#the sketch for this was staring at me for like 2 weeks im so glad its over

[fazbearcorporation]

decided to screw around with brushes :} very fun!

reblogs are appreciated <3

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

This is a request by @asterio14 hope you like it sorry it has taken me so long to write your request.

Another Spencer Reid X Teen convicted reader.

This is not related to all to my other Spencer Reid x prisoner teen reader completely different.

Request: Both Spencer Reid and Reader are serving life sentences at adult prison. Reader has already served three or four years. is a character who doesn't mind being in prison, perceiving it as natural habitat. He is the one welcoming Spencer into his new home. The reader is put in for Arson but accidentally killed someone.

Third person pov...

In Millburn Correctional Facility a H/C teen sits in his cell, the cell itself wasn't very large but he still had a sink, a usable toilet, small plastic mirror hanging on the wall, a small bed with a thin cover and single pillow.

Opposite another bed but with no one staying in it, 18 year old Y/N had been in this correctionally facility for 2 and a half years for arson and accidental homicide, when he was 16 he stupidly played with matches and accidently set a barn on fire and the owner happened to be inside the barn.

He tried to save them but was already dead when Y/N dragged them out. Since he got sent to prison, he has been a model prisoner and was allowed curtain things others weren't, such as books to read and a sketchbook to draw in.

After a couple of months the teen got used to being in prison, as he was a minor he was sent for a juvenile centre then when he turned 18 was sent to this correctionally facility.

Currently the teen was sketching on his bed, humming a song he liked, his back lent against the wall his knees up so prop up the sketchbook for him to sketch.

A guard knocks on the barred door alerting the teen, he glanced awa from his sketchbook then back just as quick. "Prisoner L/N, you've got company" calls a guard, Y/N just gives a thumbs up to the guard but doesn't move, by now the guards know the teen enough that he wont move when they open his cell.

Once the door was closed, he looked up and saw a man. "Guess your my cell mate then" he says, the guy was young looking with longish curly hair with a young but haunted face, he was tall and lanky around 6ft.

The man just stares at the kid, Spencer was first surprised at how young his cell mate was, the kid didn't look older than 20, he had H/C hair and E/C eyes, he was wearing a white t shirt and the prison uniform pants the shirt was hung up.

Y/N gives the guy a friendly looking smile. "Yo! I'm Y/N, nice to meet you" he says Spencer is glad he doesn't hold his hand out for a handshake, Y/N goes back to his sketching.

Spencer then sits down on the opposite bed, he was glad to be moved into these smaller cells and away from the public ones he was first in, Spencer watches the boy before realising he didn't introduce himself.

"Im Spencer Reid, nice to meet you Y/N" He says, the boy only smiles and gives the man a thumbs up. Over the next few days Y/N and Spencer got to know each other.

Y/N tells him why he was in prison and Spencer explains his story about him being an FBI agent and how he got blackmailed and put in prison, 3 weeks later they had bonded like brothers.

Y/N told his tragic backstory of loosing his Mum at a young age and having an ass hole of a dad, who neglected him and didn't tell him what was right or wrong so he went with anything.

Spencer was sympathetic to the kid and told him about his dad leaving him and his mum alone. Y/N laughs making Spencer look over at the teen. "We both had shitty Fathers then" his words makes Spencer laugh as well.

"I suppose we do" he mutters into the darkness of the cell.

12 weeks later, Spencer has been released from Prison but his team and Mr Scratch is no more, for his last day and night Spencer spends it with his new friend and brother Y/N.

After dinner the two sit in their shared cell, Y/Nsat on his bed and Spencer sat on his own, it is silent until Spencer gets up from his bed and sits next to Y/N on his.

The teen currently had their head in their knees not looking at Spencer, he had been secretly hoping the this day wouldn't come so soon, when Spencer goes he would be alone again.

Spencer fidgets awkwardly before breaking thr silence. "I'm sorry Y/N, but I've been found innocent by the Judge I have to go" he tries to reason with the teen.

Y/N keeps his head in his knees not talking, Spencer sighs and sits suddenly Y/Ns pulls him into a tight hug that he couldn't seem to want to let go off.

Spencer frozen physical contact was not his thing, The teens arms shake as they hug the older man tightly, Spencer relaxes slightly and hugs the teen back.

He will miss the young kid alot and will always be thinking of him.

The end!

So sorry for thr wait I didn't have alot for this oneshot so sorry that it is alot shorter than thr usual 1000 + oneshots, I've been busy with my classes and trying not to burn out from everyone and thing.

As usual so sorry for the grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Worr count: 960

[monsterenergysimp]

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader 

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you 

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.  

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

    shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

    i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

    NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats  super cool actually

    i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and       youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

    [link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

     No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

     I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?  

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

    xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

[imherebabycakes]

SHEABUTTABABY🍯🍫 pt3

donnie\femreader tmntbayverse 14/16 the guys are 20+

*i do not own anything tmnt*

i didn’t proof read a damn thing😂(sorry)

my oc’s name is Blaze,Neptune Marie

24

military veteran

a black woman from the south side of washington dc

she’s 5’5

has light grey eyes

black wavy hair *bra length*

lets just say she’s the type of woman you’d see in king magazine. she fire 🔥

loves trap, the 90’s hip hop r&b as well as Jamaican country

chill & laid back, can twerk also

……………

so there we stood, the purple masked terrapin & myself , blushing at one another looking dumb as hell

ehemm…..are you to okay? raph say’s staring at me & his brother with a sly grin on his face.

umm yea…..yea im straight, i say almost instantly snapping out of a trance, and perking up as if i wasn’t just imagining donnie kissing me all over.

donnie! you good? mikey asks

oh yea mikey im…uh never better donnie answered. obviously lying through his gap teeth.

i peep the scene and its hella awkward and stuffy even if being outside.

well guys, umm it was nice to meet y’all but i better get home,im jhi tired…

jhi? what does that mean? mikey asks with a slight giggle.

well in dc its slang & we use it to emphasize a few things but in this case it just took the place of the word really.

ohhhh wow thats so cool, i love dc slang its different

im glad you do mikey,

but guys i do have to get gone. i got work in the morning unfortunately. as i got my stuff in the car i pop back out an ask , umm do you guys wanna link up again or is this just a one time thing?

well idk, will you tell people of our existence? asked leo hoping right in face , a little to close but i guess this was his attempt at coming off threatening . which wasn’t working at all

i chuckle to myself as i slide a little to the left to get some space between us,

“nah man i wont tell a soul” thats my word.

he looks me over and huffs “yea well see”,

almost immediately they ascend back to the roof tops disappearing into the night. 

see later sexy chocolate!!! mikey yelled

shut up mikey !! the rest

them yell in unison.

………….time jump…..2weeks later

it was now friday 5:30pm finally free from the plantation i call work. while walking to my car i thought about a few things, like i loved my job as an SPO, working at Children’s hospital  but my real passion is fashion design and today my sergeant caught me drawing a few sketches while on duty and grilled me for it.

she can kiss my black ass and i mean it , i cant stand that old bitch it wasn’t even that serious to be honest .

walking out of the elevator and into garage towards my car all i could think about were those four unique brothers out of my head, Especially the tall one in purple.

now that i think about it i didn’t even get his number, shit i been out the game for a while , but its cool i’ll see them again one of these days….. right?

i sigh and push all those thoughts to the back of my mind. i threw my sketch books and gear in the car and drove off.

about 25 minutes later i sluggishly enter my cold apartment kick my shoes off,lock the door then proceed to my bedroom. i plopped down my lush king sized bed, looking at the ceiling lost in my thoughts of the full day i had and the next thing i knew i fell asleep.

i woke up around 10pm realizing i had fell asleep in my clothes, i reluctantly made my way to the bathroom where i ran the shower to get it nice and hot to my liking, while stepping in the air/steam relaxed me even more, damn this feels good, i needed this….

donnie pov

its been almost 2 1/2 weeks since we’ve seen blaze.

patrols have been the usual not alot of foot clan activity a few attempted muggings but nothing has really changed.

but i noticed that i couldn’t concentrate on any of my work since i seen that Beautiful woman.

i couldn’t get her out of my head, i mean i’ve been with other women before, yea they were mostly in the police department but still. hell i’ve even had a girlfriend once upon a time.

it was something special about blaze, and i honestly think its because she a black woman.

to be honest i i’ve always been with a white woman or latin or asian and i don’t know much about black women or culture for that matter outside of rap & r&b music that i listen to.

or what the media sometimes portrays but im not one to judge and everything is not what it seems so i don’t stereotype people. i mean i wouldn’t have room to judge anyways im a mutant turtle for crying out loud. i sigh slumping in my chair, i don’t know what to do.

you should go see her bro,im sure she’d be happy to see you again, she seems cool even though i didn’t think you’d go for her type say’s mikey

umm……mikey first off how long have you been standing there listening to me? and secondly whats my type?

long enough to know you got the hots for blaze…..look bro she likes you man.

i saw the way y’all looked at each other. she fine as hell but you know usually go for white skinny girls like april.

you know the runway “model type”. & blaze is the opposite she’s got body oddy oddy for days he said laughing.

you cant handle all that wagon she’s draggin ,but you better get on that and wife her up before i do… he says slyly.

oh please mikey she doesn’t want you , your to immature for a woman like that and plus her having a curvy body doesn’t matter to me in fact that’s actually what i like about her

yea ok Donnie, im not the one who needs convincing , you’ve fucked only skinny white, latin,or asian woman only . you sure blaze isn’t just some fetish for you bro?

what!! of course not mikey i’ve only fucked those other women because thats all thats around us, people usually date who’s in close proximity to them you idiot. if more curvier women lived around here black woman included then maybe i would date them.

umm bro sorry to burst your bubble big bro but the thing is, black woman mostly definitely are around, and there’s alot that work in the police department to . open your eyes dude and admit you have a type he says laughing and walking away

damn he got me stumped… i…i guess i do, well did have a type but obviously not anymore. i gotta see Blaze again.

turning to my computers i figure its time for some hacking and background checking.

(blazes pov)

…..

after that lovely shower and hot meal, i decided to sit on my balcony with some wine to look out onto the city. as im sitting there, i think about my life and whats ahead,like how i love fashion and design, and my dream is to be big time designer. but how will i get there.

just as I’m pouring another cup of wine my phone starts vibrate uncontrollably then all of a sudden a greenish hologram of green bean Donatello pops up

“hey there, its ummm Donatello you know the turtle guy!?….anyways umm well i hope im not interrupting anything. i’m a bit of a computer whiz & nerd hence me hacking in your phone .  I just wanted to say that you seem cool and I would like to meet up again sometime if that’s OK with you?

that’ll be great donnie i don…..

