#i really wish I had natural freckles

[hgfictionwriter]

High Definition

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie travels a lot and if she can’t have you with her, she wants the next best thing, some high def photos and videos of you. Jessie gets carried away as she starts to build her collection.

Warning: Smut. Masturbation, strapping, rough sex, mentions of breeding (sorry folks!). And language, of course.

A/N: LOVED this request. Thank you so much to whoever submitted it. Hope you all enjoy.

“Mmm.” You moaned into your kiss with Jessie as you ran your hands through her wavy hair. She moved a leg upwards, nudging yours further apart. You obliged with a small chuckle and wrapped them around her.

Jessie tilted her head and began kissing you deeper. Her hips subconsciously rolled against you as she felt herself growing wetter as you two carried on.

“How much do you love me?” Jessie asked between kisses, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

You kissed her again and caressed her cheek. “A lot. Why?”

“Enough to try something for me?” Jessie continued as she kissed along your jawline.

“Mmm, such as what?” You asked a smile in your voice.

Jessie pulled back enough to look you in your eyes. “I want to take pictures of you. And if you’re okay with it, I’d love to record you as well.”

You paused as you processed her request. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. She held your gaze as she awaited your response. You were about to open your mouth when she spoke up.

“I know that’s a big ask. But, I’m away so much it would be so amazing to have that kind of thing with me. I know privacy and security is probably a huge concern - I have a whole plan for how I can make sure I am the only one who ever, ever sees it. And if you ever want me to get rid of it, I’ll delete everything - no questions asked.”

“Jess.” You said her name as you thumbed her rosy cheek. “I trust you. I know you wouldn’t be flippant or careless about this.” You took a small breath. “Sure. Okay. Let’s do it.”

Her eyes lit up and a wide smile crossed her freckled face.

“For real?”

“Yeah,” you assured her, though you felt a blush start to form. “Now hurry up before I change my mind.”

“We don’t have to if-”

You held a finger up to her lips. “It’s okay, babe. I want to. But, you have to tell me what you want. I’ve never done this before.”

Jessie beamed again and she kissed you eagerly.

“Me neither. But I’ve thought about it more than I care to admit, so, don’t worry. I’ll direct you,” she finished with a wink.

“Okay, stud,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you playfully shoved against her shoulders.

Jessie began kissing you again and soon she had lifted your shirt over your head and discarded it. She sat back on her heels momentarily before hopping off of the bed and retrieving her phone.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” You asked, suddenly nervous and self-consciously wrapping an arm across your chest even though you still donned your bra.

“Don’t worry, you look stunning. Always,” Jessie assured you. “And honestly, if you feel uncomfortable and want to stop at any point. Just say so.”

“Okay,” you nodded. You let out a small breath. “I’m ready - what do you want?”

Jessie stood up on the bed, now towering over you phone in hand.

“Okay, put your arms behind you and lean back. Look up at me,” she instructed. You did as you were told. “Mm. You look gorgeous, baby. Okay, now tuck your legs under you - yeah, like that.” She took a couple more pictures.

“You’re a natural,” she said with a wink. “Okay, take your bra off.”

“Oh gosh,” you said though you took it off and tossed it aside. You instinctively cupped your breasts and looked up at her.

“Oh fuck,” Jessie said as she began taking more pictures. A shiver went through her as you bit your lip and pushed your breasts together. “That’s perfect.”

“Yeah? I wish they were your hands,” you told her with a smirk. She dropped down onto the bed and kissed you.

“All in good time,” she promised before sitting back. “Okay, can you lean back into the pillows this time? And, here,” she moved with you and leaned down, kissing your stomach, trailing kisses downward until she got to the waistband of your jeans. She gave your skin a short lick and she reached up to undo them until she could see your underwear. She smiled and sat back taking another photo.

“Kay.” She looked at you, studying you for a moment before continuing. “I want you to put your hand down your pants and touch yourself.”

You couldn’t help the short laugh that came from you and your cheeks began to burn.

“It’s okay, baby,” she told you soothingly. “I’ll help.” She climbed up your body and kissed you deeply as she laced your fingers together and brought your hand to your pants. She unlaced them and laid her hand on top of yours before guiding your hand under the band of your panties and exploring downward. She brought your hand to your clit and used your fingers to circle and then slip through your folds. You moaned and your head fell further back into the pillows.

“Just like that, baby,” she whispered as she pulled back and retrieved her phone once more. She chewed the inside of her lip as you spread your legs and slowly ground your hips up and down into your hand, your eyes closed. “Christ, you’re so hot,” Jessie praised as she took photos.

“Mmm, Jess,” you moaned, eyes still closed as you played with your clit and rolled your hips.

“Oh fuck, babe,” Jessie breathed, her own core pulsing with arousal now. She didn’t realize how her breathing had both quickened and deepened as she continued to photograph you.

“I need to see more of you,” she went on, lust heavy in her voice. You opened your eyes to look at her and she reached up and began shimmying your pants down your legs. “Mmm,” she voiced as she tossed them aside and leaned forward, her hands on your thighs as she kissed her way up towards your core. She could see how soaked your panties were and your scent was driving her wild.

“Mmm, Jess,” you repeated, your voice more desperate this time. You bit your lip at the growl she let out.

“I want to film you this time,” Jessie told you as sat back and held up her phone again. She didn’t hit record until she got a nod of affirmation out of you.

You dipped your fingers down through your wet folds again, tracing around your entrance before retreating back up to circle your clit.

“Jessie,” you breathed.

“Yes, baby girl,” she responded as she filmed you, her jaw slack as she watched you work.

“Do you know how wet you make me?”

Jessie grunted. “Let’s see, baby girl,” she said as she reached out with her free hand and moved your panties aside to see your slick entrance. “Fuck,” she breathed in reverence as she dipped two fingers inside, pulling a high moan out of you as your hips lifted to follow her fingers. “You’re so gorgeous.” Jessie’s jaw fell further as you pushed two fingers in alongside hers, stretching you out. “Oh my god,” she breathed.

It took concerted effort for Jessie to keep you in frame as her eyes were fixated on your core. She shook out her head and withdrew her fingers to tug at the waistband of your underwear.

“I want to see you fully,” she told you as she sat back to get your face into frame again. You gave her an impish smirk and lifted your hips off the mattress to remove your panties.

You traced your fingers through your folds once more, now totally exposed. “See what you do to me?” You asked.

Jessie groaned deep in her throat as you dipped your fingers back inside of you and withdrew them, your cum glistening on your fingers. The wet sounds that came from each movement had Jessie aching between her legs.

She continued to film you while you softly moaned as you played with your clit. It took concerted effort for Jessie to not start feeling herself up and relieve at least some of her tension.

She noticed you quickening your pace and ended the video, setting down her phone right away and walking over to her nightstand.

She grinned when you tilted your head to follow her with your gaze, but you didn’t slow or falter your movements. Your body slowly gyrated, hips rocking into your hand and head pushing into the pillows behind you as you continued to please yourself and watch her.

“Let me help you,” Jessie announced as she slipped on her harness. You gave her an appreciative look as she climbed back onto the bed and retrieved her phone once again. Your expression turned curious.

“Are you going to film this too?” You asked, your voice hitching as a jolt of pleasure went through you.

“If you’re okay with it,” Jessie answered as she reached down and overtook your fingers, rubbing your clit for you instead. You released a loud moan and you buried your head into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as she took over. She smirked. “I need a ‘yes’, baby.”

“Yes,” you nearly gasped, your hands urgently clutching the sheets as Jessie dipped a couple of fingers inside again. You moaned once more, but eventually managed to open your eyes to look at her. “How are you going to do it?”

Jessie curled her fingers inside of you as she withdrew before pushing them back in. She bit back a smile as you writhed under her touch. “As much as I’d love to see your face, I think I’ll have the most control if I’m behind you and you’re on your hands and knees.”

You laughed through a moan and gave her an affectionate look. “Most control in more ways than one.”

Jessie’s smirk turned a bit coy for a second before she shrugged and gave you a nod. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” She withdrew her fingers and sat back.

You returned her smirk as you rose up and turned over so you were on your knees in front of her. “You know I’ll enjoy it.” You looked over your shoulder at her. “Why don’t you set the phone up on a stand of some kind? I want footage, too, but of us, not just me.” Jessie blushed.

“That’ll be the next stage, and for another time,” she said. She knew it wasn’t fair that she was filming you and she, herself, not being on camera, but she was going to have to work her way up to that.

“Mmm,” Jessie hummed, momentarily distracted as she grabbed your ass and kneaded it with her hand. She started rocking against you, the strap rubbing your clit and sliding through your folds. “You ready?”

You dropped down onto your forearms, your back arching before her, and you shifted your hips back to meet her, grinding yourself on her strap. “I’m all yours.”

Jessie drew her bottom lip between her teeth, a wide smile tugged at her mouth. She held up her phone so her torso, the strap and you were in view.

“Okay, here we go.” She hit record.

She ran the strap up and down your slick folds a few more times, relishing the way you were sensually grinding against it.

“Look at how gorgeous you are,” Jessie said, mouth slightly agape as she took you in. She wasn’t really intending to speak during these videos, but she couldn’t help it. You brought it out of her and seeing you like this made her feel intoxicated.

“Mm, stop teasing me, babe. I want you inside,” you pleaded as your leaned your shoulders further down, your arms stretching out and palming the bed.

“Mm, fuck,” she voiced as she lined herself up at your entrance. “Anything for you, babe,”

She shifted her hips forward and watched as the strap slowly entered you. Your drawn out moan was like a siren call to her.

She laid a hand on your hip as she rest inside of you, the strap as deep as it could go. She waited a moment before slowly drawing her hips back until just the tip was stretching you out. She tilted the phone a bit to fully capture how you were stretched tight around her, your entrance gripping her as if urging her not to pull out.

“Mm. Can’t wait to show you how good you stretch for me. How full you are with me inside you,” Jessie said, her voice hoarse with lust. You let out a needy moan, turned on by her narration. Jessie’s jaw hitched as she saw you flex around her, trying to draw her back in.

“You are so sexy,” Jessie said as she sunk in again to the hilt, slightly faster this time. She reached forward and ran a hand along the curve of your back, waiting a moment before withdrawing once more.

She continued like this for several more strokes. Taking her time to appreciate the different views and angles as she pleasured you. You mewled as she patiently fucked you, clenching and releasing the covers as she painstakingly slowly helped you ascend your peak.

“You’re so wanting, baby,” Jessie teased, knowing fully well what you needed.

“Baby, please. I need more,” you whined as you pushed your hips back into her, urging her to go faster and harder.

“Hold on, Princess,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you cumming around my cock in no time.”

Jessie had really not been planning on this being part of the audio. But, hey, this is what sex was like with you two. She just had to be extremely sure this video never ever went beyond her own possession.

Jessie kneaded your ass again, grinding her teeth as she did so. She gripped you so hard your skin flashed white and then red when she released you. She wasn’t going to be able to hold back for much longer either.

She ran a hand along your side and leaned forward to cup your breast, massaging it in time with her slow strokes. She adored the way you arched your back, pushing your chest into her hand as she did so.

She pinched your nipple, drawing a gasp out of you before she leaned back once more. She watched on the screen as the strap pulled out of you, glistening with cum, before sliding back inside.

Jessie picked up her pace, and from the way your moans grew louder, you were more than ready. The sounds of her strap moving in and out of you filled the room and caused her to grow even wetter.

Your arms were outstretched in front of you, your head nearly resting on the bed and you began throwing your hips back to meet Jessie’s thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping against hers now accompanied the wet sounds of the strap penetrating you.

Lust started to really take over for Jessie now. Her pace increased even further and she was starting to lose control as she grew even more transfixed on you.

She gripped your hips with her free hand and shifted so she planted a foot next to you, now only on one knee and bringing her hips further forward. This new angle let her generate greater force and leverage each stroke and sink even deeper inside of you.

Sharp, high pitched moans fell from your lips with each renewed thrust and Jessie grunted from both exertion and arousal. You looked incredible bouncing back on her cock like this. A loud clap echoed through the room as she slapped your ass. You let out your most heady moan yet as you threw your head back.

Jessie didn’t waste her opportunity and she reached out and grabbed your hair, tugging your head back as she continue to rail you from behind.

Wild, unhinged moans rose from your throat as Jessie pulled at you and hammered herself inside of you.

“You like that, babe?” She asked through grit teeth. “You like when I make you mine like this?”

“Yes,” you managed to say, your voice breathy and high with need. “I love when you make me yours. You fill me and fuck me so good.”

“I love the way you groan for me,” Jessie grunted as she continued her relentless pace. The way you were taking her strap right now, the sounds you were making, the way you moved, everything, had Jessie teetering on the edge without you ever laying a finger on her.

“Fuck it,” she muttered as she dropped the phone onto the bed and released your hair to reach down with both hands and grab your wrists. She pulled your arms behind you and she leaned back again, pulling you with her, lifting you and suspending your upper body off the mattress as she continued to pound into you. Holding you like this anchored her to this spot and she fucked you senseless.

“You’re absolutely perfect. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel you around me. I’d never last.” She said, her voice shuddering with each movement.

“Oh god, Jess,” you moaned. “I wish you could cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” Jessie grunted, feeling a tidal wave of desire crash over her. She released your arms and wrapped her arms around your waist as she sat back on her heels, holding you now in her lap as she rut into you.

You reached down immediately to grip her forearms as you sought contact as she bounced you up and down on her cock. She reached down with one hand and began to rub your clit, drawing a cry out of you.

Jessie let out a light huff and kissed your back.

“Baby girl. You’re lucky I can’t cum inside you.”

You let out a small huff of your own, your head thrown back as you rode her.

“You act like I don’t want to be knocked up by you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie said through gritted teeth as she thrust into you harder. “You’re so sexy. Imagine how good you’d look carrying my baby.”

“Oh God, Jess,” you cried louder this time, your arousal dripping far beyond the strap by now and onto Jessie. “Give it to me. Give me your baby.”

Jessie let out a guttural moan and tilted you both forward, her cradling you until you were on your stomach on the bed, her still deep inside of you.

Before you could register anything further, Jessie pushed herself off of your back, planking over you, just the tip of her strap inside of you now. The next second her hips slammed down into you and she was soon thrusting into you repeatedly with an expert roll of her hips, sending unrelenting waves of pleasure through you with every stroke.

You cried as your orgasm swept over you. You clawed at the bed, your whole body writhing as your climax went through every fibre of you, from your toes to your fingertips, to your head. Jessie didn’t miss a beat and continued to pump into you, driving you further into the mattress.

Your vision was white as you rode the waves and Jessie prolonged your orgasm. As your moans and whimpers ceased, she slowed her strokes until she simply lay on top of you, buried inside.

“I love you so much,” Jessie panted, breath hot against your ear. She shifted her weight so she wasn’t fully on top of you, but made a point to not pull out.

“I love you, too,” you breathed, unable to open your eyes yet as you tried to catch your breath.

You both lay there in silence for several seconds before Jessie suddenly jerked upwards.

“Oh shit,” she said, her head swivelling left and right as she searched the bed. When her eyes landed on her discarded phone she carefully lifted herself out and off of you before she snatched it up. “Oh fuck,” she laughed, seeing it was still recording and she quickly tapped the button again to stop.

You managed to lift your head to peer over at her curiously. Your eyebrows lifted as the realization hit you.

“Oh my god. I forgot,” you told her, a dazed smile forming on your face.

“I did for a moment, too,” Jessie laughed. She glanced at you as she held the phone tentatively in her hand. “I’m afraid to play it.”

She hit play on a random part of the video anyway and the room immediately filled with moaning, heavy breathing and other lewd sounds. She immediately went beet red and turned it off as she looked at you. You stared at each other wordlessly for a second before both dissolving into laughter.

“Okay.” Jessie eventually said, face still radiating heat. “I’m going to have to be extra sure to never ever open this video unless I have earbuds in.”

You gave her a series of exaggerated nods. “And double check what your Bluetooth is connected to.” Jessie raised her eyebrows even higher.

“That said,” she went on. “You look fucking stunning.”

[kamotecue]

cute instagram live ∞ j. fleming

pairing: jessie fleming x fem!reader

summary: in which the two lovers (private, but not really a secret) actually confirm their relationship on an instagram live. american!reader, basketball!reader

jessie alexandra fleming, everyone knows her as baby canada or one of chelsea's best midfielders. but you? you best know her as your childhood friend, naturally your mother and her father had been friends since their college years - having to have met at a common organization. she was the shy one, the quiet one while you were the complete opposite - the unfazed, cheerful and out-going one. you remembered the first time you had met the canadian, it was a get together between your family and hers, it's been a while since they've seen each other so they had opted for a reunion.

you were standing there in blue overalls, clinging to your mother who had simply guided you throughout the crowd. as much of an extrovert you were, you disliked being in rooms filled with adults - rather wanted to be near people your age. and so, you did, your eyes had locked onto a certain fleming - her noticeable freckles are what caught your attention, thinking it was cute and that it suited her. yes - that's when you first started liking her, you thought you just wanted to be friends, but little did the canadian know, she had your heart the moment you set your eyes on her.

"n/n, this is jessie fleming." your mother's voice was heard as you stepped aside, greeting the canadian with a handout. she flushed as you looked at her a bit confused, usually this is when someone would reciprocate the handshake. it had only taken her a few seconds to grab your hand, softly shaking it as you introduced yourself, earning a shy grin from her.

"i'm y/n l/n." "as you heard, jessie fleming"

that was the introduction of a century, everyone knew it was a start of a great friendship - and it was. but as you grew older, the feelings you unknowingly held started to grow stronger. it was noticeable for you, and surely it was noticeable to her chelsea teammates. her teammates would tease the canadian midfielder, who was completely unaware of your feelings, thinking that it was a joke, but it wasn't. and she secretly wished that it wasn't a joke, that maybe a part of you did reciprocate it. unlike the midfielder, your interest was in another sport - basketball, you had joined the senior national team in 2016, making the roster for that year's olympics and onwards.

snapping out of your thoughts, you waved at the camera, the instagram live had already started. fans from both worlds (football & basketball) had started flooding in, knowing it was always a live duo, you were never one without the other and vice versa. you watched her facial expressions, as she shyly started conversating with the ones flooding the comments - a few people from her club had joined, commenting a few things.

