#thinking about my favourite love square or whatever shape they have going on

[bougiebutchbinch]

megatron/starscream - A darkly delicious toxic (or outright abusive) yaoi, nutty notes. These old war criminals are clanging hatefully and with murderous intent. Rich to the point of overpowering. You will need your stomach pumped.

megatron/optimus - Your go-to lovers-to-enemies vintage. The other old war criminals are clanging, and making it literally everyone's problem. A timeless classic that pairs well with red meats and polished oak furniture.

skyfire/starscream- The cloying sweetness of old true love layered over the vinegar of divorce. Irrevocable change and anguish add a tongue-tingling tannin bite to this bottle. Lingers in your mouth for days.

optimus/starscream - Good boy meets bad in this fruity and light wine, with notes of hope, redemption arcs, and lots and lots of cuddles. Deceptively intoxicating.

optimus/skyfire - You might presume this to be a little bland, but the tragic undertones add chocolate complexity. A stable and gentle second romance after loss, too sweet for my taste but with hidden depths.

megatron/skyfire - I don't know who would drink this, but I want to study them

[djarins-cyare]

Here from your WIP post - please tell me about Refugees From TV Land?!

Yay, I’m so glad someone asked about this one! 🩵 It’s one of my favourites and the first fic idea I wrote down after finishing Be-All And Endor.

As those of you who’ve read my WIP folder titles may have guessed, I’m pretty obsessed with the whole ‘Earthling in the SWU’ concept. One of my most beloved Mandalorian fics ever (Short Debts Make Long Friends by @wrathkitty) features a Reader from Earth, and I’ve already described one of my Earthling!Reader fic ideas here.

Another of my favourite Mandalorian fics is Not My Stars by @keldabe-kriff, which is kind of the opposite – it features Din becoming stuck on Earth. It’s such an intriguing inversion of the ‘Earthling in the SWU’ concept that I found myself dreaming up my own spin on how such a situation could come about and what the dynamics would be like. I love the idea of Din being totally flummoxed by things we find normal and the reader having to help him adapt!

Refugees From TV Land is a placeholder title until I can think of something better, but I’ve got the whole thing plotted out and have written a few scenes here and there. I think the best way to illustrate the setup is simply to give you the entire scene where Din arrives, although I don’t really want to give away much more than that for now. So here you go – I hope you enjoy it! 🩵

Refugees From TV Land

BOOM!

You bolt upright as a deafening bang wrenches you from your couch-based slumber, shattering the enjoyable Mandalorian-themed dream you were having. The projector still hums quietly behind you, its vintage lens casting an achromatic glow over the room, though the show has long since ended.

Through the foggy confusion of your abrupt awakening, you scan the room, convinced that something has either fallen or exploded, and a mounting panic hits as you realise Yoda is nowhere to be seen.

“Yoda! Where are you, buddy?” That dog is a menace.

After a few seconds, the patter of claws on the hardwood floor signals your little hound has heard your summons. All you see at first are his huge ears approaching the couch before he leaps up to join you.

“What have you destroyed this time, huh?” you ask, already dreading the mess you’ll have to face.

Yoda huffs at your accusation before bounding forward to lick your face – either in apology or simple affection – and you collapse back onto the sofa, laughing as you fend him off with a few ear scratches. A quick once-over confirms he isn’t wet, smeared in food, or singed. It’s unlikely he’s caused too much damage, then.

“Alright, little guy, whatever it is, we’ll tackle it tomorrow. Bedtime now.” But as you try to kick off the blanket and sit back up, you swear you hear something else – a man’s shout, distant yet discernible.

Is someone outside? You’re about to get up and check when Yoda growls, and a cold shiver of alarm races through you at the possibility of an intruder. This place is so isolated that you’re not sure how to handle such a prospect. You freeze for several anxious moments, watching your dog for any clues about the threat’s origin.

Then, you notice something odd: Yoda isn’t growling at the door or the windows. He’s fixated on the blank wall opposite you, upon which the projector still casts a large square of light.

And that’s when you see it.

Shifting patterns ripple within the light’s confines – undulating shimmers that make the solid wall appear almost liquid, the shapes slowly gaining colour and definition.

Suddenly, Yoda howls, and your focus snaps back to him, only to see him doing his best wolf impression at the ceiling. “What the fuck…?” you murmur.

But before you can reach out to soothe him, a shrill, high-pitched tone slices through the air, forcing you to clamp your hands over your ears. Yoda abandons his howling in favour of barking instead, his gaze fixed once again on the wall. You look up and see… images! They’re faint but unmistakable – as if the projector’s lens is out of focus.

Wondering what on earth it’s projecting (since the DVD has undoubtedly ended), you reach up behind the sofa and fiddle with the lens assembly, twisting the focusing gear to adjust the aperture. The piercing tone has vanished, so you drop your other hand from your ear, noting that Yoda has now fully burrowed himself beneath your blanket.

So much for your guard dog, the little wimp.

As the image sharpens, you hear a man shouting again – but this time, you can make out the words: “There he is! Stop him!” Desperately, you twist the focus gear once more, trying to tune in whatever your projector is inexplicably displaying.

Suddenly, the image becomes vividly clear – a perfectly projected grey hallway with angular walls and glowing strip lighting. Your drowsy mind struggles to make sense of the familiar architecture and fathom why it’s being projected onto your living room wall when, all at once, there’s another boom. You jolt in shock, and Yoda whines from beneath the blanket.

Then chaos erupts in the corridor: flashes of red ricochet off the walls, and your eyes widen as a figure dashes around the corner. A figure you recognise immediately.

It’s none other than the Mandalorian – his silver beskar deflecting the red plasma as if it were mere rain in a summer storm.

What the fuck are you seeing? Is this an easter egg at the end of the DVD or something?!

You watch as Din tucks himself against the wall near the corner he just raced around. He peeks back out and fires a couple of blaster shots back the way he came while Grogu’s little pod zips around the corner, its top closed tight to protect him.

Suddenly, a door slides open closer to you along the corridor, and a stormtrooper steps into the foreground, taking aim at Din’s back.

“Oh, shit!” you gasp, fully immersed in the stakes of this bizarre bonus scene. But Din pivots just in time, firing his blaster straight at his would-be attacker. The trooper falls instantly, their own shot going wide and bouncing off the metal wall until it hurtles directly toward the camera…

…and into your fucking living room!

You scream as it impacts the wall above you, desperately wondering if you’re still asleep on your couch and merely dreaming this madness… until Din rushes toward you, shouting, “Is it safe there?”

This is a dream. It can’t be real.

Nonetheless, you nod.

And then he’s running toward you again, stormtroopers rounding the corner behind him, blaster bolts shrieking in your direction.

You cringe as elements from the show you love transform your cosy living room into a battlefield. Red plasma shatters an antique vase on your shelf… it singes your new oak coffee table and custom-made couch cushions… and the Mandalorian you’ve adored for the past four years dives through the wall, rolling to a surprisingly graceful stop on your rug.

Holy shit. This is a dream. This is just a totally realistic, scarily vivid dream.

But the shots keep coming, and the stormtroopers clamour ever closer….

“Close the doorway!” Din yells, rolling to his knees and returning fire through your wall.

Reacting mindlessly to his command, you twist on the couch, stretching up behind you to slam the on/off switch as fast as you can. But as the projector’s light flickers and fades, a few more blaster shots make it through the rapidly vanishing ‘doorway’ – and one catches your outstretched forearm.

The pain is more excruciating than any injury you’ve ever endured. You can’t even tell if you scream; you think you do, but nothing else exists beyond the searing agony of white-hot plasma eating into your skin.

It’s fucking glowing.

With the projector now off, the room is shrouded in darkness save for the moonlight streaming through the windows… and your fucking glowing wound.

You slide back down on the couch, clutching your injured arm and trying your goddamn best not to hyperventilate.

“Hey… let me see,” you hear, and suddenly, your fictional crush is gently cradling your forearm in his soft leather gloves. Din fucking Djarin is kneeling beside you, holding your arm as you hysterically gulp down oxygen and repress the urge to scream. Then, a gurgling sound comes from behind him, and you glance up…

…and wide brown eyes stare at you from between enormous batwing ears that illustrate exactly why you named your dog Yoda. Except… he looks real. A real-life Grogu with fluid movements – so unlike that jerky puppet in the show.

It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. Even your desperate, gasping attempts to take in oxygen aren’t enough to stave off your shocked mind’s overwhelming desire: to just switch the fuck off for a while.

And as darkness encroaches from the edges of your vision, you remain conscious just long enough to feel something tingly being sprayed on your arm. The last thing you hear before you pass out is a modulated voice that sounds remarkably like Pedro Pascal assuring you, “You’re gonna be fine.”

Sure. You will be when you wake up. Because this was all a dream.

Right?

[stinglesswasp]

Hi! First of all, I think your art is gorgeous and honestly whatever words I put here, they will never be able to do your art justice. I love your visual storytelling! Now for the actual ask part. How could one start learning how to draw? I have a STEM background and I have wrestled many times before with the idea of trying to pick up drawing and every time I see content creators, such as you, posting their works, it makes me even more motivated to get some scenarios out of my head and place them on paper. Right now I do it in writing but I would love to do something graphic about it too. Problem is, it can feel overwhelming to start as there are so many resources and stuff and it can feel like a daunting task. So, how did you start drawing?

Thank you so much and I hope you will always keep your passion for this craft alive and well. Be it CoD or anything else.

Hi, thank you for your kind words! I've been drawing since I was a wee baby wasp, but anyone can start at anytime. You're absolutely right that it can feel overwhelming, but I love that you're motivated! That's honestly half the battle. I can give some general advice:

Start small, like really small… I know it's tempting to immediately jump into drawing your favourite blorbos smooching (yes, this is the entire point of being an artist) but it's like exercise, you need to build muscle bit by bit before you can attempt any ambitious goals. Draw very basic shapes like circles, squares, triangles, followed by spheres, cylinders, prisms. Try to rotate/stretch/skew/slice them in your mind's eye and draw the result. Draw some simple objects around you. You'll find that all objects, including complex organic forms, can be broken down into basic shapes. Here's an example of the types of exercises you can try: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6F5q_5HC3o

There are beginner's tutorials on every aspect of drawing, I'd recommend spending a chunk of time in each area, learning fundamentals like perspective, proportions, and lighting. There are easy rules that you can follow that will make your art look 'correct' and not 'wonky' which might happen if you try to wing it without really understanding what you're doing. This video (though more advanced) has tons of useful advice and a fantastic guideline to follow: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6T_-DiAzYBc (in fact I think this is one of the best art 'tutorials' ever 🤯)

Be patient with yourself!! Your brain literally needs time to grow new neurons because you're learning a new skill. It can be frustrating to be unable to draw what you're imagining, but go easy and build up a strong foundation first. The more solid this is, the more satisfied you'll be when you finally tackle the stuff you actually want to make.

I hope this was helpful! Just practice a lot, have fun, and be proud of your progress 🧡 (also, sit with good posture, stay hydrated and take regular breaks <3)

[metfell]

Whats your favourite design quirk for each of cbench? I always love hearing how these things came to be !!

allow me to pull up some of my art for you and i will ramble- oh my god it has been literally so long since ive done colored artwork i am so sorry everyone wow the depression is visible i see. ANYWAYS.

so its funny trying to talk about designs when so much of how i draw them is just "this is ctommy but in a different outfit" so ill go into stuff that is always visible on them

i think my favorite consistency is ctubbos mismatched horns, its something that i think signifies it as My Tubbo Design. i saw a picture of a highland cow back in 2021 and i thought it fit him perfectly and ive never gone back ever since then. i started drawing tubbo as more butchy recently mainly because of boss and his source stuff to be perfectly honest, he has a lot going on in there. but its fun to take a character who is very often like... twink-ified? and make him into a stone dyke butch. well, idk if hes twink-ified these days, but back in 2021-2022 he sure was. i think giving tubbo a wider build- something these two images dont rlly do but whatever we'll work with it- is really great as a visual signifier for being guarded. hes a square hes got his massive snowchester coat on with its big furry coat and his hair covers his eyes and hes got a laurel wreath to signify coming home from war/being victorious in battle/etc. and he wasnt always a moobloom much like my little fic talked about, he used to be a human but the firework explosion fucked him up so bad the server had to stitch him back together with code from mobs. so the server grows a laurel on him and the server hardens him and tries to make him more resilient for the next fight.

i got insane abt tubbo let me move on to ranboo. i have so much fun drawing ranboo i really enjoy playing around with hair length and horn shape and leg anatomy etc. i used to be a fan of the straight split down the middle of their halves but i just love the mottled look so much i have to do that, mainly because i think it makes an artwork look a bit more polished for my own standards for myself. a lot of my ranboo design is an exercise in balance. his halves are black on the left white on the right, so his hair is flipped to make it more interesting, i give them the classic metfell hair flip because a)ranboolives hair moves like that already, and b)it lets me play around with giving them a little crown on the opposite sides horn. also i give them a bolo tie because i dont think cranboo can actually tie a regular tie if im being so forreal. and they have puffy sleeves because i think it adds to the fact that theyre not really a fighter like the others. though cranboo can hold their own and are a literal blacksmith constantly mining and smelting ores and making people armor sets, theyre not KNOWN for fighting, and so giving them an outfit that is not suited for fighting can reflect that.

when it comes to tommy i am always changing up how i draw him. im really attached to the long braid though, and im a classic butterfly clip ctommy enjoyer i think its fun and ppl who hated it were annoying as fuck. i think my favorite thing about drawing ctommy is that i give him gauges- very small ones but gauges nonetheless because cwilbur got them and he wanted to match early on. he never actually went through the process of stretching but he does have them in. and when i draw older ctommy i like to draw him like hes early on estrogen i think its really fun. same with tubbo i like to draw him like hes early on T. theyre transing together :]

[ensemblesongs]

!!! user ensemblesobgswhat are your favorite enstars stories !!?

