shoulder to indicate that he was finished with it.

Wanda moved out of her spot between his legs and turned to face him on the bed, curling her feet under her. “Thanks, babe.” She pressed a kiss onto his lips, fingers worrying distractedly at the bleach-damaged ends of her hair.

“You are quite welcome.” Vision smiled at her, but Wanda wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead she was gazing pensively at one of the hotel room’s four large mirrors. She’d seemed preoccupied ever since she asked him to braid her hair, and at first, he hadn’t been sure, but now he thought he might know what was bothering her.

“Is everything alright, Wanda?” Vision asked, cocking his head to the side and studying her further.

“Yeah, why?” Wanda didn’t turn her head, but she did make eye contact with him in the mirror.

“You continue to seem . . . dissatisfied with your hair,” Vision said carefully.

Wanda snorted, shoving the unnaturally orange braid over her shoulder where she couldn’t play with it. “Nat said I’ll get used to the color.”

“It’s been six months.”

Wanda finally faced him, wearing that small, slightly-annoyed smile that she got whenever he pointed out any of her logical fallacies. “But I wasn’t a redhead for all of that time.”

That was true enough. She cycled between various shades of blonde and red—never anything too dark, nothing too close to her natural brown. He thought they were all beautiful, of course, but Wanda only got more and more frustrated with each new look.

“I miss my hair.” Wanda sighed. She’d gone back to staring at the mirror. “Maybe it’s vain, I don’t know, but I always loved my hair.” She chuckled a little. “When I was a girl, I wanted it to be so long. As long as I could grow it. Long, and dark, and curly, like my mother’s. Hers was beautiful—curlier than mine, and I’m probably remembering it longer than it actually was, but I thought she had more hair than I’d ever seen in my life.”

Vision felt his chest constrict at the thought of just how much she was sharing with him. She’d shared so much over the course of their relationship, but he always selfishly wanted to know more. “And your father? Was his similar?”

Wanda shook her head, blinking, and part of Vision felt guilty for her tears, but another part of him recognized that this was just the way she remembered, with small details and glistening eyes.

“No,” she answered finally. “Well, sort of. His was dark—we all had dark hair—me, my parents, Pietro when he didn’t dye it, even my grandparents from the pictures I remember. But my father’s wasn’t curly like—” her voice broke, signaling to Vision that this was enough, the conversation had gone too far.

He reached out, drew her into his arms, and held her. She cried quietly into his chest. The tears for her parents were usually silent, like these, tamed by years of hiding them from her ever-present twin. The ones for Pietro were wild and forceful and found her in the middle of the night, so strong that she’d wake the next morning more physically exhausted than the night before.

Vision had seen many kinds of Wanda’s tears, and he hated—hated, something he’d once thought himself incapable of—he hated them more than almost anything.

Wanda sniffed and sat up, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. Vision recognized this as well. It was her ‘get ahold of yourself’ face. He kissed her cheek.

She stood, facing the mirror once more, hands crossed over her chest. “I understand why dyeing it is necessary. I can’t look like me because I can’t be me, especially since we’re already taking a risk meeting like we do.” Wanda took a deep breath, waving one hand in a sweeping gesture.  “I just miss feeling like myself.”

Vision reached forward and gently grabbed the arm that wasn’t pressed against her stomach. He took her hand, still unused to the feeling of her bare, ringless fingers. “Is there anything I can do to help in that regard?”

Wanda smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. “You’re doing it, Vizh. Being with you is about the only thing that keeps me from completely losing myself.”

Still, as Vision embarked on the long journey back to the United States the next day, he wished there was something more he could do for her.

Vision sat stock still, the way that unnerved most people with its inhumanness. He could’ve gone through the motions of breathing, shifting in his seat, blinking, and glancing around, but he was alone, here in Wanda’s old room, so there wasn’t anyone else to consider.

He usually tried to stay away from Wanda’s bedroom, both because he wished to ensure his connection to her remained as inconspicuous as possible, and because something about it felt oddly invasive. He could still hear the echoes of “Knock, Vizh!” and though he knew he no longer had to worry about walking in on her naked, being alone somewhere so intrinsically tied to Wanda without her knowledge or consent didn’t appeal to his sense of propriety.