THIS IS A RECORDED MESSAGE !

HIT 1 FOR YES OR 2 FOR NO!

THIS IS A RECORDED MESSAGE !

HIT 1 FOR YES OR 2 FOR NO!

all right all right!. sheesh give me a second , feeling a bit stupid because i thought it was a live conversation . (hits 1) “you’ve chosen number 1, please stand by for follow up text.” then like turning off a tv the hologram of him shut off

!Bing Bing Ding!

damn that was fast as shit donnie, you really wanna see my sexy ass huh i joke. i open my phone and the text read

hey blaze this is donnie again, im glad you said yes, if you can, please meet me at the same spot where we met at 7:30 pm 2 blocks away from the double take on saturday. well im looking forward to seeing you😂😅

i chuckle to myself at the thought of he’s such a nerd, but a fine ass one, and i’ve honestly been thinking about this for weeks now. not knowing what he wants to meet up for specifically i don’t know what to put on. I want to look good but I also don’t wanna overdo it. aw who am i kidding i look good naked, he’ll like me in whatever. plopping on my bed i drift off to sleep with the wonders of whats to come tomorrow.

mmmmm…. donnie!

(Donnie pov)

yes yes and hell yes!!! i screaming and squealing while fist pumping in my lab chair,

whoa i say getting overwhelmed i have a date, well not a date date. but we’re meeting up! got damnit its a date thats unofficially officially a date! 

omg omg omg this is amazing…

wheeeew,wheeeeeeew….calm down donnie this is not your first date, relax buddy i say to myself. its honestly not my first date but with a girl like her it might as well be. I wonder what we will have to talk about she’s so much different than girls ive dated before, down to her her body ,skin tone ,her lingo and where she’s from. sitting down on my bed, i sigh and lay back with only one thing on my mind, in the words of Tpain

IM SPRUNG!!!!

…time jump 3pm next day…..

( blaze pov)

I don’t know why I’m so nervous this man has me sweating like a hooker in church, not wanting to do too much I just do what drake said. put my hair tied up and chill with no make up on. and if he really fucks with me like he says then he’ll see that I’m beautiful naturally. but in the meantime all this planning gotcha girl hungry I think a quick meal will suffice nothing too heavy though, probably like a BLT with some chips because i don’t want the bubble guts on the first meet up.

time jump 7:28pm saturday night

(donnie pov)

hopping on the roof, i stare at the city below me, i got here with 3 minutes to spare. blaze should be here any minute now. well i might as well sit and wait and sing.

(start singing his version of ushers “nice N slow” )

its seven o clock on the dot im on the root top, looking at the city,….i’ve got a real pretty pretty black queen that im waiting to see, when she pulls up, ill be anticipating, her good looks, damn she’s amazing, i got plans to my hands on her waist,looking up to see if she’s really feeling me!! let me take you to the park where its quiet, there ain’t no one there to attack us, i can feel the rush, cuz i just wanna get to know you more…… blaze tell me what you wanna do

(blaze pov)

pulling up to the same spot i almost got robbed at made me uneasy, but since donnie was meeting me here i knew i was okay. i do one last look in my rearview mirror to look at my hair and face. and like i said earlier, I kept it chill and i put on my favorite black juicy sweatsuit & my black & white Jordan 12’s and my hair was in a messy bun. and i couldn’t forget my mouskatool. getting out the car i start to text donnie to let him know im here, when i hear singing and beautiful singing at that, i slightly walk into the alley where i hear the melody an look up to see my green bean singing what sounded like ushers nice and slow song

i didn’t want to startle him so i let him continue, & what i heard next made a shiver go down my spine, not only could he sing well but if im not mistaken he’s singing about… well me!! at least i hope he is. unless its about another black queen. not wanting to waste any more time I shoot him a text.

you sound amazing!….and am i a queen to you? 

(donnie pov)

hearing my phone go off I figure blaze is on her way but to my horror i see,

 **you sound amazing!….and am i a queen to you?**

which means not only was she here but she’s been here and not only has she been here she heard me singing and not just singing but singing about her. naturally my heart went to my ass and i felt my stomach tighten immediately. im so embarrassed. then i hear blaze say

**YO Rapunzel let down your hair! she says laughing. c’mon down here song bird or should i come up there?**

ummmm no ill come and get you give me a sec. i flip down and see blaze staring at me smiling at me with those beautiful grey eyes and she has cute button nose. wait when did she get a nose piercing? has that always been there?. man does she look stunning , i mean she’s effortlessly beautiful, her hair was in a messy bun and she had a simple but cute track suit on that hugged that body of her’s sheesh. baby got baaayyyack . snapping out of it i realize she’s leaning in for a hug, OH SHIT HUG HER YOU IDIOT*

hugging donnie i say, damn i didn’t know you had pipes like that green bean, you sound amazing. you remind me of a 90’s r&b singer,i love that. noticing he’s in a daze i snapped twice in his face, hello earth to Donnie are you there? “oh my bad blaze, sorry i got distracted. can you repeat what y said please?

shaking my head laughing i repeat myself. donnie i said your singing is amazing man. and what did you get distracted from that fast?

honestly blaze….. well..i got distracted by…umm… y-your beau…hmp…. I GOT DISTRACTED BY HOW BEAUTIFUL YOU ARE!!

going wide eyed by his raised voice and words , i just give a sly smile and say. like wise





[poptod]

hi i wanted to know if you wrote for webb porter? if u do, can u do a webb x reader where the reader is his psychiatrist? not fluff but not angst either. something in between perhaps. surprise me with the plot! you always do anyways. thanks and i love your little elliot drawings!

notes: okay 1. thank u im glad u enjoyed the sketches, 2. i hadn't watched alcatraz before but i just watched it so i could write him and I gotta say, it really freaked me out how many similarities there were between me and him (except for the whole being a murderer thing and stringing bows with the hair of his victims). this is my first time writing psychopath characters. anyway, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!

WC: 1.7k

+

It was a bit of an honor, really – none of your friends would agree with you, but working with something so strange, so new, and so, so interesting was always an honor. It wasn't like your friends said anything. Probably because they didn't know, since the Incident was 'top secret'.

The prison, in all its steep, sharp majesty, stood before you. Its height nearly blocked out the grey sky. The men leading you said nothing, and you followed when they opened the door inside. From outside one of the doors you saw the cells, all stuck together, kept in a sterile, white room. You swallowed thick and turned back forward, hand clenching around your bag as you mentally prepared yourself.

You didn't say much. Neither did he, so for the first five or six minutes, you watched him. His behaviorisms, the tics stuck in his restless limbs. Pushing against the floor, flexing fingers, uneven, hurried blinking. Classic signs of discomfort. You couldn't blame him.

"I've read a lot about you," you said in a soft, humming voice that had his eyes flickering to you before landing on the closed notebook in your hands. "I know what they think of you. Do you want to clarify anything?"

He said nothing, returning to his fidgets.

"I also heard you enjoy music," you continued, pushing your hand into the bag sitting on the floor beside you. He watched with curious eyes as you pulled out padded headphones, setting them on the table beside you, before pulling out an older iPod. "I know you've got your violin, but sometimes I find it's nice to listen without having to play. Lets me study."

"How does it work?" He asked, his voice cracked and soft. It was hard to make him out.

"Bluetooth. Connects without a wire," you answered with a half-smile, proceeding to explain the rest of the technology. The guards wouldn't just let you waltz in and give a prisoner a wire, after all, and the extra cost didn't hurt you too terribly.

He didn't really start talking till around the third appointment, which for a patient of his type wasn't all that bad. Even then he kept that soft tone – so low, so smooth, almost like the music he so avidly listened to. You could feel your fingers tightening over your arm rest when he spoke.

"I just wanted to play for people," he mumbled, pinching at the skin of his jaw. "Do you know what that's like?"

"Yes, actually," you said, earning the mild, held-back interest of the prisoner. He stared at you, and with a deep breath, you explained yourself. "I wanted to dance for people. Then I was diagnosed with Meniere's disease, and now it's a struggle to stand. I know what it's like to want something and never be able reach it."

He stared at you with wide eyes. You were starting to get accustomed to the sight of that.

"I also know it's good to start something you can do. Something achievable that can benefit yourself, maybe some friends, maybe groups of people. Some find that comfort in writing, or baking. Things like that," you said, knowing full well he wouldn't take your advice. Still, it was best to suggest something anyway.

The seventh week of sessions with him, appointments twice a week and each an hour or so long. That's how long he let you stay. If it were up to you or the warden, the sessions would be around an hour and a half, but if you tried to push it he would fall silent and listen to none of your words.

"I know this seems a rather foolish exercise," you said as you held out a drawing pad and a pencil, "but it does help some people. It doesn't have to help you, but I think you should give it a try. Just draw anything you want."

Hesitantly he took them from you, holding them in his lap as the eraser edge of the pencil tapped against his cheekbone. Folding your hands neatly on your own lap, you waited patiently for him to begin, a keen sense of curiosity keeping your attention. His head twitched to the side twice before he got sick of it, shaking his head to clear it out. Only then did he begin.

He kept the pad angled so you couldn't see his drawing. For about ten or so minutes he stuck to that activity, beginning to enjoy it about halfway through. When he leaned back, he examined the drawing, drawing a shaky breath as he handed the pad and pencil back to you.

Full body sketches, filled with lines and shadows that didn't quite connect. It looked as though he'd drawn it seven times and erased it six, but as the shapes came to fruition, you found the actual image he had drawn.

Himself in a suit. Nothing too grand, a plain one with one button on the blazer. You were more interested in the second figure beside him – a seated one sitting in front of a grand piano, their eyes closed and hands poised delicately over keys you couldn't see. At the other end of the piano was where Webb stood, his eyes closed as well as he danced to the music humming from his violin.

"You're a pianist, aren't you?" He asked, his voice still low and soft. You paused, looking up at him.

"Yes," you answered quietly. You hadn't ever told him that. "How did you know?"

"Fingers," he said. "You don't tap rhythms. You play them, and your fingers are stretched. You've been playing since you were a kid."

"Also correct," you said as you tried desperately not to give away your discomfort and amazement.

Two appointments later and he started to tell you about yourself. You reminded him gently that these sessions were for him, not you, but the words seemed to not have processed in his head. He just kept listing things about you – things you never told him, things not obvious about you, things your friends and family didn't even know.

"How long did you play bass for?" He asked one afternoon, his finger set against his lip.

"Orchestra in middle school through high school," you said despite not wanting to answer. "I was never any good at it, though."

"Too big?"

