#this was just me messing around in my sketchbook but I loved it too much not to show off

[ghostboy-art]

wordgirl doodle dump <3

[bokutosbabe]

Daylight

( bllk boys as dads )

a / n — please i love these men a little too much. PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME

content — aged up! characters, bllk characters x reader, fluff, children mentioned(obviously), character and reader are married, had randomized names given to me for the kids, went crazy with bachira- he's just so girl dad coded, let's act like the WC didnt FUCK kunigami up, idk what happened with the format on kunigamis sorry, isagi yoichi x reader, bachira meguru x reader , rensuke kunigami x reader

synopsis — just a few of the blue lock boys as dads :,)

✿.｡. “ and i can still see it all in my mind , ” .｡.✿

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ISAGI YOICHI

— have yall seen this mans dad? literally so supportive

— is at every single sporting event no matter what!

— has embarrassed both you and your son on many occasions

— doesn't understand this is a LITTLE LEAGUE soccer game

you didn't understand why children's soccer games had to be played in the middle of summer at the hottest time imaginable. while you were silently suffering from the heat, your husband was far too into the game going on. "Come on, Kazuki! Get in there!" Isagi's voice boomed across the field, startling some of the other parents. Your cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment as you gave him a gentle nudge. "Yoichi, they're just kids," you whispered, trying to temper his competitive spirit. "Let them have fun." every game day was like this. isagi would get so intense over kazuki, who was spectacular for his age, that he would forget where he was for a bit. there were literally other kids sitting down and picking flowers, it was never as serious as your pro soccer player husband believed. Kazuki, his eyes shining with determination, managed to dribble past an opponent and take a shot at the goal. The ball soared through the air and... missed. Isagi groaned loudly, drawing curious and amused glances from the other parents. "Come on, Kazuki! You can do better than that!" Isagi yelled, his fists clenched. You placed a hand on his arm, giving him a warning look. "Yoichi, relax. He's trying his best." with that, the game was over. kazuki's team had still won 3-2, but you could tell that your son was disappointed in himself over the last shot. Kazuki ran over to you both, his face flushed with something that looked like embarrassment and shame. "You did great, Kazuki!" you said, kneeling down to hug him. "We're so proud of you." Isagi crouched beside you, ruffling Kazuki's hair. "You were awesome out there, buddy. I just got a little carried away. Sorry if I embarrassed you." maybe isagi got a little too into the games, but he always apologized after, it had become somewhat of a ritual at this point. " it's fine! did you see my super cool dribbling? uncle bachira taught me!!" yeah, your husband's enthusiasm got the better of him sometimes, but if there was one thing you knew for certain: kazuki couldn't be prouder of his dad and isagi couldn't be prouder of kazuki.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ BACHIRA MEGURU

— girl dad, girl dad, GIRL FREAKING DAD

— constantly doing your daughters hair

— you come home from work to find the both of them with butterfly clips in their hair at least 3 days out of the week