I have to think for this one, hmm... My favourite stories have to beee...

In terms of enjoyability, and attempting not to have too much character bias, not in any order. Boldened are absolute favourites!

-Daydream & Lionheart are my all time favourite pieces of ansta writing, with an emphasis on Daydream. Lionheart has at least three translations online. I'm planning on re-reading two of those again just to compare them. I love an unreliable narrator. Sena really has been Leo's living unreliable narrator the whole time he's known him, hasn't he? Blackbird was good on a writing standpoint, but felt like a desperate attempt to get people to like and be normal about Wataru & Eichi, as well as telling us what we already know. At the same time, it did provide more insight into their mentalities, at least. Clown, Crown or whatever it was called was really nice also. - Both original main stories which I think every average ansta fan should read regardless of their length, although, the ! one is certainly of it's time. EnBasic: Element, Marionette, Crossroad, Meteor Impact, Checkmate, (Sorry for no Rocket Show! we're gonna read it for my friend's birthday!) Showtime, Dragon Fruit (Note to all viewers: don't read Marionette alone & think you know anything about Ex-valkyrie. PLEASE!), Easter Night, EP:Link, Christmas Live, Starry Night Festival, Beasts, Human Comedy (people focus too much on the valkyrie side of this and ignore rabits and it is disheartening, even if I understand why, from producers of them, given that rabits is far more unpopular in comparison, unrightfully yet understandably so. But what of the rest?), Book Fair, Victoria, Liar's Idol, Rainbow, Eccentric, Pleiades Night, Wonder Game, Biblio, Blood Banquet, Butler Cafe, Shinsengumi, Bouquet of Desire, Devils, Horror Night Halloween, School Festival ☆ Tamayori's Haunted Dollhouse, uum... those are the only ones that come to mind. I've read about 2wink and ryuseitai but scatteredly. In another universe, I produce them. EnMusic: Date Plan, Motor Show, Tempest, Night Club, Conquest, Next Door, Hot Limit, Neverland, Feather Touch, Bogie Time, Merry Xmas, Antique Legend, Burning Azaleas, Shinsekai, Obbligato, Astraea's Atelier, Romantic ? Date, Myriad of Colors and Flowers, Shards of Time: Black, Cruise, Grand Slam (I know it sounds crazy. The shotabait foot fetish event. Yes. But it has so many fucking good parts, and the epilogues are some of my favourite things ever.), Portrait, Nighthead, Stormcloud FUMBLE, Poltergeist, Parallel World, Xday (best climax), Absolute (I'm reading it with my dearest friends & I like it a lot so far! But I haven't finished so I won't embolden it. Mixed feelings about Raison d'être but generally it's so good I really love it. ALTERED CHANGED MY LIFE & KILLED MY GRANDMA. Bite-sized mix of both: -Aira: Episode 1 (Idol story), Do The Norm ft. Midori & Chiaki (I love you Midori! I love Noritama), -Tsumugi: This Senior is Prone to Worrying, Switch's introduction: "episode one", (Tsumugi FS1) Blue Hour's Spinning Song, Tsumugi's FS1 4☆ Story which recently came out on Eng, the eating one, "Delicious Happiness" ft. Midori, Episode 1, 2 & 3 of his idol stories, Go Basking in The Sun 3☆ story ft. Rei & Ritsu. -Others: HiMERU stuff. Episode 1 Chiaki Idol Story, Hiiro Idol story 2 ft. Aira, Black Swan ft. Mika & Tsumugi. (Madara FS2) Fates and Feast, Natsume FS2 4☆ Story. The 3☆ where ex-fine play together, Rinne's FS1. MANY Yuuta idol stories & 4/3☆ stories, especially in relation to his growth & Rinne. I like a lot of Anzu's monologues in the novels. I love this Natsuhokke 3☆ story. I like the early idol stories in general honestly. Baah!

Fun fact, I watched the anime before reading anything. My first story after the main story was Easter Night :-) though already interested in them, it cemented my love for switchvalk & their parallels in a square or even a more convoluted shape, each pointing at each other. I really recommend people read 3 stars of their favourites, you can find them with ease if you look them up, especially if they're from popular units. There's a lot of Really Good stories I haven't read but know all the context to and just have to get to, and good stories I have read that I just haven't mentioned whether purposefully because I don't think about them that much or because they slipped out of my mind (or blended together, or I technically didn't read them and just know everything that occurs or read a livetweet thread and I don't want to say a story is my favourite when I haven't read it in full even if stuff I really love comes from it, or I have mixed feelings that are too mixed for it to be a favourite).

I really adore Ansta's writing in spite of all of it's flaws, that's why it's not easy for me to give a simple response. Thank you for the question, sweet thing!

[wizkiddx]

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers and Side Characters Play the Sims

I don’t know what possessed me to make this but WHATEVER. I’ve been playing the Sims since I was a wee little girl, and I’ve seen my fair share of weird Sims stuff that I feel would fit these bozos perfectly.

My Sims have a Functional Family Life Because I Don’t (Lucifer)

God dammit Levi’s obsessed with another game... ugh.

Spends 5 minutes in Create-a-Sim and hops into a starter home.

Lucifer’s the type to start with all the average stuff and then build their stuff up as his sim gets promotions.

It’s just... so peaceful...

...he’s adopting a dog.

Look at his new little virtual family... his sim-kids are self sufficient and getting A’s in school, his Sim spouse MC or Diavolo take your pick loves his Sim-self, his sim-dog-

WAIT NO- THE DOG’S AN ELDER?!

AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

...

He’s fine. It was just a virtual dog. *sniffle*

He’s now spending his free time drinking Demonus and playing the Sims.

What’s a mod? Levi why does your sim have gun?

Behold, My Gorgeous Home... It’s a Box (Mammon)

Mammon, like the rest of the HOL, is mooching off of Levi’s Origin account.

“AW SHIT! This house looks awesome! I’m gonna build it for Sim-me to live in!”

Mammon proceeds to build a box with rooms. Yay...

He just picks the funnest sounding job if he picks any job at all for his Sim. That’s how he ended up making 9 dollars an hour in the criminal career.

Didn’t stop Mammon from buying that solid gold bathroom set from Get Famous... a box with solid gold bathrooms.

His Sim is broke send help-

“Leviiiiiii my sim needs money... the people my sim kidnapped and is forcing to paint aren’t making enough money...” “Ugh... press control shift C and type ‘motherlode’.”

...Levi made a mistake.

“FUCK YEAH! MOTHERLODE!”

His sim’s life is so chaotic, he has a piranha pool that his sim has almost died in twice, the sim is carrying on several torrid love affairs, his sim got struck by lightning, his sim has nearly died in a grilled cheese making accident twice... in the same day.

At least once Sim-Mammon and Sim-MC get married things calm down a little.

Mammon finds out what custom content is and proceeds to download EVERYTHING HE CAN FIND.

And now he’s asking Levi why his computer is running so slow.

Expansion Pack King (Leviathan)

He got into it back when the Sims 2 was new, he’s a veteran fan.

“Bro remember when Agnes Crumplebottom would show up and whack the shit out of your sims if they were flirting?”

“Remember when that witch would show up randomly on the lot you were on if you had Makin’ Magic?”

“Remember when Bella Goth was abducted by aliens and we just... didn’t question it?”

He whines about the Sims4 and how crappy it is but still buys every expansion pack, game pack, and stuff pack.

This boy watches like 40 hours of built tutorials and ends up sobbing over his weird roofs.

“WHY DOESN’T IT LOOK AS NICE AS THE ONE I’M LOOKING AT?! THIS ISN’T FAIR!”

The mod folder is so full istg-

Levi gets custom content for the sole purpose of making his favourite fictional characters.

This is why Henry and the Lord of Shadows are married and Ruri-chan and Sim-Levi are roommates.

Oh my god they were roommates-

Levi also added his brothers to the world and uh... Sim-Mammon died in a tragic pool accident F.

Levi then proceeded to befriend the Grim Reaper.

He’s anxiously awaiting the release of Paralives.

Wait Gameplay? In This Build Simulator? (Satan)

Satan’s here to build and leave. Gameplay who?

Our favourite bundle of rage is a master architect and the amount of followers on the Gallery he has shows it.

He takes up those build shell challenges and always ends up making them look positively perfect.

Asmo’s always using his houses, and Satan often takes requests when he gets bored.

No Mammon, he reserves the right to refuse to build a golden castle for you- YOUR SIM HAS 40 SIMOLEONS-

No mods, no CC, he’s building with what EA gave him.

...and EA gave him debug objects, and he’s not going to explain how to get them.

The one time he did actually play with a family... it was one sim and seven cats.

He tries to play without cheats... and ends up getting frustrated and turns on cheats.

All hail the Pets Expansion Pack.

Custom Content Soap Opera (Asmodeus)

Asmo spends 5 hours in Create a Sim then just... clicks out of the game.

That’s how it goes most of the time, buuuuuut when he gets super invested in a family he’s made, boy howdy is he INVESTED.

Sim A is carrying on an affair with Sim C who’s in love with Sim B who’s married to Sim A but Sim D wants to kill Sim A and C even though they’re the illegitimate child of Sim C-

When Asmo realizes that in the Sims 4 he needs to manufacture all the drama himself and he can’t just sit back with a glass of wine and watch the fireworks, he switches to the Sims 2 and 3.

“...why is this old lady beating up my Sim..?”

He immediately recoils in horror upon seeing how ugly the Sims are pre Sims4.

HE NEEDS TO FIX THIS-

Ah, there we go, perfect. Custom Content to the rescue!

He ends up remaking the entire world just so he doesn’t have to look at weird looking Sims.

Asmo is the only one to have finished a proper Legacy Challenge, but it gets crazy chaotic after gen 3.

“My sim just got abducted by aliens and now he’s pregnant- WHAT?!”

He has about 40 saves and only two he actually plays.

Just a Big Ol’ Happy Family (Beelzebub)

Beel found the game, proceeded to make everyone in create-a-sim to the best of his abilities, and made everyone get along.

That’s why Sim-Lucifer and Sim-Belphie are on a swing set together, they’re friends :D

“Hey Luke do you think you can make this?” “I-is that a cake shaped like a hamburger?” “Yes. Please make.”

He took one look at the cooking options and decided to max out his Sim’s cooking skill to unlock all the options.

Beel proceeded to drool all over his keyboard. Gross...

Boy howdy did he have some crazy dinner suggestions!

Overall, very wholesome Sim-life, except for the time Sim-Levi died because the toilet caught fire, don’t worry, Sim-Beel knows how to make ambrosia.

All is good in the Sim save...

...until Sim-Beel ate pufferfish nigiri and fuckin died-

Wait Did I Not Pause- (Belphie)

Huh, this game looks fine... I’ll play for a little- *SNORE*

Belphie makes some sims, plops them into a starter home, plays for an hour, then falls asleep.

He wakes up five hours later to absolute carnage.

Three sims have died because someone decided to make Mac and Cheese and the oven caught fire, the kids were taken away by social services, and the dog ran away.

“...heheh, holy shit everyone look.”

He doesn’t play often, but when he does, death occurs. He has found out every death method for every game from Sims 2 to 4.

And that INCLUDES the Sims Medieval! You guys remember that game?

Sometimes it’s not intentional, but Belphie got bored with the totally normal life his sims were living and decided to spice it up.

“Why are the ghosts breaking my showers..?”

Help There’s a Bug- (Diavolo)

The Crown Prince started playing when he noticed Lucifer was playing it.

He was immediately obsessed.

Dia mostly plays the Sims Medieval because he likes the feeling of achievement after completing a quest!

“Barbatos... why isn’t my Sim completing their task? The icon won’t show up.” “My lord it appears the game is bugged.” “:(“

No one thought to tell Diavolo that EA doesn’t plan on offering bug support to a game made in like... 2009

This doesn’t matter! Look at how great his kingdom is doing- oh no his hero has the plague-

He plays through the Pirates and Nobles expansion and manages to get the peaceful ending, he’s so proud of himself.

“MC! Look! My Monarch’s sword is permanently on fire and I’m fighting an evil wizard!”

When he does play the other Sims games he’s pretty basic, though, he does a great job at furnishing!

Dia gets crazy sad when his Sims die... he turns off aging.

Builder no. 2 (Barbatos)

Barbie doesn’t have time for this... but when he does, he builds.

No create a sim.

No playing the game as intended.

Just builds.

It’s relaxing, okay? A nice little suburban house he’s never going to play in, maybe a treehouse, maybe a big Hollywood Mansion...

