#my favorite days are windy days

[concrete-contemporary]

do you think about me often?

[misqnon]

"ppl who celebrate fictional character birthdays are annoying pass it on” FUCK this post and happy birthday sanji

extras under the cut

[sleebyconfy]

..

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Applying to an apartment with little income and terrible credit score, in hopes that they'll be desperate enough to take me

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Sorry your day has been hard :( a question to distract?

What's your favorite fluffvembner you've wriiten so far?

Aww thank you Anon ❤️ I’ll take distracting questions haha ❤️

I think Dog or Blanket Fort are my favorites. ☺️ I hardly ever comfort Power, and even more rarely do so after his war ended, so it felt… nice. Usually he’s the one who takes all my hurt and hopelessness, so giving him a good night felt like forcing myself to acknowledge that there is still hope in life, you know? It was a nice moment for him and me. And of course Abel with Baby Link and Baby Mipha just tickles me to death, they’re such sillies and kids trying to protect/care for their parents is the cutest thing ever.

Thanks for asking ❤️

[chocochat]

idk what to wear to mitski tomorrow 🐱

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 9: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll helped The Adventurer build his raft...

"After two hours of fumbling about with tangled rope and tree branches, he's finally produced something that at least.. mostly, looks like a normal raft. He attaches a few extra flowers for decoration, loops his cat into a makeshift safety harness (so they can't get lost in the water), then gives everything one last check before deciding it's all ready to go, nervously pushing off into the river...

Surprisingly, it floats just fine. As long as he doesn't make any sudden movements, the raft doesn't threaten to flip over, or even wobble nearly as much as he expected. There's no way to really steer or paddle, but he does have a large stick he occasionally uses to push himself away from rocks or other obstacles. Luckily, the current is very slow at this section of the river, and hopefully will remain so for his entire trip.

Just lazily floating around, he estimates he should travel about 4 hours to fully get past the blocked road and end up at the next area on his map. Though the raft is too small (and too lumpy) to comfortably lay on, he can still recline slightly, bathing in the near afternoon sun, watching the scenery slowly drift by....

About 30 minutes into his first ever sailing adventure, he feels the water shift as a larger boat comes near. He can't see it clearly yet, but it seems to be nice - polished wood with painted sections and little flags draped along the sides, presumably some sort of actual steering and propelling mechanisms, and about 10 people lounging on the surface, maybe having some sort of party..? It's been very quiet so far, these are the first other travelers he's seen in the entire area today... Should he attempt to make contact with them? "

--------

Additional details -

Boat Make-up : Based on the results of the last poll (where people helped him make a boat by choosing the amount of materials) -- With 30% branches and 21% rope, there's only a 9% difference between them, so both are in pretty close amounts, which means there's a TON of rope. (normal ratio would be like 65% wood and 10% rope lol). I probably should have even added more, but it's so visually busy, just pretend there's extra rope wrapped under the boat too.

30% branch and 15% fabric means there's about half as much fabric as there is wood, which is also A LOT for just a little side decoration, so I made the flag huge, and a square of fabric for the cat to sit on. 10% berries means that there's enough ink for 1/3 of the wood to be entirely covered in purple designs. The least amount was the twigs and leaves for padding, which would cover a little under 1/3 of the wood (laid on top). then a little over 1/3 of the space is flowers for decor, which are just kind of sitting in a pile on top, with a few actually tied down onto the flag or other areas.

Since the branches were pretty close in percentage to all other things (not like 80% branches and 20% all other materials), the raft is fairly small, as not much wood was used.

main goal: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[nat-seal-well]

The waves at the coast are supposed to be HUGE this week cause of the storm system passing through and I’m so sad that I have to be at work

[windfighter]

I think the hermits would die if they saw my plate up set up x3

[coffinflop]

i love the concept of trench coats but they make me think of castiel and make me look like a school shooter

[lnfours]

you | l.n

summary: what’s more romantic: laying cuddled up next to the fireplace on christmas eve with the love of your life, or that special item in the little black box with a bow?

warnings: established relationship, mentions of sexual content, holiday vibes, and tooth rotting fluff.

message from jordan: hi everyone! here’s to the first christmas fic you’ll be receiving from me! don’t worry, focal point is still very much in production and will most likely have a chapter coming out later this week :) i hope you all enjoy!! sending you all my love, as always 🤍

masterlist | inbox

the orange and yellow flames kept the both of you warm as you laid with your head on his chest. his fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes into the soft skin of your bicep, your head resting on his chest as you found yourself listening to the sound of his beating heart.

the one that only beats for you.

your legs were intertwined with his, and you had found yourself tracing over the indents in his abdomen with your fingernails. silky soft and tanned skin littered with moles and freckles. the same ones you made sure you pressed kisses to every time you found yourself in their path. they littered his skin like stars in the night sky. and to you, they were just as beautiful. one of your favorite features of his.

his breath tickled your neck, smiling softly when he placed a kiss to the skin where your neck met your collarbone. you felt him pull you closer against him, leaving no gaps between you. not even enough space for air.

it was the little moments like these that you cherished the most, the ones you held close to your heart. the ones you’d think of whenever someone would mention how well the two of you mesh together, that you’re the definition of his soulmate. his version of a nice, warm soup you crave on a cold and windy winter day.

simply enough, you were each other’s soul healing medicine.

“missed you,” he mumbled against the crook of your neck, “sorry i couldn’t help you bring your stuff over.”

he had told you to bring more things from your apartment to his house. and when you protested, he argued that you already had a side of the vanity in the bathroom filled with your makeup, skincare and any other possible hygiene products you could think of. you had even taken over a side of his closet.

and maybe a drawer or two of his dresser that you hadn’t told him about. instead, while in search of a pair of socks, he had found a couple pairs of your pajamas in the drawer.

the simple fact that you had been leaving your things behind whenever you’d go back to your apartment for a couple days was like little reminders to him. reminders that you’d be back in a few days time, that it wasn’t a temporary situation to you. this was real. and you were all in, just like him.