You pushed open the front door, feeling the weight of the day’s stress clinging to your shoulders. It had been one of those days at work where everything seemed to go wrong, and all you wanted was to collapse on the couch and forget about it all. As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by a heartwarming sight that instantly began to melt away the tension that you'd felt in your shoulders. There, sprawled out on the floor, were Bachira and your daughter, Sora, both fast asleep. The room was a delightful mess of colored markers, sketchbooks, and an array of hair accessories scattered around them. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Bachira with his hair adorned in a myriad of butterfly clips and sparkly barrettes, clearly the result of a spirited father-daughter play session. Sora’s hair was similarly decorated, her small hand still clutching a purple clip. Carefully, you tiptoed closer, trying not to disturb their peaceful slumber. As you knelt beside them, you noticed the soft rise and fall of their chests, their expressions serene and content. You reached out to gently remove a clip from Bachira’s hair. making precautions so it wouldn't get tangled in, but as you did, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at you, a sleepy but mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Hey there,” he whispered, his face adorning his usual childish grin. “Rough day?” You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, but seeing you two like this makes it so much better.” Bachira sat up slowly, careful not to wake Sora. He pulled you into a gentle hug, his warmth and the familiar scent of him providing a comforting balm to your frazzled nerves. “We had a lot of fun,” he murmured into your hair. “Sora wanted to have a ‘beauty salon’ day. I think I’m her favorite customer.” Sora stirred beside you, her eyes slowly opening. She blinked sleepily at you both, then broke into a wide smile. “Mommy, you’re home! Look at Daddy’s hair! I made him so pretty!” You leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You did an amazing job, sweetheart. I love it.” Sora giggled, sitting up and wrapping her small arms around your neck. “Can we do your hair next, Mommy?” You laughed, feeling the last of the day’s stress melt away completely. “Absolutely. But first, how about we clean up a little and get some dinner?” In that moment, surrounded by the people you loved most, you knew that no matter how stressful the days could be, you would always have this beautiful, chaotic sanctuary to come home to.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

— has always wanted to be a hero

— having his son made that dream become a reality

— will be playing in his pro games and points to the family section you and your son are sitting in

— plays his heart out for you two

The stadium was buzzing with excitement as fans filled the stands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation. You held your son's hand tightly as you made your way to the family section, both of you decked out in Kunigami's team colors. Your son, Haru, was practically bouncing with excitement, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the massive stadium.

"Mom, look! There’s Dad!" Haru pointed eagerly towards the field, where Kunigami was warming up with his teammates. His hero, his dad, looked every bit the powerful and determined athlete he admired so much.

You smiled, giving Haru's hand a gentle squeeze. "Yes, there he is. Are you excited to watch him play?" Haru nodded vigorously, his face lit up with joy. "He's gonna score a goal today, I just know it!"

As the game began, you settled into your seats, Haru practically on the edge of his. The first half was intense, with both teams displaying incredible skill and determination. Kunigami was in top form, his presence on the field commanding and inspiring.

Then, in the second half, the moment you and Haru had been waiting for arrived. Kunigami received the ball, skillfully maneuvering past the defenders with a combination of strength and finesse. The crowd’s roar grew louder with each step he took towards the goal.

"Go, Dad! You can do it!" Haru shouted, his voice full of unbridled enthusiasm. Kunigami glanced towards the family section for just a moment, his eyes locking onto yours and Haru’s. You could see the fire and determination in his gaze, the unspoken promise he made to his son to always be his hero.

With a powerful kick, Kunigami sent the ball soaring past the goalkeeper and into the net. The stadium erupted in cheers, the sound nearly deafening. Kunigami's teammates rushed to him, celebrating the goal, but his eyes were fixed on you and Haru.

He pointed directly at you both, his expression a mixture of pride and love. You could almost hear the words in your mind: “This is for you. Your hero is here.”

Haru was beside himself with excitement, jumping up and down, waving his arms wildly. "Mom, did you see that? Dad scored! He did it!" You pulled Haru into a tight hug, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. "Yes, sweetheart, he did. Your dad is amazing."

As the game continued, Kunigami played with renewed vigor, his goal having given his team the boost they needed. When the final whistle blew, signaling their victory, the crowd’s cheers echoed around the stadium.

After the game, you and Haru were escorted down to the field to meet Kunigami. Haru ran ahead, throwing himself into his father’s arms.

"Dad, you were awesome! Just like a superhero!" Kunigami laughed, lifting Haru high into the air before bringing him back down for a tight hug. "Thanks, buddy. I told you I'd score a goal for you."

✿.｡. “ all of you, all of me, intertwined ” .｡.✿

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

i may write more parts for this, i really liked it!

[be4chywritez]

Afterglow | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x roommate!reader

you have a big fat crush on your roommate

request: heyyy, can u do oscar or lando or max w 28 and 36?

prompts: “accidentally” locking other out. (they’re roommates.), and "Quit smiling at me, I can't stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that."

beachy’s masterlist🐚

prompt list🐚

If you had told your thirteen-year-old self that your best friend’s really cute brother would one day be your roommate, she would have absolutely lost it.

