#oh god i forgot i used to repost art back in the day where it was “”acceptable“” to post it so long as you credited and linked the og

[amertsi]

That notes counter did psychic damage to me

[alrightberries]

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.�� .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

[littlewinter1917]

ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ

𝔸 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℤ𝕠𝕠

My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI. 🔞 Don’t repost my work anywhere.

Series Masterlist

Words: 8.7k

Pairing: Steve Roger x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Steve make the most out of the last days of summer and decide to visit the local zoo. But as fun and romantic as the activity is, you also have to face the fact that dating a well-known Super Soldier isn't always easy.

Warnings: It's pretty much just pure fluff, with the tiniest sparks of angst. Pet names (mostly Sweetheart & Angel) and some teasing. Maybe an undetected swearword or two.

If there are any warnings, that you think are missing, please don‘t hesitate to reach out and tell me, so I can add them accordingly.

A/N: This is my first time writing and sharing a story, so if you're reading this, I hope you enjoy!

“Sweetheart, are you ready yet?”

Steve calls out from the bedroom, hoping you’ll hear him while you’re getting ready a few doors down in the bathroom.

“Yes! I’m almost done!” you shout back, straightening your t-shirt and taking one last look in the mirror.

The excitement you feel is clearly written on your face, and you can’t help but let out a small squeal at the thought of all the animals you’ll be going to see and pet.

You are so caught up in your little daydream, that you don’t notice Steve’s approaching footsteps or the soft opening of the bathroom door.

With your mind still occupied, you turn around to leave the bathroom, only to be met with the sudden and unsuspected sight of Steve leaning casually against the door frame, smiling down at you lovingly.

“Good God, Steve!” you exclaim startled, clutching your hand to your chest, trying to calm down your now rapid heartbeat. Steve’s adoring gaze quickly turns into a more apologetic one, once he realizes that he accidentally scared you.

“Sorry Angel, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” he concedes, while gently pulling you closer and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Hm,‘s not your fault.” you whisper against them whilst playing with the soft strands of hair at the back of his neck. Steve just hums at that, before tightening his arms around you and gently kissing your shoulder.

“So, you’re ready to go?” he murmurs against your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You only manage to nod in approval, not wanting to disturb the little moment of tenderness that engulfs the two of you. But once Steve starts to draw soft patterns on your back, you can’t help but let out a small sigh of content, snuggling closer to his chest and basking in the feeling of his gentle embrace.

The moment is short-lived though, as Steve decides to break the otherwise comfortable silence. “We should get going soon,” he mumbles, voice low, as he gently untangles himself from you.

Even though you try not to, you let out a soft whine, voicing your displeasure at the loss of his touch, making Steve coo.

“You can get all the cuddles you want Sweetheart, when we’re back from our little trip.” A small huff escapes your lips before you demonstratively hold out your pinky finger to him.

The sight of your stubborn determination makes Steve laugh, and the warmth of its sound fills both the room and your heart, making you smile.

“I pinky promise that you can get all the cuddles you want, Sweetheart.” Steve adoringly whispers, intertwining your little fingers, before pulling you into him again, gently kissing your forehead.

Your hands instinctively grab and hold on to him, trying to get him closer, and your honest display of affection and longing for him makes his heart flutter.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he coos, “I thought you were excited about going to the zoo, hm?”

Oh god, the zoo!

You almost forgot about that completely, and by your wide-eyed reaction, Steve can clearly tell.

“So, you want to keep the penguins waiting, or… ?” he teases, and you playfully slap his side before reluctantly letting go and trying to move past him.

“You know, if you’d rather stay in today and have the zoo-date another time, we can always reschedule.” He says, his eyes searching yours, trying to communicate the same reassurance that his voice transports.

“No.” you chirp. The excitement from earlier is already back in your eyes, and you shake your head to emphasize your stand. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to keep the penguins waiting.” you add.

“Alright, then let’s get our things and get going. There is only so little time, and so many animals to see.”

“And plants!” you add enthusiastically, being almost equally excited about the small botanical garden that’s incorporated in the more tropical segment of the zoo.

“And the plants.” Steve agrees, while following you down the hallway, smiling.

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

While you were getting ready earlier, Steve had packed everything you two could possibly need into a big, sturdy backpack.

“I think we have everything.” Steve mumbles, more to himself than to you, while briefly going through its content again. “We have some sunscreen, sunglasses, water bottles and those sandwiches you helped me make, some snacks and fruits, money for the tickets, keys …”

He trails off, looking over the room once more, trying to think of anything he might have forgotten.

When he spots his baseball cap near the entrance, he speaks up again.

“Sweetheart, do you want to take a hat with you? The weather is supposed to get even hotter, and I don’t want you to get a heatstroke or something.”

“I think I’ll be fine, Stevie.” your voice is a little bit mumbled, since you’re currently kneeling on the ground, preoccupied with trying to tie up your sneakers.

“Alright! Well, I’ll be wearing mine, at least at the beginning …”

Steve doesn’t finish his sentence; he doesn’t need to – you already know what he is trying to say.

He’ll be wearing the cap not as a prevention for a possible heatstroke, but for the simple sake of at least some sense of anonymity, trying to lessen the chances of him being recognized.

It’s not like Steve hates the attention he often gets from the public. There are times when he is more than happy to stop for a quick photo or a handshake, but when he is out and about with you by his side, he does desire a certain sense of privacy, and so do you.

When you two first started dating, that was the hardest thing to get used to, and truth be told, you still struggle with it.

Obviously, you’d been aware of Steve’s public persona as Captain America, and the responsibility that the title entailed, long before you even started dating, but the visibility and public scrutiny that came with his occupation, was rather new to you.

Especially once the word got out, that the two of you were dating. Suddenly parts of the public interest that were initially focused on him also shifted on to you.

You used to joke, that if you’d get a dollar every time Steve and you get approached by people in public, you’d easily be able to compete with Tony’s net worth. And while you were obliviously exaggerating and making fun of the situation, Steve could also tell that it was taking somewhat of a toll on you.

To be fair, it wasn’t like you hated those encounters across the board. There were, and still are, a lot of times where Steve’s interactions with the public are nice to watch and take part of.

The number of times, for example, that random children would approach him, starstruck and starry-eyed, are as countless as they are endearing, which is to say, very - and, subsequently, many.

It always makes your heart gleam with a mixture of pride and joy when you get to witness those interactions.

You’re not quite sure if it is because Steve is naturally good with kids, or kids are naturally good with Steve, but each encounter is filled with a warmth and a gentleness, that makes your heart both melt and pop.

And so, you tend to stand there with your heart in a puddle, while Steve talks and engages with the children in such a carefree yet gentle way.

But there are also some encounters, that don’t spark as much joy.

Or none at all, if you’re being honest.

Those are usually the ones whose timing couldn’t be worse. Like getting approached while the two of you are having small romantic dates out in the park or in cozy coffee shops. Even your cute little trips to museums and art galleries once in a while aren’t spared from the casual interference of others.

There’s almost always someone, somewhere, shouting in both a mixture of disbelief and joy:“Is this Captain America?”

And then the heads start to turn, and the murmur starts, and your previous little date idea gets turned into a live meet-and-greet Captain America event.

And it sucks.

It’s not like you want to keep Steve all to yourself; it’s just that you don’t want to share him every single time you two go out in public together. Especially when it’s supposed to be a fun and romantic activity just between the two of you.

And so, because of that, Steve often tries to keep his recognizability somewhat more subtle and limited by wearing his baseball cap and some sunglasses, but there’s only so much that that supposed ‘transformation’ can do.

Tony once kindly offered that the department responsible for the Avengers suits and apparel could probably help, and come up with a more cohesive incognito look, but that didn’t work out too well either. Not for a lack of trying on their part, though.

You two had taken them up on that offer once, and they managed to turn Steve into someone so completely unrecognizable, that you almost walked past him when you’d come to pick him up.

Apart from his clothing, plaid trousers and a simple button-down shirt that emitted more the vibe of a hip history professor, the thing that threw you off the most was the 16 inches-long wig he was wearing. It made him look like Thor’s long-lost twin brother, and you could hardly take his appearance seriously.

When you finally managed to stop laughing, you pulled him into the living quarters of the compound, where the laughing continued, once everybody realized who they were looking at.

The Date to the planetarium that followed went great; not a single person recognized and approached the two of you. The only downside was that the date with Steve didn’t really feel like a date with Steve.

Apart from the reason that Steve’s long-haired wig made you feel like you were out and about with a beefier version of Jesus, rather than your treasured Super Soldier, the wig was also highly unpractical in a more tangible sense. Every time you turned to him and leaned in for a kiss, your hands and jewelry would easily get tangled up in his long strands of synthetic hair.

Neither of you were used to the hairy mess the Avenger’s apparel department provided you with – and it showed.

It did make for a fun date tough.

Steve was highly amused about the amount of double takes you had to do when you were looking for him.

You, on the other hand, had the time off your life once the two of you exited the planetarium, only to be greeted with a pleasant afternoon breeze, that took Steve – and his hair – by surprise. It looked like an unsuspected hair commercial in the making, and you almost tripped down the stairs laughing while trying to take a photo of Steve’s glorious mane in the wind.

All in all, it was a good time, but at the end of it, you both decided that it was neither worth the trouble nor a sustainable solution to your problem. And so, Steve traded his wig for his beloved baseball cap again, even if it heightened the possibility of him being recognized.

You knew that Steve was trying his best to give you some sense of normality in your experience of dating a super-famous Super Soldier, and you appreciated his efforts, even when they didn’t always work out.

Once you and Steve step outside of the Avenger’s Tower, you’re hit with both: The sudden brightness of the sun, and the common busyness and noise of New York City’s bustling streets.

One single ray of sunshine manages to find its way between the tall skyscrapers in front of you, making you squint. Instinctively you raise one hand in an attempt to shield your eyes from its blazing gaze.

Steve, who is already wearing his sunglasses, quickly gets out your pair for you and you gratefully take them. His attentiveness is something you’ll never get tired of; even when he sometimes has the tendency to dote over you, it’s rather endearing.

You make your way down the street. Hand in hand, because the craze of the city can otherwise easily separate the two of you.

Even without the frantic mass of people, that hastily bustles about the avenues, in a city that big, you will always seek out the shelter of your beloved Super Soldier, who still knows this place in a way you probably never will.

So, in an attempt to not get lost, or trampled, or abducted, your hand reaches out for his, and his hand does the same.

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

Steve navigates himself and you through the city like he’s done it a million times before, and it never fails to amaze you how good his sense of direction is. It’s something you’re obviously lacking, and Steve can’t help but teasingly bring it up every now and then.

This time around though, he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps talking about the little, newly opened Italian restaurant that you two just passed by.

“It looked really cozy and busy – that’s always a good sign, right? Maybe we can check it out this weekend.” Steve offers, while gently swinging your joined hands back and forth.

You hum in agreement, more focused on not getting jostled by the oncoming businessmen and -women.

Gripping his hand tighter, you curl up more into Steve’s side, seeking out the protection and safety of his tall statue.

Once Steve realizes what’s going on, he immediately pulls you close to him, wrapping his arm protectively around your smaller frame and making sure you’re okay.

“I can always give you a piggyback ride.” he offers, and you shake your head, laughing.

As inviting as that proposal sounds, the fear of the potential attention it might garner makes you decline his offer. You’d rather be subjected to the ongoing pushing and shoving of some careless pedestrians, than the unwanted attention and possibility of recognition.

“We’re nearly there, Sweetheart.” Steve gently encourages you, while keeping you as close to him as possible, leading you down the busy streets of New York.

You must have picked a good time to visit the zoo, because the line in front of the ticket booth is almost non-existent.

It doesn’t take long for it to be your turn, and Steve immediately takes charge, getting the tickets. The woman at the counter also hands him some pamphlets with certain attractions, and a small map, which he gratefully takes.

You softly tug on his arm, trying to get his attention, before pointing at the small bags with dry food, that are arranged on a shelf behind the vendor.

“Can we buy some of that food for the animals in the petting zoo?” you ask, eyes bright.

Steve instantly agrees, and the small squeal of joy that escapes your lips is like music to his ears. “There you go, Sweetheart.” he says, as he hands you your ticket and the small paper cone, filled with little pellets of dry food.

“Thanks, Stevie!” The way you beam up at him has his heart doing flips.

God, you’re adorable.

“So, where do you want to go first?” he asks, while looking down at the open map in his hands.

“The petting zoo!” you chime while clapping your hands in delight. You have to suppress the urge to just grab Steve's hand and drag him to the enclosure, so instead you softly bounce on the spot.

Looking up from his map, Steve’s eyes soften once he sees how you’re barely able to contain your excitement. It radiates off of you in a way that’s contagious.

Well, contagious to him anyway.

“Alright.” he approves, and that’s all the agreement you need, before sprinting into action, grabbing Steve’s hand, and tugging him along.

You only come to a brief halt at the doors of the enclosure, while you read the small signs that introduce some of the animals inside of it.

The petting zoo contains mostly goats, bunnies, guinea pigs and some piglets, but there are also two donkeys and one of them is called …

“Steve!” you joyfully exclaim.

“The donkey is named after you!”

The man in question furrows his brow, and you point him to the part on the metal sign, where the donkeys get introduced.

“See, Steve and Sally. Aww, he even looks a little bit like you!” you coo, looking at the small picture they provide next to the profile.

“I don’t quite see it.” Steve says dryly, and you huff.

“He even has similar interests to yours. It says here that he likes sunshine, early morning runs, pets behind his ears and bananas!

Biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing, you innocently look up at Steve, who regards you with a fake scowl.

“You’re being awfully bratty today, Angel.” he chides, yet his words don’t have any bite to them.

“Me? Never!” your fake indignation is riddled with the giggles you’re desperately trying to hold in. That mission fails completely though, once you read the Interesting Fact they provide next to each introduced animal.

“Oh my god, Steve!” you croak out between laughter. “He even tried to eat an American flag once. God, I love him already!”

Before Steve has the chance to reply, you’re dragging him into the enclosure. “Come on, let’s meet my newfound hero!”

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

The donkey is just as cute as in the picture, and even friendlier than you imagined. After you introduced yourself and Steve - you couldn’t help yourself from saying “Steve, meet Steve,” while pointing between the tall Super Soldier and the rather small pony-sized creature – you slowly started petting the animal.

The happy brays he lets out make you laugh softly, and your smile only widens once your eyes find Steve’s.

“Don’t you dare say he sounds like me too!” Steve exclaims, and that comment only fuels your giggles.

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” you say, while stroking the fur behind the donkey’s ears. “But you have to admit, he’s adorable!” you coo, before quickly adding: “Not as cute as you, of course, but it’s a close second.”

“Well, that’s certainly comforting to hear.” Steve retorts. “So, you’re not gonna leave me for one of those gray-haired fellas?”

“I already have my gray-haired fella at home, old man,” you counter, before whispering a small “almost.”

Steve still picks it up, and his reaction is instant. His strong hands reach out to you, playfully poking your sides.

“You take that back! You take that back right now!” he urges, laughing, as you try to squirm away from his grasp, the sweet sound of your giggles filling the air. Your antics only come to a halt once you’re breathlessly begging for mercy, and Steve pulls you in for a hug.

“You still have a lot of energy for a 103-year-old.” you whisper.

“Oh Sweetheart, you know, I can be relentless.” he counters, and you hum in agreement.

“You don’t actually look like a donkey.” you try to clarify. “It’s just that the donkey somehow looks like you.”

Before Steve can rekindle his attacks, you’re already apologizing again. “I’m joking! I’m joking!” you exclaim, as soon as you feel the tiniest brush of his fingertips poking your sides.

Hugging him closer once more, you whisper: “I’m sorry. I’m being mean. You’re still the prettiest man on the planet, and you always will be.”