"... yeah. Mr. Porter, this isn't -"

"Where's your tattoo?"

You froze.

"I don't think it's appropriate for me to answer that question. How about you tell me about the people here? Do you get along with them?"

"They like my music," he murmured, his eyes directed at your own but staring through you.

"It's nice to have that," you said with a small nod.

Your home was a place of comfort with few windows and double locks on the doors. The only weak spot was the backyard, which was walled in. It'd be easy to break the glass of the wall into your living room, but you made the expense for 'unbreakable' glass, and in the evenings you felt thankful for that decision. You could sip at your tea without worry, turning on the TV and surfing through the many shows.

Despite being curled up for an evening of relaxation, your notebook sat beside you, open to the page of your most recent patient. A pencil sat in the dip of the binding. On commercial breaks you set aside your cup and picked up the notebook, flipping through the pages and trying to figure out exercises that would be good for each person. For Webb you made the special effort to think beyond your specialty. There were a number of things you wanted him to try – painting, stories, baking – just some senseless, harmless activities. Alongside that were a couple tests you could give him once he was ready.

"Even got your piano right," you heard a voice from behind the couch, making you shoot straight up and whirl around, the blanket around your shoulders falling forgotten on the floor. Webb stood in your open living room, his fingers tracing over your black grand piano seated in front of the wide open windows.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in a surprisingly firm voice, broken only by your concentration to get your phone out from between the couch cushions.

"I needed to see you," he spoke softly, almost airy in his tone as he stared at you with empty, grey eyes. When you moved he took a step forward. "I know you're going to tell them," he said, looking you up and down, "but I can't let you do that."

You ran. The front door was so close to you anyway – you assumed you could reach it before he could reach you, but your legs were weak. You'd always been weak, and now he reached for you, grabbing you by the ankle and dragging you across the wood while you did your best not to cry. You did shout, though – hopefully your neighbors would hear, but halfway through your second scream he tore his sleeve, tying it around your mouth.

Writhing on the floor, you felt him push your chest down, swinging his legs so he straddled you. As you began to hyperventilate he pulled rope out – your rope – and tied your hands together.

"It's so easy," he breathed out, and you assumed he was talking to himself. You tried to speak, but with the gag, nothing came out but whines and moans. "You're so easy to... hurt," he murmured as he leaned in, his breath coasting against your cheek, highlighting the tears that fell unwillingly.

"You'll be good for me, right?" He asked of you, caressing your face with his hand, the other dug into your stomach's pressure point to keep you from moving.

You almost sobbed, but instead you tried to form words. Again, nothing but mumbles and cries came out.

"Shhh," he said in a soft, almost comforting voice. A shiver ran through your body, convulsing in your anxious muscles, trying to kick with the legs he sat on. "I won't hurt you," he murmured, leaning even closer to you, till his face rested in the crook of your neck, pressing gentle, fluttering kisses along your skin.

His hand reached from your cheek to your hair, tugging on it so harsh you let out a choked cry.

"We'll make beautiful music," he mumbled. "My violin, your piano, and you can sing... we'll be beautiful."

[yoonlixstars]

Enemies To Lovers Hyunjin ff pt 2

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader

Genre: Idk hate to love(?)

word count: idk

Note: Im sorry it took so long for me to write this, also yes i am copy and pasting this from my wattpad. so im sorry if theres any mistakes. but yea also last time. on the part 1. i noticed i forgot a part. so lemme explain. in that scene y/n’s friends which are blacpink approach her. (blackpink hates hyunjin too. not in real life, just in this fan fiction) and they talk and then they go to class. yea all that. and if i end up forgetting a part. ill say it in part 3 (if there will be one). okay yea thats all. enjoy this story! and i saw i got 12 notes on my skz reaction thank you so much! it means a lot to me♡

You walked out of the classroom, head hung low and disappointed at yourself for getting in trouble by Hyunjin again. Meanwhile in the classroom.

Hyunjin's pov: I was thinking of y/n and I started feeling kinda bad, I mean, she's in detention cause of me, and i always caused her trouble.

Hyunjin then raised his hand. As he was planning out what he was going to do when the teacher saw him. "Hey ugly!" He all of a sudden shouted, the whole class turning to look at him. The teacher also turned around, with a shocked and angry look on her face. "Hwang Hyunjin repeat that and you will get detention for 1 week straight!" The teacher shouted, her face was red as a tomato, but she wasn't blushing, she was mad af, Hyunjin smirked and once again said "I said hey ugly!" The teacher was now breathing heavily, "HWANG HYUNJIN, TO DETENTION, NOW!" Hyunjin was now glad he achieved what he was planning. Hyunjin got up proudly and started walking out of the classroom. Ready to see you in detention.

y/n's pov: I sat down in a chair, waiting for a teacher to come in. I then heard the door open. I thought it was a teacher until i turned around.

Hyunjin entered the empty classroom. The first thing that his eyes spotted was you, sitting down in a chair while drawing in your sketch pad.

You turned around. But instead you saw Hyunjin. Your face was showing visible confusion. "Don't ask, I just felt bad." (ˢᵖᵒⁱˡᵉʳ: ʰʸᵘⁿʲⁱⁿ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ʸ/ⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸ/ⁿ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ʰʸᵘⁿʲⁱⁿ)

"Yea right." You said that while rolling your eyes. "you 'felt bad'." You glared at him. As he took a seat next to you.

You resumed working on the drawing on your desk. But you felt like someone was staring at you. You looked to your side to just see Hyunjin gazing at you. "W-what? Is there something on my face?" You stuttered saying that. His gaze was making you loose your mind.

"There's nothing on your face." Hyunjin responded. His lips curving into a smile. After he said that. Everything seemed awkward again. Until your stomach growled. You felt kinda embarrassed he had to hear it too. His soft chuckle filled the room. "Here, i brought a sandwich." He said. His hands digging in his school qbag until he found the sandwich he was talking about. But you were shocked. That was the first time Hwang Hyunjin a.k.a your enemy, has been nice to you.

"Here, i found it." He offered the piece of food. You stared at it. Wondering if you should accept it or no.

"Do you want it?" He asked.

You were about to say no. But you were too hungry. And gladly accepted it.

A smile once again appeared in Hyunjin's lips. Wondering why he has been mean to you, all of these years. Instead of becoming nice friends. He decided to be like this to you. He was staring at you once again. Not noticing for how much time his eyes were glued on to you. Until you finally noticed it again. “Why do you keep staring at me?” You asked, but he just said nothing. “Are you hungry too?” You asked him, offering his sandwich back, which was almost done. But he replied with a “nothing, wanna hear a joke?” (a magical 15 minute time skip.”  You and hyunjin were now laughing a lot with each other

Just talking about random stuff and funny moments that happened to one another

You actually never knew hyunjin could be like this

You always thought he was just some jerk. But now that your actually getting to know him,

You realized you were wrong.

He then stopped laughing and said your name.

“Hey y/n?” you looked at him, and just hummed in response.

“Can i confess something?” You once again a hummed a yes. Curious at what he was going to say. 

(Im not good at writing confessions. so you could make up your own, i will still write a short one.)

“Y/n, i like you, i mean, love you. i know you wont believe me since i have been awful to you all these years but the reason why i did that, is because i was afraid you wouldnt be friends with me. so thats why i started bothering you. its okay if you dont feel the same way i und-” 

you cut him off with a passionate kiss. (magical 30 seconds time skip)

he was the first one to pull away. He was blushing and you found it very cute. “S-so does this mean you like me too?” He asked, and he started looking like a tomato. 

“Of course silly!”

You smiled at him, and he returned it back with a warm smile, he was starting to lean in for another kiss but it got interrupted. 

“WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING ON THE FLOOR?!” You and Hyunjin quickly stood up, looking nervous as hell. “u-um, we were-” The teacher cut you off. “I DONT CARE YOU WILL STAY IN HERE FOR THE REST OF THE DAY, AND ON SATURDAY YOU ALSO HAVE DETENTION!” 

You and hyunjin both looked at each other, and shrugged. 

I mean at least he got to stay with you?

okay and then you and hyunjin started dating, your friends were shocked but soon they became friends with him too and yea okay The End. 

also there wont be no part 3, i finished the whole story in this part even tho there was gonna be more :(

and this is not proof read so sorry for any mistakes. also after this i might post another skz reacting to their s/o because the last one got like 22 notes i dont remember but yea i hope you enjoyed this story! 

[miru667]

Your art gives me feels! I like how at first sight the pic is "oh handsome oncie yeah" but then you see lil lorax's paw and just "oh wow now that's deep". Also love the colours and the shading - everything's so real and attractive and still toony and well stylized - miru you rock! (oh oh and the song totally slaps)

Oh geez thank u so much!! ;o; I spent over 2 weeks working on that drawing, so ur msg rly made my day o-/-< I hope it’s ok if i ramble a lil bit on the technical stuff here!

I didn’t think to include the lorax until halfway thru, but im glad i did, oncie’s looking way too smug there haha. I think I quite enjoy seeing the lorax try to rain on his parade as i’ve drawn it several times before, e.g. [link] [link]

I also originally wanted to colour it way differently...i wanted a bright saturated bg and all the figures in the foreground were gonna be dark and stark, but my eyes couldn’t handle it so i went with something more gentle to stare at since i knew i was gonna be spending a lot of time on it and i didnt want to torture myself LMAO. the colour scheme ended up looking like a house plant near a sunny window, but i kinda like that way? ^^ And the white lighting is something that started as an experiment in my audrey drawings [link] [link] i personally love the effect so much...i hope i can get better at it! ;v;

When I started the pic in 2018 I ended up shelving it at its sketch stage cuz it was giving me a lot of trouble; it was only after 2.5 years of drawing rp/oc stuff that i felt confident enough to give it another shot (cuz i dont like leaving things unfinished) and i ended up redrawing almost the entire thing 😅

IM GLAD U LIKE THE SONG! it came out during when i was working on the pic and i looped it a lot (as well as the hamilton soundtrack)

[descendantofthesparrow]

Part of your world - Harry Hook x reader - Part 15 - talk

a rewrite of the harry hook x reader that @bluediamondsevie wrote for me

summary: a who doesn’t love the Disney World, well, (y/n) especially loves descendants, and one day, as she dances in her kitchen getting ready to head out. 17-year-old (y/n) becomes part of that world, now a certain blue-eyed pirate meets the girl from a world where he is a fictional character and he has an actor named Thomas Doherty.

 Key:

 h/c- hair color

 e/c- eye color

 h/l- hair length

 s/c- skin color

 y/n- your name

 your stuff

---

You were glad to get that off your shoulders, the relief of knowing you no longer had to ignore Harry was exhilarating. Now you sat at one of the tables, waiting for Harry to return, Uma stalked around the shop, taking and dropping off orders.