But life works in mysterious ways. Oscar had always been a point of interest in your life—not just because you were next-door neighbors, but because you’d been close with his sisters. You were a year older than Hattie, and the two of you got along splendidly.

As university discussions became more frequent, you decided to take a leap, applying to the International University of Monaco. To your surprise, you got in. At seventeen, you packed your bags, said goodbye to the only home you’d ever known, and headed for a new life by the Mediterranean.

Leaving meant parting with your friends, your family, the Piastris—your second family—and the boy you’d secretly been in love with since you were thirteen.

Fast forward to 2023. You’re twenty-two, settled into an amazing job, and living comfortably in your lavish Monaco apartment. Your connection to home hasn’t faded—you still have regular calls with your parents and close friends.

During one of your weekly catch-ups, Hattie mentions that Oscar’s made it to Formula 1. You couldn’t be prouder. You remember her talking endlessly about his journey through F3, and you have no doubt that now, with him in F1, she won’t stop anytime soon.

After hanging up, you return to sketching prototypes for work, the details pulling you back in. So much so, you nearly miss the chime of your phone—nearly.

Glancing down, your heart skips a beat. It’s Oscar.

Hey, can I call you for a sec?

You hesitate for just a moment before typing back a quick Sure and setting your sketchbook aside.

Seconds later, your phone rings, and when you answer, the familiar sound of his voice sends a ripple of nervous energy through you. “Hey, long time no talk,” Oscar greets, his tone easygoing as always.

You clear your throat, trying to sound normal. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How’s everything going with you?”

“Busy, as usual,” he chuckles softly, and you find yourself fidgeting, your fingers lightly tapping against the sketchbook in your lap. His voice has always done this to you—made it hard to focus, made it hard to breathe, if you were being honest.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You’d known him for years, but now, with him on the line, your thoughts scatter. There’s a beat of silence before you speak again. “Hattie told me you got into Formula 1. That’s amazing, Oscar.”

“Thanks,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s been pretty surreal.”

There’s another pause, a moment where you think the small talk is winding down, and you brace yourself for the inevitable goodbye. But instead, Oscar clears his throat. “Actually… I wanted to ask you something.”

You shift in your seat, nerves buzzing under your skin. “Sure, what’s up?”

“So, I’m moving to Monaco soon,” he starts, and the mention of Monaco—your Monaco—makes your heart skip again. “I was wondering… Would it be okay if I stayed with you for a bit? Just until I find a place of my own?”

Your breath catches, and you sit up straighter. Rooming with Oscar? The idea alone sends a jolt of panic and excitement through you. You’re quiet for a moment too long, and Oscar’s voice cuts through the silence.

“If it’s too much trouble, no worries. I can figure something else out.”

“No, no!” you rush out, maybe a little too quickly. “It’s fine, I mean—yeah, you can stay with me. It’s no trouble at all.”

The words leave your mouth before you can fully process what you’re agreeing to. The thought of sharing your space with him, being around him constantly, sends your mind spinning. But you can’t bring yourself to say no. Not to Oscar.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he says, his voice light again, like the weight of the request is off his shoulders. “It’ll just be for a little while.

“Yeah, no worries,” you repeat, though inside, you’re anything but calm.

You hang up a few minutes later after more polite exchanges, but as you set your phone down, the reality of what you just agreed to hits you like a wave. Oscar Piastri, the boy you’d been in love with since you were a teenager, was going to be living with you.

And there’s no way you’re going to survive this unscathed.

That was a year ago.

Oscar hasn’t left as he promised. Not that you’re complaining—you like having his company, and you’d say he enjoys yours as well. But you weren’t going to lie: your crush on Oscar hadn’t faded. If anything, it had grown, expanding until it was something you could no longer ignore.