Brushing your hands softly through his hair and gently cupping his cheek, you notice the small red tint that adorns them.

“Aww you’re blushing!” you quietly tease. “I guess I don’t call you pretty enough. I need to tell you that more, I think.” you observe.

His blush only deepens, and you coo again.

He really is the prettiest man alive. And the sweetest, and kindest, and bravest.

As you softly tell him all about your thoughts, his grip around you tightens, and he burrows his face in your neck.

“I love you so much.” you mumble against his shoulder, and even though you can’t see him right now, you know that he’s smiling.

“I love you too.” he whispers back, voice low, before gently kissing your forehead.

His lips lingers there for a moment before he speaks up again.

“I think we need to stop; there’s an older lady, who’s already giving us the stink-eye.”

“Oh, let her stare. If they look at you funny, you just look right back at them funny, that normally does the trick for me.”

“I’m not going to glare down a grandma!” Steve whispers exasperated.

“Well, you might not, but I certainly will, if she's making you uncomfortable.” you announce, and Steve just shakes his head, laughing.

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

After moving on from the donkeys, you spend some time with the goats. Even Steve has to admit that they are rather endearing.

“Maybe we should bring Bucky with us next time. You know how he still gushes about the goats he had in Wakanda. I’m sure he’d enjoy some time here.” you suggest, while feeding a small brown doeling.

She softly munches the food right out of the palm of your hand, and the feeling of her rough tongue on your skin makes you giggle.

“If we would bring Buck, that’s going to be your liability, because I’m pretty sure he would never leave the goat enclosure again.” Steve observes.

“Can’t really blame him. I might have my donkey at home, but those goats certainly have character.” you tease.

Instead of answering, Steve decides to just throw some pellets your way.

“Hey!” you whine playfully, before making a counter strike. When you don’t hit your target, Steve just grins at you cheekily.

It’s that boyish smile you love so much, and it fills your heart with a joy that’s carefree and content. It feels just like the soft sunrays that are currently caressing your skin: Warm, light, and golden.

Your thoughts are only interrupted once another pellet flies your way, barely missing your face.

“Hey!” you exclaim once more, laughing, yet Steve’s eyes turn instantly apologetic when he realizes he almost struck your pretty face. You quickly reassure him that it’s alright, before walking over to the rabbits and guinea pigs, patiently sitting down next to them.

Rather than just grabbing one, you wait for one of the timid rodents to approach you instead. A small – and presumably younger – bunny seems curious enough, as he hops your way, and you manage to coax him with some food and a very gentle voice. His fluffy fur is in an off-white color with gray specks and his floppy ears twitch every now and then.

“Hey little friend.” you whisper once his wiggly nose brushes your open palm. It takes some more coaxing before he starts eating out of it, and you beam at that development.

Steve watches the interaction with a soft, adoring gaze.

God, Wanda was right. He really is head over heels for you.

But then again, how could he not be.

There’s a gentleness and kindness in the way you approach the world, and the fact that you’ve chosen him out of all people to trust the most, fills his heart with an endless amount of pride and happiness, that’s hard to put into words.

You’ve come into his life like a whirlwind, turning everything upside down and taking over his heart by storm.

Without your knowing, you made all of his previous priorities flip, until you were the only and most important thing on his mind. You still are, of course, and Steve is sure that this is something that will never change.

You’re the one.

The one who’s voice and laughter he’ll never grow tired of hearing.

The one who he comes home to after a rough mission, taking up the biggest space in his bed and in his heart – and he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

You’re the most precious thing on the planet, and he’d burn it all down if he had to, just to keep you safe.

“Steve!” you softly call out to him, and his focus shifts back on you.

The small bunny is now sitting contently in your lap, while you’re sporting the proudest look.

“His fur is so soft!” you quietly mouth to him, and he smiles before making his way to you, gently kneeling down by your side. “Here! Feel!” you chirp, as you carefully guide his hands towards the small bunny.

“Do you think we could get some of those?” you carefully ask.

“Of course.” Steve agrees without really thinking - he doesn’t need to. If you want it, you’ll get it; no questions asked. He’ll even fight Tony on it if he has to, or anyone else for that matter.

“Really?” you beam.

“I pinky promise, Sweetheart.” he whispers before kissing the top of your head and standing back up. You follow suit, after carefully moving the bunny from your lap.

“Let’s just visit the piglets, and then we can move on to the bigger animals!” you proclaim, while reaching for Steve’s hand again, gently tugging him towards the small, baby pink piggies.

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

Once you’ve finished cooing over the small piglets while simultaneously feeding and petting them, you and Steve make your way back towards the regular path of the zoo.

Steve had just gotten out his map again, trying to visualize the vicinity, when you spot the panda enclosure.

Nice!

“Steve, do we have to consider the map? Can’t we just walk around and go wherever our curiosity takes us?” you ask.

“You mean, wherever your curiosity takes you.” Steve teases and you let out a small huff while folding your arms over your chest, defensively.

“Not true.” you whine, before adding: “I can’t help it if I’m younger and pick up more things, you know.”

“Uh-huh” Steve hums. “And patience is a virtue that …”

“I’ve never met once in my life.” you finish the sentence for him.

“That is not the quote I was going for, but it certainly rings true too.” Steve agrees, before folding his map up again. “Alright, so where’s your curiosity leading you to, this time.” he concedes with a warm smile and your eyes light up at that.

“Easy, this way!” you say, before grabbing his hand, dragging him along once more.

“Steve, look!” you exclaim, while excitedly pointing at the wild cat enclosure. There’s a tiger that’s currently taking a bath, and it completely seizes your attention.

At the risk of sounding like a total lovesick fool, Steve has to admit that he’s way more encaptured by your endearing reactions to everything, than the actual attractions and animals themselves.

You two already visited the panda and bear enclosure, looked at some monkeys, zebras, hippos, and foxes, and now you’re leading him towards the area with the wildcats.

Lynx, lions, pumas, cheetahs, and some tigers are what’s initially advertised; still, he’s barely able to focus on that.

With your hands closely intertwined, and your soft voice that calls out to him, his attention has a hard time staying away from you.

You’re especially excited by the cheetahs, and you enthusiastically tell him all the facts you know about them.

How they’re incredibly fast and powerful, yet often also anxious and shy. You tell him how some of the cheetahs living in captivity often need emotional support dogs, to help them cope with their high levels of stress.

They’re the true scaredy cat-cats.

After your ramblings about the wildcats, you start gushing over their emotional support dogs. “They must be so proud!” you tell him. “Imagine being a dog, who ends up working with those cheetahs. How badass it that? Like a mouse who’s a therapist for a housecat, or a sparrow that takes care of an alligator…”

Steve smiles at your excitement, while listening attentively to everything you’re saying.

How did he ever get this lucky?

But as your speech slowly comes to an end, another sound appears. It’s faint, but Steve’s Super Soldier hearing still picks it up. He’s heard it enough times to be able to identify it – It’s the sound of your tummy rumbling.

“Sweetheart, are you hungry?” he questions, and you look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Dammit, I had hoped you didn’t catch that.” you mumble embarrassed, and Steve laughs.

“How about we look for a more quiet space, where we can eat some of our sandwiches and snacks.” he proposes, and you agree.

This time, Steve takes your hand, leading the way.

After some searching, the two of you managed to find a little bench, shaded by a rather sturdy oak. The tree doesn’t just shield you from the blazing sun, but also from the curious gaze of others.

It’s a romantic little space, as you look out onto a small park area, not too far off from the peacock enclosure. You’d stopped there briefly, fascinated by their colorful display of shimmering feathers, before moving on.

And now, you're sitting here, next to Steve, eating your little sandwich and sharing some small snacks. It's calm and peacefully quiet, apart from some faint bird-chirping and the remote sound of children’s laughter, carried over to you by a soft summer breeze.

“This was such a lovely idea, Steve.” you comment quietly once you’ve finished your sandwich.

The man in question smiles at that. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Angel.”

You hum in agreement, before popping some fresh berries into your mouth.

The satisfied sigh you let out is making Steve laugh. “Are those berries that good?” he questions playfully.

“No, but the view right now is to die for.” you say, while locking eyes with him.

“Hm, I guess you’re right. This little park area certainly has some flair.” Steve agrees, and if it wasn’t for the blueberries in your hand, you’d face-palm right now.

“I’m not taking about the park, Steve.” you clarify, while giving him a pointed look, and he blushes.

“Oh, I see … “ he mumbles, red-tinted embarrassment tainting his cheeks and migrating up to his ears. Who knew a Super Soldier could get that flustered – and look so endearing while doing it.

You weren’t lying though – even with Steve just sitting there, wearing a light gray t-shirt and some washed-out jeans, he looks like a god; Completely out of this world.

And it’s not just his sturdy arms and muscles.

It’s in the way his kind eyes light up, framed by those rich eyelashes.

It’s in the way he looks at you; looks at the world with such benevolence, such compassion, even after everything he’s been through.

Maybe it’s also in the way that those small rays of sunlight, currently shining through the tree crown, illuminate his skin, giving him a golden glow.

But whatever the reason may be, he certainly looks good. Especially, when he’s blushing like that, you think, smiling.

Once you two finished your small lunch, you’re eager to get back to the animals.

The giraffes and elephants are next, followed by the penguins and some wombats.

You and Steve have also established a small game by now.

One of you steps up to the informational sign of the enclosure first and reads it, before letting the other person guess what the Interesting Fact about the animal is.

It’s currently Steve’s turn at guessing, as you two are standing in front of the flamingo area.

“Okay!” you chime, as you turn away from the metal sign, focusing back on Steve. Your eyes are sparkling with excitement, letting Steve know that this fact is going to be good.

“So, flamingos are known for their pink color and dorky looks, but there is something else that makes this animal quite badass. What could that possibly be?” you challenge Steve gleefully.

He ponders your question for a moment, looking over at the pink birds. “Hm, maybe they can stand on one leg for over 24 hours.” he contemplates.

“Is that your final answer?” you question, and the playful glimmer in your eyes lets him already know that he’s wrong.

Still, he stays with his entry and nods.

“Well, that is incorrect!” you announce. “Or at least, that’s not the fact they have written down.” you clarify.

“Okay, I’ll give you three options instead, and only one of them is the correct one.” you offer.

“So, once more, what makes the flamingo so badass? Is it a) they all have pink belts in karate; b) they can drink boiling water; or is it c) they can hold their breath for half an hour when diving for food.” you question, expectantly looking at Steve, who’s scratching his head, laughing.

“Well, it’s either b or c, but they both sound so unbelievable, I might as well go with answer a.” He jokes.

“Sir, I need an answer from you now, the time is running up.” you playfully chide and it’s making him laugh even more.

“Alright, show host, you can log in answer b for me.”

“B? Are you sure?” Steve just nods, and it makes your smile grow wider.

“Well, contestant, you won’t believe me when I say this, but your answer is …. ding, ding, ding – correct!” you exclaim excited, while wrapping your arms around his neck

“Wait, really?” Steve looks at you, dumbfounded. “Uh-huh. Flamingos can apparently drink boiling water.” you reiterate, before pulling him closer.

“Congratulations, soldier, you’ve won the main price!” you whisper against his lips before softly kissing him, and the sweet action makes Steve smile into the kiss, as his heart melts in the blazing sun.

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

Moving from enclosure to enclosure, your little game continues. There are wolves, deer, beavers, and burrowing owls, and each stop at the gates is filled with your playful antics and shared laughter.

You only come to a short pause, once you notice a small ice cream parlor in the distance, and it doesn’t take much convincing to get Steve to go there with you.

Actually, it doesn’t take any convincing at all.

The shop is small and features only a select number of ice cream flavors. You order 3 scoops each, before happily making your way over to the American bison enclosure.

The area is less crowded and actually quite peaceful. The scenery of the meadow with the occasional grazing bull emitting a sense of tranquility.

While sharing your ice cream, you two watch these seemingly serene creatures, who are just standing there, munching on grass, and lazily gazing at the landscape around them.

There’s a timelessness to them, you think. The way they just stand there, unbothered, like they’ve seen it all.

And maybe they have.

Steve gently pulls you out of your thoughts, when he offers you his last bit of cherry ice cream, holding out his cone to you. You gratefully take him up on his offer, while simultaneously holding your cone out for him.

Sharing is caring after all.

Once your ice cream is done, you and Steve continue sitting there, just talking until Steve suddenly leans closer.

He gently brushes some lingering ice-cream stains from the corner of your mouth with his thumb before licking it off. He keeps his eyes locked on you, and the action leaves your cheeks feeling heated, and your heartrate in a frenzy.

“Two can play this game, Angel.” Steve whispers, giving you a knowing smile.

You let out a small whine, before burrowing your face in his chest, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Steve just coos at your flustered state.

“Steve, stop. You’re giving me heart palpitations,” you mumble into his chest.

“No can do, Sweetheart. It’s only fair that you get a taste of your own medicine.”

You bite back your reply to that; otherwise, you two might end up doing something entirely different.

Unaware of the questionable thoughts in your head; Steve changes the topic, reminding you of the activities you still have planned.

“Do you want to go to the meerkat and prairie dog enclosure, now? Their feeding should start soon.”

You’re still curled up into his chest, basking in the feeling of his strong embrace, and the gentle smell of his cologne. “Can we just stay here a little longer.” you request, voice mumbled, and soft.

Steve lets out a small laugh, that makes his chest rumble and vibrate. “Of course, if that’s what you prefer. You just sounded so excited earlier when you heard about the public feeding.” Steve tries to clarify, making sure that’s what you really want.

Steve’s right. When he told you about the attraction earlier, you could barely contain your excitement at the idea of watching the small animals nibble on some food. But in that very moment, you didn’t really think things through.

It was only sometime later, when your excitement had cooled down a bit, that you realized that this endeavor might not be the best idea.

There’s obviously going to be a crowd watching the spectacle, and those are something to avoid when you’re with your beloved Super Soldier. The chances of getting recognized there, are just a bit too high, yet you’re hesitant to tell those thoughts to Steve.

You don’t want him to feel bad, and you know that he’ll try to convince you that it’s no big deal. You already feel selfish for feeling so protective of your relationship, and the fear that he might think you’re overreacting lingers in your mind, even though he has never given you a reason to do so.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? You’re being awfully quiet right now.” Steve pries. He can tell something is wrong; he just knows you too damn well.

“Nothing!” you chirp, but the sound is off. It’s too high and anxious.

“Angel.” his tone is stern.

Steve doesn’t often use his Captain America voice with you, but when he does, it works every time.

Just like now.

Playing with the fabric of his gray t-shirt and looking anywhere but his eyes, you quietly mumble: “There’s going to be lots of people, Steve. Lots of people to recognize you…”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he knows what you’re getting at, and it makes his heart twist in guilt.

“You know, we can still …”

“No, Steve,” you interrupt him. “We can’t, and I don’t want to. This day has been nothing, but a dream come true. We haven’t been approached once, and I’d like to keep it that way. If I have to sacrifice a meerkat feeding for that, I’ll happily do it.” You state, and Steve sighs.

“I’m sorry, Angel.” he whispers, voice low and tainted with regret. “Maybe you could go there by yourself, while I stay somewhere in the background?” he offers, but you just shake your head.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’d rather see all the other animals with you, then one meerkat feeding without you.”

He smiles at that, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m still sorry about this.” he mutters, guilt clear in his voice. You sigh. That’s exactly what you were trying to avoid.

“Steve,” you whisper, gently cupping his cheek, making him look at you. “This isn’t your fault. Stop feeling sorry about something that you have no control over, whatsoever. If anything, I’m sorry for being so sensitive about this.” you state.

“No, you have every right to be!” Steve defends, and the conviction in his eyes makes some of your worry ease away.