“‘s okay, max was here to help,” you said, “sorry i took over one of your shelves. i wanted to bring some books,”

he shook his head, “don’t be sorry, i like your stuff being here. makes it feel more like home.”

you smiled, tilting your head to meet the pair of blueish-green eyes you had fallen head first in love with. the ones you had seen one night out in london, the ones that you had been mesmerized by ever since.

he tapped on your arm lightly, a silent signal that he was going to move. you untangled yourself from him with a soft frown, not really wanting to reposition yourself beings the previous state had been far more comfortable. you sat up as he did, watching as he kneeled towards the tree, picking up various packages and looking at them before putting them back down. it was like he was looking for one in particular.

“what’re you doing?”

“looking for something,” he said softly, “i can’t remember where i put it- oh here it is.”

you furrowed your eyebrows when he turned around with a small little box in his hand. a black box with a white bow on the top, too neatly done to have been done by him. you squinted at him, taking it cautiously.

“it’s not christmas yet,” you questioned his actions.

“i know, but i’ve been trying to decide if i wanted to give it to you early,” he said, “but i think now is the perfect time. besides the fact that i’m impatient.”

you chuckled softly, undoing the bow on top and playfully tossing it his way. his reflexes allowed him to catch it, placing it down on the floor next to him. he took the time to take in your figure, how pretty you looked in the dim light of the christmas tree and city lights shining in through the windows. how his tshirt had ended up around your frame, hair slightly messy.

to him, you were the most perfect person in the world. the only person he envisioned a life with, who he wanted to come home to at the end of the day. the only one who understood him better than he knew himself. he thanked every god possible and counted every lucky star for the night in london that had changed his life.

“i swear, if something pops out at me, so help me god,”

he laughed, “nothings gonna pop out at you, baby. promise.”

you squinted, narrowing your eyes towards him as a sign that you didn’t necessarily believe him. you lifted the lid of the box with slight caution, and when it was clear that he was telling the truth about there being no surprises, you fully opened it. however, the gift inside the box raised more questions.

“a key?” you lifted your head, letting your eyes meet his as you held it up, “to what?”

“our home.”

you blinked at him, speechless for a moment as he smirked at you.

“wait, what-?”

“move in with me,” he said, “i’ve been thinking about it, for a while now actually, and you’re the person i want to have a life with. i want to come home and find you on the couch watching tv or dancing along to the music playing in the kitchen while you’re cooking dinner. youre the one i want to wake up next to every morning, the one i want to say goodnight to every night before i fall asleep. it’s you, not anyone else,”

you fought the tears welling up in your eyes from his sweet words as he continued, “and i love the fact that every single one of your things has a spot next to mine. i want this crazy little life that we have forever, so this is my way of asking if you’ll move in with me.”

you bit on your bottom lip as you smiled, “i mean, i don’t really go to my apartment anymore anyway, so-“

he didn’t let you finish before he was pulling on your arms to bring you closer to him, making you squeal as you landed on top of him on the floor. you giggled when he pressed his lips to yours, kissing him back. the kiss only breaking when your smiles got to be too wide.

“i love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “more than anything.”

you hummed, “i’ll always love you more, though.”

warmth spread for your chest at the idea of taking your relationship one step forward. you had known for a while that he was the one you wanted to do everything with, but knowing he was on the exact same page as you was a feeling like no other. a state of euphoria. one that made you feel giddy inside, like you were back in high school with a crush all over again. the same kind of exciting feeling that you prayed never died.

and as long as he was yours and you were his, that was never going to go away.

he flipped the two of you over so he was back to hovering over you on the floor, the same position the two of you had been in earlier in the night. you played with the hairs on the back of his neck absentmindedly as you spoke.

“even though it’s not a new home, does this count enough that we get to christen every surface of this apartment?”

he laughed softly, nose bumping against yours, fingers lightly tracing into the skin of your waist underneath your shirt, his lips brushing against yours sending shivers down your spine. the kind only he could cause.

“do we even have any spots left?”

“oh i’ve got a mental list, don’t worry.” you smiled as his head fell to your collarbone. the sound of his giggle echoing through the room, causing you to laugh too.

your eternal happy place.

“then, what’re we waiting for?”

“i like the way you think, pretty boy.”

[jaysng]

confessing to his mute crush | pjs

pairing: jay x deaf!reader

genre: complete fluff

summary: jay and deaf reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failer the reader does something surprising.

“i. hope. i. am. not. late”  jay signed and chuckled as he fixed his cross body bag standing nervously infront of you which got out of place while he was running to the stop you had asked him to be at.

you smile at him, knowing he recently had learned sign language just to be able to communicate with you and so he was, a little slow and not so clear. 

you loved cycling alot, and bought this brand new bicycle and you had asked him if he wanted to spend a day out riding it and then go off to the beach and sit there. 

jay and you met through the same animal care shelter you guys volunteered to work at, his charming smile immediately caught your attention. however it was hard to communicate with your muteness, you only knowing sign language and him knowing none of it.

however within a span of few months, jay started learning it to be able to communicate with you. 

it made your heart flutter, i mean it’s the effort and dedication. still you asked yourself ‘does he even like me back?’

“is. this. the. new. cycle. that. you. bought?”he asked as you nodded and got off it, you touched the cute basket decorated with a small miffy teddy and a pink bow, it also had the dirty wrapper of chocolate you ate earlier. 

embarrassed, you took it out and threw it somewhere on the ground.

“i decorated it” you signed as he looked at you and smiled, making you blush as you looked away, anywhere but his eyes. 