Today, however, that essence of Wanda was exactly what he was trying to capture. He’d given a lot of thought to her feelings of losing herself and had come to the conclusion that he had to do something about it.

It was honestly no wonder Wanda was feeling frustrated. On the run like she was, she couldn’t look like herself, she couldn’t sound like herself, she couldn’t dress like herself, she couldn’t be herself. One’s identity is tied to one’s appearance, as Vision himself learned when he set about developing his human disguise.

But this wasn’t about him. It was about Wanda.

The first step, naturally, was to figure out exactly what made Wanda feel like herself. After that, he could attempt to integrate those elements into her fugitive life in a way that wouldn’t put her in danger.

Vision closed his eyes and thought about Wanda. He thought about her smile, her laugh, the many different looks in her eyes. He visualized her fingers dancing through the air, the light of her own scarlet power glinting off her rings. The way she hummed when she was preoccupied, and the slight furrowing of her brow whenever Mr. Stark said something obnoxious. 

The way she talked of her home, of the years before the bomb, of her mother teaching her to cook and her father teaching her to dance, of Pietro impish pranks and her grandmother's pet cat. 

The flash of scarlet in her eyes when she mentions the Sokovian civil war, or the communists, or the Nazis. How civil unrest stole her grandfather from her long before it took her parents. Living on the streets, stealing to survive, barely feeling any shame for it, and the shame she feels now, years later. The sad fondness that overtakes her whenever Pietro's overprotectiveness would come up, and the fierce anger at any implication that Sokovia wasn't worth the effort, that rebuilding it was a waste, that maybe this would teach that backward nation a lesson. 

Wanda loved her country, despite everything, and ultimately, she'd given up everything for it. The struggle to make Sokovia a better place had taken her parents, her home, then her freedom, her humanity, and if that wasn't enough, it took her brother, too. 

And she still loved her country, and she still saw it as part of her identity, inseparable from herself. 

Vision opened his eyes. 

He knew what he needed to do.

Vision walked the streets of Novi Grad, clad in his human disguise, doing his best to blend in. He hadn’t seen Novi Grad before Ultron, so he had no firsthand knowledge of the city as Wanda had known it, however before this trip he did as much researching as he could. He wanted to be able to recognize the differences as Wanda would see them, if she was ever able to come back here.

A part of him felt bad for coming without her. She occasionally spoke about bringing him, to show him a place from her childhood, only to remember that it had probably been destroyed along with everything else. Unfortunately, however, if he wanted to get the information he needed, a trip to Novi Grad was the only way, short of asking Wanda herself, which would of course ruin the surprise.

Vision headed away from the city center. According to his research, the best place to glimpse true Sokovian culture was on the outskirts of the city where the damage had been lighter. After the Ultron crisis, nations from all over the world had banded together to rebuild Sokovia, and so far, things were looking up for its citizens. They even had a budding tourist economy based around the battle with Ultron.

That was all well and good, but Vision wasn’t sure Wanda would appreciate a Tony Stark bobblehead that was likely made in China.

After only twenty minutes of walking, he found himself in a much more residential area. There was a bakery to his right, flanked by a brewery on one side and a pharmacy on the other. People were out and about—not as many as he’d seen in other part of the city, but enough to imply that this was a well-traveled area.

He supposed there was nothing else for it except to attempt to strike up a conversation with someone. That was why he was here, after all, but he was suddenly rather nervous.

He scanned the people he saw, deciding eventually to approach one of the men, aware that a strange, foreign man walking up to a woman on the street usually indicated sinister motives. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten someone.

“Excuse me, sir?” he said in accented Sokovian. He was capable of speaking the language perfectly, but for the part he was playing, he needed to seem like an outsider.

The man looked up, distrust evident in his eyes. It appeared that there really weren’t many visitors in this part of town. “Yes?”

“I was wondering about Sokovian culture,” Vision said as smoothly as he could in his accented voice. “Do you know where I could get that information?”

