#i want something fancier than a pencil
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sheos-silliest-soldier · 3 months ago
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i was going to make that notebook for my morrowind playthrough, but got distracted by my sheogorath face pyramid project and making a hair stick. so. uh. behold the stick
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official-crab-posts · 9 months ago
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come get your very own crab drawing!
hi everyone! if you follow me i'm sure you have seen me reblog lots of posts about what's happening in palestine. i personally don't have a lot of money to donate, so this is what i've decided to do:
if you send me proof that you have donated to any of the organizations listed below the cut, i will draw a silly little crab for you!
here are some examples and how much to donate for each kind of crab.
for only $1 USD a friend like this could be yours!
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for $3 USD:
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for $5 USD you can have something a little fancier:
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if you donate more than $5, you can choose between multiple crabs or one even nicer crab! this can be sorted out on a case-by-case basis.
for donations over $30 USD, i will paint a watercolor crab for you!
some organizations to donate to and further details about getting your very own shitty crab drawing are below the cut! free palestine!
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here is a list of organizations and groups you can donate to:
palestine children's relief fund
medical aid for palestinians
palestine red crescent society
mutual aid diabetes- help diabetics in gaza (any of the gofundmes listed on their page)
esims for gaza (this post has some helpful info about donating an esim!)
feminine hygiene kits for gaza
and here are a few more basic details:
the crabs can have no color, or the color can be your choice between pen and colored pencil. you can pick any color, i just used red and blue for these ones because that's what i felt like doing.
please give me at least a day to get you your crab drawing! i am in school and pretty busy, so there might be things that get in the way, but i will get them done as fast as i can :]
i did not post an example of a painting i have done because the ones i have are also on my main account and i'd like to try to keep them separate, but if you want an example just message me and i can show you! and if you do figure out who i am just don't go shouting it from the rooftops, okay?
if you prefer i don't post your crab and/or tag you, just let me know and i won't :]
i've never sold any kind of art before so please be patient, i'm sure there will be some things i have to sort out.
i will update this post if/as necessary :]
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Civilian AU - Is this a date?
I wrote this back in May for @glitterypirateduck 's #GhostChallenge, so I recommend you to read it first.
And since then I've been heckled and harassed to keep writing about this stupid small little AU
So blame this foolishness on @sofasoap @eenochian and @nrdmssgs thank you very much
Small explanation: All of the characters are civilians at the moment this is happening, but the boys had a military past. They just retired already and are inserted into civilian life.
Edit: Fuck I forgot. The fake texts were made by @eenochian ❤️ thank you so much
The house was fancier than he had expected. A quaint little townhouse, in a quiet street. Fancy.
So quiet that he could even park right by the small stairs leading to the quaint patio.
Simon sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, thinking what the fuck was he doing there in that neighbourhood. Why that pretty little thing went out of her way to keep going to his shop was beyond him. Sure there were other butcher’s around.
But his mum’s nagging voice was still ringing in his ears, as it had been since the day she last came into the shop and he offered the bones for the dogs at the shelter.
I didn’t raise you to be this daft!
Well. Surely she didn’t raise him to be a coward either.
Simon grabbed the bag of bones from the boot of his car and locked it, before heading towards the door. He’d knock, enjoy her pretty face and beautiful eyes, maybe he’d even get one of those shy smiles that made his knees weak and his jeans tight, and then he’d be on his merry way.
Faint TV sounds from behind the door. He looked around the small patio, with three identical doors, and then knocked on hers.
~
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~
Christine tossed her phone on the desk and sighed deeply while rushing to the door. She had been working on some papers for the museum that she was behind schedule on, in the small room by the front door that she had furnished as her office.
And her cats’ dwelling.
She looked briefly at herself on the entry hall’s mirror and almost scoffed. She looked like a mess. Messy hair in a low bun, kept in place with a pencil, dark leggings and a simple oversized sweater. The idea was at least to look presentable when he called beforehand to set a time, but she got too caught up with the paperwork.
Fucking sexy, Vega, you idiot.
Unable to come up with an excuse to disappear and not face him, Christine opened the door before he had the opportunity to knock again and smiled.
Fuck, she could feel her ears and cheeks burning.
‘‘Hi, beautiful’’ Simon offered her one of his usual lopsided smiles, and her heart started beating faster.
If anyone asked (and her friends definitely had asked) why she had such a huge crush on the butcher, not even her could explain it. He wasn’t definitely magazine cover worthy (but he was good-looking. At least to her). He had some facial scars that some people might have found unsettling. He was tall and looked strong, with broad shoulders and a broad back, and…
Focus.
‘‘Hi, handsome’’ What the fuck. Why did she say that??
To her surprise, he blushed. His ears turned as red as hers surely were, and there was a bit of blush on his cheeks and nose that for some reason made her heartbeat quieten.
If he was as nervous as her, that surely meant something, right?
‘‘Brought you the bones’’ Simon lifted the bag with one hand, effortlessly, although it seemed bigger than she had expected. ‘‘Bag’s heavy. You might want help to bring it to the… Oi, boy, where are you going?’’
He laughed, looking down, and Christine followed his gaze just in time to see, and feel, an orange furry form trying to scurry out of the door, only to be stopped by a big black boot.
‘‘Orion!’’ She gasped, and bent down to pick the cat up, feeling the cuddly creature start purring right away and nuzzle his head into her neck. ‘‘I’m so sorry, he has no sense of danger, and loves exploring’’
‘‘It’s ok, luv’’ Now it was his turn to feel smug with the way she blushed, trying to hide it while dealing with the furry feline, who was twisting like a noodle in her arms, purring like an engine. ‘‘Looks young’’
‘‘Around nine months, or so the shelter said’’ Christine huffed when Orion licked her nose, and tried to hold a sneeze in. It’d be absolutely great if she up and sneezed all over Simon’s black button down shirt. ‘‘Nobody wanted him because he’s a handful and a rascal’’
‘‘Bullshit’’ Simon shook his head, and reached out to gently scratch Orion’s ears, and the cat immediately bumped its head into the palm of his hand, nuzzling. ‘‘He’s a good boy’’
‘‘Do you like cats?’’ Christine smiled, seeing how her kitty seemed to not be scared in the slightest of Simon’s big hand almost engulfing his head.
‘‘Yeah. Dogs too’’ He shrugged, wondering to himself if he had scored some points, given the way her eyes lit up. Those beautiful blue eyes would be the death of him. He already saw them in his sleep, as an anchor among the nightmares. ‘‘I like animals better than people’’
‘‘So do I’’
They stood there, like two idiots while the cat purred into Simon’s palm. A not so distant horn honked in one of the neighbouring streets and startled them.
‘‘Well’’ Come on, Riley, out with it, you idiot.
‘‘Well’’ Oh, God, I’m such an idiot. He’s dressed nicely, surely he has a date lined up already. ‘‘I… I guess you have to go…’’
Simon swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down and for some reason it hurt. Why was he so nervous? He used to be able to chat girls up, long ago. It had been a long time, and a long time since he had felt something that gnawed at him like… longing. Need. Something raw and desperate and that was clawing at his insides.
‘‘I… saw a nice pub down the street. Within walking distance’’ Shit shit shit.
Christine blinked, looking up at him while holding the cat, trying to avoid a paw in her mouth.
‘‘Uh… I think it’s called The Plump Cod? I pass by it almost every day. Nice food’’
‘‘I was thinking… maybe you’d… fancy a drink?’’ Simon rubbed the back of his head, praying to God he just felt like he was sweating and not actually sweating the nice shirt that Tommy had lent him with the promise of telling him absolutely everything.
‘‘With you…?’’ God, the way she looked at him. He wanted to believe that she looked hopeful, with her beautiful blue eyes open wide, and that shy, sweet smile that had ruined him the first day she stepped into the shop with Freya.
He found himself nodding like a fool. Johnny and Kyle would have a field day if they saw him. He’d never live it down.
‘‘With me. If you’re not busy or… or you have plans’’
‘‘I only need fifteen or twenty minutes to change’’ Christine smiled, feeling like she was floating. No way. No way he had just asked out. God, the girls wouldn’t believe it. Oh God, they’d be insufferable.
‘‘Change?’’ Simon looked puzzled, and for the first time he seemed to take in what she was wearing. Dark leggings and an oversized jumper that obviously had seen better days, clawed and covered in cat hair. ‘‘Well, I don’t think they’d be happy at the pub, but you look good’’
‘‘Don’t be stupid’’ She stepped inside and held the door open, keeping Orion in her arms, and giggled. With one of those shy giggles that he had learned to cherish, each time he could drag one out of her. So different from the way he had seen her laugh with Freya or Johnny. ‘‘Wait inside, and while you’re at it, could you put those bones in the fridge? Kitchen is on the right, living room and office on the left’’
Simon stepped inside her home, ducking by instinct just in case. It wouldn’t be the first time he hit his forehead against the lintel. He looked around briefly to get his bearings, closing the door, while Christine left the orange cat on the floor and headed to the stairs.
‘‘Oh, by the way’’ She turned at the foot of the staircase, excited and nervous. ‘‘I have another cat, Polgara… Miss Pol. She’s most likely napping on one of the armchairs. I’ll be right back’’
‘‘Promise?’’ He teased with a chuckle, and his smile widened when he saw her blush again and nod, scurrying upstairs like a excited squirrell.
Sighing deeply and trying to calm his own nerves, Simon peeked inside the kitchen. Functional, small but cozy. Apparently recently renovated with modern appliances. It even smelled like painted recently.
After leaving the bag of bones in the freezer he couldn’t resist taking a look inside the fridge too, only to find it well stocked with fresh vegetables, eggs, dairy products, and fish. The only meat packages were from his shop, and he felt a strange feeling of pride inside, and right after that, he felt stupid.
Simon headed to the living room, followed closely by a purring Orion, listening to the faint sounds coming from upstairs. Drawers opening and closing. He only stopped to look inside a tiny room that looked like an office, and then stepped inside the living room.
Just as cozy as the kitchen, and looking just as recently renovated. With a small fireplace that seemed not used recently, comfortable sofa, two armchairs, one of which had a big cushion on it, and on top of it, a grey cat that seemed deeply asleep.
He considered sitting down, but he didn’t want her to think he was making himself at home too soon. Also, cat hair. Just the thought that she was upstairs, getting changed, was enough to make his blood rush south and leave his brain, and suddenly, he felt a cold sweat running down his back.
What was he doing there?
She was beautiful, and educated, and smart and so goddamn sexy, and why, why did he even think that she’d be interested in him. Maybe she was just being polite.
Christ, maybe she felt threatened by the towering git at her door and was just going along.
His heart was beating so hard that he was sure she’d be able to hear it from upstairs. Hell, he wasn’t sure how the grey cat was still sleeping, while Orion was happily rolling on the rug, playing with a squeaky toy.
Before he could stop to think, his phone was in his hand and he dialed a number, keeping his eyes on the living room’s door.
As always, Price answered right away.
‘‘Simon, are you trying to park? The match is about to start, Johnny, Gary and Kyle are here already’’
‘‘The match… Ah, fuck’’ Simon muttered, almost startled when Orion jumped onto a shelf and purred while rubbing his head against him. ‘‘I forgot, I… Price, I did it’’
‘‘You did what? … You need bail?’’
‘‘No!’’ He kept his voice low, scratching the insistent kitty behind the ears, and somehow, the purring soothed him enough so he could explain. ‘‘I asked her out. The girl from the museum’’
‘‘Oh! Good man’’ Price sounded genuinely glad, and that made Simon’s heart both swell and ache. ‘‘What did she say?’’
‘‘She said yes! What do I do??’’ Christ, he sounded hopeless. When he was in his early twenties, chatting with a girl seemed way easier.
‘‘Do ye need instructions about what to do with a bonnie?’’ Johnny’s voice drowned Price’s, as if he was yelling right by the speaker. ‘‘Can tell ye a thing or two!’’
‘‘Price, for fuck’s sake, you put me on speaker!?’’
‘‘Our fault, mate’’ Kyle’s voice sounded as giddy as Johnny’s for some reason, and Simon promised himself that he would throttle them both at the first opportunity. ‘‘Why are we whispering?’’
‘‘She’s upstairs! I don’t want her to hear me yelling on the phone like a stupid twat!’’ Simon covered part of the phone with his hand, and shushed softly Orion when the cat meowed at him.
‘‘Upstairs… where are you?’’ Price sounded confused, and Simon wanted the ground to open and swallow him. He could still hear her faint steps on the other floor.
‘‘In… her living room. She’s getting dressed’’
‘‘Already?? Man, ye work faster than I thought’’ Johnny’s giddy voice made him grit his teeth. He could almost imagine his shit-eating grin, along with Kyle and Gary. He’d kill them.
‘‘To go out, you unfunny, miserable wanker’’ Simon growled into the phone, gripping it so hard he could swear he heard the case crack. ‘‘I brought her the bones for the shelter, she was wearing… clothes to be at home, comfortable! I asked her to the pub down the street, she said yes, and she’s getting changed!’’
‘‘Ok, son, give me the phone’’ Price seemed to wrestle the device from one of the boys, and then he could hear his heavy steps, the voices of the others dying down in the background. ‘‘I’m alone now’’
‘‘John, I don’t know what I’m doing’’
‘‘Yes, you do. As we rehearsed. Breathe. Go over the plan, son’’
The voice of his Captain always managed to bring him down from the edge. To soothe and calm the beasts of his mind, the beasts all of them had experienced during their time of service, before retiring all at the same time to try and live a bit before it was too late.
Simon breathed deeply, scratching again the orange cat’s ears, focusing on the soothing purr that came from the small feline.
‘‘Scout the neighbourhood, choose a place, close to her home so we don’t have to use a vehicle. So she doesn’t feel threatened being in a small space with me, in my car. A public place, so she is comfortable. No alcohol, I have to drive home. Walk her back to her door’’
‘‘Exactly’’ Price approved, chuckling lowly. ‘‘You have this, Lieutenant’’
‘‘You think?’’ Simon scoffed, looking around the room. Bookcases, souvenirs, a couple of paintings, but barely any photos. Nothing that could tell him anything personal about her beyond what he already knew by their short talks at the shop. ‘‘What if I fuck it up? I’m not exactly a charmer’’
‘‘You are a damn fine lad, and I’m sure she thinks so’’ His friend chuckled again. ‘‘Now stop wasting time on the phone with me. Let me know how it goes by the end of the night’’
‘‘I will’’ Simon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, but had to resume scratching Orion’s ears because it started yowling. ‘‘Sorry for the sound, she has cats. I… Thank you, John. I’ll text you later’’
He hung up before the conversationn turned mushier than it already was, and sighed. He could do it. Enjoy her company for a couple of hours at most, allow her to discover how different they were. That it wouldn’t work.
Steps down the stairs. Oh, fuck.
Orion ran towards the main hall, meowing, and Simon felt stupid but followed the small creature, as if lured by some silent music.
Christine was going down the stairs, with her shoes in her hand. Heels, high but not too much. She was wearing an off the shoulder, knee length dress, in a dark red tone that made her pale skin glow with the light. Her hair was still down, but now it seemed brushed and hairstyled a bit, wavier than before.
He forgot how to breathe for a second. Until then, he had only seen her wearing smart but comfortable clothes, surely what was expected from her at the museum, and her hair up. When she got to him, he noticed her makeup was barely noticeable, like her usual. He was used to see her wearing just mascara and a bit of eyeliner and lipstick, and he was glad she hadn’t caked up in it.
‘‘Did I take too long?’’ Christine smiled, a bit nervous yet. It had taken a lot of thought and doubts and checking with the girls to decide on what to wear. Nothing too fancy, they were just going to a pub down the street. Nothing too shabby, she didn’t want him to believe she made no effort to look good.
But she didn’t have too many clothes to choose from to start with, and she had settled on the dark red dress that Leni and Freya forced her to get a couple of weeks before during their last shopping spree. And Olya had approved of it eagerly, so she had had to get it.
‘‘Not at all’’ Simon swallowed, feeling the knot in his throat go down inside his chest and all the way down his gut. And lower. Shit. ‘‘You look bloody beautiful’’
She blushed, delighted, and leaned against the banister to put her shoes on, one by one. Orion was meowing and rubbing against her legs. Simon bent down and grabbed the furry creature, chuckling when it immediately started to purr, and stepped into the living room momentarily to leave the cat on a cushion while she grabbed a blazer and her purse.
They said nothing as they stepped outside, and Simon waited patiently while she locked the door. Then, when she turned around to face him, he offered her his arm.
Feeling like a fucking idiot, but Heather had insisted the night before when he had been at Price’s.
Offer her your arm if she’s wearing heels, Simon. Not your hand, she might find it too forward. But your arm is the perfect middle.
Maybe Price’s wife was onto something, because Christine held it right away, accepting his help down the small steps in front of her house.
‘‘Is that your car?’’ As if she hadn’t been spying on him while he parked.
Simon looked at his slightly banged Jeep Wrangler. And dirty. Fucking shite.
‘‘Yeah. Big and reliable’’
‘‘Like you?’’ Christine smiled, blushing again, and he felt his heart doing sommersaults inside his chest.
‘‘Well, I sure hope so’’ God, why was he grinning like a sodding twat. If Johnny, Kyle and Gary saw him, he’d never live it down.
‘‘Well, Johnny says you are’’ She shrugged lightly, and he grimaced, trying to imagine what kind of things the bloody arsehole could have told her. He knew they had been friends since they were teens, when she spent her summers in Scotland.