“예쁘다” he said, even though you obviously didn’t hear him you read his lips quickly anyways. signing a quick thank you you sit back on your cycle and signal him to sit. 

he sits behind you hands on your shoulder as you begin to hit the pedal and ride around the city. 

some moments later you feel jay’s hand shifting from your shoulder to your waist now that you’re cycling in a well pace. 

the wind blows on your face blowing your hair back at his face too, you hit the break for a moment and turn around and give him an apologetic look. 

he smiles at you taking your hair and putting them to one side of your shoulder and keeping his chin on the other, staring at you the entire time he does so.

you squirm and try to get used to the feeling of his charp chin on your shoulder as it’s digging through. 

you shove the feeling off as you start riding again, this moment was really perfect for you, everything was so good. a nice cloudy, windy weather with your favorite person  friend hugging you by the waist and face on your shoulder, what a dream really.

you guys rode the cycle around the city, stopping by a store to get ice cream, as you parked your cycle near the store you guys stood on the footpath and he bought some ice cream.

you looked at him to see if he finished his and you caught him staring at you, he pretended to look around and controlled his cheeky smile but then something else caught your attention wired headphones connected to his phone in his pocket.

you grab them and gain his attention as he looks back at you “you like music?” he nodded and took his phone put of the pocket searching for something. 

curiously, you stared as you got closer to see his screen “this. is. my. favorite. song” he signed enthusiastically as you widen your eyes giving him a cheering gesture.

you stopped as you looked at him “i wish i could listen to it.. it must be nice” silence filled the space between both of you as you stared deep into you while smiling “it is.”both of you finished the ice cream before it melted.

after cycling and strolling around the pretty city here you were sitting on the rocks of the beach as the wind blew every once in a while.

jay had this thing forever in his mind, he loved you he loved you so damn much. everything you did got him screaming internally to wife him up.

“it’s fun being with you, you know?” you signed as jay felt his heart racing a million times in a second what could she mean by that? she probably meant as a friend right? or am i letting my stupid thoughts take over. 

“thank. you.” he says as you close your eyes and give him the widest smile. 

being with him made you feel full, it made you feel like finally you had a friend. but you quickly fell in love with him because of his mannerisms.

even though at school no one really bullied you, but there wasn’t something big for someone to  findi you interesting. emptiness fill inside of you, as for others you were just there, not enough things to be interesting for someone. or atleast for the people around you. jay knew these very well that’s why he hated the fact he fell in love with you so fast and was worried that you might reject him because of how fast everything would happen.

but little did he know that your feelings were pretty.. mutual you can say.

there was a wooden stick in your hand with which you were doodling on the beach sand with, jay was observing each and every move.

with that lavender sundress you were wearing it made everything 10 times cuter in his eyes. the way the wind slightly blew back your hair but you kept on fixing it.

you started moving the stick and you wrote your name’s inital with did adding a unfilled heart after it and looked at jay “want to try?” you ask bringing the stick closer to him as he accepts it. 

he looks at you for a second passing you a lovestruck look. 

J +

he writes before your names inital as you shoot him a confusing look with a nervous smile. 

he looks at you as his smile drops, emotions very visible in his eyes. 

=

he adds an equals to sign between your inital and the unfilled heart, following with filling the unfill heart that you drew. 

your smile drops as you stare back at him, completely in shock and he stares back with a regretful look in his eyes. 

you watch him take a big breath after looking at your reaction, not quite promising is it.

“i. like. you.” you sit there, puzzled. you don’t know whether to do something or cry, the moment feels unreal. 

it all felt so quick that you didn’t realise you haven’t responded to him yet for about past five minutes atleast. 

his hopeful looks now dies as he apologizes and stands up, “i am sorry, i am sorry, sorry i should leave i should probably leave.” he says as you try to read his lips “sorry…. should leave” you could pick up some of the words not many because of how rapid and low his mouth worked. 

you watch him stand up quickly wearing his bag not even sparing another glance at you as he starts walking away.

you felt your cheeks getting warm as everythinf starts getting blurry due to the upcoming tears.

you shake and get up dropping your own bag on the floor. 

“stay” 

did i say it right? you swore you heard the vibrations in your body of your own voice. not fully hearing what you said or if you said it right or no. 

breathing heavily, jay stops in his tracks as he turns around and stares at you in disbelief as you break down. right on that spot you were standing at. 

the word wasn’t clear and mix of broken and light cracks of course, a very weak one because of the vocal chords.

you felt bad for making him wait for so long or making his excitement go away for taking your no response as rejection.

you were just shocked, he actually liked you back? your entire life you felt so neglected and behind just because you were deaf, but now some thing good is finally.. happening?

now standing in a distance both of you staring at each other as he watches uncontrollable tears flow down your face as you sign a ‘i like you too.” while lowering your head and start sobbing. 

jay runs back to you and closes the distance, both of you hug like losers. 

because of the closeness you can feel his body vibrations and shivering, as you realise that he is crying you push him back to see his eyes now your eyes widened “why are you crying silly i should be the one crying..”

he just shrugs while trying to give you a smile and crying.

you bring your hands to wipe his tears off as you hold his face. his hands naturally rest on your waist. 

for a short moment you guys look deep into each other’s eyes as you lean in signaling for a kiss.

you felt him giggling like a teenage boy as he leaned in and pressed his soft lips to yours. 

he could taste the strawberry ice cream you ate earlier on your lips, your scent filling his nostrils and working as a hypnosis.

you pull away taking a long breath, “wasn’t it too long for a first kiss?” you sign while wiping away your own tears now and laughing.

once again complete silence fills the beach as the only thing playing if only you could hear, was the sound of the waves. both of you completely lost in each other’s eyes, it was like your eyes are speaking it all for you. 

but you noticed it, you noticed he was holding back a reply so you hit his chest “say it. say what you want to say.”

he broke the eye contact looking away at the sea, the waves coming and hitting the shore as his stupid smile came back on his face. 

he looked back at you and fixed your hair, brought his hands back to himself and signed at you. 

“i. could. kiss. you. for. an. eternity.”

[nosyrobin]

|| WHEN UNCLE!READER GETS SICK AND THE BATBOYS HEAR ABOUT IT ||

Coughing, sneezing, raspy voice, achy body. Oh dear, you got a cold. Shaking like a damn leaf on a windy day, you called your brother. Bruce immediately picks up the phone, you knew he was in the bat cave. Hearing the bat-computer keys and talking. You could only roll your eyes as you talked to him. “Can’t make it. I’m sick” you said. He responded it with a “sick? Stay home. I’ll send Alfred to make you some soup Y/N.” You could only nod before coughing a storm up. If you could see your brother now, he would be frowning with concern.