The only time he actually plays the game outside of build mode is when someone needs his help to fix something in-game.

He does download custom content build items if he feels bored by the current selection.

Oh Crap What Am I Doing?! (Simeon)

Help him. Please.

He’s so confused.

“Luke, why is my sim upset?” “He’s hungry, Simeon.” “Oh, how do I fix that?” “...Simeon-”

There’s a toilet in the middle of the living room.

The fridge is facing the wall.

There’s no bathtub or shower.

The house is on fire- there is no god- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Okay, once he gets the hang of it he’s sitting pretty. His sims have good jobs, the kids are getting good grades, everything’s fine.

...

But Simeon won’t forget the nightmares.

What Even is This Save? (Solomon)

Solomon’s save is the definition of chaos.

One sim’s a vampire, the other is a spellcaster that really wants to fight the Callientes for some reason, there’s one normal sim that’s always sick for some reason,

It gets weird, confusing, and horrible.

Just how Solomon likes it.

His house makes no sense, like, what even is architecture?

Money cheats are needed because Solomon‘a goal of chaos and confusion is proving to be kind of expensive.

Square up Mortimer Goth, Solomon’s sims are here to steal your weird knight statue that’s worth a shit ton of simoleons for NO REASON.

He joined the scientist career for the sole purpose of getting to the alien planet and kidnapping adding an alien to the household via cheats.

The vampire ended up dying on their wedding day because Solomon forgot that he gave them the sun weakness.

Oh well, the ghost got added to the household! VAMPIRE GHOST!

The Child (Luke)

Before you say Luke’s too young to play the Sims, you should know that I was nine when I first started playing, and I turned out fiiiiiiiiiine.

He’s just happy to be playing.

Look, his sims are gardening :D

Look, two of them are getting married :D

Look, they had a baby :D

Look, his sims are building a rocket ship :D

Look, his sims’s rocket just crashed-

The concept of death hit the little angel right in the face that day.

“*sniffle*... my sims...”

Don’t worry, with tears in his eyes, Luke quit without saving and everything was fine!

Speaking of My Sims, Luke played MySims Sky Heroes and that was when Luke had his first bout of gamer rage.

MC came over to hang out with Solomon and Simeon, and in the distance they could just hear:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY TIME WASN’T FAST ENOUGH TO CONTINUE THE STORY!? I’LL SHOW YOU FAST ENOUGH TIME!”

Okay, maybe Simeon should take the game away... just for a bit... he should take heed not to be bitten by the incredibly angry chihuahua.

Bonus:

MC: Why are our Sims married?

*Insert Boy Here*: Uh... that’s weird... I have no clue why they’re doing that...

[symphonic-scream]

Soulmark AU: How did all our favourite couples find out about them being Soulmates? (ie, Luka/Kagami/Marinette/Adrien, Alix/Chloe, Julerose, Mylene/Ivan, and Kim/Max)

Wow okay you just pinned my go to ships in one go holy shit-

And for the whole Soul mark thing the way I'm taking this is everyone's got a black mark shaped like something related to their soulmate, and it get coloured in when you first touch them-

Square

Adrien and Kagami don't understand why they have to cover two of their marks, or why his father/her mother don't seem 100% pleased that they have more than one. Luka and Marinette, on the other hand, super proud of them, though Tom and Sabine sit Marinette down to explain why people would make comments about her having more than one, and Anarka would tell Luka to ignore em cause those people are sad and shit

The mark for Kagami is a little red, black, and gold fencing blade, Marinette's is a pink, red, and black spindle of thread or whatever they're called, Luka's is a teal, blue, and black guitar, and Adrien's is a little green, black, and yellow cat paw

Chlolix

They met young, when Alix first moved to Paris, but Audrey did everything in her power to keep them apart cause she "wouldn't have a gay daughter". So both of them have their full colour marks but have no memories of who the other is since they were pulled away so quickly. They have to connect the clues given to guide them towards each other

Alix's mark on Chloe is green, black, and pink, and shaped like either a skate or skateboard (depends if this au has skateboarder Alix or not) whereas Chloe's mark on Alix is a gold, blue, and black star

Julerose

Yeah there's like no drama with them? Both Anarka and Rose's parents think they're perfect for each other and so in love. Rose's mark is a little purple, black, and red mirror and Juleka's is a pink, yellow, and white rose

Mylene and Ivan (MyVan??)

Another pretty simple one, everyone thinks they're adorable even if Mylene was a little scared at first. Ivan's mark is a grey, pink, and light blue sprout, and Mylene's is a black, dark blue, and tan drumstick

Kimax

Kim doesn't realize Max is his soulmate for a while cause he just forgets to look at his mark?? And Max is just suffering alongside him. Kim's mark is a brown, green, and black game controller and Max's is a red, white, and beige lightning bolt

[sadlynojellybeans]

🌸 5, 11, 14, and 19?

5. Favourite paper to use?

It's probably the paper I got at Lidl that was meant for collage but is very good for modular origami, because it's about 120 gms, which gives pretty strong models, and has very nice colors. Sadly I haven't actually tried many papers for folding, because I mostly use printer paper (white or colored), cheap precut squares that aren't very good but is what i can easily find, and gift wrapping paper, which is the only way i can manage models that require squares with sides of 30+ cm. I wish I could try better papers I have heard about, but I am not sure where/how to get them without paying a lot for the delivery >.<

11. Glue + shissors, yes or never?

I will only use glue to "freeze" the shape of the model once I have finished to fold it (e.g. to make sure that points stay pointy, that layers that are pressed together do not relax and open up, etc). If the model cannot be completed without glue I consider it a failure. I make an exception only for modular origami because when I have spent 2+ hours folding all the pieces I want the thing to stay together, dammit, even if I have to use glue to do it. I still would rather do without.

As for scissors, once I have the shape of the starting piece of paper (be it a square, a triangle, a pentagon...) they are out. After I start folding I categorically refuse to use scissors.

14. Do you follow diagrams? Videos? Crease patterns? Or improvise?

EVERYTHING. Whatever I can get my hands on XD. I prefer diagrams, but since my mehod to choose which origami to fold is mostly to find a model by chance and fall in love with it, often I have to resort to videos or even CPs. I don't mind videos but having to stop and go back several times to understand some steps is a bit annoying. I can fold simple CPs, thanks to 2 Youtube classes that I heartily recommend to anyone that is interested in this topic (Origami Design Class by ThePlantPsychologist and Crease Pattern Class by OrigamiByBoice) and I have just managed to get the book Origami Design Secrets by Robert J. Lang, which hopefully will allow me to get more into the technical side of origami. CPs are still pretty difficult for me at the moment, but they are fun until they aren't! They are like a puzzle that you have to solve :D

I rarely improvise. I have created some simple models and I hope to design more in the future, but for now I am mostly folding other people's models. This usually doesn't leave a lot of room to improvise, except for the final shaping.

19. What do you like most about folding origami?

That's not an easy question. I think I like the challenge, the fact that you have to turn a simple piece of paper into something that looks completely different. With modular origami, I like how relaxing the process is: after the first few pieces I just memorize the sequence and I can let my hands work and basically turn off my brain, or put some music on and just listen to that.

Also the satisfaction of holding the finished piece. I definitely like how tridiminesional some models are, how you can interact with them beyond just admiring them from a distance.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Not Theirs {Steve Harrington x Plus Size Reader}

Plot: You’re getting picked on at school and Steve steps up to defend you.

Character: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Female Identifying Reader

Notes: bullying, low confidence, avoidance of eating, grabbing without consent

Part of my Plus Size Reader x Character series!

Another day, another long day of school was ahead of you. A few years ago you had loved school, you’d loved learning, you’d loved hanging out with friends but as you grew up and as others seemed to get more immature, you’d become somewhat of a target for them to pick on you. At first, it was a comment here or there about your weight. Now, you knew that you weren’t skinny and petite like other girls but you didn’t think anyone would really care? After all, it was your body, not theirs. However, teenage idiot boys and snide girls enjoyed picking on you more and more until what little confidence you had was gone.

You used to quite like the way you looked. You thought all bodies were beautiful, all shapes and sizes and you used to feel good about the way your thighs and tummy looked but recently, due to those comments, you stopped looking in the mirror; you stopped admiring yourself and instead, you started wearing clothes that took attention away from those things you’d once loved.

Once showered and dressed, you made your way to the kitchen. Your mom was making pancakes for you. She knew it was your favourite breakfast and she knew that you’d been going through a bit of a hard time recently (though she didn’t know why) so though she’d make your favourite to cheer you up. A feeling of uneasiness came over you when you sat at the kitchen island to have breakfast. You stared down at the breakfast in front of you as your stomach rumbled. Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t listen to the bullies but the names they called you... It was horrible. Your mind thought about not eating, about losing a bit of weight and maybe they’d leave you alone. You knew it wasn’t healthy, you knew that it would do more damage than good but you just wanted them to leave you alone.

All you wanted was to be good enough, to be pretty enough, to be skinny enough; to be enough. If you were enough, would they leave you alone? If you were skinny, would they stop the jeers and the taunts? Would they ever stop? Honestly, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if they would stop. They knew you were a target so they’d probably always try and shoot you down.

Taking a breath, you pushed the plate away, telling your mom that you weren’t feeling too good so you’d pass on the pancakes. She frowned, knowing something was up but couldn’t question it because you were already halfway out of the door.

You had decided to walk to school, walking was good exercise and if you did it often enough, surely you’d lose something? It was horrible thoughts and you felt like crying as you thought of them but you just wanted them to leave you alone. Your stomach gargled and grumbled, screaming out that it needed food. You rubbed it, hoping that the hunger would die down soon enough. You’d have a small lunch and a small dinner and that would be enough. But that would not be enough, you knew it. You knew that limiting yourself like that was detrimental.

School was busy when you got there, usually you were quite early but because you walked you were bang on time. Quickly, you rushed up the steps to get to your locker. Breathing fast after just running up the steps and walking a lot, you could feel your face hot and sweaty. You just hoped no one would see you.

“Look!” A voice laughed and you felt like bursting into tears then and there,  “Here’s the piggy out of breath and sweaty after running for ten seconds!”

You ducked your head, hoping that if you didn’t acknowledge them, they’d leave you alone but instead, the taunts followed you down the halls as quick as you walked. Tears burned in your eyes as you tried to get to your locker.

“Run, piggy!” A girl laughed loudly behind you, “Run!”

“She’s too tired,” a boy snickered, “that running up the front steps really took it out of her.”

Shame burned hot in your cheeks as a lump rose in your throat. If you could get to your locker, throw your things in and get to class you’d be okay. If you tried to ignore them, but ignoring them seemed useless. Their taunts and comments grew louder, their laughter boomed and echoed in the hallways. They knew you were upset and they thrived on that, they loved holding that power over you so they would do more, say more and act out more.

They got braver when you were upset and one took the chance to run up behind you and grab you from behind, spinning you around, pulling your jumper up to reveal your stomach and grabbing at your folds, “Look at all this ugly flab!”

You yelped, shoving out of his grasp and flying to the opposite side of the hall. You couldn’t help the tears now after the violation of your body. You sucked in fast breaths and almost didn’t hear the heavy footsteps and the, “What the fuck, dude?!”

Through blurry vision, you made out that Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was towering over the group of bullies, “Just a bit of fun, Steve.”

“Does that looks like (y/n)’s had fun? You’ve just grabbed her and violated her without consent. All of you are jerks.”

“C’mon, man, she was asking for it-”

Steve’s hand clenched into a fist and he swung for the boy. He hit the boy square in the jaw, the sound making you jump slightly. The group scattered,  “What the fuck?!” Steve hissed as he shook his hand.

“She wasn’t asking for it. She wasn’t asking for you to violate her. She was walking the halls and you were all terrorising her. Scram before I hit you again.” The boy was muttering under his breath about Steve as he got up, rubbing his jaw and rushed away.

You stayed, back pressed against the lockers, breathing heavy as the tears wouldn’t stop falling. Steve came towards you, whole demeanour changing as he stopped in front of you, “Are you okay?” You only managed to shake your head, “I’m gonna get you outta here, okay? Can I touch you?” You nodded, allowing him your consent to wrap an arm around you shoulders and guide you from the school. You let him help you into his car and that’s where you truly just broke down.

Steve let you. He didn’t ask anything of you, he didn’t start the car; he just let you get out all of those emotions. He grabbed his bag that was in the backseat, pulling out tissues and a bottle of water. He placed them beside you for when you were ready. You couldn’t stop crying. You felt dirty; violated. How dare they touch you like that? You felt horrible, your skin crawled and the deep self loathing you felt was awful.

It was a long time later when you managed to calm down enough to talk, “Thank you,” you whispered after taking a long drink of water to hydrate yourself, “You- You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” he said, nodding, “Course I had to. You think I’m gonna let them grab you like that and say that stuff to you without stepping in? No way. It’s not gonna happen again, I promise you.”

You looked at him, lip trembling. You and Steve had barely spoken before, you’d maybe spoken a handful of times and that was in class. You didn’t know why he’d stuck up for you, why he’d just punched a boy for you and now he was skipping school with you.

“You know, they’re lying, right?” He said quietly, “What they were saying about you - you’re not ugly, you’re not a pig... They’re the ugly ones.”