“Well, if I’m not allowed to feel guilty about that, neither are you.” you assert matter-of-factly, and this time the smile that adorns Steve’s face reaches his bright blue eyes.

“Alright, deal.” he affirms, before taking your hand, sweeping you up from your seat. “Let’s continue. There’s still a lot to explore.”

You’re about to walk into the reptile house when you spot one more open enclosure.

“Oh my God Steve, look!” you call out, while pointing at one of the llamas. “Aww, he looks just like Kuzco!” you observe, and it makes Steve frown in confusion.

“Sweetheart, that’s a rude thing to say about someone.” he softly chides, and you give him a puzzled look.

“What? Are you telling me you don’t know who Kuzco is?” you ask, dumbfounded, and Steve just shakes his head.

“Is he a work friend of yours? I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned someone with that name?" he questions, brows still furrowed in confusion.

“Steve!” you laugh, “have you not seen The Emperor’s New Groove?”

“No, I don’t think I have.” he confesses, and you look at him in disbelief.

“Oh my God! I thought Tony introduced you to the best works of this century’s cinema.”

“Yes, but I don’t remember a movie named like that.”

“This is outrageous. I can’t believe you’ve never seen this masterpiece! We’ll have to change that once we’re home!” you proclaim playfully, before taking his hand and walking towards the reptile house.

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

Stepping into the building, you’re immediately greeted by a sudden temperature drop.

The rooms are a lot darker and cooler then the outside premise, and you can’t help but shiver as goosebumps form on your skin.

Instinctively, you pull Steve closer, grabbing his hand tighter.

The animals that follow vary from adorable to absolutely frightening. The small turtles and geckos make you coo, but the bigger lizards and snakes already sport a more intimidating look.

There are boas, pythons, and mambas, and you have to remind yourself that you’re protected by both the Plexiglas as well as your trusted Super Soldier.

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

Once you’ve finished exploring every room, you make your way to the small botanical garden. Its atmosphere stands in stark contrast to that of the dark reptile house.

There are colorful flowers and bright green plants and palm trees.

There’s light coming through the ceiling, illuminating the stone path before you, and the temperature is warmer and a little bit more humid.

After walking through the vicinity, hand in hand, the two of you spot a small, secluded bench. It’s placed next to a little pond, and a small bush of plumerias.

Sitting down, you sigh in content as you breathe in the sweet smell of the little white and yellow flowers. Steve gets out some left-over fruits, and you share a second, small meal. You can hear the soft splatter of water in the background, and it’s as relaxing as can be.

Looking at the man in front of you adoringly, your expression falters when you see the small furrow etched between his brows. He’s thinking about something, and it’s not a pleasant thought.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, having learned the small signs of worry that sometimes cloud the face of your beautiful man.

Steve just sighs, before pulling you closer. So close, you might as well just sit in his lap.

“Was just thinking.” he mumbles, voice low, and still preoccupied with whatever’s going through his mind right now. “About?” you inquire, and the silence that follows makes you sigh in return.

“Steve, we talked about this. Don’t shut me out.” you whisper, knowing that your beloved soldier still has a tendency to keep his worries hidden from your view, trying not to burden you with it.

“I was thinking about the meerkat-thing.” he says, and you groan.

“No, hear me out, Sweetheart,” he continues. “You deserve the world, you truly do, and it pains me to know that everywhere we go, you have to sacrifice something, just because you’re with me. The meerkat-thing is just one of the many examples that reiterate that.”

“Okay,” you assess slowly, “what are you trying to say?” you carefully ask.

“I don’t know.” he whispers.

“I just keep thinking that you have to sacrifice so much, just in order to be with me. I wish I could give you more than that. I wish I could take you out on dates without us having to worry about being recognized, approached and disturbed.”

He looks at you with such turmoil and pain in his eyes, it makes your heart clench and curl up into a ball and cry.

“Oh, Stevie.” you murmur, before gently cupping his face and straddling his lap.

“Steve honey, listen. This whole getting-approached-by-strangers-thing sucks; I’m not gonna lie about that, but do you know what would suck a million times more? Not having you in my life! I could live without going out on anymore dates for the rest of my days, but do you know what I cannot live without? You!” you declare passionately, while looking into Steve’s eyes, which are somewhat glossy.

“Sweetheart.” he mumbles, voice thick with emotions, and you just pull him closer, nuzzling your face into the side of his neck.

“I love you, Steve. I love you even when we’re surrounded by what feels like hundreds of people, who all want a piece of you, and take over our dates.”

You feel a light wetness at the nape of your neck, and you gently brush your hand through Steve’s hair. Blinking away your own tears, you make a soft shushing sound, trying to calm him down.

“I love you. Don’t ever doubt me on that!” you whisper softly, and you feel Steve nod against your skin before whispering a small, timid “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I love you, and as long as you love me back, that’s all I need. That’s enough for me.” you try to clarify, before gently adding: “I know you feel a close kinship and obligation towards people, and you’re too polite to call them out when they approach us at the worst possible timing, but you’re allowed to tell some people off. The shield might be public property, Steve, but you aren’t. You’re allowed to have boundaries too.”

Your kind words fill Steve with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and it spreads on his face in the form of a soft smile. The love he feels for you keeps blooming and expanding, like the fragrant flowers growing all around you.

He’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to put it into words just how much you mean to him exactly, but he knows that he’ll try his damn best to show you every single day.

He hopes that that’s enough, hopes that it’s good enough for you. Losing you would be worse than dying, he’s sure of that. But all he manages to mumble out is a soft: “I love you so much.”

His words and voice are filled with such honesty, such devotion and conviction, you fear your heart might pound straight out of your chest, and into his lap.

“I know,” you whisper. “I love you just as much!”

He hums in content, and the silence that follows is the most comfortable silence you’ve ever experienced.

The two of you stay there, curled up in each other’s embrace, basking in one of the best feelings ever. Loving and feeling loved.

🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋 🍋

You’re not sure how much time has passed, when Steve speaks up again, but the sun is slowly starting to set, and it fills the garden with a golden glow.

“You’re ready to go home, Sweetheart?” he questions softly, voice full of affection.

No. You just want to stay in his loving embrace forever, but instead of articulating that, you let out a small whine, while shaking your head demonstratively.

The laugh that rumbles out of Steve’s chest is warm and hearty, and he softly smiles down at you.

“Come on.” he coaxes.

There’s something he’s sure he can beckon you with.

“I think they have a small souvenir shop near the exit with lots of stuffed animals.” he offers, and it makes you look up at him, wide-eyed and excited.

Gotcha. Steve thinks, a satisfied smile on his lips. The promise of stuffed animals works every time.

You slowly untangle yourself from him, before standing up and taking his hand.

“What are you waiting for, old man.” You playfully provoke him while he’s adjusting his backpack.

“Careful Sweetheart, or I might accidentally lose you in the middle of New York.” he says, yet you know it’s an empty threat. He would never even dream of doing something like that, not in a million years.

“Don’t underestimate the grasp I have on you.” you joke, referring to the way you’d normally cling to his arm and hand, but Steve thinks about how true those words are in a broader sense.

How you have the strongest possible grasp on his heart, in the gentlest way.

Unaware of his adoring thoughts, you drag him to the exit of the botanical garden, and he watches you with the warmest smile.

Once you step out of the garden your eyes instantly find, and fixate on the small souvenir shop, walking straight towards it.

The place is spacious and there are a couple of kids running around, shoving stuffed animals in their parents faces. The selection of stuffies is broad, but you already know what you want.

Steve thinks you’ll be going over to the cheetahs, yet he finds himself surprised, when he watches you walk towards… the donkeys?

He observes you carefully picking up a medium-sized stuffie and clutching it tightly to your chest, a satisfied smile on your lips.

“Stevie! Look!” you exclaim, as you turn your attention to him, holding the stuffie up proudly.

Little did you know, he was already looking at you the whole time.

Eyes soft and smile warm.

“Sweetheart, are you sure? Don’t you want something more… exciting?” he questions, as he points to the array of wild cats and panda bears.

“Nope!” you chirp, the look of content on your face clear as day.

He always wants to see you like this - happy, content, satisfied.

“Wait, Stevie! You should get one too!” you exclaim when you see him slowly make his way toward the checkout.

“The donkey will remind me of you when you’re gone on missions, but you need a stuffie that reminds you of me, too!”

“Sweetheart, you’re in the back of my mind 24/7. I don’t need a …”

“Not the point.” you interrupt him.

“You occupy my mind almost all the time as well, but it’s nice to have something tangible to remind you and to keep close sometimes.”

“Alright.” Steve concedes, before looking at the countless shelves of stuffed animals.

Which one should he even pick?

He thinks back to your interactions earlier, thinks about how soft you looked, with that small bunny comfortably sitting in your lap.

He thinks about how excited you were, when you told him everything you knew about cheetahs, eyes sparkling bright.

He thinks about how softly you’d kissed him at the flamingo enclosure, and how serene you looked while you were watching the American bisons - a dreamy look on your face, and ice cream in hand.

God, is picking your own stuffie always that hard?

His eyes continue to wander along the shelves when he spots it.

There’s a medium-sized cheetah stuffie wearing sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt with little plumerias printed on it.

That’s you.

Cool, adorable, and with a questionable fashion sense.

Thinking back at how you were holding him close in the botanical garden, the sight of the small flowers instantly fills him with the memories of your comforting words and touch.

That’s the one.

Steve makes his way over to the stuffed animal, and it’s even softer than he’d imagined.

“Oh! It’s adorable!” you coo when you see his choice, and Steve smiles.

That’s the one.

He thinks, as he watches you.

The one, who has complete reign over his heart.

You made yourself quite at home in there, filled it with your sweet laughter and your little smiles, the softness of your touch and the kindness in your eyes.

He keeps all these memories of you safely tugged away, underneath his rib cage, in that little treasure chest he calls his heart.

You’re both, his most prized possession, and the strong protector that watches over it all.

The guardian angel of his heart.

“Steve!” you call out to him, from the checkout.

“They say they have a 10 % senior discount for people over 60! Come over here, and figure this out, please!”

It makes him laugh, and there’s only one thought in his mind:

God, how he adores you.

---------------------------------------------

Ahhh, that's it! Thanks you so much for reading!

[franeridart]

Anon said: Do you have any more of the comics where Kiri's cat gets into Bakugo's apartment?? B being a dumbass is adorable hrnfjf

I don’t, sorry!! But the very amazing extremely skilled chonideno wrote a whole wonderful fic on it, so you can read that if you want more!! I still can’t believe she did that for me ily mag ;;;

Anon said: kirishima with......... a braid

Honestly the best thought horikoshi should get on that already 🙏

Anon said: i think... that bakugo should give kirishima a sleeby nose smooch..... as a treat.........

Anon said: hello it is i, sleeby nose kiss anon, and i want to say that kiri should also get to wear bakugo's sweatshirt. as a treat. i think he deserves it.

I think kirishima deserves anything and everything in the world and then some so honestly yes, bakugou should absolutely do that! It’d be very soft and it’d make me very happy

Anon said: your blog is a kirishima fucking goldmine thank you for your service in these dark ass times

I’m very glad you enjoy my indulging myself for the past 4+ years hahahaha the more kirishima there is in the world the better, that’s for sure 💕

Anon said: WHAT is your drawing process please reveal your secrets I am b e g g i n g you

It’s nothing complicated, honestly! I sketch out a very rough idea of what I want to draw, then line it as loosely and smoothly as I can manage, add flat colors on another layer, shadows on a multiply layer clipped on the flats one, and then adjust the light/intesity of the colors with a airbrush tool on an overlay layer - it’s really the simplest process known to human artist hahaha I posted a step by step on my patreon at some point, but maybe one day I’ll find a way to make a process video and show you guys how I do it.................... maybe if I’ll ever get to buy an ipad, that’d make my life easier

Anon said: OH MY GODYOUR VIGILANTE AU JUST-- HSJXJDJDJS THESE IDIOTS

So very glad people are still finding and liking that one! I had fun for the little it lasted, it was a very self-indulgent au haha

Anon said: Your art is honeslty the only thing keeping me going atm cause I'm going through a tough time rn and your kiribaku art just 🥰🥰🥰 also what program do you use?? I've cycled through so many and I cannot for the life of me find a good one

Thank you so much! I use easy pain tool sai, which is the easiest, most simple program I could find since I’m easily overwhelmed by too complicated things lol it’s got its shortcomings but it works perfectly for the little I have to do :D

Anon said: so i, like, keep going back and reading and re-reading that really long kiribaku comic (the one where kiri won't let baku kiss him) and everything about it makes me happy!! like, your art is already such a delight to look at but you also write them so well and it makes my heart feel all bright and happy and that comic feels like a culmination of all of that and i just feel like '!!!!!!!' everytime

Oh god I nearly forgot about that one, I loved that comic! Had so much fun making it and it was so satisfying to post it 😭😭 I’m happy you still like it and go look at it!! feels very very good to know, thank you! ;;; <3

Anon said: you draw touches, like hugs and stuff, and remind me that i'm a bit touch-starved and i honestly can't say i regret it

Sorry I hope this means that you don’t regret looking at my art even if it reminds you of being touch-starved because I’m!!!! glad to hear that??? though I really hope you’ll get to be hugged soon, anon! ;;;;

Anon said:For some of your black/white art (lineart), do you mind if people color it with proper credit?I like to color manga panels, and I really like your art, so, along with crediting you, is it okay if I color your peices?

I’m not a hundred per cent opposed to it, but I’d prefer it if you could ask before doing so telling me specifically which piece we’re talking about! Cause there’s a couple I’d prefer didn’t get reposted in any form or way, after all ;;

Anon said: I was looking through the jujutsu kaisen tag and found you and looked through some of your recent art and I was about to follow you and then I realized I already followed you for your bnha stuff

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! glad to hear I could make you want to follow me twice over, then!!! 😁

Anon said: Reminder to drink water and relax, overworking yourself isn’t healthy and we all need time to wind down!

Anon thank you!!!!!!!! The same goes to you, take care of yourself!! <3

Anon said: you are the light by nine lashes has me feeling kiribaku feelings and i have not a single person around me who i can tell ;n;

OHHHHHHHHHHHHH I absolutely do know the feel, please feel free to come cry about them in my inbox whenever you’d like anon ( TT^TT)9

Anon said: Could you do a tutorial on lineart? Yours is so clean I’m jealous

It’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just that there’s very little to it I could actually make a tutorial about? I try to keep my sketches vague and simple to not trap myself in the need to make the line look exactly identical to the sketch, and I try to keep my lines as long and uninterrupted as possible, let my hand kind of go the way it feels most comfortable to it if that makes sense, and I use ctrl+z A Lot to be sure the line flows the way I want it to in the direction I want it to go, and that’s honestly all there is to it! It’s not really about technique as much as it is about letting yourself keep as loose and fast as possible while putting down the lines, I really have no idea how else to explain it I’m sorry m(._.)m

Anon said: Sorry if this is an overasked question, but... what are your pronouns? I don’t wanna misgender you -.-

she/her! and don’t worry, you asking is no bother :D

Anon said: can ppl send, like, random hcs or thoughts to you? not like, drawing requests, you don't take those i know, but just because?

Hell yeah, please do!! I love to hear thoughts and headcanons, it makes my own creativity itch to get to work!! 

[sm-entertain-me]

Room Service (M)

Contains: Nakamoto Yuta x (f) reader, adult language, smut, depictions of sex, love hotel (rabu hoteru), unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, facefucking, creampie, love hotel worker!Yuta, love hotel customer!reader, dom!Yuta, sub!reader.

Synopsis: Traveling all over Osaka led you to a peculiar looking hotel that you had never seen before. What you thought was a normal, upscale hotel turned into something more than you bargained for.