‘‘Johnny says a lot of things’’ Simon grunted, and that made Christine giggle. And in turn, the sound had him grinning like a fool again, as they walked down the street towards the pub.
Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea after all.
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bsydelver · 3 months ago
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What’s your dream?
The sound of the camera starting fills the room, the bright flash it emits: pretty annoying but the blonde haired girl had gotten used to it due to the fact that her mother had this urge to record every little memory the family has.
The chair the girl sat on wasn’t unfamiliar to her, there were multiple chairs from the same company around the house; the chairs were simple and functional even though they weren’t the most ‘quote-on-quote’ attractive chairs, but who even cares about what a chair looks like…
“What’s your dream El?” the soft voice of a young woman spoke, the girl tilted her head in confusion hinting that she did not understand the statement that was just said, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” the girl’s face switches now that the question was simplified, she had heard that question being asked a million times in school: it’s the only sentence she could memorise and answer, “I want to be a boxing champion like dad!” the woman just sighs and the camera goes down, still rolling for some reason, the mother had probably forgotten to turn it off: it wasn’t something new.
The silence was loud, only the faint sound of the camera’s ‘anti-overheating’ fan could be heard in the background, “that league isn’t for girls Gisele, just be a model like your mother here.” the deep voice of a man broke the silence, “BUT YOU MADE HER QUIT AND SAID THE ONLY REASON SHE WAS EVEN SUCCESSFUL WAS BECAUSE BOYS WERE GETTING TU-“ the loud sound of a slap interrupted the little girl.
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The atmosphere was not in search for anyone talking, the air spoke in its own way. Gisele gripped the pencil in her hand but careful enough not to break it: it was clear to anyone who’d just take one look at her, that she wasn’t even trying.
Gisele stared at those who were skimming through the paper with no obstacles or distractions except if it was turning the page around just to make sure of something, she would’ve died to be on that level but there she was; squinting her eyes to pretend that she just read the question wrong to waste more time.
Hearing the clock’s continuous ticking sound brought some sort of comfort to the blonde, it wasn’t anything psychological or anything it was just relaxing in a way she couldn’t quite describe. She finally rested the pencil’s tip on the paper and started writing what felt like the right answer. Gisele had learnt that just writing an answer was way better than leaving the question empty and she always stood by that rule, regardless of what happens.
Though her streak didn’t stay for long as she paused right at the last question. The last one was always an opinion question that was open to any answer, it tested the student’s vocabulary and maturity and though it seemed useless, as this was during the finals: this was going to affect report cards due to the reasoning behind even having it in the first place be an important factor when going to high school.
Q-43)
What’s your dream?……………
The blank dots that posed as space left for the answer pissed Gisele off, it felt like they knew who they were asking because they knew she was going to answer it.
Gisele would always mock that last question but at that moment she was literally struggling over that exact thing.
“My dream is to have the opportunity to have my eyes look at her physical form again.”
It was a strange choice of words that just barely made sense and it looked like whoever wrote it just wanted the mark (which was true for the most part) but in Gisele’s opinion: it was everything she wanted to express but in a fancier way.
——————————————————————————
The smell of the smoke was addictive yet horrid at the same time, it just depended on who was smelling it; it was raspy even though that word was mostly used to describe touch or voice but it was the best word to really show how the smell was. Gisele looked down at the lighter with her father’s name engraved on it, she had stolen that to keep it as a memory once she had to move out due to the divorce, then she looked at the river beneath her, the only wall between them being the bridge she stood on.
This was Agnes’ favorite place, it was perfect to play at, run around in (just be careful) and more. Gisele felt attracted to it, even more after the incident. It was a calm place and nobody really went there except for kids in the morning and smokers at night every now and then, it was only Gisele there most of the time.
The sudden sound of approaching footsteps erupted, Gisele didn’t mind it since it wasn’t an unfamiliar occurrence so she just continued on with her thing.
“You seem young, what are you doing out here?” Gisele turned her head to be met with the eyes of a man who looked no older than forty and no younger than thirty, “Grieving, I assume it’s just a few years more and you’ll be experiencing a ton of that.” that wasn’t a really kind thing to say but Gisele was too high to really be thinking about what she was saying, “Straight forward, you really are still a kid,” Gisele scoffed at the sentence and didn’t reply and just guided her eyes back to the river not taking them off to even glance at the guy again, “Let me ask you something,” there wasn’t a reply or even a nod of approval though the guy decided to continue, “what’s your dream?” Gisele suddenly lifted her head up still not turning her head to the guy but just staring far, maybe this was one of the questions she would’ve left empty for once in her exams; except the last time she saw it in her middle school finals, she didn’t leave it: she answered it but she didn’t quite remember what that answer was.
Gisele still deep in thought put the cigarette down and threw it in the river, “I wanna be like the girls my age, to actually have a dream like they do: that’s my dream.” Gisele spoke with no emotion in her voice whatsoever, “See I made you actually think about something, now can I have a hit? They’re peeking out of your pocket.” Gisele looked at the pocket the guy was probably eyeing and referring to, the drugs, they were fully out of her pocket and she hadn’t realized.
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legendsgalore · 4 months ago
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Magolor and Taranza Gijinka
So I have been thinking about what certain Kirby characters would look like as humans recently, and have been trying to sketch it out! These are just sketches for now, but I am working on color version atm, as well as full body drawings. So for Magolor, I would imagine him to have a long sleeveless coat/vest thing with a hood, to emulate his on his little, fox/cat/owl body. I would imagine this is made out a of a heavy, but not thick material. The type that drapes very well, as he uses a belt buckle around his waist to create some shape with it. This would be a white color with gold accents on it.
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The reason I picked a sleeveless one, is to show off the undershirt! I imagine Magolor to be surprisingly toned, he IS a dimensional explorer afterall, he is no pushover! But as he is a mage, he is not a muscular person. So his shirt would be a fitted one over the arms, and I put some fun gear patterns on the shoulders! I imagine this as a deeper blue (you can see the color in that weird blob in the bottom right corner bleeding through the page) with the gear being a golden yellow.
Additionally, he wears a necklace that sits just above his collar bone, with an additional chain hanging from the middle bead that has a golden star at the end!
Not pictured is I imagine Magolor goes and does field research often, collecting samples, testing spells, etc. So not only is his clothing built for adventure (pockets!), but he has on a pair of good boots! They're shorter ones, and I'm leaning towards lace up style, with more gear insignia on the back. I think halfway through the adventure with Kirby, or maybe once Kirby and co get all the Lor pieces, they return to see that Magolor swapped shirts (and to return the pieces ya know). This once is a more flowy style, that drapes on his figure compared to the fitted one from before (though in my drawing it looks skintight haha). I'm unsure if I want to keep the deep blue color, or go for a lighter blue-grey here, to signify something is off about Magolor when Kirby returns.
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For his hair, at first I was imagining something half up-half down, but then I remembered that is the hairstyle I always use for Meta Knight, and that was not going to cut it. This is the part I am most iffy about, but so far I have enjoyed this messy bun! I think it pairs well with him having pretty features, and a longer nose, neck, pronounced collar bone, etc. Like even though in actuality Magolor is a round little cat guy, I enjoy picturing him as an angular pretty anime boy. Kinda a heart-throb-and-he-knows-it type. Too much of an ego on him, but well earned so you can't really bash him for it. Now for Taranza, I have less pictures, but a much more solid idea of what I want him to look like. For him I think I am staying much closer to what his in-game appearance is, but with more formality and prettiness!
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(Please ignore how awkward that drawing looks, I drew his head at an angle, and it looked fine in pencil, but then I inked it without giving any weight to the lines, and then I did flat colors and now he looks quite bizarre)
So he has his cape thing, which I decided was kinda a half-shoulder cape, rather than a full body one. I felt that it matched better with the idea that he works/worked for royalty. And that is reflected in how his cape is held in place by like brooches?? Idk what you actually call the equivalent for cufflinks but for a cape, but it's there.
For the rest of his outfit, I wanted it to look like a worker at the palace's uniform, but slightly fancier, so it's a fitted, collared shirt with buttons (that get bigger in the middle to match Taranza's in game design), with a belt (idk if I like the buckle or not on it), and then slightly fitted pants. He just has some slippers for now, or maybe they could be loafers, but boy is magic and flies around when he can so why need sturdy shoes?
On the same train of thought, Taranza is not very muscular, but he is quite lithe and slender. Which is part of why the formal royal uniform suits him well I think!
His hair is basically the same as his in-game, and I imagine the general shape to match Kurapika from HunterxHunter's.
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heavens-bookshop · 2 years ago
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The Book Of Marmalade (read on AO3 here!)
"You want me to do what?"
Lucius has a look about him like a cornered rabbit, and Ed supposes that's fair. Still hasn't quite recovered from the whole attempted murder thing, it seems.
"I want you to show me how to… write stuff," he mumbles, feeling his ego dent somewhat at having to make the pathetic request twice.
"Okay…" The fear on Lucius' face morphs to something more quizzical. "Why not ask Captain Stede? He's got much better handwriting and I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help you."
"I can't ask Stede," Ed says through clenched teeth.
When Lucius continues to stare, baffled, Ed spits out the embarrassing truth.
"I wanna… I want to surprise him with a love letter."
"A love letter?"
"Yeah, you know," Ed says, waving his hands and ignoring how hot his cheeks are getting. "I love you and… I think your face is great."
Lucius cocks a rather cynical eyebrow. "Is that usually how love letters go?"
"Well I wouldn't fucking know, would I?"
Lucius brings his hands up defensively, and there's that panic again. Ed only feels a little guilty about it.
"Alright, alright, I'll help. So when can I pencil you in–?"
"Now."
"Now?" Lucius asks, and then shrinks a little under Ed's glare. "Okay, now. Let me go get some supplies, I guess."
They set up at a small table wedged in a corner of the crew's mess, somewhere they hope Stede won't come looking. Lucius spreads out their materials - several books, some bits of parchment paper, a bottle of ink, a quill - and spends the next hour or so going over the shapes and names of letters that were up til now just squiggles to Ed's eyes.
"So," Lucius says at last, pulling a fresh piece of parchment in front of them. "Why don't we get cracking on your letter?"
Ed twirls the quill between his forefinger and thumb. "Okay." The pen feels odd in his hand, a phantom limb. "I don't think I know how to start though."
"Right, well we could just go with his name," Lucius says. "That's S-T-E-D-E."
Ed scrawls the letters onto the paper, pen scratching with every stroke.
"How's that?"
Lucius pulls his mouth into a thin line and nods.
"It's… yep, that's a start."
Ed stares down at his handiwork.
"It looks like a fucking child wrote it."
"Yeah. You've also done the D backwards."
"Eh?"
"Says Stebe."
"Oh fuck this," Ed growls, crumpling up the parchment and tossing it across the table.
"Come on, you've only been at this for like, an afternoon," Lucius grabs another piece of paper. "The captain'll love it, just have some patience with yourself."
Patience is not something Blackbeard is known for - least of all with himself - but then Ed imagines Stede's face when he sees the letter, plastered with that stupidly soft smile, and finds his resolve.
"Fine."
Lucius tips his head to the side and then holds out a hand. "Here's an idea. Why don't I write the first draft, and then you can copy that?"
Ed nods and passes him the quill. "Yeah that sounds alright."
"Okay," Lucius says, putting pen to paper. "Let's see here. To my… dearest… Stede…"
Ed watches him write, the loops and lines flowing easily from the nib, until he stops and stares up from the parchment.
"So…?"
"Oh shit," Ed says flatly. "I need to come up with words."
"That is traditionally how letters are written, yes."
When Ed doesn't say anything, Lucius shrugs and says, "I love you and your face is great?"
That dislodges a growl from the back of Ed's throat. It seems somewhat obvious now, but he'd been so caught up in the anxiety of the asking and the learning and the overall gesture of the letter that he'd simply forgotten he actually needed something to say.
"Fuck, how am I supposed to do this?"
"Well, what's inside here?" Lucius gestures to his chest with the feathered end of the quill.
"Guts, I guess. Blood. About half a bottle of rum."
"Good god," Lucius mutters under his breath. "No, I mean your feelings."
"Oh. Well… I love him." Ed scowls at his own simple-mindedness. "Except I wanna say it fancier than that. I dunno how Stede's so good at this, I've got all this stuff in my head but I don't know how to make it come out of my mouth."
"How about we try it another way. What do you think of when you think of the captain?"
Ed takes a moment and thinks about Stede - thinks about warm eyes and kind hands, about quiet kisses on a beach and you wear fine things well. He thinks about tea and silk and breakfast together on the maintop.
"I dunno… I guess… marmalade? Warm and sweet but also weird and tangy. Got all those unexpected bits in it."
He thinks about waking up together, about sleep-warm skin and finding each other's soft edges in the early light of dawn, and smiles.
"And I like the taste of it first thing in the morning."
Lucius' face crumples in disgust. "Oh Jesus Christ."
The reaction hits Ed like a punch to the gut and suddenly his face is on fire. "Oh for– I meant, like, kissing!"
"God it's like… picturing your parents going at it."
"Well stop picturing it then!"
"Okay, okay, okay." Lucius rubs his face and takes a deep breath. "That's actually… oddly sweet. I think we can make something out of it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
*
The next morning is a calm one. Lucius stands on the quarterdeck, covertly eyeing up his co-captains sitting side by side on the maintop. It's become their routine, eating breakfast up there together, though Lucius can't help but notice how much Blackbeard has been fidgeting for the last ten minutes.
"They're cute, aren't they?" Pete says as he sidles up next to Lucius.
The two of them watch as Blackbeard hands over a piece of paper, much to Captain Stede's surprise.
"Hm… How would you feel if I wrote you a poem about marmalade?"
Pete leans into Lucius' shoulder. "Um, I dunno. That sounds kinda sweet."
Lucius studies Captain Stede's face carefully - or at least as much as he can from this distance.
"And if it contained the line 'orange you glad we met'? What then, Pete?"
"Oof. You didn't let him write that, did you babe?"
Above them, Stede breaks out into a smile and pulls Blackbeard into an enthusiastic kiss.
"Okay, seems like Captain Stede likes it well enough at least."
The kiss gets a little more lively, Stede pushing his body into Blackbeard, until the two of them disappear in a heap on top of each other.
"Wow, he really likes marmalade, huh?" Pete says.
"Yeah, I think this is our cue to get back to work."
Lucius grabs Pete by the elbow and hurries them off below deck, firm in the knowledge that he will not be able to so much as look at the jam room for the foreseeable future.
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1kook · 4 years ago
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ZOOM CALL
⇢ meeting one
jeon jungkook x (f) reader
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⇢ series masterlist
summary: In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: jk is a ditzy lil nerdy sweetheart, college crushes, social distancing -_-, use of the zoom app, 1kook Builds a Healthy Relationship (Version 2.0) ratings: M (18+) wc: 3.2k
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notes: well. here we are. as always i have to thank common sense (coincidentally named rumu @kigurumu​ ) for reading this over and pointing out little details <3 after much deliberation, i have decided to post our beloved zoom jk (see origin story here) in the form of short ‘drabbles’ depicting diff zoom calls with this being The Beginning™️ so please... bare with me </3 ty to all the nice ppl who have been excited for this, luv u very much 🥺
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There are times in human history where words captivate their audience; times when single words or phrases wrap around the listener, melt into their bones and radiate warmth from within. But rarely does one word manage such an impact, rarely is it as revered and as cherished as the word cancelled is to most college students. 
Class is cancelled, group meetings are cancelled, the stupidly big semester final project was cancelled. You could cancel nearly anything, and in most cases, it would be beautiful. Cancelled meant more time to sleep in the morning, an afternoon free of pesky project partners, a pleasant reprieve from having to socialize with anyone. It was a glorious word with heavenly connotations that brought tears of joy to your eyes whenever you saw it appear in an email preview.
Except this one.
Spring Semester 2021: On-Campus Classes CANCELLED — Social Distance Measures as per State Regula…
Your last semester as a student in university… online? You couldn’t believe it. All these years of studying rigorously, cramming for exams, attaining a near perfect GPA— just to sit in your bedroom and stare at your computer screen for the last 15 weeks of classes? Had your friends not been there to mope with you, you’re certain a part of you would have gone on a rampage and cursed every bacteria known to mankind for doing this to you.
It was your last year, you whined in private (never in public; your friends had always considered you the mature one, the studious friend who kept everyone in order), yet here you were, setting up your desk for your last ever first day of classes with quite possibly the biggest pout on your face.
Zoom, your school had raved in an email a few weeks into the break, the desktop application that will keep us united in these trying times! As if, you huffed, giving the stupid application permission to connect to your computer’s camera and audio systems. What even was proper Zoom etiquette? Did you have to enter the meeting and greet every student cheerfully? You had always said hi to your classmates before, but something about saying it over a computer mic felt awkward.
The feeling doubled when you finally entered the meeting, only to be met with a sea of black screens save for your professor, who seemed to be clicking around his computer in a rather confused fashion. This was going to suck, you thought bitterly.
You had entered the room ten minutes earlier because, well, you always showed up to class a few minutes earlier than the scheduled meeting time. But was there any point to doing that here? Usually, the time before class was spent making small talk with said classmates, discussing the readings or the assignments, talking mindlessly about whatever came to mind. But something in your gut said it would be weird to do that now.
So you sit in silence for the next ten minutes, nervously tapping your pen against your desk as you wait for the professor to launch into whatever introductory monologue he had planned. You toy with your phone, scrolling through your twitter feed only to see a brigade of tweets from students all over the nation suffering the same fate as you. It was a trending topic.