You sighed and dug through your bag, withdrawing your sketchpad and pencil, opening to a blank page.  You sat for a moment, not knowing what to draw before inspiration hit you, and you began to draw.

10 minutes later, a pretty goddamn good looking sketch of Harry was on your page, from his diamond cut jawline to his soft fluffy hair, it was Harry.

Specifically, it was Harry from a week ago, when you, Uma, Gil, and Harry were chilling on the deck of the revenge, and Harry had laughed at one of Gils jokes, and you had locked the memory of his face in your brain (as you have done many times) and now you had sketched it out. It was one of the few times you saw the true harry, not harry hook, son of captain. Without the eyeliner and hook, he was just a 17-year-old boy who was kind and loving to the people he cared about. But to others, he was a psychopathic, bloodthirsty, and uncaring.

But he wasn’t like that, not really.

He was the boy you loved, you would never leave his side, not if you could do anything about it.

--- Mal pov---

“okay! Okay, so what are we gonna do?” Jay asked, silencing Evie and Carlos, all three looked at me, and I rolled my eyes.

“we!” I spoke, stalking over to them and grabbing my bag “are not doing anything, this is between Uma and me, and shes a punk and guess what?! Now I have to go and get him!!”

Carlos quickly tried to stop me, holding his hands in front of him “woah woah woah, you’re still going to have to go through harry hook and his wharf rats”

“Yeah,” jay jumped in “besides, in the short time we've been here, I've heard Umas got a new crew member that took down Hook, you’re gonna need us”

I rolled my eyes, Hook wasn’t that hard to take down,…I hoped, he was one of the few Villains that scared me.

“Uma said to come alone”

“Mal come on.” Evie pleaded, I just made a face and shrugged, Carlos sighed and made his final statement

“Uma said to come alone. I know one thing, I’m not going anywhere” Carlos flopped onto the couch, looking up at the three of us. Jay sighed and said; “we’ll be here when you get back.”

I just nodded and started to walk out.

--

I arrived at the chip shop and slammed open the doors, seeing shrimpy tossing orders to her patrons, not caring if they were correct or not.

I smirked when she looked up and locked eyes with her, I sang out; “im back~” shrimpy scoffed, and gestures to an empty table

“loser party of one, right this way, please” as I walk forward Shrimpy shoves a chair at me, I fumbled to catch it and she laughed cruelly.

I sit and look around, it still stunk like old fish and shit.

“place still stinks”

Shrimpy made a face of innocence “oh im sorry, we were down a butler today…princess” I glared, hating the name.

“where is he?” shrimpy only laughed and tossed her apron onto the floor, grinning at me.

“you know I've dreamed of this? You wanting something from me, and me watching you squirm like a worm on a hook~”

“im so flattered that you dream of me, I haven’t given you thought since I left”

Shrimpy growled and slammed her hands on the table, but I wasn’t paying attention anymore, my sights had locked onto a girl.

A girl with (h/c) (short/long) hair, and (s/c) skin, she turned slightly to look at shrimpy, and I recognized her as the girl I saw on the rooftops earlier today.

‘Oh, so shes apart of shrimpy’s crew’ Mal thought, turning back to shrimpy, hiking her hand on the table, prepared to not lose ben to the sea bitch ‘that makes it easier’

---

Fuck! Shrimpy wanted the wand in exchange for Ben, shit.

“there's no way we can give Uma the wand, we can't just let her destroy Auradon!!” Evie forced out, panicking over the situation.

“if we don’t give her the wand bens toast” Carlos ground out, Evie just waved her hands around still panicking “great! So we're just gonna give Uma of all people the wand!” a thought came to my head, Carlos’ printer!!

“wait, you guys!! Your 3D printer!”

Carlos’ eyes brightened and he smiled “ a phony wand” “yeah!” “im my sleep!” Evie stopped us with logic “but the second Uma tests it, she’ll know it’s a fake”

“then we’ll just get Ben out really fast we’ll need some kind of diversion” the four of us Sat for a second before Jay jumped in “smoke bombs” I grinned and pointed at him, Evie jumps at the idea “that’s perfect! I’ll get the chemicals we need at lady Tremaine’s place, that could work!”

Evie walked over to me and complimented my hair, I gushed that Dizzy did it and Evie squealed, but the boys brought us back down to earth.

“Oh, one more thing!!” Evie, Carlos, and Jay stopped, looking at me in confusion.

“remember the girl the FG wanted us to find?” they all nodded, clearly remembering the picture of the (h/c), (e/c) girl.

“shes apart of Uma’s crew, when the smoke bombs go off, who ever’s closest to her, grabs her.”

They nodded.

“we’re sending her back home, no matter the cost”

--- back to you---

You were finishing another sketch of Harry, though this time Uma and Gil were apart of the sketch. It was a sketch from a week ago, just like your last sketch, but this was when you were sitting across from the trio and the sight of them being normal teenagers instead of vk striving to escape their hell hole had burned into your memory.

As you finished the details of Harry's hair, you felt a presence behind you. Glancing behind, it was one of Gils brothers…the one you first encountered on your arrival to the isle.

He smirked cruelly and tore the sketchbook away from you, you growled and tried to grab it but he held it above you, laughing.

“come on girly~ don’t you want your book back?!” you snarled, jumping trying to snatch it, when the oaf grabbed your waist and pressed you against his chest, making him smirk at the squish of your chest.

“let me go you fuckin cunt”

“oh such a dirty mouth, don’t worry, I know how to clean it~” you paled at his remark, as he glanced down at his crotch, and then at your mouth. Disgusting.

“tell ya what, if you do a little something for me, I’ll give you back your book, if you know what I mean”

You quickly tried to wriggle away, but his grip held tight, and he cackled but stopped when a hook was pressed against his neck.

You sighed in relief, Harry was here.

“I suggest ye put the lass down ye Gypit Hoor” Gaston jr gulped and released you, but he still had your sketchbook and Harry noticed, he gripped the wrist holding the book and twisted it, Gaston gasped and released the book, it fell to the floor. You rushed to grab it and shuffled behind Harry.

Harry growled in Gaston jr’s ear and whispered something. He paled and nodded, Harry huffed and released him, Gaston took the opportunity and bolted.

You sighed and flipped open the book, checking for damage. Luckily only a corner of the cover was scuffed.

Looking up you saw Harry gently gazing at you, you could see the question in his soft ocean blue eyes.

‘are you okay?’

You smiled and nodded. He smiled back and tilted his head, raising his eyebrow.

“Now lass, ye said ye wanted to talk?” you nodded, but reached out and tugged at his jacket nodding towards the door.

“yes, but in private, its important that this is only for your ears”

Harry's eyes widened and he nodded, following you out the door and to the ship, as you walked side by side, you didn’t notice Harry glance at your free hand, he bit his lip, wondering how you would react.

Fuck it.

Shyly reaching out, he brushed his fingers with yours, you jumped slightly, and with that he retracted, his face pink.

You glanced at his face, seeing his embarrassment, he-he wanted to hold your hand?

…fuck why is he so cute!...

Knowing he lost his nerve to do it again, you reached out and curled your pinkie around his.

Harry turned red, only thinking ‘holy shit holy shit holy shit, im holding (y/n)s hand holy shit’

Soon you arrived at the ship, but even when you entered your room, Harry didn’t release your hand. Continuing to lock his fingers with yours.

“sooo” Harry mumbled, curious on what you wanted to tell him “what did ye want to tell meh?”

You froze, oh right…tell him who you really were.

You sighed, releasing his hand and taking a deep breath.

You looked up at Harry, who was staring at you in confusion and concern.

“what I am about to tell you is not to leave this room, understood, this is a secret between you and me.” Harry nodded, and his eyes turned serious.

You internally smiled, glad to have his support back. Now, to tell him. Just let it out in one go.

“I’m not from the Isle” Harry made a face, what?

“im, not an Auradon runaway either” Harry swallowed harshly. What was going on? Did-did you lie to him the entire time he knew you?!

“im from a different dimension where you are a character from a movie called Descendants 2”

Harry only stared at you, you lied to him? Pain started to seep from his chest “wha’- wha’ about yer ma? The one ye told meh ye escaped from?”

“im sorry but I lied to you about that, I didn’t know how you react to suddenly meeting a girl from a different dimension?! Tell me to harry what would you have done if I immediately told you who I really was?”

Harry's pain decreased, dear god what would he have done? Meeting a girl who knew the ins and outs of this world?

“i-I would have takin’ ye hostage and forced the information out’ve ye”

You nodded hurt by knowing that Harry would have hurt you just to get information about his world, to rule over it.

“s-s, but how do I know ye are telling the truth, for I know ye are just pulling me leg?” you were prepared for this, fishing your phone from your pocket, you unlocked it and opened the page from earlier. “Thomas Doherty”

You handed the phone to harry and his eyes widened at the identical boy on the screen, he saw beneath the picture was a description.

“Harry Hook played by Thomas Doherty”

He quickly pressed the images tab, seeing multiple pictures of the actor who looked exactly like him, before stopping at a picture, one of Him Uma and Gil, all standing on the stage, Uma and Gil grinning at each other, he himself was glaring at Gil.

“wh-where are ye?” you sighed, shoulders slumping, “im not there because im not supposed to be, im technically supposed to standing in front of you right now actually”

Harry nodded slowly, glancing back down at your phone. He sighed walking forward and bumping his forehead on yours, making you slump in relief and you fell into his side.

“I understand lass, but” you drew back slightly looking up at his face, confusion, and pain set on it.

“why did ye ignore me?”

Releasing a shaky breath you slowly revealed what happened, though some reasoning was changed.

“I told Uma bout me being from another world, and” “wait Uma knows?” “yes, I told her yesterday.” “alright continue”

“anyway, and I realized something, you and I had become really close, and I thought that if I left this world, you would be hurt by it, and so to spare you the pain of that, I started to ignore you. But Uma kinda cornered me and told me something that changed my mind, and now…here we are.”

Harry nodded, before seeming to think something over.

“(y/n)?” you hummed, looking into his eyes “what do ye mean ‘if ye leave this world’ ?” you sighed and hugged yourself, “there's a chance that Im forced back into my world”

Harry growled, like hell that would happen, he just got you back!!

“but” Harry stopped, what? “I won't leave your side, not if there's anything I can do about it.”

Harry nodded and seemed to ponder over something for a minute. Before holding out a fist, his pinkie finger extended. And he spoke in a slightly broken voice

“ye promise?” you didn’t hesitate, threading your pikie with his, smiling at him, determination in your eyes

“I promise”

As you both stood there, you saw Harry's eyes flash towards your lips, your eyes widened slightly, what?