ALL OF MY WORK IS PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT LAWS. DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST ON OTHER SITES WITHOUT CONSENT FROM AUTHOR. COPYRIGHT SM-ENTERTAIN-ME (KELSEY), 2019

You had been exhausted from keeping up with your tour guide all day, constantly pulling your group over to the side to ramble on about the city’s culture, how his favorite sushi place was a little bit down the road, and talking about how his friends would go out and enjoy what the city had to offer them when everything went dark. Sure, you enjoyed the history part of it, but you really didn’t feel like listening anymore to his stories involving women and what he could make them do for over 10,000 yen....

Another sigh escaped your lips as you wandered the streets of Osaka, your eyes darting around to find some kind of hotel that didn’t seem to unsafe or too greasy. Osaka is a beautiful place filled with beautiful people and beautiful architecture, but you were convinced you were just on the wrong side of the tracks. That was, until you stumbled upon a peculiar looking building with modern-esque features, brightly lit red neon signs that showed off the Japanese characters, and bored no windows.

A little interesting, you thought to yourself as you walked through the frosted glass doors that opened to a large floor plan, decorated with sculptures, fancy fountains, and replicas of the finest art you had ever seen. Funny how the tour guide never once mentioned a place like this in Osaka. The building was absolutely beautiful and judging by the rates posted behind the large oak wood desk, it wasn’t too badly priced either.

The options they allowed at this establishment were pretty cheap considering the wonderful atmosphere, although you did find it a little weird that they offered rates for 1-3 hour “rests”. Whatever that meant. But still, you approached the wooden desk and came face to face with a well dressed employee with dark black hair that swept to one side, and a small smirk resting on his face as he greeted you, “Konbanwa.” (Good evening)

One good look at you and he realized very quickly you were a foreigner, so he decided to switch to a universally known language that almost everyone could speak: English. “My apologies ma’am, good evening. My name is John, but please call me Johnny, and I would like to welcome you on behalf of our own little rabu hoteru. How long are you looking to stay with us?” The employee behind the desk asked as his eyes grazed over your body momentarily, bringing himself to look back up at you and wait patiently for your answer. Rabu hoteru?

After a brisk conversation with the desk-keep, he finally gave you a key to your desired room and gave you instructions on how to get there. For one night, it only cost you about 10,000 yen as opposed to the other hotels in the area that would run you a pretty penny of at least 50,000. 

As you approached your room, you noticed how dimly lit the hallways were with a thin layer of smoke from a fog machine, hearing a low rumbling sound around the halls as well to drain out some... interesting sounds coming from the other rooms. To be fair, the rooms did seem pretty soundproof and who were you to judge someone else and their sexuality? Everyone needs a little break here and there.

Sighing to yourself, you sat on your bed that felt like a cloud and immediately sunk into the comforter. Groaning out softly, you gripped onto the pillow and brought it closer to your face, relishing in the cold feeling of the fabric on your face that nearly coaxed you to sleep until the absurd ring sequence of the phone sounded next to you. Another groan.

Picking up the high tech phone, you pressed the receiver to your lips as you asked into the phone, “Yes?”

“Ah, Y/N, I forgot to tell you something during our conversation,” A soothing voice rang out from the other end, dripping with sex as he spoke. Johnny. You shifted uncomfortably on the bed, pressing your thighs together as you waited for him to continue speaking since you simply couldn’t get enough of hearing his voice. “Don’t forget to use our top notch services. I guarantee they’ll make your experience that much more enjoyable.”

The emphasis of the last word in John’s sentence had you cocking a brow to yourself, trying to figure out what he meant by that. Enjoyable. After you said your goodbyes to the desk-keep, you set the receiver back on its hook and decided to take a look at the “top notch” services Johnny felt obligated to tell you about.

Reaching into your bedside table, you opened the wooden drawer to reveal a leather bound book that read “Holy Bible” in gold script, and then a smaller red book that had Japanese characters dancing across the cover. Luckily for you, there were words written in English underneath the characters to act as a formal translation so you could know just what you were requesting. As you were flipping through the calligraphy filled contents, you were taken aback by just what was in that book.

Descriptions of sexual activities littered the page, explaining in perfect detail what sexual activities could be bought with the right amount of Yen. The acts themselves were ordered by price, from least expensive to most expensive, depending on how much sexual activity would be going on and who would be giving it. They even offered both male and female companions that each came with a list of their own kinks and “difficulty ratings”. One star being for beginners whereas five stars were for more experienced lovers. You were about to slam the book shut and go to sleep when you stumbled upon a picture of him.

At the end of the “Companions” section, you were greeted with a picture of a man with reddish brown hair, obviously dyed that way, with a nicely chiseled jawline, wide eyes that exuded lust, and a perfectly taut smirk that mocked your very existence. He knew he was hot, and that’s probably why he has the highest going rate and the highest difficulty ranking of all of the people in the book. Nakamoto Yuta was his name, and by god he was gorgeous.

You finally succumbed to the “top notch services” the hotel had to offer, requesting to have Yuta as your companion and informing Johnny that you didn’t care what kind of service Yuta was willing to give you. 

“Are you sure you want Yuta to choose?” Johnny asked, the cockiness in his voice coming through perfectly clear. He knew what Yuta was capable of, which is why he’s the most expensive. He also knew that you had no idea what Yuta could do, but it was ultimately your decision in the end.

“Yes, Johnny. I’m sure I want Yuta to choose the service. I’m only in Osaka for a little bit and I would love to see what you guys have to offer. Money is not an issue for me,” You replied to your semi-concerned desk-keep who was typing away at the computer, making arrangements for the two of you. 

“Very well,” Johnny said after you had ultimately signed your death wish, finishing the typing on his computer and sitting back in his seat to review the arrangement with you. “One Heaven on Earth package with our famed Nakamoto Yuta. He should be coming to your room in about ten minutes, so please dress to impress. 100,000 yen will be charged to your room balance at the end of the service, thank you for choosing to use our services and we hope to see you again in the future... Oh, and good luck.”

Your heart raced as you ran to the bathroom of your living space, running your hand through your hair to make it seem a little more presentable. You then stripped yourself of a bra just to make the process go faster and made sure to change into your sleep shorts that offered a bit more skin to the room, opting to change your shirt into just a tank top. When you felt like you were ready, you sat on the edge of your bed and thought about just what was about to happen. Until there was a short sequence of knocks coming from the opposite side of your door.

Swallowing your last bit of pride, your hand gripped at the door knob and turned it slowly, opening the door to reveal a man that was slightly taller than you, that same reddish brown hair that was swept back in the most attractive fashion you could think of, and that signature smirk still on his lips. Yuta.

“Well hello, darling. I hear someone wants to use me as a companion for the night, is that right?” Yuta’s deep voice spilled out, sex lining every single syllable as his eyes drank in your appearance. Yuta’s eyes took a liking to the fact you weren’t wearing a bra as he could see your nipples standing erect against the flimsy fabric of your tank top, licking his lips at the sight. When he noticed you didn’t answer, he lunged forward and gripped he side of your neck, the crook of his hand resting along your jawline as he forced you to look up at him with an intense hunger in his eyes, “Answer me.”

“Y-Yes,” You breathed out hastily, your breath catching in your throat as your heart raced uncontrollably, losing yourself at Yuta’s simple touches along your neck. He had you right where he needed you and knew you were going to be the perfect sub for him, no doubt about it. You were putty in his hands, someone so willing to take his orders and act them accordingly. Someone to wreck properly.

When Yuta was satisfied with your answer, he smirked at your desperation as he leaned in and captured your lips on his, kissing you roughly. Upon impact, Yuta’s tongue fell into your mouth and played with yours, pushing his tongue flat against yours and tasting you completely as his grip on your throat increased. Yuta could feel your pulse racing against his hand as he continued to toy with you, kissing you with so much raw passion that it nearly took your breath away. But before you could enjoy yourself any further, Yuta pulled his lips off of yours, a small string of spit falling from your lips.

Yuta loved how desperate you look for him by simply kissing you that he couldn’t control himself as his hand dropped from your throat to your shoulder, looking at you with a fiery glare, “On your knees. Now. And don’t make me tell you again, babygirl.”

Nodding at his demands, you assumed the position by slinking down to your knees in front of Yuta. His hands slipped to his belt buckle and unfastened it at a painfully slow rate, him watching the way your eyes would widen at the bulge that pressed against the confines of his black slacks. He loved to watch you fall apart without even touching you.

“Just know,” Yuta spoke as he unzipped his slacks and hooked his thumbs in between the fabric of his briefs and his honeyed skin, looking down at you to have your eyes meet. “You can stop me at anytime. I’ve been known to get a little carried away.” Before you could even muster up an answer or a nod of your head, Yuta’s hand was on the back of your skull, fingers entwined with a bunch of your hair, and his cock was being shoved down your throat.

Upon entering your throat, you gagged around Yuta’s length that was now pushing its way down your throat, smacking against your uvula with no resistance. Yuta’s grip would get tighter the longer he went as his head was thrown back in pure ecstasy, his hands forcing you to choke around him as he had complete control over the pace he made you comply with. 

Through teary eyes, you managed to look up at Yuta, admiring the way his neck vein was surfacing against his skin and how his jaw was clenched tightly together to stop him from letting you know how good you were doing. In response to seeing him struggling to keep his composure as he throat fucked you harder, you hollowed your cheeks around him and gripped his thighs to keep you centered, moaning against the skin to feel his cock twitch in your throat. You even went as far as to reach up and grip his balls in your hands, but were quickly yanked away from him.

Confused, you looked up at Yuta to find out why he pulled out of you so quickly only to see a cocky look on his face, a smirk tugging at his lips again. Yuta chuckled as he reached down and grabbed your wrist rather harshly, pulling you up to your feet as he towered over you, “Careful princess, wouldn’t want to be punished... Would you?” 

You shook your head vigorously at his question, not wanting him to get any rougher since your throat was now burning from the abuse of Yuta shoving his cock into you repeatedly. Although you were pretty sure you were willing to give everything for Yuta to completely dominate you in ways you couldn’t even imagine, you would much rather be able to walk out of the hotel room instead of crawl.

“Jump,” Yuta demanded as he got rid of the rest of his pants that were pooling at his ankles, bending down in front of you to hook his arms underneath your ass in order to pick you up. You kindly obliged and jumped into his arms, Yuta smiling at you brightly before his lips latched onto the skin of your neck, trailing open mouth kisses to your collar bone and began to suck harshly. As Yuta turned your neck red with busted blood vessels, you keened for him, leaning into his figure as he began to walk to you to the bed while digging his teeth into your skin to hear you moan louder for him.

Your back hit the mattress shortly after, relaxing into the soft fabric while Yuta moved up on your neck to your earlobe, whispering in a sultry tone, “Time to show you what Heaven on Earth is really about...” Yuta pulled away from sucking languidly on your ear lobe to look down at you with hooded eyes, piercing into yours with a look that one would describe as pure desire, “I’m going to fucking wreck you.”

And wreck you Yuta did. There was never a moment when his nails weren’t digging into your hips or wrists if he decided to keep your wrists restricted while he fucked his way into your guts, curses flying from his mouth with every thrust. Sweat was coating both of your bodies as you cried out in pleasure your nails digging into his forearms as Yuta pinned you beneath him, rolling his hips harshly against your throbbing clit.

“Fu-Fuck Yuta!” You screamed, feeling yourself getting closer to your release as Yuta kissed down your neck, peppering the abused skin as the intensity of his strokes never faded. Yuta smirked against your skin as he gripped your ankles that were wound tightly around his waist, pulling them off of him and spreading you wide so he could fuck you harder and much deeper than before. 

With the new angle, Yuta’s cock could pierce into the deepest parts of your slick pussy, causing lewd squelching sounds to ring out through the whole room that only seemed to egg Yuta on. His grip on your ankles got tighter as he leaned forward, pushing your toes to the wall behind you as he completely buried himself inside of your seeping entrance, pulling out and looking at the thick sheen of your arousal coating his cock nicely.

Yuta continued to push your toes against the wall, leaning forward with each stroke to have his cock drag against the most pleasurable spots of your ever clenching walls, grunting with every thrust he forced on you. His grunts were low and short mixed with a few Japanese curse words, him throwing his head back and biting his lip to distract himself from bursting inside of you. The longer he fucked you at this angle, the more his resolve weakened. He needed you to cum before him.

As Yuta fucked you the hardest he’s ever fucked anyone before, he removed one of his hands from your ankle and wrapped it tightly around your throat, looking at you for a look of assurance. You simply nodded as your hand was placed on top of his, holding him there as he steadily applied more pressure to cut off your air supply in a euphoric way that had you arching up against him. The sensation of his groin rolling against your throbbing bundle of nerves, his cock burying deep inside of your walls to feel you completely, and the new act of restricting your airflow had you feeling too good for your own good. All that you remembered was you screaming out for Yuta, clawing at him to come closer to you as you let the wave of pleasure crash over you.

Yuta felt your walls clench tightly around his cock, sending him spiraling over his edge as thick ropes of cum could be felt deep within your pussy, Yuta moaning out as he completely emptied himself into you. Yuta seemed to sputter syllables that reflected your name in pure bliss as he let himself crash on top of you, the only feeling he could feel before passing out with you was the sensation of his cum struggling to stay inside of your pussy and began to leak on the sheets below you two.

When the two of you woke sometime after you had the best sex of your whole entire life, you looked at each other with fond eyes and bright smiles. Yuta was actually a funny guy when he wasn’t forced to act on his dominant persona for tips from his lovers, telling jokes and making you laugh to seem more comfortable with the whole idea of paying for sex in a love hotel. 

“This was probably the highlight of my whole trip,” You said as you two cuddled afterwards, laying your head on top of Yuta’s toned chest and playing with the peaks of his abs. 

Yuta shifted a little bit to give you a kiss on the top of your head, smiling against your scalp as you could feel him breathe in heavily like he was in a supreme state of relaxation with you, “I’m glad I was a part of it... I think I’m going to crash here with you tonight if it’s okay with you, you really wore me out.”

“And don’t worry about payment, I’ll have Johnny take it out of my pay. With a performance like the one you just gave me, I should be paying you.”

[dorky-arsene]

Day 6 - Demon

@shuakeweek​

Much like my Day 3 entry, this one’s going to be a fic as well, using the “Demon” half of the prompt. This one’s also gonna have an art attached to it, since I kinda went all out. -shrugs-

Like the last fic, this one’s probably best suited for a teen-rating. It also has slightly more cursing and like the last fic has some mild spoils for Persona 5.

(as for the art, do NOT repost it)

Goro frowned at his notes as he set up the cheap candles he’d picked up half an hour ago, trying his damnedest to make sure none of the candles ended up dumping wax on his cheap carpet. After all, it’d be a bitch to clean off the wax, and the company I’m renting this apartment from will probably want to take my damn soul if I so much as spilled a single drop of wax..

The stressed high-schooler sighed, brushed hair out of his face for the 20th time, and looked over his notes again. So.. here it says I need a sprig of mistletoe.. How inconvenient, I’ve got none, he thought to himself, mentally slapping himself. Goddamn it. Why did I forget to get that.. ugh... It’s literally key to his mythological lore, and yet my tired ass forgot it!

Guess I’ll have to use something else as a replacement, Goro thought to himself, having to brush yet more of his too-long hair out of his face again as he shook his head in self-disapproval. The best thing Goro could think of on a whim was, oddly, coffee beans, which were sitting innocently in his kitchen on the counter.

“...Can’t believe I’m using fucking coffee to commune with a supposed trickster god,” Goro groaned aloud, narrowing his eyes at the cheap bag of coffee beans before shaking his head again and getting off his knees to go get it. “This had better work properly or I swear I’m going to chew Mifune-san out for even suggesting this.. Uuuugh... I spent real money for this..”