Two minutes before the class starts, you hear the tell-tale ping of someone entering the meeting. You wave it off just like you have your other 41 classmates thus far, but then there’s the clearing of a throat, and a sweet, “good morning” filtering through your speakers. Lifting your head from the hunched over position you had assumed while glancing at your phone, you’re startled by the sudden handsome face that appears before you.
In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window.
He’s nothing short of a dreamboat, soft and doughy cheeks that catch the hue of the screen light, highlighting his cheekbones in a faint blue color. Imploring doe eyes blinking widely at the screen as he clicks around, narrating his confusion in a low mumble (mic still on, how cute). Dark hair— was it brown? black? the pixelated screen made it hard to tell —messily pushed away from his face.
And his voice, oh his voice. It matches his gentle appearance perfectly. A soft snort. “Am I the only one here?” he says, thin lips pulled to the side in a bashful grin.
The professor laughs with him. “No, but you are the only one with your camera on,” he responds.
You’re not sure if it’s the professor’s teasing jab at literally everyone else or the need to support the cutie who smiles softly at screen, but suddenly, a handful of windows come to life. Your classmates fill up the screen, dressed in an array of styles with bedrooms (and, on the rare occasion, dorm rooms) to match. You nibble at your bottom lip, finger hovering over the button that will expose your appearance to the rest of your classmates
Eventually, the wordless peer pressure, the need to be a good student, and the supportive face of Jeon Jungkook (he/him) have you inhaling sharply before dutifully clicking the camera on. Your face appears on screen, nearly lost in the now overwhelming sea of faces. You’re one of the last ones to turn your camera on, both pages of your zoom meeting participant windows filled with the contrasting images of your classmates joining from their bedrooms. The professor claps in delight, and finally dives into the mandatory first day of classes spiel.
Syllabuses, group work, asynchronous lectures. You’ve heard these words all before, have practically memorized this class’s syllabus like the back of your hand. The pros of being an overachiever. The cons are, however, that you think every question your classmates ask is stupid. Read the syllabus, you want to scream. But it’s the first day of class. You don’t even know who your assigned study group partners (as mentioned in the syllabus) are and you certainly don’t want them to dislike you so soon. They can do that after the third meeting, but not today.
You’re not entirely surprised when your attention drifts away from the professor and the endless sea of stupid questions he’s left to answer. Even when you realize you’ve stopped paying attention, you don’t bother forcing yourself to tune back in. No, instead your focus drifts across the windows of faces.
Some of your classmates are as bored as you, glaring at the screen with disinterest, or glancing off to the side probably at their phones. So you start looking at their rooms, analyzing their decorations and posters as if you’re a professional critic on some house design show.
Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in a rather plain dorm room. Plain light gray walls— or maybe it’s white —free of decoration. He’s sitting at the provided desk, just like you. The only reason you focus on that is because there’s a multitude of your classmates lazily sprawled across their beds, slumped over a couch. Hardly anyone is sitting at attention like you. Well, except for Jeon Jungkook (he/him). He’s practically exposing the entirety of his living accommodation with the way his camera is set up.
Above eye level, reaching just below his chest, with the room all laid out before you. A neat twin bed, sheets meticulously made. It almost looks like the decorative set at a furniture store with the way the comforter and variety of pillows are placed. He doesn’t seem to be in the crappy dorms you remember, which leaves you wondering where exactly he’s been assigned. You know certain sports clubs get fancier dormitories. Anyway, there’s a door off the side of the bed, a black guitar standing in the corner just behind it. You wonder what’s behind the camera, if maybe his desk is as organized as the rest of his room. Maybe his closet is his weakness, you muse, imagining poor Jeon Jungkook (he/him) with a tornado of a closet. But the thought doesn’t make that much sense, so you discard it quickly.
Anyway, his dorm room. It’s neat and orderly, makes you tilt your head curiously as he swivels from side to side before you. As for himself, he’s dressed in a plain white sweater, hoodie strings perfectly even. His hair has long since fallen over his forehead, but he’s pushed it over this time in a fluffy side part. He was adorably soft.
He’s paying attention to the professor like he genuinely treasures every word that comes off his tongue, nodding along understandingly. He’s even got a pencil in hand, leaning forward every few seconds to scribble something down hurriedly. Not like this is all on the syllabus or anything, you think.
But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s dispelled just as fast. He’s only trying to be a good student, you scold yourself, feeling oddly mean for wanting to make fun of this sweet boy. Especially when he raises his hand a second later and asks the first good question of the day. Something about the grading scale for group projects and how much is determined by the group members themselves. You’re not too sure, the words get a little fuzzy when he starts speaking and his pink lips pull down into an endearing pout.
A couple minutes later and your professor finally wraps up the questions, telling everyone to email him if any other questions arise throughout the semester. Just as you’re sighing in relief, he utters those dreaded words: “Ice-breakers!” he exclaims, and the whole class grimaces, much to his amusement. He says something about feeling the excitement through the screen, but then changes gears. “Since it’s a little hard to talk to your neighbor, I’m going to test out the Breakout Rooms and see how that works, okay guys?”
You frown. Breakout Rooms? What on earth was that? Like most of your classmates, this is pretty much your first rodeo with the Zoom application. He was sending you all into small groups, where? The answer presents itself a few seconds later, a message box appearing on your screen.
The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 4
Your professor is still chattering in the background when you nervously accept the invitation, his voice suddenly cut off as your computer jumps to a new loading screen. It takes a while before you’re suddenly dumped into a new room. And then you’re staring at your own face, blown up on your own screen in a rather uncomfortable way. Jeez, did you really look like this?
As soon as you get to picking at your appearance, your mirrored reflection jumps to the side, once, then twice more to fit the three new guests in your room. Silence fills your bedroom as you and your classmates all stare at each other nervously for a couple seconds, unsure of what to say. This was, after all, your first meeting.
Just as you’ve gathered all your courage to click your microphone on, the screen jumps around once more and suddenly Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in your Breakout Room. Immediately, his surprised face melts into the most reassuring grin you’ve ever seen, and he’s practically jumping forward to turn his mic on.
“Good morning, everyone,” he says, smooth and low. It’s like the awkward tension melts away under the pressure of his pretty smile, your classmates responding back with polite hellos and good mornings to him. You barely get yours in before Jeon Jungkook (he/him) starts talking again. “So… how are you guys?”
His words, sweet and caring as they are, send the five of you into a rather mindless conversation. Talking about nothing really, just whatever comes to mind about the class, about the semester, about the remote learning. Then Jungkook— “just Jungkook is fine!” he tells the other four of you with that same too pure look on his face after someone refers to him by his whole name —starts talking about some movie he had seen on Netflix the other day, something his friend recommended to him. Truthfully, you have zero interest in the type of plot he is describing, and you can tell some of the other people in your group don’t either. But he’s absorbed in his storytelling, features lit up as he details every last plot point of the film like his life depends on it. There’s a wordless agreement to let him ramble on.
By the time Jungkook has finished his novella recapture of whatever movie he was talking about, a green message bubble appears at the top of your screen. It’s a message from your professor, who is telling you the small group meeting will end in a few more minutes.
“Aw, that sucks,” Jungkook laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. And then, “oh! We haven’t answered our icebreaker question yet!”
Ah, yes. The reason for this small group was to get to know each other, not for Jungkook to recount an entire two hour movie for you all. “Oh, right,” you agree, probably the first words you’ve said in the past five minutes. You navigate to the chat box, where your professor had hastily dumped the question before sending you all off. “What’s one thing you miss most about being on campus?” you read aloud, glancing back at the screen.
Your group mates are all in various states of blissful comfort, the gaps of their nervousness smoothed over by Jungkook’s bubbly personality, and the hesitation they’d shown at the beginning is practically gone. Someone steps forward and says something about the campus dining hall. Jungkook laughs, loud and airy, claps his hands all cute too. Someone else says the library because it was a good place to study. There’s a lull and you jump in quickly. “I think I’ll miss the couches by the gym in the student center the most,” you confess, though you doubt anyone knows which ones you mean. They were a set of brightly colored couches tucked into a cranny behind the Starbucks just outside the campus gym, avidly avoided by the gym rats who were determined to ignore the sugary drinks and snacks.
Apparently, the hiding spot isn’t as secretive as you thought. “Oh, the ones by the Starbucks?” Jungkook exclaims, excitedly looking at his screen. You have this fluttery feeling that he’s looking at you for the first time. You nod, and he quite positively beams. “I love those!”
“Yeah, I spend a lot of time there,” you say, though it’s a little stilted because you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to react to Jungkook’s enthusiasm. Though his outgoing personality cloaks you in comfort, his pretty smile has your heartbeat acting a little funny.
Jungkook’s got these huge eyes, blinking owlishly at you. “Really? So do I!” And then you both seem to have the same realization. His head tilts to the side cutely, an amused smile on his face, “I’ve never seen you there.”
“I’ve never seen you there,” you shoot back, a little snarkier than necessary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. His smile turns goofy.
“Woah,” he says in a rather dreamy tone, “isn’t that so cool? We spent so much time in the same place, but never crossed paths before,” he babbles. He’s stopped looking at his computer, leaning back in a sort of dazed manner with this sparkly look to his eyes, much to everyone’s amusement. Except yours, because frankly, it sounds a little bit like he’s describing— “fate!” he says suddenly, like it’s truly an aha! moment. He pauses, taps his finger against his chin. “Or anti-fate? I’m not sure. But it’s like— we could’ve met so many times before and we didn’t.” Doe eyes return to the screen, flickering around until they presumably land on you again. “What do you think, __?”
And he’s just so cute, makes the rigid shield around your chest soften for the slightest moment as you nod meekly. “Uhh, yeah. Fate,” you agree, and then get to hear him laugh and giggle for about three seconds before you’re suddenly thrown back into the larger Zoom meeting.
Weirdly flustered, you hurriedly click your microphone back off, and nearly contemplate the camera too. But then the professor is asking you all to share what you talked about and you’re resigning yourself to a few more minutes of screen time while the class wraps up. By the looks of it, not everyone had as an enjoyable time as you did. Part of you is thankful you didn’t get stuck in an awkward small group. The other part recognizes wholeheartedly that it’s all thanks to one smiley boy at the bottom of your screen.
“And group 4?” the professor asks, and you blink yourself back into attention. Before you can unmute yourself and answer for your group, Jungkook is beating you to it.
“We talked about a lot of things,” Jungkook answers cheerfully. From your view, you get a front row seat to the sheer power of Jungkook’s magnetic personality, watching as all your listless classmates suddenly snap back from their daydreams to zero in on whatever Jungkook is saying. He fills in the professor about what you talked about, from the movies to the couches, and you feel weirdly mushy when his eyes flicker across the screen before settling with a soft smile.
He can’t possibly be looking at me, you tell yourself. Your hand jerks forward to turn the camera off, but in your haste, end up knocking down the water bottle on your desk. You scramble to straighten it, thanking the universe for the fact you actually remembered to screw on the cap. You glance back at the screen, and nearly die when you catch sight of a giggly Jungkook, smile hidden behind an adorable sweater paw as he laughs at something on screen. Oh no, was he looking at me? you panic.
“Alright, everyone,” your professor says in that “I’m about to wrap this class up” voice. Too close to the screen, voice a little too loud. “Good meeting today, I’ll see you all again on Wednesday. Stay safe.”
“Bye!” Jungkook sings sweetly, and everyone else follows as they all bid adieu to the professor. Still a little frazzled from the possibility that Jungkook may have watched you flail around like a total loser, you take a second longer to turn your mic on. Your classmates quickly leave the meeting, leaving only a few stragglers until the very end.
Surprisingly, Jungkook is here too, brown eyes focused on the screen. You unmute yourself. “Um,” you stammer, eyes unwillingly flickering over to Jungkook who smiles at the sound of your voice. “Goodbye. Thank you,” you rush out, and then quickly leave the meeting as well.
With the meeting over, you’re left staring at the home page of the Zoom app, heart beating a little too fast to be normal. Your face feels warm, and your fingers tremble from some unfamiliar, giddy feeling in your chest. You exhale slowly, hand coming up to rub at your chin as if that will somehow explain the weird excitement from your Zoom meeting. Maybe it was just adrenaline, or nervousness, you try to convince yourself. After all, the first day of classes is always nerve-wracking.
Except when you navigate to your class page and begin to mindlessly scroll through the class roster, there’s a weird stutter to your heartbeat when you catch sight of that Jeon Jungkook (he/him) that appears halfway down the list.
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Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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mc-lukanette · 4 years ago
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It was the first day of the school year, and Marinette figured that nothing could surprise her. She'd dealt with just about everything she could think of on her first days, both good and bad (mostly bad), so she imagined that she at least wouldn't be caught off guard by anything.
Then, she opened her locker and found someone else's things inside. She blinked twice, just to make sure that she wasn't seeing things, then closed the locker door to check the number on it. Without a doubt, it was her locker, yet it was apparently being used by some mystery person.
Definitely something she hadn't experienced before, though she could think of worse things that could've happened. Still, what did it mean?
She inhaled, then let out a calm breath, not wanting to freak out over what could've just been a mistake. Keeping her things, she took them - along with her questions - off to the principal's office.
—————
"And you say that another person had already put their supplies in your locker?" Mister Damocles asked as he typed away on his computer, occasionally glancing at the sheet of paper Marinette had given him with her locker number on it.
"Yes," she replied, a little formally given that she was talking to the principal. Leaning forward in her seat, she added, "I don't want any trouble though. If they just put their stuff in the wrong locker, I'll take theirs. It's okay."
He nodded, but focused almost completely on the screen of his computer. Marinette couldn't help feeling anxious doing nothing at all, so she tried to occupy her time by looking around the room and swinging her legs back and forth.
She jumped when Mister Damocles abruptly cleared his throat, soon after his typing stopped. His expression was nervous even though he clearly tried to hide it.
"W-well, it wasn't an error exactly," he began, "you see, we... had an increase in students this year that we weren't prepared for."
"Really?" she asked, unsure but also not seeing what reason he'd have to lie to her.
"So there just weren't enough lockers for us to give one to each student. You and one of the students in Ms. Mendeleiev's class happened to be the odd ones out."
"Oh." She slumped, considering that. It seemed unnecessary to put up a fight about it, and although the idea was a little strange, the worst case scenario was the other student taking something of hers that could probably just be replaced anyway.
Satisfied enough, she stood up and approached the desk. "At least now I know. I guess I'll just have to work with it." She turned, waving as she went. "Have a nice day, Mister Damocles!"
Mister Damocles nodded and waved back at her, grinning far too wide to be genuine. It was only once the door closed and she was gone that he let himself fall onto the desk with an exhausted grunt. He hoped beyond reasonable expectation that neither student ever had a problem sharing a locker with the other and decided to bring it up with their parents.
He just had no idea how he was going to explain that Chloe Bourgeois had demanded so many lockers for herself that it caused the problem in the first place.
—————
Having returned to her locker, Marinette whispered an unheard apology to her mystery person, as she had no choice but to move their things so that she could put her own in. At the very least, she made sure things were organized so that their stuff didn't mingle.
That done, she reached into her bag, smiling as she pulled out a stack of oversized - courtesy of her tendency to ramble, even in text - sticky notes, brand new and ready for the school year. She hadn't expected to start using it so soon, but she knew from experience that classes didn't seem to go to their lockers at the same time, meaning that it'd have to be by note if she wanted to communicate.
Using her nails to tear into the protective plastic around the sticky notes, she then pulled off a single note to write on. She sat on her heels, placing her closed sketchbook on her legs and putting the sticky note on top. From her bag, she pulled out one of her fancier pens, not wanting to seem sloppy to the person sharing her locker since it wasn't like it was their fault they were sharing.
She tapped the blunt end of the pen against her chin, having to think for a moment before feeling mentally prepared enough to write.
Hey, so it seems there weren't enough lockers this year and we both have the same locker number because of it. I don't really mind, but I could maybe talk to Mr. Damocles again if it's a bother?
(by the way, I took the bottom shelf because I'd be surprised if you were shorter than me ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭, but you can have the two top ones, so I hope that makes up for it!)
Signed, 🌺
It wasn't very professional, but she hadn't intended it to be, as she wouldn't have been able to keep up such an aura for the entire school year if they ended up being okay sharing with her.
The decision to sign with a flower rather than her name was a matter of privacy; neither of them knew each other's faces yet, so it only seemed right to use something less identifying than a name. She couldn't help giggling, feeling as though it added an air of mystery to the whole thing and made her look cooler than she really was.
Putting her sketchbook and pen away, she stood up and stuck her note to the front of the top shelf, where the future recipient was sure to see it. She turned to pick up her bag, but realized belatedly that they might not have the supplies she had to write her back. Thinking quickly, she got another sticky note out, laying it along with a pencil on the middle shelf without specifically sticking them there, hoping the intent was obvious.
That done, she headed off to class, a little more bounce in her step than usual from the mixture of nerves and curiosity at the idea of getting a reply.
—————
It turned out that she hadn't had to worry at all.
Hey. I don't mind at all. You don't have to move anywhere.
(and thanks, but I feel bad for taking both shelves, so maybe we can swap every other day or something? (;´~`))
Signed, 🎵
Marinette grinned, amused by the fact that her locker buddy (as she now felt safe to call them) had signed in the same manner as her, yet their handwriting was very different. While she was more cutesy in her letters, theirs were more carefree, though she supposed that was cute in its own way.