The man’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that kind of query. “That’s a broad topic.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Vision conceded.

“Are you a professor or something?” the man asked, still carefully appraising him.

“No, nothing like that.” Vision shook his head, belatedly realizing that would have been an excellent cover story. “See, my girlfriend is from Novi Grad, she had to move after the incident, and—” he explained the predicament, and exactly what he was trying to accomplish.

“Oh.” The man paused. “Huh. Well, I’d check out the bakery. Katinka, the girl who works there, she can tell you a lot, and if she can’t, then her grandmother will be able to.” He looked Vision up and down a final time. “Just don’t interfere with business, and I’m sure they will help you.”

Vision looked in the direction the man indicated. “Thank you very much, sir. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” The man walked off, shaking his head.

Vision entered the bakery hesitantly. He didn’t want to detract from business, but generally avoided buying or eating food, as a rule. The bakery was currently empty, however, so he didn’t feel quite as bad about taking up the woman’s time.

She was behind the counter, busy wrapping up various pastries and breads. “Can I help you?” she asked, glancing up.

Vision briefly explained his goals once again. The woman put down her parcels of food.

“Wow. That’s so sweet.” She smiled. “I’d be happy to help! My name is Katinka.”

“Victor,” Vision said smoothly, using the alias he’d adopted for visiting Wanda.

“Nice to meet you, Victor.” Katinka leaned in conspiringly. “I’m really not supposed to do this—my grandmother would kill me if she found out—but I can give you our family recipes, if you want.”

Vision nodded so enthusiastically he began to feel dizzy. “That would be wonderful!”

“Okay, well, the first thing you do is—” Katinka stopped. “Oh, do you need to write this down?”

“I will remember,” Vision said confidently.

Katinka looked skeptical, but didn’t argue with him. “All right. The first thing you do is . . .”

Vision did remember Katinka’s instructions. He remembered them in the same vivid detail that he remembered everything else that had ever happened to him. That wouldn’t be of any help to him, however, if the dough continued to be uncooperative.

He should’ve practiced.

After leaving Katinka’s bakery full of confidence and gratitude, he’d managed to track down the other people she’d suggested, her grandmother and uncle. They were all very helpful, and Vision had thought that everything was going wonderfully. The cabbage soup was simmering, he’d successfully fried the topinky bread (though he was concerned about the large amount of garlic Katinka had told him to use), and the schnitzel was far easier than he’d expected after Katinka’s grandmother’s demonstration.

The trouble came, however, when he tried to make the buchty for dessert. The sweet dumpling, as Katinka had explained, was usually filled with a fruit confit, but he hadn’t even gotten started on that yet, because the dough was just not working!

The consistency was all wrong. Perhaps it needed some more flour? Vision turned, grabbing the bag of flour with one hand, but his other hand was covered in sticky bits of dough. He tried to gently shake it off, and when that didn’t work, scraped his fingers on the edge of the bowl. It only occurred to him later that if he’d simply phased his hand and let the dough fall off, he could’ve avoided what happened next.

In his frustration with the dough, he involuntarily squeezed the open bag of flour in his other hand, causing a puff of the white powder to envelop his face. This in turn, surprised him so much that the bag slipped from his fingers and hit the ground, spilling flour all over the floor. Vision stood frozen in the mess, filled with the overwhelming urge to laugh at his misfortune. Before he could decide on the appropriate response, however, he heard the sounds of the front door opening.

Wanda was home.

"Vizh?" Wanda opened the door to her small Edinburgh apartment, trying to push down her budding excitement. "Is that you?" She knew it was him, she could sense his mind from blocks away, but he wasn't supposed to be here for another week. 

"Wanda?" Vision's voice came from around the corner, and the slight panic in his mind made her pause in the door. "You're back earlier than—” He appeared in front of her, phasing through part of the wall. He took a deep breath like he was steading himself and smiled at her. "Hello.”

"Hi." Wanda held back a giggle and threw her arms around his neck. "What are you doing here?" she murmured into the fabric of his sweater. She pulled back, her brain finally registering the rest of his attire. "And why are you wearing an apron? Are you cooking?"