Harry began to lean in slightly, you ignored the condescending voice in your head, leaning in as well, but before anything really happened, the door slammed open, and there stood Uma, a proud grin on her face.

“come on you two, we gotta go over the specifics of the plan for tomorrow with the crew”

She turned and made her way back to the deck. You and Harry stood there for a moment, faces red, before Harry broke away from you, walking to the door, you stared sadly at his back, thinking you had gone back after the awkward moment just then, before he stopped and looked back at you, extending his hand, and smiling softly.

“Shall I escort ye me lady~” you giggled and grasped his hand letting him lead.

“you shall~”

Dear god, you hope you never had to leave this handsome pirates side~

 ---end of part 15---

Comment or message me for part 16

taglist:

@namelesslosers

@crazybutconfidentaf

@lukes-princess

@starrykitn

@marvel-ousnesss

[whatmack]

are you continuing 'im not making u eggs' :D

Anonymous asked: hi its ur crackhead mattneil anon again :))) r u rlly gonna leave us all hanging like that (also i think u forgot to tag the 2nd part of im not making u eggs) 

Anonymous asked: VOFMSKCN ’VE OW JVKW JS WHY DID U LEAVE IT THERE U HEATHEN

@lunylovegoodlover asked: Your mattneil fic is KILLING ME like OH MY GOD like THEYRE SO SOFT and WHAT GOOD HEALTHY COMMUNICATION THEY ALL HAVE i love them all so so so much. Everything about that series is so soft and perfect and lovely, I’d kill for more of it whenever your fancy strikes. (like seriously though I’ve basically been staring at my laptop in shock for the last five minutes trying to process how much I love this)1) YELL HEAH I AM listen despite knowing before I started which couple was endgame I’ve been riding this mattneil train since day 12) HELLO HELLO and thank you! It should be fixed now?3) ;)4) YOU’RE SO NICE GOSH HELP communication is so! good! A lot of what I write has to do with communication, or miscommunication, I’ve been realizing. It’s so important!

“Hah—wh—n—yeah?”For a terrible moment Neil thinks Skype has cut out for his confession. Hegathers himself to say it again. Matt forestalls him by leaning forward, the crinkleof the blankets loud over laptop speakers, touching his fingertips to the outsideof the camera as if he’s holding Neil’s face. “You, um. Like. You mean like…like?”Neil fists his hands in his lap. Matt has cut right to the heart of it. It mustbe easier for him to think that way, all heart as he is. If Neil’s stomach keepssquirming it’ll wiggle right out of his body, maybe down a leg first to beextra uncomfortable. “I think so? I want to kiss you. And I like spending timewith you. And you’re…you look good.”Especially now, in a threadbare t-shirt that clings to the definition in Matt’schest, the yellow light from his bedside table warming the angles of his face. Neil’snot used to this. It’s similar enough to how he feels about Andrew for him torecognize it, but it’s not the same.Less edge-of-the-world. More…lazy Sunday morning. Though lazy Sundays withAndrew are some of the best parts of Neil’s week, so that division doesn’t makesense.

Neilcan’t define how he feels about Andrew. Has never been able to, to hissatisfaction. He just knows that the feeling is there. Maybe if he’d tried harder to categorize it, he’d be able tofigure out how he’s feeling right now, about Matt.Sensing the beginnings of a headache, Neil presses his fists into the seatcushion through the gap in his crossed legs and pulls back. He first thought ofAndrew in terms of actions; actions are something Neil understands. He wants to kiss Andrew. He enjoys kissing Andrew. He wants to kiss Matt. He likesholding Andrew’s hand. He likes holding Matt’s hand. He likes going places witheither one of them, or both, the few times Andrew has agreed to it. He likessex with Andrew. Does he want–Warring answers clash in Neil’s chest, sending his head spinning off. There’s ajubilant, hungry yes that presseseager pictures of Matt’s smile, his hands, his body, reminds Neil how good itfeels with Andrew, whispers that Matt would be good as well. It batters againsta spike of fear so sharp Neil can’t breathe. It’s not only the memory of hismother’s slap. It’s also his general unfamiliarity with non-Andrew-related desire, thecertainty that despite Andrew’s permission he’s not supposed to feel like thisfor anyone else. It’s not how he’s put together. He’s been silent for too long. Matt has messaged him, the text popping up belowthe pixelated worry sketching wrinkles across his eyebrows, digging lines oneither side of his mouth and poking dimples in his chin.  Neil can u talk to me?

Kinda worried about u

Neil?The panic ebbs, notbanished but content to wait. This is Matt. Matt is safe, warm, giving. Hemight have answers Neil doesn’t, but even if he doesn’t, he’ll help Neil findthem. Neil unclenches his aching fingers and rests them on his knees.

“Do you?” he asks.

Relief breaks across Matt’s face. Neil knows Matt hasn’t heard him over thereassurance of him speaking again, so he repeats himself. The pencil lines ofMatt’s expression rearrange themselves. Thoughtful; holding back. Internally,Neil shakes his head.  The most neutral faceMatt is able to make is a beaming grin.

“Do I want to….” Matt’s lips close in the shape of a kiss. He touches the backof his hand to them, and then blinks and looks away, embarrassed at thegesture. Neil’s not sure why. “Uh. I mean if you’re down?”

His voice cracks. Matt jerks a hand up to cover the bottom of his face. Neiltilts his head. He’s never seen Matt be shy.

It’s fascinating.

“Sorry,” Matt says, muffled by his hand. “Never—actually.”

“You cut out for a second,” Neil says, and Matt swears. He sounds more likehimself as he lowers his hand to try again.

“I just said, I never thought this would happen.”

Neil frowns. “You thought about it?”

“Dude,” Matt groans. He flops back onthe pillows, tipping his image back and forth. Neil’s glad he doesn’t getseasick. “I might have been thinking about it for a while.”

His face is hidden by his pillow and the angle of his chin. Neil doesn’t thinkit’s an accident. “Why?”

Matt’s eyes appear as he cranes his neck. He’s got his t-shirt pulled up overhis nose. Neil misses the sight of his mouth until he notices that Matt’s bellybutton is now exposed. It’s a sight Neil has seen more times than he’d honestlylike to, but this new feeling welling up inside of him urges him to stare. Theskin there looks smooth, a patch of tiny curls meandering down into Matt’swaistband. Neil wonders what it would feel like, to touch. Would the musclesjump if he tickled? What if he scratched, lightly like he does to Matt’s head?

“Hey.” Matt’s voice is gentle. He comes out of his shirt, friction working onNeil’s side for once in his life and keeping it rucked up. “Do you want this tochange anything? It doesn’t have to.”

Neil nods, firm. Of this he’s sure. He wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t want his words to have an effect. He’s too good at hiding forthat. Unfortunately, that’s where the sureness stops; Neil doesn’t know whatkind of change he wants to happen, just that he wants something. And hopefullyit can involve kissing, but that isn’t necessary. He stares at Matt through thecamera helplessly, wishing he could pierce the miles between them and lean againstMatt’s strong chest, rest in the knowledge of Matt’s breathing and that thingsare, for the next few hours at least, going to be all right.

“How about…um. Can I take you on a date?” Matt bites his lip and then smiles,boyish exuberance trickling back into his frame. He sits up against theheadboard and takes the laptop with him, gesturing with his free hand. “When Ifirst got signed Dan and I used to do these video dates. I’d still like to takeyou out for real, but it’s not that far off from the real thing, we can dressup and everything…” he sees how Neil’s not moving and with visible effort calmsdown. “If you want that. We can do something else.”

“I’d like it. The date,” Neil says, feeling a bit topsy-turvy himself. He’sonly vaguely sure what people do, on dates; he and Andrew don’t tend towardsthat sort of thing, or if they do, it’s more one of them dragging the othersomewhere and them insulting each other and seeing how soon they can get the maître-d(or cinema worker, or park concert usher) to kick them out. Neil has never regrettedthe lack of traditional romancing. It’s a pointless ritual when he and Andreware already wrapped past each other’s deepest twistings. But with Matt….

Matt is so excited, and Neil feels himself pulled along. A small spark ofanticipation pricks under his breastbone. “We can try it.”

“Great!” Matt beams at Neil, and Neil finds himself blushing. Starting to workout why Matt’s smile is affecting him differently now hasn’t dampened thereaction. If anything, it’s made it stronger. “Now where’s my little boy?”

Neil recognizes the distraction tactic for what it is, and is grateful for it.There have been too many feelings for today. He relates the story of the newkitten’s latest exploits to Matt’s rapt attention, which runs right into Mattsharing the story of the puppy he saw on the way to the gym this morning, andthey exchange subjects until Neil gives a cracking yawn and Matt demands thathe go to sleep.

“No,” Neil says, to be contrary.

“What if it will make me feel betterif you go to bed?”

“Guess you’ll never find out.”

Matt laughs. Matt’s laugh has never made Neil feel excluded, the way thelaughter of other children did when he was younger. No, Matt’s is aninvitation, and Neil is smiling without really knowing why. “Okay. Goodnight, babe.”

There’s a slight hesitation before the babe,and it makes Neil want to wrap himself in his bedclothes and hum. He raises hishand to wave as Matt mimes a video fist-bump, and then cuts the call.

It seems he’s got a date.

[sadrien]

prince of cats

chapter five: to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss

on ao3 || on ffnet 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 

hey everyone, how was your week!

posting wise, we've passed the halfway point of what i currently have written (i have through ch9 written at the moment). i'll hopefully write most of the rest of the fic in august, just at the moment my productivity writing wise is down because i've been drawing a lot and listening to taz!

enjoy!

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      just letting u kno that i hate my boyfriend

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      Thats a lie and you know it      Whats he making you do

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      >:(      hes making us go out to dinner with his moms

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      Oh THIS dinner

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      yup

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      First of all I talked to Nino about it last time you brought it up and its just a normal dinner      His moms just want to spend time with you two From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      ur sure From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      Absolutely      Alya you love Ninos moms      Theyve basically adopted you

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      ur right      im just tired      ninos really excited so i was worried im missing something or am gonna be surprised by something

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      As far as I can tell its just a normal dinner      No surprises just Nino being Nino      And the answer is to take a nap when you get home from work      Did you not sleep much last night?

