#these ideas both came to me during art class

[evilresidentz]

P4 scares me if I think too hard abt it (always thinks too hard about it)

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea

AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind

Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter

Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.

He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.

He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.

"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.

Yeah something's definitely up.

"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.

He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"

You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.

"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"

"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"

You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"

The bathtub overflows.

"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.

"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.

"Si-"

"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"

That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.

"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.

"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."

Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.

You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.

You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.

Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.

'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'

He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.

He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.

'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'

Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.

He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.

"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.

He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.

"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"

You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.

"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.

"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.

"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."

He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"

He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.

You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.

He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Neil, my name is Zalean. If you have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you a little story. Not really a question and I’m not sure how to use tumblr but I wanted to say thanks so much for coming to Florida a few months back and talking with Art Spiegelman. It was my first time ever figuring out how to buy tickets for something. I lived in, middle of nowhere, Vermont for most my life and had no idea what I was doing, I had never been to anything before, nothing had made me excited enough to do the 5 hour drive. And then you just appeared 20 minutes away from where I am living now.

See, I was just starting to get to know your books and work because I fell in love with Good Omens so deeply when I discovered it during season twos release. Funny thing is, I knew of you all along without even realizing it, Stardust has been my favorite book and movie since I was a kid because it was my dad’s favorite story. Finding out my two favorite things were actually connected, I started trying to get hands on as many of your books as I could. I hadn’t read in years before finding your books. It was eye opening.

The talk event at the Dr.Phillips Center was sold out by the time I knew about it, someone had asked me if I knew of the event when they saw my Good Omens keychains my mom had made me. I called the box office because there is no harm in asking. I explained how I’m an art student at UCF and desperately wanted to be inspired and learn from you both. The customer service people were amazing and ended up calling me back to get me a seat in the orchestra pit before they were released to the public. I drove alone, I walked there alone, I sat alone, and it was worth it. I was so thankful to get a seat and grateful to my professor who was a bit jealous he didn’t know about it but let me leave class early to go because of course the art professor would be understanding for any learning opportunities in the arts. And it was truly wonderful, it seemed real and that’s what I wanted. I didn’t want a show. I just wanted to hear, in some sense, that you were like everybody else. I brought a notebook and pen for any information or story’s that I thought made a difference to my little life. The other people around were wonderful, you inspire kind people.

Like I said, I had never been to anything like this and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know you would have signed books and I only found out because the people next to me came in late. I asked them why they brought the books after it was over and the lights turned on. They did look at me like I had three heads for a moment until they realized I didn’t know there were books to buy, they looked kinda sorry for me but they were so nice. I had never really thought about the importance of someone’s scribble before this but it’s something that proves you were there. It says “Remember when this person made you happy? Remember when they changed your life? Remember when they gave you hope? Look at this and remember.” I hope to see David Tennant and Michael Sheen to get an autograph now that I understand the meaning behind it a bit more but honestly I just love diving into everyone’s projects, the wonder you all create. Oh what fun it is to live a life full of stories!

The people that were sitting next to me let me look at their signed books and hold them. I flipped through some of the big ones, handed them back and expressed my gratitude just to be in the theater. I showed them all my little quotes I wrote down, I never want to forget why I create things and you say so much about never stopping, always creating. Then the women handed me a different book, a smaller book, but when I tried to hand it back, a bit confused, she softly placed it back in my open hands and said “I want you to have it, we have plenty and I want you to love these stories just as much as we do. It’s just starting for you, I want you to remember who started it”. The book she handed me being“The Ocean at the End of the Lane”. The first book I decided to read by you and had just finished a week before. The women had no idea she given me a signed copy of the book that made me want to read again. Your books make the world better. For such a big theater and such a big stage, I just wanted to tell you my little point of view.

The story you told about wishing you enjoyed the past more than you did, I hope you get to enjoy it now, and I hope you want to. And thank you, to you and to Terry Pratchett for creating something special. I convinced my dad to watch Good Omens with me over December break, he loved it.

I forget sometimes that everything is someone's first time, and then I read something like this and feel like I need to remember that better. I'm glad the people beside you were kind.

[callahanisms]

body talk

seeing challengers was a mistake guys because all i can think about is challengers and how much i love challengers and how cinema is back after people declared the death of cinema like three years ago and how much i wanna go see challengers again—

anyways uhhhh did challengers make me hop onto the mike faist train? yes. because i love a man that clearly worships his wife and kisses boys.

character: art donaldson

for vibes: "physical" by olivia newton-john

context: stanford university. 2007.

if you had a choice, you wouldn't be working as a receptionist in the gym. instead, you'd work in the infirmary. it was more in line with your desire to pursue sports medicine.

your father himself was an athlete who sustained a career ending injury and went into sports medicine. you wanted to follow in his footsteps.

but for now, you were working as a receptionist at the gym for your federal work study. college wasn't going to pay for itself unfortunately and your parents could only provide so much support.

art donaldson recognized you while you guys were at a party. "you're the person at the desk in the gym!" he sounded so excited. almost like a puppy.

"yeah..." you look down at your red solo cup. "you're like a regular. with tashi duncan."

"you know her?"

"well, i've talked to her a few times. she's great." who wouldn't like her honestly? you weren't the biggest fan of tennis but whenever tashi duncan played, she always managed to make it magical.

"you're also in my bio class, right?"

"you're in my bio class?"

"oh don't tell me you didn't notice."

you shrug. "i didn't. you're not very...noticeable, i guess."

art took personal offense to that statement.

okay not entirely. because to some extent, you were right. he wasn't as noticeable as some of the other people in class, like the lacrosse player on the guys team or the girl from the basketball team, both of whom you seem to be close with.

growing closer to art was just a matter of being in a lot of classes together, something you didn't realize during the first month of college.

to be fair, it was a lot.

but the good thing about having a lot of classes with him was that it meant you always had a go to person for group projects. and god were professors adamant about assigning group work.

at the very least, you had a workout buddy when you guys were free. sometimes, you were even joined by tashi duncan. so it was cool to be able to work out with a famous tennis player.

perhaps the gym is where you started to notice art's...physicality.

he wasn't entirely imposing, aside from being quite tall. but he had a surprising amount of muscle. perhaps the tank tops he wore didn't help much. it left little to the imagination.

because of your familiarity with the body and your desire to go into sports medicine, art called you when he was feeling a bit sore.

he opens the door with a smile, seeing you with your bag and clementines. "what's the fruit for?"

"just in case you get hungry." you step in and remove your shoes. "just lay down."

"bed or floor?"

"whichever you prefer. the bed might be more comfy. we'd have to move stuff around if you were on the floor. oh and take off your shirt."

"what?" he could feel his cheeks beginning to heat up.

"take off your shirt. a massage won't be that effective with your shirt on."

"alright. umm..." art just does what you ask of him, taking his shirt off and setting it aside on his desk chair. he gets on the bed and lays down, front side down.

you pull out a bottle of lotion and crawl onto the bed, straddling him at his waist. you are unaware of how red he is feeling you against him.

you feel around his back for bit, asking him where in particular is tight. once you got a good idea, you squirt some lotion onto your hands, rub it a bit, then begin to massage.

art would be embarrassed from the sounds that came out of him. but he was craving for the relief from his overworked and tired muscles. he could feel just how deep your hands went in, twisting and rubbing. your hands felt so good. they glided smoothly and your touch soothed him greatly.

"damn dude. when was the last time you massaged yourself?"

"don't know." he mutters, burying his lower face into his own pillow. he could feel himself growing warmer all over his body.

your palm pressing into him, dragging itself through his muscles, rubbing baby lotion into his skin so he's soft.

your hand reaches a part of his lower back, your palm rubbing through the muscle. and he moans.

you stop for a moment. "something wrong?"

"no...nothing's wrong..." he mutters.

"you sure?"

"yes. keep going."

he enjoys the way your hands move lower, and lower. he wants them to sneak to the front. massage him a different way.

your hands linger on a particular spot of his back though, feeling the defined muscle. there's something particularly...satisfying, about running your hands over his body. you were tempted to feel more. especially his arms.

art's arms were utterly gorgeous, as if sculpted out of marble by a renaissance artist themselves.

"i think you're all good."

"all done already?" he smelled like baby lotion. whatever that mean.

"unless you want me to massage elsewhere." you get off of him and he turns on his side to look at you.

the tank top you were wearing was a little bit tight.

art gently grabs your wrist. "magical hands you know."

"it's beneficial to learn how to massage. for your own betterment and health. though i will happily help you with the spots you can't reach."

he rubs circles into your wrists. "are they tired?"

"a little. it was because i took an exam yesterday. writing in those blue booklets is absolute torture."

"that's fair." his eyes flicker up to yours. the room was warm, the atmosphere right. "do you...like my body?"

"it's nice. you're very beautiful." you smile.

art pulls you forward, your legs hitting the wooden bedframe of the shitty college provided furniture.

"do you want to feel it?"

you bite your lip. "i think i do."

[dustofthedailylife]

The Art Of Desire

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: You are in need of a model for your anatomy class assignment. However, the last thing you expected was that your crush would volunteer to help you and that he would end up standing in front of you without a shirt.

Tags: Fluff, Suggestive (but still completely SFW)!, shy reader, partial nud*ty I guess? (Alhaitham is shirtless at some point), flirting, kissing

A/N: *throws fic into the room and leaves*

Being an artist while also being a scholar in Sumeru had always been somewhat difficult for you. The arts had never been something most people in Sumeru City appreciated or even actively looked down upon. It was a city of scholars after all, and the arts were too abstract to properly grasp for most of them.

Things had begun to become better after the old Grand Sage had been replaced and the new Archon had been freed but a lot of scholars still didn’t show much interest in the arts.

But due to that an assignment for one of your classes proved difficult. Anatomy.

You had no idea how learning human anatomy would help you as an architect later, but you did what you had to do. And it would surely help you with your personal art projects later on as well.

The only thing you had to find now was someone who could pose for you. Surely Kaveh would be able to help you right? He was your best friend and was once in the same situation.

You sought him out where he hung around the most - the Tavern.

As you walked through the Tavern door, warm air that smelled like wine and spices wafted your way and filled all your senses. You loved how homely it always felt here.

You scanned the tables to find Kaveh. Unfortunately for you though, he wasn’t alone. As you feared, Alhaitham was with him. You already considered turning around to leave again but Kaveh had already spotted you and was enthusiastically waving for you to come over to their table. 

And that was precisely the reason you rarely ever came here nowadays. Kaveh often met up with Alhaitham here for lunch. And your crush on the latter had slowly but surely turned you into a nonsense-blabbering mess during conversations with him. At this point, he probably thought you were stupid.

You hesitantly tiptoed over to their table and greeted them while your heart pounded heavily inside your chest. You sat down on the bench next to Kaveh who was already a bit tipsy. It wasn’t much of a surprise, since he was such a lightweight and practically got drunk as soon as he looked at wine the wrong way.

“Kaveh, I need your help!” You pleaded, trying to avoid eye contact with Alhaitham as much as possible once again.

“And that would be, my dear friend?” Kaveh replied in a singsong voice.

“Alright so… I need someone to pose for me. I need to draw a couple of detailed torso drawings for the anatomy course I’ve been taking, and since you also took that once I thought you could help me. I mean, you could also give me some tips. Right?” 

“Oh.” His smile faltered for a brief moment and his facial expression told you everything you needed to know. There was apparently a reason he couldn’t help but he didn’t outright want to turn you down. You knew how he is, he simply couldn’t say no and would inconvenience himself any time for his friends. And you definitely didn’t want him to do that for you. You’d be able to find someone else somehow.

“It’s okay if you can’t do it. Just say no.” You reassured him.

“I have an appointment in the desert with a client, but I’m sure I could make some ti–”

“I’ll help you.” Alhaitham cut Kaveh off.

Both of you snapped your heads in his direction in disbelief.

“Are you sick?! Why would you volunteer to help anyone but yourself?” Kaveh gasped and looked at the Scribe as if he’d lost his mind.

“It’s not much work, is it? They could just come to my office and draw me while I just sit there doing my work. Isn’t that correct?” Alhaitham inquired, boring his turquoise eyes into you. You simply nodded in reply and could feel your breath hitch in your throat. You were sure that if you would be standing right now your knees would’ve probably given in by now since they felt like jello. On top of that, your nervousness skyrocketed so badly that you were able to feel your heartbeat in your throat. 

The thought of being alone with Alhaitham for a prolonged period of time while ogling him as closely as you never dared before, made your heart flutter. You probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on drawing properly but if he was already offering it, you couldn’t possibly refuse. Especially since he usually didn’t do anyone any favors to begin with.

“Besides,” Alhaitham continued. “It gives me an excuse to decline every other meeting for the rest of the day.”

“Tch, typical. Of course, there’d be an egoistic reason for your volunteering.” Kaveh scoffed.

“I don’t see any issue with that. I help them with their assignment while also helping myself. It’s a beneficial endeavor for both of us.” Alhaitham reasoned, twirling his own wine cup between his fingers before turning to you again. "Wouldn't you agree, too?"

You slowly nodded before quickly averting your eyes again since you couldn't bear to look at Alhaitham for longer than a few seconds without getting flustered. You had no idea how you were supposed to look at him for a prolonged period of time to draw him if you were already reduced to a flustered mess by talking to him. The thought alone made your heart almost jump out of your chest.

Kaveh shook his head in annoyance and turned to you once more. “Just say the word and I’ll take a day off to help you. Rest assured, it would be no problem for me.”

“No, Kaveh. I couldn’t possibly ask you to neglect your own responsibilities for my projects. Just keep your focus on yourself. If Alhaitham is so kind to offer his help I’ll take him up on that.” You reassured him while trying to hide how nervous you actually were about the situation.

“Well, shall we get going then? My lunch break is almost over.” Alhaitham interrupts, immediately getting up from the table.

You somewhat hesitantly got up as well since you didn’t expect he meant you could draw him right now. You had no time to mentally prepare for it so this would be interesting.

“Oh, so now you suddenly care about getting back to work on time after your lunch break,” was the last thing you heard Kaveh yell before the door of the Tavern fell shut behind both of you.

As you quietly tailed behind Alhaitham back to his office the realization that you’d actually be drawing him now suddenly began to dawn on you.

Oh, just what did you agree to here? And how in the world should you avoid making this awkward now?

Once you arrived at his officeAlhaitham unlocked the door and motioned you inside.

“You can sit down at the table over there. Do you need anything?”

“No. I should be fine.” You replied with a shy smile.

You were in fact everything but that.

While you were trying not to have a meltdown as you unpacked your stuff, Alhaitham was brewing some coffee and handed you a cup as well.

“Do you need me to do anything?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In terms of posing.”

“Oh. Uh– no actually not. Just sit on your chair and read or whatever?”

“Nothing easier than that.” He replied with a faint smile, grabbing a book from the bookshelf beside you and walking back to his desk.

You busied yourself by scanning the books on the shelves that littered his office while sipping on your coffee before you turned around again and had to stop yourself from immediately spitting your coffee out again. Although as soon as you did you wished you had never done so.

Alhaitham had unclasped his cape and had loosely thrown it over his desk and was just about to pull his shirt over his head. You were trying to process what was happening before your eyes but your mind was racing so fast that you failed to fully grasp the scene before you.

“W-what are you doing?!” You stammered.

“Didn’t you say this was for your anatomy assignment?” He inquired, seeming entirely unbothered before ultimately removing his shirt completely.

Well, yeah you did. And for that bare skin was sort of a requirement. You knew that full well, too. It just sort of slipped your mind that taking Alhaitham up on his offer would actually entail seeing him without a shirt as well.

“Y-yes.” You replied, moving your eyes over his now exposed abdominal muscles. His usual shirt already left little to the imagination, but actually seeing his trained body without the thin piece of fabric covering it was a sight for sore eyes.

He claimed to only be a feeble scholar but that notion couldn’t be any further from the truth.

“Then there you have the answer to your question.” He stated matter-of-factly before sitting down and opening his book to read. His face still looked as unbothered as it did before and he immediately lost himself in his book.

In the meantime, you tried your hardest to get yourself together again. Not only did you need to keep your eyes from wandering but also your mind. 