"I—well," Vision rubbed the back of his neck. "I was trying to—"

"To cook for me?" Wanda interrupted excitedly, beaming. 

Vision nodded, looking down. "Certain things didn't work the way I anticipated, plus you arrived early, so—"

"Can I help?" Wanda interrupted again. "Or not, if you would rather this be one of those things you do for me by yourself."

"Your aid would be much appreciated."

Wanda grinned, throwing her arms around him again. "You're the best, you know that?"

"You’ve yet to see the kitchen," Vision deflected.

"What did you do to the kitchen?" Wanda pushed past him into the other room, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her.

She froze in the door, staring, her mouth falling open.

There was flour all over the place, the floor, the cabinets, the counter, plus a glob of some kind of dough on the wall that Vision had phased through. She figured that the mess was one of the things that Vision hadn't anticipated, but she barely noticed any of it. She was too caught up in what assaulted the rest of her senses.

Vision shifted uncomfortably, misinterpreting her silence. He stepped forward to pick up the bag of flour. "I apologize for the mess. I was—"

"What’s that smell, Vizh?" Wanda's shoulders were tense, and she knew Vision could see it, and she knew she should reassure him that she wasn't upset, but the scent of those spices and the sight of those ingredients were bringing tears to her eyes and the last thing she wanted was for him to think he made her cry when he was such a sweetheart for attempting to do this in the first place.

Vision clearly didn't know what to do, eyes flicking from Wanda to the kitchen and back again. “Uh, well, I made topinky, cabbage soup, and schnitzel. I was attempting buchty, but as you can see, that didn’t go according to plan.”

Wanda whirled around to face him, throwing herself in his arms for the third time. "I love you," she breathed, unable to come up with any other coherent thought. “I love you so much.”

Vision stiffened, arms still around Wanda, but there was no hesitation in his words. "I love you, too, Wanda."

Wanda kissed him, staying in his arms for as long as she could before she had to pull away. "Why—I mean, what made you decide to—" she waved her hand helplessly at the counter. 

Vision looked uncomfortable again. "You seemed like you could use a taste of home."

Wanda smiled, tears pricking her eyes again. "Thank you, Vizh."

“Of course.”

Wanda examined Vision’s first batch of dough. “I hate to say it, babe, but this seems unsalvageable.”

Vision nodded. “I figured as much.” He crouched down and began sweeping the spilled flour into piles with his hands.

“You know that I can get all of that?” Wanda snapped her fingers, letting out a spark of red. “If you’d like.”

“Be my guest.” Vision stood, giving her a ‘go ahead’ gesture.

She smiled, setting down the bowl. This would be harder than most things she manipulated, but if she could extract a cloud of gas from a building, she could clean up a little flour.

A sweep of her hands and few flicks of her fingers, and delicate wisps of red were plucking at the grains of flour, gathering them together into a dust-cloud in the middle of the room. When she was sure she had it all, she sent it flying into the trash can, closing the lid with a satisfying clang.

Wanda turned to Vision, grinning. “Nothing to it.”

“It would appear not.” Vision smiled back at her, and then hesitated like there was something else he wanted to say.

“Yes?” Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was going to wait to give these to you,” Vision reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small bag. Wanda recognized it instantly, and her eyes widened. “I thought that there wouldn’t be any harm in rescuing a few of your belongings from the compound. These seemed small enough to go unnoticed.”

Wanda stumbled forward and took the bag from him, fingers trembling as she undid the drawstring and let the contents tumble into her hand. It was her rings, all of them, the ones she’d been wearing when she’d been arrested and the ones she’d left in her room. She put them on immediately, and then laughed, pulling them off again.

“Is everything all right?” Vision asked nervously.

“Yes, don’t worry.” Wanda pressed a kiss onto his lips. “I just can’t cook with all the rings on.”

“Oh, right.” Vision looked embarrassed, and Wanda giggled. He gestured to the ingredients on the counter. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely.”

