#it suits dorian so much

[ittybittyremy]

This is Dorian as a dog. It's literally called a silken windhound, it's perfect.

[thelastdayalive]

and his beautiful face in his leather and lace 💗🖤

[sanguinaryrot]

writing a resume like special talents include identifying different covers of the picture of Dorian gray even if the title is covered or obscured

[eemoo1o-animoo]

OH, MY GOD!

Oh, my god…

How to find words for this? Firstly, your art is, as always, awesome. You really encapsulate their flirtation well, and the colours here are lovely… the roses, too! Claude has always had a thing for roses, especially in canon, and I love how you incorporated them here.

You’re right, it most certainly has come out soft. They are soft. At least in my rendition of them.

And your kind words… oh, how they floor me. Thank you, so dearly, you have no idea how much this means to me. I love this, thank you, thank you, thank you.

HIS MATE, LOVING.

Inspired by the fic of the same name by @eemoo1o-animoo . I reread this one all the time , I really love how they write Claude and Sebastian and how the two are actually in love.

Here we have a bird showing some affection to his spider. I love how soft this came out.

[timmydraker]

Tim who has never been good at understanding the words of Shakespeare and Dickens.

He can understand metaphors and knows about philosophy, but he’s always struggle to truely grasp the tragedy and helplessness so may of them hold. The idea of someone being doomed from the start, by the author and the narrative or maybe just the world they were set in, just doesn’t really make sense to him.

Part of him knows it’s because he was born with a vintage silver spoon placed delicately in his hands, but there’s more to it than that.

See, most of the bad things that have happened to Tim have either been consequences of his own action or the fact that his friends and colleagues all have the same dangerous job.

To him it just makes sense that bad things will happen and so he can just… prepare for it. He can do what he can to fix it or move onto something else and push away his own feelings because what else is he supposed to do?

So, no, things like Hamlet and Dorian don’t really click for him

At least… until he thinks about Jason.

Born in poverty with a world surrounding him that would not bother to care or offer help to him purely because of how he looks of his parents.

A mother who loves him endlessly, only to fall into the drugs she tried to protect him from.

Finding out that mother didn’t even give birth to him, but the father that never showed anything other than distain and cruelty was still his own.

Being given Robin, hated by the first one for a time, only to die in the suit by the hands of a mad man all because his real mother sold him out.

Waking up in a coffin, digging himself out and roaming around catatonic and the only thoughts he can actually process is that he must be a ghost.

Being taken by a league of killers, lied to and trick and tormented into thing a perfect weapon.

Realise his mentor, who he once thought the father he deserved to have, has failed him and let his killer free because of something as fickle as a moral compass.

Seeing that mentor seemingly replace him with a perfect rich kid who doesn’t swear or complain or sneak off without permission from what he can tell.

Having no real friends in that time.

Having no one to trust because everyone had an ulterior motive. Everyone uses him.

And through out it all, even with all the hate and the bitterness and injustice he had been faced with, his first course of action is to make the home he first had and the only one he will ever have… safer.

To protect the kids like him from becoming statistics and killers, from the pain he felt and the false promises of the Batman.

Jason keeps honesty and integrity, even when no one else offers it to him in return.

Tim can’t understand Macbeth or Antigone or Othello, can’t see why someone would write something so morbid just to try and entertain.

But he can understand, or at least try to understand, Jason Todd.

Because that is someone who had actually been hurt for no reason. Someone who had been tormented by the universe, by fates and coincidence, with no real lesson being taught other than the world hates him.

Sure Jason has Roy and Biz and Artemis and Kori, but what about a brother?

Dick tried, he still does, but he fails Jason over and over by trying to make him ‘better’.

Damian doesn’t really care too much, not out of malice but there’s just not much of a connection between them.

Cass tries, but Jason is always awkward around her and that’s not his fault, you can’t hide a thing from her.

Duke liked Jason a lot, but again, the newest Bat is trying hard to find his place in the world of vigilantes and can’t quite find it in himself to be too close to Jason’s violence.

But Tim…

He’s morals have always been held together by the simple fact of ‘it’s not really that approved of’ and not much else. He won’t kill, but unlike the others he is happy to leave a Rouge in a sinking ship and not feel a hint of guilt.

He adores Jason’s Robin, he knows to some extent how much he lost with that, and now he knows that Jason might not need much more than a few good things.

Small things, nothing that will trick him into thinking the world is apologising because it won’t, but enough to show him that Tim thinks he’s still worth something.

Tim won’t try convince him to become a better person or to stop killing, he might ask him to be a bit more rational and probably won’t be able to stop himself from giving tips on how to run his business, but he wouldn’t ask for his violent brother to change.

Because unlike everyone else, Tim knows that violence exist for good reason.

If it keeps his Jason alive, Tim will gladly hold onto his blood soaked hand.

[avengingannie]

Oh my god, I was rewatching the Dorym conversation from ep 95 for the six bajillionth time (as one does) and looked at chat, where some guy, in response to everyone's "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!", was like. "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't think Dorian swings that way," and it has made me completely insane.

Setting aside the fact that Dorym is practically a foregone conclusion at this point (it's not really "will they/won't they" so much as "WHEN will they?"), Dorian Storm did NOT pathetic twink his way into discounted health potions from Shaun Gilmore for some rando to accuse him of heterosexuality. Robbie Daymond did not enact a perfect queer metaphor by having Dorian sadly toss his beloved flamboyant outfit INTO A CLOSET just for some guy to publicly demonstrate the faultiness of his gaydar. Do this dude's platonic bros routinely drop 2500 gold on meaningful antique suits of armor for him and THAT'S why he's confused, or...????

[cheriladycl01]

Female Max Verstappen, Our Little Lioness - F1 Drivers x PlatonicF1Academy! Reader.

Plot: You are in F1 Academy after getting stuck in F3 with no progression so to get onto the scene of bigger teams you join the Academy with Rodin. Your dominance makes people call you the Mini Max Verstappen.

You'd grown up in the world of motorsports, your dad being a racing legend and your mum being a MotoGP engineer.

You grew up with heroes like Jenson Button and Lewis Hamilton at your doorstep. When you expressed and interest in karting at a young age your dad of course made prepartions to help you into your driving career.

And like most children of F1 drivers you had this natural talent in you. You were beating all the kids in your age range and were asked to move up. However, even with a dad known to the motorsport world people were apprehensive to take on girls in this sport.

You competed in many championships, in the UK, in the US, across Oceania and Asia. It was all a bit of a blur if you were being honest. You'd done as much as you could, in order to get yourself closer to F1. You'd driven Rally you'd done test drives in IndyCar, but getting a place in anything higher than Formula 3 seemed impossible.

So when Suzie Wolff offered you a place in the F1 Academy under an Disney Sponsor. You found it hilarious when a company you genuinely loved was wanting to support you. Your race suit was so cool having an overall Blue Colour same to the Disney + sign. And then there were characters splattered across it, ranging from Mickey to Flounder the Fish.

You loved the car as well having a similar style to your race suit being the same shade of blue. And having the Disney Logo plastered on the side.

F1 Academy was to get young women into the eye of the motorsport media, and that'd exactly what you needed. You were driving at the level of an F2 racer, and hated the fact that no-one would progress you.

So, F1 Academy should get you in the picture.