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      nah i was working on a project      until like 3 cause i hate myself      nino had to drag me to bed

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      Thank god for Nino

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      yeah he haaated me last night      speaking of cute boys tho

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      Alya oh my god

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      im sorry uve been friends w adrien for how long now??      3 weeks??? more than a month?? literal years!?!!?!??!?!      u talk about him all the time when r we gonna meet him

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      Eventually!!!!!      I promise I just dont want you scaring him away

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      nino and i r great we dont scare ppl

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      uh huh

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      shut up      also get me his last name

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette puts down her sketch book. “Let’s go to the store.”

Adrien looks up from his laptop in surprise. “What?”

She’s gotten used to weekends with Adrien. He doesn’t expect her to look nice or even all that presentable, and she doesn’t expect him to, they just sit on the couch or in the kitchen and do their own thing. Adrien usually works, because he literally never stops working, and Marinette designs. She forces him to watch her favorite shows with her, even if it means that she has to explain to him who every single character is and the entire plot. In return, he’s managed to get her to watch some of his favorite movies. He randomly shows up throughout the week if he needs something from her kitchen because he always seems to be short something. Marinette is genuinely considering giving him a key to her apartment. Even if it’s just so he can steal from her fridge and cabinets.

“The store.” She pulls her hair up into a messy bun and grabs her purse off the back of her chair.

Adrien stares at her like she’s grown another head.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want, but if you need anything, you should.” She gestures toward the door.

“What do you need?” he asks, apparently having found his voice.

“Fabric,” she says, ticking things off on her fingers, “some thread, ribbon, watercolor paper, brush markers if they have any, and pizza.”

He laughs and runs his hands through his hair. “I do like pizza.”

Marinette picks up her keys. “So are you coming? Because if you aren’t I should probably kick you out.”

“What?” Adrien asks as he stands. “You don’t trust me?”

“You might steal my Jagged Stone poster,” she says with a shrug of her shoulder.

“Fair enough.” He pulls on his coat. “Show me the way.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette opts to walk to most of the stores. She asks Adrien if he minds and he just shakes his head and pulls his phone out of his pocket, sending a few quick texts as they make their way down the stairs and out of the apartment building.

“Where are we going exactly?” Adrien asks, pulling the door open.

“Fabric store first,” Marinette says, stuffing her phone into her purse.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you have fabric at work?”

“Yes, but you’re missing the point— turn here. I don’t have fabric at home. At work, I do stuff for the head designer and my boss. I have much more creative freedom when I’m at home.”

“Huh.” Adrien flips his phone over in his hand. “Interesting. I know nothing about fashion so…”

Marinette smiles. “I sort of figured.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know much about how any sort of normal jobs work. I’ve got it relatively easy.”

“Working from your apartment and living off of take out?” she asks innocently.

Adrien rolls his eyes. “Yes exactly.”

Marinette elbows him lightly. “You’re very lucky you have me to teach you how to bake.”

It’s a nice day, not too hot and not too cold, without too many people walking around the streets. She finds herself wishing that she had more free time to spend outside, that she still had a balcony like she did when she was growing up. She misses having time to herself, where she could garden and sit outside and sew. It’s too nice to be stuck inside all the time.

Adrien accuses her of taking the long way and she doesn’t defend herself.

She holds the door open for Adrien when they get to the store, letting the far too cold airconditioning billow out onto the sidewalk.

Adrien wanders around in a sort of daze as Marinette pulls out her sketchbook and meticulously looks for the exact shade of blue that she needs.

“You needed ribbon?” Adrien asks, suddenly popping out of nowhere.

Marinette squeaks and jumps back with a start, dropping her sketchbook in surprise.

“Sorry about that,” he says sheepishly before bending over to pick up her sketchbook. He hands it back to her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She takes a few deep breaths before taking the sketchbook from him. “It’s fine, you just surprised me. Easy to do when I’m concentrating.”

“What are you looking for?” Adrien asks, leaning closer, tilting his head to look at the page she has her sketchbook flipped open to.

“A blue,” Marinette murmurs, pointing to a swatch of fabric she stole from work and taped onto the page. “I mean obviously I have a type of fabric in my mind, I’m just really desperate for this shade of blue because—” Well…she doesn’t actually have a reason. She’s just attached. And that’s silly.

Adrien hums to himself. “Okay,” he says after a moment. And then he vanishes into another aisle.  

Marinette stares at the space he was occupying for a long moment before shrugging and moving on. She decides she’ll find the blue later and starts looking for white lining. She pulls a bolt from the shelf, feeling the fabric between her fingers. It’s a little heavier than she would like, but if she can’t find anything else, she can make it work.

Adrien steps out from around the corner. “Would this work?” he asks, holding out a bolt of blue fabric.

Marinette blinks and takes it from him, running her fingers over the satin-like fabric. “This is…this is perfect, actually.”

He shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “I have a lot of experience with lots of types of fabrics.” He ignores the confused look Marinette gives him. She has questions, but mostly she’s just glad she doesn’t have to rethink the entire color scheme of this outfit.

Adrien watches over her shoulder as she chooses ribbon and nods as she rambles on about what she’s making. He doesn’t look like he understands what she’s saying to him, but he’s listening and that’s enough.

Marinette estimates how much fabric she needs and Adrien hums to himself as they get the fabric cut and check out.

“What did you think?” Marinette asks as he pushes the door open for her.

Adrien blinks in the bright sunlight and glances down the street before looking back to Marinette. “It was nice,” he says. “Overwhelming, but strangely calming.”

Marinette laughs. “That sounds about right.”

“Where to next?” Adrien asks with a tilt of his head.

✦ ✦ ✦

“Know anything about art?” Marinette asks as she pulls open the door to the art store.

“Hardly,” Adrien says with a crooked smile. “I don’t know anything about most creative things. I know music and that’s kind of where my creative talents end.”

“Music?” Marinette asks. He’s never mentioned anything about music before, though he hasn’t mentioned many hobbies or talents in general.

“Piano,” he specifies. “Took lessons for years, my parents insisted.”

Marinette leads him toward the markers and paints. “So you must be pretty good, huh?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Nowhere as good as my father would like me to be, but I’m passable.”

She rolls her eyes. “So that means you’re fantastic.”

“It really doesn’t,” Adrien says with a laugh. “But thanks for your faith in me.”

Marinette studies the brush markers, trying to decide what brand to get and how much money she’s willing to shell out today. Adrien amuses himself by uncapping some of the markers and trying out the testing markers while she Googles reviews on the internet. He’s flipping through an anatomy book when she decides on a set of markers and moves on to paper. She’s running low.

Marinette wanders further down the aisle where the sketchbooks and papers are. She feels someone’s eyes on her, but when she looks up, she sees a worker at the entrance. Marinette picks up a pack of watercolor paper and hums to herself. She still isn’t sure if she likes this paper, but she has very few options she can afford.

Adrien holds up a copic marker. “Why is this seven euros?”

She blinks at him. “Because it is?”

He squints at it. “It’s just a marker?”

“It’s a copic marker,” she says, like that will explain everything. Judging by the expression on his face, it doesn’t help at all. Marinette takes the marker from him and puts it back with the others. “It’s alcohol based and fancy, that’s why it’s expensive.”

Adrien looks at the case of copics in wonder. “Why would you spend so much on a marker?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette says. Adrien raises his eyebrows and she just shrugs. “I don’t usually use them. I don’t need nice markers and I don’t exactly have a lot of money to be spending on things I don’t need.”

“Fair enough,” he murmurs. He narrows his eyes at the copic. “That better be one magical marker if I’m paying seven euros for it.”

Marinette snorts. “Lucky for you, you’re not.”

Adrien gives her a lopsided smile. “Yeah, that’s true. I’m no Picasso. I think the best I can do is a stick figure.”

She elbows him lightly. “I’m sure you draw beautiful stick figures.”

Adrien laughs and for that moment, Marinette’s world gets a little brighter and her heart starts to sing.

✦ ✦ ✦

“Have you ever had pizza here?” Marinette asks as her and Adrien wait in line to order.

“Mostly I just get whatever will deliver,” he admits.

“You don’t leave the apartment much, do you?” she teases.

Adrien rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t usually need to.”

“Do you know what you want or do you just want the same as me?”

“Let’s go with the latter.”

Marinette orders her usual and pays before Adrien can offer, rejecting it when it does come. “My treat,” she says with a smile.

They sit in a booth by the window with their pizza and bags.

“Careful, it’s hot—” Marinette warns, just as Adrien burns his tongue.

“Ahhhh—” He sticks his tongue out and makes a pained expression.

She hides her smile behind her slice, but Adrien catches it and glares at her. She just shrugs. “I tried to warn you.” As she picks up her slice, someone catches her eye.

They’re watching her and Adrien out of the corner of their eye. They make eye contact with her and quickly go back to whatever they were doing on their phone. Adrien hisses in pain, bringing Marinette’s attention back to their table. “That was a mistake.”

Marinette opens her mouth to reply. The strange feeling of someone’s eyes on her passes through her and makes her freeze up and she looks back to the person who was watching them. They’re packing up their things and heading out the door.

“What is it?” Adrien asks.

Marinette shakes her head. “Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew. I was wrong.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Been there, done that. I’ve walked up to people thinking I knew them before. I did not.” She winces. “It was incredibly embarrassing.”

“I can imagine,” she says, taking a careful bite of her pizza.

Adrien eyes her. “Am I going to burn my face off this time?”

Marinette snorts and lowers her slice. “I think you’re okay now.”

“If I die, my blood is on your hands,” he says seriously.

She rolls her eyes. “Pizza isn’t going to kill you, I promise.”  

✦ ✦ ✦

Adrien trails behind Marinette on the stairs, writing a quick email and carrying one of her bags.

“Come in for a minute?” Marinette asks as she pulls out her keys.

“Hm?” Adrien asks. He glances up from his phone. “Oh! Oh yeah, sure. I left my laptop on your table, anyway.”

She shakes her head as she unlocks her apartment. “You have to have more of your stuff at my apartment than your own.”

“It’s called minimalism,” Adrien says seriously.

Marinette frowns as the door swings open. She glances over her shoulder to Adrien. “I didn’t leave the TV on, did I?”

Adrien shakes his head. “We didn’t have it—”

“Hey!” Alya shouts from the couch.

“—on…” He trails off and hangs back by the door.

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s one of my friends. Trust me, I regret letting her have a key to this place,” she stage whispers. She shuts the door once Adrien has stepped inside after a bit of hesitation. She leaves her bags on the table before joining Alya, and apparently Nino, in front of the TV.

Nino pauses whatever show they’re watching and returns to the Netflix home screen.

Marinette crosses her arms and leans over the back of the couch. “Why are you in my house?”

“Apartment,” Nino corrects lightly.

Adrien snorts from where he’s standing awkwardly in the kitchen. He puts Marinette’s bags down on the counter and closes his laptop before holding it to his chest.