He swiped the coffee beans off the counter, then a culinary torch he normally only used for attempting crepes, turning off the lights in his tiny kitchen after that. It left only the light coming out of the glass doors leading to the tiny, crappy balcony of his apartment, which wasn’t a lot of light to go off of considering it was April and sundown had already passed. Somehow, though, by a miracle Goro could see just well enough to tell where the candles were.

He had a mat to deposit the chalk dust and coffee beans safely without fucking up the carpet, and now all he had to do was light the 6 crappy candles and deposit everything. The candles went first, bathing the little cleared-out living room area in orange-golden light as more and more of them got lit up. Then he deposited the chalk dust, in a little plastic bag with a corner cut off, forming a circle with vaguely wing-like marks.

In it, he wrote down the characters he thought was supposed to spell out Loki’s name, also in the chalk dust. It seemed a little longer than it was supposed to, but.. Goro was admittedly too tired to try and look up the damn proper words at the moment. He wanted it over with.

The last part was, of course, putting down the coffee beans and injuring himself just enough to deposit blood. That, and according to his notes, he had to make some stupid vow-thing..

“Here we fucking go,” Goro said to himself, scooping up some of the smelly beans and dropping them in the middle, carefully so he didn’t undo the circle and mess up the spell. After brushing more light brown hair out of his face, Goro grabbed a sewing needle off the ground he’d placed earlier, jamming it into his palm with an angry hiss and holding it above the coffee bean offering. He didn’t want to watch this part, so he squeezed his eyes shut, reciting the lines he’d practiced at least what had to be a hundred times over the past week and a half.

God, did Goro’s stomach feel pretty stormy right now..

“I.. I am thou, thou a-art I..” Goro stuttered, feeling his blood dripping off his hand uncomfortably. “F-from the sea of my soul.. I summon you.. I.. I bear the strength of my soul..”

...Crap, what was the rest..?! Damn it, Goro, you’re flubbing it..! he thought briefly, before the rest clicked into place. The needle in his palm got loose, and he hesitantly let go of it, practically hearing it drop against the likely soaked coffee beans.

“U-uh..” he tried again, eventually getting the courage again to speak. “I bear the strength of my soul.. to ascertain all on my own. N-now come to me, Loki!”

Still with his eyes closed, Goro felt the atmosphere of the room change somehow, and what little light he saw seemed to change to a blue-ish color. Goro sensed a foreign warmth a bit where he’d set up his mat, and so he backed away, feeling himself shake as he fumbled for the black towel he’d gotten specifically for the communication attempt. Besides that, he’d used his main hand, his left hand, to do this, so it stung like a bitch the whole time as he awaited whatever result.

...Still, curiosity and a hint of fear struck the tired highschooler’s heart, so he opened one eye to take a peek. The coffee beans and blood had entirely disappeared, and the circle’s color was no longer boring cheap stone white, rather becoming a strangely attractive shade of red and glowing. The candles’ flames actually turned a stark blue, burning in both light and dark shades of it, and most noise had disappeared from the environment, save for Goro’s frightened breathing and the flare of the candles.

...Then, a rush of wind knocked Goro to his bottom, and just like that, a quasi-humanoid being appeared above him. Black feathers fluttered around Goro and on him and his floor, their source being half-feathered wings attached to the humanoid. He found himself gazing into the face of the being, with his eyes seeming to have golden-colored outsides and red irises, and the demon had a sharp, cunning smirk to go with the already distracting eyes.

Besides that, the demon appeared to have black, red-tipped hair that half-hid nubby horns, a dual set of two, one set gold and the other silver, and as for clothes, he seemed to have an armored vest of sorts with a bright red ribbon hung loosely over. He also wore semi-armored gloves, and thin pants with leg armor, with no shoes to speak of. It was a contrast, certainly, to Goro’s simple thrift store nightgown and pants, both of which were more of a mild stormy but light grey and nothing else, save for whatever chalk, wax and blood he’d gotten on himself in the past 10 minutes.

The dark-haired demon chuckled softly, his voice apparently no older than someone Goro’s age.. which felt really weird. Perhaps weirdly attractive, if Goro were being honest to his closeted heart.

“Oh my.. I seem to be a little off-course,” the teenaged demon spoke, floating in midair as if he’d done so his whole life. “It’s not a whole loss, I suppose.. What a cute summoner~.”

Goro felt his cheeks flush at the compliment (or flirt), and he tried to glare at the demon. “Uh, off-course? I’m pretty sure this was intentional on my end. Does the name “Loki” sound a bell?”

Quizzically, the demon’s thick eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head, his smirk fading into a thin line.

“Loki..? What’re you on about? I’m called Satanael, and I’m as far from a Norse god as can be. A trickster, when I feel like it, but I’m more of a rebel than anything,” the demon introduced, stretching out his arms and smiling. “I can see you wrote my name instead of the intended one.. That’s probably contributing to me being off-course and all.”

Goro looked where Satanael had pointed out, and upon re-reading the kanji the summoning circle currently produced.. It struck Goro that it was, indeed, the wrong goddamn name.

“Fuck my life,” the brunette responded, facepalming. “Now I’m stuck with you, I guess.. First I forget the damned mistletoe and now it turns out I wrote the most incorrect thing of INCORRECT THINGS--”

Satanael seemed to be sweating nervously upon hearing Goro berate himself, and he gently placed a hand on the tired teen’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey, don’t get all worked up. I can already feel your soul wearing itself out faster. Panic only nets you passing out, human. I mean, I’m sure you’d be as cute as a sleeping cat when passed out, but--”

“Off!” Goro yelped, swatting at the demon with his towel. “Get off me, will you?! Can’t I panic in peace around here..?”

“..The circle’s still in effect, so not for a while,” Satanael pointed out, in the most awkward way in the world by using two of his six massive wings that kept poking the curtains of Goro’s sliding glass door. “You wanted assistance, right? You got the rest of the incantation down properly, so you must want help in something, right..?”

“...” Goro sat up properly for once, and he wrapped his hand around his towel, trying to ignore the pound of feathers Satanael shed all over his stupid living room like some cat with too much fur. He needed a second, and it seemed the demon got the memo, magically scooping up his shed feathers and dumping them as the brown-haired novice of a summoner tried to cobble his internal brain back together from the panic disaster mess it was.

Ugh.. Dammit, this is what I get for trying to summon demons by myself, Goro complained internally, nursing his aching hand and watching Satanael trying to clean up his feathers successfully. He’d gotten most of them by the time the stressed teen got back to breathing as if he wasn’t biking at 60 miles an hour, and another self-deprecating thought passed his mind before he’d next opened his mouth. Maybe I should have asked Kitagawa-san to help me out.. He studies stuff like this on his off time for his artwork, so I probably could have gotten the right fucking god instead of a random-ass demon..

“..Hey, Satanael-san? Where were you supposed to be going, anyway?”

With a bundle of feathers in his arms, Satanael turned his head. “Oh, you mean being off-course. Uh, kick the circle, will you? I don’t mind being in the human realm for a bit while we reorganize, yeah? And thanks for the coffee beans. I appreciate the gift, human.”

Goro kicked the circle with his bare foot despite his lingering confusion, and the candles promptly turned back to their usual color, the chalk having gone back to normal. Well, now the coffee beans, blood and needle were gone, but everything else was still right where it was, save for the streak of chalk from Goro’s bare foot.

“Anyways,” the demon continued, “I was off to confront some asshole human who just so happens to be a reincarnation of one of the main “Sin” groups your sort likes to put my kind into. Ah, he doesn’t go by Samael anymore, but that’s the name I knew him by before he decided to up and betray me.”

“..Betray?” Goro questioned. “So why come all the way up here for one measly human anyway?”

“Hrm. Correct yourself to say “falsely powerful” human, friend. That nasty son of a bitch decided to try and give himself a foothold in Japanese politics with so many violations of the point of my movement that I want to punch him back home,” Satanael hissed, the cores of his eyes flashing gold as he dumped the feathers onto Goro’s kitchen counter. “..Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think you summoning me was a mere accident. You feel a bit like he does.. Only a little.”

“...Huh??” It didn’t quite click to Goro, what Satanael meant, despite something telling Goro a certain bald-headed bastard might’ve been involved.

Satanael gestured to the circle, which still had his name’s characters in it. “I’m not so sure it was coincidence you wrote the name of a particularly rebellious demon, now, is it? I am the very representation of rebelling against authority, at least for some.

I’ve got a few names under my belt, because of it. Some call me “Satan”, since I’ve already rebelled once and gotten kicked out. Others like to call me “Lucifer” or “Helel”, too. But Satanael’s the preferred one. Get my drift?”

“..Wait, go back,” Goro said, standing up off the ground, while still holding onto his towel in his left hand. “A.. A rebel demon? ..W-well, I.. I wanted to rebel against my biological father.. He keeps trying to make me do his dirty work and I have a hell of a time trying to get him off my damn back.”

The teen huffed, and Satanael folded his wings, blowing out Goro’s candles and essentially helping pick up the mess all over the living room floor as the mortal of the pair turned on the kitchen lights again.

Goro opened his fridge to check for food, but was only met with a supply of apples and water bottles, and old leftovers he didn’t feel like trusting to the half-broken microwave he had to get off some sketchy online shop.

“..Uh, just out of curiosity, Satanael, do you eat?”

Kneeling in the middle of the floor with the mat, the demon lord just shrugged. “If coffee comes with it, I have no problem with what you have. I’d prefer you eat something, though. It’d be unbecoming of you to faint in the midst of teenage rebellion-ing your father.”

“Touche,” Goro responded blandly, pulling out the leftovers and a few apples. He also took out a water bottle and his coffee machine, the one other machine besides his alarm clock and his P.A.D. that worked without being too shitty, and he filled up the coffee machine’s water tank. “Oh, also.. I feel like I was rude earlier to you, so I apologize for that. My name is Goro Akechi, by the way. I’d forgotten, almost, to tell you that.”

“..Goro.. I like it,” Satanael chuckled, closing his eyes and smiling cheerfully as he placed Goro’s sewing needle back on the kitchen counter, bloodless. “I.. I suppose a more personable name I normally use while hiding among your kind is Akira. Akira Kurusu.”

“If I may.. have you been in Japan for a long time, before?” Goro asked, quietly, while he looked in the demon lord’s direction. The newly-dubbed Akira simply nodded, but in a wistful way, as his smile shrunk slightly to match.

“I’ve been here once before. Not, well, in your current capital.. but in the country. A little place called Inaba. I once happened to meet Izanami there, right when this other nasty human decided to invoke her power and try to cover the damn place in poisonous Yomi fog, all while I’d been in my human disguise. Let’s just say some humans close to your age a few years back had to put her in her place by summoning her very, very angry former husband.. I didn’t get involved much beyond observation for obvious reasons, really.”

“...” The much too tired teenager didn’t grace the little story with a response, finding it too tiring to follow beyond a basic repeat of legends he’d known since middle school. Well, besides the “Yomi fog” and the familiarity of what Akira may have been talking about.

...Oh, right.. Maybe Akira-san’s speaking about the Inaba fog murders. God, that was a disaster for their police force.. I ended up studying that for my current crappy job..

Reluctantly, Goro tossed the leftover food from the previous night onto a pair of plates, just a split-up beef bowl with noodles, and one plate went into the sketchy microwave, leaving the prep of the coffee. Another quick check of the kitchen yielded sugar and little creamer cups he’d snuck out of the office at work, and Goro turned around again to the demon lord, who had surprisingly ditched the demon form in favor of a mild, unassuming human look, complete with removed shoes already put near the apartment entrance and glasses.

“..A-ah.. Is that what it looks like?” the highschooler asked, instead of what he’d intended to ask. “It’s.. it’s a bit different, to say the least..”

Not to mention, Goro thought privately to himself, the unassuming-ness of this look feels.. cute, almost? The glasses are so nerdy, though.. The hair, though.. it helps balance that nerdiness out.. And he’s pretty tall, even as a normal human..

Akira just smiled slightly at Goro from his spot on the couch, twirling a bit of his now horn-free hair. “Well.. Sometimes, my kind has to regenerate a little at times. Sort of like those “Time Masters” from “Doctor Whom”, or whatever that human show is.

Except I just have roughly the same face, hair and voice every time. I’m halfway through at the moment, so in human terms, I am currently, in both mind and body, 16 years old... again. Does it make you feel more comfortable for me to look like this? You don’t seem too unhappy about it-”

Goro felt his cheeks heat up, and he just tried to not think about how alluring Akira’s new grey eyes looked, instead interrupting Akira in his tracks and turning his tomato-red face away again. “J-just tell me your coffee preference, please.”

“Just a touch of sugar and no creamer,” Akira reported, and the other teen could practically feel the disguised demon lord’s wink being sent in his direction as he grounded up the coffee beans in a bowl with the butt of a nearby hammer.

Dammit.. This’ll be a long however-long-he’ll-be-here, won’t it.. he thought with a frown, silently regretting ever going through with his little demon-summoning plan to ruin Shido’s day. Jeez, and on top of me getting the wrong otherworldly being, I end up with one that’s attractive!! I wish so badly to scream, Goro further thought, feeling his cheeks go on fire as he dumped the ground coffee into its filter, practically slamming the door on the filter hole shut just to snap himself out of it.

Evidently, he now had the craving to just go sit and talk with Akira for awhile instead. Goro was grateful for the stinging pain of his left hand when he grabbed the sugar bowl, grateful for a distraction from his mind’s silly, likely insomnia-caused thoughts. 

Goro shook his head at himself again, sighing as the microwave beeped to indicate the leftovers somehow didn’t get burnt.

I guess I really am wanting to date a demon lord.. Practically inevitable since he’s taken up flirting with me.. I guess this’ll just. Happen. Why not.

---

END

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

My little Squeaky Toy Pt.2 (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Title: My little Squeaky Toy Part 2(Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Summary: After the London incident you tell your friends about it, not mentioning the fact that it had been Tom who helped you out. For some reason, Tom inspires you to draw again and you head to the nearest art gallery. The luck is on your side that day.

Warnings: cuteness overload, some fluff (like somewhere in the middle, maybe), clumsiness, Tom is a ridiculous gentleman (again), light flirting

Notes: I’ve written this instead of sleeping so I have absolutely no clue if it is even remotely good. (Pls don’t kill me)  -> this is a repost from my old blog, so I’m sorry for tagging some of you guys in this again.

Word Count: 1936

Requested by: @eye106

Tag List: at the end

Here is the First Part 

It had been three months.

Three months since you saw him in London. Three months in which he hadn’t written or phoned you.

But what did you expect? He was famous, a celebrity. He surely didn’t even remember your name. And, of course, he had better things to do than dealing with someone he had merely given directions to.

But you remembered everything. His legs, his hand lying gently but dominant on your lower back, his incredible fair eyes underneath the glasses, the freckles you had just barely been able to spot.

It had been three months and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him for more than one second.

Despite your embarrassment you had somehow hoped that he would have called, or sent a short message, or asked if you had arrived at the hotel.

You had told your friends about your experience and your encounter with Tom, although you hadn’t mentioned his surname, because you had known exactly that they would have laughed. That, they had done anyways, but at least they hadn’t scolded you for not recognizing him and for not asking him for a selfie or an autograph. However, you were certain that, even if you had known who the man had been, you wouldn’t have asked for something like that. After all, you were too shy.

The only thing you had hoped, wished for, was a small text, a call, anything.

But what did you anticipate? You had to scale down your expectations. You should have done that way earlier. But somehow your heart didn’t want to listen to your head. It kept looping around the first time you had met him, in which you hadn’t even recognized who the person standing next to you really had been. You had been falling for him before you had actually identified him. Since then you hadn’t been able to wipe that stupid grin off your face, let alone your thoughts which had been circling continuously around the freckles, and the smile, and the legs… oh, jeez, those legs…

It hadn’t only been his body that had attracted you almost instantly, but also his character and pure and polite behavior.