Your first race was in Jeddah, which you stormed through, winning both races there. Celebrations were great on the podium in Race 1 with, Doriane Pin and Abbi Pulling in P2 and P3 and then Race 2 with Abbi Pulling and Maya Weug on the podium with you.

You and Abbi were the same age, both 21 and you'd competed in some other championships with her before when you were younger. So sharing a podium with her twice on the first race was very special.

You were close with all the girls in the F1 Academy but none of them had seen you race and were shocked with the 13 second gap on both your races.

After that and some testing in Germany, it was time for Miami. The minute you touched down on American Soil from Lewis' jet you were so excited. You flew out the week early and Disney as your sponsors drove you up to Orlando with Abbi and Jessica as your teammates in Rodin.

You spent the week before the race going to each park and filming it for content for both Disney, as your sponsor, AMEX where you used an American Express Credit Card for each purchase you guys made as Jessica's sponsor and obviously stuff for Alpine as Abbi's.

You were out of qualifying when Lia Block spun out and went into your car from a bump on track that was later investigated and starting from P16, right at the back of the grid.

You ended up coming P3, still on the podium having made some insane over-takes and had incredible tire management throughout which made it so that you only needed one pit-stop unlike the others with two.

When it came to the second race however, you won as your second fastest lap had been allowed, so sharing a podium with Bianca and Amna. You were very close with the two of them, despite having different sponsors and being from different teams, you guys all gelled really well.

You'd left Miami in P1 of the Drivers Championship with 92 points.

Then you were invited to the Monaco Grand Prix, it was an exciting opportunity where you got to meet a lot of the drivers and constructures who knew who you were.

You also got to meet some of the current F2 drivers, people who hoped would maybe be driving with you next year. Ollie Bearman was the kindest, expressing how driving in F1 was and that it was such an exciting opportunity for him and there were talks of him going to Haas next year to prepare him for the Ferrari seat.

Then you joined the F1 group in Barcelona. It was a circuit you'd driven at before in real life. Not just online in a sim.

However, despite the June sunshine it rained and the hadn't called the flag early enough for visibility. You didn't anticipate how early Lena was going to break and you ended up skidding off into the gravel to avoid her and your race was over, no points in race one for you.

However, despite that it was still raining and you managed to come P1.

In Zandvoort you had won both your races with a 15 second time gap behind you in race one and a 8 second gap in race 2. It was a straining track however, one of your best and you'd proven that.

It was at that point that you had three teams come to you. All of them were F1 Academy teams and were proposing 2025 F2 racing for you. You'd done F3, and yes F1 Academy was a downgrade because the car was slower, but you saw no other way to get yourself on the scene.

And it was working splendidly.

Rodin, your current team, Prema and Campos had all asked if you had any 2025 plans. They were to attempt finding a way into Endurance, Rally or do F3 again, but ... F2.

You accepted the offer to take Zane Maloney's seat who was, by this point pretty set to win the championship. Good Car, Good Driver.

It was said to be annonced in Singapore that you would move into F2, and you were so excited. However, you were made to sign an NDA and couldn't tell anyone about it. You were bursting at the seems to tell someone, anyone. It was such exciting news.

Singapore came, and it was announced on media day that you'd signed a contract with Rodin Motorsport and would be promoted to F2 finally.

"Lewis, what do you think on Y/N Y/L/N moving to F2, after this F1 Academy Season?" an interviewer asks and he smiles.

"I think that F1 Academy is doings it's job really well. I've been watching Y/N for a while and it's definitely long overdue getting her into F2!" he smiles.

"And what do you think on her being referred to as the female Max Verstappen? A lioness?" he asks further making Lewis laugh.

"I'd agree with that statement, she's very strong, very dominant in F1 academy like she was in F3 where she won her championship. I think seeing her in F2 and getting her to that step closer to F1, it's important" he smiles.

"Thank you Lewis, oh here lets talk to Max! Max!" the interviewer shouts over your male counterpart.

"Hello!" he nods fixing his Red Bull hat.

"We wanted to talk to you about Y/N Y/L/N!" he asks and Max looks confused for a second.

"Oh, the Academy Driver?" he asks rubbing the towel across his face from the humidity of Singapore.

"Yes! Did you hear the news of her being promoted to F2!" he asks and Max nods.

"Yeah, I'm proud of her and a lot of people don't know it yet, but she's got lots of F1 teams fighting to get them onto their driver academy. I'd love to have her as in the Red Bull Academy, to mentor her ... as my mini me" he smiles and the interviewers nods before talking to him about the weekend ahead.

"Lando, Oscar. Hello, how are you?!"

"Hello!" Lando grins cheesily, and Oscar nods politely.

"We've just been going round asking people about the current news going around the paddock!" the interviewer asks to see if the McLaren boys are keeping up with the latest news in the paddock.

"About Y/N?" Oscar smiles happily. He and Y/N were pretty close. They'd met at a race and Y/N had ended up stealing Lily for most of the day as they watched the race and ate food. Her and Lily became really close friend after that so it wasn't uncommon for him to see you around.

"Yes! Thoughts?"

"Well, I think it just goes to show how well the F1 Academy is working to promote these young female drivers and it makes me proud of my sport that we are moving forward this way. Y/N is an insane driver and I could see her joining F1 in the next few years as and when a seat comes up. I think getting her into F2 now is really really important and I'm proud of her and everything she's doing!" Lando explains.

"I agree with Lando, it's really important her making these connections and I think she's so loved on the motorsport community that even if she doesn't make it to F1 there will be other top driving series that will be gunning for her. I hope she does get into F1 though!"

He then heads over to Carlos who smiles kindly.

"Hello Carlos!" the interviewer asked looking towards him.

"Hello, how are you!" he asks politely.

"We've been talking to your colleagues about Y/N Y/L/N!" he replied cheerily forcing the mic closer to the Spanish man.

"Ahhh she has done well, no?" he smiles thinking of the cheeky young girl that always brought him a small Tupperware box of Chili Peppers whenever they had race crossovers.

"Yes, we've had a lor of people talk about her driving ability but she's always quite cheeky with you, am i right in saying that?" he asks and Carlos laughs.

"Ahhh yes Y/N is a funny girl. She deserves everything that she has worked for thus far and more, and one day I hope i am still around in F1 to race alongside her" he nods before his PR team usher him off.

"DANIELLLLL" the interviewer shouts having to have the other Aussie in his segment before he was cut short.

"Heyyy what's up mate!" he says with his big smile, that makes anyone feel like melted honey.

"Just wanted to see if you were aware of the news of Y/N Y/L/N!" he asks and Daniel's smile widens even more.

"Oh she's a great driver right. She deserves that place in F2, and I think this is a really good step for her and other women in motorsport, I'm excited to see her progression from her onwards!" he smiles.

You watched each interview of the F1 drivers talking about you and it made tears come to your eyes, just the kind words spoken by your future colleagues and competition... it doesn't get better than that.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[sulumuns-dootah]

What WHB characters would wear in the human world: Gehenna

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

A/N: Very much inspired by the fact that demons in Obey Me have their own lil outfits while going to visit their favorite human ^^

   ༺☆༻

This short king is very much hot biker guy coded.