“I’ve got a present,” Alya sings, holding up a box.

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Is this payment for breaking and entering?”

“It’s not breaking if you have the key,” Nino points out. He continues to flip through Netflix. “Can’t argue the entering though.”

Alya smiles brightly at Adrien, but Marinette doesn’t miss the way Alya’s eyes sweep over him, taking in as many details as she can. “Hey, stranger!”

Adrien lifts a hand awkwardly, still hanging back by the door.

Nino leans back and nods at Adrien. “Yo, join the party.”

“I should—” Adrien gestures to the door.

Alya jumps up from the couch and hops of the back. She grabs Marinette’s arm as she breezes by, dragging her over to Adrien.

“Alya,” Marinette hisses, attempting to dig her heels into the ground as Alya pulls her along.

“I’m Alya!” she announces, holding out her hand to Adrien. “Marinette’s best friend.”

Adrien hesitates for a long moment before he shakes Alya’s hand. “Adrien. Marinette’s…” his gaze slides to Marinette before snapping back to Alya. “Her neighbor.”

Marinette tries to keep her blush from burning too brightly.

Alya shakes his hand eagerly. “Great to meet you!”

“Nino!” he shouts from the couch. “But I was working all day and I’m tired so sorry, dude, I’m staying put.”  

“It’s fine,” Adrien promises. “I really should be getting back. Plagg needs to be fed.”

Marinette nods and pulls away from Alya. “Yeah, of course! Let me just— I’ll show you out.” Alya puts the box into Marinette’s hands winks. Marinette gives her a little shove toward the couch as Adrien pulls open the door.

“You didn’t have to show me out,” Adrien insists as Marinette quickly closes the door once they’re in the hallway. She leans against it so Alya can’t look out the peephole. “I’m sure I won’t get lost on the way home.” He gives her a small smile.

“I wanted the chance to apologize for…them.” Marinette waves at the door behind her. “Mostly Alya, but both of them. They can be a lot.”

“They seem nice,” Adrien says, and Marinette still can’t read him well enough to know if he’s being sincere or not. “What did they get you?” He gestures to the box Marinette is awkwardly holding.

“Pastries. They’re from my parents’ bakery,” Marinette says quickly. “Tom and Sabine’s— they’re my parents. That’s me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom and Sabine.” She swallows and glances down at her feet. That was a little too much rambling.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Adrien repeats softly. “You have a beautiful name.” He’s smiling when Marinette looks up at him.

She bites her lip. “Th-thank you. What about you, what’s your last name?”

“Kersey,” Adrien says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk. “Adrien Kersey.”

“A nice name,” Marinette says, running it over in her mind. Alya will kill her if she forgets it, but Marinette is fairly certain it’s burned into her brain forever.

“Thanks, my parents chose it,” Adrien jokes. “I’m just stuck with it.” He pushes open his door. “You’ll have to take me to your parents’ bakery sometime. I bet it’s great.”

“Sounds good,” Marinette murmurs as Adrien lifts a hand and disappears into his apartment. When the door clicks shut behind him, she sags against her own door and lets out a sigh.

She really doesn’t know how to handle this boy.

Alya and Nino are staring at her when she reenters the apartment. Marinette feels her face burn as she closes and locks the door.

“Not a word,” she says, putting the box from the bakery down on the kitchen counter.

Nino mimes zipping his lips shut.

“No words?” Alya asks. “Are you sure? Because I have so many words.”

“Yeah, he’s hot,” Nino says.

Marinette glares at him. “Thanks for not saying anything.”

“Alright, now that we are saying things,” Alya says, twisting around on the couch, “where were you? You don’t leave the house without us.”

“I leave the house!” Marinette protests.

Nino raises his eyebrows. “To have fun?”

Marinette turns away to put her keys back.

“Oooo,” Alya drawls. “Silent treatment.”

“It wasn’t fun, anyway,” Marinette says. “I had errands to run.”

“That you decided to run with a cute boy,” Alya points out.

“That sounds like fun to me,” Nino muses.

Marinette glances over her shoulder at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side here?”

Alya gives her an offended look. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“I’ve known him longer.”

“Touché, Dupain-Cheng,” she says, narrowing her eyes.

Marinette sighs. “Speaking of last names…”

“You got it!” Alya shouts, jumping up from the couch. Nino tries to shush her, and she grabs a pillow and covers his face with it. “Tell me tell me tell me— I want to Facebook stalk him.”

Nino pulls the pillow away. “Who uses Facebook anymore?”

Alya turns to Marinette with wide eyes. “Is he secretly a wine mom?”

Marinette stares at her for a long moment. “Why are we friends.”

Alya throws the pillow across the room.

Marinette bats it away and says, “If you want Adrien’s last name, maybe you shouldn’t be throwing things at me.”

“She has a point, babe,” Nino agrees.

Alya sticks her tongue out at him before patting the cushion next to her eagerly. “Come on, Mar! I’ve waited a literal month for this.”

“Hm…” Marinette taps a finger against her lips. “Maybe I should keep you waiting.”

“Marinette!”

“Fine!” She drops down between Alya and the arm of the couch. “His last name is Kersey.”

Alya yanks her phone out of her pocket and starts typing rapidly.

Nino leans forward to look Marinette in the eye. “How long do you think she’s going to be at this?”

“A long time,” Marinette admits.

“Wanna see what Disney movies are on Netflix?” he asks, picking the remote back up. “We put some takeout in your fridge for later tonight.”

“Sounds good to me,” Marinette says. “I need to do a lot of nothing before work tomorrow.”

Nino types in Disney and starts scrolling through the results. “Are Zoé and Dorian still arguing about that thing?”

“If you’re talking about that jacket thing from a few weeks ago, they’re over that. If you’re talking about fake leather, they spent like an hour ‘debating’ that on Friday.”

“Fake leather,” Nino says in wonder. “Why were they debating that? I thought this collection was all like…dresses and stuff. Flowy soft things. What does fake leather have to do with that?”

“Nothing.”

Nino stops clicking through movies for a second. “I don’t understand you people.”

Marinette sighs and sinks against the back of the couch, pulling a pillow to her chest. “Neither do I,” she murmurs.

[corasanheart]

Not a useless person

Fanfiction based on: Mob Psycho 100

Category: romic and angst

Pairing: Tome Kurata/Tokugawa

                                                                   Chapter 1

“Telepathy club is hereby disbanded”.

Her words echoed in her head again pushing more tears on her cheeks. Tome was passing winter break mostly like this, closed in her house in front of many books left casually open. After her parents went away for a travel in the suggestive sight of snowy mountains, (they do not take her because it was for her best she stayed to study) the house fell in a total silence broken only by her sighs. She was thinking at the time wasted on doing nothing with guys that didnt care about her at all. Tome founded her club with a deep desire, maybe crazy or creepy, but in which she truly wanted to believe. She was glad to share her passion with other people thinking maybe they are interested too. Fool! Who is so fool to believe in aliens? And telepathy too… They were only searching a club where laze around without any specific goal to think about and yeah.. the “telepathy club” seems the better to fit with this. Tome was the only one enjoying this club all this time. And so this is finished leaving her with an empty mind. Three years of any memories. Now at least she had to make up for study. There are so many things she didnt understand yet. Finding an alien maybe its easier…

Tokugawa approached the house and looked closely at the little sheet in his hand. “This is the address. I wonder whose..”. He glanced at the doorbell and read “Kurata”. That rang him a bell but he just couldnt remember where had heard it. He just pushed it and waited. Someone opened the door as fast as closed it. - What the.. what happened?-.      The girl, actually Tome, just shouted -Why are you here?!- “Maybe he knew I was continuing secretly the club” -I’ve already disbanded it if you wanted to know that!- with the voice little broken. Tokugawa remained silent for a moment elaborating -What club?- “She has to be the one from the Fake club” -Aah that club. I’m not here for that. Anyway it occured months ago.. why do you come up with that so suddenly?-. She opened a bit the door and mormored something. Then just said -Enter-.

Tokugawa sat properly on the sofa and released a deep sigh before of starting to explain. Tome just sat quite far from him unsure on what expecting. -I’m here for this-. He put a piece of paper on the little table in front of them. -You, I suppose, left this message on my school desk in which you beg me for help you to study and there is also your address-. Tome blinked her eyes several times before answer: -I didnt do that! And I would never ask for YOUR help-. -Ah..So do you have any idea of who could have done it? I dont know, someone who might thinks you need my help-. Tome startled. -I dont know..- “someone who cares about me?!” -It must be a stupid joke! So I think you can leave now-.                    Tokugawa was watching her carefully in silence.

-What? Are you listening??-.

He just said seriously: -I will help you-. -Whaaat?! I dont need it!-

“She’s got marks under her eyes. She was crying. Is so desperate for the exam?. I cant just ignore it”.  -I dont think so-.

-You are so stubborn, I told you I dont need any help!-

-Tome..-

-Indeed I just cant stand your presence in my house in this moment-

-Tome..-

-And I can manage to study on my own. Ive already all under control-

-Tome..-

-So dont get worried for nothing and..-

She stopped in fear after has noticed tokugawa creepy face.

-Just shut up Tome -

Tome gulped “Maybe I should call the police” but then just mormored an -Ook-. Then she guided Tokugawa to her room. He sweated a bit “Why she invited me to her room so suddenly?! It’s so naive. If I was another guy I would have taken advantage of the situation. Lucky her, im not interested..”. When he entered the room paralyzed. “What on earth..”. Tome’s room was fully painted with a Universe pattern and covered with strange psychedelic posters of unearthly things and some pieces of old newspapers about ufo apparitions. While on the floor there was a mess of colourful packages, some of them containing every sort of snack and others just being garbage. “This is way more shocking of Kamuro’s room”. Tome sat at the desk trying to put some order. Tokugawa came closer behind her.

-Sorry there’s only one chair. Did it bother you?- she said. “Yeah maybe this convinces him to leave”. “She is just too lazy to bring me a chair from the living room” -No Im ok like this. So in what subject do you have more problems?-.

“All of them but I dont want to seem stupid or like I need help” -Im ok with everything like I said, but math..-. -Mm let me see-. He took the math notebook from Tome’s hands. Tome froze. He took a quick look to all her notes and exercises to judge in which seems in more trouble. Then he return the book to Tome.. after using it to hit her head. -Is plenty of nonsensical sketches. Can you just pay attention to the lessons, cant you? Anyway firstly I’ll help you with basic and symple notions and then with exercises-. Tome foreshadowed a huge headache for this.