You’d gotten better at hiding it, of course. But there were moments—little, fleeting moments—when you’d catch yourself staring at him too long or feeling a spark when his hand brushed yours. And those moments? They were dangerous.

Living with him had brought its own routines, little traditions that had become your favorite parts of the week. Like Tuesday movie nights. It had started casually—something to fill the time—but now it was your unspoken ritual. The only complication was when Oscar was away for races, but even then, he’d FaceTime you, watching the movie along with you through the screen.

Tuesday movie nights had become a guilty pleasure, though you’d never admit it. You told yourself it was just because of the routine, but deep down, you knew it was because of him. The way he would sit close enough for your arms to touch, the way his laugh made your chest tighten. It was torture, and yet, you craved it every time.

And then there was the way he looked at you—so casual, so unbothered. He had no idea, did he? No idea how your heart raced every time he smiled at you or how the sound of his voice made you forget everything else.

You often wondered if Oscar noticed—if he could feel the tension simmering between you, or if he was just blissfully unaware. Sometimes, you thought you caught him looking at you a little too long, or that his teasing smile held something more. But you never let yourself hope too much. Not when he seemed so completely, utterly unaware of the effect he had on you.

And so, you kept pretending. Pretending that your feelings were buried, that living with Oscar was perfectly normal. But every day, it became harder to ignore the truth: you were still in love with him, and no amount of time or distance could change that.

It was another Tuesday night. Oscar got home earlier than usual, greeting you with a tired smile that made your heart do an inconvenient little flip. You felt oddly underdressed as he looked at you, even though you were in the comfort of your own apartment—cozy sweats and a tank top, nothing out of the ordinary. But something about the way his eyes lingered made your skin feel too warm.

You tried to shake it off, busying yourself by pulling out snacks from the cupboard for movie night. The crinkle of the chip bags was enough of a distraction—until Oscar walked back into the kitchen, out of his workout clothes and now wearing jeans and a simple white t-shirt.

You raised an eyebrow. Jeans? For movie night?

“So, I know it’s movie night,” he began, leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the granite. You watched the way his fingers flexed on the stone, trying not to think too much about how good he looked—like you hadn’t seen him in casual clothes a hundred times before.

“Yeah?” you prompted, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, you glanced up to find him already staring at you. His gaze was soft, but it sent a nervous flutter through your chest.

He rubbed the back of his neck, ruffling his hair. “Meredith from PR asked if I wanted to go for drinks.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you forced your face to stay neutral. You knew you shouldn’t feel this way—shouldn’t feel the sudden green wave of jealousy swirling in your stomach—but there it was.

“Oh,” you managed, shrugging like it didn’t matter. “Yeah, I get it. We don’t have to do movie night.”

Oscar’s lips curved into a small pout, and you had to look away because, God, that look was going to be the death of you. “I know you want to do movie night,” he muttered, almost as if he didn’t want to disappoint you.

You kept your eyes on the snack bags, pretending they were the most fascinating thing in the world. “It’s fine,” you said, though your voice was quieter than you intended. “You should go. It’s no big deal.”

There was a brief silence, one that stretched just a little too long for your liking. “Can we do movie night when I get back?” Oscar asked, and the hopeful tone in his voice made it impossible for you to say no.

You hesitated for just a second, your heart already betraying you. “Yeah, sure. What time will you be back?”

“Ten,” he said, and you nodded, already telling yourself that it was fine. You’d fill the time with work. That project needed attention, anyway.

Oscar smiled again, this time a little more relaxed, as grabbed his car keys and wallet. “I’ll see you later, then,” he said, heading for the door.

You forced yourself to smile back. “Yeah, see you later.”

As the door closed behind him, the apartment suddenly felt too quiet. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where he’d been, and tried to push down the uncomfortable knot of jealousy twisting in your stomach. You shouldn’t care this much. He was just your roommate. Just Oscar.

But the pang in your chest told you otherwise.