You traced every well-toned muscle of his upper body. How light and shadow formed their contours and how his pectorals moved whenever he flipped another page. You took note of every detail and etched it into your memory while suppressing the urge to brush over his defined muscles.

You sat down at the table and held onto your pen for dear life as you continued to analyze every little detail of his body. The embedded gem between his collarbones and hot it beautifully shimmered in the light of his office. The sharp V-Line that started right above his hips. The symmetric curve of his collarbones leading up to his shoulders. And his turquoise eyes that were boring into yours once again.

"Is anything the matter?" He inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"N-no. I'm just trying to find a starting point." You stammered your poor attempt at an excuse.

After all 'Sorry, I was too distracted by staring at your body' wasn't something you could just say either.

“T-tell me if you’re getting too cold and we can take a break.”

“It’s 40 degrees outside, I’ll be fine.” He chuckled seemingly amused about your concern.

“Ri-right. Yeah. Okay.” You awkwardly bit your lip. For Archon's sake, why couldn’t you just behave normally around him?

After overcoming the first awkwardness you eventually started sketching. But the more the shapes on your paper resembled the beautiful man in front of you, the more flustered you became again and the more aware you became of the fact of how closely you were actually looking at him. Your attention to detail for this sketch was even more on point than it had ever been before. Upon realizing that it was because you were enjoying what you were seeing your cheeks started to burn in embarrassment.

You spent about an hour immersed in sketching, carefully studying every contour of his upper body. It felt so intimate that you couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever looked at him this way before. And even though you kept telling yourself that this was just a regular art study session to avoid getting flustered further, the endeavor proved completely unsuccessful. 

Eventually, you finished your piece and dropped your pen on the table. You lifted your sketchbook up to evaluate the page and the final result.

The once-blank page was now filled with an intricate pencil sketch of the handsome man with a dreamlike physique. You had to admit, he truly was the perfect subject for anatomy studies. And while you wouldn’t mind seeing him shirtless more often you doubt your heart could handle it another time. Because despite sitting the entire time you felt like you had just run a marathon.

“Your talent is quite impressive.” Alhaitham’s voice rang right next to your ear and made you flinch. You didn’t notice how he had approached you. And what made things worse is that he was still shirtless while standing next to you so closely you could feel the heat that emanated from his skin and smell his after-shave.

You gulped and got up from your chair avoiding looking into his eyes as much as possible because you feared that if you did your heart would burst out of your chest. 

“Thank you. That means a lot. I-I mean… it was quite easy to see the muscle definition on you.”

Facepalm. Why did you say that? You internally cringed at your choice of words and continued to avoid looking at him while you hastily started packing your bag again.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” He remarked with a smirk and lifted your chin up with your sketchbook, forcing you to look into his eyes.

You opened your mouth in order to say something but everything you could’ve said died in your throat. So instead, you simply continue to stare at him while your heart felt like it was about to combust and you wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground in shame.

He huffed in amusement at your evident flustered state and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his arm next to your head on the wall, towering over you.

“Do you have any idea how obvious you are?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I see the way you look at me, or rather how you always avoid doing so now. And Kaveh happened to slip up and revealed your secret when he got drunk. And that’s why I can tell you that I feel the exact same way about you. And I’ve longed for a moment to tell you. You didn’t make it easy since you kept avoiding me lately.”

You didn’t know whether what was happening was wishful imagination or a fever dream because it felt surreal. 

He put your sketchbook back on the table and lifted your chin with his free hand now. He took hold of one of your hands and placed it on his abs.

“This is what you wanted to do the entire time, am I right?” He whispered while the bud of his thumb brushed past your lower lip. You slowly nodded as your traced along his toned stomach with a featherlight touch, feeling how the muscles moved below your fingertips.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered in a low tone when you looked up into his eyes.

He had barely even finished asking when you leaned into him more and took the initiative to place your lips on his for a shy kiss. But it was so fleeting it had you longing for more and it seems that the feeling was mutual.

He quickly snaked his arms around your waist and pressed you against him with fervor while he hungrily crashed his lips into yours once more. You slung your arms around his neck and entangled your fingers in his soft gray locks while pushing his face even closer to yours than it already was.

You could feel him smiling into the kiss, as you did so. His lips continued to gently caress yours like a tender whisper of affection shared only between you two. It made you feel lightheaded while also leaving you longing for more. It was an intoxicating feeling like no other. One you certainly could get addicted to - and maybe you already were. 

At some point, you had no idea for how long you had been standing there kissing but it felt like an eternity yet not long enough at the same time.

You were sure of one thing though – You needed more of it.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[denwritesandcries]

Work of Art – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x artist!reader

Summary: You join a fight club just to spend more time with your pretty friend, Hazel Callahan. The fact that you're running out of time to finish an art project is just a detail.

Word count: 3,5k.

Content: loser!hazel trying to be smooth, sylvie being a chaotic ala, cursing, flirting, mutual pining, friends to lovers, my questionable comedy, a little blood at the start, reader is a SIMP.

Note: This came up to me after the ‘these girls are ugly’ scene and I had to make a dramatic story about it. I'm so soft for this character, I just wanna hold her and tell her how beautiful she is.

English is not my first language.

There's a sketchbook opened on your lap, a coal pencil on your hand and a fight happening in front of you.

Technically, that's what you were supposed to be doing too – fighting with someone – it was fight club, after all. Instead, you were sitting against a wall, hastily trying to finish a sketch for your art club project.

In your defense, you weren't even going to join this self-defense club in the first place, having been quite happy just occupying yourself with your art club after school, but your friend Sylvie came up to you one day completely excited about the idea, saying that she really wanted to participate, but that to keep going they needed more members and there enters you.

You said no right away, claiming that you would end up getting overwhelmed trying to balance both clubs with all the meetings, but Sylvie could be so convincing – more like insistent – with her methods, even shouting "PLEASE COME!" in a hallway full of people during classes, that you ended up giving in to when it became too embarrassing. Therefore, you agreed to go to a meeting without the promise of staying.

You regretted that decision and swore to burn Sylvie’s stupid beanie in the first punch that hitted you. You were terrible at fighting.

After being beaten up by a girl you didn't even know the name of, you ended up with a split lip and a bruise forming on your cheek and were ready to go find your friend and gently let her down by telling her that this really wasn't your thing, that is until Hazel Callahan approaches you.

Hazel. The same Hazel who sat three seats away from you in history class for four years, with whom you usually paired up during assignments but didn't talk much. The same Hazel who is standing in front of you with a weird smile and a washcloth in her hand.

“Uh…” you start, not quite sure what to say, “Do you need anything?”

"Oh!" She seems to realize that she's been silent and staring at you for too long, shaking her head, "No, not really, but you looked like you needed it," Hazel holds out the washcloth to you.

You notice that she's doing her best to look casual, shrugging her shoulders with fake indifference and pointing to your bleeding lip with the hand holding the cloth while the other is stuffed into the pocket of her baggy, ripped jeans. The sight is so captivating that it makes you smile even when you don’t want to, with the sudden feeling that you two should interact more.

“Oh, what a gentleman," you joke when you accept and take the cloth from her hand and are happy with the fact that the fabric is dark when your blood stains it, "You came to comfort me after spending all this time watching my ass being kicked?"

Her eyes widened in panic and Hazel squealed like an alarmed puppy, "No!" She exclaims, "I didn't mean that, really. It's just that you seemed upset and I—"

“Haze, it’s okay." You interrupt and reassure her with a gentle hand on her arm, “I’m just messing with you.”

She shakes her head, still in denial, her face red: "But you weren't that bad."

You snort, any trace of upset seeming to leave your body, “But it was bad.”

Hazel looks away from you while playing with the rings on one of her hands, she seems to want to tell you something, so you wait in silence until she has the courage.

"So…" she starts, "Are you staying? At the club, I mean."

No, you want to say. This place is completely chaotic, I have other things I'd like to do and I bet I'll get my ass kicked every time I go up against someone here. But Hazel is looking at you with her head cocked to the side and bright, hopeful blue eyes and what kind of monster would you be to deny something and wipe that look off her face?

“Maybe," you answer instead, an uncertain smile on your face, “I’m still thinking about it.”

That seems to be enough to satisfy her and you quickly turn around, putting the bloodstained cloth inside your backpack and packing your things to leave when you realize that you two were the only ones left in the place.

"Walk with me?" You nod towards the exit for Hazel to follow you and she does so shyly.

As you walk around the school grounds your bodies are close enough that your shoulders touch as you walk and the interaction brings you a surprising amount of comfort.

"You know," Hazel starts again, her voice at a high pitch, she clears her throat with a fist against her mouth before continuing, "You don't have to if you don't want to, but uh—" Hazel stutters, face red again, "It would be really nice if you stayed.”

You turn your head to look at her side face, her nervous attitude warming your heart in a jarring way and you suddenly wonder why you and Hazel have never been closer before, even though you've technically known each other for so many years. It seemed almost unfair to be deprived of her company for so long.

“This fighting thing really isn’t for me,” you shrugged and continued before a look of disappointment could wash over her, “But I think people make it worth coming back for.”

You hoped she would notice the flirting tone in your words; Hazel could be terrible at reading between the lines.

"Oh, you're right!" She replied with an excited smile, "I managed to make a lot of friends there since it started, maybe you can too!”

You raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for Hazel to realize what she said just to tease her, and she did, panicking.

"I didn't mean that you don't have friends!" She shouted with a wave of her arms, "I just— I just—"

Hazel's calm facade falls completely and you feel a laugh grow in your chest as you laugh openly. She takes a moment to compose herself before relaxing a little when she sees that you're not bothered.

"Okay, got it." you say with a final giggle, "Don't worry, I'll show up since it would be so nice if I stayed."

Sure, she may not have understood your flirting the first time, but her red face up to her ears and shy gaze stuck on the floor could only be an indication that she had now caught on.

When you reach the point where your paths part, you can't resist talking to Hazel one last time:

"Haze," You call in a relaxed tone as she heads to her car, "Is that really a women's empowerment club?"

Hazel smiles as she opens the door, without any nervousness this time, "I have no idea, but I like it."

You think you might like it too if you were going to see her like this more often.

When you get home that day, with your untouched art supplies weighing down your backpack, there's a message on your phone left from Sylvie. That little bastard had left without you even noticing.

slaygirl:

hey what u throught about the club

*thouth

sHIT

*thought

runned right home when I saw your mad face lol

You snorted with a roll of eyes. You had already made the decision anyway, there was no point in actually being mad at her.

you:

well I guess is not THAT bad

I'll make the sacrifice and participate

slaygirl:

HELL YEAH LET'S GOOO

told u would like it

You ask yourself one last time if you should really do this or not; the times between the fight club and art club meetings were so close together, it could easily turn into a mess. Then you think about Hazel and the way she seemed enchanted by the idea of you being there.

Fuck it, you thought. You can handle both.

You couldn't handle both. That was why you found yourself against that wall now, running out of time and without the proper sketches you were supposed to present later.

It was a relatively simple exercise that you had to do: draw everyday landscapes in charcoal pencil by sight. The problem is that you didn't have time to draw the requested amount and you haven't had much inspiration other than classrooms and parts of the school lately.

Luckily, no one really minded when you decided to opt to just be a spectator today; PJ and Josie being too busy flirting with Brittany and Isabel and Sylvie being just excited about getting into a fight with someone.

"And what are you doing there?" Hazel's voice scares you as she sits down next to you with a curious look and a small smile at the sound of your surprised squeak.

You had no idea where she had come from, having quickly talked to her as soon as you arrived and then gone straight to your task, but you were very happy to have her there now. You've been getting closer over the last few weeks since joining the club, just as you wanted, which has made all of your juggling between tasks totally worth it.

"Shouldn't you be beating up someone?" You dodged the question, giving her a look of fake reprimand.

She scoffed with a hand gesture, "I'll be right there, I just passed by to check on you." She pointed with her chin to the notebook with you, "So?”

You shrug, "Just trying to finish this project, but nothing seems to make me want to draw." You turn the sketchbook so Hazel can see the simple outline of the open area in which you practice defense, your hands are stained with coal pencil and the sheet is messy with outlines of bodies overlapping the paper.

For the confused look on her face and the slight tilt of her head, you can tell Hazel doesn't quite understand what you mean, but she gives you a reassuring smile anyway.

"You're talented, I'm sure you'll figure that out soon."

You feel a stupid smile growing on your face and you can't help the way your voice softens, "Thanks, Haze."

She returns your smile for a moment, but quickly looks away, seeming to want to break off the interaction.

Hazel breaks the silence that suddenly settles in: “Will you teach me?”, she asks.

You look at her confused, “What? Drawing?”

“Hm-hm,” She nods with a pout, “I always see you drawing during class and I'm terrible at it.”

You find her extremely captivating.

“Okay,” you snort. “I’ll give you drawing lessons if you give me fighting lessons. You’re better at this than me. Than everyone here, actually.”

And then she gets nervous again, cheeks colored a soft red, stammering, “Oh. I— hm, alright.”

You think maybe she's going to say something more, but Hazel gets up and shakes her head like a puppy and your heart warms, before saying goodbye, giving you an awkward pat on the shoulder and running off to find a partner for the day's exercises.

A sigh leaves your chest as your gaze follows her as she walks, deciding to watch a little until you get the courage to finish your work.

Hazel is paired with a girl you had never spoken to but who you were sure was in your English class. A very pretty girl, by the way. It annoyed you how close they were and the way Hazel touched the girl so she could fix her position before they started fighting, the same way she did to you when you asked for help with your movements the other day; and it annoyed you even more the way the girl seemed to lean into her touch, exactly like you did on the few occasions when Hazel touched you for more than a few seconds.

Damn, you wish you knew the girl's name so you could actually get mad.

Your stomach turned uncomfortably the more you watched the duo, didn't that girl know that Hazel is... what? Your girlfriend? Your friend who you flirt with? This was practically the same as nothing. You had nothing. You couldn't be mad.

But man, you are annoyed.

With a shake of your head, you look away from the scene and open your sketchbook again, this time to a clean page. Better get back to work.

When you look up again, Hazel has the girl trapped in her arms. The way her best features are marked is unfairly hot, your silly jealousy ends up forgotten in favor of admiring how beautiful she is.

Unconsciously, you begin to trace the outline of her strong jaw onto the paper, letting the simple body outline you had begun take shape.

To you, Hazel was a work of art in every sense of the word, from her appearance to her most unusual mannerisms. Everything about her seemed to scream art and drawing her was an extremely satisfying action. It wasn't even the first time you had portrayed her, having made small sketches during the times you worked together in class and given them all to her – you wish you had kept at least one now –, maybe that's why she asked you for lessons anyway.

Either way, anything involving Hazel is more interesting than your original project.

You notice the way her hair falls over her face, the dark color contrasting with her big blue eyes, and you think it's a shame you didn't bring any supplies you could use to color them. There is a small cut where a yellowish bruise is on her cheek; Hazel seemed to always be recovering from some injury, even though she was the one who won most of the fights, not that you would count – liar, you did.

You draw the outline of her nose and lips with the practiced precision of someone who has done this many times before; she's wearing a dark green button-down shirt, one of your favorites on her, along with baggy black jeans and an old pair of vans; her hands are missing their usual rings and there are little green dinosaurs in her socks.

You won't add all of it, of course, it's not a full body drawing, but you can't help but notice every little detail about her.

Time passes without you noticing, your project remains completely forgotten while you draw Hazel from memory, no longer needing to turn to the annoying vision of her and the other girl. When the meeting is almost finished, Sylvie approaches you smiling and looks over your shoulder.

"Dude!" She exclaims in a knowing tone, “So that’s why you actually agreed to join the club!”

“Shush girl, do you want everyone here to know!?” You whisper-shouting and quickly pull the beanie she was wearing over her nose tightly, ignoring the chocked ‘fucking rude’ that Sylvie lets out.

“You should tell her." Sylvie declares, because of course she would understand right away that you have a crush.

“What?" You ask, alarmed, “Like right now?”

"Yeah!" She pushes your shoulder in encouragement, “The day is almost over, it’s not like we have anything else to do anyway.” Sylvie shrugged, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“I can’t just go there and tell.” You mumble, “And I have things to do.”