Maybe sharing a locker would end up being fun after all.
[continuation]
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helloalycia · 4 years ago
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teenage dirtbag [three] // wanda maximoff
summary: Wanda's boyfriend continues to be an aggravation in your life, causing some distance between you and Wanda
warning/s: none
author's note: i really appreciate the feedback you guys gave in the last part – it’s always motivating to read your reactions/comments 🥰
part one | part two | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad
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Sorting things out with Wanda made everything return to normal in no time. So much in fact that she decided I was worth inviting to her and her brother's birthday party.
Never in a million years did I expect the most popular girl in our grade to know who I was, let alone invite me to her birthday party, so to say I was surprised was an understatement.
"It's not a big deal if you can't make it," she said when she handed me the invitation in class. "I mean, I'd love it if you could, but yeah, no pressure."
I was in awe, accepting the invite and reading it quickly. It must have been a pretty expensive party if she was giving out special invites, that's for sure.
"You want me to come?" I asked, still unsure whether this was a joke or not.
"Only if you want to," she said quickly, eyes darting around the room and anywhere but at me. "Like I said, you don't have to. It's not a big deal and– I– yeah." She pressed her lips together and stopped rambling, offering me a small smile.
"Thanks," I said quietly, slotting the invite in my notebook. "I'll, er, I'll think about it."
She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and faced forward, nodding. "Yeah, sure, no rush."
After that awkward conversation, I discovered she'd also invited Y/BF/N, the two of them developing a little friendship the more she'd hung out with me. He didn't mind going, but only wanted to do so if I went.
"I feel like I kinda don't wanna go," I admitted to him after school as we were studying in the library.
"Oh?" He rose an eyebrow. "And why's that?"
I played with the pencil in my hand. "I don't know, it's just– it's gonna be full of all of her other friends. And they don't really like me. Plus, her dick of a boyfriend is gonna be there. I just think she might have invited me to be nice. Like she might have felt like she had to because we sit together, y'know?"
"I think you know that isn't true," he said knowingly. "Maybe, just maybe, she actually wants us there, wants you there, to celebrate her birthday."
I chewed the inside of my mouth, giving it some thought. But the idea of going to Wanda's house party and seeing a bunch of people I didn't care about getting pissed wasn't comforting. Besides, even if I went, I'd probably see Wanda once before she'd get scooped away by Nate. What was the point?
"Nah, I don't think I'm going," I decided. "She won't notice. I'll just get her a present instead."
Y/BF/N sighed, clearly not impressed with my answer. Nonetheless, he said, "Okay, suit yourself."
"You can go if you want," I added, knowing his presence wasn't linked with mine.
"No Y/N, no party," he said with a dismissive shrug, and I couldn't help but smile.
"Such a good friend," I said teasingly, but there was truth to my words. And I knew he knew that. 
When I saw photos and videos of Wanda and Pietro's party all over my social media the day after, I knew I'd made the right choice in not going. It was the same visuals of everyone getting drunk, doing stupid shit and making a mess. Call me a loser, but that wasn't really my scene. Pietro and Wanda both seemed to enjoy it though, judging from the pictures.
Instead, I bought her a birthday present, knowing I didn't have to but I kind of wanted to, and planned to give it to her when she turned up to class. It was her birthday today, despite throwing the party over the weekend, so I hoped it would make up for my absence (thought I doubted she noticed).
She showed up and settled beside me as I was writing the date in my notebook, making me look up to see she'd made an extra effort to dress up for her birthday, looking fancier than usual. I couldn't help but smile at the giant '18' birthday badge pinned to her jacket.
"Happy birthday, Wanda," was the first thing I said when I saw her. "You look amazing."
A bashful smile appeared on her lips. "Thank you, Y/N."
"I hope your party went well," I said, giving her my full attention whilst trying not to drool over how beautiful she looked.
Surprisingly, her smile faded and her eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah, it did... could you not make it? I tried looking for you and– yeah..."
I opened my mouth to speak, admittedly a little embarrassed that she'd caught me out. I was sure she wouldn't notice – the pictures made it seem like there were loads of guests, I'd definitely have blended in if I were there – but clearly I was mistaken.
"I just thought–" she began, before shaking her head. "Never mind."
"Sorry, I thought–" I started, but like her, didn't know what to say. "Parties aren't my thing," I admitted truthfully. "But it looked fun. You enjoyed it, right?"
She nodded, a small forced smile on her lips. "Yeah, right. It's cool. No biggie."
I swallowed awkwardly. It seemed like a biggie and now I felt bad.
"I, er, got you a gift," I blurted, hoping to change the subject. Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out the terribly wrapped present and held it out nervously. "I hope you, er, like it."
Her eyebrows raised as her eyes flickered between the present and I. "Oh? You didn't have to. I wasn't expecting anything."
Was it hot in here or was it just me?
I pulled my collar away from my neck, hoping to circulate some air. "I wanted to. It's not a big deal."
She accepted the gift, fingers brushing mine and making me even more nervous, before opening it up. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she revealed a brand new leather paintbrush carry case.
"The one you always carry around is tattered and falling apart, so I thought I'd get you a new one," I explained, feeling like I had to. "I mean, unless the other one has some sort of sentimental value, then in that case, I can just return this."
"Are you kidding? I love it!" she exclaimed, looking to me with a grin. "It's beautiful, Y/N. I don't even know what else to say."
My shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile tugging at my lips. "Good. Th-that's good. I'm glad you like it."
Without warning, she moved forward off her stool and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I was startled, unable to think straight with her body pressed so close to mine and her floral perfume wafting into my nose. Why did she have to smell so good?
"Thank you," she muttered, pulling away but not quite letting go. Her eyes were glowing as they watched me carefully, accompanying her weak-in-the-knees smile. I was sure I'd melt. "It means a lot."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for fear I'd say something stupid. I resisted the urge to look down at her lips, which were pulled into a small, appreciative smile. She let go of me, looking to the case again and unravelling it. I caught my breath meanwhile, my senses still on override as her perfume lingered.
She was just so damn beautiful.
"Okay, how about this – robotic or organic aliens. Which would you rather invade our planet?" Y/BF/N asked.
I chuckled at his question. "Definitely haven't thought about that one, but let's see..."
We were hanging in the bleachers out near the football field as we waited for football practice to end. Y/BF/N had a Film project to do and needed to film the field, so I offered to help like the good friend I was.
"Probably organic," I answered as I balanced on the bleachers, standing up and tiptoeing down them like steps. "At least we could reason with them if they tried to kill us because they'd have a conscience. Robotic aliens would just be programmed to take over and that's it."
Y/BF/N seemed against the idea as he played with his camera. "Yeah, but if they were robotic, all we'd have to do is launch a missile at them and they'd explode. You can break metal. It's harder to break organic matter."
I stifled a laugh. "You've given this much thought, I see."
He gave me a knowing look. "You telling me you don't think aliens exist?"
I stopped tiptoeing and stood still as I looked down at him with humoured eyes. "You know I know aliens exist."
He waved his hand like that was enough reasoning. "There you go then!"
I laughed, wondering how he thought of this stuff, then continued to balance as I walked down the bleachers. Probably the wrong choice as when I heard a voice call me, I looked up, saw it was Wanda, then proceeded to miss a step and fall onto my arse.
"Oh God, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, moving forward to help me.
My face heated up as Y/BF/N laughed his arse off beside me. I accepted Wanda's hand and let her pull me up, before letting go immediately when I could handle it myself. Her presence always made me nervous, but this was just terrible.
"Yeah, I'm good," I said, glancing at her and freezing at her piercing gaze and suppressed smile.
"You sure?" she asked, glancing at Y/BF/N, before trying to hide her own laughter.
Fuck me, why was I such a mess whenever she was around?
"Very sure," I said, though my back began to ache from where I hit it. "What's up, anyway?"
Y/BF/N finally shut up, to my relief, and Wanda minimised her laughter before scratching her head.
"I'm waiting for practice to end so I can take Pietro home," she said, nodding to the field. "I saw you both sat here and thought I'd say hi. Are you guys watching practice?"
"Not really," I answered, before tilting my head to Y/BF/N. "We're just waiting for it to end so Y/BF/N can film for his project."
"Ooh, that sounds interesting," she said, intrigued and looking to him now. "What's that about?"
As he caught her up on it, I found myself checking Wanda out without realising. She was animated as she listened to Y/BF/N talk about his assignment, eyes giving him all of her attention, and a permanent smile was fixed on her lips as she listened to him. Though it wasn't directed at me, I felt butterflies swirling a storm in my stomach and clutched it, hoping they'd go away. I loved and hated the feeling all at once.
Breaking me from my reverie, a football flew past all three of us and hit the bleachers, startling us all. We looked in the direction it came from and saw the football team looking back at us, some laughing and some disgruntled. Two players ran towards us and when they got close enough, I made them out as Pietro and Nate.
Nate was laughing as he looked between us all, before his gaze fell on me. "It's Y/N, right? I feel like I'm always throwing that thing at you. Sorry about that."
But his constant laughing and lack of guilt refuted his words. I merely clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes his way, not that he seemed to care nor notice. I was a mere fly in a world that revolved around him. He'd never notice.
"Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't even know you were over here," he added, looking to Wanda. "You okay?"
Wanda crossed her arms and seemed frustrated. "I'm fine, Nate. Just get your ball."
He shrugged and grabbed his ball. Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to Wanda's cheek which made me wince, but she made no attempt in enjoying it. He didn't seem to care as he took off running back to his team. Pietro smiled apologetically at the three of us.
"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "He can be such a dick sometimes."
That was the understatement of the century.
With that, he turned and ran back to his team to finish up. Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair, as Y/BF/N and I exchanged glances.
"I should get the car running," she said awkwardly, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and towards the car park. "Good luck with your assignment, Y/BF/N. And I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N."
Waving goodbye with an awkward smile, I watched her leave and wondered the same thing I always did whenever Nate decided to make an appearance in my life.
How could she be dating such a dick?
Apart from the birthday party I didn't go to, I'd never been invited (or had a reason to go) to Wanda's house. I'd seen it, rode my bike past it, but never actually been in it. So, when she invited me to her place to work on a project we'd been assigned in class, I was unsure how to feel. She was adamant though and I had no reason to say no, so the only thing left to do was say yes. Even when she offered to drive me there after school.
"This is your car?" I asked with disbelief.
I knew absolutely nothing about cars, but I wasn't blind. Hers was a gorgeous deep red colour with a convertible roof that was currently lowered so anyone in it would feel the sun on their back and wind in their hair.
"Yeah, you like it?" she asked as she got into the driver's seat.
I gulped and sat in the passenger's seat, throwing my backpack at my feet. "It's so nice. You sure you don't mind me drinking in this?"
I had a Pepsi bottle in my hand and was deathly afraid of opening it now in case I spilt it and the cleaning bill would be more than I made in a year at the pizza parlour.
She laughed, already pulling out of the car park. "Of course. Don't be silly."
I glanced in her direction, trying not to get distracted by how good she looked in the driver's seat. She was wearing a red leather jacket, funnily enough, matching the exterior of her car, and she had dark eyeliner around her eyes, accentuating the shape and colour of them and leaving me speechless whenever she looked my way.
"There's CDs in the glove compartment," she was saying as she focused on the road. "Or you can mess around with the radio. It's up to you."
"CDs?" I asked, it piquing my interest. I reached into the glove compartment, adding, "What is this, the 2000s?"
She rolled her eyes playfully, accepting my teasing, as I flicked through the small stack of albums.
"I don't know, I guess I just like having the physical version," she said with a shrug. "It's kind of like a collection."
I chuckled at her need to explain herself, watching the way she rubbed her neck nervously, smiling with embarrassment. Looking back to the albums, a particular one grabbed my attention and I plucked it out with raised brows.
"Oh my God, you like Paramore?" I asked, looking to her with surprise. "Now it's definitely the 2000s."
Her cheeks flushed as she grew flustered. I nudged her in the side gently, getting her attention briefly.
"I'm kidding," I reassured, tilting my head her way playfully. "I actually love Paramore. They're my favourite band."
"Really?" she asked with surprise as I put the CD in her car. I hummed in response, to which she continued, "Have you ever seen them live?"
As For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic played quietly in the background, I nodded my head. "Yeah, once. It was a few years ago, but the tickets were shitty and I could just about make them out on stage in the distance."
Wanda laughed, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "No, that's so sad!"
I chuckled in agreement. "Yeah. It was, but oh well. They have a tour coming up this summer, right? Maybe I can get better tickets this time 'round... what about you? Have you ever seen them live?"
She hummed, making a turn at some traffic lights and chewing her lower lip as she focused on doing so. It was definitely the wrong time, but I found myself admiring how attractive it was, especially when her jaw tensed and her defined jawline was on display.
"Yeah, I saw them a few times," she finally responded, pulling me from my stupor. "Some really good seats, some really shitty ones." She giggled at the end, making me smile. "Maybe we could go to that concert in the summer. If you're up for it?"
This seemed like one of those times where you made plans with a friend that you knew would never happen, so to not cause an awkwardness in the conversation, I nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, maybe."
She glanced at me and I mirrored her smile, the flash of excitement in her eyes knocking me breathless.
When we reached her house, I was awestruck at how big it was from the inside. I mean, it looked huge from the outside, but the inside was even better. Her family were rich, I knew that, but this was some other level of rich.
"Here, c'mon, I'll get you a drink, then we can go into the dining room to start," Wanda said, failing to recognise my amazement and instead leading me to the kitchen. "We have tropical juice, apple juice, water, Sprite, Cola... which d'you want?"
I settled at the island, taking a seat and subtly admiring her kitchen. "Er, apple juice is fine with me."
She smiled brightly before pouring me a glass, whilst pouring herself some Sprite. Standing opposite me, we both took a moment to have a drink, but didn't get chance to exchange words as her mum entered the room and noticed me instantly.
"Y/N, it's so lovely to see you again!" she said kindly, patting me on the shoulder before heading to the fridge. "You girls hanging out? Studying?"
"We have a project," Wanda filled in as I nodded in agreement. "We alright to claim the dining room?"
After grabbing some water from the fridge, Wanda's mum pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "Sure thing, sweetie. If you need anything, just let me know." Smiling once more at me, she said, "It's good to see you, Y/N."
"You too," I said with a friendly smile before she left.
"Come on," Wanda said, motioning for me to follow. "We have tons to do."
The next hour and a half was spent with Wanda and I planning out our project, our work sprawled along the dining table messily. We were making progress, until she got a call suddenly. It seemed serious as she gave me an apologetic glance and excused herself. I let her go and leaned back in my seat, wondering what I could do as I waited for her to return. That thought was resolved quite quickly when Pietro popped his head in the doorway and spotted me.
"Y/N! What an honour to welcome you to our humble abode," he exclaimed, entering the room fully. "What brings you here?"
Pietro's presence always brought an amused smile to my lips. "Wanda and I are working on a Chemistry project. She's just nipped out for a phone call."
He tutted dramatically, crossing his arms. "Well, well, well. We can't have that! Wanda needs to learn to entertain her guests. C'mon. I was about to head to the gaming room and could use the company."
I was visibly surprised. "You have a gaming room? Dude, that's awesome!"
He laughed. "C'mon."
Joining Pietro, the two of us headed to this so-called gaming room and I was not disappointed. There was a huge TV with a PlayStation and Nintendo Switch connected to it, a snooker table, a foosball table, a dart board, some old arcade games – it was amazing, any gamer's biggest dream.
"What you feeling, princess?" he said with that flirtatious smile of his.
I rolled my eyes playfully. He was being overtly flirty, more so than his sister was – was it a Maximoff personality trait or something? – and I wasn't sure whether he meant it or was just being his usual self.
"Are you flirting?" I deadpanned, tilting my head curiously. "I can't tell."
He pocketed his hands, swinging back on the heels of his feet. "That depends. Is it working?"
Despite my lack of interest in him like that, I felt my face heat up at the attention. "Pietro, I must tell you that any moves you attempt to make kind of won't work."
"And why's that?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the snooker table with a cheeky smile on his lips. "Am I not your type?"
"Unless you change into a girl, then no," I played along, making him flush with embarrassment. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm gay."
"Okay, I guess that makes sense," he mumbled to himself, before sighing and meeting my eyes. "We can still be friends, right? Or is that forbidden since you're already friends with my sister?"
I laughed and approached him. "Friends works. I don't think Wanda will care. I certainly don't."
He grinned. "Awesome! Well, d'you wanna play a round of foosball?"
"Sure," I said with an amused expression. "Bet I can kick your arse."
He pushed himself off the table and feigned surprise. "Oh? Game on, Y/L/N."
I didn't realise how long Wanda had been on the phone until I managed to get through three rounds of foosball and was in the middle of a snooker game with Pietro.
"You may have beat me at foosball, but you're terrible at this," he pointed out with stifled laughter.
I'd missed my third shot and it was more funny than it was embarrassing.
"Your talking distracts me," I said dismissively, before lining up the next shot with my cue.
He watched as I tried to take my shot before sighing loudly. I glanced at him with a quirked brow.
"You have a thought you'd like to share?" I asked playfully.
He hesitated, moving forward to correct my posture. "Look, if you just aim it like this–"
"Don't even think about it, Romeo," I said jokingly, standing up straight and pushing him away gently. "I know what you're thinking."
He laughed. "What? I was just going to help you aim!"
I gave him a knowing look. "So holding me close is just a bonus?"