You tried to shake off the unease, focusing on your project instead. Time passed in a blur of work until you wrapped things up around 9:30. Twenty minutes to spare.

You leaned back, glancing at the clock and then at your reflection in the nearby window. Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself reaching for your makeup bag. Just a little—subtle mascara, a swipe of lip gloss. You told yourself it was because you were bored. But deep down, you knew the truth: you wanted Oscar to see you.

A glance at the clock.

9:48.

You padded into the kitchen, rummaging through the snack cupboard once again. You pulled out some of Oscar’s favorites—chips, biscuits, a pack of his beloved Tim Tams. You reached to the back of the cupboard, fingers grazing the last pack of Tim Tams, and popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

The machine hummed as the kernels popped, the comforting sound filling the silence. You found yourself glancing at the clock again.

9:59.

The popcorn was done. You set it on the counter to cool slightly, and grabbed a few blankets from the couch, arranging them neatly. Tonight was your turn to pick the movie, and you had already decided on La La Land. A few sparkling waters from your last grocery run sat ready on the table.

And then you waited.

You sat on the couch, scrolling through Instagram to pass the time. The soft glow of your phone lit up your face, but the anticipation thrummed beneath your skin, distracting you.

10:15.

Your popcorn was cold.

10:25.

Condensation from the sparkling waters was beginning to leave small rings on the coffee table, pooling at the base of the cans.

10:30.

You sighed, the weight of disappointment settling over you. The TV screen remained frozen on the movie selection screen, your remote still in hand. With a frustrated click, you powered it off and got to your feet. Slowly, you folded the throw blankets, placing them back where they belonged. The cold popcorn went straight into the trash.

Sitting back down on the couch, you stared at the wall for a long moment, a heavy feeling growing in your chest. Why were you waiting for him? Why did it hurt so much?

In a snap decision, you stood up and walked to the front door. You pulled it open, crouching down to check beneath the mat for the spare key. Your fingers closed around it, and you slipped it into your pocket.

Oscar never bothered to take his apartment keys when you were home, always joking about how you had “Oscar tingles”—how you’d somehow know exactly when he was coming home and be ready to open the door. It wasn’t tingles at all, though. You just… waited for him.

Except tonight, you weren’t going to wait anymore.

After locking Oscar out, you settle on the couch, arms crossed tightly, trying to ignore the guilt creeping in. Sure, locking him out might have been petty, but he deserved a little consequence for coming home late. Still, your phone buzzes again—his name flashing on the screen.

“You locked me out.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, debating whether to reply. After a beat, you type:

“Oops. Thought you had your keys.”

“I didn’t take them because you’re always here.”

You hesitate, knowing you can’t leave him out there forever. Letting out a sigh, you slowly rise, dragging your feet toward the door. When you open it, Oscar is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking at you with that familiar easy smile.

He doesn’t seem irritated at all. In fact, he’s grinning like this whole thing is some kind of joke.

“Took you long enough,” he says, stepping past you with a shrug. “I was starting to think you’d make me sleep in the hall.”

You force a smirk, stepping aside. “Maybe you would’ve learned something out there.”

As he walks by, you notice his shirt—rumpled, his collar slightly crooked. Then, you see it: a faint smudge of lipstick near the edge of his neck. Your stomach drops, but you swallow down the sting, forcing yourself to play it cool.

Oscar heads for the couch, oblivious as always, and stretches out comfortably. You stay near the doorway, arms crossed, your gaze flicking over him as you try to keep your voice light.

“Rough night, huh?” you ask, eyes lingering on his collar and the mark on his neck.

Oscar frowns a little, looking down at his shirt before brushing at the smudge casually. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Meredith’s friends get a little… enthusiastic when they’re drinking.” He chuckles, seemingly unaware of the effect his words have on you.

You force a smile, your voice sharper than you mean. “Clearly.” You gesture vaguely at his collar. “Looks like someone really went for it.”

He glances down again, this time actually noticing the mess of his collar, and shrugs. “Didn’t think you’d care about my wardrobe choices.”