You know those tiktoks of guys who are showing off on the road and then do stupid shit at gas stations? That's this guy right here

He's not really a brand specific guy, but if you press him, he'll rave to you about MXDVS (honestly, same here ^^)

Darkwear/Techwear/Warcore

   ༺☆༻

Soft boi™

Light colors, nature, tea

Despite having his uniform altered to have black slutty shirt, he's very much cottagecore

He bakes, makes tea and cares for his fellow demons, need I say more?

Soft boy/Cottagecore

   ༺☆༻

V europian gay prince coded indeed

Dorian Gray kinnie

Open shirts all year around, only when it's cold/raining, he'll wear a coat over his shoulders

Vampirecore/Light academia

   ༺☆༻

Lose Paimon in the crowd any% speedrun IMPOSSIBLE challenge

The more colorful, the better

Gotta wear bright colors to match their bright personality

Indie/Kidcore/Harajuku

also pics credit to @/butterfliesworkforsatan on tiktok ^^

   ༺☆༻

Another dramatic ass fashionista

This time make it goth

You can't see it, but he's got eyliner on

What you see, however, is Jiyu wearing the same eyeliner

Vampirecore/Romantic Goth

   ༺☆༻

Ooh he seducin' with more than his words allright

'Hey, my eyes are up here'

Sadly his snake has to be replaced by snake skin boots, but don'T worry, he snake is unharmed and chilling at home in Hell

Big Daddy vibes

Suits and trutlenecks

   ༺☆༻

Anything sporty, really

Likes wearing gray sweatpants bc he gets a lot of compliments

Thinks that grey is just his color

Don't ever tell him the real reason for the sake of u all

Also, maaaaaybee you could accdientally shrink his clothes in the wash so it's tighter on him?

   ༺☆༻

Oh boy, good luck explaining to Juno, that he can't exactly be mostly naked outside or he'll draw too much unwanted attention

'But I've got this insanely hot body! Why should I hide it? Other's should be lucky to see me like that! I'm literally the hottest red lump in Hell!'

Cue in Juno trying to find things that are technically clothes that still show off his muscles

Damiano David ultimatelly becomes his fashion icon

Also Hatari

When this man discovers fishnets? Ooh boy

Good luck talking him out of just wearing full fishnet bodysuit

(and yes, it's hard to find pics that wouldn't get my post flagged by tumblr)

[yesterdayiwrote]

btw Whatsapp is holding a 'women in motorsports' dinner and Carmen is the host, which is a choice, and a effing weird one at that. there's so many women in motorsports out there to host something like that, whatsapp is Doriane's sponsor after all.

(I got two asks on this so not sure if you accidentally sent it twice anon, or if you have a thought twin somewhere!)

Yeahhhh, I've seen that and I feel exactly the same as you do on the matter, and what's annoying is I feel like we've had this exact argument about what constitutes a 'woman in motorsport' before, back when Puma put Carlos' ex gf in an ad campaign with the tag line, and Kelly was in Vogue with the same title, and yet STILL brands are doing this lazy feminism and tone deafness.

It's unfortunate that this criticism comes sharp on the heels of the book nonsense, because it gives the opportunity for it to get dismissed as 'hate' when really it's not about which wag is doing it this time, it's about the fact that brands want to appear like they're uplifting women, whilst just further imposing the limitations and boundaries they claim to be fighting against.

I get why she would accept. She's not ultimately the problem in this instance (although I have some questions about how many Merc sponsors she's suddenly partnering with, in a way that we don't see from other wags. It's giving heavy nepo and idk that it's a great look, or really aligning with her financial independence schtick she's been pushing - come on girl have some awareness)

As you say there are COUNTLESS women in motorsport who would have been a great pick to put their name to this. Women who have genuinely fought through and overcome the patriarchal hurdles that motorsport poses in order to take their place on the grid or in the paddock. Wags have not done that. Their paddock pass is afforded them purely on the basis of who they know and they do not represent women who have faced an uphill battle to be seen and heard in a male dominated industry.

And this is where the Wag culture obsession really grinds my gears, because brands do know this and are more than likely picking wags to front their events like this a) for their image, because whilst the purpose is women, they still want to use women deemed conventionally attractive to entice men to take an interest - just check out the mean comments on Doriane's appearance under her Kimmel interview. And b) for their follower counts - which don't get me started on how ig follower volume is not a meritocracy - but rather than a huge brand like WhatsApp picking someone like Doriane and using their platform to push her story and bring it to more people, they'd rather pick Carmen and have her promote their event to her cohort of followers and all the young girls who follow her who'll now mistakenly think "Oh WhatsApp cares about women!"

It's more bullshit faux feminism (much like female invest funnily enough) Like I said, she's not the architect of it, but she is complicit in it and it's disappointing all around. Doriane, Bernie Collins, Ruth Buscombe, the list of people better suited for this is endless. I think the real test is going to be (much like these Charlotte tilbury dinners) how many ACTUAL women in motorsport will be invited, or will it be another influencer event that's all for show?

[danwhobrowses]

Spoilers for Critical Role Campaign 3 Episode 104 Below

So with Orym's Seedling getting blessed by the Wildmother to now be Vestige-tier as a 'Relic of the Red Solstice' I thought I'd indulge myself and throw in which of the gods I think/want to bless the rest of the Hells with in order to give them Relics and why.

Imogen - The Stormlord Why - Easiest of the bunch after Orym, she is the storm after all and she likes her lightning magic, flying and projectiles. The Knowing Mistress may be a secondary option but I think the Stormlord has this one on lock, likely enhancing her damage output or overall spellcasting.

Laudna - The Matron of Ravens Why - Given Laudna's connection and affinity for the dark and spooky it seems the best fit. You could go and juxtapose with the Dawnfather given the Sun Tree or have the Arch Heart help her believe in her own magic but I think the Matron would be the best fit. Laudna's enhancement may fall more into damage avoidance than increased damage through the Matron, or something to hinder enemy saves.

Chetney - The All Hammer Why - The god of crafting hasn't gotten any real chances to shine in the past 3 campaigns, but he is the best fit for the toymaker. The Moonweaver may be an option given lycanthropy, and I wouldn't put it past Travis wanting to get a vestige from a Betrayer God but adding more options for Travis to be creative is always a solid recipe. For that maybe a Relic that changes shape or can make some summonings would work for Chet.

Fearne - The Moonweaver Why - While the Arch Heart - forefather of fey, Dawnfather - given the fire powers, or a double dip from the Wildmother are options, I think the Moonweaver best suits Fearne given how they're both known for their mischief and flirtiness. Also the Unseelie Court hate her so it'd be a nice dig at Zathuda. She also has a moon sickle, which may be the thing that gets enhanced if not her staff. Since the Titan shard already increases her firepower the Moonweaver could perhaps help with damage avoidance in an illusionary way, or improve her spellcasting and concentration saves.

Braius - The Lord of Lies Why - Braius is a difficult one actually. The As hole hasn't actually made contact with him so why give a vestige-like power? Problem is that there's not many other options given how he doesn't like the Primes. The Ruiner or Dread Emperor might be an option just for damage output. We've not seen too much of Braius but from what we've seen of him in combat he holds himself pretty well, so you'd probably expect something to enhance that maybe in a more hellish way. We'd also have to figure out how he'll contact a Betrayer in Vassalheim...