“Oh, come on! I’m sure she likes you back!”

“And how can you know that?” You asked.

“How come you don’t know that?” Sylvie replied, “It’s kinda obvious.”

“Okay, whatever you say, but I’m not going to tell her anything now.” You insist stubbornly.

Sylvie looks like she's about to say something else, but a tricksy smile forms on her face when she sees someone approaching.

"Tell what?" Hazel's voice coming from nearby startles you and when you turn your face to find her, she's alone, no sign of the other girl in sight.

You were about to stutter something in response – and most likely make a fool of yourself – but Sylvie was quicker.

“Oh!” Your friend exclaims in false innocence, “I was trying to convince her to show you her drawing, but she’s such a perfectionist.”

You elbow her in panic and Sylvie lightly tugs at your hair as she stands up; you don't notice the dirty look Hazel gives to the interaction, wringing her hands in her pockets.

Sylvie walks away arching her eyebrows in a suggestive expression at you and your cheeks burn at the implication as Hazel takes her place beside you.

“So…” she begins, her voice strangely tense, “Did you finish what you were drawing? Can I see it?"

“Well…” You feel nervous, there’s no way to get out of this without making her sad and that’s the last thing you would want to do. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go ahead: “Inspiration came to and I drew something, but it’s not for my project, I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

"Yes, I will!" Hazel adjusts herself excitedly, your knees touching, “Can I see it?” she repeats.

You gulp and nod, turning the sketchbook towards her. Hazel lens even closer to you to see the result, her chin brushing your shoulder and a hand running up your back and resting there, surprising you, you feel the coldness of her hand and the outline of her rings – when she did put them back? – through the fabric of your t-shirt.

You feel the moment Hazel registers the drawing on the sheet and her breath hitches, the action sending a shiver up your spine.

"Then?" You ask nervously, “What do you think?”

But Hazel remains silent. When you turn to look at her, her jaw is dropped in complete disbelief and a deep blush covers her face from her cheeks to her ears.

“Haze?” You call, unsure.

“That’s— it’s beautiful.” She stutters, one hand delicately touches the paper, coal staining her fingers, “It’s me. It’s me… beautiful.”

“You are beautiful,” you correct without hesitation and Hazel’s gaze turns to you, “That’s nothing compared to you.”

She hesitates for a moment, “Why did you do that?”

"Why?" You echo, “You know why.”

And Hazel knows. You know she knows. There hasn't been a single day that the two of you haven't flirted, that there hasn't been this tension between you. There's no way she doesn't know, but someone needs to admit it.

She looks at you expectantly, the same lovely hope as before is back in her eyes, and again, who are you to take that look off her face?

You sigh, “I have a crush on you, Haze.”

She snorts, voice shaking in a confident attempt of a joke: “I know.”

You raise an eyebrow and give her an unimpressed look and Hazel immediately backtracks.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She exclaims, “I just— I like you too, a lot.”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips when you put the notebook and pencil aside to look at her fully and your faces are so close that you would only have to lean in for your lips to touch. God, you've never wanted something so much before.

You notice every little detail of her face; a fallen eyelash on her cheek, the faint marks of dark circles over her eyes, freckles over her nose that you had never gotten close enough before to see.

Hazel looks at you like she can't believe what's happening and honestly, neither can you.

“Please,” she whispers, eyes locked on your lips.

Hazel Callahan was the most beautiful work of art you had ever seen and as an artist, you know you should never touch artworks, but Hazel asks you and you could never deny her anything.

Your lips meet and it's softer than you thought it could be – even though you've thought about it many times then – and your hands rest on her cheeks like they belong there, she lets out a sigh of contentment that warms your heart.

When you pull away, there's a coal stain on Hazel's face from where your hand was before and her pupils are dilated like dark pits, it's unfair the way it makes your heart skip a beat.

She kisses you again, shorter this time and you would have chased her lips if it weren't for someone's voice scaring you:

“ATTA GIRL, I TOLD YOU YOU COULD DO IT!” Sylvie is on the other side of the gym, cheering and pointing at you.

You had completely forgotten that the meeting wasn't over yet.

“Dude." PJ starts on the other side, “When did this happend?”

“You know this is a public space right?” Josie asks with a hand on her hip, “Don’t make out here, man.”

You shake your head in amusement and start to gather your things, “Okay, okay,” you say. “Let’s make out somewhere else then. Come on Haze.”

Hazel seems too flustreaded to speak and doesn't argue as you take her hand and pull her along as you leave to the sounds of your friends cheering and joking.

“Where are we going?” She asks, you’re still holding hands.

You shrug innocently, “I promised you drawing lessons, didn’t I?”

In the end you don't show up at the art club that day, too busy spending time with your newest girlfriend and it's totally worth it.

[boulevardofpizzadreams]

the lads boys as your high school classmates

A/n: not sure if anyone else has posted this idea already but it just came to me before i went to bed. also i mainly focus on rafayel in the game but i've seen enough of both xavier & zayn & hope i do them justice. c:

these are literally just late night thoughts and observations and such that i've had while playing. (cannot WAIT until chapter 9 is released omg)

please be nice - let me know your thoughts ^^

XAVIER

• always want to eat lunch with you

• sometimes falls asleep during class. you know that he doesn't want to ask anyone for their notes so you usually send them via e-mail.

• offers to be your study buddy. you two had been paired up for a lab and ever since, he assumes that you'll be his study partner from now on.

• doesn't like being called on but always has an intelligent response

• only considers joining a club if you join too

RAFAYEL

• always wants to see your sketches and projects for art class

• rarely worries about deadlines

• is usually seen eating an apple or sucking on a lollipop. sometimes, he'll ask you to peel the apple for him but he'll tease you for your "technique".

• tries to avoid school events at all costs, way too crowded. he likes the attention and has always been used to receiving it since he was a child. but he'd rather stay at home or hang out with you instead.

• always steals your pen but gives it back if you say "please."

ZAYN

• always make sure you're studying, turning in your assignments on time and asks how you do on your exams

• can be found in the library often

• worries about your sleep schedule and eating habits. sometimes he will pack extra food and a water bottle because he knows that you forgot.

• ignore basically everyone but you. he doesn't really initiate a conversation with anyone in the halls or in class, but always gives you the time of day without hesitation.

• will offer to walk you home/give you a ride

[blankwashed]

Content Warnings: 18+ stuff here, ddlg (daddy dom, little girl), broken family, pretty rough sex, Toji himself should be a warning-

You let out a big sigh. It was probably the hardest or easiest essay you have ever gotten academically. It was an easy question for the rest of your classmates as they were happily writing away about their parents or guardians, thinking about the happy holidays and birthdays that they have received throughout their life.

15 minutes have passed and your paper was still blank, without even a paragraph structure. What could you write about your father? Sure, he wasn’t your actual father per se but your mother married him ever since you were a child so that counts, right?

At the age of 6, your mom kept going out on Friday nights, leaving you to be taken care of by your aunts and uncles. She would leave until it was Sunday night when she picks you up and brings you home. In the mind of a little child, you figured she went out for work purposes but in reality, she was going on dates with a special man whom you would eventually call dad.

Sometimes, she leaves you at home with food already prepared and brings him over. Of course, she would place your toys around the television and goes into the bedroom with the man. As you were innocent, you thought that they were both talking about business as your mother always looks pleased whenever she comes out of the room. A little tired, but a smile on her face.

This went on for 2 years until she came to you saying that you’ll finally have a father figure in your life. Of course, he was your father. The striking, muscular, tall man built like a soldier. Sometimes he made your heart beat faster and louder when he was around the home minding his own business. He watched you grow up into the gorgeous and pretty girl you are now. Attending teacher-parent meetings when necessary, signing documents and being your personal chauffeur whenever you and your friends wanted to go for outings to malls.

Behind all of that, you kept a deep and dark secret from everyone. Something you would not even tell your best friend or even a fly.

“Nyah! Daddy, sore from P.E. class yesterday! My teacher asked us to run laps and I think I overdid myself-“

He thrusted himself deeper into your dry pussy while his fingers were forming quick circles around your clitoris.

Sure, he filled the gap in your mom’s life when your actual dad left. But that wasn’t the only thing he was filling. Toji isn’t blind or stupid. Maybe a little out of his mind but as a man, he watched you grow up. Breasts forming, hips enlarging. It would be a lie if you say you didn’t secretly touched yourself thinking about him.

“No buts, bitch. Today was a hard day at work and the only thing that could make my day is your tight pussy. Mmm, thankfully it’s still tight,,,,,” He pushed himself deeper multiple times while playing with your clit. You were in pain due to the lack of foreplay and you remembered an idea you had in school during Arts class.

It was always something you’ve wanted to try. Running towards your school bag, rummaging through all your utensils.

Found it. A thick flowy strip of red ribbon.

“C‘mere daddy, let me decorate you before I feast on you,” smirking while tying a beautiful ribbon around his leaking hard cock. “Look daddy! It’s giving me a reward for making it look so appealing~” you said, referring to the trickles of pre-cum dripping.

Toji was about x years older than you. This wasn’t the first time he saw a chick gawking (no pun intended) at his length. Obviously that was also the way your own mother knew that he was the man for her.

“Getting creative, are we? Let daddy reward you for giving our play-time a little more effort,” he says lowly while playing with your left nipple with his tongue. His big hands always perform wonders on the rest of your body while his prize winning cock was busy elsewhere on your body.

Your moans were and are melodies to his ears. You weren’t big on being able to form sentences while getting fucked silly, however…

“Please daddy! I-I’m your little dirty slut, make me come daddy! I need it, I NEED you! Daddy…” you tried to touch your clit with your fingers but they were swatted away by his hand.

“When has it ever been about what you want, toy?” he spit on your pussy, and started to rub vigorously. It was in no way pleasurable and it hurt.

You knew he was doing this on purpose and knew that it wouldn’t get better if you kept disobeying his commands. With both your mom and Megumi away, he made you sit on the family’s dining table. Pushing away everything that could be in the way of him and you.

He pushed you down, readying himself to slurp on his wet, awaiting treasure. You were still a mess, moaning and screaming his name. “Daddy please, don’t make me wait any longer, please daddy,,,” your toes start curling and you could feel the long awaited climax reaching.

“Cumming daddy!!! Shit, I fucking love you-“ you screamed as you came while holding onto his broad shoulders. Your mind was as if it was in a different world, a world where Toji, your step-dad was yours. Where you didn’t have to hide your feelings towards him and you could touch him romantically and sexually in public.

so fucking horny for toji, are we???? (we as in me)

[vibratingskull]

Hiiii I love your fics so much that I'm genuinely suffering from Yandere Thrawn Brainrot 😭 can I pretty please request Yandere Thrawn x fem reader where the reader is just accepting of his behaviour? like maybe she's a rebel who has been just abandoned by her friends so she just gives in because actually the attention he gives is really nice when she behaves or maybe she's one of the emperors daughters who is always kind of forgotten about in comparison to her sisters so Thrawns attitude isn't a red flag for her because he treats her so nice and has never once sidelined her or forgotten anything about her! I just think it's an interesting idea to play with like I'm sure Yandere Thrawn would be ecstatic to have a partner who doesn't bat an eye to his behaviour and soaks it up desperately, even the brothel fic you made could fit with Yandere Thrawn (look at how bad the brainrot is LMAOOOOO) ofc I'd have to request some smut in it like maybe he eats her out on his command chair 🤭 (that's all I can think about since the last Yandere thrawn AU you just posted haha make it as crazy as you want it to be tbh I love giving you full reign over this your smut is like high quality wine for me at this point!) Anyways! Before I get completely off track and send you a whole essay of ideas I just wanna say that I cheered when I saw your requests open and you don't have to write this idea or if you prefer to tweak it then that's absolutely fine! I hope you're doing amazing and I'm looking forward to your beautiful creations!!!

Yandere Thrawn is best boy, you cannot change my mind! He can be a murderous psycho or a complete puppy if you play your cards well. Aaaaaaaw thank you dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I'm really happy you like my silly stuffs, even the smutty ones (i'm so not confident about those), it will be a 2 parters !

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags: Yandere behavior (duh), possessive, painting, meet cute

You sigh, sitting alone at the table. You make your drinks twirl in your glass, silently observing the ballroom. Your hand supporting your chin you look at the couples dancing, the lively discussions around the room, the laughs and smiles, the kisses exchanged behind closed doors, and the champagne flowing freely. 

You catch one of your sisters dancing with a suitor, a metal and gaz magnate infinitely rich, they have been glued to one another during the entire party. You turn your head to see another one leading a political discussion with her natural charm, they all laugh at her witty comebacks and believe every word she speaks like gospel. You turn again to see your third sister on the stage, singing softly a beautiful melody, admired by the rest of the audience. 

And then there is you... 

The fourth. 

The last one. 

You do not have the charisma, the talent, or the political gene to rival any of your sisters. No one knows what to do with you. Everyone planned a beautiful future for all your three sisters to make the Empire shine brighter but you? Nobody has any idea. All your professors searched for a secret talent, a hidden jewel, hoping you are simply a late bloomer. 

But nothing came. 

Oh, you tried. You tried so hard! Spending sleepless nights working on your studies to at least hope for a well-made brain. But you are so average, both in looks and intellect. Nothing shines about you, nothing is worth noting. 

You sigh and finish your drink. 

Your only little quirk is your paintings. That’s the only thing distinguishing you from your sisters, you not failing art class. It is quite fondly regarded when you’re five but when you’re an adult princess of the Empire you need other qualities and skills than a good brush move. 

You just wanted to go to art school and live simply, not that overdramatic life wrapped in politics and secrecy. You wish not for the power and the riches, they bring you too much headaches. You want to leave the Palace, find a small apartment, get a cat, and for everyone to forget your existence and leave you in peace. 

But no... Not a chance. 

This very party is a shining example. It is officially a diplomatic meeting between high political top hats but the true goal of your father is to show off his daughters in the hope you find a future husband, wealthy and powerful, and then marry you off. 

Nothing more. Nothing less. 

You are a prop to your father’s politics. Good to lure a man and his funds into the imperial bank. 

And right now you are failing spectacularly. Now that you mind per se, but the man you call father and emperor will inevitably learn about that and you don’t want to anger him. You still value your life. 

You sigh again mentally preparing yourself to stand up and try to “seduce” men, feeling a headache rising, when- 

“Will you allow me to join you?” A rich deep voice makes you turn your head. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn, a hand on the back of the other chair of your table, is looking at you with a small grin and sparkling eyes. 

“Oh...” You can only say, surprised for him to spawn out of nowhere, “I mean yes! Of course Grand Admiral.” 

“Thank you, your majesty.” He bows his head. 

He elegantly sits down next to you. Even his manners are impeccable, full of grace and dexterity. You feel so slow and clumsy next to him. You see his long, delicate fingers hovering over the canapes before choosing one and lifting it to his mouth to bite into it.  

Maker, even Military officers are more dignified than you... You subconsciously straighten your back to at least match the energy he brings to the table, trying not to appear too sluggish.  

You know this man for being the first and only alien to have reached the Grand Admiral rank, which is really impressive, you will give him that. He always struck you as a balanced and polite man. He revealed himself as an art enjoyer on your first meeting and very nicely proposed himself as a model for male anatomy. You accepted and you meet every other month when he comes back from his campaigns. He lets you draw and paint his body in silence for long hours before coming to take a look and give you advice from time to time. 

And then he leaves. And that’s the end of that. 

Or it is the end of your relationship because he seems to roam around the residency aisle of the palace a lot. Numerous times you caught the back of his head disappearing behind a corner when you left your studio after a long painting session. You have no idea what he comes here for in the residency wing of the Palace, nothing interesting for a Grand Admiral around here. 

As a matter of fact, you do have an idea why he comes to this part of the Palace, you suspect he comes to visit one of your sisters regularly. And he must be seriously enamored for risking the wrath of the Emperor! You don’t even want to imagine his reaction if he discovered the Alien got access to one of his dear eldest! 

You just hope the sister in question takes her precautions to not get caught. 