You scoffed, looking out of the window to look at the school, “(y/n), I’m being serious, you’re not-”

“Why do you care, Steve?” You snapped, “Why do you care about what they call me, about what they’ve done? We’re not friends!” You really didn’t mean it, you really didn’t mean to be so angry and upset at him. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t hurt you but he was the only one here so he was getting your anger.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t fazed by the sudden outburst but instead said, “I care because you don’t deserve that. How dare they touch you and violate you like that? How dare they have that much power of you? They bully you every day and you do nothing to anyone. You sit in class, tapping your pen on the desk when you’re thinking and end up throwing the cap off it by accident constantly because you’re too concentrated when you’re doing it and you don’t do anything to anyone-”

“How do you know that?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Come on, I’ve sat behind you for two years in Geography, I know a little about you even though we’re not friends. Besides, it’s your body, not theirs. They should never hold an opinion on your body, they should never bat an eyelid. You are beautiful.”

The statement caught you off guard, the way he stared deeply into your eyes caught you off guard too. You knew he was telling the truth, “You mean that?”

“Being beautiful isn’t purely outer appearance, it’s everything; personality, manners, whatever else. So what if you’ve got extra weight on your bones? You think that makes you unlovable? You think that makes you ugly? No way in hell,” he scoffed loudly, “the only way you’d be unlovable was if you turned into those bullies.” When he finished, he gave you a curt nod and turned to look out the window, frightened of your reactions. He’d ranted and spoken a lot about you candidly for someone who didn’t really know you but it touched you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, “for defending me, for punching that dick-” Steve laughed, “for letting me cry in your car... Thank you for asking to touch me.”

“No one should ever make you feel that way.”

You looked at each other when your stomach grumbled loudly, once again begging for food. Steve laughed again, “Have you eaten today?” You shook your head, “Wanna go get a burger?”

“I-” you faltered, hands instinctively moving to your stomach. Steve reached out but stopped when he was centimetres away. You looked at him and nodded, allowing him to do what he wanted.

He took your hands gently, “You don’t have to be self conscious about anything in front of me, (y/n),” he murmured, “I find you more attractive than anyone in that school, I think you’re beautiful. Please, don’t hide.” You would’ve cried if you had anymore tears left in you to cry. He spoke to honestly and openly, a real change of pace, “You are enough, more than enough.”

You let your hands rest at your sides and cleared your throat, “So... burgers?” Steve smiled as he started up the car and began talking about something else. You watched the sky from the window as he drove, looking at the clouds in the sky, all those different shapes and sizes and still very much beautiful. You hoped that with Steve’s help, you’d be able to see yourself through his eyes but for now, having him speaking those truths to you was good enough for now.

[chaoticneutralwriter]

GD!Jimin Extras: Golden Hour

As they say, taking a picture lasts longer.

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, fluff, romance, angst, slow-burn

word count: 2.2k

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

A snapshot of the days before The Storm

A/N: Shout out to @azulamakesmeblank​ because this was partially inspired by this ask! As promised, a fluff chapter before the literal shit storm that’s about to take place in the story (butisitreallywhenyoureadthelastlineofthispromptwhat:’)) I hope you enjoy it! it’s kinda half edited dkfhgha I love you guys as always for your support and patience for this story! 💖💖💖💖

Tags: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​ @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway​ @indiesy​ @disn3yfreak @oerangdoongi @definitelynotshady​ @youmaiiwasherebeforeu​ 

You arrive at the front door a little too breathlessly in your haste. It should be embarrassing but blaming your increased pulse on your lack of fitness has your mind and, ironically, your heart resting easier than having to think that you're actually half-nervous and half-excited to see Jimin again.

Even though you literally saw him just yesterday.

You really need to pull yourself together better; you'd rather not have a repeat of pouring tomato sauce all over the counter because your hands got too shaky from Jimin watching you cook dinner (and after you insisted on him not needing to do anything too!)

You take in a fortifying breath, appearing to be squaring up to take the final stand in saving the world instead of simply seeing your boyfriend for what's essentially a stay-in dinner date. You punch in the pass code to the lock pad with practised ease, almost not giving enough time for the beep to chime as you push the door open.

“Jimin?” You call out in greeting once you toe off your shoes and slip on your pair of house slippers. Your eyes scan over the vast living room, spotting the head of raven locks peeking out from the end of the couch. Stepping closer, a smile sneaks its way onto your lips when you realize that he's most likely resting, given his lack of response. Quietly, you step into the kitchen area to set down your bags of grocery on the counter before you make your way to peer over the back of the seat. You're instantly smitten at what you see.

The sun is beginning to make its descent below the horizon, dying the clouds in an ombre of fiery oranges, pinks and reds against the remnants of soft pale blue sky. Thanks to the generous amount of window space the penthouse has, the golden glow easily washes over the interior of the living room and bathes everything with its light; Jimin being no exception.

It cascades over his skin like honey, high-lighting the bridge of his nose, the tops of his cheeks, and the shape of his cupid's bow. It makes his long lashes stand out so delicately and the equally dark strands of hair that falls gently over his forehead. Your fingers itch to sweep them away yet at the same time, you don't dare risk disturbing this sleeping beauty.

So unconsciously, you silently settle yourself on the top of the couch, resting your elbows on the cushion with your head propped up in your hand.

He looks so completely relaxed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other draped over his stomach. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbow, forearms toned and the first few buttons undone to expose a teasing view of his collarbones while black slacks hug his thighs perfectly (as per usual). If someone were to take a picture of him right now and slap on some big fashion name on it, you're pretty sure anyone who would see it would believe it to be a legit advertisement or a cover of a magazine.

Now that the thought has crossed your mind, temptation begins to rear its head. From the beginning, it's a no brainer what you imagine one would do given the opportunity of having a guardian demon that looks like the carbon copy of your favourite idol; do whatever you can to prevent said demon from stepping out into the world and risk slandering the actual person they're parading around as, or indulge in your wildest fantasies now that you have the means.

It's....a rather unique position to be in, with a plethora of mixed feelings to say the least.

After the initial shock of it wore off (which was really just taking three business day to process it all), you've come to the conclusion that this whole thing was, more than anything, weird. Some people might be able to turn a blind eye and though you're grateful that he had decided to look like Park Jimin from BTS, no matter how good of a disguise it was, it still doesn't change the fact that it's not Jimin.

You were grateful, but it made you a little resentful towards him.

With such a stark contrast, it's as if all of the good things you associated with that face had been sullied for something colder and unfeeling. You hated that he had chosen to use someone like Park Jimin – the perfect example of a good human being – to mask his much more sinister nature. You were sure it was part of some sick joke, and it felt...wrong.

Like you've lost part of a safe space in your world to the uglier side of the universe.

So in an attempt to preserve Jimin's good name in your heart, you were adamant in keeping your guardian demon at arms' length, hence why doing something as simple as taking a picture with him was out of the question. Not only would it not be in good faith, you can't begin to imagine what would happen if it got out to the world somehow.

And you succeeded....in the most unexpected way possible.

Maybe it was the deep rooted connection you had for Jimin, but there was always, without a doubt, a part of you that was soft to him. At first it had irked you, however over time, you realized it allowed for you to see another part of him that you wouldn't have otherwise. It made you open up to the idea that....he's not as bad as he seems.

You were afraid of losing a piece to your safe space when really, you ended up gaining an entirely new one instead, one that had become just as important.

So maybe that's why, as the longer you stared at Jimin (who's not Jimin but that doesn't mean he's worth anything less), the more you wanted to preserve this memory of him to keep for yourself. It's selfish you know, but things have changed, you've changed, and this is too good of a chance to pass up.

Your phone is out, hands steady as you pull up the camera and you want to laugh at how the image on your screen does no justice in capturing just how ethereal the sight before you is (of course it doesn't, should you really be surprised?) That doesn't stop your finger from tapping the snap button, because as they say, taking a picture lasts longer. The shot is satisfactory enough, getting him at an angle that show him from the waist up. You wonder if you can get another one, this time a little wider....

Well, you'll never know if you'd ever get the shot because your guardian demon chooses to wake up at that moment, locking piercing eyes with you through the phone. You immediately freeze.

There's a pause on his end before you see him pinpoint exactly what is going and a sly smirk tugs imperceptibly at the corner of his lips. “Cherub....” He greets, the low drawl sultry and irises pools of rich melted chocolate.

You gulp, straightening up while trying to inconspicuously put away your phone, a sheepish grin stretching across your face. “Rest well....?”

Jimin pretends to hum in deep thought, shifting so that he's facing more comfortably towards you. “For a good while yes....until my demon senses started tingling, telling me I was being watched. Should I be mildly concerned that you like watching me sleep?”

You scoff, “I don't always watch you sleep.”

“And you totally weren't snapping stalker photos of me.”

Your jaw drops, affronted but you don't go on to deny the claim. “Hey, calling them stalker photos is a stretch. And I'm just saying this because this was the only time I've ever – oof!”

Without warning, his hand had shot out to grab a hold of one of your wrist hanging over the back and with a strong tug, you fall face first onto his chest, an arm encircling you to keep you in place.

“Whatever you wanna call it, doesn't change that I'm still going to charge you for them.” You hear him playfully chastise above you. When you tilt your head up, you see him quirk an eyebrow at you expectantly. You blink, then roll your eyes, pretending to be inconvenienced by his stinginess, as if you're not ready to give him everything if he so much as breathes a word of it.

“Alright, what do you want?”

Jimin doesn't say anything in response, simply staring at you with those bottomless eyes, a smoulder simmering beneath their surface that it has you drowning in their depths. He watches you, unperturbed by your squirming (actually amuses in it) before you practically hear him purr, “What do you think I want?”

Your heart easily skips a beat (or more) and you're sure he can feel it beating frantically from your chest to his. While you're internally combusting, Jimin remains the picture definition of smug, free arm still propped behind his head the same time the other is wrapped around your waist, your face heating at the way you feel his thumb stroke at the strip of warm skin peeking out thanks to your shirt riding up a bit in the tumble.

He's actually infuriating, you think. Why's he gotta be so damn good at what he does?! You don't think he's even trying. Ugh, get it together, this is nothing new so it's not even a big deal! You can be cool about it too!

Giving yourself a chaotic pep talk apparently is what helps you find the courage to scooch up until you're able to land a chaste peck on the centre of his lips. Before you can fully withdraw, you already see the unimpressed look Jimin is shooting your way.

“I know you can do better than that.”

You puff, chewing on your lower lip into a pout; the deadpan in his voice makes you grumble at being called out, your neck and the tips of your ears burning now. Seeing you so flustered though, Jimin couldn't help but be endeared, then finally decide to ease up on the teasing he's been relentlessly subjecting you to. Slowly, he lowers the arm behind his head to gently take a hold on your chin, bringing your attention back to the adoring smile softening his features.

“Pretty cherub,” He coaxes, “Won't you give a little sweet treat for me?”

It takes everything in you to suppress the small whimper that wanted to jump out from the base of your throat at hearing those words. Whether it's teasing, cocky Jimin or loving, doting Jimin, you really aren't built to handle any of them at all, seemingly defaulting to a blushing mess no matter how hard you try be unfazed. Which is why after a moment of resigning to your fate, accepting that there was no point resisting when your heart and body have already betrayed you, do you close your eyes and give in wholeheartedly.

He welcomes you, carefully lets you mould your lips to his for a proper kiss and you helplessly melt against him. You don't think you can ever get used to the feeling but it's like Jimin doesn't mind one bit, pace unhurried to savour every press like it’s your first. Your mind becomes muddled the longer it goes on, and when you feel the swipe of his tongue, you're nearly gone. But as tempting as it is, you can't get too carried away here – you still have dinner to cook!

You allow yourself a few tantalizing licks before you part with great reluctance. Through hazy eyes you meet Jimin's, the little breath you have hitching from the sight of his swollen, moistened lips and dark brown irises now glowing a muted maroon, on the verge of igniting into full blown desire.

“Can't have you spoiling dinner so early.” You say, then embarrassingly avert your gaze at how your voice comes out raspy and thick.

You miss the way the corner of Jimin's mouth twitch, but catch the mischievous glint that's no doubt from mentioning the word 'dinner'. You put on your best scolding face, smacking his chest lightly in reprimand.

“No.”

“I didn't even say anything.” His incredulous retort is drowned out by the laugh he lets out with it, the sound has you struggling to maintain your 'serious' front.

“You were thinking it.”

“Are you sure it's not you projecting your own thoughts onto me?”

You humphed, about to turn away and get off your personal body pillow but Jimin's hold remains steadfast. He sneaks a quick kiss to your forehead once you settle back down again as a means to placate you, chuckling softly, “Okay, okay, I'll behave.”

You giggle lightly, cheeks pressed into his collarbone as you give an approving hum, cuddling even closer to his person and you both lapse into a comfortable silence, breaths in sync. Outside, the final rays of the setting sun disappears below the city's horizon, taking the warmth of the day along with it.

But you find no lack in that when you're lying here in his embrace, because whereas the sun comes and goes, yours remains unwavering.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Noise

It was the ever incredible and wonderful @minky-for-short's birthday yesterday so I wrote her this fic! Thanks for being such a good friend and also for coming up with this brilliant Artist AU for Thanatos and Zagreus!