Cooking was much more enjoyable when Wanda was there to help. It frustrated Vision no end that he couldn't seem to master it, but Wanda's assurances that even many humans are terrible cooks did somewhat mollify him. The food turned out delicious, according to Wanda. He declined to have any so that Wanda would have plenty of leftovers for the rest of the week, but she did make him try a taste of each dish, and he had to admit that the palate was unlike anything he’d tried before.

Vision dried the last of the dishes as Wanda arranged the leftovers in the fridge, humming to herself. Vision figured this was as good a time as any to bring up the next item on his agenda. 

"Wanda?"

"Hmm?" Her head was still in the tiny fridge, shoving things around.

"What song is that? You hum it often."

"Oh." Wanda straightened, letting the fridge door swing shut. "Uh, just something my dad used to listen to. An old Sokovian folk song. I don't really remember the words."

"Would you like to hear it?" Vision asked, producing a small CD player from where he’d stashed it in the cabinet.

"What?" Wanda cocked her head to the side. "There's no way that you—"

Vision pressed play. 

The familiar melody filled the air. Vision was impressed at how well Wanda had been reproducing it after all these years. 

She was silent while the song played, but she didn't try to stop the tears from falling this time. 

Vision paused the CD before the next track could play, the anxious knot in his stomach now a familiar sensation. 

"How did you do that?" Wanda breathed, "Where did you—"

"There was an old street performer in Novi Grad. He claimed to play nearly forgotten music, so I asked him about the song you always sing. It took some time, but he finally figured out which one I meant. He made a CD with that song, and others he thought you might know, and—" Vision reached into the cabinet again, fumbling slightly. Wanda twirled her fingers, and took the CD player from him with a few curls of scarlet, freeing his hands. "And he wrote down the sheet music, so you can learn to play them, if you want. I would have gotten you an instrument—I know you used to play guitar—but I wasn't sure what would be the most appropriate—"

"Vizh." Wanda said quietly, still balancing the CD player with her powers. "I'm so confused. Why did—How—When did you go to Novi Grad?”

The frustration in her voice and the tears still lingering on her face made Vision rapidly rethink his plan. Unfortunately, it was far too late to turn back now.

"Well, I guess—" He stumbled over the words. "Can we go sit down, and I'll explain?"

Wanda nodded, pulling the CD player towards her and cradling it to her chest as she followed him to the couch. 

Vision waited until she was sitting comfortably with her feet curled under her, facing him. She was still clutching the CD player, but Vision took that as a good sign. He templed his fingers in his lap, staring down at them.

"I guess the simplest explanation is that I wanted you to know that you didn't have to completely give up your identity—whether that's your culture, or your personality, or anything else about you—just because you're a fugitive. You can still interact with all of these aspects that make you feel like yourself," Vision explained quietly. “So, I took a trip to Novi Grad to see if I could find something to help you feel better. I met a very nice woman who taught me to bake. Her grandmother taught me to cook, and her uncle was the street performer I mentioned.”

Wanda let out a breath. "Vizh, that's—I—" She broke off helplessly, holding out a hand towards his head. "Can I—?”

"Of course."  Vision leaned closer, always welcoming a stronger connection with her, especially when she was articulating complicated emotions. 

A few drops of red crossed the distance between her fingertips and his forehead, and then he was hit with a wave of warmth, and love, and gratitude, and just a hint of unworthiness, all jumbled together with confusion that anyone would go to all this trouble for her. 

"It's not silly," Vision said immediately, picking up on the errant thought that she had been making a fuss over nothing. "There's nothing silly or inconsequential about your feelings, Wanda." He could tell she didn't quite believe him, or thought he didn't quite understand what she meant, so he persisted. "You think that your feelings of losing your identity were unfounded and ridiculous, and that's simply not the case."

Wanda shrugged, looking away. "I guess, but they certainly weren't worth all this."

"Of course they were," Vision insisted, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his lips. "Darling, you're the one who's always telling me that my feelings are valid, no matter what they are, and I want to show you that yours are as well."

Wanda was crying again. She pulled one of her hands back to swipe at her cheeks, and Vision reached out to cradle her face between his hands, wiping the tears away for her. "I apologize if this was too much. I don't think I've quite got the hang of what is an appropriate gesture. I just want you to know that—as you always tell me—whatever you're feeling is important to me. I want to do what I can to make you happy. Always."