That would also be a huge waste for the Grand Admiral, if an alien such as him managed to reach this rank it means he must be terribly good at what he does! Not that the Emperor shares any tactical info with you, his daughters, it is a simple observation. And he looks rather dashing too... Your vain side would be devastated to learn such a handsome man would be executed, that would be such a loss for the Galaxy you nod to yourself. 

You remain silent, observing the guests and your sisters shining in their dresses and jewelry. They are so radiant, you think with envy. Typically the type of women a man as handsome as the Grand Admiral would pursue, they are in the same league. 

Contrary to you. 

You start feeling a tingle at the back of your neck and you turn your head to discover Grand Admiral Thrawn silently looking in your direction smiling softly. You spin your head again to see what he might be watching with such tenderness in his red gaze, only to see... 

Nothing?  

You frown. 

“It is you I am looking at.” Thrawn’s deep voice rises again, with a touch of controlled amusement. 

You turn back to him with an embarrassed smile. 

“Oh, I just thought you saw... Nothing.” 

He tilts his head slightly. 

“What did you think I saw?” 

“I don’t know, something interesting.” You take your glass to your lips to sip, feeling your throat going dry. 

“But I am looking at something interesting. The most interesting person in this room.” 

Oh okay. 

You know where this is going, you know that sweet sugary tone. 

“What do you want Grand Admiral?” You put your glass back with a clank, “What demand do you want me to ask my father?” 

He cocks his head again, squinting like he didn’t understand your question. 

“I have no demand to ask your father.” 

“Of course you don’t.” You snort. 

They always do that. Come with a sweet voice and a compliment and then beg you to interfere with your father in their favor. 

You are no political genius but you recognize a freeloader when you meet one! 

“You always come to me! You think I am the weakest and easiest to manipulate for your benefit, you come with doe eyes and then ask outrageous demands, in the hope of gaining political powers. Well, I am sorry, go knock on another door!" You speak irritated but low to not start any drama. 

Vice Admiral Thrawn blinks at you. He shakes his head, trying to disarm the situation. 

"I assure you, Your Majesty, I did not come to ask any political favors of any kind.” He reiterates softly, “I simply saw you, so beautifully dressed and dolled up and could not help but come to you.” 

You sniff with disdain. Lies. If he doesn’t want political favors from your father then he wants access again to one of your sister's beds, another classic you had to deal with!  

“I am sorry Grand Admiral.” You say coldly, “I have nothing to give you.” 

His smile widens and you hear a low chuckle. 

“But on the contrary, it is me who wants to give you something, Your Majesty.”   

You look at him suspiciously as he takes something from his pocket. He puts a little box hermetically sealed in front of you. You tentatively take it and open the lid to discover a colorful powder in a tangerine shade. 

You look at him mouth agape and mute with surprise. 

“I heard you needed this shade to finish your latest painting.” He says softly, “I traveled the galaxy and found this powder made from local seashells in an isolated world. I saw it and knew I needed to get it for you.” 

This shade... 

Is the exact one you need, down to a t. 

“How... How did you...?” 

“That is not important, Your Majesty  I know how much you care about this painting and wanted to help you.” 

This painting, you saw it in your dreams. 

It was a flash of a faded memory of your dead mother, smiling at you before the sunset. Long, long ago... 

This powder is the perfect shade for her eyes... 

“Oh dear Maker...” You start sobbing, hiding your mouth behind your hand. 

“Your Majesty?” Grand Admiral Thrawn asks, “Are you all right?” 

You nod, wiping any tear that might have rolled down your cheek, getting back control over your sobs. 

“Yes... Yes. Thank you Grand Admiral, this is a very thoughtful gift.” You smile at him. 

Now you feel dumb to have given him the cold shoulder. 

But how did he know about that painting? You don’t remember talking about it to anyone? You specifically hid it behind a sheet. 

“You are welcome, Your Majesty. It is my pleasure.” 

His hand furtively reaches yours and caresses your finger with the tips of his own. You let him do it. You don’t know why. It is simply not unpleasant... 

“I just thought... I’m going to sound stupid, bear with me, I thought you wanted to use me to get close to my sisters.” You chuckle embarrassed, “It is a bit stupid...” 

“Why would I want to get close to your sisters when you are here?” He asks. 

“Because... I am just me.” You shrug like it is evident, “Nobody knows what to do with me.” 

“I have plenty of ideas of what we could do together.” He whispers, taking your hand gently to kiss it, his red eyes looking brazenly at you. 

You feel heat spreading on your cheeks. 

“Vice Admiral!” You choke “How dare... We are in the middle of a ballroom!” You chastise him. 

“We can leave anytime you desire...” He licks your knuckles with the tip of his warm tongue, looking insolently at you. 

You feel yourself melting into a puddle at that gaze on you. So many unchaste images cross his read shining eyes while devoring you. You feel stripped naked before him. You gulp and turn your head away, you cannot hold his gaze, you feel like you’re about to combust. 

He chuckles and kisses your hand again. 

“I am merely joking, Your Majesty. I know you cannot simply fool around with any man. But maybe  you will allow me this dance?” He stands up, still holding your hand but awaits your response. 

You gingerly look at him. Dear Maker, he is so tall... 

He looks at you with a small smile, gently squeezing your hand. 

“I... Can allow one dance.” You concede. 

“You are so generous with me, Your Majesty. I thank you.”  

He helps you stand and guides you to the dancefloor, his warm hand on your lower back. He spins toward you and grabs your hand, pressing your two bodies together. 

“Hold on to me, Your Majesty.” He says sensually. 

And he makes you spin and twirl on the dancefloor, holding you so close you can feel his high body warmth through your clothes. He is a very, very good dancer you realize.  

The dance starts normal and modest as it should be but it slowly dissolves into... something else.  

You can feel his large hands roaming your entire body, playing with the straps of your dress, raising the hem of your dress to touch your naked thigh, he grabs the pin and frees your hair in your back, he grabs your hips to press them against his in a sultry move, almost grabbing your butt... 

It feels like he is making love to you, fully clothed and in public. You fail to put a stop to it and protect your modesty, he is just so good at it that you blindly follow him, losing track of time. 

You gulp, losing your breath as he makes your head spin dangerously. He never once stops looking at you, devouring you with his shiny rubies, hunger lying deep in them. 

You are breathless, straps down your shoulders, your skirt high on your thighs and your legs trembling terribly, threatening to give out under you if Grand Admiral Thrawn wasn't holding you firmly against his tall body. 

“Gra.. Grand Admiral...” You can only say. 

“Is there a problem, Your Majesty? We are simply dancing, like I promised we would only do.” 

“This is not a dance! This is...” You try to get angry at him but your beating heart only pumps blood to your cheeks even more. 

“You did not stop me once.” He tilts his head, “If you said no I would have stopped immediately.” 

“Someone could see us! Someone-” 

“There are a lot of people around us. They hide you perfectly, no one will ever know. You can let go entirely, let me guide you...” He whispers sultrily in your ear.  

His hand on your back slowly caresses his way down towards your butt and his hand on your leg slowly brushes his way up towards your crotch. 

This... This is so indecent! 

So scandalous! 

So obscene! 

So... 

You should slap him across the face and ditch him there but you want more of it. You feel fire starts in your loin, slowly spreading in your veins, coursing through your entire body.  

Quite unexpectedly he lets you go. You look at him without understanding, he grins and kisses your hand gallantly again. 

“Have a nice evening, Your Majesty. Thank you for this... Delicious moment. I will see you for our next modeling session.” He rolls his ‘R’ like a purr and leaves. 

Did he... 

Is he the one who ditched you? At the height of the tension? When you were about to say ‘yes’ to him? You remain standing still in the middle of the dancefloor, mouth agape, breathless, hair and dress in a mess. You walk back to your seat, your legs wobbly at every step. 

You feel played. 

How dares he come around to set you on fire and just leave you, arms dangling, craving for so much more?! Such a ... Tease! You readjust your dress modestly, making sure none of your sisters saw anything of this... Outrageous display. None of them are looking in your direction, they are fully focused on their friends or songs. 

You sigh, feeling like an idiot. Typically a thing that wouldn’t have happened to your sisters, they would have either put a stop to it or enchanted him so much that he would have dropped to his knees, begging for more of them. 

You're the only one dunce enough to get played like that. 

But... You cannot help but like it. It felt good to be someone’s center of the universe, even for two fleeting minutes, feeling his daring hands exploring your body so... immodestly. No man ever treated you like that, even less a man so handsome... 

You shake your head. Stop that! It is blind lust speaking. 

Your eyes lay down on the little box. You reopen it, to be sure of its content. Exactly the pigment you needed, the exact shade and vibrance...  

How did he know? 

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

The first time he saw you was during an Imperial ceremony, from far away. The youngest of all the daughters, dressed in gold, pearls, and Orichalc. He was still a simple commodore back then, without as much power to himself. He was from very far away, not able to discern the features of your face, but it was clear from your body language and posture you didn’t want to be here. 

Like himself. 

Pryce was unavailable, a rarity for a shark like her to miss a political event like that, but she pressed him to go, to form alliances with as many senators as possible. How on the Warrior’s Blue Csilla was he supposed to do that? He is surrounded by sharks and snakes ready to eat each other for their selfish benefits, something so beyond him he simply forgets this is actually a thing people do instead of worrying for the good of the many... 

Saying he was terrified would be false, but saying he was comfortable would be a lie.  

It takes a lot to make him uncomfortable, but politicians always do the trick.  

So in a weird way, he felt kinship towards you. He knew nothing about you, he was not even sure of your rank at that very moment, but like him, you wished you weren't there at that moment. 

The massive difference was that he was anonymously sitting in the grandstand while you were on the big stage, to be looked at and admired like a pretty doll by everyone else. How uncomfortable it must feel... He felt sorry for you. 

Despite your discomfort, you accomplished your duties with grace, obeying your role. It was commendable of you.  

“Who are those young ladies on the side of the stage?” He leaned towards his sit neighbor. 

“Do you live under a rock? They are the Emperor’s daughters, the Imperial princesses.” He got chastised. 

He nodded thankfully and returned to his silent observation of the ceremony. 

It was not so long in retrospect, but isolated on this stage it must have felt like an eternity for you. 

After the ceremony was the real challenge for him, for two hours he had to remain comfortably seated in silence to observe a stage, now he was truly meant to go out of his way and meet politicians.  

He had to take refuge to the buffet or the corners of the room more than one time. Why can’t he read and anticipate politicians’ maneuvers? Why was he so blind to this type of warfare? After a new uncomfortable discussion that ended up with him pissing off his interlocutor because they couldn’t meet eyes to eye he caught a cozy area, almost hidden behind heavy curtains with sofas and a fountain, isolated from the rest of the busy party. He entered, hoping to find some peace and quiet but he found a young woman here, dressed in gold, pearl, and Orichalc. 

“Your Majesty.”Thrawn bowed respectfully, “I did not want to disturb your peace, I will leave.” He immediately excused himself and turned to go away 

When... 

“You may stay, sir.” You simply responded, not even looking up from your drink twirling in your glass. “I do not mind...” 

“I thank you, Your Majesty.” He bowed again and took a seat. 

Not on the same sofa as you, it would be terribly improper to impose his presence on a woman like that. He chose one a little removed from you to leave you in peace. 

He was gathering his thoughts, but you kept catching his eyes, something about you was...interesting him. And he didn’t know what, nor the true nature of his interest in you. 

“What?” You asked out of the blue, “You keep giving me side glance, you never saw a woman before?” 

“My apologies, Your Majesty. It was impolite of me” 

“Yes, it is. My father killed men for less than that.” You added acidic. 

Something in your tone and demeanor... Like a heavy lassitude, like you were crushed by something. But what? 

“I will keep it in mind, then. Thank you for the warning, Your Majesty.” 

You sniffed with disdain before looking back down to your drink. 

“So it’s you....” You finally added after several minutes of silence, “the Navy’s favorite pet.” 

He turned back his gaze to you, squinting. 

“The Navy’s pet?” He repeated politely. 

“The only alien in the Navy, and a Commodore at that. You pissed off a lot of people, my congratulations.” 

He was not able to judge if you were sincere or sarcastic. 

“I do my best to do my job. But some people never seem satisfied, I cannot do anything more to content them, I am afraid.” He humbly admits. 

“Like me.” You let out with a little voice. 

You did not say more and he did not pryied. 

“Why are you not enjoying the party, Your Majesty?” He asked, curious, “Your sisters are getting their fill.” 

You snarled in response. 

“If you came here to flaunt my dear sisters in my face you can leave, sir.” 

“My apologies, Princess. I was simply curious why a young adult would not enjoy such a party.” He explained. 

You turned your head and for the first time your gazes crossed. 

“What about you? You do not seem the type to enjoy parties either.” 

“My young years are behind me.” 

You frowned. 

“Are they?” 

Well technically he is still considered rather young for Chiss standards with their longer lifespan but for humans, he is middle-aged. But you don’t know that. 

“I am over 45.” He informed you. 

The way your beautiful human eyes rounded up in surprise was quite delectable. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I am not.” 

“You barely look 35.” You responded astonished. 

He came to understand it was a compliment on his physical appearance. Something he was not used to. 

“I thank you, your Majesty. You look ravishing yourself.” 

He stopped dead. Was ‘ravishing’ too much? How do you respond politely to a woman appreciating your physical appearance, and what is the proper and polite response when that woman is an Imperial Princess? 

You gauged him up and down before exploding laughing. 

Not one of those overly musical and false laughs of politicians and freeloaders, a true, pure, and sincere fit of laughter. Something coming directly from the heart. 

Something fresh. 

He remained still, not knowing how to react. Your laugh was quite pleasant to hear, and the smile you tried to hide behind your hand enhanced your features gracefully.  

“Oh Maker.” You breathe to calm down, “You are quite funny, sir!” 

He failed to see what was funny in his response but he was not starting to question a Princess. You sighed deeply, still shaken by the remnants of your laugh. At least you were smiling now, that heavy sentiment hovering over you seemed to have disappeared. At least for now. 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” He diplomatically responded. 

“So tell me truly, why did you come hiding here?” You asked, a bit more lively. 

This time he was the one looking down at his drink for a fleeting moment. 

“Politics... Evade me entirely.” He finally reveals. 

“Same.” 

He looked at you curiously. 

“But you are a Princess of the Empire.” 

“That doesn’t mean I can lead. I dislike politics. I prefer my studio.”  

A studio? The type he is hoping for? 

“What type of studio?”  

“Oh ... Just.” You gave him a side glance and lowered your gaze, embarrassed “No. You will find it stupid.” 

“I will not judge, Your Majesty.” He solemnly declared. 

“I ... Paint. A little...”You revealed, fidgeting your fingers. 

His heart jumped and all of his social anxiety and restraints lifted up like a cloud. You paint? It’s marvelous news! He loves paintings, why not tell him sooner? 

“This is not stupid, Your Majesty. Art is a very noble and respectable hobby, I am a humble art enjoyer myself.” He explained calmly, keeping his growing enthusiasm on a leash. “Would you have pictures of your work to show me by any chance?” He daringly asked 

You looked at him absolutely horrified.  

Please, do not look at him like that...It displeases him, even though he doesn’t quite know why. 

He likes it when women are comfortable with him, it is gratifying to be perceived as a protector. He wants you to feel relaxed around him. 

Especially you 

For some unknown reasons... 

“I... No!” You hurriedly responded. 

He tilted his head. He wanted to see some of your work. It is so important for artists to be seen and perceived for them to flourish in their talents. 

He just wanted to give you a positive boost... But you denied him. 

“I understand.” He responded, a bit disappointed to have lost this opportunity to speak about art. 

You looked at him, embarrassed before rising on your feet to close the curtain entirely, giving the little salon a cozy and very intimate atmosphere. You took out your imager of your little purse and approached him shyly, suddenly self-conscious. 

He looked at you approaching with an impassible expression, but hope constricted his heart. 

“Do you promise to not mock me?” You asked like you weren't an Imperial Princess with significant powers. 

No. At this very instant you were a shy, but hopeful young artist, ready to expose herself intimately to a fellow art enjoyed, pressing your imager against your chest.  

You were taking a leap of faith... 

And he was ready to catch you in his arms. 

“I never mock an artist, Your Majesty.” He declared with all the serious in the world. 