"n/n, there's a question for you." jessie said, as she locked eyes with you. in that moment, you felt your breath get taken away. quickly flushing, you looked at the comments, ignoring how a few fans had noticed that, your face was undoubtably red.

"are you and jessie a thing?" you read the comment out loud, as jessie hummed. you grinned at them, the two of you had been talking if you'd want to go out in public as a couple. and you agreed, knowing if she was or wasn't okay with it - but thankfully she was.

"yes, we are." you softly said, as jessie kissed the crown of your head, which your eyes widened. she's not really one for public affection, but she knew it was something you loved.

"you know what i find crazy, love?" you asked, you didn't look at the comments instead of the eyes you had fell for. her eyebrows perked, obviously waiting for your response.

"you used to rub dirt on me, and now you're proclaiming your love towards me." you teased, chuckling as jessie flushed red - quickly denying it, even though it's true.

"in my case, i was rubbing dirt on you because i love you." you furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding her words as she chuckled at your confusion, looking back at the comments who gushed over your words.

just wanted to do a short blurb, or fic since i've been swamped up with college works. hope you enjoyed it!

[normspellsman]

This Time, Let Me Take Care of You

pairing: neteyam x fem!human!reader

genre: purely fluff

word count: 1.0k+

warning(s): mentions of injury, nete being a sucker for you taking care of him, teyam calling reader angel (blushing frfr), the teeniest tiniest hint of tail shenanigans, & mentions of kissing + cuddling

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @goodiesinthecloset21 @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @universal-s1ut @optimisticblazetrash @amortencjja @liyahsocorro @arminsgfloll @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @ihave500hubbiez @bigdikzaddy @cheyehc @tigermoon3 @httpjiikook

request details: here!

word bank: ikran — four winged creature used for flying + hunting, yawne — beloved, oeyä — my (possessive), tiyawn — love, tanhì — bioluminescence freckle(s); star, & syulang — flower

note: i hope you like it anon! i wanted to keep it short & sweet. let me know if you don’t or had something else in mind :)

“Sit.”.

The sound of your demanding voice made Neteyam nearly drop to his knees and kiss your feet in apology. He knew that he fucked up. He knew that the words you uttered to him before leaving for the scouting mission was something he was supposed to take seriously, but as always, they flew out the window when Lo’ak dipped and landed his ikran on the battlefield to get a little bit of action.

Your silence following your demand didn’t ease Neteyam’s anxiety one bit. His eyes following your figure as you walked around the healing tent and gathered all the herbs and paste you needed to tend to his wounds. An all too familiar scowl painted onto your face as you did so, muttering curses under your breath.

Before your lover had left on the scouting mission his Father put him on, you told him to be careful, resting your hand above his heart before he kissed your knuckles and promised he would be. Liar, you internally seethed, shaking your head at the thought.

You knew how much Neteyam preferred to put others before himself, often getting in trouble or injured when he did so. You always scolded him on the matter, muttering how he should put himself first for once. It was frustrating to say the least. Really frustrating.

“Ah, yawne, gentle,” Neteyam hissed out, groaning at your rough application of the paste onto his open skin. He knew that you were angry at him for breaking his promise to you. He could practically feel the annoyance radiate off of your skin from behind him. He didn’t blame you for feeling the way you felt. Neteyam was angry at himself too for always thinking of others and taking care of them before himself. Although it was something that frustrated you to no end, you knew that your lover was a naturally caring person and it was instinct for him to do what he does. It was one of the things you loved about him.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and sighing before dipping two fingers into the white paste and gently lathering it onto Neteyam’s azure skin.

You just wished that Neteyam had an equal balance of both. Of putting others and himself first. You hated seeing him like this, all bruised and bloody from trying to save his brother's ass.

“Oeyä tanhì,” Neteyam whispers, shifting his body to face you, taking your hand into his as he grazed his lips against your knuckles. “I am sorry,” he adds, “I know that I promised you to be careful. But, Lo’ak,” his eyes closed at his brother's name, sighing out a breath.

“I know, tiyawn, I know,” you cut off your boyfriend, understanding what he was trying to say.

You always tried your best at understanding the dynamic between Neteyam and Lo’ak. You didn’t have any siblings of your own, not including Spider who was the closest thing you’d get to a brother. So it was hard at times understanding just why Neteyam would risk his life for his brother and always take the heat from their Father. But, you really did try to grasp how much he cared for Lo’ak and that he’d do anything to make sure his little brother was safe.

All you want from Neteyam is for him to be safe and come back to you in one piece. But it seemed as if that simple request was getting harder and harder to ask for ever since the sky people returned to the planet of Pandora.

“Just…” you started, tears pricking your waterline at the thought of Neteyam not returning to you, especially after this mission, “Please try to be more careful. I would like for you to come home to me in one piece and unharmed.”.

The slight crack of your voice from emotion made Neteyam want to gather your face into his hands and place gentle kisses all over the skin before placing one on your lips, but that stupid mask you had to wear prevented him from doing so. Instead, he placed your hand onto his chest, right above his heart.

“I always do, syulang,” he responded, pushing some of your hair back as it fell in front of your mask. He leaned forward a bit to place a soft peck onto the exposed skin of your hairline where the mask had slightly slipped from.

You only hummed at his reply, quickly gathering yourself before sniffling, motioning for your boyfriend to turn around so you could continue taking care of him. “Turn around,” you ordered, hands pushing his shoulders to aid him in the action, “Let me take care of you.”.

Neteyam let out a small, gentle chuckle at your pushing, turning around so his back faced you. He’d never admit it, but he loved it when you took care of him. Whether that be lathering healing pasted onto his injuries or making sure he ate plenty throughout his day or dragging him to your room whenever he couldn’t sleep, knowing that he only got a full night's rest in your arms. He loved it all.

“After we’re done, we’re going back to my room and you’re taking a nap,” you said, seriousness laced in your words, leaving no room for objection from the blue teen boy sitting in front of you.

He loved how insistent you were to take care of him, pouting when you weren’t able to do so or when he got dragged away by his Father before you could. Neteyam always looked forward to your gentle touches and soft words as you took care of him, massaging his tense muscles or rebraiding his hair when it needed. He often thought about how you would take care of him when he saw you next whenever he got some alone time. He couldn’t wait for you to take care of him for the rest of your lives.

Neteyam smiled at your demand, tail wrapping around your thigh as you continued your task of covering his wounds in the creamy paste you held in your hand. “Of course, angel,” he replied, eager to get into your bed and cuddle up next to your soft and warm body for the rest of the night.

He really couldn’t wait.

[loracarol]

Went and saw Wicked pt 1 today and I just. Loved it so much.

(Somehow I managed to miss all the marketing / if there were any cast shenanigans, so this is SOLELY based on the movie itself and NOTHING else.) My thoughts, in no particular order (and with some spoilers ahead.)

My biggest fear was that the two leads would seem too old for the part, but they didn't.

I don't really listen to Ariana Grande that much? But her Glinda was PERFECT. She brought such lovely orange cat energy to the role; Glinda was so perfectly bitchy and stupid that it worked for me and I couldn't hate her, even when she was being The Worst (TM).

Also, both actresses have the "desperately trying not to cry" face down to perfection; Glinda in the opening song, trying to put on a brave face about "yes!! the witch is dead!!" but she looked like she was on the verge of tears the whole time? 10/10 no notes.

Whoever was in charge of doing the green skin did an excellent job. I don't know if it was CGI, practical, or a combo, but it looked really good IMO. They even gave her green freckles!!

THE DESERT FROM THE BOOKS.

BOQ IS FUCKING SPONGEBOB???

THE CHOREOGRAPHY. Parts of it were weird in a perfectly Ozian way! But others were gorgeous! Two scenes that got me were the ~Mysterious Stranger~ and Elphaba's mom and then Dancing Through Life esp. with the library. IYKYK.

Speaking of the library, I also liked the architecture.

It didn't feel too long to me? I was immersed the whole time, but that could just be me.

Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenowith have a cameo that is just beautiful.

There were several scenes that were shot where, if Elphie and Glinda kissed, I would have thought that was the natural progression of the scene BUT I also thought that Elphie had a spark with Fiyero which is good because 1. I'm an "Elphie has two hands" truther and 2. because if Elphie and Fiyero had no spark, that would be a problem in part 2. 🤣

(Like, they didn't fall in love which I wasn't expecting, but there was a spark. When they first meet, and she's going through her "yes, I know I'm green" checklist, "no, I didn't eat grass as a kid" is one of the things, and he's just like, "...I ate grass as a kid." Perfect. 10/10 no notes.)

I want to hold off my thoughts on Nessarose until part 2 and I see how they handle her, but there were several scenes were I thought, "you know, if she decided to go evil because people keep disrespecting her autonomy, I'd understand. I wish she'd focus on the people who were being disrespectful instead of being a despot, but like... I get it."

STOP GRABBING HER WHEELCHAIR.

I loved how they really put thought into how a goat would teach, with various foot pedals to operate his teaching equipment.

My Mom got actually sad about the lion cub. :(

Fiyero brought some "Chris Pines in Into the Woods" sluttiness. 10/10 no notes.

We need more Chris Pines in Into the Woods sluttiness.

The costuming in general made me Very Happy. I want the Shiz uniform, honestly.

Maybe I'll watch it again later and have Other Thoughts / more objective thoughts, but my first thought coming out of the theater was, "damn, this fucks."

I liked it a lot.

[atenea585]

Always His Eyes

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: You always saw his eyes as something glorious. But something is missing now that he is gone.

Word Count: 1,368

Tags/Warnings: angst, violence, blood, death.

Your ears were ringing. That was the first thing you felt.

What had happened? Am I dead? Is this heaven?

Lilith had tried to kill you along with Sam, you even saw a glowing light and you closed your eyes because it hurt the sight.

But you didn't feel... Dead.

You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was Dean's feet a few feet away. You were lying on your side, your head hurt, but little by little you were more aware. You shook your head and felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly.

“Hey, are you okay?” You heard Sam's voice next to you.

But your vision was focused on Dean, his body still. You propped yourself up on one elbow and simply watched him. What happened playing over and over in your mind, like a recording you don't want to let go.

"Dean?" You barely heard your own voice, so low and strange that you thought you had thought of that name.

Sam heard it anyway, and made his attention move to his brother's body. He slowly got up and walked towards him. Meanwhile, you continued to stare at his body, as if you were hoping (no, wishing... Yes, definitely wishing) that he would move.

But that was impossible after the attack he had suffered by the hellhounds.

You stood up slowly, being able to see more of his body, but decided to keep your distance. You really didn't want to admit it, admit that he... That he...

He...

“Sam?” You whispered his name when you saw him kneel next to him. “Sam, tell me he’s okay.” You heard him cry softly, saying Dean's name.

Only at that moment did you decide to approach the opposite side where Sam was, falling to your knees while you saw how his brother lay limp in his arms. Dean's chest was torn, his own blood splattered across his face. A truly horrible scene to watch, a scene that made you squint your eyes and focus solely on his.

"Dean…” You shook your head, feeling a tear run down your cheek as you slowly extended a hand towards him. “No…” You even stopped breathing normally.

You entered the office without bothering to knock on the door. Likewise, you could barely carry the coffees in both hands. What did it matter if you didn't announce yourself before? But as soon as you looked up, you noticed that your boss wasn´t alone, but in the company of two young men about your age.

“Oh, excuse me, I'll be back another time.”

But your boss's voice made you stop your movements.

“She´s my assistant.” He said, standing up and calling your name. “Dear, they're from the FBI, they're coming for the disappearances.”

Both guys stood up from their seats and the first thing you noticed was the height of both of them, one taller than the other, but that din´t detract from the other. You looked between the two of them with a slight smile. They were both attractive, you had to admit, dressed in their suits and with almost angelic faces.

"Hi." The taller of the two said, looking at you with a friendly smile on his face.

You waved back and your gaze moved to the man next to him, his green eyes probably being the first thing that caught your attention. But the freckles near them made you tilt your head in attention.

"Hi." He stretched out his hand to shake yours, but you hesitated, diverting your attention to the cardboard in your hands that was keeping the coffee cups afloat. He seemed to notice that your hands were full. “Lemme help you with that.” He said before pulling the cardboard off of you, your fingers brushing together, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel electricity run through your body.

He passed the coffees to his partner (who almost dropped them due to the unexpected movement) without even taking his eyes off you. He extended his hand to you again and you smiled at the charm that seemed to emanate naturally from him.

"Hi." You shook his hand.

"Hi." He repeated softer this time.

You think you got lost in his eyes...

“Please don't…” You sobbed over his corpse, leaning over him slightly as you brushed his cheek with your hand, afraid to feel the skin of an uninhabited body.

“So, vampires, werewolves, Chupacabras... do all of that exist?” You walked next to him, your hands inside your jacket while the lights of the ambulance were meters away from both of you.

You had a wound on your cheek that professionals had already taken care of, although of course you had to lie to them about how you got it. Surely they would have sent you to a special hospital if you told them that you got it when a Wendigo kidnapped you along with a hunter of supernatural creatures who wears jeans to the forest.

“Pretty much yes.”

“Even Bigfoot?”

“Well, we haven't crossed paths with him yet, but I'm ready.” He responded with amusement, stopping walking to turn to look at you.

You laughed and your gaze met his, stopping walking too. Hell, his eyes could be brighter under the moonlight. Incredible, but possible.

“Okay, smart boy, for most of us college was enough,” you shrugged, your shoulder aching slightly at the movement and you wondered when your body would feel like new again, “well, for those who went and didn't have than being a secretary.”

“It's more something you are born with than something you can decide.”

You nodded your head slowly and watched him. It must have been a lonely lifestyle and you even wondered if at any point in his life he thought about doing something other than a hunter who put his life in danger on every hunt, but you didn't dare ask him, believing it to be invasive. Instead, you sighed and swayed on the spot, adopting a more timid attitude as you briefly lowered your gaze to your feet before returning it to his eyes.

“I don't know how I could thank you.” A flirtatious smile made its way onto his face and you looked at him in disbelief, but you couldn't hide your own smile. “And you had to ruin the moment.”

"Yeah!"

You shook your head in amusement and bit your bottom lip. You didn't know where your shyness had come from since Dean had actually been flirting with you at all times since you met him, sometimes being more subtle than others.

He tilted his head and brought a hand to your lips, pulling your lip out from between your teeth with his thumb. Your entire attention was on him. Suddenly, the lights of the ambulance no longer blinded one side of your face and, instead, made his shine.

And those eyes... Always his eyes...

He brushed away a strand of hair covering your eye and stroked his thumb over the bandage the paramedics had placed over your wound, so gently it felt like a feather brushing your face.

And at no time did you dare to look away from his eyes.

You ran your fingers through his hair as you whispered his name once more, your hands shaking and your chest hurting like it had never hurt before. Your tears fell on him and you just wished it was like in the movies, and that your pain would bring him back. This wasn't supposed to happen, you were supposed to find a solution and Dean would be saved. You had tried everything in one year. So much effort to prevent what you now knew was inevitable.

You looked into his eyes and had to blink because tears blurred your vision. Those eyes no longer shone. They no longer shone with the moonlight that was currently coming in through the window. They were empty, not even looking at anything in particular. They were simply two spheres without a soul to guide them. And they seemed like the most horrible thing you had ever seen in your life.

You understood that his eyes were only beautiful because they had his life inside them.

[mizusnose]

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I

Summary: your lifelong crush on your best friend Akemi’s best friend turned girlfriend is something you’ve learned to deal with.

heavy on the angst, yearning, and sadness/anger that comes with a love unrequited…

Akemi is beautiful. She’s pale and her lips are naturally pink, no need for any tinted lip palm, her eyelids naturally double lidded—you admire her openly. It’s the same way you regard your jealousy whenever Mizu is around too.

It’s been a lifelong thing: this love you hold. Insistent like a stream in the summer, constant like rivers unnamed underground. A yearning you’ve come to deal with.

The thing is this: Mizu is beautiful. Not the kind of beautiful that Akemi is, with her pink skirts and dainty wrists and pink lips. Mizu is large palms, tall with broad shoulders, a shaved undercut that fails to hide the freckle on her nape. The bones of her chest that flutter whenever Akemi kisses her.

You turn away, tucked away in the corner of the bar. You’re single—always have been. It should be easy, and yet the warmth of the wine on your tongue sits heavy, strong and pungent.

They make a good match, you remember telling your friends, They’re meant for one another.

And you’d laugh, and you’d sit there and watch them whisper to one another, Mizu’s hands on Akemi’s tiny waist, her ribs, her shoulders.

The first time you’d wrote about it, the thudding of your heart, the heat of your face, Mizu’s face in your mind as you touched yourself, you realized: you were in love. The letter didn’t see daylight for years. Felt like a part of yourself from a past life, one now fallen away from and so distant.

You remember it now. As Mizu pecks Akemi’s jaw, her chin, the underside of her ear. How she walks away to get more drinks and Akemi sidles up to you, a flush on her face, the skin of her neck.

“You look angry.”

“Ah, just work stuff..you know..”

Akemi nods, sipping the melted ice of her drink. Her chest isn’t covered. It reflects the dim lights. You look away.

Mizu returns and sets wine glasses down. You meet her eyes, the blue of it an electric thing in your gut. She grins as a hello, and you nod back, tipsy and unbalanced.

Your letter would likely never see the light of day. Instead, it would sit where you’d left it, the half-life of truth on paper an eternity—double that. You remind yourself to burn it when you return home. Maybe get drunk while you do it, really make it dramatic as possible.

Yet, as the night stumbles away from everyone, Akemi leaves early for her early work call tomorrow morning. A slurred I hate it, I hate it, god I wish I could quit urghhh as Taigen took her home.

And then Mizu was there, against the wood of the bartop. Her glistening golden chains reflecting in the low light. She rarely ever wore anything too revealing: liked turtlenecks more than anyone you’d ever known. But her puffer jacket had been long set aside, now just an indigo outline of her. A person against the backdrop of the bar, a watercolor in the night. A thing of desire in your mind, your heart.