It seems like Tome wasnt in a desperate situation. She managed to solve several exercises (Tokugawa’s advices on some of them were of help too, she had to admit it). -Now come the difficult one-. Tome remained with a ‘what’ face. Tokugawa wrote down the equation. Tome, trying to regain confidence, started to fill the paper of scribbles that could fit but something stopped her. -No. You cant start like this-. A hand took the pen from Tome. Tokugawa’s chin leaned on Tome’s shoulder while he explained the resolution. Tome looked at his face expecting the usual angry gaze but instead he was too concentrate on what he was doing.   She hadnt never see him like this and not this close to her. He wasnt ugly but for somewhat reason he was extremely pale. That gave him a more vulnerable aspect. Tome blushed a little without caring what he was saying. He suddenly turned around and paused. The creepy face returned. -You’re not listening. Why are you staring?-

She gulped -No,no,no I heard everything. I swear it!-. Tokugawa sighed. “Maybe I shouldnt do much pressure on her. Is she really so desperate only for exams? Anyway she had cried for somewhat reason, it’s normal she is a little distracted”. Tokugawa stood up. -Tome I know you are worried, but you have to pay attention if you want..-.

He stopped and close his eyes. Then fell on Tome’s lap. Tome froze and after a second let out a scream: -Aaaah!What are you doing?!-. He fell on the floor without any reaction. “Oh.. He is not moving. Is he dead!? Is it my fault?? I havent done anything!”. She turned him panicking. “Oh. He is ok. He just passed out”. Tome was tempted to leave him there like this but in the end thought at least to carry him on her bed.

“Hgnn he is pretty heavy” she struggled until finally managed to lay him down. Then came nearer with the chair to look at him. She osserved the Vice president thinking of what could have weakened him to this state. He is the kind of strong and overwhelming guy and it’s just of discouragement to see him like this.

Tome kept to stare at him when noticed something wrong on his face. It was a lock of hair that escaped from his fixed hairstyle. It was so strange. She hasnt, anyone hasnt ever seen him with a single hair out of place. But seeing him like this made Tome feels a bit strange. “Im curious on how he would look like with messy hair”. She, without thinking to much on what she was doing, tryed to get closer to Tokugawa and to place her hand on his hair. But something immediately stopped her.

One hand of the Vice president held her wrist tighly. “Wha-a-t? Is he awaken? He still had his eyes closed though”. Tome felt embarassement on what she has tryed to do and just blushed and stayed still. Suddenly all the force in Tokugawa’s arm faded. It fell on the bed dragging also Tome’s arm that couldnt help but lose balance on the Vice president.

Tome didnt know how to behave instead of remain still and turning all red.

       (the end in the next chapter)

Notes:

it’s my first fanfiction ^-^ im happy ~~

chapter 2 will be posted next week

sorry for my bad english really; Ive checked it several times to not leave big mistakes but surely you still can find some others (a ton of others)

sorry my writing is strange *-* if there’s something incomprehensible you can ask

any comment is accepted

and ideas too

hope you to enjoy this ship

[sadrien]

prince of cats

chapter one: if i profane with my unworthiest hand

on ao3 || on ffnet

[full note on ao3]

it been a journey to get here. i started outlining in november.... i'm really excited that i'm finally able to share it with everyone! this fic was inspired by two (2) posts. one of which was this video of salem the glittery cat

shoutout to everyone in the miracusquad who was online when i started talking about this! thank you for letting me idea bounce/dump, and thank you for being so supportive in general <3 shoutout to my @mlfanfiction​ fam for not yelling at me when they realize that i had many other things i was supposed to be doing in november. things that were not this fic.... i love you guys and finally, massive shoutout to @ladriened​!!! thank you for your endless support kc <3 

last quick thing! im going to be using these tags for this fic: 'proc ml' and 'prince of cats ml'. obviously i wasnt going to use poc and prince of cats is already used for half a dozen other things because...shakespeare

enjoy!!!!

Marinette hums to herself as she hauls her bag up on her shoulder and flicks off the lights in her apartment. For once, she got a decent amount of sleep and she actually ate breakfast this morning, so today is already better than most. Now if she can get the stitching on this new jacket done before lunch…

She pauses to check her phone as she closes the door behind her. Nothing surprising, nothing pressing. Alya confirming lunch like she does every week and insisting Marinette bring juicy gossip to the table. Marinette rolls her eyes as she turns the key in the lock. Fortunately, or unfortunately for Alya, work has been drama free lately. A nice breath of fresh air after a tense argument between two other designers that ended in screaming a few weeks ago. For days after, the workroom was stifling and awkward. Marinette is glad she has nothing to bring to Alya. Besides, Alya will have more enough to say on her own.

Marinette looks up in surprise as she spots movement out of the corner of her eye. She blinks as a black cat leaps up onto the sill of the window at the end of the hall. The cat sits up and licks it paw, shimmering gold in the morning light.

“Huh.” Marinette stuffs her keys into her bag and inches closer to the cat. A golden cat, that’s…odd. She didn’t even realize anyone on this floor had a cat. She glances over her shoulder as a door swings shut and someone swears. She sees the cat jump down from the window out in her peripheral vision and run toward the stairs. Marinette takes another step into the center of the hallway with half a mind to follow it.

Instead, someone crashes into her.

Marinette stumbles backward, her legs tangling with theirs. She groans as she hits the floor hard, banging her elbow on the ground. She winces as the person above her apologizes profusely.

“I-I’m so sorry, so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Marinette stares at him, heart in her throat. His face is flushed and his blond hair falls in his eyes, eyes so green that spring itself would be jealous.

He stops talking and she forces herself to look away from his eyes. Instead she studies his coat, long and dark with impeccable stitching. She tries to come up with a price range for a trenchcoat of this quality to distract herself from the fact that his hands are bracing either side of her head and they’re incredibly close for two complete strangers.

“H-hi,” she stutters.

He blinks. “Uh…hey.” His eyes go wide as a meow echos through the stairwell. “Shit!” he whispers, scrambling to his feet. He runs a hand through his hair, making it puff around his head like a halo, and offers Marinette his other hand. She hesitates for a moment before taking it, letting him tug her to her feet. “Nice to meet you, I have to go!” he says as he sprints toward the stairs. He hooks onto the wall and skids as he turns the corner into the stairwell.

It takes Marinette a moment to realize her bag has spilled all over the hallway floor.

She tries to shake the stranger and his sparkling cat from her mind as she picks up her things and hurries to work. She drowns herself in fabric and sketches, but she can’t get his face out of her mind. When she picks up a pencil to work on a dress design, she finds herself itching to trace out his profile and the curl of his hair.

Marinette groans and puts her head down on her sketchbook. She’s twenty four! She’s a grown woman with a job and an apartment and a social life. She should be over the collège crush phase, but here she is. Obsessing over someone she hasn’t even exchanged names with. Strangers have caught her eye before, a smile making her heartstrings twinge or bright eyes causing butterflies to flutter in her stomach, but she hasn’t experienced something like this in years. All feelings and mush and sudden wooshes of emotion that make her feel like she’s floating.

This is ridiculous.

Marinette texts Alya, because she needs to be grounded, stat. She doesn’t have time to be moon eyed over a guy, no matter how tall and handsome.

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      Are we still on for lunch???      Like 1000000%??      (I know you confirmed earlier I just need like. Another confirmation sorry)

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      of course!!!      arent u at work? 

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      :P      Yes

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      something up??

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      Yes but Im saving it for lunch      The usual??

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess      gotcha      yes!!      see u in a bit! <3

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful      See you then!

Marinette puts down her phone and gives in. When she returns to actual work, the stranger’s face covers two pages of her sketchbook. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Thoughts of the stranger vanish from Marinette’s mind as Alya practically collapses in the seat across from her.

“Are you alright?” Marinette asks, reaching out to touch the back of Alya’s hand.

“I hate my job,” Alya groans. She drops her head down on the table with a thump.

Marinette rolls her eyes but pats the top of Alya’s head anyway. “You love your job.”

“Not today,” Alya mutters. “I’m going to set this entire article on fire.”

“That bad?”

“Yes. I just— words? Sources? Journalism? It’s all horrible.” Alya sighs and wallows for another moment before sitting up. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to talk about?” she asks.

The stranger’s eyes appear in Marinette’s mind and suddenly, under Alya’s gaze, it all seems incredibly trivial. Marinette knows Alya would willingly listen to her talk about the weather and be completely invested in the conversation, but she can see the way work is weighing on Alya’s shoulders. Marinette can feel it weighing on her own. She wouldn’t be lying if she said thinking about the stranger was a good way to procrastinate.

Marinette glances down at the menu, even though she already knows exactly what she’s getting. “Same as you; work. This new line is possibly going to kill me.”

Alya nods in agreement. “Right there with you, girl.”  

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette stands in the hallway in front of her apartment for much longer than she usually does. Usually, she’s dead on her feet and ready to sleep. Recently, she’s been working longer and longer hours to work on the newest clothing line. But today she’s wired and awake. And has been standing in the hallway fumbling for her keys for almost ten minutes.

She shakes her head as she slides her key into the lock and twists it until she hears the click. She’s an adult, not a teenager. She needs to pull herself together. She also needs a glass of wine and Netflix. She pushes the door open and flicks on the lights in her apartment. Just as she’s stepping inside, the apartment door next to her opens and a tall, blond man steps out, holding a phone to his ear and keeping his eyes cast to the floor as he locks the door behind him.

Marinette scrambles to shut her apartment door, her heart beating in her ears. She feels like she was just caught staring, even though he hadn’t even glanced her way.

Right. So her immediate next door neighbor that she never bothered to meet is her handsome stranger from earlier. Of course. That makes sense, she knows almost everyone else on the floor.

She sighs and rests her forehead against the door. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmurs to herself.

She toes off her shoes, changes into pajamas, and collapses on the couch with her laptop, her tablet, and a glass of wine. The bottle sits on the coffee table in front of her and she’s sorely tempted to just drink straight from the bottle. The past few weeks have been overwhelming and dealing with a crush on top of it— 

Marinette isn’t sinking that low. Not yet.

(She hears Alya in her head insisting that drinking wine from the bottle isn’t a low point. She hears Alya say it as she hands Nino and Marinette their own glasses before taking a long sip from the bottle. “I feel like a teenager again,” Alya says with a bright smile and knocks the bottle against Nino’s glass.)

Marinette turns on the TV and chooses a show to start binging at random. Then she makes herself comfortable with her tablet and computer and lets her mind wander as she draws whatever comes to mind. Dresses and jackets start to form on the blank canvas of her screen. The swoops of skirts and the curls of hair. The straight lines and sharp curves forming themselves into clothes and people and expressions and accessories.

Marinette finds herself using an awful lot of green.