"Fine, take your shot without my help and see what happens," he said dismissively, waving his hand.
"I'll do just that," I said with confidence, before bending down and taking my shot. The ball hit the other and neither were pocketed, which was an achievement as I'd got the cue ball in several times before, but still pretty shit as I didn't score any points.
Pietro smiled with satisfaction, leaning on his cue. "You happy with that?"
I held in a laugh as I looked to him. "Shut up."
He chuckled before bumping me out the way. "Now for the professional."
Bending down to take his shot, he pulled back his cue before hitting the balls. They rolled around on the table and one ball was about to go in, but I quickly grabbed it before he could get the point.
"Y/N!" he shouted between laughter. "That's cheating!"
"Technically we didn't establish rules," I pointed out, before moving backwards as he tried to grab it from my hand. "What do you say to calling it a draw and playing something else?"
"I say that's a childish way to admit you've lost," he responded, before moving forward quickly. I dodged his attempt and he pursed his lips. "Y/N."
"Pietro."
He smirked. "Seriously?"
I grinned.
He tried to grab it again and ended up chasing me around the room as I avoided giving in. Taking the piss out of Y/BF/N enough times had prepared me for moments like this, so I was able to avoid Pietro long enough to run into whoever walked through the door.
"Shit, Wanda, I'm sorry," I said between laughter, steadying both me and her.
She smiled with confusion, about to speak, but Pietro caught up to me and lifted me up, throwing me onto the couch before I could protest.
"No more cheating," he said sternly, as I lifted my head from the pile of cushions on the couch to look up at him.
"You're an arse," I said, pushing myself up off the couch.
"And you're a sore loser!"
We had a mini staring competition before the two of erupted into laughter.
"You're not half bad, Pietro," I complimented as he helped me up.
"Thank you, princess," he said, the flirtatious smile on his lips again.
I shoved him in the shoulder playfully before looking to Wanda, who was chewing on her lip as she looked between Pietro and I with an unreadable expression.
"So, what prompted you to leave Y/N alone for an hour?" Pietro asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, making me shove him away. He grinned at me before looking to Wanda.
"Nate called," Wanda responded carefully, arms crossed as she continued to look between us. God, I hoped she didn't think Pietro and I liked each other. That would be embarrassing.
Pietro scoffed from beside me, making Wanda sigh with annoyance.
"Don't start, Piet," she said and gave him a look which he seemed to understand.
By the sounds of it, Pietro didn't seem to like Wanda's dick of a boyfriend either. That was strange since wasn't impressing the brother the first part of being in a relationship with someone? And they were on the same football team, so I figured he'd at least tolerate him.
"Are we alright to get back to studying?" Wanda asked, directing her stare to me. The annoyance she held for Pietro was still present in her eyes and I suddenly felt nervous when she looked my way.
"Yeah, of course," I said, before giving Pietro a half-smile. "Rematch at snooker next time. Sound good?"
"Try to keep the balls on the table and we'll see," he teased, before nodding to Wanda. "You should get back to your project before Wanda kills us both with her deadly glare."
I smiled awkwardly, looking back to Wanda as she was indeed glaring at her brother. Clearly there was some sibling rivalry going on here, and I definitely didn't want to get in the middle of it, so I headed to Wanda, signalling I was ready to leave.
The two of us headed back to the dining room in an uncomfortable silence. I felt like I'd done something wrong and she was giving me the silent treatment which was strange. Then I figured it was probably something with Nate that made her annoyed, so didn't question it too much.
We sat back down and I looked at what we'd done so far to try and pick up where we left off, but then she spoke out of the blue, taking me by surprise.
"Do you like my brother?"
It was so abrupt that I took a moment to acknowledge it, blinking. "What?"
"Pietro," she clarified, saying it with such dismissiveness like it wasn't a big deal. Her attention was on the books before us as she continued, "Do you like him?"
I tried not to laugh as I shook my head. "No, Wanda. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. But yeah, no, I don't like him like that."
She chewed her lip, nodding, but I swear I saw a hint of a smile on her lips. I hoped it wasn't the thought of Pietro and I that made her annoyed. I wasn't that bad, was I? I know she cared about her brother and was probably overprotective, but me being his girlfriend couldn't have been that bad, right?
We got back to work in no time, getting a lot done. I didn't realise how late it was getting until Wanda's mum poked her head in, asking if I wanted to stay for dinner.
"Dinner?" I asked, eyebrows raising with surprise. I checked my watch and realised how long I'd been here. "Damn, maybe I should head back."
"Nonsense, you must stay," her mum insisted. "Y/M/N won't mind. A daughter of hers is a daughter of mine."
"You can even sleepover if you want," Wanda offered, and I almost choked on my own spit. "It's getting pretty late."
I shook my head, forcing a small smile so they wouldn't get offended. "Honestly, it's fine. I can head back."
"Please?" Wanda asked with a hopeful expression. "It's the least I can do. I kinda wasted your time for an hour earlier..."
"I should ask my mum," I said, chewing on the inside of my mouth.
"Oh, I'll ring and let her know," Wanda's mum said breezily, before looking to Wanda. "D'you think you can clear your things up? Your brother is gonna set the table."
"Sure, mum." Wanda smiled her way as she left, before looking to me. "I've got clothes and a spare toothbrush you can use tonight."
I smiled awkwardly, nodding. Sleeping over at my crush's house wasn't how I thought I'd be spending my Wednesday evening, yet here we were.
608 notes · View notes
sunlightandsuffering · 3 years ago
Note
Corruption au Eren cockwarms mikasa once they’re together, he says ‘it helps him remember things’ and then every so often he gives her an orgasm just to keep her pliant against him while she plays with her boobs, he doesn’t do it in a cruel kind of way, it just he wants to pleasure her while doing his work
however when they’re not together, he’s such a sadist about it, he refuses to let her come even after he’s done his hw and is just fucking her, he always leaves when he’s done. Until one day when he starts feeling bad, he lets her come and it absolutely ruins him, he becomes obsessed with pleasuring her and seeing her face flushed pink, and hearing the needy sounds she makes and the quiet sighs, and the way her hands frantically move around until he Holds them together
STOP U GUYS KNOW ABOUT MY COCKWARMING OBSESSION STOP IT 😂😂 omg bless corruption Eren tho, this is my favourite kink for him, its so hot and it fits their situation perfectly.
It starts slow for Eren, to be honest he has no fucking idea when it really started. One day he'd been failing calculus, accepting he wasn't going to pass the year and thinking about maybe dealing drugs as a career path over his previous dreams of doctor. The next he was being forced to study three days out of the week with high school princess, Mikasa Ackerman.
At first he'd hated it, hated her really. He'd never been able to stand her, not since they were little and she'd chosen the dark side of Historia Reiss, bully and mean girl if there ever was one. Historia had sweet innocent baby Mikasa under her thumb. Mikasa followed her around like a dumb fucking puppy and Eren hated followers, they were all the same, no personalities, no aspirations of their own. She had no backbone either. She let all the shit Historia did slide, all the bullying, the holier than thou attitude because her family was richer than god. So very typical of the rich kids from the upper class neighbourhood. Eren would know, he used to be that rich kid, used to live that life. That was until his parents died in a brutal car accident, Zeke had inherited half the estate on the condition he'd take care of Eren and the rest was tied up in Eren's trust fund until he was twenty one.
Big surprise, no one had taken care of Eren and he was fucking lucky Armin and his grandpa had been there to help him out.
Everyone else, all his other 'friends' had given him the cold shoulder upon finding out he was no longer rich for the moment, he'd been dropped like a hot potato. So Eren's hatred of the upper class of Shiganshina had begun.
And Mikasa Ackerman was the pinnacle of it all, the worst the rich had to offer. She was beautiful, smart, loaded, had every opportunity in life, completely innocent and sweet, and the cherry on top of it all she volunteered on the weekend at the pound.
She disgusted him, so prim and proper and all around good girl while she was letting her 'friends' bully him for being poor, watching the injustice happen like a fish in a bowl.
He couldn't fucking stand her.
Of course, she would be the person who ended up tutoring him though, Principal Erwin mandating it if he wanted to graduate. So here he was sitting in the computer lab at five on a Wednesday watching her plump lips move as she explained integrals to him for the third time in an hour.
It's been a few months since they've started this little arrangement and he's gotten used to her presence. He wouldn't say he likes her, thats a stretch but he's not quite as cruel as he once was. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get a kick of watching that beautiful mouth part every time he does something mean though, those little gasps when he pinches her thigh or touches her where he shouldn't.
It's probably the highlight of these sessions.
Today he's feeling bold, maybe he'll push his luck. After all, he's done it before and she's never protested. For some reason or another Mikasa Ackerman has a soft spot for him, and no matter how mean, she lets him get away with murder. "Miki, come here I can't hear you properly." "And then you take the-what?" She looks up, pretty dove-grey eyes wide, sparkling as she explains her favourite subject, fucking math.
"You heard me, get over here." As usual, she takes orders so fucking well, it brings out the absolute worst in him. She's standing up and next to him in seconds and he's eye level with her perfect chest, those tits he dreams about every night, ripping her bra off with his teeth and sucking at those pretty pink nipples of hers. He's only seen them a few times, when he convinces her it's okay, when he's sure there's absolutely no one around, but they keep him awake at night. He pats his lap, grinning as she goes easily, settling into her favourite spot, he knows she loves it just as much as he does. Her thighs always shake and she shudders as his hands find their place cupping those beautiful creamy thighs, head tucked into her shoulder.
Mikasa starts talking again, beautiful lilt soothing him as she launches into a renewed explanation of integrals while his hands move up, up, up and to his absolute favourite spot, her panties. Today she's wearing cotton, he can feel it, must be laundry day and he kisses her shoulder as he feels how wet she is. Fucking perfect.
Lately she's been more partial to fancier underwear and he can't help but wonder if it's for him. He has a feeling it is, because the first month of their little arrangement he'd snuck as many peaks as they could and it was always pink or white cotton with polka dots and pretty bows. They were his favourite, so fucking innocent, so untouched by anyone but him.
He watches as she moves her pencil drawing lines and numbers, a little bit of the alphabet too and he ignores it all in favour of watching her chest, her breath hitch as he slides a finger inside her panties, feeling those velvet lips, it's been a while.
He's been on his best behaviour lately since Levi almost caught them at her house that one time, but he's horny and she's wet and he misses being inside her, misses watching her try to talk through him fucking her, how her voice would waver, change pitch. How many times she'd stumble through her sentences, have to start all over again, because she can't handle how big he is, doesn't know how to deal with the all-consuming sensation of him fucking deep within her walls, just sitting there filling her right up to her cervix.
Fuck.
He can't really be blamed for what he does next, and besides it doesn't matter, Eren's not a stupid kid, he allowed himself to get this far behind in calculus. He'd spent an hour last night going over integrals with the sole purpose of knowing what was going on today so he could fuck with his favourite toy.
He moves her a bit so she's resting more heavily on one thigh and slides his joggers and boxers down just enough expose his heavy cock to the air, already rock hard and waiting. Mikasa gasps a little bit, a breathy sound quick and sharp as she sees him, her eyes transfixed on his dick and he grins, sliding her panties to the side and slamming her down on him before she even knows what hit her. The slide is so fucking easy too, it takes almost nothing and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction that even with little to no prep she can take him, probably better than anyone else he's ever fucked. She takes it all no complaints, as deep as she can and he bottoms out.
She lets out a long moan, that pretty sound he wants to record and listen to on his phone over and over again, her head lolling back uselessly against his shoulder as she takes in the sensation.
"Miki baby you know this helps me remember better right, sorry it just wasn't getting through my head I was too distracted, but now I'm all ears, why don't you continue. What's that rule you were talking about, how are derivatives and integrals related again baby, they're opposites?"
She's breathing quick and Eren doesn't blame her, he's struggling to keep his tone level as her walls squeeze him, warm and soft and he wants to stay buried there forever, she's so fucking tight.
"I-Eren-I-yeah, opposites," she finally manages to get the last word out ending a little broken as she struggles to sit up and make herself comfortable on his cock, she should be used to it by now with how often he does this, but it never fails she always reacts like she's taking him for the first time all over again. He fucking loves it.
"Why don't you explain again baby, I don't think I really understand? And make sure you're clear Mikasa." She nods, still squirming around, every movement shooting electricity up through both of them as she accidentally grinds down, she lets out an involuntary moan and Eren smirks.
Eren takes it upon himself to move her up and off his cock a few inches before impaling her back down, biting down on her neck a little bit as punishment and she whines, teeth coming out to bite down on her lip brutally as she tries to keep quiet.
"Stop moving baby, you're distracting me, just take my cock like a good girl and explain for me yeah?" She replies brokenly her voice soft and struggling with her breaths, "Yeah."
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bibliocratic · 4 years ago
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How about Jon Martin and the cursed trip to IKEA?
Thanks for the prompt! :D
I’m sure this absolutely could have been read as like ‘IKEA is not-so-secretly a Spiral domain’ but this non-Euclidean hell-hole is of mortal making I’m sure of it.
(I love and fear you IKEA, never change <3)
 --
“I simply don’t see the reason why we’d ever need them.”
“If we have guests over!”
“We’ve never had guests over.”
“One day we might!”
“And over for what?”
“I dunno! Dinner or something, make a night of it.”
“Martin, neither of us can cook.”
“Well, we could learn.”
“Alright, fine. Pushing that to one side for the moment, my question is why do our hypothetical guests require a different set of fancier cutlery? What’s wrong with the ones we’ve got at home?”
“I mean, nothing really, just… well, it’s a thing, isn’t it? Having some nice stuff to bring out if people come round.”
“Will we be moving on to the fine china aisle next?”
“Maybe! Ha, ha, don’t give me that look – Why not splash out a little? At worst, we just have more forks and some extra knives.”
“…Alright, fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Before I come to my senses. But I reserve the right to refuse guests the good cutlery if they’re undeserving.”
“What, are you planning some rigorous questionnaire they’ve got to pass first?”
“Absolutely. Come on then, the fine china awaits.”
--
Alfonse has never really been one for home improvement. He’s got a rolled-up stick of posters that he’s dragged around from his old room to student digs to slightly nicer student digs since he was a teenager, their corners creased and dotted with blue-tack stains. He’s had the same chipped plate, chipped bowl, chipped cup set since uni, and has been belligerent about swapping them out for anything less likely to shatter the next time he puts it in the dishwasher. But it’s their first flat together, and it feels real, and grown-up, and kind of scary, and he thinks that it’s important to get this part right, to set their life together off with a different start than the other places. Meaning that now, somehow, they’ve got a squeaky-wheeled trolley full of pillows and a cheese grater and storage containers that aren’t see-through plastic boxes and honest-to-god frames for his Quentin Tarantino posters. He’s finding himself entertaining the rather luxurious thought of buying a large and leafy potted plant to brighten up their cramped living room.
Tom is in his element here, and he’s put on his ridiculous reading glasses that Alfonse says make him look like Dame Edna, peering over their chunky glittery frames to inspect the ballroom’s worth of lighting they’ve found themselves amongst. He’s humming as he does so, making notations with the pint-sized pencil they collected at the door. Alfonse is entirely content to let him take the reigns on this one.
He idly people-watches for a while, making noises of interest at another floor lamp when it’s expected of him – the students clearing out the kitchenware section, lugging around the straining blue blags, the parents with children who have been swayed by the toys – before he catches sight of a man circling the desk lamps. Glancing down at his phone, gnawing on his lower lip with some discontent before he glances up and around the terrain before frowning. He swings his phone in an arc, giving the hope of it a hopeful tap, muttering a comeoncomeoncomeon under his breath.
His mobile gives a chirpy buzz, and the man almost hits himself in the ear with the force of answering.
“Where are you?” Alfonse overhears. “I can’t… Jon… Jon, you’re breaking up, yeah, the signal’s… Jon. I’m by the lamps… The lamps. Lamps. I’ve got the trolley, yes, yes – you… hello?”
Alfonse hears a very emphatic fuck’s sake before he decides to go back to Tom and leave the man suffer in private.
--
Sinead’s planted herself on one of the sofas in the well-lit display areas and has committed to not budging an inch for at least ten minutes. The fabric is a cheery yellow, and it suits the colour-coordinated pretend living room, but she’s not sure she’d choose it herself.
She’s getting a headache. Mel’s off with her nephews and nieces over in the kid’s bedroom section and she just needs five more minutes before she can look at another floral wallpaper or toy car bed.
She’s disrupted from massaging her temples by an irate-looking man with some rather intense eyebrow game throwing himself down on the half-egg-shaped armchair nearby, letting forth a truly impressively disgruntled sigh.
“You look like you’re suffering,” she offers, because she is and she wants to know someone else is too, and he nods peevishly and gives another irritated noise.
“I didn’t realise there’d be so much drama involved in buying a sofa,” he grumbles.
“Amen,” she agrees. They share a quiet moment of strung-out solidarity as they sit moulded into the seat cushions.
“… What’s that one called?” the man asks after a moment of stewing in his own mood.
She shrugs but picks up the tag and squints at it.
“Brathult? With one of those… those A’s that have the little bobble hat. Apparently, it comes in yellow, blue and green.”
“Comfortable?”
“Not bad.”
“Hm.” For a while he goes silent. Then he points out two sofas tucked into different displays and artfully layered with appropriate throw pillows; the first, a stocky black number set upon a sleek wooden frame that serve as its legs, the second, a dense cuboid of cushions currently being looked over by in fastidious detail by a tussle-haired man wearing a t-shirt covered in lots of small cartoon cacti.