You’d talked, somehow managed not to make a fool of yourself. Maybe have given away you’d drank too much, so now she was directing you into a cab: her hands steady and distant from your waist, your hips.

She helped you back into your apartment, stopped to drink some water, give you some as well, and now here you both were: in the darkness of your room, a mess of yourself thudding against your entire body.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Mizu doesn’t respond. She lays you down and walks around your room. steps over the mess of your floor and the disheveled state of your desk, your drawers, your walls pinned in posters of bands and music and prints.

Her hands would stop, start again at different points of the room and mouth the words of the poster or the messily scrawled note you’d written weeks ago. You’d watch her, unfocused and smeared in anticipation—of what, you couldn’t tell.

And then—

“A letter.” Her voice broke the silence. The hum of your fridge started up again, and you went still. Felt the blood in your body rush, felt it in your face, could hear it in your ears, “For me?”

———

ok this is too long snd idek if i’ll continue this but lmk what you think. i watched little women and needed some angsty yearning so here we are! maybe a part 2??

[lilyslemonadestand]

Hi! Can I request tieflings with touch starved Tav? 💫

touch starved.

a/n: this probably /definitely/ should've been an actual fic. i like... mixed an actual plot with headcanons IDKKK i'm new alright. at least i finished a blog for once. pat me on the back for that! also, i've never written for any of them, so lmk if you have critiques!! AND LEAVE MORE TIEF BOYS ASK I AM OBSESSED. loved this request btw!!! hope i did it justice!

warnings: nothing this is so fluffy and innocent.

rolan.

• out of the three of the tieflings, he's definitely the most touch starved.

• i mean he's literally never been touched by anyone besides his siblings, and that's mostly just them smacking him.

• after a long day of getting your ass kicked /and maybe accidentally walking into your own moonbeam once/ you decided to visit sorcerer sundries alone to check up on your old friend.

• evidently, rolan had a equally horrible day. well, it was the same as usual, but rolan was more bitchy.

• when he saw you though, all of his irritation and annoyance flooded from his body, and it seemed like he completely lit up.

• "new bruise?" she asked, watching as the corner of his lips turned upwards. a genuine, non-snarky smile was rare from rolan. he rolled his amber eyes at you, nodding regardless.

• "new scar on your nose, hm?" rolan retorted, and your hand went up to rub at the bridge of your nose. you hadn't even realized that you'd been bleeding there. huh. at least it'd be a cool place for a scar.

• before either of you realized it, rolan's hands were clasped around one of yours, his thumb rubbing circles onto your palm. you froze. who even knew how long it'd been since you'd been touched like that--- if ever. even gale brushing shoulders with you made you tense up, let alone a touch by a really cute tiefling.

• he notices your reaction and can't help but laugh, making the tip of your ears flush pink, and you glared at him. rolan's freckled cheeks are just as warm as yours.

• "i've been worried about you, you know." he blurts out, and for a second he pictured cal and lia teasing him for hours on end. they all knew he liked tav, and had ever sense their brief encounter at the grove, her fierceness leaving him staring with wide eyes and a blushed face. ever since then, they never shut up about his little crush.

• "i know." you whispered, and you finally relaxed into his touch. rolan kept looking down at your shared hands. "but i'm not the one with fresh bruises."

• rolan clicked his tongue in annoyance, wishing he wasn't completely marked up by lorroakan, but he had no say in the matter. he figured you knew why he had these marks.

• "lorroakan isn't the best teacher in the world, i'll admit. don't worry about me though." rolan grumbled out. ah yes, this tone was the rolan she remembered. the grumpy one.

• your hands move to tuck a piece of hair behind his ears before brushing your knuckles gently across the fresh bruise on his jaw. rolan turned his gaze to the ground, and you heard him whining out some form of insult as your hand grazed his skin.

• "your skin's warm," you mumble regardless. "i could always kill him, y'know. well, i'm going to anyway. but i could speed it for you. and uhm--- i know a pretty decent wizard. gale, the one you met? much better than that asshole. he'd love to train you." you slightly ramble, and rolan watches as you fidget with your left hand, so he squeezes it gently. "i mean, i'd like you to... join too."

• "thank you, tav. i'll think about it." rolan's already made up his mind. he'd work for anyone as long as it wasn't lorroakan. he pressed a few kisses along your knuckles before dropping your hand.

• rolan can guess by the way you react to his touch that you're as touch starved as him and after that, it basically becomes a competition to see who can fluster each other more. /he does not win./

dammon.

• dammon is naturally very touchy. he talks with his hands and with his tail, so usually one of two will end up on the friends he talks to.

• with you, he's a little more shy, though. more careful, one could say. anytime you spoke, his sharp blue eyes were on yours, and he concentrated more on making sure he wasn't practically wagging his damn tail at you.

• today, you had your arms folded as you sat on one of the crates in the corner of his forge. dammon was finishing up a dagger for you, /his work too heavy for your liking, but you needed an excuse to talk to him, so you'd give them to astarion/ and you had been talking his ear off about your latest adventure.

• dammon didn't mind at all, humming in acknowledgement while he finished wiping the oil off of the blade.

• "here. crafted with love and care." the teifling teased, handing you your new weapon to inspect. and it was beautiful, perhaps one of the finest daggers you'd seen, with a lovely intricate design. dammon had made you plenty before, but each weapon and armor was just as beautiful. your eyes marveled at it, smiling before rummaging around your belt for your bag of coins.

• "it's lovely as always, dammon. thank you!" you beamed and you noticed his tail flicker from behind him. "and how much do i owe you again?"

• "you brought all the material's, my friend. and you brought me company today. how about you let me take you for a walk and we call it even?"

• his words felt like he'd just asked you on a date, but you jumped up from your place on the box, nodding enthusiastically.

• the heart of baldur's gate was much more relaxing in the evening. it wasn't god awfully hot, and the sky muted to a warm fuschia. and you couldn't help but admire the way dammon looked with his work sleeves rolled up, a content smile on his face as he led you through the streets.

•honestly, it was obvious to everyone besides you two that you two liked each other. dammon was oblivious, and, well... you just figured it wasn't safe enough to get into a relationship.

• little did you know, someone named karlach accidentally shared to dammon that you may have a thing for him.

• "so... are you going to continue that story about wyll?" dammon asked sweetly and you felt his tail move up towards the small of your back. like he was holding it while you two walked. at first you tried to ignore it, but the small act of touch made your face heat up.

• dammon must have noticed because he dropped his tail, instead moving to intertwine your fingers together.

• thankfully, the story of wyll was too good to keep quiet, so you were able to lean into his touch, dammon's eyes twinkling as you started to ramble on.

• also, once dammon notices just how touch starved you are, he will literally not be able to keep his hands off of you.

• massages, hand holding, wrapping his tail around your calf, rustling your hair when you say something silly--- definitely the touchiest out of the three.

zevlor.

• zevlor is also extremely touch starved, maybe more than rolan, he's just not as obvious. unlike the two younger boys, he feels like he's too old for feelings, especially for warriors like yourself.

• and unlike the two younger boys, zevlor's much better at hiding his feelings. his tail doesn't swing behind him, he doesn't flush like rolan, and he doesn't really speak on feelings like dammon.

• zevlor does admire you though, that much is obvious from his flaming rust eyes watching you carefully as you sneaked from conversation to conversation. you were strong and a leader just like him. it made you two have a lot in common.

• zevlor was tense when you approached him. most of the younger tieflings were laughing away, dancing even, all drunk as can be. the paladin had a chalice of wine in his hand, shoved forcefully by a certain large druid, but he had not yet even taken a sip. how could he? he had much on his mind.

• "drinking tonight?" you asked brightly, your smile enticing as you peered up at him while taking a swig of your own wine. your nose scrunched in disgust at the taste; tiefling wine wasn't most people's preferred choice for alcohol.

• zevlor chuckled and shook his head, tilting his glass slightly, so she could see that it was still full.

• "i've got too much to deal with--- tomorrow's trek will not be a simple task, tav." zevlor replied, setting down the glass on the table next to them.

• you frowned. that couldn't do. if you could relax, so could he. even leaders deserve their chance to have fun.

• "you deserve one good night of fun before tomorrow." you smiled. the teifling nodded his head slowly, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

• "that'd be nice... if i'm being honest. i just can't let them down." he mumbled, the stress from the journey showing in his face.

• "and look around zev. they're all drunk anyways. nobodies watching you tonight, so just relax."

• you were right. nobody was looking at either of them. most were drunk, and the ones that weren't were chatting away with halsin. it didn't take long for a small smile to creep up to his mouth. zevlor took the cup from her, and took a drink out of it. he mirrored her nose scrunch. wow. it really was cheap wine.

• with a fleeting moment of confidence, /or alcohol/ zevlor pulled you into a hug. at first, you didn't hug back. you were shocked. you hadn't had a hug in... what? weeks? months? years? and clearly, he hadn't either. you both seemed to really have needed it, too, because you instantly melted into his arms, and his grip only tightened. you could hear his heart thumping against his chest. yours was equally loud.

• "you've done great by them. i know you'll keep them safe. but in the meantime, you need to take care of yourself too."

• zevlor laughed against your hair, your encouraging words enough to make the old paladin's eyes water. he hadn't heard words as soft as yours in a very, very long time. and it was enough to keep him going.

• he wiped the forming tears quickly away with his sleeve, not wanting to burden you any further with his emotions.

• from then on, zevlor is very comfortable hugging you. whenever he sees you, whether it's in the mind flayer colony, in baldur's gate, or anywhere else, be prepared for a very bone crushing hug. when he feels fancy, he'll even spin you a little.

• all of his touch is very polite and romantic. you both deserve and need it.

[mistressroxielove]

Hey everyone~ I got some more stuff for ya~

Long story short, I've discovered the new Fairly Oddparents reboot, absolutely loved it and was inspired to make this AU idea for the show! With a slight reimagine/redesign of the characters as well.

Here's some more info about my AU:

Fairly Odd Parents AU/Rewrite

Au Name: FairlyOdd Brother

Summary:

Perri (previously known as Poof) recently graduated from Fairy Godparents School and is eager to start granting Wishes for his very own godchild! Only problem is that with his lack of experience Jorgen is weary of giving him an assignment and keeps finding excuses/reasons to not give him a godkid. Realizing it might be a 1,000 years before they give him a chance to be a Fairy Godparent, Perri decides he needs to be a little bold and perhaps, bend Da Rules, to get his foot in the door so to speak. And his answer comes to him from a new neighbor in his human home, a family with a sweet shy 10 year old girl who is absolutely miserable. Perhaps Perri might be able to offer this girl a little comfort and fun as her new Fairy Godbrother!?

(Basically the same premise of the show, except Perri’s first godchild is Hazel, and through a technicality in the rule book, becomes her god brother instead of her godparent.)

ALSO please note this AU is more of a slight reimagine of the original show, meaning I did tweaked / changed some of the characters personality to match the new story I made for them. Nothing majorly different, but again just a heads up before you read on. Hope you like it~

Name: Devin “Dev” Dimmadome 

Age: 9/almost 10

Sex: Male

Physical Description: 

Is basically the same as in the show, though there are a few key differences. 

-Despite having slicked back hair he always has a single strand that no matter what always sticks out, he hates it and is always trying to move it back into place but to no avail. In reality without the hair product he has natural curly hair like his father, though his curls are a little more difficult to comb and manage than his father, something that he doesn’t like about himself

-Has freckles! But always wears makeup to cover them as according to Dale’s research are ’less desirable’ and would statistically do better with them covered up

-Also has heterochromia, one blue and one green eye, but always wears either a blue or green contacts to hide his ‘flaw’, again being told to do so by his father

- Though he is always required to wear a branded white hoodie, Dale actually lets him wear whatever shirt he wants underneath, just with the promise Dev never takes his sweater off in public. Dev usually wears all sorts of geeky and nerdy shirts, mostly love meridian and Crimson Chin related stuff, it's the closes thing he’s allowed to wear ‘freely’ without requiring his father’s approval. Again this ‘freedom’ is kinda pointless since he still has to wear the hoodie, but he still appreciates it.   

-As you can see in the photo above I showed what he looks typically on the left, and on the right is basically what Dev would dress like if he had no rules or restrictions.

Personality: 

It's basically exactly the same as in the show, I really like Dev both in a story sense and a comedic sense so nothing to really change. The only slight difference is that Dev in this version clearly gets a crush on Hazel in this version. I think the show is ‘hinting’ of them possibly being a couple later on, but in my version I wanted to make it a little more clear that he has a subconscious crush on her. Basically think Anya and Damion from Spy x Family if you want a good example. He likes her, but being a 10 year old boy with severe daddy issues has no idea how to handle this and ends up being kinda mean to his regret. 

Other fun facts:

-I won’t get into it now, but his relationship with his father is a bit different, as I have a unique take on Dale and who he is as a person. I’ll probably draw him next but for now just know Dale isn’t an evil heartless father and there’s more to him than it seems, and thus the relationship between Dale and Dev is a little more complex.

-And yes though it isn’t important yet, he does end up getting Cosmo and Wanda as his fairy godparents instead of Hazel as the AU would suggest.

- In this version Peri is also not a big fan of Dev. As he obviously doesn’t like how he’s mean to her at first, but as they become friends and Peri soon realizes that Dev has a crush on Hazel this leaves Peri horrified at the thought. And of course being a proper big brother is completely against and despises the idea of Dev and Hazel ever ending up together. He’s not too over the top about his dislike, but definitely would be sitting in to conor with his arms crossed, while trying to subtly tell Hazel she could do soooooooo much better than him.   

I hope you guys like this, I'm personally really happy with how this design turned out, especially his 'real Dev' design on the right. But I would love to hear your guys thoughts and opinions about my designs. Do you like them, hate them? Feel free to tell me below.

Also tomorrow I'll post a version of this photo with a transparent BG and maybe upclose shots of the design as well, just so you can see the design easier without the BG

Previous - Next

[00fairylights00]

I Guess You Just Don’t Love Me Anymore

GIF from @glowing-starlight on Tumblr

I was so taken by @ash-arts-but-sinful's post which mentions P being jealous of the cat and @oldworldghost’s post which contains the idea of him becoming more mischievous and sassy as he becomes human that I just had to write a little something, I hope it’s alright that I drew on your thoughts for some inspiration!

As a disclaimer, I haven’t finished my first play-through yet so this is more of a character study based off of what I’ve experienced in-game and what I’ve been seeing on Tumblr instead of delving heavily into the world-building and established story that exists within the game. So hopefully no spoilers and it’s very likely that this won’t at all line up with the in-game timeline.

Big thanks to @cupidsredcollar beloved for proofreading <3 

For as long you had known Pinocchio you had never known him to be a jealous individual, in fact, when you’d first met that bleak, overcast morning in Hotel Krat you had been almost unsettled by his uncanny nature. 

His features were perfectly human, aside from the metal prosthetic he’d been fitted with. He had freckles and soft hair, a face that looked fashioned from a real person instead of the smiling caricatures Krat’s puppets were usually fitted with. 

But despite his boyish features, his face barely moved, he nodded along to Sophia as she gave him the task of locating his father, Mr. Geppetto, and tilted his head in question as Lady Antonia explained the concept of lying but his brows didn’t so much as pinch, his lips didn’t quirk and his eyes looked straight through you as you had wished him safety on his travels.

So watching in real time as he came into his own was something you cherished greatly, you continued to watch him grow and change, become something new. Pinocchio chose to spend a lot of his down time with you, he said he found you interesting, that you had a way of explaining humanity that made sense to him and over the last couple of weeks something had started to shift in him.

No, Pinocchio had never been a jealous individual, for as long as you’d known him.

Until today.

Your morning had started normally, woken up by the cool feeling of P’s lips against your forehead, human hand smoothing back your hair. He mumbled something about needing to go out, you tried to convince him to come back to bed, he tried to convince you to get up (he always wins).

P drags you down to the kitchen, you eat and he watches, something that was initially a little awkward but you’ve come to really look forward to, then you farewell each other at the rear entrance of the hotel. 

He holds you close to his chest, resting his lips to your hairline and making you promise to look after yourself and your companions while he’s away, you make him promise to be careful though you know he’s not always able to, often catching glimpses of Sophia muttering blessings and incantations under her breath in the foyer.

“It’s just Ergo hunting today, I’ll be more than careful.” He whispers, human arm winding around your shoulder. You breathe him in, hands to his chest feeling the odd sensation of his heart, not quite a tick but not quite a beat. 

You lean up to kiss against the slant of his jaw, his mechanical pulse jumping in response. He looks down at you, you catch the fondness in his blue eyes without mistake, he captures your lips in his, holding on for a second longer than he knows is necessary (it’s not like you mind though).

Lounging against the doorway, watching him walk towards the entrance of Elysion Boulevard, he turns and gives a last longing look over his shoulder before stepping through the wrought iron gates and disappearing from view.

You sigh, making your way back inside to start on your usual round of chores, helping where you could to take the load off of Polendina who needed more time to focus on Lady Antonia and her illness. You had just returned to the puppet butler for more tasks when you noticed movement on the top of the shelf behind the front desk. 

Sitting tall and proud was Hotel Krat’s resident sweetheart, Spring, tail swishing steadily as she kept watch of the foyer from her perch. The white and orange cat jumped down to the desk as she noticed you, laying down across the dark wood and turning over in gesture for belly rubs; which you gave happily. 

“She’s been very noisy today,” Polendina explained, stroking the cat, “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us?”

“Probably trying to manipulate us into giving her more treats, isn’t that right?” You accused lightly, you were sure that if he could, Polendina would be smiling. 

“There is another load of laundry that needs folding, could I have a hand?” He asked politely.

“Of course Polendina.”

And it seemed you had found yourself a shadow, Spring making an unreasonable amount of noise as she followed you and Polendina around the hotel. She wound between your legs, chirruped in response to your voices and bumped her head against whatever part of your bodies were within her reach. 