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Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you liked this!

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Thanatos wasn’t used to coming home to a quiet house.

When he was younger, he’d always walked in from school or training classes to the racket of a house full of his siblings. There would always be someone yelling, someone arguing, something crashing to the floor, a handful of brothers and sisters sprinting past. And something inside him would sink under the weight of it.

Even for the size of the house of Nyx, there were very few quiet places, driving Than up onto the roof if he actually wanted some peace after a long day. But then there would be Zagreus, on the good days, sitting beside him and telling some story to cheer him up when he could see Than was tired and getting run down. He was there waving his hands in the air, gesturing wildly as he walked across the spine of the rooftop, eyes bright and wild and full. There was all the life and joy inside him bursting out as noise the way, later in life, it would burst out in his art.

Was it any wonder Than had fallen in love with him? He was the only kind of noise that had filled him up rather than worn him down.

And then he’d moved out but you’d really be surprised how much noise Sleep Incarnate could make when it was just the two of you sharing a cramped dorm room. And when your boyfriend was over half the time, bumping his elbows on everything and playing his guitar very badly as you tried to study, making you laugh, or sketching you as you typed an essay and throwing balls of paper at you when you moved and changed the light.

And you’d smile and you’d realise this was the man you were going to marry.

Now they had their brownstone, perfectly placed between Thanatos’ office and Zag’s studio and there was more noise contained in those walls than the mansion and that little dorm room combined. At first it was music, bright, cheesy music blasting as they unpacked all of those boxes and fit their two lives together for good. It was Zag singing in the shower on a morning, it was Than clattering pots and pans as he recreated his favourite recipes of his mothers, pared down for just the two of them. It was Cerberus barking at the birds on the fire escape or whining and kicking in his sleep, sprawled out across the sofa Than had definitely asked he not be allowed on.

And then Theodora happened. When neither of them had been looking, their bright, beautiful baby girl had come into their lives with one green eye and one gold one and all of her daddy’s spark and her papa’s brains and if Than had thought his life was noisy before, he was a fool.

But his life felt fuller than it ever had.

So when Thanatos walked through the door that evening, he immediately froze, overwhelmed with the sensation that something was very wrong. Because his house was silent.

Frowning, he hung his keys on the hook and shrugged out the heavy black coat he’d been sweating in for the last few days of warm weather. He’d had meetings with potential clients all over the place today and it felt like each one had required at least a block’s worth of walking. Of course he could just have taken the heavy thing off, as Zag often suggested, but he didn’t feel quite right without it. But drowning in sweat or not, he’d sold three of his husband's paintings today and he really felt like it warranted at least a welcome home kiss from said husband, followed by his daughter hauling herself onto her wobbly little baby legs, begging him to pick her up. And any other day, he’d have that wall of noise washing over him, loud and comforting and familiar.

So where were they?

The living room was eerily silent too, Theo’s toys lying in boneless patience for the next time she came along to play with them, the radio normally permanently tuned to Zag’s favourite station voiceless. Than frowned, the sense of disquiet getting a firmer grip on him as he passed through into the kitchen. The pots from breakfast were still in the sink, the dregs of Than’s coffee he’d hurriedly downed on the way to his office now ice cold sludge in the bottom of his favourite mug. Normally he’d be coming home to Zag attempting to cook dinner, it was his job to calmly survey the knife edge of disaster it was balancing on and diplomatically extract his husband from the stove so he could turn it into something edible. It was the thought that counted. But there wasn’t so much as a pot of tea brewing, the normally warm and raucous room cold and still.

Than’s frown deepened and he looked for a note, something to explain they’d gone to the store or the park, Zag often scrawled something on the back of an invitation to the latest gallery showing or letter asking for him to submit some work and stuck it onto the fridge. Thanatos had rescued commission requests worth thousands from the front of their fridge before, still valuable even with a request for eggs and milk scribbled on the back.

But he couldn’t see anything. The fridge only held a now week old reassurance that Zag had picked Theo up from his parents’ and taken her to get ice cream. Not much comfort to Thanatos, his heartbeat now increasing significantly.

Zagreus never left him worrying like this, he knew his husband's anxiety was only ever waiting for the slightest little nudge to topple over into overdrive. Hands starting to tremble now, he groped for his phone in his pocket, unsure whether to first dial Zag, his mother or the National Guard.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to work that out because just as he was about to yank his phone free, he heard a noise from behind the back door, something muffled coming from their tiny little walled garden. Laughter. Two kinds of laughter and he knew both of them well.

Relief settling over him, Than tried not to look like he’d been panicking that much as he pushed the door back and walked into the golden late afternoon sunlight. Their little yard wasn’t much, just a square of concrete tiles, but the borders were overflowing with greenery and flowers in sheer defiance to the lack of soil, all thanks to Than’s mother in law. In was in the sparse shades of these towering grasses and flowering vines that Zag and Theo were giggling. They were both grinning the same crooked grin, both pairs of eyes alight with that same joy.

And they were both covered in paint.

“Good evening,” Than found himself smiling too, before he even really knew why, “And what are we up to exactly?”

If Than was still a little miffed at his lack of a welcome home, it was quickly made up for when both his husband and daughter gave unison cries of delight and rushed towards him.

“Than!”

“Papa!”

Than laughed, bracing himself so he wasn’t completely knocked off his feet by their hugs, wrapping his arms around them. He accepted a lingering kiss from Zag before Theo loudly interrupted it with a retching noise, tugging on the bottom of his coat and demanding his attention.

“You gross!” she declared loudly, “Daddies gross!”

“Oh are we now?” Than chuckled, scooping her up and covering her pudgy little face in kisses until she squealed, “Is this gross?”

“No but your shirt might be going that way,” Zag grimaced apologetically, noticing the paint smearing from Theo onto her papa, “Sorry.”

Than glanced down, eyebrows raising, “Ah. And why exactly is my daughter covered in paint? I know a small amount is normal but this rather looks like she’s been rolling in it.”

Zag’s face brightened, “You’re not far off! I had this incredible idea, you see…”

“One that involved an awful lot of mess?” Than’s smile quirked fondly.

“All my best ideas do,” Zag winked over his shoulder before stepping to one side so Than could see the large roll of paper spread out across the ground.

Already it was filled with multicoloured smears and a few handprints, some footprints too, a cacophony of shape and colour. There were a few in different palettes hanging and drying on the back wall in the sun.

“You see, little Teddy’s going to be my new collaborator!” Zag spread his arms grandly over their work, “She starts them off and she can use whatever she feels like, just really moves with the energy of it all, y’know? Then I come in and tie it all together! She’s a phenomenal abstract artist!”

Than looked over the paintings they’d made together. Part of why he was such a good art dealer and such a good agent for Zagreus was that he found more to love in his work than anyone and he was good at making others see it too as he sold it to them. His love for the man spilled into the art, in the shapes and colours and textures he saw the person he’d loved since he was a kid. It was like Zag’s art spoke a language Thanatos was fluent in.

And looking at this art, the art Zag and their daughter had made together, it took his breath away. It was familiar and it was new all at once, it was bright and joyful as the two of them clashed and flowed together in the paint. If he looked long enough he could start to see what was Theo simply having fun splashing around in the colourful stuff she saw her daddy getting to play with all day and what was Zag fondly stitching her marks into something cohesive, something musical and formed.

And in it Thanatos could see his family. He could see noise.

“What do you think?” Zag’s eager smile had started to dim, his eyes getting a little anxious as he searched his husband’s face, tumbling into a nervous ramble, “I will clean her up, I promise, I put her in clothes she doesn’t love love, y’know? I will get the stains out, I swear and I can wash your shirt too if you want? I’ll use the special stuff that works really good, I mean, you might have to show me how but if there’s instructions I’ll just read those...”

Than took a step closer, careful not to damage the painting, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. As it always did, the touch alone was enough to calm Zag, his nervous stumbling coming to a stop, turning into a self conscious smile.

“Zag, it’s beautiful,” Than murmured gently, moving the hand to brush his cheek affectionately. Fortunately, Theo didn’t deem this unacceptably gross, just pressing her face to Than’s neck and nuzzling contentedly, “It’s really, really beautiful.”

Zag beamed, tilting his head hopefully, “Beautiful enough that you wanna help us make another one?”

Than smiled back, already maneuvering Theo so he could shrug out of his work jacket and let it fall to the floor, Theo giggling and squirming with excitement as she helped him push his sleeves up.

“Well, I’m not a phenomenal abstract artist like you two but it does look like fun…”

The works from this new series would go across the country, thanks to Thanatos. He really was a good agent.

They didn’t sell them, Zag didn’t want them to be sold for money after the initial exhibition. Instead they were donated to art schools and children’s hospital wards and after school clubs. But the one that all three of them had done together, the one with the two sets of bigger handprints in varying shades of red and purple and the flurry of tinier ones, the smudges and smears and bright splashes of eye watering colour, that one stayed firmly where it belonged, hanging in their living room. Over time they would take it down and add to it, especially when they had two more sets of tiny handprints to add to it.

And around it, their house would never, ever be quiet.

[saphirered]

HI, Its me again! I was wondering if you could kinda do a another part of the Eldritch Knight fic. Something like some more scenarios of essek fanboying over reader? ( Watching reader save a bunch of civilians by catching/lifting up a HUGE boulder that was about to crush the civilians, out smarting a evil wizard, helping essek with a spell he couldn't get right?) Sorry if this is long! Do whatever you want with this and I hope you have an amazing day ( pls drink some water!)

Hya! I hope you like this one and sorry it took so long (Hope the word count makes up for that part 😝). I tried to incorporate as many of these aspects as I could and keep it consistent so I hope it worked and you like the outcome. Thanks and have an amazing day yourself and stay hydrated! 😘

“So what is it about this spell that’s so difficult? You’ve never had any trouble transcribing spells in the past.” You walk beside Essek as you go down the street, or float in his case. 

It’s a lovely evening in Asarius, the darkness of night a necessity to those sensitive to sunlight. The City of Beasts leaves much to be desired, especially compared to Rosohna to which it doesn’t even hold a candle but it’s a nice evening no less and you get to spend more time with your favourite Shadowhand wizard so you’re not complaining. 

“I don’t have any trouble transcribing spells. If I did, I’d seriously question your faith in me and my credibility as a praised magic user prodigy.” You smile at the last part. Whereas to anyone else those words may have pinged as arrogance and an ego beyond a healthy standard, you clearly hear a slight gulp and sense of defensiveness to his wording, a sense of doubt. 

“Essek, if anything your capabilities have spoken for themselves. As a humble student of Dunamis with a limited understanding of the beauty of the craft even I can say so. I don’t question your skills.” From the corner of your eye you can almost see him let out a breath of relieve as you continue. 

“However, I must question your sanity slightly for willingly coming to Asarius. What is it you so desperately need you couldn’t get in Rosohna and don’t get me wrong, I like spending time with you, but why am I here?” A smile creeps onto his face but quickly turns neutral at the realisation you’re in a public space with watching eyes all around. You understand. 

“I’m in the process of creating a new spell of my own device. I’ve run out of materials and bought up the last of the stock in Rosohna, which I’ve also already gone through. Now why I asked you to come along, I cannot carry everything on my own and do not trust the careless hands of guards and servants to properly handle such delicate materials with proper consideration and gentleness.” 

“Oh, so you need me to look pretty and flex so you can ogle and admire me again? You should have just asked. I’d happily let you watch another sparring session or training. The company would be much more selective and you wouldn’t need to fight to keep that expression on your face like your life depended on it.” You try to whisper in all seriousness but can’t help some giggles cracking your voice. Essek’s eyes go wide for a second and the faintest blush creeps onto his cheeks, something he cannot hide. He quickly glances to the left and right to make sure no one’s noticed. Luckily no one did. 

“Perhaps you could save such proclamations in more private company… for my sake…” The last part he speaks under his breath but you can still just barely hear the words.

You finally find the shop. Essek immediately approaches the person behind the counter as you look around. There are some magical items placed on what once may have been plush velvet pillows but the velvet is crushed in places. The glass displays show finger prints and dust and grime at the corners, not properly cleaned for a long time. The wooden floor is sticky in some places and this is one of those moments where you wish you could float like Essek. You browse while he finishes up. 

While you browse and get to one of the larger displays another customer at the display next to, still quite some space away from you suddenly moves away to an entirely different display case on the other side of the room. Weird. You glance over but don’t think anything serious of it but keep an eye out regardless. 

Essek signals for you he’s done and on the counter you see several huge stacks of paper and an the equivalent of a bucket worth of ink in several bottles. Mentally figuring out how you’re going to carry this much, not because of the weight but solely the awkward size and shape of the stacks of paper you undo your cloak and begin to stack up the paper in one large stack onto the centre of your cloak and one smaller stack, compared to the bigger one that is, that you put to the side. The shopkeeper offers you some twine rope to keep the pages secure in their stack. and you begin folding your cloak around the bigger stack so it’s fully covered. You take the corners and tie them securely in a knot around your waist while using the closure ties to cross them over your chest and around your back where they tie. A makeshift backpack but secure and safe in a way the paper won’t get damaged. You grab the remaining stack from the counter and carry it in your arms.