“Between that one and that one,” her companion in furniture-based suffering says. “What do you think?”
Sinead studies them carefully.
“The second.”
He huffs. It was clearly not the answer he wanted.
“Why?”
“Not sure. I guess, yeah, it’s not as flashy, but the cushions look deeper. And there’s more width there, even just looking at them.”
“But the first one has all that space under it to store things.”
“Yeah, but you just know it’s going to build up with dust, and you’d be having to get the hoover under it all the time. It seems a bit finnicky.”
The man gives a considering nod.
“You’re right.”
He hefts himself up and calls over to the other display room: “Martin!”
The tussle-haired man whirls around.
Her companion holds up his hands. “You were right. The second one.”
The tussle-haired man looks smugly victorious. Sinead tries to hide her smirk at the sight.
--
Andy’s heaving the flat-pack box for a small bookcase into their trolley when they hear a conversation bleed through from the other side of the huge metal shelves in the warehouse part of the store.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it.”
“It’s coming down on my side – woahwoahwoah – ”
“It’s – Christ, swing it this way a bit – ”
“I’ve not – Jon, I’ve not got – it’s – Jon, it’s slipping.”
“Put it down – DOWN – yes, that’s… Right. Let’s… let’s just have a moment. Catch our breath.”
“God, why’s it so heavy? It’s not like it’s even that big!”
Andy pops their head around to the other side of the shelf. Two men are puffing and sweaty, the colour on their faces blooming with exertion. Between the two of them is the long and bulky cardboard box they are clearly trying to manhandle into their trolley.
“Do you… um, do you need a hand?” they ask.
The shorter one waves a polite but dismissive hand before they manage to wrangle some air into their lungs.
“We’re good, thanks.” He says. The taller one raises an eyebrow.
Andy knows well enough to leave them to it.
--
“Hmmm! You weren’t lying about the meatballs.”
“I know right, like, what’s the secret?”
“Probably E-numbers.”
“Don’t ruin these for me, Jon!”
“Haha, alright. Help me out with the chips?”
“You finished?”
“The hot dog was enough, I’m getting full.”
“Pass them over then…. You know, I think we did alright with our spoils today. And it wasn’t so bad, all told.”
“We have to get this all in the car yet.”
“God, don’t remind me.”
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we-love-imagines · 4 years ago
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What the Jojo’s would get their (s/o) for their birthday
Hello everyone! My birthday is coming up soon, so I thought I’d take a little break from Last Train Home to write a fun little drabble. It’s just the anime only +SO for right now, I’m halfway through SBR! If you have any requests more more thinks like this, Feel free to reply/ PM me!
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Jonathan Joestar
Jonathan is traditional in the sense that he likes simple, yet elegant gifts. He’s definitely the type to get you a fancy piece of jewelry, take you out to dinner, and enjoy a nice evening with you.
He’s a little scared that you won’t like surprises, so he’ll tell you his plans, and may even go so far to check if you like his gift before he buys it.
Even though he’s always a sweetheart, expect a huge wave of affection on your special day. Hugs, Kisses, Cuddles- whatever you want, he’ll give it to you.
If you have a specific hobby you partake in a lot (Painting, Writing, Music, ect.), he’ll get you something in that regard. He might get you a very expensive set of paints, a new instrument, a book you’ve had you eye on, whatever!
All he wants is to make you happy. Even though his gestures are kind of cliché and sappy, you can tell he put a lot of thought and love into them.
Ask and ye shall receive!
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Joseph Joestar
Honestly, He kinda forgot.
But don’t worry! He was planning something! A spur-of-the-moment adventure!
He’d take you to a fun bar, on a scenic drive, or to a little fair for your birthday. Even when he remembers, he’s more focused on spending a fun day with you rather than material gift giving.
When he does get you something, however, it’s usually a memento of whatever you did that day. Like the stuffed animal he won you at the fair, a snowglobe from the beach, or a cute photo you two took.
Despite the lack of planning, he’ll make sure you have the most fun possible. He wants to see you smiling and laughing throughout the entire day.
He’s a little clumsy, but he means well!
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Jotaro Kujo
Look, this guy is not one for affection, but he BRINGS IT on your birthday.
He plans it months ahead. He wants to give you an experience you’ll never forget. This includes mini-vacations, trips to a fancy spa, or renting a private house on the beach. I mean, he’s got the money...
Jotaro is a very left-brain guy, so in terms of material gift giving, he’d probably get you something practical. Having back pain? Uh- here’s a back pillow. Need a pencil sharpener for your job? Here’s a pencil sharpener.
They’re not the most romantic gifts, but it shows that he listens. He’s more focused on the events he’s planning, anyways.
During these little trips he’s a tad more affectionate than usual. While he’s usually not very into PDA, he’ll hold your hand while you two explore the new location.
Jotaro isn’t one for words, so he shows that he cares by giving you a memorable day.
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Josuke Higashikata 
This kid is the birthday KING. From the moment you wake up to when you go to sleep, he’s working.
Totally the type to throw you a surprise party (unless you’re not about that!). He’ll get the whole gang together at Tonio’s and lure you in, telling you that’ll just be the two of you. He loves the look on your face when you see everyone there!
He’s all about gift-giving too! He’ll get you some designer shoes you’ve had your eye on, beauty products, and lots of little goodies just for you!
He would also probably get you a gag gift. Even if you’re an adult, expect at least one Barbie doll or a nerf gun, just for giggles.
Poor boy would try to make your cake himself. He swears up and down that he followed the recipe to the tee, but he’ll end up asking Tonio to make you one after a few botched attempts.
Josuke’s goal is to make you feel special! You’re the star!
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Giorno Giovanna
Oh boy, Giorno will treat you like royalty for the day! Like, almost excessively.
If you don’t wanna walk that day, he’ll carry you. What you say goes!
He’ll start off by making you breakfast in bed. It’s cheesy, but he does it in such earnest it’s sweet!
For the rest of the day, expect little surprises while you’re pampered. Wanna see a movie? He’s rented out the whole theatre so it’s just the two of you. Hungry? Don’t worry, he already has a reservation at the most exclusive restaurant in town. Wanna just lay around all day and cuddle? He’s already got face masks, bath bombs, and nail polish for the perfect at-home spa day.
When it comes to physical gifts, Giorno writes the SWEETEST cards. Long, flowery messages straight from the heart.
He’ll like to get you something you’ll use/ enjoy. Books, games, clothing- something that will make you smile. He’ll probably surprise you with something a little fancier too, like some nice jewelry.
He wants to make you feel loved, first and foremost!
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Jolyne Cujoh
Jolyne is pretty laid back when it comes to birthdays, but she still wants to show how much she loves you.
Expect a fun date! She’ll take you to a theme park, water park, outdoors for a nice picnic- anyplace where you guys can have some fun and get into a little trouble.
She’s the type who would get you gifts you two could use together. A two-player videogame, a camera, maybe even one of those sappy ‘couple’s journals’ if she’s feeling sentimental.
If you’re more of an indoor person, she’ll attempt to make you you’re favorite meal, curl up with you on the couch, and watch your favorite movie/show. It’s simple, but she knows you enjoy the little moments.
Jolyne just wants to have some quality time with you on your birthday. If it makes you smile, she’s all over it.
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dausy · 3 years ago
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So I did another art challenge. I found some cheap art supplies at my local Pop Shelf which is essentially a fancier dollar store. I was really impressed that they had gouache paints and watercolor pencils..but mainly the gouache paints.
because professional gouache as it is is hard to find outside the internet. I mentioned elsewhere but I have a local custom framing store that sells art supplies to like..college kids..and this framing store holds your normal Bob Ross level professional paints. They have the oil paints and the old crusty papers and canvases. Its not your hobby shop like hobby lobby or michaels. But even they have like 5 tubes of regular gouache and they been sittin' there a while. Rust on them. Packaging looks 15 years old. You're lucky to live near a Blick and get you holbein acrylic gouache but even good luck finding just gouache gouache...so I was really curious about these cheap paints.
I mean there wasn't really a high expectation it was just curiousity..because why gouache? watercolors and acrylic I get..but..why..gouache!?!?
they did suck lmao. I did struggle quite a bit but I managed to successfully do a thing. I got as far as I could which was majority of base colors before I cheated and went back to my regular art supplies to do some last ditch smoothing and final touches. She came out cuter than expected.
Especially because this was kind of like..a reject..sketch. I didn't want to ruin something I actually liked with crap paints but I also just..didn't..like this drawing. What I wanted to actually do was something else but it would have been really monochromatic and I didn't think that was going to be a sufficient paint test. So kitty and birds I think I used almost every color.
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changyang-cloud · 3 years ago
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am i cruel? am i ignorant, or was i fooled?
asexual awareness week day 3; nhs/mxy
Painting Mo Xuanyu was the familiar conclusion to Nie Huaisang’s long, harrowing week. It gave a sense of relief after countless disappointments. A sense of comfort after hours straight spent on edge. 
They had done this every week for the better part of three years now. Of course, the medium changes. Charcoal sketches, watercolour paintings - he’d even tried pastels for a while. When they’d first met, Mo Xuanyu had been an eager ball of determination, in contrast to Nie Huaisang’s unhoned talent and rather poor work ethic. At the first sign of something mildly challenging at their school for the arts, Nie Huaisang had wanted to give up. But Mo Xuanyu saw his sketches and complimented the arduously, asking, “Sang-gege, will you draw me?”
Nie Huaisang had agreed, using only pencil and paper to create a piece in Mo Xuanyu’s likeness.
Thanks to this, Nie Huaisang didn’t drop out, and he asked Mo Xuanyu to keep modeling for him. He developed his technique through week after week of sketches, practiced inking and colouring as they came, and eventually got an A- on his semester final project. 
It was life-changing, their friendship. For both of them, although Nie Huaisang hadn’t learned about that until later. 
Mo Xuanyu was five years younger than him, only twenty-three this year, while Nie Huaisang was twenty-eight. In five years less of life, he had gone through so, so much more than Nie Huaisang could have imagined dealing with. 
He was raised by a single mother, living with his aunt and uncle, because they could hardly afford food, much less their own place. His father was alive, in fact he had been doing extremely well. And yet Mo Xuanyu had to struggle each and every day, even as a child, simply because of his arrogance and wanting to maintain his image.
Mo Xuanyu’s half-brother was less of an asshole, Nie Huaisang supposed. After Mo Xuanyu’s mother died, his half-brother - older than him by ten years - had convinced their father to take responsibility of him. He had sent Mo Xuanyu to the academy their family ran, a fancier place than even Nie Huaisang went to, if one were to look only at the school’s annual spendings. 
That could have been the turning point in a great rags-to-riches story, but it wasn’t. Mo Xuanyu had never attended a school nearly half as good as that one, and he struggled to keep up. He seemed to have no talent in anything, despite his eagerness to do well. He had gotten involved with a pretty terrible kid in his class, with good grades but a terrible attitude, and it only caused more problems with his family. 
The scars on Mo Xuanyu’s arms and back were evidence of all of this, numbering at least a dozen at varying levels of noticeable in their colouration. Many had been self-inflicted, but clearly not all. 
It was hard to look at Mo Xuanyu the same after that - this bright kid, always so eager to please - which Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but feel guilty about, but what could he do about it? 
He felt guilty about a lot of things, whenever he looked at Mo Xuanyu. Guilty that he could grow up with such a caring Da-ge, who may have been harsh, but always tried to do what was best for him, even when their parents had long passed. Guilty when he saw Mo Xuanyu’s eyes light up at the smallest act of kindness. Guilty that he could be this close to him, after everyone else in his position had hurt Mo Xuanyu so badly. 
What if he was no better than Mo Xuanyu’s previous boyfriend? 
Oh, now you’re really getting ahead of yourself, Nie Huaisang thought to himself. He had definitely fantasized about having that kind of relationship with Mo Xuanyu before, or at least something like it. And he was fairly certain Mo Xuanyu was flirting with him, too. But-- 
They’d never discussed it, okay? 
And now he was afraid to bring it up. He was afraid to sign onto something like that, for fear he’d mess it all up. 
“Sang-gege,” Mo Xuanyu said softly, and Nie Huaisang let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, letting his hand fall from where he was supposed to be preparing his canvas.
Nie Huaisang had been finally starting to relax, sitting down to paint his friend as he had done so many times before. But the second he saw the scar that wrapped around Mo Xuanyu’s lower back, then disappeared beneath the waistline of his skirt, he could no longer focus.
Mo Xuanyu finished pulling the baggy hoodie over his head, and walked over to where Nie Huaisang was sitting, his head tilted in a curious gesture that Nie Huaisang usually found cute.
It was hard to, now, but he had to admit it still was.
“Is something the matter?” Mo Xuanyu asked, and when Nie Huaisang refused to reply, or even meet his eyes, he reached for his hands instead. He didn’t saying anything for a while, just twirling the black ring on Nie Huaisang’s right middle finger, and eventually humming, “You can tell me, if there is.” 
And Nie Huaisang was so, so tempted to. He wanted to just say how he felt, straight up, without any sugar coating or dancing around the topic. But how could he? Would he dare to bring it up, knowing how much it might upset Mo Xuanyu?
“You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings, Sang-gege,” Mo Xuanyu said, as if reading his mind. 
Nie Huaisang objected. “I-I’m not!”
Mo Xuanyu frowned up at him, failing to hide an amused expression. He waited a moment, then took a breath, saying gently, “It’s okay that you’re scared to hurt me. Maybe it’s even a good thing. Those who hurt me before, they were never afraid of it like you are.”
Is that supposed to be comforting?
...But to a degree, it was? 
Nie Huaisang almost laughed, but he still couldn’t.
“Sang-gege, I like you.”
“I--” Nie Huaisang hesitated. “I like you too,” he admitted. Because it was true, in a way. “But…” His eyes drifted back to the ring on his finger. 
Mo Xuanyu followed his gaze, then smiled softly in understanding. “Sang-ge, we’re both adults,” he said, and Nie Huaisang startled more than he should have at the reminder. “It’s okay to talk about these things, you don’t have to try and protect me.”
“I wasn’t--” he tried to deny. But he was, wasn’t he? He still was.
“If you’re uncomfortable with something I do, you should tell me,” Mo Xuanyu continued. “And likewise, I’ll tell you if anything you’re doing makes me feel unsafe. Okay?”
Hearing it in such plain terms, Nie Huaisang suddenly felt as if his anxiety over this conversation was somewhat unwarranted. “A-Are you sure?”
Mo Xuanyu laughed. “Of course! Sang-gege, do you not trust me?”
“I still don’t know if what I feel towards you is romantic,” Nie Huaisang reminded him, still doubtful. 
Mo Xuanyu only smiled, reaching up to place his free hand against the side of Nie Huaisang’s face, brushing the thumb across his cheekbone. “It’s okay if it’s not. I just want to be near you,” he said sincerely. “I’ve never felt as comfortable as this, whatever it is for us.”
Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but share the sentiment. 
“Are you feeling better?” Mo Xuanyu asked after a few more moments. “We still have a painting to do,” he reminded.
Nie Huaisang laughed, taking a second longer to take comfort in Mo Xuanyu’s touch, before nodding. “Let’s do it.”
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sombreboy · 5 years ago
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Corrupted | yandere!myg
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▎ 18+ ▎ xtremity; 6 ▎ pairing: yandere!myg x y/n ▎ genre: smut, mafia au ▎ word count: 5.8k ▎ warnings: toxic/possessive behavior, myg cuts kth, oral(f!rec), cursing/dirtytalk, unprotected sex. 
You're the sweetest of fruits, the aura of purity surrounding you sparks a fire within Min Yoongi that has him utterly smitten with an obsessive need for you in every way possible. He brings you into his world as his personal secretary, but in reality he doesn't need it. What he craves with his entire being is to corrupt the pure angel that is you with his carnal desires.
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Min Yoongi.
The most powerful and renown of men within the mafia realm.
Feared by companies, feared by men, desired by women.
He's extremely intelligent and a delicate planner, loyal to the bone if you've earned it & utterly merciless, thus have grown to become what people would call an invincible man. No one dared to try to play him at this point. Many have tried, and they'd be politely greeted with their boss' heart on a silver platter. And word travels fast
With a flick of his wrist he could end anybody's opportunities and connections.
Everyone wanted to become his ally, because if you can't beat them, join them, as they say.
And with power, comes responsibility.. And a disgusting amount of wealth.
Dirty cash, yes. But money is money to him.
Throughout the years he'd been building his empire, starting from the bottom until he's so high up nobody could dream to get even remotely close to his level.
But something was missing in Min Yoongi's Life.
Even with this incredible amount of power, which he loved... He loved it, the power kink he's developed ingrained within him along with other questionable ways of getting his adrenaline pumping.
But he's grown quite bored of the one night stands. Those girls were already dirty, corrupted and let him do whatever he wanted. They were gladly a whore for his cash, and it was a fun time killer for a while... But it's grown oh so dull.
As if fate was on his side (hah), his world was turned around when he was going through the sent in applications for the position to become his personal secretary. He technically didn't need it, but 'some work load off his shoulders' didn't sound all too bad, as his right hand Taehyung had urged him to finally do something about.
He sighed in disappointment as he flipped through the resumes. To be honest, he didn't bother to read most of them, and simply took a quick glance at the photos provided of the applicant.
''Hey boss, did you look through the apps yet?''
Taehyung carefully closed the door behind him before strolling up to stand next to Yoongi's large office chair, bending slightly to get a view of the papers as well.