You let out an exhausted sigh. Being enamoured was sort of stressful. Although you had to admit that your urge to draw had increased since you had met him. The only problem now, was your lacking inspiration.

Earlier that week, you had heard about an art gallery in London and, of course, you just had had to buy a ticket almost immediately. On the one hand because you would be able to maneuver your thoughts to something else than that ridiculously wonderful man, on the other hand because you knew there were going to be beautiful paintings, and therefore, a lot of inspiration to finally draw again.

Although it was one of the closest art galleries, you needed over four hours to arrive via train. You had gotten up early to be there at the opening time, so that you would be able to use the whole day for spending your time in the gallery.

Of course you hadn’t forgotten to bring your little squeaky toy. A new one, naturally. Somehow you had to control your swearing, at least. But you had to admit that you weren’t as fond of the new one, as you had been fond of the old one. However, you kept reassuring yourself, that Tom was taking good care of it.

There had been some problems thanks to your terrible sense of orientation, so the idea to depart earlier had revealed itself as a pretty good one.

Just shortly after the gallery had opened, you arrived there and, thankfully, the line wasn’t that long. It was a modern exhibition, so you weren’t the only younger one to be there, which eased a bit of the tension off your shoulders.

You had to show your ID and let your bag be controlled and, of course, you got weird glances as the security guards spotted your squeaky toy. Besides all your fears, they had just put it into your bag again and had given the latter back to you, so you could finally pass them.

Once in the building, you had to leave your bag in one of the lockers in the hallway, which wasn’t a problem since you could easily put your mobile phone and your anti-stress toy into the pockets of your light jacket. You had dressed up, even had put effort into your hair. For the first time in months you actually felt like you looked beautiful. It scared you a bit, that newly developed self-esteem. But not because you didn’t like it, no. It scared you because you didn’t know where it came from. You had been insecure for a long time of your life and now, all of a sudden, you wanted to shout out how happy you felt, for all the world to hear.

The gallery was amazing. You couldn’t tell which painting fascinated you more. That was until you stopped in front of an impressive painting of a woman in a blue dress. The blue a piercing colour that caught your eye almost immediately. It was a royal blue that emphasised the natural curves and the fair skin of the woman. You didn’t know what exactly it was that made that painting so mesmerizingly stunning, but you just had to stop and admire it, agape and nearly frozen on the spot.

“Overwhelming, isn’t it?”

You hadn’t realised that someone stood beside you. The deep baritone made you jump slightly. You would recognize that voice everywhere. But how? How was that possible?

“The blue makes it all the more beautiful, don’t you think?” He smiled, definitely, you could literally hear him smirking.

Maybe you shouldn’t have chosen the light blue summer dress that didn’t even cover your knees (it wasn’t that short, though, but now you felt like it was). You felt your face flushing and you continued to stare at the painting, unable to move or react in another way.

“Am I allowed to say that you look rather lovely today?”

That didn’t help you with your blushing at all. Thanks to that you were sure that your skin must have turned as red as a tomato, or as something in an even darker shade.

“Thank you.” You finally mastered to look at him. But momentarily you wished you hadn’t done so.

In the broad daylight that shone through the large windows of the gallery, he looked even more beautiful than the last time you had seen him in person. He wore a cream-coloured suit with a white button-down shirt, which fitted his slim figure more than perfectly. With the better lighting you could easily spot the light freckles you adored so much. When your gaze finally travelled up to his face, you nearly forgot to breath for a second or two. His hair and the beard hadn’t changed but his smile left you weak and in awe.

It still was a miracle to you how someone could look that good.

“Still on vacation?” After fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, he put his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“Actually…no.” You smiled awkwardly and averted your gaze. “I’m hoping to get inspired by some of the paintings here, to be honest.”

For a brief instant, he remained silent, focussed on the artwork in front of the both of you again.

“And? Did it work?”

“That I don’t know yet.” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“Are you an artist?” A soft warmth filled your chest due to the genuine interest he showed. It made him all the more adorable.

“No… I mean, not really. It’s more like a hobby.” You bit your lower lip as you felt his gaze on you again.

“I like what you did with your hair, it looks rather nice. One can see your artistic giftedness through that.”

You hadn’t known that it was possible to blush even more. But you did.

“Sorry. Did I go too far?” Tom hurried to ask, obviously insecure himself now. Though you weren’t sure about that. It could have been his natural gentleman like behaviour as well.

“No! No, it’s fine, really… I…” You stumbled over your own words and paused to collect yourself again. “Thank you.”

“(Y/N), right?”

Oh god, he remembered your name! After three months he still knew how you were being called.

He strolled down the corridor in a slow pace, so you could easily keep up with his tempo. Considering the height difference, you still had to run.

“You are remembering my name.”

“Of course, I am. After all, I got this utterly beautiful anti-swearing squeaky toy from you. Which, I have to admit, is rather useful from time to time.” He didn’t tease you, quite the contrary. His voice sounded honest and candid.

“Is it really?” Your instinct told you to be careful about instantly believing in what he had said, but your heart nearly burst at the compliment, pounding too fast and loud in your chest.

“Yes, it is!” There it was. The excitement you had seen on him only in some of his interviews so far. Slightly childish, but in an absolute sweet and cute way.

“Don’t you get weird glances by your colleagues when you carry it around?”

“Sure. But that doesn’t matter. It’s important to keep on doing things that help you and that are good for you. That is why I don’t think that a squeaky toy that helps you deal with an urge to swear is in any way something strange or odd.”

At first you didn’t believe a word he said. No one (at least no one you knew) had told you something like that until that moment. Tom really was up for a lot of surprises.

“You’re the first one to say something like that. Usually everyone thinks I’m just odd.” Fumbling with said toy in the pocket of your jacket, you smiled when you both came to a stop in front of another painting. Sadly, your whole focus lay on Tom, now that you had finally met him again.

“Well, if they are defining odd, what is normal, then?”

A soft chuckle escaped you when you heard Tom say that. You thought of a witty response, but none came to your mind, so you stayed silent and observed his profile for a while. His perfectly shaped nose, the sharp outlines of his jaw, his Adam’s apple…God, that man was ideal.

Eventually, he did notice that you were staring at him and shifted, looking a bit nervous all of a sudden. You could tell he wasn’t uncomfortable by the way he slightly turned towards you, even leaning down a bit, and returned the look, a hint of amusement reflecting in his eyes.

You viewed the rest of the gallery in a peaceful silence, just here and there exchanging a few words about the paintings and your thoughts about them. It was amazing. You had never experienced something like that, even though you weren’t talking that much. For some strange reason, walking next to each other and relatively close to each other, felt really intimate at that moment.

“So, when are you leaving London again?” He turned around to face you, as you reached the exit of the art gallery.

“Today, probably.” You couldn’t cover up the slightly depressed undertone that was evidently audible in your voice.

He nodded, clearly fumbling for words.

“I was wondering if you might want to meet again? Maybe for dinner?”

Tag List: @fiammablade3466 @zainab2 @the-lululemon @superanimenatural @blackirisposts @thejemersoninferno @nwmtagsb @signalnotfound0 @emyhonny @kimanne723 @alexakeyloveloki @spookycatqueen @disneyoncerlover815 @aaminah12 @mrshiddleston-uk @loobnknoob @lykaonimagines @caticorndancingonpainbows @finney13s @alexxandra-the-great @lilyrosebae @sarahivi @michellearel1

[kpopchangedme]

You agreed to meet Jinyoung for a coffee date, what could go wrong? Surely you are not going to run into Im Jaebum on the way there… Right?

Starboy-Masterlist || M A S T E R L I ST

Protagonists: Baseball player Im Jaebum / You / Dr. Park Jinyoung

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: SFW | University | Baseball | Romance | *Socially offensive language* – Mini-Series

Lysandre’s note: Repost because I wanted this chapter on my main ;)

Staring at your reflexion, you barely have time to avoid the pair of rolled up socks Makayla throws at your head. She boos, sitting on the small bed of your dorm bedroom with her arms crossed, clearly disapproving your choice of outfit.

“At least show some cleavage. Let the poor shaman have hope!” Laughing, you pull your black sweater over your head to change into something more appealing under her expert gaze. “I thought you hated dating by the way…”

“He’s still a doctor, not a shaman! And I do hate dates... And I totally told him that...” Although, you didn’t exactly mention to Jinyoung about your last messy breakup. You choose a cute embroidered raspberry blouse, slipping it on and showing it off. “He said that if we met by ‘coincidence’ in a coffee shop it wouldn’t be what he’d call a date –” Makayla frowns, skeptical. “– but fate.”

“Ugh. Are you kidding me?” You laugh at her cringe, deciding her lack of comment meant she approved of the blouse. “Did he actually say it aloud or texted you that corny crap, what century are we–”

“Aloud.”

“Well, fuck me.” She finds her phone in the sheets of your unmade bed to tap at the screen, angrily. “And I can’t even get a text back!”

“Sungjin would text you back...” You pull your tongue at her, siding with your classmate for his desperate crush on that hopeless girl. “He’s a decent guy, it’d changed you from those football players.”

“Joke’s on you, my last victim is a golfer! I don’t know y/n… I kinda live for the thrill of being left on read.” At that, you can only shake your head in disbelief.

She might like to tease your dating phobic ways, but she’s as bad as you when it comes to commitment. While you usually avoid guys altogether, Makayla always seems to only get involved with the ones she knows will never be interested.

“You should wear that with your pale jeans, your ass looks fantastic in those!”

“Ooh, great idea, thanks!”

“Also, please put on lingerie!”

“Tst – This is a coffee non-date! I won’t jump him or any–”

“Hot guys can sense that shit.” You hesitate, pouting as Makayla wiggles her brow suggestively. “What if he drops his coffee on you and gets scared when he sees that horrible skin-coloured monstrosity through your soaked clothes?” Makayla rolls to the side to grab a lace bralette on your headboard and throws it at you. “Wear that, he’ll love it! That one screams ‘Please doctor, pour hot liquid on me!’.”

You study the pink floral lace between your fingers, feeling heat rush to your face as you remember the last time you wore it. You can still recall the feel of Jaebum’s hands; his fingers sliding the straps off your shoulders, his lips sucking your nipples through the thin lace...

“Yeah – Um, I think I’ll just go with the ‘monstrosity’ for today, it’s the only one that doesn’t show through the fabric.”

What’s with you, thinking of that stupid pitcher like that? You’re about to go on a date with a handsome med Resident. Somewhere on the floor, your phone dings from under a pile of rejected outfits. You hurry to fish it to look at the text, anxious.

Park Jinyoung: I’m going to be getting coffee at a very random coffee shop (the one on the corner of Wall & College) in about 15 minutes… [18:44PM]

You smile dumbly reading it just as another one comes in.

Park Jinyoung: (Not that I would ever expect to see you there... This isn’t a date or anything!) [18:44PM]

“Oh my god. You’re smiling at your damn phone y/n! Just leave already, before I kill myself!”

___

10 minutes later and you’re standing in front of the coffee shop, too nervous to move. It’s been a while since you dated – not that this could be considered a real date – almost two years. You run a hand on your blouse, smoothing imaginary wrinkles. Unfortunately, it’s when you finally decide to enter the coffee that he, exits it.

And Jaebum isn’t alone, he’s with another one of his teammates, one you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet. When he sees you, there’s a flicker of dread in his eyes, but in a second, he’s back to his usual composure. Which is horribly unfortunate, because now he’s walking straight at you and you have virtually nowhere to hide.

“Hey y/n”, he smiles sheepishly, disregarding the fact that you were evidently trying to walk by without greeting him.

“Hey.”

“Hi”, the player you don’t know nudges his friend with his elbow. He’s a bit shorter and very very handsome. Although, beautiful would probably be a more appropriate choice of word. “I’m Mark,” his smile is so white and wide it almost blinds you.  “And you are... Y/n...”

“Yes… That’s me…” You deadpan reddening, and Jaebum wiggles from one foot to the other. Now you’re unhealthily curious about what is said of you in their locker room, you bite your lips.

“Y/n”, Mark repeats as if you needed to be reminded. Does the baseball team have a secret black book with conquests names, or what? Clearly, that guy is in the known somehow. Tilting his head towards Jaebum, he adds: “The Creative Writing girl...” Mark giggles, the sound surprisingly irritating and you stare at him, shocked.

Creative Writing; a class you took to force yourself out of your comfort zone after your break up forever ago. You didn’t socialize, so it’d be surprising that guy remembered you at all – if you truly were in his class.

Mark turns to the pitcher, poking him with his elbow again. “I wasn’t aware you guys knew each oth–”

“I really wanted to tell you, about that night at the club,” Jaebum ignores him, keeping his baffling coolness despite the obvious teasing. “I’m so sorry, I was horrible. I’m a jerk and I wanted to apologize ever since, but I don’t have any way of contacting you or–”

“It’s okay Jaebum, it’s in the past – I don’t care – So don’t feel bad about it, these things happen. We were both drunk.” You clench your teeth, forcing a polite smile. If he truly felt like apologizing, he knew you worked at the clinic, he knew where to find you. It took you three weeks to digest his outburst, but you’ll stick by your not caring resolution. Even if in the end it truly makes you a bitch.

“The club…” Mark looks confused, gaze darting between you two until something seems to connect in his mind. “Oh, the club! Y/n!”

“Right, we’re fine then”, Jaebum’s sly smile falls and he brings his left hand up to scratch his neck, uncomfortable. Despite yourself, you note that he still seems able to move his arm and bend his elbow easily – not that you’d care. “Thank you... For forgiving me, it’s a relief.”  

“It’s nothing!” You take a step in the direction of the coffee shop, but Jaebum moves aside at the same time, blocking your way. “I a-actually need to go.”

“Yeah, sorry”, he avoids your gaze, inadvertently moving at the same time as you again.

“Our campus is so small”, his friend Mark makes the same high pitch giggle sound again, causing you to turn to stare. “The girl from Creative Class is… Y/n.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, surprised he seems so entertained by all this. “I took that class forever ago and I–”

“One year”, he grins, overly confident, “with Mr. Yachnin, you sat next to us for the whole trimester.”

“You were in that class too?” You frown at Jaebum with skepticism. You’re pretty sure you’d remember if a guy looking like him sat next to you.

“I… guess so...” He shrugs, exchanging a look with his friend. “Anyway, sorry again, have a great day!” Finally stepping away from your path with success, Jaebum pushes Mark forward, forcing him to walk.

“Bye, y/n the Creative Writing girl. I hope to see you around a lot more!” The other player laughs again, obeying his teammate reluctantly. “Come see us play Saturday!”

AH! As if.

You wave back at him, frowning. It’s so weird to think you shared a class with them without knowing. Of all the classes related to sports you took over the course of your studies, you had a random art class together. Surely that’s why Jaebum said he thought you were in the Art Dep the first time you met. It makes a lot more sense now, but he’d have to have recognized you. Again, he was right that night when he said you knew nothing about him. You don’t even know what he’s studying, you just assumed it had to do with sports since most athletes are in Physical Ed.

You’re almost pushing the door of the coffee shop when you decide to do something completely useless. Jaebum and Mark have stopped walking and are now absorbed in a heated discussion, several meters away.

“HEY, I almost forgot!”, they both twitch when you yell, although you only keep your eyes on the tallest one. “Im Jaebum!” He opens his mouth perplexed, and you laugh, entertained by his confusion.

“I do know your last name, Starboy!”