“It’s not….deadly is it?” “What?! Bruce, no. It’s a cold. Yknow how I get.” You said closing your eyes about to hang up and rest. Bruce only sighed for the other side of the phone. “Alright.” “And Bruce.” “Yeah?” “DONT let the boys know I’m sick. Yknow how they get when I’m sick…” sadly they found out. You didn’t know how or when. But of course you knew who found out first.

Tim found out first, first because you didn’t show to the manor on the daily time you always do. Tim notice Alfred picking up your favorite soup you eat when sick when you use to live here at the manor when he was Robin. Tim frowned, you’re sick. You’re sick, alone, withering away in bed. What kind of nephew would he be if his dear uncle is not with company. So with that, he grabbed some doctor gloves, a face mask, hand sanitizer and Lysol. He was prepared. When Alfred went away to secure the packed soup, Tim took the packed up soup and ran out the door to drive to your house.

Jason surprisingly was the second to find out. He lives with you, like a roommate kinda of thing? So why in the world would he be second? Because he was too busy bleeding out in the manor after a fight and he had to stay in the same manor over night before you had gotten sick. Jason had seen Tim run out the door when he came down the stairs. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he also sen that the packed soup was the kind of soup you ate only if you were sick or terribly hungry. But since he knew you weren’t in the manor, he went with the former and immediately dressed up to go see his sick uncle.

Damian, he always knows when something is going on. But he definitely knows when something is going on when he sees his two brothers leave the manor. “Uncle’s sick Titus. Drake has his favorite soup and Todd has his favorite book. Pathetic, they forgot uncle’s heated up blanket.” Damian says with a smirk. Certainly holding it as Titus barks at his owner. “Guess we will pay my uncle a visit, I’ll see you later.” The brown skinned boy said as he pats his beloved dog. Leaving the manor with a shortcut to your house.

Dick was last, and was mad knowing that no one informed him that you were sick! Like cmon, he’s the first Robin and he had more of a bond with you when he was little! So how could his brothers leave him in the dust like that! He immediately got off work and speeded over to your house. He got some of your snacks, a “get well soon” card. And just some flowers, it was perfect. Perfect for the “favorite” nephew of course.

Tim was first at your door and entered using a copy of your spare key, then Jason shoulder rushed Tim like a football player, Damian was going through your window, and dick…dick just stood there watching his little brothers cause havoc. The soup was saved by Damian sliding to catch it, Tim almost had a heart attack as Jason just glares at all the brothers in his “home.”

Damian smirks, ready to get the “best nephew” award by handing you the soup you desire when sick. That was before Jason picked him like a stray cat. “What the hell you’re doing here demon?” “I’m just doing what needs to be done. Helping uncle.” Damian says with a glare. Dick takes Damian out of Jason’s bear grip and then helps Tim up. “Well, arguing isn’t going to help. Let’s just see how unc is doing guys.” All the boys nod in agreement, going inside your room. Tim still looks like a doctor so he was the last one in.

You were surprised, very surprised to see all four of your brother’s kids and your nephews at your house smiling as if they didn’t just break in. You heard them, but you thought you were just hallucinating. Damian gave you the still hot and ready soup on your night stand and your blanket. He wanted to get on your bed and lay with you, but you shook your head no. Not wanting to get him sick. Jason just sat down in a chair you have in your room, watching you closely like a hawk in case something happens. Tim was taking your temperature, asking you about the medicine you have taken. Basically a worried baby worried for his poor “old” uncle. Dick just lays the basket of things he bought for you. Smirking as he made a comment about how he is obviously the “favorite” nephew. That made everyone mad, cue to loud arguing and Damian ready to jump his brother.

As much as the boys loved you, they acted as if you were on your death bed. Which made you kinda mad, but at least they care for you a lot. But the constant arguing was not helping you as headaches started to attack. You coughed loudly as you felt your eyes droop more. You hated being sick, but you mostly hated your peace being ruined.

“Out! Out now!” You yelled with a raspy voice, all the boys stop. Frowning before leaving, except for Jason who stood there with crossed arms. “I live here unc…” you glare before throwing a box of tissues at your buffed up nephew who didn’t seem phased at all. “Not as of now mister, you stay at the manor or whatever you go until I get better.” Jason stayed silent before leaving. Not before putting a bottled up medicine by your bed, with a small note that says “get better.”

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (34/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The boat that's actually a yacht - and it's just the two of you.

Warnings: fluff, minimal angst, Google translated French, no knowledge of boats

Word Count: 3.9k

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A/N: we're back bitches!!! love you. feedback is appreciated!

"What do we need?" you ask, taking a sip of your coffee. "Apart from Kika's spontaneous photos, I've only taken pictures of inanimate objects so far. And the one of you."

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "When Joris and I take photos together, we'll pack a bag of different clothes." When you raise an eyebrow in confusion, Charles purses his lips. "We always take several photos, for several posts. If we don't have time to take new pictures, we always have some in stock that we can use without them looking like old pictures."

"Okay." You put your mug down on the work surface in front of you. "Anything else?"

Your roommate grins. "Your camera."

"Haha." You toss it off with a kitchen towel. "I mean, do you need anything else in the way of props or anything?"

He shakes his head. "Actually, no. Everything you could possibly need for a photo shoot is already on the boat." He nods towards the hallway. "You just need long clothes in case it gets colder later."

You nod. "All right. Then you pack a bag with the things you need and I'll pack one with clothes I can wear if it gets cold later." You walk around the kitchen island towards the hallway. 

"And don't forget your camera." You can even hear the smirk, which is why you give him the middle finger without turning around. 

As you stand in your room, you don't really know what to pack. 

Although it's supposed to be twenty degrees outside - which sounds totally surreal for a day before Christmas - your weather app tells you that it's going to be almost three degrees at night. 

"How long are we staying on the boat?" you shout loudly so that Charles can hear you. You throw a large bag on the bed. 

"No idea," says Charles calmly. When you turn around, he's standing in the doorway. "You and I can leave after the pictures. Or stay there all day. Or the night." He shrugs his shoulders. "There's no time when the boat has to be back in port."