Dorian - The Changebringer Why - Dorian is the most difficult imo because although he's naturally good and considerate there isn't really a god he's been seen to lean on. I doubt he'd accept favour from the Matron or Wildmother after the Opal incident, but the god all about finding your own path may suit Dorian's mental state right now. The Lawbearer (to parallel with Orym getting the Wildmother's blessing), Arch Heart and Knowing Mistress are options too, but the latter already favoured a bard once before so you probably don't want to do repetition there. All manner of things can be enhanced for Dorian equipment-wise, it'll likely be an instrument though, which means their relic will likely enhance support and damage suppression.

Ashton - The Everlight Why - While I know the Coin of the Changebringer is right there, the Changebringer was FCG's god, not Ashton's - they have to walk their own path, providing that they are willing to accept a god's blessing. While the Ruiner may offer something to lure Ashton into given the promise of violence, or the Arch Heart proposing an enhancement of unique magic, I am sticking with my earlier mentioning that the Everlight is perhaps the god who can benefit Ashton the most as a person. It seems unorthodox but Ashton at their core wants to protect the people they care about; healing, temperance and redemption are all key to that, and like Fearne since the Titan powers increases their damage output already, perhaps Ashton's relic would be something to help them take more damage so others don't have to.

[howl-arnon]

Woah it looks like a cool book, wonder where can I get that? .. but fr it looks nicer than I thought.

Go read it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54261532/chapters/137414716#workskin ( ongoin )

__________

A little gift if you may, I like to draw for my favorite writers. Talking bout writing stuff I want to talk about the story and setting itself to anyone that care enough to read lmao.

The sickness that resides is one of the fanfic I think, that have the best setting for starters in the mandela catalogue AU. It start of with " you " interviewing Gabriel about his little cult in the Mandela county. I find it intriguing and really invested to read, like when I saw the first coversation they have I'm drawn to it immedietly. It reaallly hook me up. I find myself having fun thinking about the scenarios.. you might think I'm exaggerating-I mean to each their own, but I really did enjoy how dorian wrote the story in this one. Maybe I'm a bit bias because-well- I LIKE IT.

Another thing I like is... Gabriel in suits I- I WANT TO DRAW MORE GABE IN SUITS MAN. This story have a nice start to everything so go check it out.

I'd say this story is on the same fun level as You called me angel for the first time (My heart leapt from me) but just for the setting I find this one more interesting- BUT it doesn't mean that the other fic aint good I have so much more to say for that- I'm keeping it for next time.

I can't say for everyone that you'll like it, so if you want to know what's it like better check out for urself

Extra Note: Dorian, this is the section I'm directly talking to you. If you want this art with ultra 4K HD QUALITY you can contact me incase tumblr being a meanie and just.. F the quality lmao. Also don't take some stuff I say seriously- The fic itself is good GENUIENLY love it, keep up the good stuff.

@dorian-is-dead

[desmond69miles]

The Catch

This is sort of a prologue to 'An Artists Eye'. It uses the same way of meeting/Élise and Bellec are still alive, but reading the previous fic is not necessary! This is supposed to be after the game (but obviously a different ending), it more so came out as a completly different timeline- what the hell it's fiction anyway

Arno offers to show you around the hidden assassin base below Cafe Theatre. He also offers a risky sexual time in a small, curtain-drawn study in the archives.

Warnings/Tags: Google translated French, GN reader (no descriptions listed), oral sex/blowjob, risky sex, getting caught, probably ooc Axeman but IDK anything about him (he 'flirts' with you).

Word Count: 3.4k (rounded up)

AO3 LINK: Here

Enjoy.

---

Arno Dorian was a man of many suits. He drank like a monster, risked his life daily in more ways than one, and fought like a madman. But, he was an attentive lover. Caring and somewhat good-natured when it came to you.

You were wary of Arno's regular disappearances and injuries once you started dating him, perhaps a little more worried than a normal partner would be. You weren't sure if his gambling was getting him into fistfights or if he got into one too many scraps with local drunks, but you could never recall a time when he didn't come back to you unharmed. 

At first, you’d thought him a thief or maybe a smuggler. To your surprise, he was neither (or both) but an assassin. You laughed at him then, giving him a look of disbelief, but when he stayed stone-faced, your look of humor soon turned into panic. 

“Arno,” you had said, “you cannot be serious. An assassin?” He gave you a slight smirk that you can still picture perfectly today and took your hands in his. “Yes, an assassin. I’ve been one since I was twenty-two.” He said it so plainly that there was no other truth besides that- a killer. You weren’t scared, though, and perhaps you should have been. You trusted him not to get himself captured or, worse, killed. 

Despite your trust, he did come home wounded quite often. The unexplained injuries suddenly made a lot more sense, especially the stab and slash marks from a sword--and, god forbid, a bullet hole once in a blue moon. While you weren’t thrilled about becoming skilled at suturing your lover, you got exceptionally good at it. In return, Arno affectionately called you ‘mon infirmière.’

My nurse.

“Arno,” you sighed nervously while threading a needle. “You know that you’re supposed to stick them with your sword, not be stuck by their sword, right?” He laughed and winced after, fists clenching at the two-centimeter-deep slash wound on his right side. “Oui, mon amour, I’m well aware. Sometimes, it’s a bit difficult while fighting three people at the same time.” You side-eye him then, tutting. “I have you, though, mon infirmière. You are much more gentler than Elise and not as scrutinizing.” 

You also missed him a lot, even when he was right beside you. The constant fear that he might one day leave and never come back haunted you.  Every time he returned in the dead of the night, you couldn't help but feel a surge of relief. You would thank him, your voice barely audible as he quietly removed his boots, careful not to disturb your sleep. 

It’s been six months since you’ve started dating Arno. Your worry decreased dramatically during that time. Partially because the longest missions Arno’s been on are only a few days to a week at most, partially because he’d always spend a day or two before that mission with you doing things he’d know would quell your stress. This time, though, he’d be traveling to Toulouse for three weeks: six hundred and seventy-eight kilometers, a day and a half carriage ride away.

Arno was going to leave in two days, and he had been spending time with you in between the preparations. You sat in a chair by the fire, scribbling around your sketchbook. Arno was gone—probably below Cafe Theatre or in the study—the only thing keeping you company was the gentle crackling of the flames and the songbirds chirping outside in the terrace garden. Summer was coming to its final stretch and starting to transition into fall. Leaves were turning into gorgeous shades of red and orange, the temperature just warm enough to leave without a coat, and the apple trees were blooming to make the perfect apple cider. 

A beautiful time of growth and change, and you’d be experiencing it with mostly Elise and your best friend (not that you had anything against Elise or your best friend; you did love them, but something about fall was so romantic). 

“Mon amour,” a disembodied voice said, “what are you drawing?” His hands rested on your shoulders, squeezing lovingly before he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.  “Eurasian jays,” you replied, moving your gaze from the crisp paper to your lover. He stole a chaste kiss and looked at your page of elegantly drawn birds. Arno recognized them as the bird that stole a piece of your bread a few months back, a smile drawing to his face. 

Arno sighed through his nose. “How are you?” he asked, his voice ever more soothing at this peaceful moment. “Alright. How is your work going? Are you still leaving in two days?” His slight noise had confirmed, although he did not speak, and he moved one of his hands down, carefully taking your sketchpad away and setting it down on the table next to the chair. 