Without waiting any longer, you push the door of the coffee shop, leaving the two confused baseball players behind. Jinyoung instantly stands up and waves when you walk in, looking so handsome you stop in your tracks. Your wide smile, a remnant of your amusement freezes a bit, turning to an awkward grin. You can do this. This is just a coffee break and Jinyoung seems like an amazing guy.

You can totally nail this non-date.

“Hi y/n,” The young doctor tilts his head to the side, smirking as you walk up to him, “fancy running into you here.”

“Hi,” you giggle, sounding like the stupidest girl in the whole world, but he doesn’t seem to mind, gazing at you warmly. This time, you don’t feel as intimidated as he takes you in. Your makeup and hair are on point, clothes evidently carefully selected for this very moment. You are okay, you are in control of your variables, or so you repeat to yourself mentally like a mantra.

“Wow, you’re gorgeous.” Jinyoung sighs, slightly dazed, as though influenced by your thoughts.

“T-Thanks,” His eyes crinkle as he flashes his perfect teeth, watching you get shy, “you too.”

His compliment sounded sincere whilst yours is half-mumbled, unable to do him any justice. He’s even more handsome than the first time you met him. Today he ditched the dress shirt in favour of a casual white tee, dangerously tight on his chest, and pale jeans. He also came without his glasses and, although he still looked godlike with them, it seems to make his eyes pop-out even more. You struggle to hold eye contact, too flustered, hopefully, you won’t be awkward for the whole date. You want to feel less anxious, be more comfortable, but don’t know how. It’s been too long. Jinyoung doesn’t even seem to notice how out of it you are when he puts his hand in the middle of your shoulder blades. He barely touches you to guide you to the lineup in front of the register, but it still makes you mentally freak out.

“Since we’re both here at the same time, only by pure chance. I think we should grab a cup of coffee together, y/n. Surely it’s a sign.”

“Oh, a sign?” You laugh stiffly at his joke, nervousness perceivable. “Right, what were the odds of us meeting here, today, at 7pm? It’s not like we planned this.”

“Well, I like to make my own odds.” Jinyoung nods, eyes anchoring themselves in yours with all the confidence in the world. At the moment, you can tell he’s not the type to ever have been hurt or rejected by a girl. How could one say no to such a guy anyway? “My father always says we should never play the waiting game and should strike while the bat is hot.”

“The iron?” You snort, reassured a bit by his easygoing playfulness. It’s true that Jinyoung was nothing but smooth and funny on your first encounter. You have no valid reason to feel so stressed when he’s obviously trying to make light conversation. “Your father sure sounds like a wise man.”

“Not at all.” Jinyoung chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “I probably shouldn’t listen to what he says, he’s both awful at relationships and idioms.”

“I see.” His palm is warming your back, and you lean closer to his shoulder, unthinkingly.

“Either way, date or not,” Jinyoung talks softly this time, for only you to hear in the crowded coffee shop, “I’m glad you said yes, happy that you’re here with me now.”

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, but the doctor just smiles, turning to the lineup in front of you as if it was the most natural thing to say. Unbeknown to him, you stare at his profile in awe, finally allowing yourself to be happy you came too and starting to relax.

Starboy-Masterlist  ||  M A S T E R L I ST

[modesty-blaise]

Since I'm curious, what caused you to become very possessive of your gifs? Not out of rudeness but curious, since no matter what you do a lot of them show up in the gif function on Tumblr which automatically credits you at the bottom of the gif.

Hey. Tbh, at first I didn’t wanna bother with yet another anon but since I see no ill intent behind this, I decided to go and answer it. Unfortunately, half-way through I realised my reply is turning into incredibly long semi-bitter rant and expands well beyond calling out just one person in Psychonauts fandom (and yes, this is related to Psychonauts fandom – you do know that these anons are not really that anonymous, right?) so… buckle up! All that beneath “read more”.

I’ve been on this hellsite for like…7-8 years? Maybe more? Can’t really tell cause I moved blogs and my old blog now consists of only 4 posts I’ve made close to leaving so I honestly have no idea how much time I’ve spend here before moving. Anyway, during those few years I’ve spent on my first blog I’ve met a lot of creative gifmakers who enjoyed sharing their love for fandoms they were in. I’d like to point out that this was waaaaay before tumblr created that insert-gif option so, back in the day, the only way to add gifs to your post was to: 1. make them yourself 2. take them from someone else. And a lot of people were taking them from someone else which resulted in many gifmakers giving up on making gifs and leaving fandoms and/or even leaving tumblr – and I’ve had many of my friends give up on what they love and have their games/shows/movies/whatnot ruined for them cause people would not stop stealing from them. And many of my friends eventually left tumblr cause they couldn’t deal with it anymore.

Tumblr adding insert-gif option, in my opinion, honestly, just made it worse for gifmakers. Cause now people had the opportunity to use gifs for their posts, with or without creators’ permission/knowledge, but it was alright and it was perfectly fine cause creators were credited. There’s their name at the bottom. It’s alright. Like… it doesn’t matter if they’re actually okay with people using something they’ve put hours into making or if they’re not – tumblr gives them credit so they SHOULD be okay with it. Simple as that.

Well, we’re all different and some people are not okay with that. I’m not okay with that. It took me weeks to figure out how to use photoshop correctly. Took me countless hours of looking through different tutorials and basically trial-and-error-ing my way through the process. Whenever I make gifs, it takes me hours to record videos and then hours trying to achieve that 3mb limit on gifs (thank lord these days we’re beyond 1mb limit). After all that effort I put into creating gifs for games that I love and enjoy, someone is going to make 2 clicks and have that same gif added to their post, without even asking. So how is that okay?

Back to your question. Yes, “no matter what you do a lot of them show up in the gif function on Tumblr”, that is true and that is something I was aware of when I saw you-know-who announcing they would be starting 30 days Psychonauts challenge. So, hating to see my gifs used against my will, and not wanting to start any unnecessary drama and threaten people in advance with reporting them if they do use them, I’ve made my blog as private as I could. It was only accessible through the dashboard, it was not showing in ANY search engines inside and outside tumblr, and my gifs were impossible to find through insert-gif function – I’ve made sure. I did all that cause I just knew that during those 30 days, someone would use my gifs and I would get mad and I desperately wanted to avoid that (hence going extreme). And you know what happened? You know what creator of this challenge (who prevously already reposted my gifs) did? *drums* They used my shit anyway. :3 They just uploaded it from their computer, where they’ve saved it earlier.

And like… a lot of people see pretty pic and decide to save it - I mean, we all do that. Heck, even I have a folder full of shit I saw online and liked it – but i’m not uploading it online cause I haven’t made it. It’s not mine to share.

But some people are not like that.

Some people see fanart of something they like and they want to share their opinion on it – and instead of making their own post, maybe drawing the fanart themselves, they decide to use someone else’s art for their post. Do they know who made it? Do they have creator’s permission to share it? If the answer is NO, then they should be a decent human being and not do that to creators. Oh, they shared it anyway but now people in fandom are calling them out BUT this actually happened on accident? They know who the creator is but, somehow, they accidentally forgot to credit them? OK, well, it’s possible, shit happens, but they better make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Then sometime later these same people decide they want to make a post appreciating their fav character and they want to include pics cause duh, you can’t have character appreciation post without pics, right? Now they have several options: they can get their own screenshots, make their own gifs, maybe draw something… or they can just take someone else’s creation. Do they know who made it? Well there’s my fuckin name on it, and since they’ve stretched it from 245 to 500px, it’s really hard to miss, plus it’s not like there are that many people making Psychonauts gifs. Do they have permission to share it? Hmmm, nope, didn’t ask me. Is this also an accident? Could be. I mean, I’ve seen stranger things happen, so accidentally forgetting to credit content creators twice… kinda suspicious but still possible. Who am I to say?

Now if these people then decide to make a post appreciating their fav ship and they want to add a cute pic of the loving couple – yup, you guessed it! They can either create something or take something. Again: they know who did? They asked for permission? Got the permission? No?!?! But they posted it anyway?!?! :o Could it really be, that after being called out publicly, after being told that reposting is bad (something that’s very easy to understand), after even having tumblr staff intervene and remove stolen shit from their blog, after all that - could it really still be an accident?

Nah, man.

They just don’t give a shit.

Cause if they did, they’d stop with that crap first time they were called out.

(and if you think Psychonauts fandom is their only fandom and that they’re not doing this crap in other fandoms too - hoooo, boy, do I have some bad news for you! Do you know how many stolen and butchered HP fanart is on their blog? Hobbit stuff? They seem to be one of the most accident-prone users on tumblr. And honestly - it’s a real miracle their blog’s not been terminated.)

Back to what I was talking about - I’m not okay with people using my gifs and I’ve made it very clear. I literally do not give a shit if I’m credited or not, I’ve made it very clear that I don’t want my gifs used without my permission. If you like them and want them on your blog, there’s a fuckin reblog button. It’s sole purpose is to allow you to share other people’s creations. Or shitposts, cause lord knows we all love those.

So that’s why when someone spends hours going through my Psychonauts tag and goes as far as to send me “I love your gifs” anonymous message, but the very next day makes stim moodboard post including one of my gifs, now cut and resized to fit 3x3 format they’re going with, I get mad. And that’s why when someone uses one of my gifs to promote their RP blog, butchering it to fit their aesthetics, and later when confronted going as far as blaming their good friend on it cause god! they’ve had no idea it wasn’t theirs, I get mad. (makes you wonder though: if they friend has such skills, why not making them gifs themselves?)

Like…. I’ve had my gifs stolen plenty of times. I’ve had them stolen for roleplaying, for headers, for imagines, just for notes… I’ve had them stolen by people claiming to run official fan sites (that’s a real wild story but I won’t get into that now)… I’ve seen them on pinterest, weheartit, FB, all those random gif sites… and I’ve seen EVERY. POSSIBLE. EXCUSE. ranging from: “well i found it on google so why should i credit you” “lol dunno who made this but its pretty so im posting it” “ive had it on my computer for years so i don’t remember where i got it from” “i dont know how to make gifs so im using weheartit as a source” “credit to whoever made this” (that’s my fav) to “its just a gif so who gives a shit” (it’s not – it’s hours of creator’s time and lots of love that you’re now shitting on so thanks) and “i have an /illness/ and getting notes makes me feel better so dont u dare blame me for stealing” (I don’t remember exact excuse but it was something along those lines and like… how do you even respond to something that without looking like an asshole?).

And sometimes it really is just an accident. Sometimes people really do forget to credit you and/or ask you for permission. And I’ve had my fair share of those accidents. People in Psychonauts fandom have been using my gifs for various crap but, when approached, they’ve removed it and apologised. And it’s something I really appreciate. (if they actually bother reading this and they recognise themselves: i’m really grateful and thank you for not being an ass)

But you know what I don’t appreciate? People making a call out posts about me, asking about my gifs when they know very well they’re the main reasons why I’m not making those gifs anymore, at the same time failing to address any of the issues I have with them and instead rather explaining to others what happened BUT explaining only the parts that make me look like a villain cause how I even dare be mad about them stealing? How I even dare call them out on it? That is so ridiculous and criminal of me, and it’s so so sooooo bad that they need to call me out. I deserve to be called out by the very same person who’s been stealing my shit.

And their explanation is…well… it’s something.

They were sympathetic and polite? When did this happen? Did I completely missed that part? Please someone fuckin enlighten me with such post/message where they expressed their sympathy and politeness and I’ll apologise right this second.

I told them to “literally fuck off”? Yeah, that did happen, I admit that. Did they bother explaining why I told them to fuck off in the first place? Did they say they were caught stealing from me and had tumblr stuff remove my shit from their blog? Did they get into details of how they demanded the proof of my so very wild and obviously false claims but then when I showed it, they just deleted that “how dare u call me out cause I would never do such thing” post? No, they didn’t and geee, I really wonder why.

Instead, what did they choose to address? Out of all the things I’ve said. Hm? What did they choose? Me telling them to fuck off. Me dropping the F-bomb on them, rudely rejecting their obvious kindness and politeness. Nothing else.

Back to what I was talking about before I got derailed again: no, I’m not mad cause this person used my gifs without crediting me. I mean – I am, but that’s not my main issue with them (and they know it). My main issue is that this is someone who will continuously lie and steal and still deny any of it, even when there’s plenty of proof (and you can always count on me to show up with proof tbh), and then go as far as to publicly ask about my gifs and try to call me out. Like me getting mad that something I’ve put hours of work into, and something I’ve made cause I love the game and I want to share my love and appreciation for it, is now being shared against my will and my knowledge - like me getting mad over something like that is so unreasonable that they need to make an entire post about it while pretending they have absolutely no idea why I’m even mad and why we have issues.

And I have every fucking right to be mad. 3 times is not an accident. 2 times to the same person is not an accident. They know it. But yeah, playing stupid is their defense so it’s not like I expected them to actually address their actions this time either.

And you know what? Just because I swear a lot doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Doesn’t mean there’s no solid ground for my claims. People on tumblr have always been and always will be stealing shit. Sometimes they will credit you, often they will not, and that’s just how it is, doesn’t matter if you’re okay with it or not. But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna sit quiet and accept someone’s shitty behaviour. Especially when it’s directed at me.

TLDR: giving credit =/= having permission

but my previous posts leading to this ask were not about that

you knew that already

[ask-joeydrewstudios]

((y’know what? i’ve written a few fics with sammy and susie, and people have been asking for more henry and dianne content. here’s a fic about how henry and dianne met for all you lovely folks out there. excuse the mess, im still not used to writing xD The only thing that’s changed since that art I drew of this scenario months back is that Dianne’s a waitress now, not a random patron. here’s the AO3 link for anyone that wants it. Anyway, enjoy.))

[[do not repost to other websites]]

  Henry, on most days, wouldn't consider himself the type of person to turn down a free lunch. Free food was free food, especially in this economy. Money was tight, and even if his job as an animator paid well he still couldn’t afford to turn down a free meal. The studio he worked at had an overabundance of canned bacon soup that nearly nobody was eating, and it was made free to anyone that would eat it in an effort to get rid of it. As such, his lunch breaks usually consisted of him sitting in the breakroom, downing a few cans and drawing. Though, eating the same thing almost every day for years... well, some days he can't stand to look at the stuff. This sunny spring Tuesday was one of those unusual days. 12:30PM rolled around and he took his sketchbook with him as he got up and walked to the studio exit. The cool, crisp air that greeted him as he opened the front doors was refreshing; it was a pleasant change from the smoke and ink-fume filled air he was far too used to.

  While his favorite sandwich shop was only a five minute walk from the studio, he still kept a quick pace. He only had an hour, and he wanted to enjoy as much of it as possible. He held his sketchbook firmly under his left arm as he walked quickly along the crowded city sidewalks, sometimes throwing the occasional glance to the street where cars drove by. If the place wasn't already so close to the studio and he wasn't in need of exercise, he'd probably be in the traffic himself.

  A bell chimed as he opened the door to the small corner shop. The place was never terribly busy, and somehow his favorite booth was always free. The booth was perfectly in the middle of the row that stretched along the windows in the front. He sat down, opened his sketchbook to a new page, and reached for the pencil he always kept behind his ear-

  ...only to find, it was missing. Reaching into his sweater he found the one he kept in his dress shirt pocket was absent as well. Pencils falling from behind his ear when he wore glasses was a normal occurrence. He had no idea where the other one went.

  He sighed, and just as he did a waitress conveniently appeared by his table. Before she could deliver her usual welcoming line, he cut in.

  "You wouldn't happen to have a spare pencil, would you?"

  The waitress, who was named Dianne according to her name tag, seemed taken aback for a brief moment. That was not the response she was expecting, she felt like she'd been running on autopilot for the past hour and people weren't supposed to speak before she did. As she came back to her senses, the question registered in her mind. Did she have a spare pencil? Of course she had spares. She didn't have time to sit around sharpening pencils every time they broke while she wrote orders, so she kept a few on her at all times for when the inevitable happened. She retrieved one from her light-blue uniform's skirt pocket and held it out for him with a smile.