''I am currently, as you can probably tell.'' Yoongi answered, a mild annoyance in his voice as he crumples up one of the papers into a ball before throwing it at Taehyung, whom only scoffs in amusement.
''What about this one? She's very qualified.'' Taehyung continues as he leans over the desk to point at the woman's previous experiences.
Yoongi sighs, ''She's perfectly qualified, but if you look closely you can also see that she's worked for one of our competitors. Can't trust that.''
Taehyung raises his eyebrows followed with a quiet 'ah', skimming through the stack of papers himself in silence.
That's when Min Yoongi suddenly leaned forward in his chair, causing it to shriek out by the sudden movement, startling Taehyung.
''Let me see that one again. Go back.''
Taehyung's eyebrows were drawn together in confusion, but he did as told and went back to the one resume his boss seemed oddly interested in. He picked it out of the stack, and quickly Yoongi snatched it from his hands to put it flat down on the desk in front of him.
''Boss, she's not qualified at all...''
''Silence.''
Yoongi fished out his reading glasses from his pocket and put them on, bringing the paper closer to his face to get a proper look at your face. His tongue snaked out to wet his lips, a common habit of his when in deep focus. A new feeling came to life within his usually so monotone soul. Well, it wasn't new... He knew exactly what this emotion was.
''I want her here by tomorrow, Taehyung.'' He said as he handed the paper over to his right hand man.
Taehyung was shocked, and it was obvious in his expression, ''T-tomorrow? That's such a short notice, Yoon-''
''I'm sorry, but did it sound like I was asking you, Mr. Kim? Tomorrow, 9 a.m Sharp. I shall have her desk in order for her outside of my office by then.''
Taehyung looked at your photo as he licked his lips in thought. He's seen this look on his friend-... boss this way only once before. And it didn't end well, because he ...'let her go', as he'd been told to phrase it.
''Yes... I'm on it, right away.''
Yoongi observed his right hand man exiting his office, a fire burning up in his core as he clasped his hands on the table whilst staring blankly into nothingness.
This time he wouldn't make the same mistake.
This time he'd have more self control. He's certain of it.
You were over the moon when the news reached you over the phone, a certain Mr. Kim personally congratulating you for being hired as the secretary for the Mr. Min Yoongi himself.
You'd been throwing out resumes everywhere, and never in a million years did you expect to hear back from this one. It was a long shot, but turns out that miracles do happen.
''Thank you, thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Kim!''
A vibrating chuckle echoed through the call, ''Don't thank me, Mr. Min personally asked me to hire you.''
You remained silent, not able to properly register what was just said.
So Taehyung continued,
''He also requires you to be available to start right away, tomorrow. 9 a.m.''
You choked on your own breath, ''Tomorrow? That's..''
''A very short notice, I'm aware. But there is no room for negotiation, so if you would please accomodate to his wishes...''
You nodded, blushing when you realize he can't see you, so you croax out,
''Y-yes, It's no problem. I'll come tomorrow.''
Taehyung giggles, this time sounding a lot more lighthearted,
''9 a.m, don't be late. Good luck- I mean... Congratulations. It will be a pleasure to work with you.''
And with that, this Mr. Kim hung up on you, leaving you in the silence on the other end.
A wide smile spread across your face as you went to bed that night, excited for new opportunities and a higher paycheck.
8.45 a.m
You anxiously stepped into the grand building entrance, dressed in your favorite work appropriate outfit.
It was simple, really; A cream white dress-shirt fitted to your curves with a flattering v-neck, matched with a black waist high pencil skirt that ended just above your knees, topped off with a pair of cute, black low heels.
You were greeted by a handsome young man standing by the front desk, confidently striding over to you with a box-shaped smile on his lips as he reached his hand out to grab yours,
''Good morning, Miss L/N. Im Kim Taehyung, you spoke with me on the phone last night. On time, even a little early. You're putting in a good impression already.'
You bow before accepting his hand, which he shakes lightly before letting go. He gestures with his hand for you to follow him into the elevator.
Standing there, he presses the button to the floor on the very top, watching the doors close before redirecting his attention to you,
''If you have any questions regarding any matter, don't hesitate to ask me. It is my job after all.''
He looked almost apologetic, and you shoot him a soft smile,
''Thank you. I'm curious, actually...''
''Anything at all, I will do my best to answer you.''
''Well,'' You shift the weight on your feet, ''I don't really know much about secretary work... And I'm quite nervous that I won't live up to Mr.Min's expectations.''
Taehyung's smile softens, a vague hint of concern in his eyes. He puts his hand on your shoulder in reassurance,
''Don't worry too much. That's why I'm here, to teach you and guide you. We know your experience isn't as high as it could've been, but Mr. Min insisted for it to be you.''
You look up at him with confusion, ''Why did he insist?''
Taehyung bit his lip, knowing he probably said too much. He shook his head with a dismissive smile,
''I believe he saw potential, and the fact that you have no past experience means we don't have to worry about other companies being behind you to try to get at our company.''
You froze for a second, his choice of words kind of didn't make sense to you. But before you were able to say anything else, the elevator doors opened.
Taehyung let his hand move from your shoulder to the small of your back to guide you out of the elevator, ushering you to walk next to him.
He halted at a big desk in the lobby outside of an office with a big sign hanging on the door,
Mr. Min Yoongi.
You put your purse down on the big desk. Your desk. It was a lot fancier than you imagined, and the large office chair looked extremely comfortable and high end, almost like a throne.
Meanwhile, Taehyung knocked on the office door to your new boss and carefully opened it, leaning in to announce your arrival. He came back out, nudging his chin in the office's direction,
''He's waiting for you.''
''Oh, I better head in then. I'm nervous...'' You straightened out the pencil skirt while Taehyung walked up closer to you with a reassuring smile, placing his hand on your shoulder once more before speaking,
''Good luck.''
And with that, he returned to the elevator, a small wave thrown your way before the doors closed on him.
You took a deep breath, straightening your posture before carefully opening the door, peeking inside.
''Don't be shy. Come in.''
Closing the door behind you, you finally let out the breath you've been holding. He beckoned for you to come closer,
''Have a seat.''
You sit down in front of him, hands clasped in your lap as you finally get a good look at the man you're now working for.
He was incredibly good looking, pale clear skin, blonde hair that was neatly styled to frame his face. He was dressed in a very expensive suit, definitely personally tailored to fit his frame like a glove.
His eyes, however, were completely unreadable. Beautiful, yes, the feline-like shape and intense stare piercing through you like a sharpened knife, but there was no indication of any emotion whatsoever.
Until his lips curled up in a gummy-like smile, instantly softening his entire expression. He was almost too beautiful.
To be honest, you had expected somebody older. Much older, considering the grand Company and it's reputation (which you didn't know that much of, but you did a tiny bit of research before getting here.).
''What are you thinking about?'' He interrupted your thoughts.
You smiled shyly, looking down at your lap, twiddling your fingers anxiously,
''It's silly...''
He leaned forward, his chin resting in his palm as he keeps his gaze fixed on you with genuine interest,
''Tell me.''
You nod, one hand running through your hair to put strands of it behind your ear. The action alone had Yoongi's chest erupt into fireworks, mouth already watering at the flustered state you're in. He loved feeling so powerful, the status difference between the two of you so apparent.
''Well, I was just thinking that you weren't at all how I imagined the Min Yoongi to be.''
He tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips,
''Oh? Then what did you imagine 'The Min Yoongi' to be?''
''I kind of imagined you as an old man, considering..'' You gesture around you to emphasize, ''All of this. How did you manage to create all of this at such an age.''
He scoffed, amused, ''Understandable.''
''It's just impressive, is all.''
The praise hit him differently. He's never heard his success to be described as 'impressive', and he's sure you wouldn't say that if you knew the things he'd done to get here. But still... When it came from your lips, he almost felt proud.
''And now you're part of it.''
A long moment of silence followed, Yoongi simply keeping his eyes on you as if he's dissecting you with his eyes. You slowly started to feel fidgety, not sure what to do or say in this situation, and he was thriving off of it. The uncertainty in your eyes, the way you kept playing with your hair. He finally broke the silence by pulling out a stack of documents from his desk drawer and dropping it in front of you with a loud thud, causing you to jump in your chair.
''I want you to digitalize these documents for me and then send them to my e-mail. Everything is set up for you on the computer by your desk, and if you have any questions just call for Mr. Kim or give me a knock.''
You were surprised by the sudden change from conversation to business, but you stood up and took the Heavy stack of documents into your arms, bowing politely at your boss,
''Yes.''
He placed his hands on his hips, clacking his tongue once in disapproval,
''In here, you're to address me as Sir... So, try again.''
You exhaled quietly, his entire change in demeanor making you feel both weak and excited at once,
''Yes, sir.''
He nodded, a flick of his wrist to usher for you to leave.
''Good girl. Dismissed.''
You bowed once more, a blush on your cheeks before hurrying out of his office to get to work.
Yoongi threw himself back against the backrest of his chair with a groan as soon as the door closed behind you. Hissing curses to himself as he looked down on his lap, the strained fabric caging his prominent erection had given him hell Throughout the entire conversation. How did you affect him so greatly?
Fuck, he wanted you so badly already.
He wanted to take this slower. He really did. Give you time... Enough time to maybe love him too.
But he's so incredibly impatient.
''Min Yoongi... Control yourself.'' He whispered to himself as he palmed himself through the fabric of his dress pants, a soft, vibrating groan rumbling in his chest at the thought of you on your knees underneath his desk.
Just a little more patience.
You were finally getting the hang of this, but you sure hoped he didn't expect you to finish this entire stack today. It was way too much.
You leaned back into your chair with a sigh, glancing over at the Clock.
Crap, you hadn't eaten lunch yet! And the day just literally flew by.
Just as if on call, Taehyung waltzed out of the elevator with a big boxy grin on his face as he came up to you.
''Hello, secretary. I was gonna ask if you've had your lunch yet? Me and some coworkers are having some takeout on the floor below if you'd like to join.''
You were almost about to say no, but then your stomach protested,
''Actually, that would be Lovely. I'm starving!''
You got up and walked towards the elevator with Taehyung before halting, glancing over at your boss' office.
''What about Mr. Min?''
Taehyung shrugged, ''He never eats with us.''
You pout, ''Do you ever ask?''
Tae looks guilty, ''Not lately.''
''What?! I bet he's super hungry too, I'm gonna ask.''
You strode over to the office door without a thought, not listening to Taehyung's protests in the back before knocking and opening the door without waiting, peeking in to simply see the back of Yoongi's chair facing you.
''Sir?''
The chair turned around slowly, the very same handsome man as you saw this morning looking slightly less put together in a way staring back at you. Something was different, yet not.
''What can I do for you, y/n?''
''I-I was just... gonna ask if you wanted to come with me and Tae- Mr. Kim downstairs for lunch...If you're not too busy.''
You didn't know why, but the air felt thicker in his office, and you felt as if you shrunk underneath his gaze.
He licked his lips in thought before nodding,
''I'll be right there. Go ahead without me.''
You couldn't help but smile, giving him a nod before closing the door, heading back to Taehyung, who's looking at you dumbfounded.
''He rejected you, didn't he? I told you he-''
You held up your hand to silence Taehyung, a victorious smile on your lips,
''He said he's coming, but we could go ahead.''
Taehyung's jaw dropped before breaking into an amused smile, ''No way...''
Yoongi stood up from his chair, taking a moment to take a good look at himself in the large body mirror on his wall. He ran his fingers through his hair as to fix the slight mess he'd caused. How inconvenient that you'd walked in on him just after he'd relieved himself off some well needed stress.
How couldn't he, you drove him mad, his body is aching for you already.
He was surprised that you'd asked him to join you for lunch, and part of him was thrilled. This was a good step, a good development. You must already feel something for him. You're closer to being wrapped around his finger.
As he made his way down to the staff room, he saw you sitting with his other employees, chatting and smiling. You looked gorgeous.
But Yoongi was boiling at the way you smiled, because it wasn't directed towards him, but towards his own right hand man, Taehyung. And he had the audacity to smile back, sitting way too close to you.
The entire room fell silent when they noticed Yoongi's presence, he casually sat down across from you at the table, as the space next to you was already occupied by Taehyung.
''W-welcome, boss.'' Jung Hoseok exclaimed with an uncertain smile.
Yoongi nodded in acknowledgement,
''What are we having?''
You smiled widely, completely oblivious to the tension between the others at his presence, pushing forward a takeout box in front of him,
''Chinese! It's delicious, try it!''
Yoongi scrunched his nose. He hadn't had takeout in years, accustomed to a more expensive taste at this point. But it was you... You offered this to him. The others anxiously shared looks, knowing that if they were the ones who would've so casually offered this to him, he wouldn't have reacted all that kindly.
''Thank you.'' He simply responded as he opened it, grabbing a pair of chopsticks before calmy diggin into it.
Everyone's eyes widened, but as soon as Yoongi looked up they hurried to continue eating and chatting as if their stern boss didn't just THANK the new employee.
You smiled, ''Good, huh?''
Yoongi nods, saying nothing as he chews his food. He almost looked harmless, cute even with the way his cheeks puffed up when they were full of food.
You turned to Taehyung to continue a conversation that you had going on before Yoongi's arrival. He listened in, and it was purely business talk, but the way you were leaned in and so casually addressing his by his birth name had Yoongi's blood boiling once again. This was no good. His right hand man knows that you were his, his only. HIS. He better step back on the casualty.
Taehyung didn't. He smiled back, conversing way too nicely the entire lunch, and it did nothing but spur Yoongi's possessiveness on.
He's too far gone. He knew that. There's no way he'd be able to wait longer, he needed to claim you before anyone else did. At least that's how it felt in his world.
Yoongi put his food back on the table when he finished, taking a sip of his water before standing back up, making the chair scrape and screech against the floors which silences everyone once more.
''I'm heading back. Thank you for the lunch.''
Everyone bows and nods at their boss, including you. He gives Taehyung a piercing glare before saying one last thing,
''Mr. Kim, stop by my office when you're finished.''
''You asked for me, boss?''
As he's done countless of times before, he steps inside of Yoongi's office, striding over to stand in front of the familiar desk. He kept his hands in the pockets of his dresspants, swallowing tightly as to where his adam's apple bobs heavily. He knows it couldn't be good.
''Sit down, get comfortable.. Why would you act as if I'm a stranger to you, hm?''
Taehyung hesitantly sits down in front of Yoongi, whom is sitting frozen in Place with his hands clasped together on the table before speaking once more,
''Mr. Kim Taehyung. You're my right hand, aren't you?''
Taehyung nods.
''But first and foremost, you're also my friend, correct?''
''Correct..''
''So you're loyal to me, no? You'd do anything to prove your loyalty?''
Taehyung didn't like where this was going, but he nodded with a confused expression.
Yoongi suddenly lunges forward, a tight fist grabbing onto Taehyung's collar to pull him forward over the desk until their faces are merely inches apart.
''Then you will understand why I am doing what I am about to do.'' Yoongi growls out.
Taehyung reaches up to claw at Yoongis tight hold, gasping for air,
''W-what the fuck Yoongi... Let go!''
Yoongi holds him in an iron claw grip as his other hand reaches to grab onto Taehyung's wrist, then lets his collar go. Taehyung gasps for air, not registering when Yoongi pushes Tae's palm flat down on the desk Surface and holds in in Place as he reaches for something in his desk drawer.
''Boss, what is this about, w-what are you– FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!''
Taehyung whines out in pain when Yoongi had pulled out a small, golden plated knife and didn't hesitate for even a second before letting it chomp down at the tip of Taehyung's ring finger. It was just enough to cause immense pain, a bleeding, but not so much that it'd be noticeable in the long run. He had considered taking a whole finger, but since Taehyung was his closest friend, he felt generous.
Yoongi let go and sat back down in his chair, calmly watching Taehyung hiss and curse as he hid his finger to keep pressure in the fabric of his shirt. He looked up at his boss with anger, and fear, and Disappointment.
''What the fuck was that for, YOONGI?!''
Yoongi clacked his tongue as he cleaned off the blood from his knife with a napkin,
''For overstepping boundaries.''
''I OVERSTEPPED BOUNDARIES?!'' Tae yelled while staring at the knife.
Yoongi stared up at Taehyung, ''You're being too friendly with what's mine. You know I don't like that.''
Taehyung scoffs, ''YOURS?''
''Taehyung...''
''Seriously, I'm worried about you Yoongi, and I stay by you through it all. But what if you end up repeating the same shit you did four years ago? I already see the way you look at y/n.''
Yoongi's eye twitched at the reminder, stopping his movements of cleaning the knife, ''Watch your mouth. That's none of your business.''
''Isn't it though? I'm your right hand, I'm supposed to give you my advice if needed.''
''You're supposed to keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your job... And your fingers.''
Taehyung admits defeat, and sighs, ''Anything else?''
Yoongi shakes his head, ''As long as you understand.''
Taehyung gets up and walks towards the door, looking back at his friend...boss, one last time with a concerned expression,
''Just... She's too pure... Don't repeat the same mistakes.''
Yoongi's jaw clenches,
''I'm different now. Dismissed.''
Yoongi had kept his fair distance the following week, letting you simply do your job. Everytime he saw you interact with any of the other employees, he was seething. He kept his eyes on you as often as he was able to, just watching you work. The way you'd tuck your hair behind your ears, to the way your nose scrunched when you were focused.
His chest fluttered, his soul burned.
His flesh craved yours.