You sigh. "I'm afraid that doesn't help me much." You point to the bag on the bed. "I can't pack my entire closet, Charles. Tell me what to pack." You look at him pleadingly. 

"All right." He enters your bedroom and looks around before reaching for some clothes lying on the floor. "Here, the sweatpants are good. If you want to lie out on the sun bed in the evening, you'll need these." He tosses them to you. You catch them and fold them up to stow them neatly in your bag. "Do you have comfy socks or something?" 

"Ehm, yeah," you say, pulling some out of the pile of clothes Kika left there and tucking them into the side pocket of the bag.

Charles kneels down on the floor and sifts through the pile at your feet. "You'll definitely need a thick sweater. It's going to be pretty windy when we're out at sea." He rummages around in your clothes until he fishes out a black sweater and holds it out to you. "Tada."

The first thing you notice about the sweater is that it's not yours. The black hoodie is too big to be yours. The second thing you notice about it is that it's the sweater Charles gave you the night you went to your favorite place. 

The night Charles showed you his talent on the piano. The night you almost kissed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. 

You can't tell Charles that you don't want to wear the sweater, even though it's incredibly comfortable. It certainly still smells like Charles, although perhaps not as strongly - after all, he hasn't worn it for days. You don't want to be wrapped up in his scent and be at risk of getting weak. The distance that needs to exist between you is the right thing to do. 

Charles looks at you questioningly from the floor and you realize you've already hesitated too long.

"That - that's not my sweater," you simply say. 

Your friend examines the sweater in his hand. "Really?" he asks, confused, smelling the collar. "But it smells like you."

You shake your head. "That's yours. You - uh - you lent it to me when we went to petits mondes," you explain as he folds the fabric and puts it to one side. 

"Oh. Right." He looks at the sweater before his gaze lands on you again. "You can keep it if you want."

You wave it off. "It's all right. Thanks for letting me borrow it. But it's yours after all, so..." You step nervously from one foot to the other. 

Charles watches you for a moment and then turns away. "All right, then. How about this one then?" He pulls another sweater out of the pile of laundry. This time it's actually yours. It's white, with red stripes on it and the collar reaches up to your chin. You definitely won't catch a cold in this. 

"It's good," you reply with a smile and catch it as he throws it to you. You fold it before putting it in your pocket as well. "What about your clothes? Do you want them in the bag too?" you ask him, hoping that he will take his clothes separately and not infect your clothes with his smell. 

Charles gets up from the floor. "I'll pack my own bag. You still have to pack your camera," he smiles, patting non-existent dust off his pants. "About the trip to the port..." he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You grab your camera bag and stow it next to your clothes in your bag. Hopefully the spare battery is charged. "Hmm?"

"I suggest we take your car and I'll drop you off. Then you won't have to walk far to get to the boat," he explains. "I'll park your car in a side street and then join you. Then we won't be seen together."

You look at him, confused. "Can people just get on your boat like that? Aren't you afraid that some crazy fans will suddenly come out of - I don't know - your cabin?"

Charles has to smile. "Someone will be waiting for you there. They'll let you on the boat."

Embarrassed, you curl your lips into a thin line. Of course there's someone at the docks to make sure no one sneaks onto strangers' boats. "Okay."

You stand opposite each other, undecided, until Charles takes the first step. "I'll just pack my bag and then we can go." Smiling, he disappears from your bedroom. 

While Charles stuffs everything he can find into a bag, you gather some snacks in the kitchen to take with you on the boat. Charles has hinted that there would be a cook on site, but you might not be there for too long, so a proper meal wouldn't be worth it. 

As you prepare some sandwiches and put them in a bag, Charles appears behind you. "Are you ready?" he asks, leaning on the kitchen island. 

"Yep," you reply and place a few small bottles of water next to the sandwiches. When you look at Charles, he grins. "What is it?"

"Nothing." His grin almost reaches his ears. "There's water on the boat too, you know."

You roll your eyes. "I've never been on a boat before." 

Charles raises his eyebrows briefly before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as special as you make it out to be."

You squint your eyes a little. "Only rich people say that."

He tilts his head. "Do you want to go on the boat or not?"

"Like I said," you start the sentence and grab the snacks, "only if I can steer it once."

Charles reaches for the keys to your Renault. "Don't you dare crash it," he warns you as you walk towards the elevator. He presses the button and a short time later the doors open. "That boat was expensive."

"Don't worry," you try to reassure him. "I'll just hold the wheel firmly and steer straight ahead." You wink at him and step into the elevator. 

Charles has to smile and follows you. "I think I'll only let you take the wheel on the open sea. There's much less risk of you ramming other boats."

"You have a lot of faith in me," you say with mock hurt and put your hand on your chest. 

"I do," he says seriously. "I'd trust you with my life."

-

You walk uncertainly around the various walkways. 

Before you got out of the car, Charles said there would be a man standing in front of his boat to help you find it. You would also have to say a password so that you would be granted access to Charles' boat. 

"For security," he explained. "We don't want everyone to get on the boat."

With your two bags on your shoulders, you walk past a few boats that certainly cost more than you'll ever earn. But nowhere is there a man to signal that you are in the right place. 

There are a few people at the harbor, but no one pays you any attention. They are chatting with friends, frolicking on boats and enjoying the warmth of the sun one last time before the year is over and winter finally sets in. You walk past them with your head down. 

Cautiously and indecisively, you walk on and the boats become yachts on which great parties are sure to take place in summer. They are big and nice and you wonder whether you should google one of the types to find out what price range the yachts of the rich and famous are in. 

You are torn from your thoughts by a man. "Madame? Vous cherchez quelque chose?" are you looking for something? 

Somewhat taken by surprise, you stop. You are standing in front of a large, white yacht. With its two floors, it towers above its neighbors by quite a bit. 

"Uhm," you look at the man uncertainly. "Je cherche le bateau d'un ami," you explain. I'm looking for my friends boat. 

The man raises an eyebrow as if he's wondering what you're doing here. Your uncertainty and searching eyes probably made you stand out immediately. You don't fit in here, that's for sure. 