It was no surprise that Spring was loved by the inhabitants of the hotel, and it was very apparent that she loved them back, well everyone except for P. Not for lack of trying of course, he followed your advice of trying to build trust between him and the animal but she wouldn’t so much as let P touch her, hissing her disapproval for all to hear.

You’d often watch as P would recoil from Spring, the feline swiping and spitting at the puppet. You couldn’t tell from his expressions if the cat’s dislike for him bummed him out but sometimes as he lay next to you in bed he would lament quietly that Spring hated him, which would award him a sound of humoured pity and a kiss for the cheek.

It wasn’t clear what it was about P that set Spring off so aggressively. In all the time you had spent at Hotel Krat she’d never behaved in such an unfriendly way, even complete strangers who would seek refuge for short periods of time were welcome to interact with Spring freely. 

She would bask in the attention. You hoped that she would eventually come around to the puppet, given it looked like he would be around for the long haul and you just knew the two would be the best of friends if she would stop being so nasty.

But P was patient, far more patient than you were and it showed as you folded and unfolded the same piece of linen for the third time without realising, Polendina placed a gloved hand over your own, silently relieving you of duty.

“Apologies, my mind seems to be elsewhere Polendina.”

“You worry for the boy, it’s only natural that your mind wanders.” You sometimes forget how long Polendina has been around, having been a close companion of Lady Antonia’s for decades. You had a feeling he knew more about human emotions than he let on, somehow he always knew what to say when it came to your thoughts surrounding Geppetto’s Puppet. 

“I just can’t help it, and with him figuring out who he is, I fear he’ll get himself hurt by being too kind.” You wring your hands in your lap, focusing hard on the lines in your skin as you try to keep yourself from thinking of anything too awful.

“He has met humans who have given him trouble before and he has a good head on his shoulders. I would wager that you have nothing to worry about, but I understand that may not put your mind at ease.” 

“It doesn’t but thank you.” Your hand went to Polendina’s shoulder with a smile. “I think I’m going to find something else to do, try and get my mind off of things.”

Polendina nodded once, going back to folding the linens, “I’ll send the boy your way when he returns.”

You smiled in earnest, appreciative of Polendina’s knowing kindness. 

Spring, who had been lounging between you and Polendina, got up, stretching herself out and scampering over to your side. She meowed frantically to grasp your attention. 

Her interruptions continued as you made your way around the kitchen. It wasn’t particularly dirty given how little it was being used now, however, the repetitive action of wiping down the countertops and sweeping the floor were just the distraction you were looking for. 

Your ears perked up at the heavy steps of boots on marble floors, the jingle of P’s belt was something you could identify in your sleep. He stood tall in the doorway, all sweet smiles and fidgeting hands. Happy to see you, always happy to see you.

He was shockingly clean as he approached, resting his forehead to yours as his hands found their place on your waist, all the scolding about tracking oil and muck through the hotel was finally paying off.

You ran your hands over the intricate designs embossed onto the lapel of his coat, smoothing the fabric down before hooking your hands behind his neck.

“Welcome home, pretty boy.” You cooed, brushing your nose against his. 

He liked the small intimacies you shared, bunny kisses you’d come to find were a favourite of his.

“You can go and relax if you want, I’m just cleaning.” You offered, but he shook his head. 

Spring had also gotten bored of waiting on you, brushing up against your legs. So there you stood, sandwiched between your two favourite beings. 

And two shadows wouldn’t be so bad if they would stop getting under foot, you laughed as Spring and P fought for your attention while you made your way around the kitchen.

P hovered close, slinging his arm around your waist as you tried to pass him. You stopped short as he pressed his face into your neck, leaning back against his chest and resting your hands over his wrist. You could feel him smile against your skin, a careful, small smile that only he could manage.

At that moment Spring took it upon herself to jump up onto the counter in front of you, hissing and swiping at P, he scowled and pulled you closer.

“Beast,” he scowled, you gaped at P, smacking the back of your hand at his chest.

“Don’t be horrible, she’s just protecting her territory,” you chided, 

“I haven’t done anything to her, yet she spits at me.” He complained, you thought your ears might be playing tricks on you at the distinct sound of a whine in his tone.

“You love her.” You reminded smugly, a truth he was unable to escape.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he mumbled, you pushed against his hold, trying to signal your want to move and he hesitantly loosened his grip. Hand ghosting over your waist as he watched you go, you threw a smile over your shoulder which he returned in kind.

You gave Spring a kiss on the head, letting her nuzzle her face against yours before scooping her up and putting her down on the floor where she went back to curling around your legs.

“Ah, so the cat gets a kiss but I don’t?” P asked. You snorted, flinging the rag you’d been using to polish the countertops over your shoulder.

You lent your hip against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest, “you never asked for a kiss, how was I supposed to know that’s what you wanted?”

“I feel like it was obvious.” He placed both of his hands on the counter, stretching his arms out straight as he pushed against the granite. 

You rolled your eyes in jest, unable to keep the fond smile from creeping onto your face, playfully exasperated you closed the short distance between the two of you. Lifting up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he was quick to move his head once you’d pulled back. Hands to your waist and pulling you against him, sealing his lips to yours so quickly it pulled a sound of shock from your throat.

“What’s up with you today, you’ve been awfully touchy.” You teased, twisting the ends of his hair between your fingers. “Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead tenderly. 

“I missed you too, always miss you when you’re gone.” You placed a hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently under his eye.

He pulled the rag from your shoulder and threw it behind you unceremoniously, taking your hand from his cheek to drag you out of the kitchen, a laugh bubbled out of your throat that P was happy to mischievously return.

He led you to the library, seating you at the piano and turning away to rifle through the sheet music stacked in a crate on the floor. He’d been getting better day by day. 

His body wasn’t exactly built to do delicate actions but that never seemed to stop him, in fact, he was inexplicably drawn to all the soft parts of being human even if initially he was afraid to get it wrong. The last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt anyone close to him and for that reason he was acutely aware of the raw strength he possessed.

Though his conscious effort to be gentle made all the difference.

Spring decided she’d had enough of being ignored, jumping up onto the piano bench and brushing up against you, pressing close and then curling down next to you. P turned around, the particular book of sheet music he was searching for held up in his hand, his expression dropped almost comically as he noticed Spring’s position next to you, taking up what was going to be his spot.

“Move her,” he says simply, you throw your head back with a hearty laugh but P’s serious expression doesn’t change.

“No,” you start with a laugh, “Spring got here first, you’ll have to pull up a chair.”

P continued to stand his ground, you wondered if he hoped his very presence would annoy Spring enough that she’d disappear of her own accord, but the cat only opened one eye. She regarded P from her curled up position before nestling her chin back down into her tail. 

It was like Spring knew she was in his spot and was smugly showing off to him, purring loudly.

“P, I’m not moving the cat. Just come and sit on the other side of me.” You insisted, watching as his unappreciated love for the animal won out and he stalked off to get a chair. You chuckled under your breath and passed your fingers through Spring’s soft fur.

“You are so mean to him, you know? He’s quite fond of you and I think you two would be very good friends if you gave him the chance.” You whispered to the cat who ignored you, continuing to purr unabashedly.

Unbeknownst to you, P watched your interaction with the feline from the doorway, his chest feeling warm in a way he wasn’t quite used to yet. Touched by your words that you thought were falling on deaf ears.

He gave in to your fondness for the cat, pulling his chair up next to you, fingers gently flitting across the keys as you hummed softly, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He decided he didn’t mind this so much.

Late in the evening, however, he decided he did mind. 

You were curled up in your bed a book in hand and Spring dozing lazily in your lap, he entered the room and his shoulders physically dropped.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, thumb placed between the pages of your book as a makeshift bookmark. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled, sitting down unceremoniously on the edge of your bed to take off his shoes.

You placed the now forgotten book on your bedside cabinet, the act of sitting up a little difficult with the cat in your lap. You reached for his shoulder but he shrugged off your hand, trying to hide the action by stripping off his coat.

He stood and draped the coat over the back of your desk chair and moved to unbutton his waistcoat, all while staring down Spring with a scowl.

It clicked.

“Are you jealous of the cat?” You wanted deeply to believe that your Pinocchio was not jealous of a cat, but you couldn’t come up with a more sound explanation.

“I don’t know what that word means.” He lied, avoiding your gaze entirely, unbuckling his belt and dumping it on the desk, Gemini didn’t say anything so you assumed he mustn’t be awake.

“Yes you do,” you rolled your eyes, “I remember very clearly the conversation we had about it.” 

He didn’t respond, turning his back to you and focusing his attention on rifling through the dresser drawer full of his clothes. The sleep clothes he was looking for were folded at the end of the bed.

“It’s okay that you’re jealous of-”

“I am not jealous.” Quick, concise and with no room for argument, he spun back on you. His snapping didn’t phase you.

“Uh huh,” you teased with a smirk, turning all your attention back to Spring who’d been ignoring your exchange.

Perhaps what you were doing was a little mean, given that before you hadn’t been ignoring him on purpose, but it was too fun an opportunity to pass up. P let out a disgruntled huff, shuffling around in your peripheral.

“I guess you just don’t love me anymore.” He offered with his arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped and a shocked laugh fell out of your open mouth.

“You take that back, immediately!” You snapped playfully, sitting up fully and annoying the cat enough for her to get up and move.

“Make me.” The challenge he’d levied would mean conceding to his childish behaviour but after all he’d been through, you thought it only fair. 

You pulled the sheets back and stood from the bed, crossing the room to him. He tried to act as though he was uninterested, tried to pretend that your hands on his chest didn’t affect him, tried to ignore the speed of his heart as it hammered under your palm.

Your hands travelled the beaten path they always did, from his chest to his collarbone, then hooking behind his neck. Trying to pull him down was useless, like trying to topple a brick wall with bare hands, but you caught him staring out of the corner of his eye.

“Look at me.” Your whisper was a command, and he had always been faithful to a fault. “I love you.”

He tried to hide the oncoming smile, dropping his chin to his chest, but you were quick to guide his gaze back to yours. There was no way you’d be missing that careful grin. His eyes were soft and gentle when they met your own, there was hesitance in them that you didn’t want to see, so you kissed him.

He melted against you, arms winding around your back and pulling you against his chest, you hummed and he couldn’t stop the full blown grin from forming on his lips; breaking away to look at you like a giddy school boy.

“Are you going to take it back?” You asked, brushing your nose against his in a bunny kiss. 

“Will I still get to kiss you if I do?” He joked, you rolled your eyes albeit in good nature, hands cradling his cheeks as he continued to smile.

“I think that can be arranged,” you mused, leaning in to kiss him again, the two of you falling into familiar rhythm with one another.

Spring slinked out of the partially open door, tail held high, she had seen more than enough.

[hughiecampbelle]

How Cruel Is That? (Shiv Roy x Fem!Reader Oneshot)

Character/s: Shiv

Word Count: 1,258

Inspired By: Good Luck, Babe! - Chappell Roan

Requested: Not requested, but taken from the prompt list anyways :) tease + wedding ring

A/N: Alternatively titled So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings lol. Do I love Shiv? Of course. Am I here to show my appreciation for her with the help of Chappell Roan? Also of course :P Kinda on a roll with fics so don't be afraid to request!!! The angstier the better! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Succession Masterlist / REQUESTS ARE OPEN

When you look at her, you know exactly how the night will play out. It will be poetic. It will be Shakespearean. It will be everything you could have ever wanted. Your wedding ring will find its place on the nightstand. It will wait, patiently, quietly, until you’ve decided you’ve had enough of this fantastic world and decide to return to reality. The living. It slips back on without a fight, without resentment, and you consider yourself lucky. One day, maybe soon, maybe not, you imagine your ring refusing your finger, as if it knows what you’ve done, as if it will take the a moral high ground. It will break out in hives at the very thought of you. It will whisper everything it has seen to the man you promised yourself to, and your father, and perhaps even her father. It will all come crashing down. Though, a small part of you, too small to name, dreams of that day. With nothing left, no one tied to you by vows or blood or name, you could finally choose. Not the way you did roses or hyacinths, cream or egg shell, but truly, really choose a life for yourself. One worth every sacrifice, every heartbreak, every night spent as his wife. 

Her dress will fall to the floor. She will step out of her heels. Her hair, her makeup, all of it the very essence of perfection. Impeccable. In these moments, you’re seventeen all over again. Your pulse racing, heat rising to your face, questioning if this is happening as it has happened so many years since. You’re hidden in the back of the summer house, your skin hot from the sun and sea. You try to kiss each and every one of her freckles. You’re trying not to laugh too loud on her flowery bed, the mattress soft. It leaves the two of you sinking into one another. You’re as still as possible, pressed together beneath the bushes in the garden, grass prickling into your back. Even the moonlight cannot conceal what you two have been doing. Between kisses she will smile and giggle (a sound that makes your very insides melt) and ask you if you’re alright. You sense that she, too, has been taken back. All those times you should have been caught. All those times you weren’t. When you can find your voice, you promise you’re better than that. You’ll find yourself grabbing at her, unable to touch enough of her, unable to get enough of her. You thank God for her, for this moment, never sure you will get to do this again. You must live as if this is the very last time. You must savor every moment.

Her perfume, always the same scent, has become a comfort, an aphrodisiac. Licorice, bitter, and woods, natural, and her. All of her. You never liked his cologne. It was never right. You tried to find one that smelled of her, that resembled her, but nothing could substitute. Nothing could compare. Her voice is icy, her words frozen over, and you wish every night for hypothermia. She leaves her ring on. It has become a recent accessory, a new staple, though she’s made it clear it changes nothing about your dynamic. Still, she leaves it on. You catch yourself eyeing it when it catches the light. She doesn’t have a routine as you do, an inner reasoning, a way to compartmentalize. There is no division of worlds. In her life, there is him and there is you. In yours, there is him or there is her. A decision you still have not made. You are not her forbidden fruit as she is yours. She does not separate you and him. She has always loved you. She has only recently started to love him. You hope, foolishly of course, her love for you is greater than his. You know she is much more important to you than your husband ever will be. He is an obligation, a duty, a responsibility. She is frivolity. She is passion and joy and love. True love. Not just the empty sentence you find yourself reciting back to him. This is more than a couple of silly letters taped together haphazardly, forced between your teeth so that you might later gag them up when the time is right. No, this is not that. 

For now, you’ll have to wait. For now, all you have are your memories, your hopes of the future, all your expectations of tonight. For now, you must be patient. Across the room, you keep an eye on her. You wait for the right moment. It comes. She moves, so do you. You turn away from him, trying not to look at her directly as you both make your way to the bar. She is the sun and you hope, you pray, you might fly too close. It is worth being burned. It is worth setting your life aflame. He doesn’t take notice. He never does. Instead, he closes the gap in the circle, acclimating to a conversation (a life) without his wife. You wonder if he would even miss you. Sure, the beginning would be rough. He would have to fend for himself. But he can hire help. He won’t have to lift a finger. The only catch is that he’d be going to bed alone. He’d manage. He always does. You take note that her husband doesn’t notice her lack of presence. You would, you want to cry. You would notice everything about her. You bite your tongue. Where there are eyes, there are lips. You stand beside her, asking for another drink, leaving enough space between you. She fills the gap. Her arm falls by your side. Pathetically, you reach out just a little, the tips of your fingers touching hers. She remains stoic, even bored looking, but you can feel her hand wrap itself around yours. She squeezes it. Once. Twice. Three times. You breathe a sigh of relief. Sometimes you find yourself questioning if any of it was real. Was that a stolen glance? Is she following you? Is her hand really on your thigh under the table? You wonder if it’s all in your head: a singular grand delusion, an epic between you and the idea of her. This, though, reminds you it’s real and so is she. Shiv looks at you for a second, less than, and flashes a knowing smile, before letting go and grabbing her glass. 

She leaves you gasping for air, heart racing, palms sweating. She doesn’t look back, she doesn’t check on you, but she doesn’t need to. Her smile said it all. It spoke every word, every reassurance, you needed to hear. She’s been waiting for you. She will wait for you, tonight, in a room between yours and hers. She will find you. She will undress you. And you will become young again. Naive, and blushing, and full of nervousness. You will be hers and she will be yours. It told you to go back to your husband, to be doting and affectionate, but to remember that she awaits you. She always will. It isn’t right. You know this, you’re no fool. Cheating on him with the woman you love. But nothing in this world is right or fair or just. If it was, you would have ended up with her instead. You would have been her wife, not his. But you’re not. You don’t think you ever will be. How cruel is that?

[tallulah477]

hi! i was wondering do you have a visual or description of the na'vis genitals? I know you mention it coming out of a sheath, but id love to know more! Tysm :)

I love this question more than you can imagine LMAO

Ok, so . . . In my mind I have a specific image that I picture when writing alien genitalia for the Na'vi (based on my own personal preferences, of course). I wish I had an exact image so that I could show you but I haven't come across one that looks exactly like what I want. (There's a severe lack of drawn alien genitalia for Avatar, so if anyone knows of some good art . . . lemme know 👀)

That being said, if you want a visual, lemme give a HUGE shout out to @/Killveous on Twitter/X cause he has some great Na'vi genitalia designs and they have a lot of the aspects that I visualize and I actually lost my mind when I stumbled across it.

Link here for your viewing pleasure and reference.

I haven't really considered it too much for the females yet, but for the males this is what I picture:

Cocks are retractible and sit inside the body for protection.

The slit (or sheath) is a flat opening between his thighs that acts as the entrance for the cock to come out or retract back into for mating. When aroused, the slit becomes slightly engorged or puffy and wet with a natural lubricant (or slick). It feels good if you rub it or lick it!

When aroused enough, the cock peeks out through the slit until it's completely out. The slick coats the inside of the slit and the cock to help the slide out and make it wet.

I also really like the idea that the Na'vi slick has some kind of natural aphrodisiac in it so that if its ingested (so like by licking slit or sucking it off a cock during oral), it increases the consumer's arousal and desire. It would taste really sweet, I think.

I also think that the slick would provide some kind of aid to help ease the stretch during penetration to avoid any real pain or uncomfortableness and make taking the obscene size of the Na'vi more manageable, which would be really helpful with Na'vi/Human relationships.