Wanda bit her lip, nodding, and then pulled him close for a kiss. She didn't have the words to thank him, but she made sure that, through both her thoughts and her kisses, Vision knew exactly what he meant to her. 

[linneastarron]

Since my old laptop is dead and it’ll be another 2 days before I get a new one, I decided to go through traditional works! Dates and explanations below~ --- First Image: Seedos with and without his mask, then holding a plant, 16 January 2018. To be honest, I drew this bc I was rlly thinking about the past and all I could think about was my fave character from Viva Piñata.

Second Image: Seedos Headcanon Concept, 22-23 January 2018. The scar on his chest was from a fight he got in with Dastardos in my old AU (I hadn’t decided ages but age-wise it didn’t really make sense with the canon information) where Seedos initially confronted Stardos/Dastardos about something or whatever and they got into a fight that got physical and resulted in a wound straight to Seedos’s/Sidos’s chest (it was before he changed his name I think???). He ended up fine and was rushed to a doctor but... it was whack lol. Also in the image he was written as 19 years old and 5′8″ while now I currently headcanon him as 18 and 5′7″.

Third Image: Dastardos Headcanon Concept, 23-24 January 2018. You know, I completely disregarded canon with this one, mainly because of his scar pattern on his arm. In-game it’s stripes/rings around his arms and fingers, while in mine he has non-patterned curly scars running from his shoulder to his fingers. After this I got rid of the scars and I made his hair curlier/messier like his brother’s. I did keep the eye scar, the weird eyes, and the gashes by the mouth though. In this photo he is written as 24 years old and 5′10″, while now I headcanon him as 25 years old and 5′11″.

Fourth Image: Flora Concept Art, 29-31 January 2018. My baby!!! It feels like forever since I came up with her. I do miss the leaf anklets I gave her but it just wasn’t practical (granted her outfit isn’t practical now either but at least I gave her shoes). It’s funny because I remember spending hours on her mask, figuring out how to shape it, and I eventually landed on the design we all know now. She didn’t have a last name at the time, but I knew she would be Hispanic at least. Originally I wrote her as 18 years old and 5′5″, but currently she is 19 years old and 5′6″.

Fifth Image: Flora and Seedos First “Ship” Art, 02 and 05-06 February 2018. The second I designed Flora, I had a weird idea in my head. Flora liked flowers, and Seedos liked (obviously) seeds. Seeds make plants, so maybe the two would be friends? I did end up going a step further and making them possible lovers, but I never fleshed it out back then. It was more of a silly concept than an actual ship. Funny enough, I used to headcanon that she would (surprisingly) have interest in DASTARDOS (don’t ask, I genuinely don’t recall the reason), but I eventually scrapped the idea and stuck with Seedos because it just made more sense.

Sixth Image: Flora’s Mom Concept Design, 21 May 2018. I loved making her!!! I knew Flora’s mother had a major impact in her life (even if not necessarily good), and I wanted to design a mother who looked feminine yet also very stern. At the time she didn’t have a name (I referred to her as “Ms. Bolívar”), but currently her name is Ismeralda Bolívar and she is 39 years old. I still have some more to develop, but I’m planning on writing a story for it.

Seventh (and Final) Image: Flora and Seedos Wedding, 16-17 and 19 June 2018. Tbh I had NO reason to draw this other than the fact that I was SO into the idea that Flora/Seedos would totally happen given the conditions that they would cross paths. This would happen years in the future, and I feel that despite Seedos seeming very antisocial and alien to the idea of romance, as they get older Flora opens him up to the idea and they may never marry, but Flora would like to dream of it happening (and tbh so would I. Imagine the plant-themed wedding!!! Very aesthetic). The text pointing to Flora reads “almost in tears b/c of joy” and the text pointing to Seedos says “uncomfortable in his suit but otherwise fine”. --- Sooo yeah that was my old traditional art!!! Expect more in a day or two because I can’t work digitally ;w;