“I have something that might put your mind at ease during my mission,” Arno said softly. “The Council has permitted you to visit our headquarters. You can meet my mentor and our fellow assassins. While you can't go there alone, I thought it might comfort you to see where I spend my time.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, quickly taking his hand as he helped you stand.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I weren’t certain,” he replied, reassuringly smiling. “There aren’t many people there right now, maybe my mentor or a few friends. We could go now if you’d like?” You chewed your lip briefly, pretending to ponder before nodding. “Alright, let’s go.”

Arno led you down the familiar hallways of Cafe Theatre, but this time, he stopped at a spot you had never taken much notice of before. With an odd-looking key that you’ve never seen before slotted into the lock, the dark wooden door swung open with a quiet groan. Inside was a dimly lit staircase that descended into a stone hallway with a red rug lining the middle.  “This way,” he said, taking your hand as he guided you into the dimly lit corridor.

The passage trailed downward, the air growing cooler and damper as you descended. The walls were lined with old, worn stone, and the faint scent of old books and earth made up the air. Arno walked with the confidence of a man who’d traversed these halls too many times to count, his gloved fingertips brushing against the bricks while his arm that didn’t wield the blade held your hand. 

Eventually, you arrived at the bottom of the staircase. The hallway was much grander than you had seen from the top of the stairs--curtains framing big paintings of what you assumed were important figures in the assassin world, numerous pedestals holding silver or iron statues, and a large red tapestry with a white emblem on it hanging from the tall ceilings, the Creed’s sigil. The room was illuminated by torches mounted on the walls, casting a warm, flickering glow that danced over Arno’s face and shadowed a beautiful gleam on him. 

Once the hallway ended, there was a room containing a long table surrounded by haphazardly pushed-in chairs. On all four sides of the room was another hallway, but the one in front of you led into a vast room resembling a courtroom. It was no less magnificent than the hallways—possibly a little more—such as the oak table covered in various maps and documents and the walls lined with weapons and other neatly organized tools of the trade. 

Arno turns to you with a gentle smile, speaking in a tone that feels a little too loud for the setting, “This is where I spend much of my time when I’m not with you. It’s not much, but it’s home.” 

You took in your surroundings with a deep breath. There was a strange comfort, as well as uncertainty and awe, seeing where Arno lived most of his life. You had talked about seeing the creed’s hideout when you first found out about his position, and honestly, what you saw now was not what you envisioned in your mind. When you think of Assassin, you think of torturing and other dark things. While you were sure it did happen, there was no hint of it here. 

True to his word, there weren’t many people in the hideout. In fact, there wasn’t a soul around. “Is it normal for there not to be people?” You ask, looking at Arno as he wraps an arm around your waist. “No. Usually, there are many people, but most of us are out on missions, and the council is out on a meeting with-” “Arno!” 

“Axeman, mon ami!” 

You turned your head to the right to see a man walking towards you, an axe strapped on his back. You rolled your eyes playfully at the ‘clever’ name of his friend. Axeman slapped his hand on Arno’s shoulder in a hello, his brown eyes meeting yours. “And half of us thought you made them up,” he jests, sticking his hand out for you to take and gently kissing the back of your hand. “How could I make someone so great up?” Arno smiles, and his arm briefly squeezes you closer. 

Axeman chuckles while running a hand through his pushed-back brown hair. “As much as I’d like to stay and chat with your lovely partner, I do have a mission to get to.” He gives you a small smile and Arno a playful smack again, turning to walk the way you came in. “Bellec’s around, so be on your best behavior.” 

Once his buddy left, your lover turned to you, giving you a frisky smirk. “Let me give you a tour,” Arno grabbed your hand again with a slight squeeze and led you deeper into the underground hideout, his hand warm even through the worn leather glove. “This way,” Arno said, pulling you to the left hallway. This passage was thinner than the others and dimly lit by candelabras placed every five feet, occasional carvings etched into the stone walls between large pillars. Large wooden doors started after the fourth pillar, and Arno took you to the second one on the right side, swinging open the heavy door and nodding you inside. 

“This is the main training room.” He gestured with a flourish, letting you step inside and look around. The space was huge, with mats covering the floor. Wooden dummies and targets lined two of the four walls, some riddled with throwing knives and arrows, some looking so broken it was just remembrance of rough training. Three assassins were sparring, one sitting down to the side drinking water and two practicing their knife skills. 

“Care for a quick lesson?” He teased, knowing full well that you weren’t one for battling people, instead gnats or annoying flies that buzzed around. “Maybe later,” you replied with a grin, “What’s next?” 

He followed you out and closed the door behind him, leading you across the hall into the next door. “Here is the armory.” The room opened to reveal wooden walls lined with weapons of every kind: swords, daggers, pistols, rifles, smoke bombs, bomb bombs, and, of course, things to maintain the hidden blade. Each was meticulously maintained and ready for action. “Most of us have our preferred weapons, so this is mainly for recruits or people who have lost a weapon. Pick any weapon, and it’ll have a story,” Arno said, following you inside.

His fingers brushed an ornate-looking sword, the beautiful engraving on the blade glinting in the candlelight. You reached out, touching a dagger with an intricate hilt next to the sword Arno was looking at. “What about this one?”

“Ah, that belonged to Thomas de Carneillon, an assassin in the 13th and 14th century,” Arno explained, “he tried to steal a sword of Eden, the same one that killed Germaine.” He gives you an inquisitive look and lets you wander around the round room, watching as you observe the weapons with a curiosity that makes his stomach twinge in an absurd kind of attractiveness. 

Once you circle the room and return to Arno, he offers his hand again and leads you out of the room and deeper into the hallway. “You’ll love this,” he assures, motioning towards the end of the hallway where a huge arch opened up to a library. “This is the south archive,” he said, smiling at your giddy smile. 

It smelled like old parchment, ink, and worn leather-bound books, a scent that engrained itself in your brain. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes, scrolls, and books lined the walls, going up to the ceiling where a giant metal chandelier hung. Maroon velvet curtains lined the arch, and when you slipped into the library, you didn’t notice Arno tugging the golden rope that held them back. The drapes made a soft noise as they closed, dimming the room just the slightest bit, and Arno watched as your fingers trailed over the spines of the books. 

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured. “You said that this is the South archive?” Arno hummed a ‘yes,’ coming up behind you as you pulled one of the smaller books off the shelf. He wrapped his arms around your hips and kissed your temple, scanning the book you opened. “This library isn’t the biggest one here, but this one is always empty, perfect for us.” 

Arno watched the trail of your fingertips against the worn paper, gentle like your fingers when you trail them over Arno’s back. His eyes followed your hand as you turned the page, forefinger and thumb pinching the page like when you pinch your nipple while he’s fingering you. He should not be turned on right now. 

“Arno,” you said, head turning to look at your lover behind you. His eyes caught yours, your pretty eyes that always glistened right before you orgasmed, and right then, he made up his mind. Before you could speak again, Arno had pressed his lips against your soft ones, maybe just a little too roughly, the leather of the book in your hands creaking with how hard you gripped it. 

His hand grabbed the book from your hands and placed it back on the shelf with a little bit of struggle. Nipping your bottom lip, Arno’s hands gripped your hips and slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He tasted like wine and something sweet--something him-- and god, you’d be lying if it wasn’t intoxicating for the both of you. When you did pull away, a slim bridge of saliva connected your lips and snapped when he licked his. You were suddenly very aware of the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into--his erection pressed into your behind and his needy hands wandering your body.