The tip is a pretty lavender color and slightly cone shaped but not a crazy amount, just enough to make it look visibly different from a normal cock

No foreskin cause it's naturally protected by the sheath

There are bumps and barbs along the shaft and a few scattered on the tip for added texture and stimulation as well as glowing bioluminescent freckles

Bioluminescent cum! (I don't remember who made up this headcanon but . . . THANK YOU cause omg it's so good.)

When close to orgasm, a knot forms at the base of the cock. It's basically a large ball that swells and then eventually locks inside the female, usually with the intention of getting her pregnant, until it deflates and he can pull out.

[doctorgerth]

a/n: The first piece for the event! Starting with our sweet freckled fire boi. Will he get a smooch? Or is he safe until the next round? Read to find out! 💕

pairing: Ace x GN!Reader

word count: 1.3k

candy heart prompt: You & Me - Distraction

PORTGAS D. ACE + YOU & ME

The anniversary of the day you joined the crew was quickly approaching, and in typical Whitebeard Pirate fashion, they were planning a substantial celebration for you.

There was no one more grateful you joined the crew besides their very own 2nd Division Commander. You were undoubtedly Ace’s best friend among the crew; the two of you hardly ever seen without the other. That’s why Marco left him the utmost important mission of keeping you distracted while they finished with decorations and last minute preparations. Ace tried his hardest to fulfill his mission by keeping you company in your cabin — not too different from his daily routine.

Though, he really wished he would’ve been given more explicit instruction other than just keeping you ‘preoccupied’. What exactly was he supposed to preoccupy you with? The two of you could chat for hours on end. You’ve done so countless times before, but could he actually keep you cooped up in your room for long enough?

The answer was clearly no, since you quickly became eager to sneak into the kitchen — where the chefs were busy preparing your favorite dishes — for an afternoon snack.

“What is up with you?” you wondered aloud as you reached over to check his temperature. “You never turn down food. Are you ill?”

The warmth of your hand against his forehead was surely enough to bring him to feverish degrees. Your touch often did that, as did your genuine care for him. How could he not have fallen for you?

“I’m fine!” he reassured you with a groan. A result of you removing your hand. He didn’t want it to leave just yet. Or ever. “I just don’t want to face Thatch’s wrath again. My head still hurts from the frying pan he threw at me last time.”

You snickered, “Oh, so the frying pan caused you to lose the last brain cell you had?”

Thump. He smirked. Ace was a sucker for your playful banter. He’d often hoped it was flirting, but even though Ace knew you best, he couldn’t gauge your feelings for him. Did you feel the same way? Was he in your head half as often as you were on his mind?

“Yeah, I’m sorry I don't have any for you to borrow now.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Well, I’m starving and Thatch adores me, so I’m going to go grab a snack. I’ll sneak something for you too. You need to eat. You’ve hardly eaten all day.”

Thump thump. You always looked after him and he loved that about you. Ace loved you. He was never more sure of anything.

He hadn’t eaten all day because he was saving his appetite for the big feast, but of course he couldn’t tell you that. You seemed to be convinced that he wasn’t feeling well. Maybe he could use that to his advantage?

As you rose to your feet, Ace thought quickly and clutched at his stomach, doubling over with an exaggerated groan, “You’re right. I’m not feeling so well…”

You released your hold on the door knob and rushed over to him, rubbing circles against his back and cooing at him. He only felt a little bad about faking an illness, but he could really get used to the feeling of you taking care of him. It felt so natural being here with you.

“Here, lay down,” you directed as you helped Ace into your bed. He looked pitiful staring up at you; those all too familiar dark eyes tugging at your heartstrings. You absentmindedly reached out to swipe some hair out of his eyes and nearly melted when he leaned into your touch. “I’ll go get Marco. Stay here.”

Shit. You’d nearly made him forget why he was faking being sick, let alone what he was supposed to be doing in the first place. Ace struggled in stopping you from walking out the door, struggling even further with getting out from under your covers. He tripped and fell onto the wooden floor, scrambling to his feet as he stumbled down the hallway chasing after you.

“No, wait!” he called after you. You were a few paces ahead of him and quickly made it out onto the deck, stopping only when he caught up to you.

You turned to him with your brows furrowed, “What are you doing? I thought you didn’t feel well?”

Ace was well aware he wouldn’t be able to fool you twice, but you were out in the open now. Exposed to any and all potential spoilers of your celebration. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to lure you back into your room in any normal manner. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

“I’m going to go see Marco to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. I thought I heard him a second ago.” You swivelled your head to find the ship’s doctor.

Ace caught sight of some crewmates behind you, under Marco’s direction, carrying a giant balloon arch along the other end of the main deck and attempting to sneak it into the mess hall. Marco met Ace’s eyes with wide ones, panicked. He shook his head violently as he tried to hurry the crewmates out of your sight. Just as you were about to turn around to catch them in the act, Ace instinctively pulled you closer.

His warm hands cupped your cheeks, positioning your face mere inches from his. He could hear you, feel you gasp against his lips. Your warm breath fanning his own lips left him dizzy, wings fluttering madly in his gut he thought they might lift him off the ground. Having you this close to him was new, intoxicating, intimate. He felt near breathless as he continued to hold you still and you showed no sign of leaving his embrace.

“Don’t go,” he whispered gently, a calloused thumb grazing your cheek.

You sighed and Ace expected you to offer more defiance, to push him away, but instead you stared up at him expectantly, eyes blinking slow. Were you pulling him closer or was he leaning in?

He was surely running a fever now.

Your breaths mingled, lips hovering, noses brushing. The way Ace’s eyes would shamelessly drop to stare at your lips left you wondering how you were even still standing. You’d suddenly forgotten where you were or why you were even there in the first place. All you knew in this moment was him. Just you and him.

“Ace…” you sighed; a helpless plea for him to be closer.

Your name dripped from his lips like honey. You wanted to know if he’d taste just as sweet. Just as you were about to taste for yourself, a teasing voice pierced through the gentle thrumming in your ears.

“Are you two going to keep canoodling each other out on the deck or are you going to come join the party?”

The tension quickly dissipated with Thatch’s voice, causing Ace to drop his hands and you to take a hasty step backward. You turned to look at Thatch who was grinning mischievously. A crowd of crewmates behind him giggled like school girls. When you turned back to Ace, staring at him quizzically, he could only smile.

“Party? What are we celebrating?” Your voice sounded hoarse; unfamiliar. You were still jittery from the anticipation. You were actually going to kiss your best friend.

Though the tension was gone, you could tell something significant had changed between the two of you from that briefly intense moment. You’d always known your feelings for Ace were deeper than friendly, but looking at him now was like looking in a mirror. Ace stared at you in a way akin to lovers and though he was no longer caressing your face, you could feel a warm hand around your own, and another grip around your heart, squeezing as he replied,

“You, of course.”

a/n: Ace survives Round One! No smooch for him so far, but perhaps he’ll end up successful in the next round? We’ll see Fire Fist again in Round Two! Thanks for reading. 💕

[silentglassbreak]

Please please , write something. Noah and Lily, she is designer and painter, they are working together on design for new album or merch, or something like that. She is redhead, have freckles, have a lot of tattoos, like to wearing skirts and sundresses. thank you! I love your work so so much 💔💔🥲

Bb you are my first ask! So, naturally, you have my undying love and affection for eternity!

Also, this physical description is giving me such inspiration. My best friend has a very similar physical appearance, so this will be fun!! (I just finished this and OMG this got away from me. I did not intend for this to be this long...I really got into this one. I hope you enjoy!)

So let’s get into this, shall we?

Rating: Mature (for language)

Warnings: None.

Into The Ocean

What did I think would happen when I moved to New York City? That I would get here, put a few paintings in some galleries, and suddenly I’d be making millions? How fucking insane am I?

My inner monologue continued as I catatonically stirred my bowl of soggy Frosted Flakes, moping heavily.

It had been six months since I moved here on a whim and a breath of a dream, thinking that with my ‘sparkling personality’, ‘adorably good looks’, and ‘raw talent’ I’d be a success so quick. These days, however, I spent a lot of time wishing I had stayed back home in Hartford, in my Mom’s two bedroom home, with my dog and my normalcy.

No, couldn’t be me. I had to go off with delusions of grandeur, and get myself a full time job as a desk girl at a law firm (which sucked), and had virtually no time to paint like I wanted. My studio apartment in Queens was big enough for me; a bed, a small table, and my paint supplies. I had a clothes rack for my small wardrobe, and a television on the wall adjacent to my bed. My minimal belongings were strewn haphazardly around with no real method. It felt much like my life - off kilter.

Frustrated, I decided to get off the bed, still holding my bowl, and stared at the cereal floating sadly in the milk. It looked so pathetic, the same as I felt.

My eyes wandered to the floor, then the edge of the bed, and eventually to the right of it, where the seven-foot by four-foot canvas sat.

I had that particular canvas since my first day here in New York. I swore that canvas would hold my best work. The piece that would change everything for me. I promised myself I wouldn’t touch it until I was certain I knew what it would be, and was ready.

But now? Staring at it? It mocked me. Day in, day out, it reminded me that I was just another struggling artist in this God forsaken jungle of a city made of concrete and exploitation. It laughed at me. It told me I had failed.

Without realizing it, my arm shot the bowl in my hand clear across the room, the milk and flakes splattering all over my bed, and eventually spraying the canvas. It left a sickly gray hue against the stark white vastness behind it, giving me a sense of anger. A sense of rage.

Climbing up onto my bed, my feet digging into the mattress while I reached for the shelf above it, grabbing random paints from the bowl they lived in. I hastily twisted the caps off of each, my breathing becoming frantic as I felt the sudden anxiety surge through me.

Once the tubes were open, I didn’t bother with my palette, or my brushes, I just squeezed the tubes, three in each hand, until they all sprayed like firehoses over the canvas, all in varying shades of blue and black. I hadn’t even realized I only grabbed blue and black paint.

Finally, after several minutes of raging, smearing paint across the canvas with no structure, using my palms and fingers, I stepped back. The anger and fire in my chest had dulled. I took a step back, and caught a glimpse of myself in my wall-length mirror across the room, and cringed.

Navy blue paint streaked my pale yellow shorts and faded UC t-shirt. I had a large glob of black paint on my face near my hairline, turning that spot of my red waves a midnight color. I needed a shower.

Now that I had thoroughly ruined my clothes, bed, walls, and canvas, I elected to head for the bathroom to clean myself up before the process of cleaning my apartment.

However, as I turned away from the canvas, I caught a sight of it in my peripheral, and something in my brain sparked. The blues and blacks, which turned dark grey when mixed. The lines and swirls they fell in. The non-uniformity of it all.

Waves.

Ocean.

Chaos.

And like that, I was climbing back up on my bed, ready to finish my painting.

It was after 5AM, and I only had three hours before I had to be back at work before I finished. When I did, I gasped at what I saw in front of me.

It was superb.

The waves crashed everywhere as the moon hung low in the sky, storm clouds covering. Amidst the maelstrom that was the ocean, there was one large, beautiful, impossibly sad octopus, thrashing in the waves, bleeding from the eyes.

The octopus was a deep gray, blending but also naturally contrasting the color of the waves, deep crimson blood running from its desperate eyes.

It was painful. It was despondent. It was powerful.

This was it.

-

Forty-two days had passed, and I was struggling to breathe as my hands trembled where they sat in my pockets, watching the droves of people walk by me. I did my best to smooth down the skirt of my lime-green sundress and tugged at the lapels of my denim jacket. My hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, leaving my waves to cascade down my back loosely, out of my face.

The sun above provided a warmth that was needed, but I had forgotten SPF today, which meant I would likely have a fresh batch of freckles on my cheeks to add to all the others. Today had to be the day. Something in my skin told me it did.

I had been to three art fairs, two open galleries, and a fine arts convention, trying to get something, anything sold.

Three days after I finished my piece, I was told that Burgen & Black no longer needed my position, so this was all I had right now. This, and the three hundred dollars my mom loaned me when I told her I was a little short on rent.

Rent wouldn’t be an issue soon if I didn’t sell anything, as cardboard boxes are real cheap.

This open fair was in Central Park, mid-September, so it was comfortable outside. The sun was getting low, causing a golden sky to reach overhead. I had been here all day, and was beginning to feel defeated.

I hadn’t sold as much as one print. One painting.

After staring at the crowds for another twenty-minutes, I finally decided to start packing up. It was a long bus ride back to Queens, and I would be too cold after dark.

Stuffing a handful of my prints into my portfolio bag, I huffed at myself, shaking my head.

Maybe it was time to go home. Maybe being an artist just wasn’t where I fit. Maybe I did need to reconsider college. It wasn’t too late. Twenty-six was an easy age, right?

“Is this all you?”

A sharp, deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts, making me spin on my heel, to see who was standing at my booth, scanning the pieces set up on the table.

The first thing I noticed was how tall he was. He had at least a foot of height on me. I noticed next that he was covered everywhere in tattoos. The long expanse of his arms that led to the bit of his chest I could see behind his tank top was littered. It made my mouth dry.

His hair was short, hidden under a ball cap, sunglasses perched on his nose.

It took me a moment of staring before I realized he had asked me a question.

“Oh, uh,” I walked back to the table, standing directly in front of him. “yeah these are my works.”

He nodded, looking down at the table and flipping fingers through the prints.

“I like them. They’re different.”

I gave my best ‘please buy this’ smile, and nodded.

“Thank you. I just paint what I feel. It helps me deal.”

He smirked. “I get that.” His eyes came back up to my face. “Not the painting. I can’t do that. But having something to help you deal? I get that.”

That’s interesting. “Yeah? What do you use to deal?”

He flashed his teeth at me. “Music.”

Oh, brother. A musician. Any awe I was feeling was dissolving. I had yet to meet one that was worth his salt in anything, let alone carrying a tune.

“Ah, well, different animal, same results?” I tried not to sound disinterested.

“How much for the prints?”

I felt my lungs tighten. Money?!

“Ten, but it’s two for eighteen.”

He smirked. “What would a hundred get me?”

If I had not caught it quick enough, my eyes would have bugged out of my head. I stifled a cough to cover up my surprise.

“Uh,” I looked around. No one had purchased one hundred dollars of my work before. Not all at once. “Seven prints? Or four prints and a canvas or two? Depends on size.”

I pointed to the side of my table, there I had a cardboard box full of canvases. He glanced over, and turned so he could see better.

With a ‘hmph’, he squatted down and looked through them, nodding at some, disregarding others.

Eventually, he came back up and had two smaller canvases perched in his hands.

A painting I had done of ravens when I was sat in a cemetery one day for inspiration, and one of a dark room that held a single bright red wood chair. That had come to me in a dream.

“Okay, and I’ll take these four prints.” He handed me the laminated copies and gave me a sweet, polite smile.

“Sounds good, it’ll be a hundred even.”

“Can you take card?” My face fell. I couldn’t handle my rent and groceries, let alone a card reader.

He must have noticed, because he raised his eyebrows.

“Got Zelle?”

I nodded, pulling my phone out, a rush of relief washing over me. I gave him my phone number, and he pulled me up, transferring a cool one hundred dollars into my account. My stomach flipped. I was halfway to rent with my borrowed cash, and I still had two weeks before it was due.

It was the first shred of hope I had felt in a while.

“Noah!” A male voice called before a shorter man bounded up, and my eyes popped open.

Nick Folio, the drummer from Bad Omens, stood in front of my table, and I just about fell over with a stroke.

My mouth was hung open, in pure disbelief. It hadn’t even occurred to me who he had called for.

Folio held a plastic bag, having clearly grabbed something else from another table.

“There’s a guy selling homemade lures, dude. I bought six!” His teeth flashed in excitement, and my customer shook his head, smiling.

“You’re going to go broke buying those things.”

It was in that moment it dawned on me. That voice. Those tattoos. Those sinfully long fingers…

“Are you Noah Sebastian?” My words came out rushed, before I could stop them.

A sly grin fell over his lips. “Never heard of him.” He smoothly turned around, preparing to leave. “Thanks for the artwork.”

Folio gave me a small wave before following Noah. I was frozen.

I just met one half of Bad Omens. I had sold artwork to Noah Sebastian. He liked my art. I couldn’t breathe.

It took me a solid ten minutes before I could move, then packing my things and heading for the bus with my bag and box in arms, glancing around the park a few times for a familiar ball cap and forbidden fruit tattoo.

-

Nine days have passed since I unexpectedly met Noah Sebastian and Nick Folio, and it had been heavy on my mind until the stress of my rent became the reason I was laying awake at night.

With no other real resolve, my hunt for another nine-to-five not getting very far, I found myself trekking back to Central Park, ready to set up another table. I had fresh prints, and a dozen new canvasses to hopefully sell.

Now that we had crossed the threshold into October, the air was becoming more brisk. Today, I had elected to wear a floor-length forest green skirt with a white crop top, my black zip hoodie keeping my arms warm.

Today was more lively, giving me the opportunity to sell six prints and four canvasses by noon. I had made my rent, and was working on the power bill next. I had slightly raised my prices, given my circumstances, but I justified it with the need to survive.

Did I expect to run into him again? Not at all. In fact, I had convinced myself that my once in a lifetime chance to meet him had passed, and I should be excited about it. I was a Bad Omens fan, and had been since their second album. Their style of music was absolutely cathartic for me, giving me inspiration on more than one occasion while painting.

So, imagine my surprise, when I heard the same deep, smooth voice while I was reorganizing my canvasses.

“Back again?” This time, he wore a hoodie, beanie over his hair, and no sunglasses. His eyes were so big, so brown. I wanted to stare at them for hours.

I snorted. “Me? I could say the same to you?”

He leaned his hand on the table, smiling down at where I was crouched in front of my box.

“Selling a lot?”

Triumphantly grinning, I stood up, leaning my palms on the table. “Actually, yeah. It’s been weird. Central Park isn’t normally a hot spot for me, but today has been great!”

There was a flash of thirty-two stunning teeth, and I held myself upright.

“Maybe the word is spreading?”

“Maybe. Going to buy anything today?”

Raising a row, he scanned the table, tapping on one print. “This one is nice. How much?”

“Fifteen.”

His head snapped up, bewildered look on his face.