You laugh, though it’s hollow. “Oh, I don’t. Just thought you might want to… tidy up a bit. Wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”

Oscar, still completely relaxed, glances over at you, confused but not concerned. “What wrong idea?”

You stare at him for a moment, caught between wanting to scream and laugh at his complete obliviousness. Instead, you force out a sarcastic reply.

“Nothing,” you mutter, your voice dripping with bitterness. “Just looking out for your reputation.”

Oscar, unaware of the storm inside you, smiles softly and turns his attention back to the couch. “Right. So, still up for that movie? I did say we’d watch it.”

You swallow down the surge of frustration, nodding even though your chest feels tight. “Sure. Why not?”

You head to the kitchen, not to grab the snacks you’d laid out earlier—those were already thrown out when the disappointment set in—but to busy yourself with something, anything, to avoid looking at him. Your chest feels tight, and your head is spinning.

You settle back on the couch with Oscar, and though you’ve tried to compose yourself, the weight of everything unsaid presses down hard. He’s right there—so close—but he might as well be a million miles away.

The movie starts, but you can’t focus. Your eyes flick to the screen, but your mind races. Oscar is relaxed beside you, oblivious, a faint smile on his face as he settles into the film. Meanwhile, the tension inside you is almost unbearable.

And somehow, despite everything, he remains blissfully unaware.

You’re about halfway through La La Land when you suddenly feel Oscar’s arm settle around your shoulders. His fingers brush against your skin, and for a second, it feels like everything stops. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, and your heart skips a beat.

Without thinking, you shrug it off. “I, uh… I think I want some crisps.” The words tumble out of your mouth, and before he can react, you practically leap off the couch, heading straight for the kitchen like your life depends on it.

You tell yourself you’re just hungry, but your racing heart and flushed cheeks betray the truth. Your hands tremble as you fumble with the cupboard door, staring blankly at the shelves.

Suddenly, you sense him behind you. He’s so close you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

“You okay?” Oscar’s voice is calm, but there’s a hint of concern in it.

You nod, even though your heart is hammering in your chest. “Y-Yeah, totally fine. Just, you know… snack cravings.” You don’t dare turn around, because you know if you look at him, you’ll probably combust.

Oscar steps even closer, his breath now ghosting over your shoulder. “You sure?” he asks, his tone soft, as if he can sense something’s off.

And that’s when it happens. You can’t hold it in anymore. The dam breaks, and the words spill out, fast and frantic.

“No! No, I’m not okay! Because I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen, okay? And it’s driving me absolutely insane because you are so damn clueless and oblivious, and I thought maybe after you moved in, my feelings would just—poof—disappear, but they didn’t! They got worse! And then you come home late with lipstick on your neck, and your stupid rumpled shirt, and I try to pretend like I don’t care, but I do, Oscar! I really do! And you just keep acting like we’re—like we’re buddies, and I can’t—”

You stop, panting slightly from the rapid-fire confession, and that’s when you notice it.

Oscar is smiling.

Not just smiling—grinning. A huge, cheeky grin spreads across his face, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Your face flushes even hotter, and you glare at him. “Quit smiling at me! I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

Oscar’s grin softens, but he doesn’t stop smiling. Instead, he takes a step closer, closing the gap between you. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” he murmurs.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words die on your tongue as he suddenly pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours. It’s not the gentle, tentative kiss you might have imagined. No, this is full-on, heart-stopping, world-tilting, toe-curling. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, and for a moment, you completely melt into it, into him.

But then, reality crashes back down. You shove him back, eyes wide as you remember the smudges of lipstick, the crumpled collar, the late night out.

“What about—what about the girls from the bar?” you stammer, stepping back, heart still racing from the kiss.