“We’re in the base,” you un-needily whispered, sucking in a small breath as his lips moved to your jaw and pressed a kiss just behind your jawbone. “Oui, but we are alone. No one is near us, and we’ll be quiet.” You shakily breathed as he continued to kiss along the side of your neck and fuck; if the thought of risk didn’t set a throbbing between your legs, you weren’t sure what did. 

With an enthusiastic nod, Arno grabbed your hand and pulled you to one of the curtain-drawn study rooms off to the side. As he did with the entrance to the archive, Arno pulled the rope holding the drapes back off and dropped it to the floor. The ambient candlelight under the curtains, the only light in the ‘private’ study room, set a surprisingly intimate aura as Arno’s hand cups the side of your face and kisses you again. This one was headier, making your mind swim as his other hand grabbed your butt, pushing your hips into his. 

Your hands that had been resting on his shoulders slipped down his chest and to his belt, one palming his obvious arousal and the other fiddling with the belt buckle. He groaned into your mouth, hips chasing your hand as you moved it up to help undo the buckle. His hands joined yours in a messy struggle, and once his belt was undone, you immediately sank to your knees. 

Arno swore--a short, breathy ‘merde’ that sent every single ounce of blood that was in your brain rushing south, and with that blood came a fleeting thought of how easy it was to get you to suck him off in a place with people. It wasn’t the first time that you had sexual interactions in a public place--far from it--but it was the first time that you’d be on the giving end. 

His hand came to rest on the back of your head as your fingers unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down with his undergarments just to free his cock. Even in the darkness, you could tell that he was fully hard, your hand that didn’t rest on his hip coming to stroke him teasingly slow. Your thumb swiped over his tip that dribbled precum, and his hips twitched with a soft groan that was nothing short of heavenly. 

You softly pressed your lips against his head and trailed them down his shaft, letting your spit dribble against his heated skin and slicking him up with your hand. His quiet groans and the schlick of your hand made up the space--an erotic opera--and finally, your lips slipped around his tip and gently sucked. “Dieu, fuck, don’t stop,” Arno groaned, hips rocking in time with the drawls and push of your head. After enough saliva drips from your mouth and down his cock you took him deeper in just so the head of his cock was resting against the back of your tongue. 

Arno moved both of his hands to the side of your head and gently held you in place, his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones, and he began to thrust into your mouth. At first, his thrusts were shallow, but as your hands came to his thighs once again, Arno gave a chuckle and picked up his pace. You slid your tongue against the underside of him, and he let out a groan, one that was a little too loud. “Good job, mon amour, good job…” 

No matter how many times you took him in any way, there was never a time where he failed to make you so painfully aroused. 

“Suck,” Arno said, stopping his movements rather deep inside the constrictive heat of your throat and petting your head. And just like he said, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. His head thudded against the wall he had his back rested on, and, oh, that groan. Primal and needy and wanting in every sinful way known to man. “S'il vous plaît, continuez, putain, juste comme ça. Tu me prends si bien- si bien, fuck!”

His fingers threaded through your hair and gripped the strands, holding them tight as he rocked against your mouth. Arno was so, so close, you just needed to suck a little harder and-

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, ARNO?!” 

You immediately pull off of Arno, who seems equally surprised but, strangely enough, not embarrassed. You wiped the back of your mouth with your hand and turned around, face mortified at the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. He shook his head and turned around, letting the curtain fall behind him, and you could still tell he was outside due to the shadow from under the drapes. Arno haphazardly tucked himself back into his pants and offered you a hand up off the ground. When he pulled you up, you gave him a look, one that said Arno, are you fucking kidding me? but all he did was chuckle and step out of the study. 

“Désolé, Bellec.” Your lover said, utterly unphased by the fact you had just been caught in a very precarious and intimate moment, and you heard a sigh from not Arno. “You never fail to amaze me, pisspot,” The man- Bellec- laughed. 

You stood in the study for a good fifteen minutes with your face aflame, too embarrassed to even walk out of the hideout. 

Thankfully the second meeting with Bellec was not when you were sucking Arno off and instead over wine (that doesn’t mean you weren’t a hot-faced mess with an embarrassed smile on your face throughout the whole thing, though). 

[multi-fandom-imagine]

[Key]

-💕means it has sexual content/Implied sexual content..

-💔means it is an angst fic

-😍means it is a family fic

-💘means it is an angst fic with a happy ending.

-🚫means it contains a Trigger Warning.

-➤

─ ★

─ ★Dorian "Zib" Zibowski

Zib in a Rut blurbs-💕

Men who moan

"i can hold the whole world in my hands"

─ ★Sedegewick "Wick" Sable

Wick in a rut blurb-💕

Men who whimper

"i can hold the whole world in my hands"

─ ★Calvin "Freckle" Allen McMurray

Freckle in a rut blurbs-💕

Freckle with a clingy s/o

─ ★Rocky Rickaby

Rocky in a rut blurbs-💕

want a romantic Rocky x male!reader

"i can hold the whole world in my hands"

Men who moan.

Rocky as a girl dad

Rocky with a shy!fem reader.

Rocky noticing his S/O is in heat

Rocky with a clingy s/o

Comforting an insecure reader

─ ★Viktor Vasko

Viktor in a Rut blurbs-💕

"i can hold the whole world in my hands"

Viktor in a relationship with a crybaby!Reader.

Viktor sharing the reader with Mordecai

Viktor having a child that's a runt

Viktor with twin girls

do Viktor x reader, like where his wife is pregnant

Viktor being late to his daughters birth

Teasing Viktor until he snaps💕

─ ★Mordecai Heller

Mordecai in a rut blurbs-💕

"i can hold the whole world in my hands"

Mordecai sharing the reader with Viktor

Mordecai having a child that's a runt.

Mordecai Heller x pregnant!Reader

Mordecai having a child who is just chaos incarnate like Rocky.

Second time's the charm

Mordecai with a pregnant reader

Comforting an insecure reader

─ ★Nicodeme Savoy

Nico rut hc's

─ ★Images I happen to like!

-➤- 1:

-➤- 2: Humanized Mordecai and Viktor

-➤- 3: Baby rocky and Freckle, baby mordecai

-➤- 4:Valentines cards

-➤- 5: Valentines cards { Pt2}

-➤- 6: Humanized Zib / Zib { i love him so much }

-➤-7:Viktor in a suit 🥰

-➤-8: this and this...no words

[xo-edwinspaynes]

what do you think the tlh characters would dress up as for halloween

I think that Matthew goes one of two ways. There's the "dress up as Dorian Gray every year" route, which amuses me. But I think it's unlikely considering that he'd want to show off all kinds of avant-garde outfits like the Puck costume that we see in Chain of Thorns. (One of my favourite things in the book, btw - it was really fitting for him. Good job to Cassie on that one.) I like to think that he chooses characters from all sorts of theatrical performances, like Puck. Maybe a character like Mercutio or Antonio would be fun! I also think that Volpone from Marlowe's play would be an endlessly excellent choice for him, so I am going to go with that out of personal desire.