“It was ten last week?”

A sheepish blush crept over my face, and I tried to be sweet, brushing some of my loose hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, uh,” I couldn’t look right at him. “I had to raise the price a little. Living cost’s a bitch.” I shrugged.

He looked absolutely amused. “I see.” He pulled his phone out, and began tapping at something I couldn’t see. Afterwards, he picked up the print he chose, and gave me a two finger salute.

“Thanks a lot, Red.”

I smirked, feeling the phone vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it for now and approached a young couple who had walked over to my table. I did, however, watch as Noah left, making his way straight out of the park, not stopping at any other tables.

Finally home, I flopped down on my bed, and let my eyes fall closed for just a moment. I had called it early, feeling exuberant and deciding I deserved an afternoon to just relax, not painting, not trying to find a job, just snacking and watching Netflix.

Slipping my phone out of my pants pocket, I sat up, seeing some missed messages and scrolling through my notifications.

When I came to the last one, I nearly dropped my phone.

Zelle Notification: Noah Davis sent you $100.

My jaw dropped. He only bought one print. Why would he give me so much? He must have done it by mistake.

I bit my lip, bothered. I felt guilty, as if I had stolen the money from him. People were generous, but no one was that generous...right?

Staring at my Zelle account, I took a deep breath, and tapped on the transaction, pulling up the details. My finger hovered over Noah's name, wondering if I'd just get his email. After counting three calculated breaths, I finally tapped it, and a phone number flashed under the name.

Oh God, I had Noah Sebastian's phone number.

It was me being a good samaritan that caused me to pull up a text thread, and begin typing a message. The voice in the back of my head screamed at me that I could just sent eighty-five dollars back, and not invade his privacy by texting him.

But...

Me: Noah?

After hitting send, I physically tossed my phone on the mattress, and pulled my knees up to my chest, breathing erratic. I sat in absolute silence, waiting. Each passing second made my soul fall. What if it wasn't his personal cell he used for Zelle? He was a somewhat celebrity, after all. Would he really just casually give his number out to a random girl in the park?

My phone chimed, and I thought my carotid was going to blow out of my neck. Shaking fingers lifted the phone.

Noah: Who is this?

No confirmation of identity, but the number worked.

I went to type a response, telling him who I was, until I realized I never gave him my name. Sure, I had signed my art, but my signature was decently illegible.

Chewing my lip, I wracked my brain for the right response.

Me: Red.

The text bubbles had turned blue, and I saw he had received and read the message, but his type signal hadn't come up yet.

I was insane, I had to be.

Noah: LOL you mean Lily?

My blood ran cold.

Me: How do you know my name?

Noah: Well, much like my own, your Zelle tells me your first and last name.

I felt like such a moron. Of course it did.

Me: Oh, LOL yeah I didn't think of that.

I typed out another message, before I forgot.

Me: You sent me too much for that print!

Noah: No I didn't.

Me: You did. You sent me $100.

Me: I can send back $85.

Noah: Don't you dare.

This made me pause, already on the Zelle screen, his message flashing as a banner on top, making my fingers halt.

Me: Noah, I can't take that from you for one print.

Noah: ...because...?

Me: Because it's way too much! I appreciate it, but I'm not comfortable with that.

He waited a few minutes, his type bubble appearing and disappearing a few times.

Noah: So I'll buy something else from you, then.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: What would you like?

Noah: You have a portfolio online?

I sighed, embarrassed. My online presence was close to nonexistent. I had an Instagram, with all of five photos on it, and they were all four months old. I didn't have a website, not having the money to create one yet.

Me: I don't, I'm sorry.

Noah: Studio I can check out?

I stared at the screen, and laughed loudly. Oh, I've got a studio alright. Just not what he's thinking of.

Me: Not exactly. I'm a very small artist. I do all of my work out of my apartment.

Noah: Which is where?

My heart sunk. No way. Not letting him in my four hundred square foot, paint covered, disarrayed apartment.

Me: Queens.

I stayed vague.

Noah: Oh yeah, I'm over in Central Park West right now.

I sighed, relieved, and slightly disappointed.

Me: I can send you some pictures of my work? I'll just need a few to take them.

Noah: Can you just FaceTime? Seems faster.

How on Earth did we get here? I was going to FaceTime with a rockstar, and show him my paintings? This couldn't be real life.

Me: Sure. Call when you're ready.

I walked over to the corner of my studio that I kept my completed works in, a sheet thrown over the large canvas in an attempt protect the paint from the sun rays. I had yet to take that one anywhere yet. I hadn't found the right venue to sell.

After about five minutes, my phone began vibrating in my hand, and I looked down to see his name flashing.

My heart was beating so frantically, I was sure it would disconnect and come out of my throat.

I swiped the call open, and held the camera at the most flattering angle I could. Once the call connected, he sat on what appeared to be a staircase, somewhere outside, same beanie on his head from earlier, and was smiling into the camera.

"Hey!"

His enthusiasm surprised me, and I waved nervously, smiling back at him.

"Hi."

"Why do you look so uneasy? Are you being held hostage or something?"

My face fell, wildly confused by his comment. "What?"

His laugh echoed through the receiver, which made this weird jittery thing happen in my stomach.

"I'm just joking. You just look uncomfortable." He pulled his beanie down more, and I swallowed dryly, trying to giggle.

"Oh, yeah. No I'm good."

He sat back, elbow resting on the step behind him. "You sure?"

I felt like we weren't getting past this point. "Can I be honest?"

He didn't respond, just gestured for me to continue.

"I'm a fan. A big fan. So, yeah, I'm a little nervous."

His smile could've illuminated a small town.

"Oh yeah?" He ran a hand over his face. "Don't be. I'm just a guy."

Feeling rebellious, I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. A guy who hundreds of thousands of girls would kill to FaceTime with."

This made him blush, so he looked down. "Ah, I don't know about that."

I decided to press my luck. "I do."

He furrowed his brow, smirking. "Oh yeah? So you're just that lucky, huh?"

This made me grin, in near disbelief. "Ah, the great Noah Sebastian. Cocky, huh?"

This made him laugh again, to which I joined.

"Nah. Like, I said, I'm just a guy. Really cool to know you're a fan, though." I nodded in response. "Ever seen us live?"

I shook my head. "Cost of living's a bitch. You think I can afford concert tickets?"

He shrugged. "Fair enough, dude."

"Anyways, you want me to show you the artwork?"

He agreed, and I flipped the camera around, scanning through the various pieces I had out in the corner. At his request, I would get closer to a piece, or pull it up to the camera. I watched as his eyes would get close to the phone, analyzing each canvas.

"I really like the desert painting." He was referring to a painting I had done that was slightly more abstract of a desert with random melted items such as longhorn skulls, cacti, and pieces of driftwood. They melted into the sand below.

"Okay. That would bring your total with the print earlier to fifty, since this one is bigger."

He nodded. "Do you have anything for fifty even?"

Biting my lip, I scanned my eyes, landing on a painting I had of a black cat, perched on the edge of a pond, cleaning it's paw, a skeletal hand reaching out of the water for it. The painting was done in nearly all neon colors, which was different for me.

"This one." I held it up in the camera.

"Oh dude, that's fucking sick." He pulled back from the camera. "I'll take it."

I chuckled. "Okay, do you want me to ship them?"

I flipped the camera back around, and he raised an eyebrow at me. "To Central Park West?"

I shrugged. "I could."

"Nah. I can get them from you. I don't live in New York and I leave back home for LA this weekend."

This made my chest sink only a little. "Right, I can ship them there if you want?"

He shook his head. "Let's meet up and I can get them?" I hesitated to respond, and I swear I saw a flash of concern on his face. "Unless you've got plans or something."

This made me smirk. "We didn't even say when? How would I know if I had plans?"

He huffed out a laugh, grabbing his beanie off of his head and smiling. "Sorry, you're right."

"When do you want to meet?"

"Tonight? I'm busy most of the week, but I'd really like to get my stuff soon."

Pondering this, I sat down on my bed, back to my art corner. "Where?"

"There's an Italian restaurant near my hotel. We can get dinner?"

I'm going to dinner with Noah fucking Sebastian?!

"Sure. Just text me the address?" He nodded in response. "What time?"

"Whatever time works best for you, Red."

I rolled my eyes. "You know my name, Noah."

A small wink, and he smiled. "I know, Lily. I just like your hair."

My face turned a deep shade of crimson, and I felt the urge to pull at my long red waves.

"Well, if that's the plan, I'm going to get ready. I have to leave a while before you to catch the subway."

I stood off the bed and went to turn, but he spoke and stopped me.

"Hey, what's that behind you?"

I turned, scanning. "What?"

"Under the sheet."

It occurred to me what he was referring to, and I waved it off.

"Just another piece."

"Can I see it?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I haven't shown anyone yet."

"So? I can be the first!" He seemed so excited, which made me giggle.

"It's an emotion piece. Not like the others."

He raised a brow. "Still not hearing why I can't see it."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shrugged. "Alright, but don't get too excited. It's not as clean and precise as my other work."

He just shrugged, and I reached over, pulling the sheet off the canvas, and flipped the camera.

I watched his eyes, scanning the screen over and over. He looked so enamored, I was confused. Was the connection bad?

"Noah? You okay?"

He leaned back, blinking. "Lily, that's fucking amazing!"

I laughed, stepping closer to the painting. "It's okay. It's a rage painting. Something I started in a fit, and kind of worked into what it is now."

"I can tell. You can feel the pain in the image. The colors are unbelievable."

"Oh, I don't know. It's okay."

"Okay? Red, that painting is unreal. How much do you want for it?"

His question caught me by surprise, nearly knocking me down. "What?"

"How much? I want it." He was so matter of fact, that the air rushed out of me.

"I haven't priced it. It's a big piece, bigger than anything else I've ever done."

"Okay, well tell me what you think, because I'll pay a lot for it."

My heart began stammering, words not forming on my lips. "Y-You really want it?"

"I don't just want it; I want to use it."

I was confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you at dinner. Just do me a favor? Think about a price? I really want that painting."

-

We agreed to meet at 7PM, but I was late. The subway had been packed, and I missed the first one. I didn't come jogging up to the front of the restaurant until fifteen after, seeing Noah stood outside, same outfit on as earlier today. I had to calm my insides at the sight.

I waved when he caught a glimpse of me, earning a smile in my direction.

"Hey, Red!"

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't letting that go.

"Hi, Noah."

When I approached, he put an arm out, and wrapped it around my shoulders casually. I had to take several deep breaths to remind myself that, like he said, he's just a guy.

An attractive guy. With tattoos. And the voice of an angel.

And this wasn't a date...right? This was a transaction...right?!

Trying to shake off the thoughts, I handed him the bag on my arm.

"Your goodies."

He smiled and took the bag, looking inside. "Nice. Thank you."

I followed him into the restaurant, which didn't look too terribly fancy. We were dressed casually, as were most people here. We were sat at a small table, a little dish with butter and rolls already in the middle.

We sat down, and began scanning the menus. The prices jumped out at me as relatively expensive, and I knew I would be taking my work out again tomorrow to make back the money I would be spending tonight.

Noah ordered a beer. I ordered water.

Noah ordered a steak with linguine on the side. I ordered a salad.

This caught his attention. "You don't want more than a salad and water?"

I hid behind my glass, shrugging. "Not the most hungry."

"Hm," He sat back and eyed me. "okay. For now."

The fuck does that mean?

"So have you given any more thought to how much you want for that painting?" He spoke before I could respond.

"I haven't. I really don't know, Noah." I shook my head, thinking. "Three hundred?"

His eyes widened. "No way, man. It's worth way more."

I was dumbstruck. "Are you asking me to charge you more?"

"Fuck yeah I am. That painting is worth ten grand, at the very least."

As badly as I wanted not to, and prayed I hadn't, I spit my water out onto the table, spraying my salad. My face immediately turned bright red, matching my hair.

"Excuse me?!"

He seemed very unfazed. "What?"

"Did you say ten grand? As in ten thousand?" He nodded. "Dollars?!"

He rolled his eyes. "No. Marshmallows."

Without thought, I picked up a cherry tomato and tossed it at him, bouncing it off of his hand on his plate. He glanced up at me, mouth open, amused.

"Did you just throw a tomato at me?"

I pressed my lips together in a very small, devious grin. "Maybe."

He picked up the tomato between two long fingers, considered it for a moment, and popped it in his mouth.

"I've never had that happen. And I'm a singer."

This made me laugh. "Oh God."

He wiped his mouth on his napkin. "Seriously, though, Red. You need to price your stuff fairly. Don't accept less than what you're worth."

I leaned back in my chair, considering this. "So, you want to pay me ten thousand for my painting?"

He shook his head. "I don't." My heart sunk for a second. "My label will, though."

My eyebrows shot up. "Pardon? The label?"

He was chewing some steak, and waited to swallow before he responded. I found myself staring at the apple on his throat bobbing.

"I want that painting to be our next album cover."

I felt my jaw physically hit the floor, break through the table and all. I was hallucinating.

"You...what?"

"I've been looking for months. I had been looking at photography until very recently, because I just wasn't finding anything that worked. I started scouting art fairs and galleries almost a year ago."

My eyes were blinking at an alarming rate.

"So, that's why you came to Central Park twice, then."

He smirked, lifting the beer bottle to his lips. "That's why I came to your table twice, yes."

I was pushing my salad around on the plate, not looking at him. "Ah, and here I was thinking you came back to see me." I looked up and gave him the cheekiest smile I could, joking.

Snorting, he flashed his teeth again. "Well, that too."

My stomach stuttered, and I set my fork down. I folded my arms on the table, looking straight at him.

"You're serious? You really want my painting for the album?"

He put his hands in his sweater pockets and leaned forward, so his face was hovering over the table.

"I'm dead serious." His tongue slipped over his bottom lip, catching my attention. "There's more to it than just buying it. We'd have to purchase rights from you, so you can't sell copies."

I raised a brow, now intrigued. "Oh?"

He leaned back again. "I don't want anyone else having our original piece that you did. We would, of course, credit you on the album, and maybe even ask you to do some additional work for the rest of the art?"

There was a lump in my throat I couldn't swallow. "Rest of the art?"

"Yeah. The back of the album. The vinyl casing and variants. Merch, maybe?"

I couldn't breathe. It was so hot all of a sudden.

Noah could sense my panic. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to overwhelm you."

I gulped down half of my water at once. "No, I just..." I trailed off, staring at the tablecloth. "I've never had anyone want my artwork that bad."

He smiled. "Isn't the point to sell it? Success?"

"Well sure, but to go from selling prints and small canvasses in the parks to doing artwork for a huge band like Bad Omens? That's a bit of a step." I stared at him, trying to mask my anxiety, and failing horribly.

"I don't know if I'd call us huge." His smirk was coy, and I rolled my eyes.

"Wow. Cocky." I echoed my earlier statement, and this made him giggle like a child.

"Listen, think about it? In the meantime, can I ask a favor?" I didn't respond. "Don't sell any copies of that? Once you do, I can't use it."

I shrugged, and nodded, agreeing.

-

Two weeks had gone by, and I had not seen Noah since the night at the restaurant. I had re-covered the canvas, but the question replayed in my mind over and over.

Noah had decided to buy more pieces off of me, bringing my profits up to six hundred, which had my utilities paid this month and a small batch of groceries in the refrigerator. I agreed to ship them as soon as I could, but he kept telling me to take my time.

I knew what he really wanted to ask, but he held back.

I had thought about it over and over, trying hard to not let my bias toward Noah, or the bad, sway me.

This was a big step. Not owning my own art? Being pressured to make more that met a standard? Being under a contract? That wasn't what I got into this for. This wasn't why I became an artist and moved here. One of the best parts about creating something that you love, is that you get to do it freely. Once you have to do it, or do it a certain way, it becomes all too tedious. It's work now. I wasn't sure I'd be happy with it.

But on the flipside, there was a strange thrill at the idea. Someone wants my painting bad enough that they are willing to give me so much leeway financially, I can paint whenever I want. I'll get exposure. This could be what does it.

This painting could change everything.

And that was the point, right? I bought the canvas telling myself that this was the piece that changed it all. This was my ticket to success. And here it was, in front of me...

Ripping the sheet off of the canvas, I stared at it. The waves crashed over one another. The moon, bright, but somehow so ominous, shone through, bouncing off of the water in a way that made them look almost silver. The octopus, tentacles scattered amongst the waves, stared at me, bleeding eyes seeing through my soul.

"Is this what I'm supposed to do?" I asked the creature. I was met with silence. Loud, deafening, overwhelming silence.

"Fuck it."

I picked up my phone from the bed, bringing up my recent text thread with Noah, smiling at the meme he had sent earlier in the day.

I typed out a quick message, and sighed when I saw he read it quickly, and responded even quicker.

Me: I'm in.

Noah: Oh FUCK yeah!

-

Six months ago, I met Noah Sebastian for the first time, and he bought some of my art for a hundred dollars. Five and a half weeks ago, he bought more of my art for a hundred more dollars.

Five months ago exactly, his record label offered me twelve thousand dollars for my painting, and the rights to it, and offered me a contract to complete and provide artwork for all pieces surrounding their upcoming album, with an overall gross value of eighty-two thousand dollars to be paid up front, with the understanding that I would provide the artwork within one year of the contract signing.

Naturally, I was a mess.

Still living in my studio apartment, I had rented a painting studio six blocks from my apartment, and spent near all of my time there. I had completed the entire album artwork, maintaining the theme of the original piece, but adding in major twists in each installment.

So far, the label, the band, and mostly Noah, were pleased.

But today, I was stressed. There was one insert in the vinyl copy of the album that needed artwork. It needed a standalone piece, and I was drawing a vivid blank. I had been staring at the 3 foot by 2 foot canvas for two hours, paintbrush twirling between my paint-stained fingers. My old, ratted jeans were blotched with deep blue paint from my last attempt, which had been scrapped.

I was getting nowhere way too fast, and needed a break. I stood from my stool, and pulled my t-shirt off, standing in only my dark red sports bra to fight against the heat. I kept it warm in the studio to keep the paint from hardening in the palette.