Oscar blinks, and then understanding dawns. “The lipstick?” He reaches up, brushing a finger over the spot you’d noticed earlier, and then laughs softly. “It was Meredith’s friend. She tripped, spilled her drink, and kind of… crashed into me. PR disaster, but nothing else.” He shrugs, completely calm as always. “I didn’t mention it earlier because, well, I didn’t think it mattered. Guess I should’ve explained, huh?”

You stare at him, still processing what he’s just said. The knot in your stomach starts to loosen, but your heart is still racing for entirely different reasons now.

Oscar steps closer again, his smile softer but unwavering. “You’re the one I want to be with. Not some random girl from a bar. Just you.” His voice is quiet, but there’s no hesitation in it. He looks at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You feel your breath catch, the weight of everything you’ve been holding in for so long starting to lift. But instead of saying anything, you just stand there, staring at him, your mind a mess of emotions. His hand gently finds yours, and even that small touch sends another spark of warmth through you.

For once, Oscar isn’t oblivious. He can see the worry in your eyes, hope and doubt swirling in your mind. “Hey,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand gently, pulling you out of your head. “It’s always been you. I thought you knew that.”

You blink at him, still trying to believe it’s real. But the way he’s looking at you, so calm and sure… it’s hard not to believe him.

And maybe, just maybe, this isn’t as complicated as you’d made it out to be.

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: Thanks so much for the love for the first six parts of this series! i wish i could kiss you all 💜 xoxo <<prev >>next

Morning came and you were alone. Goosebumps came easily with the morning, the air chilling your skin. You put on comfy clothes and step out.

Emily offers you something to eat but you’re only thirsty. You didn’t want to accept anything just to half heartedly eat it.

You return into the room and you try to draw. You couldn’t think of what to draw. You stare up at the ceiling, racking your brain for ideas. You let the pen fall out of your fingers due to defeat. You look straight ahead and decide to see what other things Paul likes to do.

Only one graphic novel and you flipped through it. It wasn’t something you would get into. You put it back. A couple of gaming cds and you look around for a gaming console. You feel a bag and it’s in there but there’s no tv. You put the cds back, meaning to just not mess with anything else. As you were, a medium sized book with white pages fall. You pick it up to place it back to where it belongs but you catch a peek at the visuals that are on the paper.

You start from the beginning. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There were sketches. You flip through them in amazement. The style was unique in its own way. You were pissed at first for him not telling you but it was hard to stay upset when you were looking at such beautiful visuals. It was such an innocent hobby.

You almost jump as you get deeper into the book. A portrait that looks oddly a lot like you. It was a peaceful version of you. You tried to draw your own portrait of yourself before but you never liked how they looked or came out. This was different. Then, more pages were flipped and the pictures were erotic. You tried to flip past but more and more kept coming. Your heartbeat racing past, now watching two figures explore each other’s bodies. Very realistic. It felt intruding to look at.

You hear sounds from outside of the door and you slam the sketchbook closed. Just as the door opened, you were sat on the bed with just your own sketchbook.

“Everything alright?” Emily asks you. You just nod.

”Let me know if you need anything.” she says and shuts the door softly and you smile back before turning serious. You close your own book before taking out the library book that you had read all the way through.

You make your way out the door when a tired Paul walks through the door with Sam. He ups his mood when he sees you. He gets to you before Sam gets to Emily.

You pull back, smiling and out of breath. You hold him at bay, with you preventing his hands from fondling you too much.

“Where are you going?” he says and pulls you with him.

“Taking this back.” you tell him and he shakes his head.

“Just do it later.” He says and you’re pulled into his room.

The door is shut and you’re trapped between it and the front of Paul. This kiss makes your knees wobbly and he transfers to your neck and his hands opens you up. On your sides, his hands take waist and makes you grind on his hard-on. When space is available, you move to the side.

“I’ll be quick.” You tell him, raising the book. He walks towards you with a content and relaxed grin and pulls it out of your hands. He sets it elsewhere.