When the man doesn't answer, you try the password Charles told you. "Chicken?" you ask uncertainly, but when the man smiles at you and reaches for your pockets, you exhale with relief. 

You've found the boat. Thank goodness. 

The man helps you onto the yacht and leads you past the sun bed into the interior, which is much bigger than you imagined, and places your bags on a couch. A couch. On a boat. How crazy. 

"Voulez-vous boire quelque chose?" would you like something to drink? He smiles kindly at you. 

"Non, merci," you thank him and look around. On the floor, next to a couch and a small bar, is the steering wheel, which you hope you'll be able to take the plunge on later. To the right, a staircase leads down to the lower floor, where there are not just one, but three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. 

Astonished, you run your fingers over one of the large beds. The fabric is soft and pleasant against your skin and you can almost imagine how comfortable the bed would be if you snuggled up there after a day in the sun. 

"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't find my boat." 

As you turn around, Charles is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching you. Without further ado, you sit down on the bed behind you. "I was looking for a boat too. Not a castle on the water."

He has to grin. "The boat is still relatively small compared to the ones that dock here in the harbor in summer."

You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

He takes a step towards you. "Really. I'm the outsider with my little boat. There's nothing under five stories." He bites the inside of his cheek. "How do you like my boat?"

You nod. "Your yacht is really nice." You grin at him and take a look at the bed you're on. "But why do you need so much space at sea?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I usually spend the summer break here with my family. Not all of the time, of course, but when we go out on it, it's quite a few days. And I'll be damned if I'm going to share a bed with Arthur."

You try to suppress your grin, but unfortunately you don't succeed. "Why? Does he kick while he sleeps?"

"No," says Charles, leaning against the bed at a little distance from you. "But he used to steal the blanket in the past and then I had to freeze all night."

You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just fought for it?"

"Believe me when I tell you I tried several times," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "He practically wraps himself up like a burrito and when that happens, you've lost."

"Then I know who I'd never share a bed with," you joke, but Charles looks a little more serious.

"I hope so." Before the mood can turn negative, he smiles at you. "Are you ready? Shall we go out?"

You look at him excitedly. "Oh yes." You jump off the bed and smooth out the creases you've left in the comforter. "How long will it take us to get outside?"

"Not long at all. I think twenty minutes and that's it," he explains, turning to head up the stairs.

When you reach the top, Charles gets behind the wheel. You look at him, confused. "Are you driving the yacht?"

"Yep."

"All the time?"

"Yep." He grins at you. "Except for the time you're at the wheel, of course."

You want to jump up and down with excitement. "And where's the man who let me on the boat?"

Charles presses a few buttons and the display in front of him comes to life. "Thomas? He's left the boat."

"Are we all alone?" you ask uncertainly and sit down on the couch. "I thought you still had a chef on board?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You brought some snacks with you. Thomas also packed some food in the fridge in case you and I want to cook something later."

You purse your lips. You would spend the whole day on the water with Charles. Alone. And you would take pictures of him, which he would post on his official Instagram profile. And you would cook in the small kitchen in the basement. The distance you want to maintain between you seems to be shrinking somehow. 

"You're not going out on the boat with me to kill me and get rid of me discreetly, are you?" you ask him jokingly. 

"Believe me. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it on our first day," he grins and puts his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you ready?" Charles asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and small dimples form in his cheeks as he looks at you. 

Gorgeous. 

You smile back. "I'm ready, captain."

He winks at you. "Let's go then."

Concentrating, Charles steers his yacht out of the harbor between the other boats. The rocking is surprisingly pleasant and not as bad as you expected, so you lie down on the couch and wait until you arrive at your destination. Charles remains silent for a while, so you don't say anything either, worried about disturbing his concentration, but while he steers the boat, you start working on your camera settings and think about which one would be best for your shoot. 

After twenty minutes, the yacht comes to a halt and Charles turns to you. "Alright."

Excitedly, you get up from the couch and follow him outside to the sun bed you had your eye on when you boarded. As you look around, you are amazed. You can still see the land in the distance, but you are so far out that it almost merges with the horizon. Although there is a sea breeze blowing around you, the sun is so bright that you don't freeze. It's reflected on the clear water and you want to put on a bikini and jump in. 

Charles seems to notice your gaze. "Next summer, I'll take you with me and then you can swim and sunbathe here until you get sunburnt."

You smile at him. "I'll gladly take you up on that offer." You glance back inside. "Do you need to get changed or are we going to start straight away?"

Charles snaps his fingers once before pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing towards the interior. You try not to stare after him and you ignore how wide his back is and how his muscles move under his skin as he puts his shirt down on the couch. He opens his bag and pulls out a white shirt. When he turns back to you, you turn away quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed you watching him. 

"Ready when you are."

Charles changes clothes more often than you can imagine. He has different outfits ready for every pose and every location on his yacht, which he slips into in order to take the best possible picture. In between, you take a sandwich break on the sun bed and enjoy the warm sun on your skin before getting back to work. 

It doesnt take long for you to figure that Charles is the perfect man for the job. He's so easy to work with, even though he jokes most of the time and you surely have more photos of him looking funny than serious. But you enjoy it the way it is. Happy, free, without a care in the world.

When you have finished and Charles is happy with the photos you took, he suggests going home in the evening. You nod and sit down on the couch. 

When he looks at you expectantly, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"

"I thought you wanted to steer the boat." In his hand, he holds a bandana that he ties around his head to control his hair, which is messy from the constant changing of clothes.

You widen your eyes. "I thought you were messing with me."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Why would I do that? There's nothing and no one here that you can put at risk. And you won't be steering for long." He leans against the seat in front of the wheel. "If you want, the seat is yours."

Excited, you get up from the couch and get behind the wheel. Charles explains everything to you and you try to concentrate on his words as best you can, but he is so close to you that his scent of perfume, a little sweat and him envelops you. 

With his help, the boat sets off and you jump up and down on the seat with joy. Your hair is blowing around your head and it's so loud that you almost scream. "Oh my God! How fucking awesome is that?" You don't even notice that you've let go of the steering wheel.