Pacing back and forth, music pumping through my Bluetooth speaker, I sighed. I needed emotion. I needed something to throw at this damn thing, like before.

My phone quieted the music for a moment, and I snatched it to check.

Noah: In town this weekend. Want to get lunch?

As badly as I wanted to, I just couldn't.

Me: I can't. Trying to get this piece done.

Noah: Want me to bring you food? Can't paint on an empty stomach.

Considering this, I pursed my lips. He wasn't wrong.

I responded with the address to the studio.

Forty-five minutes later, and Noah was pushing his way into the small studio, bags of Chinese in his hands. I was sat on the stool, still staring at the blank canvas, twirling my brush, and didn't even look at him.

"Hey!" He set the bags down on the table on the far side of the room. "You haven't started yet?"

A hard, deep growl came out of me, and I chucked my brush at the ground, hearing it clatter. I stood, fingers gripping my hair at the root.

He threw his hands up. "Woah, it's okay! I wasn't trying to say anything to upset you."

I took a deep breath, letting go of my mop of hair. "You didn't. I'm just drawing such a fucking blank! I can't figure out what to paint for this insert!"

He tightened his lips, putting his hands in his jean pockets.

"What usually helps?"

"Anger! And I've got plenty! But I've still got fucking nothing!" My foot kicked the stool, sliding it several feel away.

He took a step forward, toward me, hands coming out in front of him.

"Okay, so anger isn't working. Any other emotions we can use?"

I raised an eyebrow, halting my pacing. "What do you mean?" My words were sharp, and he cracked an amused smile.

"You're a real fireball, clearly, Red. But, do you have other emotions we can channel?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Of course I have other emotions."

"Like?"

Suddenly feeling cornered, I squeezed my eyes closed, breathing deeply.

"I don't know." I looked up at him. "Sadness? Depression?"

He snickered. "Why all negative emotions?"

"What?"

"Why not joy? Enthusiasm? Excitement?" He looked so genuine, it almost hurt my heart, because I was so angry and it wasn't his fault.

I paced over to the stool, coming down with a screech against the floor. "Sorry." I confessed. "This is just hard to do under pressure, you know?"

He nodded, standing next to me, a soft hand coming down on my mid-back, rubbing slow circles on my bare skin.

"I get it. More than most, I think." I looked up at him. "But if what you're used to isn't working, then we have to do something different."

I scrubbed a hand over my face, and smiled weakly. "How?"

He pursed his lips, and his hand came under my arm, pulling me up from the stool. "Grab your brush."

Opting for a fresh one, I held it in front of me, and waited for further instruction.

He smiled, and put both hands on my shoulders, pulling me toward the easel and canvas. I followed absently, trying not to focus on my skin tingling where he was touching me.

"Okay," He moved behind me, pushing me closer to the canvas. "pick a color."

I chuckled, and leaned over to the palette to my right, picking up a deep navy on my brush.

Satisfied, he squeezed my biceps for a second before letting his hands fall away.

"Now, close your eyes."

I turned my head to look at him skeptically, but his eyes pleaded with me, so I obeyed, holding my loaded brush and letting my lids fall closed.

The room fell impossibly quiet, and I could feel his presence heavy behind me. The sensation brought goosebumps to my warm skin.

I was nearly startled when I felt his fingers brush my thick hair over my shoulder, and his breath came across my ear.

"Now," His voice was baritone, so raspy and so close to me. "I want you to picture what you're feeling at this very moment."

Feeling? What is feeling? Who am I ?

"Picture your emotions. Picture them as colors. Objects. Lights." He let out a deep exhale that washed over my neck, making me shiver.

"What if I can't?" My voice was small.

A large, strong hand grasped my right hip, pulling me to lean slightly backward, pressing against the front of his body.

"You can. I know you can."

The fingers of his other and were trailing up my hip, tracing patters over the tattoos on my ribcage.

"You know how to do this, Lily. Just see what you feel."

I wanted to push this. I wanted to see how far I could take it.

Eyes still closed, I let my lips turn up ever so slightly. "What if I can't feel enough, yet?"

His chest, pressed against my back, trembled with quiet laughter, "No? You need more stimulation?"

Jesus this guy's is going to murder me.

"Maybe." I smiled slyly.

His lips ghosted over the side of my neck just under my ear, his hand on my hip slipping around the front of my waist and pulling me even closer.

"What if I," His lips trailed up my skin, grazing the flesh so gently. "give you," Up to my chin. My breath was shaking. "something to feel?"

His lips were testing mine, tip of his nose bumping my own.

The lowest, most whispered moan escaped my lips before he dipped even lower, gently pressing his lips against mine. I molded to him, body encased by his arms, lips slotting into place against his, eyes rolling back behind my lids.

The feeling exploded out of me, pouring into his mouth, hands reaching up to grip his hair.

We stood there, mouths fighting for dominance, before I pulled away, pushing his hands off of me frantically, and nearly jumped toward the canvas.

I heard him breathing heavily behind me, a low chuckle erupting from him.

"I guess it worked?"

I stopped my brush strokes, turning my head and letting my hair flip over my shoulder.

"For now. Might need more stimulation later."

[calqlate]

NOVEMBER SONG

SUMMARY: Yamaguchi Tadashi always saw himself as a side character. However, there came a day whereby he did not want to live like that anymore. He wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be perhaps, loved — all because of a single person: you.

PAIRING: yamaguchi tadashi x gn! reader

GENRE(S): pining (one sided)

WC: 1559

NOTE(S): inspired by baek yerin's november song + dw it has a happy ending

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST (italicised blogs are unable to be tagged): @deeomi

Yamaguchi Tadashi was that boy: the awkward, quiet boy who sat in the corner of the classroom right next to the windows. He never spoke unless he was spoken to, and he only talked more than he needed to with Tsukishima. He was always seen by girls as Tsukishima's friend, the one that can be used as a channel to get close to the tall blonde. (Yamaguchi had always felt bad for them, because Tsukishima never paid them much attention in the first place.)

Yamaguchi always saw himself as a side character. If he were to appear in a fairytale, he would be the page boy appearing on page fifteen, or perhaps even the faceless gardener drawn in the background. For him, just being there was okay, as long as he was not disrupting the flow of anything. It was okay if Tsukishima was the focal point and he was the 'but'. As long as he was not a forgotten face, he was okay with it.

However, there came a day he did not want to live like that anymore. He wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be perhaps, loved — all because of a single person: you.

It was funny, was it not? To have lived like an extra of a major production but wanting to be noticed all of a sudden? To be the star, the protagonist, the hero? (Maybe he did not want to be the hero, per se; he just wanted to be seen as a someone for once.)

"What's wrong with you?" Tsukishima asked one day, his patented impassive, blank look still on his face, "You're happier and, I don't know... jittery, these few days."

"M-Me?" Yamaguchi stuttered, then rushed to fill in that dubious reply with a scoff, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes," the blonde sighed through his nose, "Yes, you do."

Yamaguchi did not say anything else. Arguing with his friend would not get him anywhere; Tsukishima was perpetually right all the time. Winning an argument against him would be doing the impossible. It would be akin to proving that Newton was lying when he proved that gravity exists.

So it was natural that Tsukishima was proven right once again when he caught Yamaguchi staring a tad bit too long than usual at a particular person. Tsukishima recognised them: it was [F/N] from the next-door Physics class.

"So, [F/N]?" Tsukishima said after class, a hint of mischief in his golden-brown eyes.

Yamaguchi immediately turned a few shades darker of red, wishing he could disappear into his hair or thin air, he did not mind which.

"You can't be just simply staring at them, you know," the taller male said with a little sigh, "They won't be able to notice you that way."

"I just don't want to embarrass myself," the freckled male said meekly, then added in a softer voice, "I'm just... me. There's nothing special about me."

"No, there is," Tsukishima said, "There are things about you that make you special."

There was a brief pause as Tsukishima frowned, before he elaborated, "Being caring, for instance, and being nice. Not everyone has a soft heart like you, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi's jaw fell slightly, and he stared at his friend with wide eyes. Tsukishima had never really complimented him before, so this was something new and big. Monumental, even.

He smiled, "Thanks, Tsukki."

Catching a person's attention, however, proved to be difficult. He did not know how Tsukishima managed to do it, but he was surely envious of whatever the blonde had that he himself was lacking in. However, he thought of a plan that he found always proved to be successful in almost every drama his mother watched.

"[F/N]?" he said one day as he approached you, your name rolling off his lips easily yet oddly, like it was meant to be.

You quirked an eyebrow up at him, beckoning him to continue.

"I-I was wondering if you'd like to study together," he said, stuttering unintentionally at the start, to which he mentally berated and kicked himself for, "Additional Mathematics, especially. I can't quite grasp linear law." That was a lie; he was rather good at Additional Mathematics, and his best topic was linear law.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, "But aren't you good in Additional Mathematics?"

He winced internally. Drat, he was caught. Time to deploy Plan B.

"I was thinking it could be more of a revision session," he said before any doubts could cross your mind, "I can't prepare with Tsukki either; he has tuition classes."

"Oh, okay," you said, shrugging your shoulders slightly, "How does Saturday afternoon sound?"

"Sounds good," he said, smiling and hoping it did not look too creepy or off-putting in any way (because God forbid he scared you off after his very first interaction with you), "We'll do that."

The revision sessions did prove to help; Yamaguchi got closer to you. Perhaps it was even a little too fast-paced than he originally thought it would be, since he clearly did not plan too far ahead when he realised a harmless little crush turned into a full-blown and slightly dangerous love. Every little accidental touch sent both of your hands jerking away from each other, every slightly prolonged glance sent both of your cheeks burning whenever they were caught, and every smile set both of your hearts pounding furiously against both of your ribcages.

"You're in love with them," Tsukishima blurted out one day during lunch, which caused Yamaguchi to choke on his rice.

"W-What?" he said as he pounded on his chest, looking at Tsukishima with wide eyes, similar to that of a fish's.

"[F/N]," Tsukishima said casually, picking a cherry tomato from his lunchbox with his chopsticks.

Yamaguchi covered his face in his hands, "Is it really that obvious?"

"Anyone would know," Tsukishima said plainly, "It's that obvious."

A pause followed as Tsukishima chewed on the cherry tomato, then, "Aren't you going to confess?"

"M-Me? Confess?" Yamaguchi stuttered as he dropped his hands to his sides, "It's not that easy, you know!"

"What century are you living in, Yamaguchi?" Tsukishima asked with a snort before closing his lunchbox, "It doesn't matter who asks the other person out. Anyway—" — The blonde paused and stared at his friend before continuing — "Don't you want to make a lasting impression on them?"

Yamaguchi bit his lower lip. He was never one to be macho or manly in any way. He was the shy and gentle guy; he would be a stammering mess with pink-tinted cheeks. However, Tsukishima had raised a valid point. It was time to "man up", like Tanaka-senpai had always said, and make the first move, like chess.

Tsukishima stood up, taking his lunchbox with him.

"Be confident," Tsukishima said, patting the dark green-haired male on the shoulder before walking off, "I know you can do it."

And so he did; he puffed his chest out and summoned every ounce of willpower he had to brave through the confession, to enunciate his words clearly without hesitation.

He expected rejection. Which person, in their right mind, would say yes?

Apparently, you were that person, which pleasantly surprised him.

He always wondered, what exactly did you see in him that made you agree? He hoped you were not just doing it out of pity, or worse, using him to get close to Tsukishima. (A lot of people liked Tsukki better than the plain old Yamaguchi anyway.)

However, you always reassured him gently, all while taking his hands, that you did it because you reciprocated his feelings. You were not lying to him in any way, neither did your actions have any underlying meaning. You were willing to be together with him, to be his other half, to be the one supporting him at one hundred percent.

Whenever he felt down, whenever he felt useless, whenever he felt like the world was against him for some unknown and odd reason, you were always there to give a hug, to tell him that everything was going to be alright, and that you were physical proof that you were there and would not be going anywhere. It was during times like these that Yamaguchi knew for sure that this love was meant to be his and it was uniquely his, that a bond like this would never come again in his entire lifetime.

Even if this love was broken, trampled on, and tested, it would never fade. Both of you would always come back together, like unlike poles, the right puzzle pieces filling in the gaps.

Maybe this love was not romantic according to society's standards, but that was okay. It was the bond and overwhelming feelings that words could not describe make this love special, one that cannot be recreated.

He hoped he could be the one for you, too: the shoulder you could cry on, the first person you would share good news with, the Mr. Right in your happily ever after. That future was close in reach, but he did not know that. For now, he was content with the way he lived with you, and that was perfectly fine.

As long as the two of you were connected, like two single lines diverged together into one, everything will be fine.

[thomotomo]

Callum turner x reader, something about going to a festival (like glastonbury) WOULD BE SO NICE IVE LOOKED FOREVER TO find SOMETHING ABOUT HIM

maybe a late night drive ANYTHING U WANT REALLY

Hello mate! I hope you enjoy this, I was inspired then halfway it stopped but I still hope you find this enjoyable <3 And thank you for requesting it! ^-^ Don't hesitate to reblog, leave a comment and/or a Kofi if you did and take care!

Callum had really looked forward to this. After spending months abroad, filming new projects, unable to spend some quality time with you. He had told his agents he was taking some time off and not to contact him. It had been a few years since he also had been able to attend the Glastonbury festival and he was ecstatic to attend it once again.

He had reserved the tickets with the knowledge that nothing would stop him to have a wonderful time with you at his sides. The excitement stopped him from sleeping more than he usually would when he had some free time, so he laid there, looking at your muscled back that was facing him, counting the moles and watching it rise and fall. As you were still deeply asleep, he wrapped an arm around your waist and nuzzled your neck, breathing in your natural scent.

After laying here for who knows how long, he felt you stirring up and he chuckled, tickling you and making you chuckle too.

“Good morning love…”

“Mmh…How long have you been up Cal…?”, your morning voice was rough and it stirred up something in his belly.

“Don’t bother yourself with such trivial matters. It’s time for us to have fun~”

“Mmh… Bring me hot-choc and we’ll discuss about it.”

He chuckled as you buried your head in the pillows, hiding yourself from the outside world. Callum decided to leave the bed so he could bring you your hot chocolate and correctly wake up. He walked, chuckling as he heard you groan, surely you were gathering the duvet and burrowing yourself inside of it, trying to keep yourself warm and probably wishing to be able to hibernate.

Callum heated the milk, preparing his coffee at the same time. Once each mug was filled with each of your morning drinks he walked back up to the bedroom, chuckling softly as he saw that on the bed there was only a duvet mass. He put the mugs on the night table and gently put a hand on where he supposed your body was and gently shook.

“Hey… I brought you your hot chocolate. Come on Y/N, get out of here.”

You groaned and popped your head out of the covers and your eyes shined as they zeroed on your favourite mug. Callum chuckled and you pretty quickly left the comfort of your warm blanket to seat next to him and started drinking your hot chocolate. The morning was spent very slowly, despite Callum being definitely more energized that you were he took things to your pace.

Once you were properly woken up you put on your clothes and finished packaging your bag for the whole duration of the festival. As soon as you finished preparing Callum excitedly dragged you to the car, you didn’t really trust him to drive in his overexcited state so you went behind the wheel and started to drive as he immediately started the radio.

After a three hour drive you finally reached the place of the festival and immediately Callum jumped out, took the backpack and looked back at you, looking ecstatic and you couldn’t help but look at him fondly as you put on your glasses,  the sun being uncharacteristically present in this part of England. Your boyfriend laced your hands together, looking for the VIP line, checking in and going to your tent to put your stuff down. The two of you laid down on the bed and Callum went over the program of the week-end, noting down every single thing he wanted to do. And well, you, you were just happy to be able spend some time together so you laid there as he rambled, counting the freckles on his face. Your boyfriend looked back at you with a grin, he proudly showed you the list he had narrowed down.

The next day, early and bright in the morning, Callum woke you up, seemingly already ready to spend the whole day dancing. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his excitement, for the past year he had been waiting for this festival and you were glad you could enjoy this with him. You put on your clothes and followed him to go out and eat breakfast. Callum rambled about tonight’s stages and you were excited to dance the night away with him.

The two of you spend majority of the day walking around, taking notes of how far each stage were from each other and just enjoying the English sun hitting your skin and warming yourself in a nice way. Before the first concert you were going to attend, Adam Shelton’s, the two of you ate a copious meal and drank some cocktails before completely letting go and going forward to enjoy your night.

Sadly for the both of you, the weekend went by at super-speed and before you knew it, it was Monday and you had to go back home, but luckily you still had plenty of time to enjoy together. When putting your bag in the car Callum sighed, he had thoroughly enjoyed the weekend and he had spent it dancing so he was rather sore after all this exercise.

As you were driving back, he quickly fell asleep and you couldn’t help but stop at a station to take a picture or two of him sleeping, mouth hanging wide open. You bought some snacks for the rest of the road and once you arrived in front of the house you gently shook him awake. You watched him groaning and trying to fold on himself to go back to sleep, not unlike you a few days ago.

“C’mon sleepyhead, let’s take a bath and you can nap once again. You’ll be more at ease in bed.”

He begrudgingly followed you and you immediately started a bath, going in first, so he could seat between you legs to chill during the cleaning. You smiled gently kissing his slightly tanned back, trying to count the freckles that weren’t previously here. Slowly you helped him cleaning out his bad and after half an hour of chilling the bathtub with his head laid back on your shoulder.

You helped him get into bed and laid down with him, legs tangling together as you wrapped an arm around his waist. He sleepily gave you a quick peck and whispered to you in his scratchy half-asleep voice.

“Thank you for coming with me. It was really fun…”

“Don’t worry Cal I also enjoyed it.”

The two of you laid here, looking at each other, being disgustingly in love and quickly fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

[kiszka-jake]

Road Not Taken: Chapter 3

Jake’s POV- October 2023

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and shifted my eyes to glance at Katie in the passenger seat. She had her window down and the crisp fall air was blowing her hair around. She was squinting in the sun with a small smile on her face. I wonder if she was thinking of all the times we drove around like this. She felt my eyes on her and looked over at me with her smile still in place. 