“You carry the ink. Let’s not risk it spilling over the paper or this will all have been for nothing.” Essek picks up the ink and you let him take the lead out of the shop holding the door open with a quick mage hand. Outside you walk side by side once more. 

You see Essek side glance you several times but you’re unsure whether it’s because he’s making sure you’re not falling behind, you’re doing alright, if the paper isn’t getting damaged or simply watch the defined flexing muscles of your arms and shoulders as you walk, unbothered by the weight of what could by far exceed a person’s weight in materials. 

You’re nearing the Aurora Hold, your way back to Rosohna when you see something from the corner of your eye; the same person you saw in the shop… they’re sticking to the shadows moving from building to building and blending into the crowd when possible to avoid detection, their eyes trained on you or more like Essek. Essek seems to have caught on to the person trailing you too. 

“We’re being followed.” Essek states under his breath so only you can hear. 

“That we are. Same person as from the shop. What’s the plan?” You say back, the both of you acting none the wiser to your stalker. 

“Get to the Hold. Aurora Watch will be more present the closer we get. They’re less likely to try anything in the open.” He floats along eyes trained on your destination. Though, he doesn’t sound too sure about it stalling whatever your follower is planning. 

You glance around briefly having lost track of them but find them picking up pace towards you. Deciding not to wait and see what’s coming next you move the heavy stack of paper over balancing it on your lower arm, between your hand and body while grabbing Essek’s arm with your now free one, you pick up pace and run pulling him along with you as you push people aside and weave through them for the quickest path to the Aurora Hold. 

“Let’s hope your right.” You tell Essek as the person follows behind you picking up pace as well. By passing and pushing through certain people you manage to make it more difficult for them to follow and hope to draw enough attention from the Aurora Watch or really anyone bothered enough to pick a fight so the stalker will lose interest or opportunity. Casting anything major right here is a big no go with the amount people in the street and you’re still too far away for anything targeted specifically towards them. Luckily for you, they’re in the same boat when it comes to targeting the two of you yet you’re hoping they’re not stupid enough to cause severe collateral damage. 

You’re approaching the square to the Aurora Hold and see more guards. You shout for one of them to stop as they pass by you and hand them the stack of paper in your one arm, the guard buckles under the weight as you untie the fastenings of your cloak and then the one around your waist setting it down besides them. The Aurora Hold is still aways away on the other side of the square and with how busy it is you’d never make it there without them catching up. 

“What are you doing?” Essek asks you as he shushes the guard. The guard recognises Essek’s station and immediately obeys his command. 

“We’re not going to make it in time. Not without them getting to us first. Confrontation it is.” You take out your sword and toss the sheath to the side. Essek nods and tells the guard to get call reinforcements to subtly clear the square as much as possible. Luckily conflicts and fights in the open in Asarius are about as common as the rain falling from the sky so no one will bother to get in the middle of this. 

You take place a few steps in front of Essek to the side and wait. Both of you keep an eye on your chaser watching them draw closer as you stay put. Once within range Essek attempts to cast hold person on them but it fails. 

You can see their eyes narrow as they continue to approach determined. They take out some components and begin casting a spell before you can do anything a bright streak fires from their finger. You manage to dodge into a dive roll avoiding most of the impact but others around you weren’t so lucky. Essek barely managed to get out of the brunt of it too. The buildings and watchtower to your side have begun to catch fire. The people who managed to get out of the explosion quickly begin dragging people out of the way to safety clearing the way between you and the person. 

“Worry about your paper. I got this.” You look at Essek over your shoulder who manages to quench the flames of your cloak protecting the precious paper. You twirl your sword twice to feel the familiar balance and pull of gravity you’ve grown accustomed to. 

Approaching the caster after you and Essek you keep a safe distance between you and them. At least, as safe as it can be when someone is clearly capable of some ranged attacks. 

“I’ve nothing against you. Get out of my way so I can finish my job and I might let you live.” You hear the faintest hint of a Zemnian accent. Volstrucker. Great. Now you’re dealing with an assassin. 

“Sorry. Not gonna happen. Go back to wherever you came from and tell your superiors to stay away and I’ll let you live. If you don’t, I’ll make sure your remains will be returned to your next of kin for a proper burial instead of being fed to the moorbounders.” They step closers to you and you step back keeping the same amount of distance between you. 

“How very kind of you. I think I’ll pass.” They sneer. You take that as your cue and run close sword swinging. They manage to deflect the first blow with a shield spell but the second one strikes true and sends them off their feet. They get up quickly and send a firebolt your way but you’re quick enough to avoid that one. You swing again and hit their side, coming around with a second hit you step in close and use your momentum to shift to the side and swipe at their legs sending them to the ground once more. 

A blade apparates in their hand, getting up they slash at you. You try to block the first blow but it still hits cutting across your shoulder. The second hit comes for the side of your leg. You have no way of deflecting this one so you take it and use the opportunity to elbow them in the face, sweeping their feet from under them. They look up to you blood beginning to stream out of their nose. 

“Why don’t you just help me? You seem friendly enough. I could use an ally right now.” They speak in a sweet voice, trying to cast some kind of charm on you and you feel it take in your brain but fight it off. You’re not so easily charmed. You stab down through their abdomen and they cry out in pain. Removing your blade the Aurora Watch rushes over to the two of you and you take a step back. People fill back into the square to see what happened and you walk back over to Essek. 

You let the Watch deal with the assassin as you inspect the paper covered by your cloak. The cloak is partially scorched but the paper survived. 

“You know, when you said sometimes people send assassins after you and they occasionally manage to make it past defences I thought you were joking.” Essek gives you a deadpanned expression. 

“I wish I was. My apologies. I should have been more careful and many thanks for valiantly protecting my life and my materials. I do not think I could have wished for a more capable and amazing protector.” You give him a wink.

The conversation is cut short by ruckus from the Aurora Watch and the assassin. The assassin is fighting back and manages to cast a spell aimed at Essek. You’re quick enough to cast the resilient sphere spell on Essek providing a shimmering protective barrier around him. A second attack from the assassin goes wide and strikes the burning watchtower. 

The watchtower begins to fall overhead. Thinking quickly to keep yourself, the guards and the people having gathered around from being crushed by a flaming building you hold your sword horizontal above your head, take out your gold dust and throw it into the air onto the sword and speak the words. You let go of the sword and duck down yelling for everyone to do the same. As a reflex you use your arms to protect yourself from the impact but the impact never came. 

You feel the scorching heat of the flames and looking up you see the burning watchtower stationary in the air balanced on your sword high above your head. Quickly rushing out from under. You see the assassin trying to get one final attempt the protective sphere around Essek gone. You grab a dagger from the belt of one of the nearby guards and toss it at the assassin. The dagger strikes true and the target drops. 

Walking up to Essek you reach down to the fallen assassin, twist the blade and pull it out dropping it to the side. 

“Told you to leave while you still could. No second chances.” You mutter as you look over Essek.

“Are you alright?” You ask Essek whose gaze is trained on you. He’s covered in soot and ash greys his usually pristine white hair but seems otherwise unharmed. He didn’t have time to react and retaliate the attempt made by the assassin. 

“I seem to once again have you to thank for saving my life. You are absolutely magnificent. Your clever use of your resources is unrivalled. As is your care and willingness to protect those around you. You truly are an angel in disguise.” He composes himself brushing the gathered ash from his cloak as the guards and people work to heal the wounded and quench the fires. You pick up the wrapped stack of paper and look at Essek.

“Let’s go inside and get your paper secure and safe away from the scorching heat. I want my sword back once they’re done or the spell ends and they have another solution.” You begin leading the way to the Aurora Hold but stop until Essek catches up to you. 

“And you can keep those compliments coming. I’ll consider them payment for saving your life twice? On this day alone? How many is that total now?” You give him a wink and blow him a kiss as you watch the all too familiar blush come back on his cheeks as his back straightens and you continue on your way side by side. 

[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: mentions of sex, fluff, angst

Words: 2263

Disclaimer: These gifs don’t belong to me!

A/N: I would say that I’m sorry for the angst but I’m not 😂 I hope you guys enjoy this part, please let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Fifteen

Y/N’s musical laughter filled Sirius’ ears as he pulled her down the corridor in the dead of night, they were using James’ invisibility cloak – with his permission of course – Sirius smiled at the sound of her laugh, it was quickly becoming his favourite sound. They had been seeing each other for a few weeks now and Sirius was so scared that it would end soon so they agreed to take risks together. The couple didn’t want to regret the time that they could have been spending together.

What alarmed Sirius was the fact that he didn’t even feel bad for his brother, even though Sirius was essentially sneaking around with Regulus’ future wife. Sirius had gotten so used to holding her in his arms as the morning light shined through the sheer linen curtains of the boy’s dormitory.

“I can’t believe Remus gave us the key to the Prefect’s bathroom!” she giggled, whispering excitedly into his ear.

“I think that he’s just tired of us having sex in the dormitories all the time,” he chuckled and turned his head to kiss Y/N’s lips. He smiled as he tasted her strawberry lip balm.

Finally, they reached the Prefect’s bathroom without getting into any incidents, well, they had narrowly avoided Peeves who was singing and cackling maniacally to himself. Sirius had to cover Y/N’s mouth to stifle her nervous laughter. Y/N gasped in awe as they stepped into the cathedral sized room and she began taking off her clothes.

Sirius sighed happily as he watched her, she was a vision, beautiful to behold and Sirius would be happy if she walked around naked 24/7. Y/N smirked as she caught his eye and removed her clothes even slower as she raised an eyebrow at him, she didn’t seem the least bit shy, “you’d better get that bath filled, lover boy.”

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head and licking his bottom lip as he carded a hand through his tangled hair, “but, why would I do that when I can spend my time gazing at you, angel?” he winked and was pleased when Y/N’s cheeks flushed and she rolled her eyes. As Sirius began to fill the huge bath with hot water he made sure to fill it with the multi coloured bubbles that he knew Y/N would simply love to see.

When the bath was half full, Sirius helped Y/N down the slippery steps, “oh what a gentleman!” Y/N cooed jokingly as she rewarded him with a kiss, and she looked him up and down appreciatively, enough to make Sirius flush.

“Only for you my darling,” he smiled and sighed happily as the hot water enveloped him and he watched his girl swim a couple of lengths before she swam up to him, splashing him lightly. He grinned as she settled herself in his lap and kissed him so gently that it was just a whisper of a kiss.

Their love making during the past few weeks had been quick and passionate, like they didn’t have enough time together. However, this time it was different, it was like they had all the time in the world to explore and caress each other’s bodies. It was loving and slow, and perfect, Sirius wished that it could always be like this.

Y/N huffed out a happy sigh as she smiled at him as her fingers trailed across his hollowed cheekbones and over his plump lips, it was like she was trying to remember every inch of his body. One of her hands was in his hair and the other one was running down his neck, soft fingers running over that circular scar on his collarbone. He had received that when his dear mother had decided to use him as an ash tray.

Y/N was gazing at him with such beautiful intensity that it almost made Sirius shy away from her, “Merlin,” she breathed, “you are so breath taking, you’re so beautiful Sirius.”

Sirius shivered and almost gasped at her words, whenever they were together he felt so loved. He hid his blushing face in her neck, kissing the skin he found there, “Y/N, I,” he swallowed, he couldn’t quite articulate what he was trying to say but he didn’t need to.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” she cooed in his ear as she held him close. In that moment, they both knew that words didn’t have to be spoken. No words could ever articulate what they felt.

The following day, Sirius was in Defence against the Dark Arts, nervously fiddling with his fingers as he stood next to James. They would be reviewing the spell needed to get rid of a Boggart and to make things worse, they’d be performing it in front of the whole class. A Boggart would take the form of whatever the victim was afraid of and the spell transformed it into something funny.

Sirius knew what form his Boggart would take – his mother – but now there was a new fear and he was terrified that the Boggart would take that shape instead. He pushed the fear right into the back of his mind and he hoped that it would stay there. Unfortunately, Sirius was the first of his classmates to perform the spell and he stepped up to face his Boggart.

Thankfully – he never thought he would be thankful - the Boggart turned into his mother and as she reached a clawed hand out towards his face, Sirius raised his wand. Before he could utter the spell, his Boggart transformed with a crack. Sirius’ mouth went dry as he fought the urge to cry.

It was a woman, in a gorgeous champagne coloured wedding dress with a snow white veil cascading from her elegantly styled hair. Even though the shape of the woman had her back to him, Sirius knew that it was supposed to be Y/N. The shape was the same height as her and it had the same hair colour. Blood rushed and pounded in his ears, and he forgot why he was there.

The Boggart began stepping backwards in jerky motions, like something from a muggle horror film. Someone – it sounded like James – cleared their throat and he remembered what he was meant to be doing.

“Riddikulus!” he shouted in a shaky voice and the shape suddenly stumbled on its wedding dress before it fell over and the next person stepped forward to tackle their Boggart.

Sirius scurried to the back of the classroom, not daring to look at Y/N. He stood in silence as he watched his friends face their Boggarts with much more grace than Sirius had. He still couldn’t believe that James was scared of mermaids. Sirius tried to ignore all the strange looks that his classmates were giving him but it was easier said than done. Especially when people looked sorry for him.