"Hands on the wheel, you crazy woman!" laughs Charles, holding the wheel tightly. As you look at him, you see a spark of the Charles you know. The Charles that existed before yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you apologize and put your hands back on the wheel. "Oh my God! Can you take a picture of me?" 

Charles takes two steps back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "Smile, please."

You grin so wide it almost hurts, but you can't stop. It seems so unbelievable that you are on a yacht and even get to steer it. 

You smile at Charles, tears stinging your eyes. A few days ago, you were almost homeless, all alone and on your own. There aren't enough words in the world to describe how grateful you are for the Monegasque who took you in. Who took you into his heart without hesitation. Who was there for you without batting an eyelid.

Fuck, you love him. And nothing in the world will ever change that.

"Thank you."

He lowers his cell phone. "For what?"

A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. "For everything." 

Charles takes a step towards you and you would love to take him in your arms and never let him go again. But he stops an arm's length away from you and smiles at you. "I would do anything for you."

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, so you avert your gaze and look ahead again. Monaco is getting closer, but you would prefer to stay here. On the yacht and on the sea. You don't want to go back to reality yet - not if you can be here with Charles. The way it was before.

"I don't want to go back yet," he voices your thoughts and puts a hand on the wheel. When you look at him, he smiles a little brokenly. "I don't want to go back yet because I'm afraid that things won't be the same between you and me. That I'll lose you. And I don't want that." 

His words hit you so hard that you can't breathe. You would love to take him in your arms and kiss him and reassure him that you belong to him like the sand belongs to the sea, but that's not the way Charles means it. 

But you don't care how Charles means it. You belong to him - no matter which way.

"Then let's not go back," you suggest. "We - we can stay here and we won't go back until tomorrow."

Charles' smile looks forced. "And then?"

"Then we'll go home." You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips. "To our home."

Charles exhales in relief, as if the elephant that had been standing on his chest had finally gotten off of him. As if he had been underwater for too long and could now take his first breath. He would love to stay here forever, with you, far away from the reality of all the pressure he is under. 

As you smile at him, the pressure seems to fall off him. As if he has finally reached his destination, wherever that may be. Like he's home. 

Fuck, he'd do anything for you if you just asked him to.

He motions for you to let him into the seat, and as you swap places, he brings the yacht to a halt. As the engine shuts down, he slides off the seat and turns to face you. 

"Have you ever gotten drunk on a boat before?"

[powderpinkandsweeet]

Loser Ellie haunts my thoughts

-kinda creepy Ellie, a little nsfw but not so much, apartment living, you live in the apartment above her, she loves some wiggle and jiggle

You crossed her path once in a while since you lived in the same apartment complex. You would smile at her as you passed by, a quiet “good morning” or “hello” exchanged between you two. Your smile was so warm, and your voice sweet. To and from your homes, she savored the smell of your shampoo as you passed in the narrow stairwell.

You lived directly above her one-bedroom apartment. Ellie only knew your name because a package of yours had been delivered to her by mistake. The return address was for a cosmetics company, so it was definitely delivered to her by mistake. She guessed that C233 was close enough to C333 to be a mistake, or maybe the mailman just didn’t feel like climbing to the third floor. Either way, she took great pleasure in learning more about you and standing on your doorstep. You didn’t answer when she knocked, so she left a sticky note atop the box and left it on your welcome mat.

“The mailman left this for me but I think it’s yours.

-Ellie, C233”

Ellie loved how predictable you became. She had practically memorized your routine by the sound of your footsteps or the water running through the drain of your shower and through the building’s pipes. She knew you did laundry on Sunday afternoons because of the dryer rumbling from above. You moved from room to room with soft steps, and she could tell when you’d have company over by pairs of footsteps clomping overhead. She almost thanked the landlord for how shittily the apartments were built. She was fortunate that sound traveled so well across the poorly insulated walls.

Ellie loved how predictable you became. On weekdays she knew you got up to shower at 6:30 and left at 7:30. One day she had trailed behind you as you drove to work, wearing a baseball cap with the brim pulled low and dark sunglasses, hoping you hadn’t recognized her having seen her climbing in and out of her truck in the parking lot.

You usually left work around five, but occasionally you would surprise her by sneaking out a few minutes early. If she stayed a few car lengths and timed it right, she could park and get to the stairwell so she could walk up behind you. Days you wore a skirt were Ellie’s favorite—especially the windy ones. Three steps behind she could see up your skirt, watching your ass bounce and your panties ride up as you made your way up to your apartment. One time she was lucky enough to have her phone out and take a picture. A video would be even better, but she could never get the angle right without being too obvious. She still liked when you wore pants, though. Tight jeans clung to your ass and leggings could ride up between your ass cheeks and your pussy lips if they were thin enough.

The apartment complex had a pool, and in the warm seasons on Sunday mornings you would swim laps. Since Ellie’s balcony was close enough to view the pool, sitting outside and watching you swim became part of her morning routine too.

She would roll and light a joint as you shed your cover-up, putting your hair into a bun and slowly stepping in. If it were quiet enough and she listened closely, she could hear you gasp as you dipped into the cold water. When you were tired enough from swimming, Ellie would perk up as you stepped out. The water dripping down your body, between your breasts, down your spine, between your legs… When you climbed out fast enough she could see your tits bounce in the cups of your swimsuit top.

When sun was down and the nights drew to a close, your apartment was quiet. No more footsteps, water running, or the hum of the TV. Tonight was an exception to the usual peaceful silence.

Drifting to sleep late at night, Ellie’s eyes snapped open as she heard buzzing. It was quiet, so for a second she thought maybe she’d gotten a text, or someone was calling her. She had no messages and the buzzing was going on for far too long to be a phone call. Sitting up, Ellie looked at the ceiling. Your bedroom would be above hers, right? Your bed could even be directly above hers. With how small it was there weren’t many places to put it without blocking the door to the closet or the hallway, so it would just make sense.

Ellie stumbled to her feet on the mattress, and the buzz was a little closer as she was closer to the ceiling. She flinched as she heard the springs of your mattress squeak. Were you alone? Ellie thought she only heard your footsteps, and there were no humming voices at any point throughout the evening. You must be all alone up there.