You were the sweetest, purest person he's ever encountered, and he knew this was the fact from the very moment he saw your face on that photo. He could tell, he knows people, their faces. You were so innocent, filled with hopes and positivity.
Everything he wasn't.
The desire to corrupt your purity was more intense than ever, and he'd decided; tonight he was gonna indulge in what he's been craving. And he always gets what he wants.
Suddenly life didn't feel so dull anymore. Honestly, ever since you joined, every day has been anything but dull to Yoongi. He almost loved the torture he put himself through by not just ravaging you on day one. Watching you, pining for you. It was new, this Alien feeling of wanting something so badly.
But patience was at an all time low, it was time. He needed you.
You answered your office phone,
''Mr. Min's office.''
A dark, familiar chuckle echoed on the line,
''Hello there, angel.''
A nickname your boss had given you the past few days... Angel. You were still not used to it, a blush on your cheeks at the petname.
''H-hello sir. What can I do for you?''
You were kind of confused why he decided to call your phone, he was literally in the room behind yours.
''There's so much you could do for me, angel. But let's start with you coming into my office, I need you.''
You furrowed your brows, ''You need me? I'm already working on the documents you just gave me–''
''No, no. This is much more important.''
''Oh?''
''I'm waiting.''
Click.
Yoongi stood up as soon as he heard your footsteps approaching, striding over to you as soon as the door opened, pulling you in to push your back against the door to force it closed behind you. He towered over you like a predator, instantly making you shrink down into a prey.
''S-sir, what are you doing...''
Yoongi's pupils were blown wide, breaths shallow but Heavy as he stares at you,
''I need you....Fuck, angel, only you can help me.''
You shrink down further, almost slowly sliding down the wall. Yoongi lets you, and as you sit down in a squat he's dropped down to his knees with you, his palms pressed against the door as he leans closer to your face,
''Do you think you could help me?''
You look down at the floor, heavily blushing,
''I-I'm not sure what you mean...''
He grabs your chin to direct your attention to his face, the expression on your face of fear mixed with confusion makes his cock twitch.
''Do you need me to spell it out for you? I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on your pretty face. I can't contain myself any longer, I can't... stay away from you.''
Your mouth falls open in realization, your cheeks reddening even further. He stares at your plump lips before leaning in to Place a soft, experimental kiss. He groans at the taste,
''You're so sweet. Too sweet. Too pure, aren't you?''
You exhale sharply, and he withdraws to look at your obvious expression.
''Are you... untouched, my angel?''
You hide your face in your hands, heart racing so fast it feels like it's gonna burst out of your chest. But you nod.
Yoongi feels a wave of this incredible urge once more, his cock hardening even further at the thought of ruining you completely.
''I'd be your first...''
He stands up, pulling you up with him as he leads you to his desk and lifts you up on it, spreading your legs for him as he steps inbetween to pull you in for Another kiss. He whispers into your lips between chaste kisses,
''I'd be your first... And your last... Your only one... You wanna be mine, angel? Hm?''
You feel the heat rushing through your body, the familiar burning sensation rushing down to your core growing more intense with every kiss.
''Tell me, angel.''
You nod, whispering a breahy 'yes'.
He groans into the kiss as his hands pull your skirt up over your ass pushing himself closer to grind his clothed erection against your clothed core. He nips at your lips when he hears your small whines, and pulls back with a frustrated noise rumbling from his throat,
''As much as I love teasing, I have basically been teasing myself for days waiting for this very moment.''
He drops down to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs further as you lay back on the desk. He swiftly pulls your panties down to expose your tight little slit for him, and he licks his lips in anticipation, no longer able to wait.
''Mine.'' He whispers, moreso to himself before giving your clit a kiss. You Breathe out quietly, and he dives in once more to let his tongue taste you.
''Mine.'' He repeats with a soft moan as he alternates between licks and kisses, finally drawing out more noises from you. It still wasn't enough, though. He wanted you to be a screaming mess for him, begging for more.
''Delicious and soppy, all for me.''
''yes, yes..'' You whimper out, not able to focus as you put your arm over your eyes to hide in shyness. Yoongi easily slides one finger into your cunt while still licking at your clit, moaning once more when he feels your pussy already tightening around his finger.
''You're gonna cum already, angel? Have you ever been fingered before?''
You shake your head, ''Not by...somebody else..''
''Oh, my dear...'' Yoongi chuckles before sliding a second finger in, curling them slightly to provide a pressure towards your sensitive spot as he finds it. You buck your hips against his fingers as your moans grow louder, and your cunt gets soppier and dripping down to his knuckles until there's a wet puddle growing on the table.
''My good girl loves this... Look how fucking dripping wet you are.'' He growls  out, speeding up his fingers whilst licking your clit faster. You whine out when you finally cum, back arching and pussy pulsating as it contracts in a vice grip around his fingers. He keeps fucking you with his fingers, digging deeper to draw out the most beautiful sound of your painful whines of overstimulation.
''T-too much....'' You cry out, but he continues.
''But you feel so fucking good, it sounds so sexy when you whine for me..''
''A-ah s-sensitive, Sir, sir.....!''
Yoongis lips curl up in a wicked smile, finally pulling his fingers out of you, smearing the wetness on his fingers over your clit as he slowly rubs your sensitive nub in circles, drawing more twitches from your body. He fucking loved it.
''Oh, you're so precious.''
He stands up again, admiring the view of your totally messy wetness.
''Now...'' He pauses while he unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down to his hips to pull his painfully hard erection out, ''I'm going to claim what's mine.''
You spread your legs further when he positions himself between your legs, lips agape and breathing heavily while looking up at him, ''Please...''
His lip twitches as if he wants to smile at your current state, so fucking beautiful. And all for him.
''You want my cock that badly?''
You nod, ''Yes, please...''
''Your first, last, and only...'' He hisses out when he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing himself in without letting you adjust properly. You cry out, a mix between pain and pleasure in your voice, the perfect sound in Yoongi's ears as he moans softly with you.
''Your cunt feels so fucking good already... And it's all mine to use.''
He places his hands on your waist to pull you down a Little until your ass hangs off of the desk, giving him the perfect angle to thrust himself into you roughly, drawing more moans from your throat.
''I'm gonna use your little pussy every single day from now on, this is the only thing I want you to do for me from now on. Nothing else. I'll get a new secretary. All you gotta do is be mine.''
You nod, chanting out 'yes' with every snap of his hips becoming faster and rougher. His eyes are blown wide with desire and admiration at the way your body sinfully bounces beneath his ministrations.
''I love you. I love you, I fucking love fucking you.....'' Yoongi growls out, making a point out of every word with a thrust, the wet soppy noises of his skin slapping against yours like music to his ears.
His cock hardened further inside of you, reaching spots neither your or his fingers ever could. You cry out , arching your back for him when you feel your second orgasm building inside of you like an incoming wave.
Yoongi slows down when he feels your pussy tightening, lifting you up to carry you. He sits down in his large, throne-like chair with you on top of him, you leaning over to Place your palms on his shoulders to keep yourself in Place. He roughly grabs your ass to Bounce you up and down on his cock, the raw strength in his hips and arms making it more than easy for you to ride him.
He nips and kisses at your breasts, leaving small love marks here and there and admiring the way your skin bruises from his lips. He grows greedier, fucking up into you with less rhythm as he feels his own high reaching him,
''I'm gonna fill your little pure pussy up with my cum, angel. Your first. Your only. You're mine, baby, you're mine. Tell me.''
He growls as he bites your neck, this time definitely rougher than before as he listens to the beautiful noises of your pain, pleasure and incoherent attempts of telling him that you're his. Your cunt squeezes him tightly when you cry out as you cum for the second time.
Good enough, this is exactly the state he wanted you in.
''Mine.'' He snarls out before holding your ass in a bruising grasp,  pushing you down on his cock whilst bucking his hips up into you, stilling when he cums in hot, pulsating ropes to fill your pussy up at last.
He hisses out curses and praises, staying like this for a moment as he litters kisses all over your neck and chest.
You're like a ragdoll on top of him, breathing heavily and whimpering when he rubs circles on your bruised ass.
Yoongi nudges your head to make you look up at him, your cheek pressed against his chest as your doe eyes stare back up at him.
You smile, your usual small, precious, innocent smile, and he can't help but give you a gummy smile back.
His hands move up your back to play with your hair, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead and inhale your scent before whispering,
''You belong to me now.''
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© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.
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dimensionwriter · 4 years ago
Text
Awkward Shade of Green
Part Four
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M! Orc x F! Reader
Word Count: 2021
Warning: None
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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Now I know you guys may be thinking right now. "Dimension, what the hell. You said A.S.G. was over with." Well, you got @featherynutcase or @featherednutcase to thank for this.
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So, please go and give them a follow and send them some love. They deserve it for dealing with how long I took on this, lol. Anyway, let's get started with the story.
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Gold and black was hanging everywhere around you. It was nothing but a constant reminder that it was that time of the school year. Prom.
The times were stressful for everyone in school. Between trying to get outfits, make plans, or trying to find a date, everyone was panicking slightly. Usually, this time wouldn’t be that stressful for you. It was the same as the previous years: you would go to Prom with Anx and you guys would have fun.
But this time was different. You were dating Zerx and you knew he was looking forward to this. He’s just that type of orc.
You were expecting him to do something extravagant, but something was off.
Zerx has been unusually quiet. He never glanced twice at all the posters in the hallway. Everytime you even slightly mention Prom, he would say he had to go do something. You were expecting him to be more… well excited for Prom.
“Have I done something wrong to Zerx?” you whispered to Anx. Zerx was walking ahead with a friend. He barely spoke a word past hi to you before being dragged away by his friend. You don’t want to be that significant other that’s clingy, but it feels like he’s being a lot more distant lately.
“What in the world made you think that? I’ve heard nothing but talks of you for the last week,” Anx grumbled. Her hand went to her forehead and started massaging her temple.
“He rarely talks to me and I thought he would be the type to discuss something about Prom.” Zerx’s head snapped back at you with wide eyes You got scared for a second thinking that he heard you, but he just gave you a tiny smile before turning back around to his friend.
“That idiot is probably just trying to play it cool,” her eyes glanced away from yours,” Are you worried that he won’t ask you out?” Anx’s arms went behind her head as she slowed down a little bit, so the two of you trailed behind a little.
Were you worried about it? Prom was the least on your mind right now. You were more worried about how Zerx was acting and why he was acting that way.
“Um, I guess. A little,” you lied. She turned your head towards you and she had a giant smirk on her face. Her arms dropped from her head and draped around you.
“Well, worry no more. How about we just work on you asking him out instead?” You open your mouth to voice your opinion of the matter, but she beat you to talking again. “Great, I’ll pick you Saturday so we can plan it.”
And that was the end of the conversation. Zerx’s friend had to leave, so Zerx was stuck with you guys again. You never got the chance to question Anx on her intention, but they have never been bad for you.
Saturday came a lot faster than you expect. Anx showed up a little earlier than the time she said she would, but you didn’t let that bother you. She jokingly scolded you for not being ready as she went through your closet for some clothes for you. What she chose was a lot fancier than what you would have chosen for a day of planning, but you didn’t really mind.
“Hey, do you mind if I drop you off and run to the store real quick?” Anx was driving down the road with a giant smile on her face. Since she has arrived at your place, she has had that smile on her face.
“I can come with you if you want,” you offered, but she was quick to shut you down with a shake of her head. She turned the corner to the road leading to her house.
“See, we are already here. You can go ahead and head in. I’ll be back in like… 5 minutes.” She unlocked the doors and gave you an expecting look. She is definitely acting weird now. Is something going on with Zerx and Anx... or is it you?
You slowly got out of the car as you stared at Anx. She gave you a slow nod of approval. You grab the door handle and continue the slow movements of shutting the door. Anx’s smile turned slightly wicked. What?
You wanted to grab the handle and open the door to question her, but she shot backwards down the driveway. The last thing you saw was her giving you a thumbs up before speeding down the road.
She doesn’t seem mad at you. Maybe the reason she left you alone at her house because she wanted you to talk with Zerx. Yeah, that definitely sounds like something Anx would do. To be honest she probably knew you wouldn’t have talked to Zerx without her help, so she gave you this little push. Well, you won’t let her efforts be in vain.
You grabbed the handle at the door to see the door was already unlocked. Anx must have already had this planned out.
The first thing you noticed when you walked through the door was the black and gold flower petals littering the floor.Almost in a movie like fashion, they made a path that led to the living room.
You entered the house and shut the door behind you. Why were there flower petals littering your floor? Anx may have planned some weird stuff, but this is going a little too far.
“Anx!” That was definitely Zerx’s voice coming from the living room. Heavy footsteps trekked around before rounding the corner. “You’re late. I told you to get here an hour-”
Speechless. The words have left your body and have ascended to a plain beyond your comprehension.
Your boyfriend is the hottest creature on the earth and you will fight someone on it. A grey sweater was pulled over his firm muscles and on top of that was a white button up. A dark navy blue jacket was hanging off his shoulder. His khaki pants were slightly tight on him because of how curvy he was.
His hair wasn’t done up. Black strands were pulled up with a messy bun with a pencil holding it together. The only thing that didn’t go great with his amazing outfit was the pure fear on his face at seeing you. You were hoping for a smile and maybe that cute little red blush. That face was not expected.
He marched forward until he stood right in front of you. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He repeatedly did this before just shutting his mouth completely.
His warm hands wrapped around your waist. Gently, his thumb started rubbing soothing circles into your skin. “Axel?” you asked.
His grip tightened as he hoisted you into the air. You let out a tiny squeal at your ascending height. He took giant steps towards the door before placing you back down outside.
You had a lovely view of the intricacies of the front door as it was slammed in your face. Zerx really just slammed a door in your face. Not to include him lifting you up like you were some sort of child.
You grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door back open. Zerx was still in the hallway with a giant frown on his face.
"Zerx, what the hell was that?" He jumped at your voice. You stomped over to him with a small scowl on your face. "You ignore me for a week and then turn around and kick me out of your house. What is going on?"
His face was completely red and he just froze up. His blue eyes stared blankly at you with his mouth pulled in a tight line.
You waited for a while for him to move or to say something. Instead, he just stood there with nothing moving. The only thing that told you he was alive was the way he was wildly breathing.
"Zerx, standing still won't make you disappear," you whined. You were at your end meets. You just wanted some communication between you two right now.
He let out a groan and grabbed the top of his hair. "I'm sorry. I'm panicking. You aren't supposed to be here," your face dropped down at that," No-no. Not like that. Today was supposed to be the test run for asking you to Prom."
He walked over to you with his head held low. The blush had lightened up on his face allowing for his sullen face to become apparent.
Test run? He was planning to do a test run today.
"Anx was supposed to show up today and see how everything looked and make sure I wasn't going overboard again," he mumbled, staring at the ground. Small black strands fell over his face.
Gently, you reached in front of you and grabbed his hand. Intwinding your finger with his and letting his giant hand engulf yours. The warmth from his hand flowed through your fingers and made his way to your heart. This is the closest you felt to him in a while.
"Baby," you cooed. You got on your tiptoes to get closer to his face. A tiny blush appeared on his face causing you to smile. "You don't have to doubt yourself. I would be happy if you did something big and extravagant or small and quiet. As long as it's coming from you, I will love it."
A tiny little hop. That's all it took to give Zerx a tiny peck on his lip. Zerx was quick to keep your lips connected on your descendant down.
You couldn't help laughing at his action. He was so adorable. Gosh, how could you not love him.
You leaned away from the kiss to contain your laugh. Zerx's mouth formed into a frown as he let out a tiny whimper.
"One more please," he whined leaning towards you. Your laughter turned into giggles as you tried to contain it enough to lean forward to reconnect your lips.
"I miss this," he mumbled lowly. Leaning back, you gave him a smile. "Sorry for ignoring you. I didn't want to overwhelm you with talk of Prom, so I thought if I never mention it, then I would appear cool."
You pressed tiny kisses from his cheeks to his forehead and ended it with a eskimo kiss. "Zerx, I love you for who you are. I will happily listen to you talk about anything you like. What makes you happy makes me happy."
He let out a sigh of relief and stood away from your embrace. His cheeks seem to be stuck being red instead of green. However, instead of being flustered, he was relieved.
"Well, since you're already here. Would you like to be asked to Prom?" He spread his arms out as a way to display the rose petals leading into the living room.
Quickly, you tread forwards. The gold and black petals compressed under your foot before bouncing back to its original shape.
Before you entered the living room, you gave one glance behind you towards Zerx. A giant dorky smile was spread across his face. His tusk protruded out showing you his excitement. Adorable.
You turned back forward and walked into the living room. The black and gold petals continued upwards before separating out and coming back to form the shape of a heart.
Hanging in front of the fireplace were 5 gold balloons that spelled out P-R-O-M-?. On the wall around it were tiny little paper hearts that looked hand cut. On the coffee table were some chocolate covered strawberries, handmade cupcakes with gold hearts on it, and a bowl of caramel.
A pair of large green arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm embrace. The light thumping of his heart vibrated through your body to your heart. Connection.
"Sweetheart, will you go to prom with me?" He whispered into your ear. You placed your hands on his arm and leaned farther back into him.
"I wouldn't want to go with anyone else."
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I've been trying to suppress the desire to come back to this series, but @featherynutcase brought it out of me. I don't know if they are still doing the Prom series, but they are fantastic writer that I love to read when I'm wanting something cute. So please, once again, go check them out.
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