“I can’t believe you invited yourself to lunch, and convinced me to ride with you.” 

I felt the buzz I always used to get around her slowly creeping back in as I responded, “I just figured you probably missed hanging out with me.”

She shook her head and turned to look out the window at all the places we grew up going to. Every time I’ve been back to this town in the last 5 years, I’ve thought of her. There’s not one place we didn’t go to or have a memory in. Her ghost is always waiting for me around every corner. Part of the reason I avoid coming back here. 

I cleared my throat and hesitated before I spoke up again, “You know, I got the idea for that line in Flower Power on one of our car rides like this.” She kept looking out the window and ignored me,“The star shines in her eyes line.” I stammered. 

I saw the pink flush she always hated creeping up her cheeks. 

“I always liked that line” she mumbled while avoiding my gaze. We pulled into the parking lot and she quickly hopped out of the car to avoid any more conversation with me. I sat silently in the restaurant and enjoyed the familiar presence of the four of us again. She has a genuine and natural way of interacting with my brothers that I’ve never been able to replicate with any other girl. I can never tell who’s just using me and sometimes I’m okay with that. Other times, it leaves me longing for something real. 

“We should order the stuffed mushrooms to start. Weren’t those always your favorite?” Sam asked Katie. 

She scrunched her freckled nose and shook her head. “I wish. I used to love them, but I haven’t been able to stomach them since I got sick after having them when I was pregnant.” 

Josh and Sam already moved on from her comment and were back to flipping through the menu. I couldn’t move past it. 

“How did you decide to keep it?” I asked her.

Her head shot up from her menu as she looked at me with a confused look. 

“Lyla. How did you decide you wanted to keep her.”

Josh kicked me under the table, but I ignored him.

“Hey, listen you don’t have to answer him. He shouldn’t have asked that.” Josh interjected while glaring at me. 

She waved her hand to brush him off and locked eyes with me. 

“It’s okay. I guess we don’t really know each other anymore,so it’s normal to have questions.” Her fingers traced the edge of her menu while she kept her eyes on mine, “I don’t really know honestly. It just felt right.” 

I blinked to get a moment of relief from her piercing green eyes that could always tell what I was thinking. 

“Even though you knew you’d have to do it alone?” 

“Yes. I knew I could do it.” Her face was hard and her voice steady. 

We stared at each other in silence as I took in her words. I knew I shouldn’t say my next thought, but it came tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Well, it seems like a dumb decision since you didn’t graduate from Harvard. That was your dream. That’s all you cared about.” 

Josh kicked me even harder under the table as her eyes started to well up with tears. She fought them off as she answered me.

“I’ve never regretted Lyla for one second. She’s amazing and special in so many ways that you’ll never understand.” She said it quickly while pushing her chair back from the table and walked quickly to the restroom. 

I watched her go until the door closed, and turned to find Josh and Sam both staring at me with stunned expressions. 

“Are you trying to make her hate you again? I think it’s working.” Sam said with an eye roll as he flagged down our waiter. 

Katie’s POV- October 2023

My hands were gripping the edge of the porcelain sink as I stared at myself in the dirty  mirror. I don’t know why I thought I could handle hanging out with Jake again. Or any of them. It was insane to think I could talk freely about our daughter with him. Our daughter. She’s his too. My fingers wrapped around the sink even tighter at the thought. Sam and Josh are her uncles. They’re the family I know she longs for even if she cant articulate it yet. 

I pulled my phone out and stared at the Lock Screen. It’s a selfie she took of us at the park last week. I looked at her perfect heart shaped face and saw the entire Kiszka family in it. Her big smile that looks just like Jake’s. Her perfectly pink lips that look just like Josh’s. Her brown eyes that are shaped exactly like Sam’s. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I stared at the picture. She’s half me too. Everything she knows is what I taught her. Her loud and wild spirit, her kindness. It all comes from me. 

I slid the phone back in my pocket and took one last look in the mirror while giving myself a fake smile. I walked back to the table with the tiniest amount of pride left and immediately started talking to Josh about his life to change the subject. He was waving his hands around and happily explaining to me how they play arenas now and people come from all over to see them. I was nodding along to his story, but my eyes still slid over to look at Jake. 

He had his hand on Josh’s shoulder and was agreeing with whatever he said. He was even more beautiful than he used to be. His hair was just a little longer, his jaw a little more angular. Josh said something that suddenly made him burst out laughing and flash his signature smile with all his teeth showing. I felt my breath catch as I pictured Lyla again. 

They spent the rest of the lunch telling me stories of all their adventures and accomplishments. Every story left me with a sense of awe that the boys I grew up with could do all of that. When it was time to go, Jake finally spoke to me again.

“Do you want me to take you back to your parents?” His tone was cautious and filled with a hint of apology for what he said earlier. We didn’t need to discuss it again. We can just add it to the list of things we’re both sorry for. 

I glanced at Josh and Sam who were walking just a little bit ahead of us on the cracked parking lot pavement. He followed my gaze and spoke again. “Or you can ride with them.” 

I wanted to tell him no and run after his brothers, but my brain couldn’t catch up with my mouth. 

“No, you can take me.”

He smiled a little to himself as we walked to his black Jeep. He turned the radio up on our favorite rock station and I felt myself relax as he curved around the backroads. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend we were still high schoolers and not two adults running from our past. 

He pulled up in front of my house to my dad  kicking around a soccer ball with Lyla. I grabbed the door handle to jump out and say my final goodbye to him for the next ten years, but suddenly he was opening his door too.

“Uh what are you doing.” I asked.

He smirked at me and continued to get out of the car. 

“Well, you ignored me yesterday so I didn’t get to really hang out with the miniature version of you.” 

I could feel my heart beating faster as I hurried around to the front of the jeep to intercept him. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this possibility when I agreed to the ride. 

“It’s okay really. You don’t have to pretend to be interested in my life still.” 

I think I almost had him convinced, but my dad chose that exact moment to wave and yell his name. 

He smiled and waved back and excitedly slammed his door. He walked closer to me and grabbed my hand to drag me along. 

“Well, I can’t ignore your dad.” He said with an incredulous tone. 

Jake’s POV- October 2023

I can’t believe I just grabbed her hand. My pulse is racing, but it’s like no time has passed at all. Her hand naturally relaxed in mine as she lagged a couple steps behind me. Lyla was bouncing up and down and ran over to her when we got closer. She dropped my hand to scoop her up in a hug. Why am I disappointed that she dropped my hand? 

“You gave me the doggy.��� Lyla said in that squeaky voice all little kids have. 

I shoved my hands in my pockets to erase the empty feeling they had. 

“Yep, I sure did.” 

She wiggled out of Katie’s arms and came to stand in front of me. She really did look just like Katie up close. They have the same heart shaped face,same brown hair with golden flecks in the sun. The only indication that someone else was involved in creating her is her brown eyes. She put her hand on her hips and looked up at me just like Katie used to when I annoyed her. 

“How do you know my mommy?” 

I bent down to her level and stuck out of my hand. 

“I’m Jake. I’m your mommy’s friend. We met when we were your age.” 

She giggled and grabbed my hand, but quickly frowned at the roughness. 

“I play a lot of guitar.” I said as an explanation.

Her tiny face broke out in a huge smile as she whipped her brown curls around to face Katie. 

“Maybe he knows my daddy!” She shouted while bouncing on the tips of her pink converse. 

She whipped back around to face me, “Mommy always says my daddy is going to teach me how to play guitar.” 

I smiled at her and glanced up at Katie. “Wow, you just replaced me with another musician?” 

Her cheeks had their familiar pink flush as she stuck her hand out towards Lyla. Lyla slipped her hand into hers as they started to walk up towards the two story brick house. Lyla turned to wave at me as Katie finally spoke. “Hes a better player than you.” 

Damn, it’s still hot when she fucks with me. 

I watched them walk inside, oblivious to the fact that her dad was still there. 

“I’m glad you guys are hanging out again,” He said as he clamped his hand on my shoulder. 

I felt myself tense up on reflex like I was still in high school and he was giving me the curfew.

“It’s more like I forced myself into hanging out with her.” I replied as I slipped my sunglasses back on and reached into my pocket for the car keys. I raised my hand in a mock salute and turned towards the jeep when he interjected.

“I hate to ask this…” 

I paused and turned back around the face him. He looked a little embarrassed and I got a sick satisfaction out of having something he seemingly wants. 

“Lyla, really wants to know how to play guitar.” He shrugged his shoulders and sighed when he said it. “We still have one of your old guitars in the basement. I was thinking maybe you could show her a couple things.” 

A slow smile broke out across my face as I realized this would get me more time with Katie. I would never say no to him, but maybe I can get a little more information to use to my advantage first.

“Her dad doesn’t want to teach her?” I posed the question and studied his face for the answer. His face flashed with disappointment and a hint of anger. 

“She’s never met her dad.” He replied. “Katie said they just had a class together and in the end he didn’t want a baby.” 

“Yeah that’s what Kate told us, but I figured he had at least met her.” I said. 

He shook his head and gave me a sad look. 

I shoved the car keys back in my jeans pocket and started walking up the grass to the house. 

“I never really liked any of those Harvard douche bags anyways.” I said with a smirk as I passed him.

I felt a piece of the same anger that he had. Katie was my girlfriend for years, but she was my best friend first. She didn’t deserve to be treated like shit and I feel like I have the right to be defensive on her behalf still. She would probably disagree and say she can take care of herself. 

I turned the door knob and entered the familiar living room. The bright white walls, the faded green couch, the dark wood floors. The sound of my boots were muffled by the worn rug as I rounded the corner to the basement steps. I made my way down and turned the light on to illuminate our old hang out spot. Everything looked frozen in time and my old guitar was still on the stand in the corner. 

I wrapped my hand around the neck and headed back upstairs. I could hear Katie’s laugh coming from her bedroom. Why does being back in her house and hearing her laugh fill me with anxiety? I can play to 20,000 people and be less nervous. I tightened my grip on the guitar and felt myself relax a little. 

They were on the floor playing with Barbie’s when I entered the doorway. Lyla looked up from her half dressed doll and smiled while Katie gave me a confused look. Her gaze stopped on the guitar on my hand as she opened her mouth.

“Uh did you come to give us a private concert…?” She asked.

I ignored her question as my eyes wandered the room. The same purple walls and matching bedspread. The first Greta Van Fleet poster Josh ever drew was still taped on her closet door next to pictures of us at the lake. The memories of us growing up together are all immortalized in this room. 

I cleared my throat and looked back at her on the floor where she was waiting for my response.  Odds of her telling me to leave were pretty high, so I decided to hedge my bets and talk to Lyla. She can’t tell me to leave once she’s excited. 

“Your grandpa told me you wanted to learn guitar.” I said to her as I slid down on the floor next to them. Her face immediately lit up and she started squealing in excitement.

I chuckled a little as I took in her response.”I guess that would be a yes.” I said as I started tuning the guitar. Katie gave me a disapproving look. I raised my hands in mock surrender and she sighed and busied herself the dolls scattered on the floor. 

“Alright,” I said as I finished tuning. “This is a little big for you, but you can still learn the basics.” I flipped the guitar around and placed it on Lyla’s lap. Her face peered over the top as she tried to unsuccessfully wrap her fingers around the neck. 

Her brown eyes were staring at me and I saw the question forming before she opened her mouth.

“How do I know you can play guitar?” She asked with a concerned look on her face. 

Katie tried to stifle a laugh as I looked at her with a stunned expression. I took the guitar back from Lyla and started absentmindedly strumming chords. 

“I didn’t know 4 year olds spoke in fully formed sentences.” I said to Katie. 

“I’m almost 5.” Lyla quickly said with a hint of attitude. 

“She started talking on her 1st birthday and hasn’t stopped since.” Katie replied as she tugged on one of Lyla’s curls and looked at her proudly. Lyla nodded along in agreement and said “My teacher always tells me I’m smart.”

I shook my head and smiled at her as I kept strumming the guitar. Playing makes me relaxed and seeing Katie with Lyla is somehow making me want her more. “That makes sense considering your mom is a genius.” I said while locking eyes with Katie. She flashed me a polite smile and leaned back against the bed behind her. 

“To answer your question,” I began again as I looked back at Lyla,” I learned to play guitar when I was your age and I’m in a band.” I jerked my chin towards to poster on the wall. “That band actually.” She whipped her head around to look at the poster and then back at me. She shrugged her shoulders and seemed to be satisfied with my answer. 

I placed the guitar back on her lap and placed her glitter painted fingers on the frets. “So now you just take your other hand and go like this.” I said as I ran her hand down the strings. She beamed at Katie as the sound of the chord filled the room. 

“I did it mommy!” She exclaimed as she strummed up and down again. I sat back and took in her excitement. I glanced over at Katie to see she had her phone out recording her. I leaned back into the frame and faced the camera, “And that was the Jake Kiszka guitar tutorial.” I said as I pointed at the camera.

Katie let out a laugh as she lowered the phone. The first real laugh I’d earned from her in years. Lyla was busy plucking different strings when Katie scooted over and put her arm around my neck in a half hug. 

“Thank you.” She said quietly as she pulled back from me and started playing with Lyla. My body was still tingling from her touch as I watched the flush creeping up her cheeks. 

“Mommy?” Lyla suddenly said ending our moment. “Can Jake come to my birthday party tomorrow?” 

Katie seemed to snap back to her reality of hating me as she struggled to find an excuse. 

I pushed up off the grey carpet and turned to head towards the door.

“I have to leave to go to see some family now, but tomorrow I’m all yours.” I said. Lyla smiled happily and jumped up to hug me. I patted the top of her head, not really sure how to interact with kids. “It’s a date.” I said with a wink to Katie as I backed out her room towards the steps. 

Katie’s POV- October 2023

“Okay Lyla, we’re ready for the reveal!” Grace yelled into the hallway. I could hear Lyla’s giggle as she started to push the door open.

“Tada!” She yelled as she threw her arms up and posed. My mom took her shopping and let her pick out a special birthday outfit. She twirled around in a pink glittery dress, rainbow glitter converse and a princess tiara. 

I knelt down and pulled her into a hug and rocked her back and forth. “You look absolutely beautiful, Ly,” I pulled back and held her out at arms length. “You definitely look like a five year old now.” 

She was giddy with the thought of the cake and presents that would be coming her way today. She gave me her big smile as she started to turn away. “I’m gonna go show grandpa!” She yelled as she ran down the steps. 

“That was such a Josh way to pose.” Grace said as she flipped back on my childhood bed. I laid next to her and we stared at the ceiling in silence. 

“God, they’re all in every part of her.” I whispered  to Grace as I watched the ceiling fan spin. Her long blonde hair splayed out around her as she turned her head to look at me. 

“And every part of you raised her.” She said as she reached for my hand to squeeze it. 

•••••••••••••

Lyla skipped ahead through the glass doors and we were sucked into the commotion of the bowling alley. I had my fifth birthday party here, so it was fitting for Lyla to do the same. She was being greeted by all of family members that came to celebrate her when he walked in. 

He smiled and waved at me as he made his way over to our lane. He was dressed way too cool for a 5th birthday party in Michigan. He had on dark jeans, a navy button down that was only half done, scuffed black boots, an excessive amount of necklaces and dark sunglasses that probably made it look like it was midnight inside. 

“This is definitely the best party I’ve been to all year.” He said when he reached me. 

I sank down into one the plastic chairs and rolled my eyes in response. “Yes, I’m sure all the Hollywood parties are very lame.” I said. 

He pulled out the chair next to me and looked around at the other tables filled with my family members. If any of them noticed his presence, they didn’t acknowledge it. It actually seemed like they were actively avoiding coming over to us. Probably my dad stopping everyone so we could talk. He couldn’t stop going on about how great Jake is last night. 

“I hate LA,” He said while pulling an envelope out of his pocket, “and this is for Lyla.” 

I took the envelope out of his hand and lifted the flap to look inside. It contained a glittery princess birthday card and $500. 

I looked at him with a stunned expression, but couldn’t read his with the sunglasses still on.

“Ok, first of all you need to take off the sunglasses. We’re in Frakenmuth.” I said with a hint of disbelief. 

A smile was playing on his perfect lips as he reached up to remove them and shove them in his shirt pocket. “So what’s the second thing?” He asked.

I held up the card as an explanation. He blinked and started speaking slowly. 

“Does she not like princesses? I just assumed…” he said as his voice trailed off. 

I rolled my eyes at his attempt to play dumb. “Who gives a five year old five hundred dollars, Jake?” 

A laugh escaped his lips as he took the card back from me and opened it. He grabbed 4 of the bills and handed it back to me with one left inside.

“I figured I’d give her a hundred bucks for every year, but you can just give her this then.” He said as an explanation. 

I can’t tell if he’s trying to show off how rich he is now or if he’s just that oblivious. He fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist and I watched the muscles in his hand twitch as we sat in silence. Lyla was rolling a bowling bowl down the lane with my grandpa when he spoke up.

“Listen, I really just came here to ask you to come to our show tomorrow,” his jaw was tense and he was looking at me intently to study my reaction to his words, “it’s in Detroit. I have to rehearse in the morning, but we can hang out tomorrow before the show.”

I immediately start shaking my head no and opened my mouth to reject him. “Jake. We can’t“

He had a pleading look on his face as he cut me off, “Please don’t say no. The guys miss you, and it would be fun.” 

I shook my head again and looked over at Lyla to avoid his gaze. “We can’t just hang out and pretend again. I’m sorry Jake.”

I felt his hand on my arm and I shifted my eyes to look at his beautiful face that was practically begging me to say yes. 

“Are you waiting for me to say sorry still? If I do that, will you come?” His question came out as a whisper that I barely heard above the noise of pins falling.

I moved my arm over so his fingers fell to the table. “I think you should just go. Thank you for the card. I’ll tell Lyla you said bye.” I said it quickly to get it all out before I changed my mind. He tapped his ring on the metal table and scooted the chair back. I kept my eyes forward, but still felt him standing over me. He paused for a moment a like he was going to say something else before he finally turned and walked away. 

••••••

Chapter 4 goes CRAZY. Trust.

tag: @fleetingjake @hollyco @sammysstolenbirks