  "Thank you." He nodded, accepting it.

  "Now, what can I get for you?"

   A half hour later, he'd already filled a page with this Dianne woman. He meant to do one simple sketch to leave with her and the pencil he borrowed as a way to say thanks, but as it turns out she was quite beautiful and quite fun to draw. As discreetly as he could (which, for the record, was not very) he watched her take orders and walk to and from the kitchen. Their gazes met a few times and every time he looked away more frantically, hoping not to give her the wrong idea. If he didn't care, he could stare into her enchanting green eyes all day, or watch her almost constantly brush a stray lock of medium-brown hair behind her ear only for it to float back in front of her face seconds later. It was rather endearing.

  Henry had been so captivated by drawing he nearly forgot he was on lunch break, and he'd been neglecting his turkey sandwich. According to his watch, he had twenty minutes left before he would have to return to the studio. Pushing his sketchbook aside he turned his attention back to his food, and watched the world outside the window as he ate. People passed by, cars drove nearly bumper-to-bumper down the street, and behind him he could hear the ambiance of the cozy little restaurant. There were a few people around him chatting among themselves, and clatter from the kitchen that funneled through the small window behind the counter. This was one of his favorite places in the city, if he was honest. If he didn't have to return to the studio soon he would keep ordering sandwiches and drawing for as long as he could. The only way it could get any better in this moment would be if it started to rain.

  "So you were staring at me so you could... draw me?"

  He froze at the voice he recognized as the waitress coming from behind him. Turning slowly he saw she was holding his sketchbook and leaning on the booth's seat. Realizing she mentioned how he had been staring, his eyes widened and he felt himself turn bright red. With the way she looked at the resulting page and smiled though, he figured she didn't exactly mind.

  "Yeah, you're a really good model."

  "Well, you're a really good artist." She responded with a chuckle.

  "Oh, thank you."

  He almost had a heart attack when, without taking her gaze from his sketchbook, she took a seat across from him in the booth. He wasn't sure if he was happy about this or not.

  "Would you mind if I...?" She looked up at him as she went to turn the page. Oh god, she wanted to look through the thing. There was nothing strange or embarrassing in this particular book, only life drawings like the page she'd been fawning over, but he still felt a little uneasy about letting her thumb through it.

  "No, not at all. Go right ahead." He noticed he'd been bouncing his leg, which he knew he hadn't been doing until she started talking to him. With every page she turned she only seemed to be more amazed.

  "I'd like to correct my earlier statement, you're an amazing artist, Mr...?"

  She was looking at him again. He was briefly lost in her gaze before realizing he was just asked a question. Idiot, he hissed in his head.

  "Henry!" He offered a handshake. "Henry Batim."

  She shook his hand.

  "That's... an interesting last name. French?"

  "I'm not too sure, actually. You'd think with as often as I'm asked that I would have looked into it by now." He nervously laughed. "And you are?"

  "Dianne Collins." She smiled now, smiled at him... and he couldn't help but smile back.

  "Nice to meet you, Dianne."

  "Nice to meet you too." She let go of his hand before he let go of hers, and she went back to flipping through the sketchbook.

  "So how long have you been drawing?"

  "Oh, about... Always? I can't remember a time in my life where I wasn't drawing."

  "It certainly shows, these are incredible. I could never get the hang of drawing, nothing ever came out right. You, on the other hand..."

  "Well, it all comes with practice. If you think those are good, you should see the stuff I actually put effort into." Did he sound modest or conceited? 'Look at me, apparently my dumb sketches look magnificent, I bet if I showed you my finished works you'd-'

  "Really? What kind of things do you draw?"

  "Anything that catches my interest. Landscapes, portraits..." 'Would she be impressed if I told her I drew cartoons for a living?'

  "That sounds wonderful, I'd love to see them some time."

  "I'm... free after work, at six. Maybe we could get dinner and I could show you more?"

  "Sounds fun, Henry. Where do you work?"

  "Just down the street, you know where Joey Drew Studios is?"

  "You work for Joey Drew, making those little cartoons?" She asked. He nodded and held his breath.

  "That's amazing!" She cheered. He sighed, relieved. "You have to tell me how you came to work at Joey Drew Studios of all places tonight."

  "Dinner, art, and a history lesson? Sounds like a date."

  She closed his sketchbook and handed it back to him. Their fingers brushed against each other as he took it, and his heart skipped a beat.

  "See you at the studio doors around six, then." She said, getting out of the booth and heading back to the kitchen.

  "See you then!" He called back to her. Before closing the kitchen door they shared one more smile as she waved at him and he waved back. After the door swung shut he looked down at his sketchbook in front of him, his mind already swarming with thoughts about what happened and the fact that he apparently had a date tonight.

  ...Wait, he had a date now?

[master-of-schadenfreude]

@quietest-rebellion OK SO LONG STORY BUT LIL OVER A MONTH AGO I CAME ACROSS A 6FANARTS THAT HAPPENED TO INCLUDE A CERTAIN HANDSOME PHOTOGRAPHER ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

HE IMMEDIATELY CAUGHT MY EYE (BAD PUN SORRY NOT SORRY) I JUST HAD TO KNOW WHO THIS SMUG BASTARD WAS & WHERE HE WAS FROM!!!!!

SO ONE YT SEARCH LATER I FIND THE TWISTED DEADLY PHOTOGRAPHER TRAILER & THAT WAS THAT! MY FATE WAS SEALED!! I WAS A GONER FOR STEFANO VALENTINI!!!!!

FUNNY ENOUGH I WAS ACTUALLY REALLY INTO TEW1 WHEN IT CAME OUT BUT I MOVED ON P QUICK & FORGOT ABOUT IT YET SOMEHOW NEVER FOUND OUT A SEQUEL EXISTED

NOW HERE AM I, BACK AT IT AGAIN IN TEW FANDOM! UNFORTUNATELY SHOWIN UP ALMOST 3 YEARS LATE WITH STARBUCKS MEANS YOU GOTTA GO DIGGIN REALLLLL DEEP TO FIND THAT GOOD GOOD SO I WENT HUNTIN FOR OLD & NEW STEFANO CONTENT ALIKE

PIXIV WAS THE EASIEST TO USE. EACH POST WAS A PORTFOLIO WITH MULTIPLE PIECES OF ART & ARTISTS P MUCH ALWAYS TAGGED THEIR WORK BUT THERE ISN'T MUCH NEW STUFF

PINTEREST WAS A GOLD MINE SINCE IT HOSTS ART FROM ALL THE OTHER SITES BUT THERE'S LOTS OF LOW-RES REPOSTS WITH NO SOURCES & IT OFTEN REDIRECTS YOU TO A PAGE THE IMAGE IS ON INSTEAD OF THE IMAGE ITSELF SO YOU GOTTA SIFT

TWITTER IS THE BEST FOR NEW ART BUT ONLY IF YOU KNOW WHO TO FOLLOW & FINDING THOSE ACTIVE POSTERS IS DIFFICULT BC HARDLY ANYONE USES TAGS SO PINTEREST AS NAVIGATOR HELPS & GOOD NEWS IS TEW ARTISTS FOLLOW EACH OTHER SO FIND ONE & YOU'LL HAVE THEM ALL

TUMBLR AS WE ALL KNOW IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST UGH EVEN WHEN YOU DO TAG STUFF IT IS DOESN'T WORK RIGHT BUT EVEN WORSE IS THE APP DOESN'T SHOW POST DATES ANYMORE & NOW YOU CAN ONLY CHECK IN BROWSER

I'VE COME ACROSS SOME GREAT STEFANO CONTENT BLOGS BUT MANY ARE SINCE LONG DEAD OR EVEN DEACTIVATED SO I STOPPED CHECKING DATES BC I FIGURED: "WELL DAMD EVERYONE MUST HAVE MOVED ON ALREADY & I'M NOT ABOUT DUMP MY 9 PAGE DISSERTATION 'WHY STEFANO VALENTINI IS AN EXCEPTIONALLY FORMIDABLE VILLIAN ESPECIALLY WITH CONSIDERATION TO HIS MENTAL & PHYSICAL HISTORY ' IN SOMEONE'S POST FROM 2018 ( ꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ) WAIT.... WHAT IF HAHA NO... UNLESS??? I JUST SCREECH ABOUT STEFANO IN TAGS WHERE NOBODY WILL SEE HEH ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ"

WELL I'M SURE I COULD HAVE ANSWERED IN LESS THAN 2 PARAGRAPHS IN LESS THAN THE 6 HOURS IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS & BUT OCD IS A MASSIVE BIG BITCH THAT DOES NOT LET ME WRITE LESS THAN PERFECTLY & AS YOU CAN SEE (HELP I CAN'T STOP THE PUNS) WHEN IT ALSO COMES TO STEFANO BRAIN GO: `BRRRRRRRRRRRRR TALK ABOUT THE ITALIAN MURDER MAN ALL THE TIME

& NOW I HAVE BEEN HYPERFIXATING ON THIS EVIL ART HOE FOR THE LAST 42 DAYS OH GOD OH FU-

Theory that Stefano teleporting is actually just him moving fast enough that it seems like he is.

I say this because I noticed in the second gif above it really just seems lime he’s moving super fast. Also, there are many other things throughout the game that lead me to believe he is a very time based character. Such as his ability to freeze time, the pendulum in his domain, and the clouds moving faster when he is in an area.

Not to mention the couple of times things blur in his domain. (Possibly him moving in front of them or messing with them)

And when he moves quickly in front of the camera.

I also use this scene to suggest him being heavily time based.

Where Sebastian says “It’s ticking, but the pendulum’ s stopped…”

So really, my theory is not that Stefano is moving very fast, but that he is going at a normal pace and is slowing things down around him. (Or something like that)

[miscellaniaofself]

As you may have already heard, I’ve finally managed to acquire full-time work! Because I have four plus years of job-searching under my belt (including A LOT) of interviews, I have some pretty weird/bad stories...and I wanna share some of them with you. Some of them have to do with the people interviewing me, some of them have to do with the building, and some of them have to do with just...other things that went wrong.

FOR INSTANCE:

Before my first interview for a non-work study job, I went searching for brown shoes to match the outfit I intended to wear for the interview (which was very “I’m a grownup, I promise!” Matching blazer and everything). I found some cute flats at Goodwill that seemed to be in good condition and was so excited about them. Sure enough, as I started walking to my interview (the location was about 15-minute walk away from where I lived at the time), the bottom of my new-to-me shoes started sticking to the ground as I was walking. Huh, that’s odd, I thought. I guess they have something sticky on the bottom. Nope.I get to the interview, fold one of my legs on the other, and realize that “the sticky thing” was, in fact, the bottom of the shoes. So I spent the entire interview trying to be comfortable without putting my feet on the ground. The bottom of the shoes literally fell apart as I walked home and I was forced to just throw them out.

 I showed up to an interview once to be told (after like, 15 minutes of waiting) that the person who was supposed to speak with me wasn’t there. Turns out that she had a family emergency and forgot to let me know she wouldn’t be in.

I walked to an interview in sneakers once, changed into flats, and hid my sneakers behind a house plant elsewhere in the office building.

I got stood up for a phone interview. We set up a date and time, but I never got a call from them. I tried sending them an email (I didn’t have a phone number) and got no response.

It’s become pretty normal for me to not hear back from people after an interview (phone AND in-person interviews), but there was one time several years ago when I had an in-person interview, wrote a thank you email with follow-up questions, and received a follow-up email about that...but never got an email back about whether or not I got the position. And then they reposted the same position on the same job board where I had found it.

I had a phone interview the day after The Election. It started with “How are you? Aside from -- you know.” We were both dead inside.

I had a phone interview with someone who was DEFINITELY chewing gum at the time.

I had to do an interview over Skype at like, 6:30 PM, because that was the only thing my schedule and location allowed for.

Someone offered me a part-time job during the interview with the hours already established - and they were times I couldn’t do because of one of the jobs I currently had (this was when I had two internships). I needed to tell her that and cut the interview short.

There have been a lot of interviews were people asked me a ton of variations on the same question, but I had an interview earlier this year in which I met with three development folks and the HR person separately. The HR person talked about her decor for a solid couple minutes before asking me several of the same questions (wording and everything) I had just been asked by her coworkers.

I went to an interview once that was three hours away from where I lived at the time; I took three different buses to get there.

I almost went to an interview even further away (in Melrose), but the interviewer cancelled on me RIGHT when I was about to leave (like, I was literally saying goodbye to my roommate at the time). Because he decided to hire someone else.

Sidenote: It really pisses me off when people arrange an interview with me (or say that they will) and proceed to hire someone else without meeting me.

Someone offered me a part-time job at the end of another interview. I took the job; this was my position at IPPNW. The office dog also unveiled himself during the interview, having run out of a coworker-to-be’s office and run past the glass-walled conference room, stopping to say hi. I literally said “OH MY GOD, A DOG!” out loud. My predecessor-to-be thankfully took it in stride, chuckled, and said “The office puppy is a new addition.”

In other pleasant news, I had an interview somewhat recently in which the interviewer and I spent a while talking about cats.

THE MOST NOTABLE INTERVIEW STORY:

I walked into the building where I had an interview. The building was huge, which I was not expecting. There was a doorman, which I was not expecting. I checked in. There was a very large vestibule area and there were five floors. I was not expecting any floors; neither the website nor any of the emails mention which floor they’re on -- so I needed to awkwardly call interviewer in the vestibule and ask where they were. I heard birds singing Oh cool, I thought Somebody has birds in the office. Maybe it’s a science thing? Remember the birds; we’ll come back to them.

I got into the interview. You know when you go on a first date and neither of you are feeling it? It was like that. The atmosphere was weirdly corporate and austere. This organization was essentially a company that matched nonprofits with consultants. I asked them what kind of nonprofits they worked with. One of the two women interviewing me (the only one to answer the question) talked about their revenue. This is something that I am 0% interested in and was in no way relevant to the question I had asked.

    After that awkward-ass interview, I leaft the building. On my way out, I went out of the vestibule and into the entry hall area (this building was fucking huge). The birds got louder. I turned my head. The birds were live birds incorporated into an installation art piece in the entry hall. Fucking weird.

THE SECOND MOST NOTABLE INTERVIEW STORY:

    I arrived at an interview for what seemed like a pretty good job at a pretty good place.

    The first thing the ED said to me was that five people had left the position so far; she didn’t know why. This is Giant Red Flag Number One. She needs to print out the job description for me DURING THE INTERVIEW. Like, goes to her desk and prints it out while talking to me about the position. This is Giant Red Flag Number Two. Giant Red Flag Number Three is just that she reminded me of one of my supervisors, who was an extreme micromanager. Thankfully, she offered the position to someone else (or I likely would have taken it for financial reasons). And the position was reposted like, a month later. Will she ever conduct an exit interview? Who knows.

Notably Weird places I’ve done phone interviews:

Inside the Downtown Crossing location of Davids Tea (because it was raining).

Both inside and outside of Fleck Coffee Shop (where Jon works).

On the fire escape of Marlboro North (a dorm at Marlboro with notoriously bad cell phone reception...or at least it used to have notoriously bad cell phone reception. The fire escape was the only place where the call wasn’t dropped). This same interview almost needed to take place on a train. Thankfully I was able to figure out a different date with the interviewer.

One of the bathrooms in the building in which Earthwatch is currently located.

At an outdoor table across the street from the building in which Earthwatch is currently located (because the interview was right before I needed to go into work).

The events department supply closet in the basement of the Boston Athenaeum.

I’ve also conducted phone interviews at partners’ places and Jon and Maggie’s place...but those are a little less weird.