You gulped and sat down next to him, handing him the imager with a slightly trembling hand. 

“This is not very good...” You warned him. 

Who cares? If you are a beginning artist with a low level he will be more than happy to give you references and art currents to study to help you in your art journey. 

But you were actually really good with a brush. No need to get all shy about it, you should be proud of your paintings! 

You studied a lot of subjects and tried a lot of different techniques and materials, your style could be soft and appeasing with pastel colors, bold and brash with vibrant brush strokes, or gloomy and eerie, creating a haunting atmosphere. 

But no matter how different your paintings might be there was one very clear constant for him. 

Your innate good and soft nature. 

Not in a fragile or virginal way, no. But something bright, shining like a real sun, luminous, warm, inescapable, and unstoppable... 

How could you be Emperor Palpatine’s daughter? 

How was that possible? 

He silently observed your work under your worried gaze, awaiting his judgment. It is clear you hid this part of yourself from everyone else, and maybe he was the very first person who took interest in your hobby, the very first one you let gaze upon yourself so intimately like that... 

Because it was very intimate, he knew it. He stripped your soul naked before him and he ogled without any shame, taking as many details as he could. 

And he very much liked what he saw. 

Where were gentle souls like yours in the galaxy? They appeared so rare and he would very much appreciate one in his life. A friend honest and deeply good by nature... 

That sounds terribly enticing to him. 

He knew nobody on Coruscant, spending his entire leaves in art galleries. But maybe now he could visit them with a nice company at his arm? Simple rendezvous filled with passionate discussions about art, speaking and debating a subject until you both lose your voices and only look into each other eyes to continue the discussion. 

That sounds terribly nice... 

But you are a Princess and him a Commodore. How would that work? He was not even sure he had the right to be in the same room as you.  

But the idea was just so nice... An art partner, being friends with an actual artist, getting to witness the intricate process of creating a masterpiece.  

That is just so alluring to him... 

“So?” you asked with a short breath. 

“This is high-quality work, Princess. You have an undeniable talent and obviously worked really hard to get to this level.” He praised, “I can only encourage you to continue.” 

“You think... I could live on my brush one day?” You inquired, hope lying in your voice. 

“It is a real possibility, I can see it happening.” He nodded with a tight encouraging smile. 

“... Thank you.” You let him knew, “I...” 

You seemed to be about to say something else but suddenly jumped on your feet, the heat signals of your face through the roof. 

“I need to go! Good evening Sir!” And like that you left him, speechless, still holding your precious imager. 

Maybe the tension of showing your art to someone else for the first time was too much for you. This was quite endearing and he let out a little chuckle amused. 

He resumed his art exploration on your imager, he will find a way to send it back to you. 

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

He didn’t sent it back. 

He kept it, he has it every day in his inner pocket, close to his heart. He rummages through it when he can, seeing you through the pictures, getting to know you through each paint stroke.  

He innocently thought about you two becoming art friends to satisfy his knowledge cravings, but instead, he developed an... interesting bound with you. 

Without your knowledge.  

He tried several times to come to see you at your art studio to give it back, only to remain at the door, silently spying on you painting through the cracked door. 

He wished not to disturb the holy inspiration flow so precious to artists. He would break your entire rhythm if he knocked at the door and stopped you. 

How could he dare disturb the process of art? Especially yours? So he remained at the door for long hours until you decided to exit the room or he heard someone come by. 

When you weren’t here he forced the door open to tidy up the place and look at your last pieces. 

But one day you were simply preparing yourself to paint so he entered. Unannounced, unwanted he walked in like he owned the place. You didn’t see him at first, focusing on your flimsy sheets when you raised back on your feet to discover him observing your latest piece with attention, his hand holding his chin, appreciating every detail. 

“Oh dear Maker!” You jumped back. 

He turned his head to you with a tight smile. 

“My apologies, Princess.” He said not at all sorry. 

“What are you doing here?!” You asked in some sort of panick. 

“Your father requested my presence today, and I had hoped to be able to catch you paint.” He mundanely explained it like it was evidence. 

“And why is that?” You asked suspiciously, hiding some sketches behind you. 

���My apologies Princess, I got ahead of myself. I have something belonging to you and wanted to give back.” 

He took out the small imager of his pocket to hand it to you. He already has several copies and backups of all your art. 

“My imager!” You shouted, relieved. “Where did you get it?” 

“You actually gave it to me years ago when I was still a Commodore.” He explains gently. 

You took the imager back and looked in the gallery, with an elated smile.  

“I don’t think I ever caught your name, Mister.” You raise back your clear gaze at him. 

Of course, you knew his name, he was the only alien of the fleet, surely his name traveled the corridors of the Palace and he knew it. But Politeness and etiquette demanded you asked. 

And you are a very polite woman. 

He put his right hand on his heart and bowed to you. 

“I am Vice Admiral Thrawn. I am delighted to meet you again, Your Majesty.” 

You elegantly bowed back. 

“I am (Y/n) (L/n).” 

“Are you not a Palpatine?” Thrawn tilted his head. 

You bite your lower lips, like you spoke too much. 

“I... Prefer to identify with  my mother’s name.” You explain. 

“It is a very beautiful name, it suits you marvelously.” He reassured you, “Do you mind if I remain for your next session? I long to observe an artist in their element.” 

“Oh well...” You spin your head towards the holo clock on the wall and all of your glee seems to melt, your smile disappearing, “I am afraid there won’t be a session today... Yet again.” 

Thrawn squinted. 

“Is there a problem, your Majesty?” 

“No its...” You sighed deeply, “Another model ditched me apparently. He should have been here an hour ago...” 

“If you allow me, your Majesty, I can replace him if you wish.” Thrawn proposed immediately. 

“I...” You purse your lips, thinking “I usually book models for three to four hours, are you sure you have that time?” 

“I do today.” He answered politely, hiding his enthusiasm, “By a splendid hasard I have nothing booked for the rest of the day. I can model for you as long as you need.” 

He very carefully planned today’s agenda to have his afternoon and evening free after his visit to the Emperor. It will postpone some operations on the Chimaera, but nothing he cannot catch up on, he made sure of it. 

You hesitated, your gaze traveling from Thrawn’s stern face to your flimsy sheets. 

It is the fifth model ditching you. 

The fifth Thrawn got rid off.  

Cleanly. 

Discreetly. 

When he entered your studio in your absence he got the occasion to detail your work and picked up on your... attraction, towards those young men. 

Something that infuriated him greatly, even though he wasn’t sure why. He never felt like that before, longing for your presence, to get to know you better and well. This is a very new sentiment to him, he desires to be with you, to listen to you talk, to help you, to just be here in the same room as you. You could be silent and still, sitting on a pedestal and he would sit and look at you with all his attention, trying to pierce your secrets. 

Why are you doing that to him? Where does this deep sentiment of covetousness come from? Right now he just wants to grab your hand and flee away from the Imperial Palace with you, take the first shuttle and take off for the never-ending universe, take you far away from that man you call father and Emperor for you both to live free. 

He always feels so cold all day long, but in your vicinity, everything warms up, the ice melts, and the sun dares from its rays on his flesh, bringing him back to life and waking him up from a long coma. Laying his gaze on you he feels like opening his eyes for the first time and taking his first breath. 

Is that... Love? 

Did Cupid finally hit him with an arrow after ignoring him all his life? 

He quite likes how that sounds. 

He wants more. So, so much more... 

But for now, he looked at you hesitating, patient, with a tight polite smile of someone only desiring to help. 

“Well... If it isn’t too much trouble for you, I would appreciate it. What about a portrait to start?” 

“But of course, Your Majesty. I am here to serve.” He bowed his head again deeply pleased that his plan worked. 

He cannot help but wonder, how do you see him? Is he handsome or repulsive to your eyes? Is he powerful or weak? 

He will soon know it through your primary sketches... 

------- 

“What are you thinking about Grand Admiral Thrawn?” You call him back to reality 

Thrawn blinks, realizing he is posing for you once again in your studio. It is quite rare that he lets his memories take the forefront of his mind but his mind drifted off observing you painting him like that. 

You took great care to not look at him in the eyes since that party and he is greatly pleased by the turmoil he stirred within you. Today again you cannot look in his direction without your face’s heat signals rising. 

How delectable... 

You draped a long fabric on him and gave him a staff to hold, ordering his pose, and started to paint. Holding the pose is hard but that only pushes him to appreciate art even more. He feels your focused gaze skimming his skin, detailing his muscles, observing the crooks and crannies of his flesh, taking in the different shades of blue of his skin. 

He feels his heart accelerating with your eyes traveling his naked form. 

He never exposed himself in such a way to anybody before. 

It is so intimate. 

So erotic... 

He feels great under your gaze, he feels... Empowered. Like he could become what he was always meant to be under your brush, that through your gaze he truly could realize himself. He feels his chest puffing up with pride and satisfaction. That surge of warmth spreading in his chest and heart when your eyes skim his skin feels so soft and right... 

“You truly have mesmerizing eyes, I hope I will be able to do them justice...” You say almost to yourself, fully focused on your sketch. 

“We could do a series of portraits after, you could study them in detail.” He proposes. 

“Thank you Grand Admiral.” You smile. 

“Please, call me Thrawn, Your Majesty. I am a simple man at your art service in this room.” 

“Then call me (Y/n).” You decide, “Let’s just be a man and a woman for this afternoon.” 

“I simply cannot, Your Majesty. You are an Imperial Princess, I cannot address you with such familiarity.” He counters. 

Who is he to address you so casually? He will not strip you down of your titles and grandeur.  

You pout, visibly displeased by his response. 

“All right...” You say very disappointed. 

He clenches his jaw, conscious of his misstep. 

“If you truly desire it, I will address you as you wish (Y/n).” He responds softly. 

But in his mind he will keep using your titles, they suit you so well. 

You nodd enthusiastically, relieved by his new response. 

“Do you want to take a look?” You ask. 

He descends from the pedestal and passes on a gown to modestly cover himself, but he doesn’t close it, coming to admire your genius on the canvas, discovering himself through your own eyes. 

You take a picture with your imager that he gave back, adding it to your collection. His heart sprints at the view of the imager in a very Pavlovian response. 

He had... other uses for your imager. 

He will never admit it, not even under torture, but... He furiously masturbated several times using your art collection on the imager. He has no rational explanation for it. One day he was terribly bothered, to his utmost inconvenience, and hoped that some nice paintings could distract him. 

But instead  

He just got such a clear picture of you, of your good nature, of your amazingly sweet personality that he became hard like wood, worsening the situation. He found a self-portrait of yourself, looking straight back at him with such a clear and assured gaze... And he just lost it. 

He fisted himself, entranced by those expressive eyes looking brazenly at him. 

He never came so hard before, his entire body struck by lightning, setting fire to his very soul. He was left breathless and disoriented, his large chest rising up and down rapidly, your impudent gaze fixing him intently. 

The high was so high the descent was devastating, leaving him craving more of you, by any means necessary... 

That’s when he decided to enter your studio for the first time. 

Thrawn discovers the canvas. 

He discovers himself slouching regally on a throne like he is presiding over a tedious political case and is about to give his royal judgment. 

You remain a step behind, fidgeting your fingers. 

“What do you think?” You ask a bit worried. 

An idea flashes in his mind, a bad idea, but oh so delicious... 

“Technically very interesting and avant-garde. But there is something...” He teases sadistically. 

“Something? What? What is wrong? What did I do wrong?” You immediately panick. 

“Are you familiar with male anatomy?” He asks, falsely investigating. 

Of course, you are familiar with it, he saw you paint it plenty of times. 

“Yes! I am!” You protest. 

“Let’s see...” He gently takes your hands to place them on his large pecs. 

Your eyes round up in surprise and your breath is caught in your throat. 

“Feel the muscles, how they are built in the body.” He casually instructs while he takes your hands for a jaunt on his body, caressing himself with your soft palms. 

“Hum... Grand Admiral?” You try. 

“Feel where they start and end, where they cross paths and attach to the bones.” He slowly pushes your hands down his abdominals. 

You audibly gasp as he directs your hands on his naked body. While your body heat skyrockets in your embarrassment and confusion, he revels in the softness of your touch and the freshness of your hands on his thick skin. 

Your touch is delightful. Delicate and tender. He has all the pain in the world to not moan in bliss... 

He presses your palms on his abdominals, pushing them farther and farther south. 

“It is very important you understand how the muscles twist and bend.” He lectures you like you didn’t already know that. 

“Grand Admiral...” You press him more and more embarassed. 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. 

He takes another one and you do the same. 

He finally blocks you against the desk where you keep all your colors and pigments. You jolt when your back hits the wooden table, caged between his half-naked body and the furniture. He stops your hands on his groin region, right above his cock.  

He looks at your flustered face intently, how you evade his gaze and your heat signals are the worst he ever saw. He refrains from licking your face as he so desperately wants to. 

Your sex is irradiating a warm light to his infrared vision, well awake and demanding attention. He takes great pride in the reaction of your body to his daring advances, but you also appear tense. 

“Feel how my male body is different from your female body, feel it deeply... within you...” He whispers, looming forward to press his forehead against yours to look at your eluding gaze. He pulls your hands to wrap your arms around his waist as his own hands come to seize your hips, slightly slipping them under your corseted top to caress your smooth human skin. 

You cannot help the gasp escaping you, shocked to your core but indubitably... interested. Curious and craving for more. 

Still, the uneasy feeling remains in the pearl of your eyes. 

He presses your hips together and rolls his pelvis, delighting himself in your hot and bothered reaction. Your hands are trembling and sweaty but they hold on his lower back. You slowly and timidly raise your gaze to meet his, mouth agape and with a short breath. 

You gulp as he smiles, satisfied.  

Are you a virgin? Will he be your first? 

His heart pumps harder! 

You first... But more importantly your last! 

He lowers himself with a satisfied grin, but right before he is about to kiss you, he suddenly grabs your ass to lift you up and put you on the table, making you yelp in surprise. His hands lift your skirt to caress your round thighs, dividing them open to slide between them swiftly. 

His blood is beating furiously, his hands caressing and exploring your gorgeous body eagerly, mentally pesting against those useless clothes hiding your naked perfection to his burning rubies. You let out a weak moan between precocious fear and irrefutable excitement. 

Your hands circle his shoulders and you dig your nails into his blue flesh, to his utmost pleasure, pulling you tighter towards you. 

Everything comes to a halt as you look into each other eyes with heavy breathing.  

He wants you. 

He craves you. 

And he will have you! 

In one way or another, you will be his and his alone.  

He will rip you out of your father’s claws and build you a life of comfort and love.  He will hold you close and tight, showering you with adoration every day, worshipping at your feet. 

Thrawn taunts you with his lips, hovering them over your parted mouth, making your throat go dry with anticipation. He teases you with a kiss on the tip of your nose, before letting out a low growl as your gazes meet, you cannot help but moisten your plump lips with your tongue with a short breath.  

Thrawn hand seizes your lower back to pull you close and tight against him, his second hand embracing the back of your skull to pull you ever so slightly closer to his tempting grin. 

You look at each other in a suspended moment, listening to each other heavy heartbeat, feeling the sheer tension in the room before Thrawn lowers himself with the intent to kiss you. 

“Please... Do not hurt me...” You ask with a voice so low and feeble he barely hears you, tears in your eyes. 

He stops his motion. 

Why would- 

“Sorry for my late arrival Princess, I-” 

A man enters the studio unannounced, absolutely ruining the moment. You yelp in surprise, pulling on your skirt to cover your bare legs while Thrawn merely turns his upper body towards the intruder to shoot him with his glare, making no effort to cover his modesty. 

The man is clearly embarrassed to have walked in during an intimate moment, but Thrawn wants him more than embarrassed. He wants him repentant and desperate.  

“I am sorry, Sir.” You jump off the table, flustered, pushing your hair behind your ear to put up a front, “Thrawn, I present you Sir Hatway, a curator of an art gallery I invited to judge my art.” You gesture towards the impudent. 

The man clearly doesn't know what to do with himself in front of a naked Chiss. 

“Sir Hatway, this is Vice Admiral Thrawn of the Imperial Navy and one of my favorite model.” 