Ellie could almost picture it, you clutching a vibrating wand in your shaking hands as you writhe on the mattress. She wished she were there to see it. You would tremble under her hands as they gripped your legs and held the vibrator to your clit. You would squeal and beg as she clicked the button on the wand up one setting higher. Ellie would press the head of the wand harder on your clit, your wet pussy obscenely squelching and buzzing as your eyes rolled back in your head and your jaw dropped.

All too soon, the buzzing coming from upstairs stopped. Ellie was pulled from her reverie by the silence, unsure if the cries she heard were real or imagined. Ellie repeated them in her mind as her hand remained stuck in her boxers, coming with your name on her tongue. That night she fell asleep quickly, hoping that the buzzing sound would come back soon.

…

Pt two if you want it 👉👈

[fridgemissionmaster]

Barbatos x Reader Drabble/Ficlet: A Butler’s Excuses

In which Barbatos finds reasons to spend time with you.

Word Count: 1111

Warnings: N/A

AN: I really should get back into tap dancing, it's been too long.

@om-adventcalendar

You didn’t even need to look at your phone to know what that sound was, Lucifer reminding you dinner would be ready soon and that you needed to get back. Diavolo and Barbatos too knew that sound all too well, the merry making and chatter from before instantly silenced.

“Perhaps you could stay for dinner? Or the night! We have yet to discuss your report on the current exchange program.” The young prince’s smile was already beaming at his own suggestion, his butler nodding in silent approval.

You thought for a moment, ultimately sighing. “We already used that excuse last time, if we keep pushing this he’ll start coming over to pick me up himself or sit in on these things to make sure we ACTUALLY talk about that.”

These visits to the palace had become one of your favorite things upon your return to the Devildom. With how the exchange program was handled the first time you honestly didn’t think Diavolo took it at all seriously but it seemed since then the prince had decided to switch up his strategy, now having you drop by regularly to discuss you. How your time here has been, if there was anything to be improved on, anything demons don’t know about humans that they might need to, like how humans get depressed without sunlight and need special lamps so the eternal night of the Devildom wouldn’t make them miserable. However usually they end up being about ‘you’ as an individual and not ‘you’ humans.

To Diavolo’s disappointment Barbatos already began cleaning away the tea set and tiered biscuit tray.

After thanking them for tea and treats you quickly took your leave, little D no. two by your side to escort you out.

Even putting aside the lovely company these visits were worth it just for the walk. Upon getting through the front gates you rarely ever went through the palace itself, instead the gardens to get to your meeting place that gazebo beside the shimmering lake.

One could so easily get lost in the gardens at times the place more like a forest, or sprawling botanical garden. Dirt and cobblestone paths marked the way, a guide by your side just in case though you had long memorized it by now.

On occasion there was a surprise, like Barbatos off in the distance by the gates, an umbrella hanging off his arm.

“I shall escort you the rest of the way.”

“Oh, okay, thank you?”

The Devildom and the Human world may have many differences but at least one similarity they had was the weather and from what you could tell, it was rather clear out, a little windy but even if it did rain you should have had enough time to reach the House of Lamentation. Little D no. two too seemed confused but quickly scurried away upon understanding their duty was done.

And with that the pair of you left.

It was rather quiet for a Devildom… evening? Despite your time there your mind always wanted to think ‘night’ when referring to any time of ‘day’ in the place.

The distant buzz of city life could be heard but the sound you were focusing on was the tap, tap, tapping of Barbatos’ footfalls against the cobblestone road. Rhythmic and light, simple yet lovely.

They suddenly came to a stop, halting you in your tracks. With a pop the umbrella was opened and held above.

.

.

.

It was sprinkling.

“You didn’t have to get an umbrella for me just for this.”

“No, I did. It wouldn’t do for you to come down with a cold from your visit, the young lord would be so saddened by the thought.”

… What was that in his voice; the slight lit, the hint of playfulness on the tip of his tongue.

“Then I must inform him humans aren’t that fragile… in that respect at least.”

“Truly? Even so, it also wouldn’t do for you to return and be wet, that’d be a failing on my part.”

It was tough to gain a more animated expression from the man beside you, but you could easily see how he studied you, your quirked up brow and the giddy, mischievous smile pulling on your lips.

You took a step back out of the umbrella’s protection.

He took a step forward, a new smile on his face. The butler had many smiles, a neutral one, a polite one, a furious one, and now this new one you couldn’t recall seeing before.

You hopped back.

He hopped forward.

You slid to the side.

He slid to the side.

“Mc”

You could not tell the tone, if he was simply saying your name or questioning your actions.

You shuffled back, on the last step hitting your heel to the ground before kicking your foot up a little.

His foot slid forward before he hopped, landing on the toe of the other. He stood so close, just a hair’s width apart.

Sliding to the side he spun on toe before sliding his other foot out getting in front of you!

A small step, a strike of the toe to the ground before a strike with the heel, then a little hop, your back foot landing on the toe. Your partner did a larger leap, one foot sliding further back, maintaining that little distance.

Perhaps it was simply a reflection of the town’s lights on the shimmering stone but you could swear your partner’s eyes began to sparkle. You couldn’t repress giddy laughter as the pair of you continued to dance along, one always chasing after the other, never too far. The clacking of sole on wet stone, the light tinkle of water against the umbrella, and his quiet chuckle your music.

It was intriguing how his movements so differed from yours, something elegant, purposeful and natural in each of his movements, long strides, yours fast, short, bursts of step meant to tap along.

It was beautiful in his demon form, his tail trailing behind his steps almost like a ribbon. It too danced on occasion, lightly curling around you, making sure your differing styles didn’t accidentally take you too far apart.

Taking your hand you were spun around and taking his he was dragged into hops and heel brushes.

“AHEM!”

Lucifer stood there, arms crossed. “You’re late.”

When had you arrive at Lamentation’s front gate!?

Barbatos placed a hand on his chest, taking a little bow. “Mc thought to teach me a few human dance steps on the way here, it seems I got so absorbed in your lessons. I hope we may continue this soon.”

“O-of course! I’d love to!”