Speaking of self-indulgence, Thomas and Alastair as Charles and Edwin. PLEASE. I want to see Thomas with a massive cricket bat and Alastair in the little knickerbockers. But barring that, especially because we're in the Edwardian era and DBDA unfortunately did not exist, I'd like to see them go as Frankenstein and his monster. I think Thomas would find it fun rather than insulting if it was Alastair doing it, and Alastair would look so good in a lab coat that Thomas couldn't complain. Plus, he'd get to paint his face green and sneak up on James and Matthew, which would be an eternal plus.

James and Cordelia are connoisseurs of couples' costumes and you'll NEVER convince me otherwise. Instead of going as characters, though, I like to imagine them going as utterly ridiculous things. Cordelia dresses up as Cortana one year and James covers himself in red paint and she charges him in the (soft) costume. Once, they dress up as two halves of a massive dragon, and Will and Tessa laugh at James realizing his Jonathan-Shadowhunter-Slaying-the-Dragon dreams. Maybe that one's this year. Yup, it's that one.

Ari and Anna don't get dressed up in costume, but they both dress to rise to the occasion. It's the chance for them to wear as ostentatious of clothes as possible and completely dress to the nines. Also, Anna canonically matches bits of her clothes to Ari's, so... that. They wear these grand costumes at a themed party that they host annually for all of their friends and acquaintances, and once their child is old enough to join in, they want nothing more than to dress their best, too.

I don't think Grace would very much like Halloween - I think it would bring back a lot of bad memories for her since she's essentially a gothic heroine. I don't think she'd dress up for a good long while. But I think that as she gets older and many years go by, she eventually finds herself leaning into the gothic heroine thing. She's an Estella. It's fun to dress like one eventually. But not yet.

If Kit were alive, she'd be fine with dressing up because New Memories. They would couple-cosplay as the Curies. Also as different chemicals that combine to create a reaction. They have little molecule suits and everything.

[abyssal-ilk]

Hiii, hope you're doing well. How do you think Vivienne would be as an aunt to the child/children of an Inquisitor who's her best friend? I just like the idea of her being that rich aunt that pops up randomly bearing gifts 😂

to be honest, i'm kind of mixed on this idea! im always very iffy on vivienne being any sort of aunt/big sister/motherly figure (the da fandom has not spared vivienne from the mammy stereotype whatsoever, and i think i've seen too much of it not to be biased), but i could potentially see vivienne filling in some sort of mentor role if the inquisitor has any children with magic. if for no other reason than the other options are solas and dorian, and vivienne would sooner smack both of them on the back of the head than let them mentor a child- especially a child of the inquisitor, who already has countless eyes on them. an apostate with no past or a tevinter mage? absolutely not. besides, vivienne already has experience with the circle apprentices; she probably would think she's best suited.

or, more generally, i could see vivienne stepping up for any child of the inquisitor purely to get them accustomed to being in the spotlight. vivienne has been part of the game since she was young; who better to teach someone how to survive orlesian politics than her? i can see vivienne giving gifts of fine clothes, jewelry, and even expensive schooling just to ensure they're as equipped as they can be to be in the public eye. enchanted jewelry, trinkets, or other items are also a big possibility. vivienne isn't going to let the inquisitor walk around not knowing how to maneuver in their new-found spotlight, nor will she let their children.

so maybe not a rich aunt dumping expensive gifts on the inquisitor's kid(s), but more a distant but proud mentor ensuring that they have every opportunity and resource that they need to thrive. and if that means getting those kids in with her own seamstress and personally ensuring that they have the best offered education and materials? then she's gonna do it!

[hellsburners]

orange juice

summary: you're a new library assistant in an elementary school and you cant help but fall for the cute teacher visiting your desk. pairing: teacher!peter parker x librarian!male reader word count: 2.2k (im being ballsy with these fic lengths its actually fun) warnings: none really more of fluff a/n: was in a fluff writing mood :> (might get a part 2 if it gets received well)

masterlist | more peter parker

You did everything by the book, literally. There was a handbook resting on the front desk of the library with everything you needed to do as an assistant. You took the books back to the shelves and made sure it was in the right order. You tidied up the library computers making sure every unit was logged off and the chairs weren’t a mess. You also took note of orders from the teachers, some lists from Mr. Jones, Mrs. Longford, Mr. Hayward, and Mr. Parker. You stretched your arms and legs, cracked your neck, and gave a little prayer to the universe that you wish your formal first day will be good. 

Ding! 

The bell on your desk pinged. A man, probably in his early 40s, stood in front of you. He wore a loose shirt with a pale pink tie, his hair was brown and sparse. 

“Mr. Parker?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m Roy Jones, from the math department,” he responds. You gave an embarrassed oh and gave him his stack of books. 

“Sorry, it’s my first day.”

“All good kiddo, you haven’t seen trouble yet, good luck on your first day,” Mr. Jones gave a kind smile before walking away. 

By 8:30 am the students came rushing to your door, you logged borrowed books, received returns, you even did the occasional hush to students being loud, it was going smoothly. The kid in front of you was borrowing a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, an excellent choice you thought. You scanned the QR code inside the book, logged in the student’s info and you kindly smiled while giving the book away. Hours passed of you sitting around, sipping on an orange juice box. By 11 am at least 3 students were studying. 

Ding! 

Oh. The man standing in front of you was tall and handsome, probably in his mid-30s, he wore a neat suit in neutral colors, and his brown hair was combed to the side. You placed your juice box down. 

“Mr. Hayward?” you traced your fingers on the sticky notes on your desk. 

“Parker, Peter Parker,” he replied. Shit, not again. 

“I’m so sorry Mr. Parker.” you shook your head. 

“First day, huh?” you nodded shamefully. He gave you a cheeky smile. 

“Yeah, I’m so sorry,” you took the stack of books with the label Mr. Parker on it. He reached out to take the heavy books, your fingers were slightly touching. Your cheeks warmed from the contact. There was a certain pleasingness in his presence. You scanned the pile trying to spark a conversation. “So you teach physics?”

“Yeah, 8th and 9th actually,” he carries the books in his arms, he may look lean but you could see the way his arms flexed under his suit. “Are you new to the city?”

“Well kinda, I was born here but my family and I moved out when I was 5. I figured coming here in the city could give me more opportunities,” his brows would raise while you talked, making you feel like whatever words came out of your mouth he listened to intently. “How about you? Did you grow up here?”

“I grew up with my aunt, went to Midtown for high school, and Empire State in college. So, yeah, full-time New Yorker here,” he chuckled. “My daughter and I still live in Queens too.”

“Daughter?” you said shockingly. He looked down at his toes, and he laughed again, that soft deep laugh. “Sorry, you don’t look like one”

“I don’t look like a dad?” he said.

“I mean you look pretty young,” you bit the insides of your cheeks. “I’m sorry I must have been taking up too much of your time Mr. Parker, ‘twas a lovely chat though.”

“Oh it’s fine, I’m on lunch break anyway.” you waved him goodbye and he reciprocates the gesture. “By the way, Peter is fine, just Peter.”

He leaves, and you sit back down on your desk, your heart beating a little too fast for your liking. Your knees felt funny like they were going to give out. Oh, god. You were crushing on the physics teacher. 