Thrawn heart speeds up at the compliment, but outside he is still shooting down Hatway, frowning, displeased. 

“Should I... Wait outside, Princess?” The impolite man asks. 

‘Yes he should!’ Thrawn thinks, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“No! No...” You hurriedly respond, “It is all right, you didn’t interrupt anything. We can look at my paintings now.” 

Thrawn gaze slides to you. 

What do you mean ‘didn’t interrupt anything’? He wants to ask impudently.  

He chastises himself. You are an imperial Princess. You cannot just fool around with anyone like that without consequences from your father, you must preserve your reputation. 

The insolent nods unsure, still uneasy, before turning towards Thrawn with a smile he surely hoped to be affable, but honestly is just pathetic. He takes a step forward with his hand extended. 

“Please to meet you Grand Admiral Thrawn.” 

Thrawn consciously takes his time to gauge him up and down from all his height, straightening his back to look at him with all the smugness his rank conferred him. He finally took the man’s hand to shake it. 

“The pleasure is mine, Sir Hatway.” Thrawn tightens his grip until the man winces in pain, “You will obviously not say a word of what you saw.” He asks, deadly cold. 

“N-no, sir. I saw nothing and know nothing...” He pitifully responds 

“Good...” The Chiss nods, venomous. 

“You can go, Grand Admiral.” You say, fidgeting your fingers, still visibly agitated, “We are done for today.” 

“If you allow me, Your Majesty. I am interested to witness your audition.” 

“I...” You bite your lower lips again, thinking, “All right.” You concede. 

When Thrawn exits the changing room in his pristine white uniform, Sir Hatway is no longer the pitiful man who entered the studio. He stands proudly before your paintings, detailing them and judging them imperially. 

You remain a bit behind, full of apprehension and hope. Like the day you showed Thrawn your imager. 

“This is not very good to be honest with you, Your Majesty. This is amateurish at best, and I am being generous.” 

Thrawn stops dead in his tracks. Did he hear right? 

“But I...” You try. 

“It will not be possible I am afraid. You should abandon painting entirely, this is not a world for a fragile flower like you...” 

Thrawn takes a single glance at the painting you are presenting right now. 

Your dear mother’s portrait. 

You spend long hours on this one, pouring your tears and blood in the paint to bring it to life and honor that woman. 

And that... Uncultured fool rejects it?! Calls it amateurish?! Thrawn never saw such passion in a portrait in a long long time! 

He heard enough. 

He walks to the man with three long strides, catching both of your attention. 

“Sir. I will invite you to take back your words immediately.” He said very coldly, camping in front of the fool, towering over him with all his height. 

“Who do you think you are to teach my job?!” The impudent retorted, any traces of the former shy man long gone. 

“Who do you think YOU are?! Is your heart so dry to be so blind before such a shining jewel, before such explicit talent, before such an evident masterpiece? I can not let you say such things.” 

The man looks at Thrawn afraid and confused but sticks to his guns. 

“No! It is my job to evaluate artists that wish to enter our art gallery and she doesn’t have the level expected.” 

“Can you not see she is ahead of her time? That she is avant-garde in so many aspects? I pity your gallery Sir, we must only find mediocrity inside.” 

“Are you insulting me?!”  

“You insulted her first.”  

“Grand admiral please...” You try to calm them both 

Thrawn raises his hand to sush you. 

“She has no talents, and no future in the art world. I am doing her a favor by telling her early.” He bites. 

Thrawn feels about to punch this man. 

Instead, he takes a step back and takes out his pair of gloves from his pocket, and throws them at the impudent’s face. 

“I will protect her honor, I challenge you sir.” 

“What?! No! This is getting ridiculous, stop-” You try to interject again. 

“Fine! Whenever you damn please Alien!” The fool retorts. 

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037 @davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @leo4242564

[magnifythesun]

Hiii so mexican salsa YES this post is a prompt! Feel free to change it to whatever you like, but I'd love a lil' story like this:

Ian and anthony are both very obviously in love and the whole smoffice knows it, but them lmao! I'd love this fic to be just text messages or slack posts or sth, where the cast and crew report of sightings of Ian and anthony doing very ianthony stuff and not realize it themselves. Maybe they come up w a way to show or nudge them in the right direction? But Ian and Anthony will still make it a bro moment (broment) bc they think the other one just wants to be bros LMAO ~ Japhan2024 💖

@japhan2024 FANTASTIC IDEA I have to believe that the Smosh cast legit has a secret group chat for stuff like this hahaha the looks on their faces whenever Ian and Anthony do something shippy is priceless

im going to wrack my brain for my favorite moments lolol I hope you enjoy!

(mid writing note: i first wrote basically all texts but it wasn't quite flowing the way i wanted it to so now there's a little more prose lol. this also taught me i do NOT know enough crew members' names)

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56346769

---

It took Erin less than ten minutes to create The Group Chat following the slapping video caress incident.

Erin: "okay so what the fuck"

Tommy: "i'm beside myself."

Angela: "SO WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT"

It began, and all hell broke loose from there.

Most of the cast and crew didn't know Anthony too well when he first returned, but everyone could tell Ian began to positively glow once he came back. It had started mostly with little under-the-breath comments about how big Ian had smiled at something Anthony did, or shared glances after they looked lost in each other's worlds. It's not that everyone wanted to speculate about their bosses, but rather that their bosses were practically giving them no choice.

The real watershed moment was the birth of The Group Chat, which finally provided an outlet for all ianthony incidents witnessed by the cast and crew.

---

Shayne: "Please tell me how Anthony managed to turn his smosh cast interview into an hour of us complimenting Ian."

Tommy: "i swear he practices in his car on the way to work"

---

Erin: "not them discussing deepthroating injuries for like three whole minutes..."

Erin: "while Anthony sucks on his rainbow lollipop......"

Chanse: "they are not beating the allegations"

---

Josh: "So this is I think the fourth video I've edited where Anthony has called Ian daddy??"

Josh: "WHAT is the thought process. I just can't put it together. is Anthony just like yeah I'm going to call my bro daddy about seventeen separate times with varying levels of seriousness and that's good and het and normal."

Erin: "Josh, istg you don't see the half of it. Come watch them film and pay special attention when the cameras are OFF."

---

Erin: "im losing it"

Arasha: "oh god. what happened"

Erin: "i am not fucking kidding right now anthony just called him submissive and breedable."

Keith: "WHAT"

Erin: "he said what he said."

Angela: "BREEDABLE????????????"

Erin: "in front of god and everyone."

Angela: "BREEDABLE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"

---

Tommy: "catching up on the main channel sketches and i just have to ask"

Tommy: "How many men can Ian date in his sketches until he realizes he'd like to date one in real life?"

Chanse: "don't SPEAK to me about it"

---

Tommy: "bicurious, hmm? Ian would you like to share something with the class???"

Chanse: "hes so deep in the mental closet his art is trying to scream it at him through his subconscious."

Chanse: "ive been there 😞"

Josh: "I've never been more prepared to edit a video in my whole life"

---

Angela: "Erinnnn not u directing them to stand closer together 😭😭"

Erin: "look I'm at my wits end. I'm thinking forced proximity might do it"

Keith: "if that could work they would have gotten it during kissing currency 😙💸"

Shayne: "@ courtney is this your thought process behind wanting a kissing video"

Courtney: "HA"

Courtney: "yes."

---

Courtney: "okay so if our plan at this point is just to make them read so many fanfics about themselves out loud that they spontaneously realize they're in love, we've got to find some fics that don't contain the word 'cummies'"

Angela: "what are cummies?? 😇"

Shayne: "ANGELA I SWEAR TO GOD"

---

As the incidents kept piling up, a plot began to form. Maybe Anthony and Ian were just so oblivious that they all needed to adopt a certain 'push-comes-to-shove' mentality, and do what had to be done. Everyone agreed, they had to find a way to put them in such a charged situation that this would all finally boil over, and the astounding tension that had plagued the office would be resolved. The ultimate achievement of this long-weary Group Chat.

Erin: "okay so one more time. everyone has talked with HR, yes? and everyone slated for the vid is comfortable with the concept of spin the bottle"

Angela: "what's spin the bottle? 😇"

Tommy: "STOP"

Shayne "1) Yes for the thousandth time, we promise. 2) What the FUCK are we going to do if this bottle never lands on Anthony and Ian"

Erin: "I will keep this shoot going as long as necessary."

Shayne: "That sounds like a threat?"

Chanse: "I'm suddenly regretting my decision. May I take my week's vacation right now?"

---

Erin: "how..."

Courtney: "did you see the look in their eyes????? :O"

Angela: "FATE WAS ON OUR SIDE. IT LANDED ON THEM THREE WHOLE TIMES"

Erin: "yes but,,,,,"

Tommy: "don't speak to me I'm still reeling"

Keith: "oh please don't tell me it didn't work."

Chanse: "i just have one question. how did they kiss THREE TIMES and still not realize."

Courtney: "they were both practically levitating from giddiness"

Arasha: "they just kept looking away from each other and laughing it off... they didn't see each other's expressions 😭😭"

Angela: "guys. guys"

Erin: "what"

Angela: "do u know what this means"

Angela: "now that we've pushed them over this hurdle... They're going to start bro kissing in their sketches"

Chanse: "oh my god"

Josh: "oh fuck you're right"

Erin: "that's it."

Erin: "im quitting smosh"

Amanda: "Oh hey guys! We have a group chat?"

Shayne:

[elinoracia]

🐍 Your voice // Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader fanfic🐍

Warnings: Jealousy, pure fluff, a kiss, not proofread. Total of words: 1.9k

Important informations: - All characters are aged up to 18 y.o. or more; 7th year. - Y/N = your name - My first language isn't english, sorry in advance.

Context: After 5th year, your friendship with Sebastian was not the same. You reconciled your relationship at the end of 6th year but, in the meantime, you got closer to Ominis who never gave up on you. He was always there for you when you needed to talk about anything. It seems like Ominis has a soft spot for you. Even during 5th year, he always seemed to be on your side and you could convince him pretty easily. Now that you and Ominis are finally friends again with Sebastian, his demeanor has changed around you.

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

You were walking with Ominis to your first class of the day. As you were walking, you were asking yourself many things about Ominis. You never truly realized it before but... how could he know if you were attractive or not? Would it bother him if you were ugly? It seemed silly to ask him those kind of things but you felt a wave of curiosity taking over your brain.

Y/N: Ominis? Can I ask you something? *you look at him, curious to know his answer to your questions* Ominis: *He turns to face her, his expression curious* What is the question, Y/N? You know I'll always listen. Y/N: Well...how would you know...a girl is attractive? *you frown* Would you like...try to feel her face or something? *you chuckle at your silly idea* Ominis: *He chuckles* I'm surprised you are able to ask yourself such silly questions this early in the morning. Usually, you don't say much thoughtful things until our second class. *he seemed amused by your thoughts* Y/N: Now you're just being rude. *you giggle at his teasing* But really, how? *you stare at him intensely, waiting for his answer* Ominis: Well, that isn't how blindness works. When you take away someone's eyesight, their other senses strengthen and allow them to navigate the world in new ways. So... I might not have the benefit of your sight, but I have better hearing, a keener sense of touch... and a better sense of smell than most. I find beauty in a woman's perfume, but also in the way she talks, in the sound of a laugh when she's happy, or her smile when she's amused. Y/N: *you look at him, lost in your own thoughts* I think I understand… *the question to ask him if he finds you attractive burns your lips* it's…it's really romantic in a way, don't you think? Ominis: I'm guessing it can be considered romantic, indeed.

You both arrive in your first class of the day and, as the class begins, you can't seem to focus on anything else. Ominis seemed to have become aware of your unusual lack of concentration. After you first class, he came to you to figure out what was wrong.

Ominis: You looked unfocused during our Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It's unusual for you to not pay any attention. Is everything alright? *he looked rather worried* Y/N: Oh, really? *you look away to avoid his gaze, even if he can't see you* Well...I was wondering something. I know it might sound really silly but... *you take a deep breath before blurting out the question that was troubling you* Do you...find me attractive? *you could hear the shakiness in your voice* Ominis: Is that the reason why your mind seemed elsewhere? *he chuckles at your question* Well... *he pauses to think for a moment* I would be lying if I said I didn't find the way you speak adorable. You have a unique cadence, a certain kindness and warmth about you, when you talk. I find the prospect of touching your face, your hair, your hands, a rather tempting one. *he said with a teasing tone to his voice* Y/N: *for once, you were glad Ominis couldn't see you because you felt your cheeks burning up* I-I see... *you didn't know what to answer, you just sighed and smiled* Ominis: Is that not the answer you were hoping for? Y/N: What? Oh don't worry, you answered perfectly! *you looked away, embarrassed and blushing* My next class is with Sebastian, I should go join him for herbology! I'll see you later.

You didn't let Ominis respond and you hurried to the Greenhouses. Sebastian was waiting for you next to the classroom. He greeted you and you tried this time to focus on the class Professor Garlick was teaching. But you kept wondering why Ominis seemed so distant when you were trying to hint your feelings for him. Does he just not like you that way?

After class, you tried to talk to Sebastian about it. You both had an hour before your next class started so you took the opportunity to talk to him about Ominis. Sebastian was already aware of your feelings towards Ominis but you made him swear to never talk about it to anyone else.

As you're talking about it to your best friend, he doesn't seem to give you the answers you were hoping for.

Y/N: Sebby come on! You must know something! *you beg him to tell you how Ominis really feels about you* Sebastian: Sorry but I really don't know. He doesn't talk much about his feelings to me. *he puts his hand on your shoulder to comfort you* Don't worry sweetheart, you just have to be yourself and be more obvious about it. He's a man and he's also blind so, you didn't pick the easiest person to fall in love with. *he laughs* Y/N: *you laugh* How could I be more obvious? Should I just say- *you take Sebastian's hands in yours to pretend you're talking to Ominis* Oh how I love you, please love me back! *you say dramatically, imagining in a theatrical and exaggerated way how you should announce your feelings to Ominis* Sebastian: Now you're just being a dork. *he laughs at your theatrics, his hands still in yours*

Suddenly, you feel a presence next to you. When Sebastian noticed, he let go of your hands quickly and cleared his throat. You also looked who was interrupting your conversation.

Ominis: I apologize, am I interrupting something? *he asked with a emotionless face* Y/N: *you panick at the idea of what the situation with Sebastian might have looked like* N-No! Not at all! We were...We were just talking about something that happened during herbology! Right Sebastian? Sebastian: Y-Yes! *he follows your idea without hesitation* Ominis: Anyway, I was here to talk to you Y/N. I realized that I might have been too forward when you asked me if I found you attractive. A compliment is one thing, but I realize now that I may have overstepped. Y/N: *you look at him, you feel your heart shatters in your chest. Why couldn't he just understand how you felt?* Oh...Don't worry, you weren't too forward. Thank you for your concerns though. Sebastian: *he looks at you with a worried look on his face. He knows exactly how this made you feel. He then turns to Ominis* Maybe she was just flustered by your compliment! *he chuckles, trying to make you feel better* It's not everyday a pretty lady asks you to tell her what you think about her. *he smirks and looks back at you with a comforting look on his face* Ominis: *he frowned at Sebastian's comment, he looked a little mad* Maybe you should give your "pretty lady" more compliments yourself. *he then looked away, almost shocked by what he just said* Anyway, I have to attend my next class. Have a good day.

You and Sebastian looked at eachother as you were standing there, in disbelief. As Ominis left, you almost felt guilty. Maybe you said something wrong. Why was he suddenly so angry?

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

You spent the rest of the day thinking about what happened with Ominis and Sebastian earlier. You haven't seen him at lunch, where you usually eat with him.

You then spotted him in a hallway. He was alone. You hurried to try and talk to him. You had to apologize.

Y/N: Hi Ominis... *you said with hesitation* Can we talk? I really don't like when you're mad at me... *you could hear the pain in your voice* Ominis: Y/N... *he seems hesitant to speak* I am not mad at you. Please don't think you did something wrong. Y/N: Then why did you ignore me all day? Why are you acting like that? Why did you get mad at Sebastian? *you looked at him, confused* Ominis: *he pauses to think* I just needed time to think. I needed to be alone for a short while. I don't...I don't feel like myself those last few days. *he takes a deep breath* But don't worry, I'm happy for you and Sebastian.