At the end of the lesson, the Professor gave Sirius a worried look – which he ignored – as she dismissed the class. He managed to quickly escape from the room with his friends before Y/N could corner him. There was deafening silence as the marauders walked down the corridor but out of the corner of his eye, Sirius could see Remus glancing at him every so often.

“So,” Remus started delicately, “that Boggart was wild, I’ve never seen one shift like that before. I’m really sorry Sirius.”

Sirius shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, “it wasn’t just a Boggart though was it?” he mumbled, he hated to be such a downer but maybe he would feel better when his feelings were all out in the open, “in a few months, she’ll actually be getting married. To my baby brother, and I don’t think that I’ll be able to go,” he was beginning to panic but James and Remus nodded understandingly.

However, Peter’s face twisted and he looked very confused, “but Regulus is your brother! Won’t you regret it if you refuse to go to his wedding?”

Sirius knew that he meant well but it was so hard to hear right now, he scowled over at his friend as they entered The Great Hall, “no. I don’t have to go, not when he’s getting married to the girl I care about, and besides, my mother will be there,” he chuckled trying to lighten the mood.

Though, his words would surely betray him and he’d probably end up going, to support Y/N. No matter how bad it would make him feel, he had promised that he’d be there for her.

—————

All the way through dinner that evening, Sirius refused to look at you, let alone talk to you – it was like you were right back to square one – even though Peter was the only person who separated the two of you. You knew exactly why Sirius refused to interact with you, he didn’t want to see the blatant sympathy in your eyes after what you – and half of your classmates – had witnessed earlier that day.

However, you weren’t going to give him sympathy, for one you knew how much he hated it and second, what he feared was going to come to pass, it wasn’t going to be just an irrational fear of his, it was real. It was going to happen, no matter how much it hurt the two of you. You didn’t want to give him the sympathy he hated, you wanted to give him the affection he craved, you wanted to talk to the beautiful young man.

You wanted to be real with him and tell him how much he meant to you. Until you could tell him all of that you knew that your heart would hurt.

Peter stood up to talk to one of his other friends so you took your chance and held Sirius’ bigger hand under the table, squeezing it gently. Still, he didn’t even grace you with a look but when you glanced at his profile you thought that you saw a flicker of a smile. You grinned to yourself as you played with your food, he was still holding your hand.

About ten minutes later, James kissed Lily goodbye and the boys stood from the table. Sirius slowly let go of your hand and walked right out of the hall without so much as a backwards glance. You sighed sadly as you watched his retreating back and Lily gave you a worried look.

“Is everything okay between you two?” she asked gently as her soft fingers fiddled with the ends of your hair.

You smiled at your best friend as you shook your head, you didn’t want to lie to her, “not really but I’m working on it,” you just hoped that he’d listen.

When you had decided that you had given your lover his space, you swallowed back your nerves as you crossed the common room where he was talking with the boys. They all laughed as they finalised the plans for their latest prank and you took a deep breath as you gathered your courage.

“Sirius, can I please talk to you?” you started and he looked up at you, his pretty grey eyes were wide, he looked like a lost little boy. You were sure that he was going to say no, “it’s important,” you added and he nodded, though a muscle fluttered in his jaw.

“Sure,” he shrugged and led you up to the boy’s dormitory. You perched on the end of his bed, trying to figure out how to start the conversation but before you could even open your mouth, he was talking, “don’t feel sorry for me Y/N, if that’s what this is then I don’t want to know.”

You bit into your bottom lip as you considered his words, “I just want to know why your Boggart changed, I didn’t even know it could do that,” you wrapped your arms around yourself and Sirius rolled his eyes though he didn’t look angry, he just looked scared. He looked so scared.

“Oh, I don’t know Y/N, maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that I’m so scared about you getting married to my brother. Merlin, Y/N!” he snapped and you winced at his words, causing him to sigh and cup your cheek, moving closer to you on the comfortable bed, “no, I’m sorry darling. None of this is your fault. I’m so terrified to lose you because I know it’s only a matter of time. Wherever you go, you’ll always have my heart, forever. But I can never have yours. I never expected to feel this strongly about you” his eyes dropped to his hands.

His words broke your heart and you gently tilted his chin so he could look up at you. There were so many emotions swimming in his eyes, guilt, vulnerability and sadness, “oh sweetheart,” you stroked his hair, “don’t you see? If I hold your heart then you’ll never lose me, I might be getting married to Regulus, but it’s you who I really want. Sirius, I-“you began but trailed off as his face grew angry and he shook his head.

“No, Y/N don’t! Don’t you dare say it,” he huffed, his eyes growing glassy, “please don’t say it. I don’t want to hear you say because I know that I can’t keep you.”

You wished that he would let you say it, you leaned forward to kiss him so passionately that he’d remember it in years to come, he’d remember it when he was grew and old, “okay, I won’t say it. But that will never change how I feel. It’s you Sirius. It will always be you.”

@approved-by-dentists @thefuturelawyer @a-miserable-hufflepunk @firelordmillie @seriouslysiriuss @sleep-i-ness @play-morezeppelin @pregnant-piggy @sleepingalaska @smiithys @blisfvll @rexorangecouny @findzelda @wangmangagavroche @the-moon-and-the-book @hxrgreeves @ghostofstudentspast @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @my-unique-mind @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass @acciovisio @obsessedwithrandomthings @kashishwrites @fific7 @blackbirddaredevil23 @siriusblackspam

[misiwrites]

Beyblade Week Day 3

for the third @beybladeweek2021​ oneshot set in the 4kingdoms-verse, i have a silly little story from the west. takes place at some random point before the beginning of the main fic.

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Fashion / Flowers / Autumn

“Underplates… napkins… saucers… and the cup handles to the right.”

Mathilda places each piece of the set with meticulous care. After the cups and cutlery are in place, she arranges the jam and cream dish on the tray, and then, of course, the centrepiece of the table, the golden cake stand for the treats.

“Handmade by Sir Olivier!”

She giddily sets the macarons and finger sandwiches on the stand. Then a freshly brewed pot of black tea from the kitchen, and everything is ready to go. Her butterfly heart flutters with nervous excitement as she carefully lifts the heavy tray and slowly makes her way out of the servants’ quarters. She has to focus on each and every step to avoid making any silly mistakes that could end up in a tea-stained catastrophe.

It’s a lovely day in early Harvestmoon. Pleasant and still, perfect for having tea outside – not something that could be said about most days in the Country of West, usually so drizzly and grey.

Whatever the weather, Mathilda never grows tired of the beauty of the Tiger Maple Palace, and although acting as a maid isn’t exactly part of the royal page’s routine and the tray is so heavy that it leaves her arms sore, it’s an honour to be asked to serve afternoon tea to her favourite guests at the palace, Lady Chen Mao and her handmaid Julia from the mansion on Kuí.

She finds them under a canopy of branches of blazing orange and yellow, hunched over some papers and magazines on the patio floor. Mao’s holy beast companion, Galux, is having a nap on its designated cushion a few feet away.

“But there are so many different types of zan zi… Oh, look, the tea has arrived!”

Mao is stunning as always. The wide sleeves of her blue-and-orange ruqun dress billow along as she jumps to her feet; she wears her rose colour hair on two long braids today, their shape resembles chains of traditional Western paper lanterns, and Mathilda has no doubt that the style is in accordance with the latest trends of high fashion in this kingdom. The handmaid, Julia, is more composed than Mao and rises to her feet with more dignity, politely nodding at Mathilda who approaches them with the tray.

“Good afternoon, Lady Mao, Miss Fernández,” Mathilda greets them, her cheeks slightly flushed. Relief washes over her as she successfully lands the tray on the garden table. No casualties this time, and the tea is still hot.

“Hi, Matty! Is it okay if I call you Matty? It was Julia’s idea.” Like a robin, Mao soars over to the table, then quickly turns to face her handmaid. “Jules, bring the papers here so we can keep planning while eating.”

When Mao is distracted instructing Julia, Mathilda hurries over to pull a chair out for her. “Um, um, feel free to call me as you wish, milady.”

“Aren’t you one considerate sweetheart, Matty! And how lovely the tea looks! Are these macarons by Olivier again? He’s such a weirdo – I’ve never heard of a knight who’s also a cook before, not to mention a damn pastry chef! Sword in one hand, a rolling pin in the other, how reassuring.”

Mathilda says nothing; hearing Mao talk about her master in such a manner always makes her ears burn, but she can’t not admire her audacious nature all the same. That boyish edge in Mao’s behaviour must have rubbed off on her from her older brother, the Duke of Kuí, whom Mathilda has always found nothing short of intimidating.

As Julia joins Mao, Mathilda can see that the papers she has brought along include several volumes of fashion-related magazines and what look like blueprints for a fashion design project of some sort. She tries not to snoop too much, not wanting to cross her boundaries as an outsider, but she hasn’t even finished pouring the two cups full when Mao is already deliberately pulling her into the conversation.

“So about the zan zi – I was thinking I’d want it to follow the flower theme, but I don’t really want there to be too much gold… you know… and a chai would be a bit meh… Matty, what  kind of hair ornaments do you like?”

“Me? Oh…” Mathilda, who always wears her hair short and simple, racks her brain for an answer of any substance. “Well, um… um... Oh, I went to the Tianguan market square earlier this week, and there was a stall with wonderful flower zan zi from the East… made of fabric… The vendor said that they were created to commemorate the Seiryuu-ou’s late mother… They looked very lovely.”

“From the East? That’s an amazing idea!” Mao darts a triumphant look at Julia across the table. “That’s really unique! You should go check them out with Matty.”

“Of course, milady.”

“But tea comes first, obviously.”

Mathilda ends up spending a long while with the other girls in the garden, leafing through the magazines and following along in curious silence as they (mainly Mao, although she clearly holds Julia’s opinions about fashion in high regard) build their design piece by piece, element by element, carefully considering each detail to complement the big picture. Mao is sketching the design on paper herself as they go, and it’s obvious to Mathilda that she’s quite used to doing this kind of thing.

“Lady Mao,” she asks after a while, “are you perhaps planning to launch your own fashion line? A whole catalogue? You are very good at design.”

“Wow, thank you! You know, that’s actually an amazing idea!” Mao claps her hands together in excitement, her golden eyes positively sparkling at Mathilda. “Let’s make a whole line! This lotus daxiushan can be the first one. Oh, oh, Jules, we need to do the hair next!”

“Glad you brought that up, milady, I actually have several styles bookmarked that I thought you might like.” Julia whips out a HoloPad, and soon the mid-air above the tea set is filled with an array of images of the most intricate braidwork that Mathilda has ever seen, so fantastical that it’s hard to believe that these are photos of real people’s hair. (Perhaps they are not.)

“Oh my cats. Jules, you are the best.”

Mathilda chuckles in content and delight, her hands nested in her lap. These two girls are so entertaining and so eccentric, she never knew the nobles could be this fun. She enjoys their company so much – perhaps a bit too much, even, for someone in her position...

But, for now, she decides to simply go with the flow and worry about it later.

 * * *  * * *

 “Mao, what is this?”

“Shhh! Stop talking, you’re ruining the image! Stay totally still. Be like... what was the word again? Esoteric! You need to look esoteric, Rei-nii.”

Rei has no idea how a person is supposed to look esoteric, especially when he’s forced to stand still while posing in whatever unnatural stances Mao keeps coming up with, currently holding what he thinks is some sort of traditional brass instrument but the name of which he has no idea about.

The only reason he even agreed to a fashion photoshoot was that it’s Mao’s birthday and he wanted to please his childhood friend – but he wasn’t aware that in doing so, he agreed to a day-long session of acting as a doll designed by Mao and her handmaid, in a studio that they have somehow managed to build inside one of the pavilions of Tiger Maple, complete with several landscape backdrops.

It’s not that the clothes Mao is making him wear are bad; in fact, this outfit of a burgundy yichang dress and a dark blue daxiushang robe with a serpent-like lotus pattern adorning the broad yet lightweight sleeves feel rather comfortable in comparison to his usual formal robes that have an unnecessary abundance of coating, thanks to whoever in the past decided that the number of layers was a status symbol and therefore imposing a life sentence of drowning in a sea of layered silk upon the Byakko-ou... but the uncomfortably tight lace braids winding around his skull to form an enormous rosette of hair in the back of his head are a bit too much, as are the flower hairpins that nest above his temples and create a drooping curtain of red and white petals to frame his face; and, after several hours have already gone by, his arms and feet are beginning to hurt from standing still while holding whatever prop items the girls are sticking in his hands, from parasols to flutes and swords and whatever this newest addition is. He’s not used to standing around this much in his monotonous everyday life.

And even worse, Rei has already seen that Mao has an entire catalogue of self-made fashion concepts waiting that she wants to take pictures of him in.

The smallest of sighs escapes Rei’s lips. This doesn’t feel appropriate for his status. Incredible but true, he wishes he was instead having tea with Olivier right now.

“Stay still!” Mao immediately condemns him, “And stop looking so bored! You need to look more dramatic. You’re the king, Rei-nii, act more like it.”

What a long, long day this would end up being.

[vegetacide]

Veggie art’ing Part II complete…  This is a continuation of THIS 

Also for something a bit new as I had several notes asking what was going on with the previous pic I wrote a little something to accompany this.  It took a rather unexpected direction on me as I had ordinally intended for this to be a reconciliation picture..   Just were my mind veered for some reason.. I blame these two idiots…

I have spent far too long plunking away at this so bare with me if its absolutely crap. 