Before your shift ended Mrs. Longford called and said she couldn’t go to the library due to her pregnancy. You gladly said you would deliver her the books instead. On the way to her room, you couldn’t properly find her classroom, they all looked the same to you, so you went one by one, looking through the windows and checking to see if Mrs. Longford was there. By the eighth classroom, you could see him. Not Mrs. Longford, but Peter. He was demonstrating the law of inertia to the class, making a funny action of being hit in the hip by force, and the class laughed. He seems nice, and the students all listened to him, taking in every word of his lesson. It was admirable really, to have such charisma over a bunch of impressionable kids and use it to educate them. 

The bell rings, and a swarm of students floods the halls. The books in your arms fall as a student bumps into you. You cursed, bending down to pick them up while a pair of arms reached out to help you. It was Peter, he had ditched the suit jacket at this point, his shirt sleeves rolled up to show his veiny arms. 

“Thank you, I was looking for Mrs. Hayward’s classroom and I couldn’t find it,” you hugged the book while Peter carried the other stack. 

“Mrs. Hayward’s room is in the other wing. Don’t worry I’ll walk you to it.”

“Oh no, you must have another class, I can find my way.” you try to take the books but he moves away.

“No it’s fine, my day is done. Let me walk you to her room.” he smiles, again, that pretty Peter smile. 

On the way to Mrs.Longford’s room, you talked about your education, where you went to high school, and in college, and where you live now. The conversation later went to his daughter, Mayday, named after his aunt who has sadly passed. She was 5 years old and in first grade, a smart girl, he says. 

You reached the 3rd door in the left wing. Peter told you that the lady with short hair and red cat-eyed glasses was Mrs.Longford, the baby bump also verified his claim. You knocked, and she waved at you with a smile, you and Peter went in to bring the books. Peter and Mrs. Longford exchanged greetings and talked about an upcoming faculty meeting. You asked Mrs. Longford to sign some papers for the book requests she had made and she obliged. 

Peter walked you back to the library. You continued to chat about random things, your favorite food (he was pizza), your favorite color (he was blue), and your favorite movie (his was Interstellar). You unlocked the library and turned the lights back on. You went back to your desk and Peter took a seat at a nearby desk. You stared at him, arms crossed, legs spread. 

✎𓇢𓆸

Weeks passed, and Peter had been visiting you in the library. Usually, he’d stay to check student papers or read new scientific publications on the school computers, he was nerdy about stuff like that; but most of the time, he just stayed around to talk to you. He would talk to you about Mayday’s science project, which you helped him come up with. It was an iced tea stand presentation that used butterfly pea flower tea and lemon juice, and it changed the blue liquid to a bright purple. She won a silver prize, Peter says. 

Peter had mentioned before that Mayday lives with her mom and that she rarely gets to see her dad. You could see the way the line his mouth would make and how it would frown sometimes when he talked about her. You wanted to give him some piece of comfort, but every time he would smile because it was Mayday, it was his only girl. 

You were at your desk enjoying a sandwich with your favorite orange juice box, Peter sat on the floor next to you hidden from anyone who came to the desk. He, too, enjoyed a sandwich you made. You scrolled through your laptop, mainly on the news. 

“Hey Pete, have you ever seen Spider-man?” you said, Peter almost choked on his food.

“Spider-man?” He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I mean you’ve been here your whole life you must’ve seen him right?” you took a sip of your drink. Peter thought long before he answered.

“No, I haven’t,” he whispered. 

“Boo! You’re boring,” you threw an eraser at him.

“Hey! It’s not my fault he doesn’t swing by my apartment once in a while.”

“Well, I wish he’d come by mine, take me into his arms as we swing away into the sunset,” you waved your arms around thwipping your hands like Spider-man. 

“You’re so silly,” he laughs, he takes a big bite of his sandwich, talking to you while chewing. “You know, Mayday’s been asking about you, she said she wants to thank the guy that helped her come up with her science project.”

“She said that?” you were touched.

“Well, I wanted to invite you, and she told me we haven't celebrated her win so why not invite the guy who helped her,” he finished his sandwich, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “You don’t have to if you’re busy.”

“Friday night right? I’m in.” You smiled.

You knocked at the light blue apartment door, you could hear some ruckus inside. Coming! A man’s voice yells. The doorknob turns and there he was, Peter Parker, dressed in a light gray sweater, the sleeves rolled up, and a red apron. Behind his leg was a little girl with light red hair. 

“Hey there, I’m glad you could come. This is Mayday,” she was shy but she gave you a little wave and a hi. 

Dinner started in a few. Peter served baked macaroni and a Caesar salad. Mayday brought a plate of cookies she made, without her dad’s help, she said (Peter shook his head). You brought a box of pepperoni pizza as per Mayday's (and Peter’s) request. The three of you talked over dinner about how proud you were about the medal and if she ever needed help you would gladly be there. 

After dinner, Peter took the dishes, you went to help but he insisted you not. You were left with Mayday in the living room, she was talking about her favorite book, a book about planets. Venus was her favorite, she says. You began to talk to her about the many books you have on planets in your library and if her dad permitted, you would lend some. 

“Do you like dad?” you were surprised. 

“Yeah, he’s nice,” you offered her a smile, and she gave you a curious gaze instead.

“Dad is always alone.” you looked back at Peter in the sink, the fabric stretching on his back.

“You’re here,” you stroked her hair. “Your dad always tells me stories about you y’know.”

“But when I’m with Mom he’s all alone.” 

“What are you two talking about,” Peter stands above you and Mayday, his hands on his hips. 

“We were talking about your hair. Mayday said you’re starting to look like a sasquatch.” Mayday giggles. 

A few hours later Peter took Mayday to bed. Mayday hugged you and told you goodnight. You bend down to hug her and she tells you to be Dad’s best friend, always. You were sitting on the couch with your hands on your lap. You looked around the place, filled with books and a bunch of Mayday’s stuff. It seems like Peter just lets her stuff stay there, so as not to forget about her presence. Your eyelids begin to fall as you let out a yawn.

“Sleepy?” he mutters. 

“Just a bit. My head is just filled with so many facts about space,” you made a mind-blown gesture, Peter laughs.

“She does that a lot actually.” Peter sits beside you on the couch, keeping his eyes on yours.

“She’s a lovely kid,” you smiled. 

“She is,” Peter sank his head on the couch, his eyes closed. 

“You think I’m alone?” he frowns. “I heard you two earlier.”

“I don’t think so. You have me,” you mutter. Your hands fall on your sides meeting his. He laces your fingers with his, you could feel the warmth of his palms with your cold ones. He chuckles. “It’s pretty late, maybe you should get some rest too.”

“You’re right, let me bring you home first,” you refused. 

“I’d be fine,” you assure him. 

You were outside the apartment. Peter was with you in just his flip-flops, his hand never leaving yours. “I had a wonderful night.”

“Me too,’ Peter said, he took his other hand and patted your hair. You looked at him with hooded eyes, his hand falling to your cheek. You inched closer, your face so close to his chest you could smell him, like an ocean breeze. His face gets close to yours, the moment seemingly getting more tense. His thumb rubs your hand, over and over, it calms you. Underneath the moonlight, your lips meet. A tender kiss weeks in the making. Your eyes closed and you lost yourself in him. Your lips leave him a few moments later, a smile plastered on both your faces. You hail a taxi cab and when one comes, you wave him goodbye. 

But you swore that night, the moment you entered your apartment, you swore you saw the Spider-man swing by, almost like he was waiting for you to come home.

part two posted here

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>