You froze. You couldn't even breathe for a moment. You made him think you were in love with Sebastian. And when he interrupted your conversation with him, he thought you were probably confessing to him.

Y/N: Me and Sebastian? *you asked, shocked* We are just friends! He's...he's just my best friend. What you might have heard was a complete misunderstanding! *you couldn't believe he was thinking you liked Sebastian that way. This just made your situation worse* You have to believe me! Ominis: *he frowns, not understanding the situation* I don't think I understand. Are you not in love with him? Y/N: With Sebastian? Not at all! He's really just my best friend, nothing more! *you look at him, hoping he would understand* Ominis: Then I just misinterpreted your intentions about him. I'm sorry Y/N. *he said calmly* Y/N: So, why are you so distant with me? *you asked, worried* Ominis: *he hears your shaky voice and then puts his hand on the top of your head in a comforting way* I'm terribly sorry if I made you upset. I was simply trying to not come between you and Sebastian. I did not want to say or do something inapropriate because- *he pauses, questionning if he should continue talking* Y/N: Because what? *you look at him, your heart is racing. You should tell him how you feel about him right now* I...I don't like Sebastian. I like you. I was just asking him about you. Ominis: *he froze, not knowing what to say* Y/N...You really made my heart race when you asked me if I found you attractive. I tried my best to not...let my heart speak for me. But I was afraid your heart was already taken. *he takes your hand and pulls you closer* I could follow your voice for the rest of my life. Sometimes I need more than your voice... You have to most angelic presence I've ever felt. Knowing you were probably in love with Sebastian hurt too much, that's why I was being distant. But I like you too. I love you. I always have. Y/N: *you look at him, blushing with a huge smile on your face* I can give you more... *you cups his cheeks with your hands and kiss him. He returns your kiss passionately, like he was hungry for more* Ominis: *he gently pulls away from the kiss* I've never wanted to see you more than I do now... Y/N: Well, my offer still stands. *you chuckles* You can feel my face if you want! *you say proudly* Ominis: Now you're being silly again. *he chuckles*

The End

[linkemon]

Love language headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Consider supporting me on Ko-fi.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

Rook Hunt • Words

• If there is anyone at Night Raven College who has mastered the art of speech, it is definitely Rook. The boy has been using flowery phrases since you first met. It has become so much a part of him that you can't imagine him speaking in normal words.

• His love language is words, so he naturally gave nicknames to the people around him during the time he spent with them. However, you are unique and that comes with certain privileges. You have already been called the Crown jewel of his heart, An angel with a divine face, and The most beautiful person the world has ever seen. Interestingly, if anyone else had said it, you would have thought of it as empty platitudes but not with Rook. You know he sincerely believes everything he says.

• First graders literally can't listen to the boy for long periods of time. His words are so sweet that it makes them all sick, as Ace put it...

• Hunt likes to give you poems in which he praises various aspects of your character. Of course, the concept of beauty must always come up but he wants you to remember that beauty is not just about appearance.

• Rook uses foreign-sounding words very often. At first you looked up what they meant. Now you simply ask him to translate what he is saying but sometimes you will be refused. Some things are more interesting being a mystery...

Jack Howl • Acts of service

• Something broke? Need help you with your bag? Renovation at Ramshackle? This man is definitely the answer to all your problems. At times you feel that perhaps his distant connection to dogs due to being a beast with wolf-like characteristics is responsible for his textbook loyalty. Once you have won him over, he will always be there, willing to help.

• His love language seems to be usually favors. He'll find or take care of Grim when you're having a bad day. He will help fill the hole when your dormitory roof is leaking. He will lend you his jacket when you are cold.

• You sometimes let him do things that you could do yourself. All this just to see his satisfied face and his tail moving left and right when you thank him.

• You're not as fit as he is. If you go for a morning training session in the forest on the school grounds and fall down along the way, you can be sure that he will take you ona piggyback ride. He doesn't take you in his arms because he's a little embarrassed that you'll see him blush. But you know what's going on in his head because his ears give him away.

• You especially like it when Jack's favors include manual labor. You then have the opportunity to take a closer look at his muscles. And there are many of them...

Floyd Leech • Physical touch

• Floyd is a walking fan of touch. In various forms. Mostly squeezing, which most Night Raven College students don't like. Fortunately, he doesn't threaten you with anything terrible in this matter.

• It started with Floyd simply throwing his arm around your shoulders. He would always tell you that he was extremely bored as he led you to Mostro Lounge. It wasn't long before he started literally hanging on to you if you weren't paying attention to him.

• Nowadays, a boy loves to give you surprise hugs. Sometimes you have to remind him that he has a lot more strength than the average person and that you need a little more air in your lungs.

• He likes to grab your hand unexpectedly when you're passing the school corridors. One time it got to the point that he didn't want to let you go and went with you to Professor Trein's class. You felt a lot of shame then, especially when he told the teacher that he couldn't be separated from his shrimpy. Only when Jade came to talk his brother out of the idea of starting an argument with Trein, he announced that it was over for the day because he was tired of sitting in the stuffy atmosphere. He then got a week's punishment.

• You once bought him a tiny rubber ball so he could squeeze it when you weren't around. He liked it so much that now he won't part with it. You can meet many dissatisfied people on campus who were hit in the head with such a ball.

[yersang-dreams]

How would Gon and Killua react to finding out their girlfriend is being bullied, and she didn't tell them about it.

Some girls in my painting class are teasing and mocking me and my friends almost every day, and I need some comfort 😔

Awhh, I'm sorry, I really adore artists whether they are small or big. I would love to paint but I can't do it since I have very shaky hands and I'm clumsy (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠). I don't know if you wanted Poly or separate but I went with poly! I hope you will be fine with it! Anyhow! Here you go!

AU: None

Characters: Poly!Killua Zoldyck & Gon Freecss

OS/HCS/IMG: Head-Cannons

Genre: Fluff and Comfort!

You are an artist who loves to paint landscapes and maybe animals that represent your lovely boyfriends!

Unfortunately later on during your art classes, a group of girls started bullying you and saying mean things towards you

For example "Wow your art is so ugly! Like you!" and more, they would hit you or mess your art materials before class and walk away snickering

You wanted to tell Killua and Gon about the bullying but since they're both usually busy with training or missions cause they are Hunters, you didn't want to burden them

Although of course they notice your change in behavior later on, they would see you laying down in your shared bed instead of painting

They knew painting was your passion and your favorite thing to do even in the apartment

Killua was the first to notice that your art materials like paint, brushes, and the color palette? Messed up and some brushes went missing along with a few missing paints

As for Gon well— He's a little bit naïve that Killua has to point it out for him

And everyday you come back from art classes, you immediately go straight to your shared room while Killua and Gon saw you run

Killua immediately opted the idea of spying on you in your art classes to see why your behavior has changed and why your materials are going missing

...

Well- Killua is fuming and Gon is a little little mad— They now found out that you have been being bullied by those...blond ass girls who thinks their art are beautiful when it's ugly

That's their opinion not mine

When you finally finish with your classes, the girls come back again but this time they are planning to kick you down the floor but unfortunately for them your boyfriends were there to save the day!

They immediately rushed to you before the girls could do anything to you, Killua glared at them while Gon hugged you. A rather very tight hug.

Killua told them off to the art professor and the principal by using his name as the Zoldycks, while you cried at Gon's chest

You were glad that you had them both, a fierce protector and a sweet boy who loves you very dearly

When the three of you came back home to your apartment, they immediately started cuddling you and whispering comforting words

"Your art is amazing [Name], don't let those girls stop you or let your artistic skills go down!"

"Gon is right, your art are indeed pretty, so if they ever try to do that again. I can grantee you that they are getting expelled."

In the end you three fell asleep cuddling, while Killua and Gon hugged you on both sides. You happily fell asleep with a small smile in your face

Such sweet and adorable bois<3

[crybabyddl]

Check You Out

Modern!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2

Warning: swearing, flirtation, alcohol, smoking, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, modern setting

Read Ch. 1 here!

Author's Note: By the way, Steve is 24 and the reader is 23. They both went to Hawkins High, but the classes were kinda big so they didn't directly cross paths. ALSO, I'm sorry, please forgive me for using the iconic, but overused "Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants" line. I saw the opportunity and just had to take it. Please don't think I'm cringe, thanks.😓

—

   The car ride to Steve's house was only about ten minutes. During that time, you learned he was a fellow Hawkins alumni, his favorite color is red, and he listens to Glass Animals. You couldn't help but feel envious of the fact that someone who was only twenty-five was driving a BMW 740i. But as you pulled into the driveway of his house, you soon realized his car wouldn't be the only impressive investment he possessed. You must've had a look on your face, because Steve assured you that this was his parents' house, not his. Apparently they were away for two weeks as they took a trip to Turks and Caicos for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. You were nervous about making a good first impression, but as Steve walked with you up to the door, he rested a comforting hand on your shoulder that made your heart flutter.

  "It's just a few of my friends from high school. You might even recognize some of them, actually. Were you involved in any extracurriculars?"

    "I was in photography my sophomore and junior year, and I did art club my senior year."

  "That's awesome! In that case, you might actually see a couple familiar faces." Steve's smile melted some of your nerves.

   You hadn't planned on drinking much tonight, but the idea of making small talk with people from high school sober was too awkward for you to handle. Thankfully, as soon as Steve placed the carton of Blue Moon on the granite kitchen island, he took a bottle and popped the cap off with the bottle opener on his keychain, handing it to you. It was still cold.

    "Thank you, cheers." you clinked the lip of your bottle against his own before taking a swig.

  "Look who's back!" You turn towards the sound of several pairs of footsteps coming from the adjacent room, connected by a large open entryway. It looks like a lounge area; perfectly designed for hangouts such as this one. The first face you see is unfamiliar, but the one behind it is one that you instantly recognized.

    "Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants," Steve playfully rolled his eyes. "Y/N, this is my best friend Robin and her girlfriend, Vickie." Steve put his left hand on the small of your back.

  "Nice to meet you Robin," you smiled and gave what felt like an awkward wave, but it was reciprocated by the freckled young woman. She looked about as anxious to be in a social setting as you felt, if not more so. "And of course I remember Vickie! We painted the set for Grease together. Nice to see you again."

    "You too, Y/N." she smiled, wrapping an arm around Robin's waist.

   The two walked off to the refrigerator in search of ice to water down Robin's drink, since she couldn't pace herself--at least according to Vickie. As you took another sip of your drink, you found yourself looking at the artwork adorning the walls. There weren't any pieces you recognized, but you had no doubt they were expensive. Steve ushered you toward a camelback sofa, taking a seat with you. You were met with four friendly, yet unfamiliar faces sharing the sectional across from you.

  "Guys, this is Y/N."

    "Hey, I'm Nancy, nice to meet you," she gestured toward the shaggy-haired guy sitting closely beside her. "This is Jonathan."

  "Nice to meet you guys."

    "Wait, were you in photography club?" The question came from Jonathan.

   You nodded.

  "Yeah, in my sophomore and junior year. Were you?"

    "I was. I actually became the president my junior year."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry, I should've recognized you." you felt slightly embarrassed that you didn't remember someone you saw almost daily after school for a whole year.

    "Don't sweat it, I was pretty shy back then. The president of photography basically just had to stay back to develop the photos." His response made you relax a bit. 

   After a moment, one of the guys occupying the large couch spoke up.

    "What, you're not going to introduce us, Harrington?"

  "I figured you'd do the honor yourselves."

    "We don't know her, man." the guy with straight, dark brown hair reaching his hips sounded like a stereotypical surfer from a 2000s movie.

  "Eddie, Argyle, this is Y/N. Y/N, Eddie and Argyle." Steve pointed to each of the young men with the neck of his bottle before taking a large sip.

   As the night went on, you learned that everyone--except for Steve and Eddie--was the same age as you. You still felt somewhat guilty that you hadn't made it a priority to befriend more of your classmates back in high school, but you suppose everyone was just trying to survive the hellhole that was adolescence. You bonded with Jonathan over photography. Nancy told you about her internship at the Hawkins Post, while Robin and Vickie told stories from pep band. You also learned that Argyle was from California and became friends with everyone when The Byers family returned to Hawkins after the earthquake. Eddie was into heavy metal, Dungeons & Dragons, and was working as a tattoo artist. Steve had only gotten up to grab the two of you your second beers once he knew you were comfortable enough to hold your own in conversation with his friends.

   By the time he came back, you were laughing along with everyone at Eddie's impression of the old, cranky librarian, Mrs. Davidson. Robin had stolen his seat in the meantime. Steve was glad you were getting along with his friends, but he selfishly wanted to spend some time with you one-on-one. In a serendipitous twist of fate, Robin just-so-happened to spill her drink all over your lap as she was showing you pictures of her aunt's dogs, for some reason unbeknownst to him. Nancy grabbed some napkins from off the coffee table, but they could only do so much to remove the pinot that was already bleeding into your work clothes.

    "Here, let's get you to the bathroom." Steve took your hand and led you upstairs, Robin's profuse apologies dwindling in the background.

   He brought you into a bathroom that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

  "It's a good thing I don't work tomorrow, otherwise I'd have nothing clean to wear." you stated as Steve wordlessly instructed you to sit atop the counter. 

    "Speaking of, did you want a fresh change of clothes? These stains need to be treated before they fully set."

  "If it's not too much trouble, that would be lovely, thank you."

    "Not at all. I'll be right back."

   You decided to use this time to do some investigating. You can learn quite a bit about someone by going through their bathroom cabinets.

   You hopped off the counter and opened the mirrored panel.

   The necessities were all there--toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, deodorant, and a razor. What you weren't expecting to see was the tub of Kevin Murphy Night Rider paste, along with a bottle of Rene Futerer mousse. You would've thought all Steve's hair needed was a bit of pomade ran through it, but it seemed like it took a lot more effort than that. Not that you minded, you liked when a man put effort into his appearance. You decided that was enough snooping for now, closing the door to the mirrored cabinet.

   A few beats later, Steve returned with a yellow t-shirt and a pair of sweatshorts from the Hawkins High sports catalog.

    "Thank you so much, Steve."

  "Of course. I'll let you get changed-"

    "We're adults, there's no need. You wanted to remove the stains from my clothes, right? Here." you found yourself taking off your shirt and pants, handing the articles to Steve. 

   He wasn't complaining in the slightest, but it was a bit surprising to see someone he'd just met a couple hours ago stripping in front of him. He figured the alcohol in your system caused some oversight of the more... sensual implications of taking your clothes off in front of someone. Again, not that Steve was complaining. Not one bit.

  "Would you want to stay the night?"

   The question leaves Steve's lips before he has the chance to second guess himself. It's what he wanted, and if he'd been picking up your vibes correctly, it seemed like you enjoyed being in his company. It only takes a couple seconds of silence for him to start panicking. Had he totally misread the situation?

    "Yeah, I'd really like that."

  "Cool. Alright, awesome," God, why was he bumbling like an idiot all of a sudden? "I'm gonna get some club soda for these and toss 'em in the washer. Meet you downstairs?" You nodded, and with that, he left you to change into the clean clothes he picked out for you.

   It was frankly adorable seeing someone who carried this air of confidence with him in a more vulnerable, sheepish state. There was no denying you'd found Steve attractive the first time you laid eyes on him, but something about those moments of accidental shyness had you blushing deeply.

   You held the clothes up to your face and inhaled through your nose. They smelled clean, but not overwhelmingly so. Truthfully, you were just thankful the shirt and shorts were actually clean. Most of the guys you knew weren't exactly known for keeping up with their laundry. You quickly realized it was kind of weird to be smelling a recently acquainted person's clothes, but you also acknowledged that it wasn't exactly conventional to be meeting Steve's friends and sleeping over at his house on what you were now considering a first date. Was this a first date?

   When you got downstairs, you rejoined the group in the living area. Argyle was in the middle of telling a story, but it was forgotten when he realized you'd returned.

    "Just in time, lady-dude! We were about to order a pizza. Any topping suggestions?"

  "Whatever you guys want is fine with me, honestly."