Anyway.. if you wish to read it.. look check out below 

Working title: …haven’t come up with one yet.. meh. Sue me

Blanket warning: Hints to adult subject matter that some might find offensive or triggery..mentions of past trama…. etc etc

Rating: Teen.. I guess

Word count: 2726 words 

Characters: Virgil/Kayo

Fandom: TaG’verse A/U

Location: My made up beach house located somewhere on Tracy Island..  

Veggie notes:   Any errors are completely my own and I am sure I will catch them at some point on one of my obsessive read throughs of self doubt.  :D

Enjoy…

o0o 

Damn, how in the world had it come to this? 

Virgil watched as she padded on quiet, bare feet across the beach house deck.  Retreating again and effectively shutting him out.  Her slender shoulders so small under the too big flannel of his shirt, were hunched as she protectively wrapped her arms around herself. Closing off like she always did when things got too close and too real for her to deal with. 

His chest hurt, a dull ache behind his breast bone and he rubbed at it subconsciously.  Like his heart was too big and in its floundering it was trying to break through the meager sack of flesh that housed it.

Cursing, he rubbed at it again and resisted the urge to drive his fist in the plastered wall of the beach house.  The effort wouldn’t serve any meaningful purpose anyways other than splitting his knuckles. There was no detracting from his present circumstances and potential broken bones wouldn’t change that. 

He should have taken more care with his words instead of letting his thoughts run free as he did and he kicked himself for his short sightedness,  not that it fixed anything.  He’d been too caught up in his own little world,  completely forgetting the reality they were living and now here they were. 

On opposing ends of a vast chasm.  Him holding on with all his might to keep his family whole while Kayo fought against it. The horrible twisted image of family that a mad man had imprinted on her at too young an age warping her view on things to the detriment of them both.    An idea she had been fighting her whole life to make different and one she couldn’t escape, it seemed no matter how hard they tried to.  

The old doubts and worries were always just beneath the surface just waiting to spring forth to bugger things up. The present being a prime example.  

The morning had started out completely different and felt almost like a dream to where they were now.   Warm and lazy with a vague like quality one found just upon waking.   

Kayo had been snuggled in his arms. Her legs tangled with his among the rumpled sheets. A sweet ocean breeze blowing through the gossamer curtains and dancing pleasantly over their satiated bodies.  Wicking the dew of sweat from their skin as their pulses slowed and their minds drifted back from the bliss of carnal sensation. 

His fingers had been lazily tracing up and down her back, over the sinewy grace of her shoulders and down the curve of her spine. Paying homage and mapping every glorious inch to his artist brain. 

He’d been lost in a day dream of what could be. The gentle rise of her hip, the varied valleys of her ribs  directing the course of his thoughts.  A picture was forming of a future, one that stretched out before them like a blank canvas, waiting for them to take up the brush and fill it with colour and life. 

A story in images had started to sketch itself  in his mind’s eye.  The two of them, together.  Healing, growing and evolving with a world of opportunity before them and nothing to hold them back. 

Not being able to contain himself as he lazed with her, Virgil had voiced his thoughts. Letting loose all that he’d hoped for.   A tumble of words spewing forth that had Kayo suddenly growing still and stiff to his touch. 

“Virgil,  stop…”  Had been all she’d uttered before she’d turned from his embrace and slipped from the soft comfort of their bed.  Her hair a tumble of love tousled ebony, hiding her face. 

“It would be a nice picture to paint.”  He’d replied, mind still on other things and not on the present.   “Go anywhere, wherever we want.  Take in the sights for a change instead of just jetting by them.  Go to that little cabin by that lake I told you about… it would be a perfect spot to..”

“Enough! …” The abruptness of her raised voice had him snapping his jaw shut.  

With jerking motions, she’d grabbed up his shirt.  The match to his favourite pair of lounge pants.   The one she loved to cozy into and entice him with. A glimpse of flesh here as it rode up her thighs, a flash there as supple mounds peaked out between the row of loosed buttons. Now though it covered her in a different manner entirely.  Like a shield, she clasped it tightly 

He’d pushed up to his elbows, brows dropped low with concern as he’d finally taken note that something wasn’t quite right..  “Kay?"  

She’d cast her gaze back at him then.  The briefest of looks had been enough for him to catch the shadow of disquiet in them.  Their usual vibrancy muddied by brewing clouds of anger that had him sliding from the sheets and reaching for her. 

“Don’t.” Was all she said, shaking her head as he’d risen and moved towards her.  Her hands held aloft to hold him back as she’d strode from the room.  

“What… Tin,  what’s going on?”  

Grabbing up his pants Virgil had stumbled after her, hopping as he yanked them on amid a  litany of colourful words. 

“Shit… Wait..”  

Steps later he was confronted by a fury he hadn’t expected considering where and what they had been doing mere moments before.  

She had been pacing like a caged animal,  across the expanse of the living room and back again.  Rage flowing from her with each hurried step. 

“What…?”  Was all he managed to say before she turned on him.  Fire in her gaze,  colour high on her cheeks.  

“You know what?”  She seethed, poking a finger in his direction as she did another circuit of the room.

He’s own anger bubbled to the surface,  “Actually, I don’t. So would you enlighten me to whatever erroneous infraction it is that you think that I’ve done?”  

“Oh, don’t give me that.  You know exactly what the problem is.”

Virgil’s brows shot up as her words had struck a chord in his grey matter. “Problem? You really think…”

“What in the hell were we thinking?!”  She growled out, shoving a chair out to the way and knocking it over with a crash. “Selfish..Stupid.”

“With the lives we lead….You can’t ask this of me!”   

Her words had been like a physical blow and Virgil had taken an involuntary step back. She’d wanted her words to hurt and she’d succeeded.  She never did pull her punches and her aim was as impeccable as ever.

He’d seen the realization of what she’d said flicker through her gaze but she’d quickly buried it. Instead of saying more, she shook her head, turned  her back on him once more and walked out the open sliding doors putting more than just distance between them. 

And he’d let her go,  his shoulders slumping at the writing between the lines of what had been said. In his mind there was only one option open to them but maybe for her that wasn’t the case. The implications of those options was something he couldn’t dare to fathom…but it was a road he wouldn’t let her travel down alone.  

He had a responsibility to uphold,  as  her husband and as the man he prided himself on being.  A rescuer in dark times, when there was no one else capable of the job and sometimes those that needed rescuing were closer to home.

Squaring his shoulders he went after her.  She was begging for a fight. An obvious distraction from the core reasoning behind her lashing out at him but he wouldn’t take her up on the invitation.   He wouldn’t let her push him away to deal with whatever this was on her own. 

Passing through the doors,  his eyes scanned over the deck and his breath had caught.   

She looked so small, fragile and it had brought him up short. Slumping,  he braced himself between a support post and the beach house wall.  An uncanny exhaustion suffusing him as he saw the uphill battle of the task ahead.  A task he was determined to see through to the end, no matter the outcome. 

He hated seeing her like this and despite her best efforts to push him away, Virgil knew her too well.  Had spent most of his life knowing her.  He could read her nuances, gestures and mood even when she tried to close off from him like she was trying to do now under a mask of anger.  

“Tin,”  He said carefully, dropping his hand and pushing away from the post.  He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, letting the tension slip from his shoulders.   Approaching her with all guns blazing would only crank her defenses up higher and wouldn’t get them anywhere.

He watched her stance with a practiced eye as he stepped closer.  She was like an abused animal.  Even with all of her training, when she was emotionally compromised as she was right now the scared little girl she had been came to the fore.  The one they met when she’d first came to live with them, hiding behind her father’s leg.   

He hadn’t known her history then,  the actions of her uncle and the effect that it would have on the rest of her life.  How it would shape her into the strong, determined woman she was today.  Never letting anyone get close enough to see the frightened child she closeted away inside.  Virgil though had managed to find his way inside,  found the cracks in her apparent impenetrable armour and had broken through to  the core of the woman inside.  The one she tried desperately to hide from the world in a shell of fierce resolve and purpose.  

Under it all was a woman, who had seen too much.  Abused, battered, basically orphaned by her absentee father and desperately afraid.  To top it all off, she hated the weakness and fought tooth and nail to hide it from everyone.  With the exception of him,  she didn’t have a choice there. He’d wormed his way in and he wouldn’t stand by and let her retreat from herself or from him.  

Gently he placed his hands on her tight shoulders,  cupping their slender, wavering strength and he whispered her name again.  “Tanusha…”  

Her head bowed further,  a meager attempt to hide in the fall of her hair but he could feel the quiver in her body now,  hear the soft stuttered intake of her breath.  She was crying and trying oh so hard not to be. 

Pain and love swelled through his chest, and an undeniable protectiveness.  

Virgil pulled her back into his embrace, encircling his arms around her waist and with little resistance she melted.  

“I’m sorry,”  He whispered over the curve of her ear,  brushing his lips across the elven-like arch of it.  “I’m so sorry.”  

He put all his love he could into the words, hoping that by apologizing for something he wasn’t wholly the cause of would help alleviate her suffering in some way. 

“I wasn’t thinking and it was insensitive of me.”  He tightened his hold on her,  reassurance imbued into the gesture and slowly began to rock giving her the time to pull herself back together again. 

The slight tremor slowly dissipated,  her breathing settling into a somewhat normal rhythm and he knew that she was ready to hear. More so when she dragged in a ragged breath and exhaled a long drawn out sigh. He could almost hear her counting to ten in her head.  A method she used to reign back in some of her control and a calm he knew well creeped back in. One that camouflaged a great deal of hurt. 

He did the same,  his warm breath stirring her hair and ghosting across the smooth column of her neck which peeked out from the drooping collar of his shirt.   

“You know we’ve got this, right?”  He questioned though he wasn’t expecting an answer.  “Yes,  he’s out…”  She stilled once more in his hold but Virgil couldn’t stop now,  Kayo needed to hear this even if it was just a band-aid to the problem.   He couldn’t sit by and let her lose herself in fear so he pushed on. There was too much at stake.

“Yes,  he’s upped his game in a big way.  Dad knew he was capable,  your Dad knew….” A flinch at the mention of the absentee man but again he pressed on.  There was no backing down now.  What he had to say, needed to be said.  

“We were unprepared but we know better now and I promise you, Tanusha Kyrano Tracy;  just like I did on the day you said ‘Yes’.. That I will never,  ever let that man hurt you again.”  

He slipped a hand down,  between the soft folds of flannel,  across her silky, soft skin that concealed honed muscle and deadly skills. Brushed the edge of fine lace and stilled, cupped and shielded that which was only known to the two of them.  

With strength of purpose his chest swelled,  a determination unlike any he had ever known bulked up the threat behind his next words.  “I’ll do everything in my power to protect both of you, I swear it or the Hood will regret the day he heard the name Tracy.”

She turned, taking his hand in her own and lightly brushing her lips across his knuckles. “You’re too good for me Virgil Grissom Tracy and I don’t deserve you.”  

The brief storm of anger has fled from her eyes, leaving behind only doubt and fear.  “But I don’t think it’s as easy as that. You’re too good a man to stoop to such levels and I don’t think I could live with myself if you made that sort of sacrifice on my behalf. 

Besides,  what sort of life could we offer with him out there.   He’s already been the cause of so much pain.  You and your brother’s have suffered for years because of it..I don’t think I would have the strength if he was to get you or….” 

Virgil’s frowned.  “Tin,  I married you.  All of you and everything you brought with you. I knew full well what I was marrying into but that man,  that bastard… he can’t come between us and what we want unless you let him.”  

Her gaze dropped and with gentle fingers he lifted her chin and waited for her to meet his pleading eyes.  “Don’t let him win… not in this. Please God, not in this.”  

“We may not have a choice…” Came the whisper of her response, her forehead resting against his own as a lingering tear slipped from her lashes. 

“Tin, please….”

“Virgil, I love you.  God, how I love you but I can’t tell you what you want to hear.  Not right now. If the Hood found out…. 

Just then the island klaxon blared  and Virgil’s comms started to ping with urgency.

Kayo took a step back from him and he stared after her. Brain going a mile a minute with words he wanted to say,  emotions he wanted to express.   

“Go…” She said with resignation, her arms once more crossing over her frame.   “You’re needed..” 

“I’m needed more here.”  

His comms buzzed again followed by the voice of his star loving sibling. “Virgil, you’re needed in Ops. A.S.A.P.  Please confirm.””  

Conflicted, Virgil stood unmoving,  his fist clenched at his side.   Trapped between the woman he loved and the life they’d chosen.  

“Go,  I’ll be here when you get back..”   

His brother’s voice sounded again from his comms, pulling him in two directions at once.  The hint of stress he picks up in it though had him unfreezing and heading for the underground access to the hanger.  

Passing through the automated door and hitting his comms to reply to John, he looked back at Kayo.  His heart sinking and doubt filling him as he watched her turn away from him.  

Uncertainty prickling across his skin as he questioned the validity of her words but there was nothing he could do right now.   Lives were at stack…more so than just those that needed rescuing and his hands were tied… 

“FAB John,  on my way…”

FIN….????