    "You sure?" You gave nod and a small 'thank you'. "Wicked, let me call this in. Be right back."

   Almost immediately after Argyle left the room, Steve returned.

  "Your clothes are in the wash as we speak."  he said.

    "Again, Y/N, I'm really sorry."

  "It's okay, Robin. It's not a big deal." you reassured her.

   As the group waited for the pizza to arrive, you took shots. Following the shots, everyone went out back to smoke a joint and dip their feet in the pool. Steve sat down beside you, causing you to tear your eyes away from the glimmering water glowing from the pool lights.

    "Are you having a good time?"

   "Yeah, I am. Thank you for inviting me. Everyone has been really welcoming."

  "I'm glad," Steve paused to clear his throat. "You look good in that shirt, by the way."

    "Do I?" you raised an eyebrow at the compliment.

  "Mhmm. I'd say you should keep it, but I also happen to like that shirt on myself." You couldn't help but chuckle at the somewhat dorky comment.

   After a few seconds of eye flirtation, Steve excused himself to the bathroom, handing the joint to Robin. It was barely ten seconds later that her and Vickie were seating themselves down next to you.

    "So..." Vickie started.

  "What do you think about Steve? Total douche, right?" Robin asked jokingly, taking a hit.

    "Oh, definitely," you played along, running a hand through your hair. "But seriously, he's really cool and I appreciate him inviting me over. This has been really fun."

  "We're glad you came. We should hang out more often," Vickie chimed in.

    "I'd like that."

   Robin held the joint out to you, which you gladly accepted. You took a couple long hits before passing it to Vickie, who walked it over to where Argyle, Eddie, and Jonathan were debating the best Nirvana album. Nancy was inside pouring herself another drink.

   Steve emerged from the bathroom a couple moments later, stopping to have brief conversation with her before he emerged from the house. He listened to the guys and their respective opinions, only to realize he didn't listen to Nirvana enough to contribute anything meaningful to the conversation. So he just took the joint and walked over to the pool. It didn't seem to bother him though, it meant he got to find his way back over to you.

  "Stuff's good, you tried it yet? Eddie's friend Rick grows it."

   He took a hit, slowly exhaling through his nose before passing it to you.

    "Yeah," you told him, pausing to smoke once more. "Sure knows how to roll it too. Shit's pristine."

   You passed it back and forth to each other a couple more times before Nancy walked by and asked if she could have it. You handed it to her with a smile. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed, almost like she wanted to say something, but she just muttered a 'thanks' and went over to where Jonathan was.

  "Yo, pizza's here!" Argyle exclaimed.

   Over the next two hours, the eight of you ate, drank, smoked, and laughed. After listening to Vickie tell the story of how her and Robin started dating, you excused yourself to the bathroom. Robin figured this was the perfect time to interrogate Steve.

    "So, when's the wedding?"

  "What are you talking about?"

    "Come on, Steve. I may be crossed, but I can tell when you're making goo-goo eyes at a chick."

  "Goo-goo eyes?"

    "Yes sir. That eye is goo, and so is that one," Robin points to each of Steve's eyeballs, pretending to go in to poke them. "Goo. Goo. Eyes."

  "Remind me again why I'm friends with you."

    "For the millionth time, your parents hired me," she rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance. "Please tell me you're planning on seeing her again."

  "I mean she's staying the night, so I'm definitely going to see her again in the morning."

    "That's not what I meant, but-" Robin stops herself, eyebrows raising slightly. "Is she now?"

  "Robin, don't you dare say anything stu-"

    "Y/N!" Without another word or care in the world, she sets off toward her with a sing-song-y voice.

  "-pid."

     God damn it.

    The only thing Steve could do now was pray that Y/N still wanted to stay the night after whatever bullshit was about to spew out of his best friend's loud mouth.

—

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you would like to be added to this series taglist. I haven't updated my google form for my taglists, so just leave a comment on this fic if you want to be notified when the next chapter comes out! Please reblog, like, and/or comment if you enjoyed and would like me to continue this series! :)

[corvus--rex]

Lance and Keith started dating early in high school, even before Keith came out and started his transition, and it's now just after college and they're engaged. They've been with Lance's family for the day, Sylvio and Nadia included.

The kids are 6 and 4 and have known Keith literally their entire lives. They were too young during various stages to understand what was going on, but they both know Keith's trans.

Needing a break, Keith is curled up against Lance in the living room, while Sylvio and Nadia are sprawled on the floor with a book each. Nadia's only just learning to read, but she already loves books. She's turning the pages, mostly looking at the pictures, when she looks up, interrupting Keith and Lance's quiet conversation.

"Tío Keef, why aren't there families in my stories like ours?"

It's been about 15 years since he's read a kids' book and doesn't understand where's she's going with this. "What do you mean, munchkin?"

Nadia puts her book down, turning to face him in all the seriousness a 4 year old can muster. "They all have a mami and a papi, but not - not -" her face scrunches as she tries to find the right word.

She doesn't need to find the right word, the realization of what she's asking hits him at full force. He sits up, leaning forward to meet her eyes. "You wanna know why there isn't anyone like me?"

She nods. "It's not fair."

It's an innocent question, but she asked it with such naive sincerity, genuinely upset that she didn't see her own family in her favorite books. It gave Keith an idea. He had a new sketchbook in the backseat of his car, a very recent art degree, and the few creative writing classes he'd taken.

Nadia's books didn't have her family in their pages, but maybe they could.

"Y'know what? I'll be right back."

He ran out to his car and back with the sketchbook, plus the mechanical pencil and ballpoint pen from his bag, and sat down on the floor with her, meeting Lance's confused look asking what the hell he was doing with one that said "trust me".

"Ok, munchkin," he said to Nadia, "If your stories don't have our family in them, how about we make a new story?"

Nadia's face lit up. "We can make a new one? With our kind of family in it?"

"We can, but I'll need your help."

Sylvio was pretending to read his own book, but Lance could see him listening in and sneaking looks at the rough sketches. That didn't last long, the book quickly forgotten in favor of throwing out wilder and wilder ideas for the story with Keith gently reeling him in. Sylvio was not one to be reeled in, and Lance soon joined them on the floor to help wrangle the kids' enthusiasm. They stayed there for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, neither one wanting to leave when their parents came to tell them it was time to go. They only stopped fighting it when Keith promised them they'd work on the story again.

He kept that promise, taking the kids out every few weeks, showing them what he'd done in between when he had time, and them continuing the story and illustrations.

After it was finished, he left it for a while, not forgotten, but resting. Eventually, he pulled the illustrations and their companion sheets of text from the shoebox-like storage box he'd gotten just for this, matching art to words.

Lance came home from work to their apartment that evening to find Keith on the living room floor, bristol board and printer paper in an organized chaos around him.

"Think it's really done?" Lance asked.

Keith sighed and leaned back against the sofa. There was one thing about the book he hadn't told anyone yet, but after the email he'd gotten earlier in the day, he finally could.

"Yeah I do." He paused and looked up, a little bit guilty, but mostly trying to contain excitement. "I found a publisher for it. They're a queer-owned company. I actually sent it off about a month ago and I finally heard back today. They love it."

It had started as a picture book, but evolved since then into something a little bigger. Nadia wanted cats - all different colors, and not little kitties, no she wanted lions. And the lions had to have knights to ride on them. Sylvio was the one to insist on a princess and that she had to be their honorary Tía Allura. Gradually, all of the knights and princess ended up based on people the kids knew, Keith and Lance included. It made sense and Keith loved it and the idea of family including the one you make for yourself.

When it came time for a name for this story of found family and adventures, Sylvio yelled "Defenders of the UNIVERSE!" at the top of his lungs in the middle of the park. Nadia had been taking a break from the playground, sitting next to Keith with her coloring pad. She'd drawn the lions from their story, facing out in a vaguely star shape, their tails meeting in the middle.

Keith asked for her opinion on a story name and also what she was drawing and without looking up from her coloring, she said "Its name is Voltron."

Keith put the two together, and when the book was published, its cover was the lions Nadia had drawn that day, only by Keith's hand this time, framed on top and bottom by the book's name: Defenders of The Universe, a Voltron story.

No one had seen the dedication, not until Keith got the advance copies, giving one each to Sylvio and Nadia in the same living room the story had started in. Nadia climbed into Keith's lap with it, Sylvio squeezing himself in between Keith and Lance on the sofa.

Looking over Sylvio's shoulder, Lance read it aloud.

"For Sylvio and Nadia, the original Defenders, this book wouldn't exist without you. Don't stop reading or dreaming."

[prettyoddfever]

why are you so against ryden

I'm literally only pointing out why specific examples of "Ryden proof" don't work, or were misinterpreted by people who don't know much about the band. If me being pro-reality means that you consider me anti-Ryden then, uh… you might want to examine that more.

As long as we're on this topic, I'm going to expand on an older post here and go off on a tangent:

I actually loved the Ryden part of the fandom in the pre-split days! Ryden felt like a fandom-wide inside joke that united so many fans and sparked so much creativity (sometimes it reminded me of inventing bs symbolism in english & art classes lol). I didn’t read the slash, but it’s not like those kids stayed exclusively over in their communities… they were everywhere. A lot of my favorite accounts were massive Ryden fans & fic authors. but even the most die-hard shippers in 2006 & 2007 would scoff if new fans asked if they were ever being serious with their comments. It was all just entertaining wish fulfillment done to amuse themselves. They would act like it was a legit alternate reality and write long funny primers & posts like “look guys, they are in love. this is facts… here I go with my proof," but when it came down to whether or not they actually thought it was real… no, of course not. The fanfic authors were the first to laugh and say they weren’t hurting anyone because nobody actually believed Ryden was real and everyone was on the same page. They argued that every single band had a slash community and it just came with the fame. Some fans genuinely wanted Ryden to be real, while others thought it was entertaining how you could cherry-pick events & isolate them from any context to make Ryden look plausible. And both groups were taking matters into their own hands by trying to tie enough pictures & random dots together to make it look like a happy alternate reality that satisfied everyone. It was funny.

The majority of the pre-split fandom understood that Ryden wasn’t real, so people were on the same page when they shared their “proof.” It was like an inside joke. For example, I’ll argue that unicorns could be real because I know that the person I’m talking to is aware of reality. I can get as creative as I want and just have fun because we’re both on the same page… and the other person will be like “well yes of course they’re obviously real.” It looks like we agree. But that does not mean that we truly believe it lol... we're just bored & entertaining ourselves. Someone else who is unsure whether or not unicorns actually exist might read our convo and conclude that we are certain unicorns are real and have proof! But I never intended for my silly convo with my friend to be taken that seriously.

For me, Ryden was more about the fandom. It was just fun to see a picture or new moment and wait to see if anyone else spotted the same potential too. The slash accounts across different sites/forums would even make fun of themselves for how far they would go to make everything fit Ryden. At times it felt like an affectionate joke about the band and the fandom. 

I’d say the Ryden craze first took over with the huge surge of new fans during the summer 2006 tour (around the time Brendon & Ryan started fully going for the mic sharing each night). This was back when the band still read the forums and different fan sites and were trying to get a sense of what their fans were saying (such a bad idea lol). I was never totally clear on where the guys stood on Ryden in 2006 but it seemed like they were in on the joke… but it was so confusing at the same time. Like one minute they’d complain about the disgusting “pornfiction” in an interview and the next minute they’d be hamming it up for meet & greet pictures. Bden would practically hump Ryan’s leg during a show and then Ryan would suggestively run his hand up Bden’s thigh during a meet & greet exactly when he knew fans were watching… and then they’d both act like they didn’t get why fans ever came up with stories about them. I’m not saying their actions meant they were asking for something btw. I’m just saying that it’s equally true that the guys would claim they weren’t huge on Ryden and that they intentionally fueled the fire to get fans to laugh/scream at the right time. The band was super aware that the Ryden fans were a huge part of the fandom who drove a lot of the hype online… so it seemed like in late 2006 the guys were just trying to connect with a fanbase they were being quickly distanced from as they got more & more famous. Then in 2008 the guys intentionally added extra Ryden elements to their stage routine because they knew what a lot of fans still wanted to see.

So my conclusion was that it was all in good fun (except making suggestive comments to the band irl was horrible… people were even saying some seriously gross stuff to Zack about the boys and taking it waaaaay too far). During the lull of 2007, and even into 2008, there seemed to be a whole section of the fandom that was more invested in their fanfic communities than the irl band (they’d often come onto other boards & communities to ask for facts or details for their fanfics and watching the replies they got was like watching a really bad game of telephone haha so I’m guessing those plots diverged from reality pretty quickly). New fans were also being introduced to the band through fanfiction and seemed more intent on just spotting Ryden moments and learning the fanfic version of history rather than any real-life history. So by late 2008 there was definitely a small crowd who was taking Ryden more seriously and also understood less about the band. But I wasn't always sure if their tone was totally serious or not, because the joking posts had often been written in a serious tone too.

Side note on that: when I started this account in 2020 I hadn't thought about P!ATD much while I had been sick for years. I was just trying to throw myself back into the mindset of 2006 and rediscover a time when my world had been awesome & I was healthy. So when I saw all the sun/moon theories that had formed after I'd left the fandom I was like YES omg this is amazing. I lived for that kind of stuff. But then it was confusing how the same people who were currently posting all of the “ryden was real” stuff were the same ones who would quickly point out that another one of my Ryden posts wasn’t what really happened or that a photo manip that I considered fun was actually fake…  I mean, obviously??? I didn’t get why there was any difference between everything. It took me a few months to get a read on the current fandom and realize that things weren't being done in the same joking spirit. I started struggling to explain why I was posting Ryden-ish stuff if I didn’t necessarily believe what I was saying (and again I’m having a hard time explaining here because it never felt like the fandom was making up crap we didn’t stand behind back then! we were serious that we believed it was a darn good connection/theory or photoshop job haha). Ryden used to be like this shared alternate lens to view events through that felt like teamwork to create. We would intentionally pretend like years of full context didn't exist and create our own parallel narrative that could coexist with reality in our minds. But now it feels like people are sharing "Ryden proof" for real as though the piles of creative nonsense are an actual recap of historic events... and you need to pick some kind of "side" to believe? Idk, it's weird. I dropped any remaining nostalgia connected with Ryden content and ended up shifting the tone & focus of my account to organizing actual facts, media, and info about events I remember.

I don't think it's ok that moments in the band's history are often distorted or erased in order to pass off certain examples of “Ryden proof” as real now. It would be a shame for ridiculous Ryden stories to be prioritized as key info about the band while normal info about band members & events gets ignored now (ex: turning Northern Downpour into some kind of Ryden thing totally erases what Ryan wanted to do with the song). A lot of people have told me that they don’t care what actually happened because they prefer their ideas anyways. And that’s fine, as long as you’re aware that what you’re choosing doesn't track with reality. (Also, I always felt like knowing the real events or original photos from a manip gave me more appreciation for how creative people were… but I suppose that’s because Ryden was more about the fandom for me).

SIDE TANGENT: I drifted away from the fandom after summer 2009 when I got sick, so I don’t know specifically what happened over the next couple years to get so many fans who were impressively uninformed about the band yet super intense about Ryden at the same time... but I'm also not surprised I guess. Some knowledge about the band absolutely faded to the background in the last half of 2006 as the overwhelming amount of newer fans invented their own answers and were more interested in freaking out over cute guys than actually taking the time to learn about the band. The knowledge wasn't lost, it was just drowned out for a while in the midst of their enthusiastic chatter. It felt like a waste of time to correct them too because they were absolutely everywhere and they weren't really harming anyone by screaming things like Ryan took his mom as a date to the VMAs lol. Maybe there was a surge of younger fans by 2010-2011 who didn't have the context to know what they were looking at too, and were very enthusiastic about Ryden? I don't know. This is all purely speculation on my part.

I actually don't care whether anyone thinks Ryden was real or not... that's definitely not my focus and I'm not trying to convince anyone of a "side" either. You can conclude whatever you want. My focus in my posts is simply to provide context for some of the inaccurate stories & examples that are currently being passed around as though they're actual history. I don't expect anyone to care. But at least the info is still available for any younger fans who might be interested in the real-life band.