“So will I.” he tells you and takes the directions of his hands up under your shirt. You sigh into his mouth as your body automatically move forward on him. Openly kissing your collarbone, his hands move down and feels all on your semi soaked underwear. You pull back. You wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“We shouldn’t. We’ll get caught. I can’t even keep my voice down.” you say and try to look elsewhere.

He stares at you for a moment and nods with acceptance. That meant he really couldn’t do what he wanted to do with you.

“You should sleep. I want to talk to you without you dozing off.” you tell him and rub his shoulder.

He gives you a look and you chuckle. He lays down and right before you turn, “Lay with me until I fall asleep.” He doesn’t even let you object before you’re held on tight to him. You reach and softly sooth his scalp with your fingers running through his hair. He slowly droops his eyelids and tries his best to jerk awake to be able to look at you. But, sleep ended up winning.

You move to slide out of bed but his grip is dead solid. Even the harsher attempts weren’t working. Lightly snoring, he wasn’t waking up any time soon.

Your face was smushed into the pillow and you blink your eyes open and the room was much darker. You hear a knock. With no answer, it creaks open and Emily tells you that it’s time for dinner. You look over and one arm is around you still and another arm is covering the top part of his face. You shake him. He looks at you with tired droopy eyes even though he slept.

He takes his time to sit at the table but he makes sure he holds some of your fingers. You put food on his plate for him while Sam and Emily trail off into their own small talk. Jared walks in looking stressed out. He has a seat and eats silently.

“You know you could’ve came back with us.” Sam says to him.

“Yeah. I went to Kim’s.” he says. You put down your fork.

“How did it go?” Sam asks.

Jared shrugs, “It’s not going anywhere.” he says and just leaves it at that.

“What’s wrong with Kim?” you speak up, genuinely wanting to know.

“Nothing’s wrong with her…I just find it strange that the wolf in me likes her but the man in me doesn’t. Without the imprint, she never had or would catch my eye.” he answers honestly.

You didn’t know what to say to that.

You wash the dishes, shooing Emily away since she cooked for everybody. Sam pulls Jared to the side and Paul decides to use this time to squeeze in more sleep.

In the morning, you woke up to Paul being gone again and you decide to go home and grab your laptop. You looked around at your room and noticed you’ve went from spending almost all of your time in it to always being away from it.

You go on your laptop to log into your email. After scrolling, a subject with important characters are displayed. An illustration feature opportunity in a magazine. You accept it all of the way.

Walking back, clutching to your laptop, you decide to stop past Kim’s. Her mother wasn’t home so it was Kim who opened the door. She was dressed in out clothes and you took a seat at your favorite spot, her window sill seat.

“Jared came by yesterday.” she says to you as she flat irons her hair.

“I heard.” you say solemnly. She just shakes her head as the hot device glides down a piece of hair.

“He talked about something about only feeling something for me on behalf of his wolf.” She mutters and scoffs.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to him? I can set him straight. I know how much you like him.”

Kim looks at you as if you burned her.

“No, Y/N. If he doesn’t want me on his own then it’s useless. It would feel forced.” she says and looks in her mirror that she’s sitting in front of.

“I understand. So, what are you going to do?” you ask.

“I’m going out. My cousin from Neah Bay is throwing a graduation party. I’m leaving a bit earlier because of the drive there.”

You nod. You hope it kept her mind off of the realities of what was happening here.

“You should come. When was the last time we hung out?” she says as she finished her hair.

“Erm..I don’t know…” you say and start thinking, that’s miles away from Paul and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

“Come on..You’re always with..them. I’m even leaving soon. Please?” she says and you ponder some more.

“I’m on for another project..this time in a magazine.” you say, but she just shakes her head.

“Not going for it. You’ll have it done in five seconds. Come on..Please? You’ll have a ride there and back. Plus, I’ll even let you play in my closet.” She offers. You sigh dramatically before smiling, “Fine.” She jumps up and squeals and pull you up.

“Let me just call first okay?” you say and she turns away to open her closet.

You step out of the room and sit on the steps.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answers.

“Hey are you back?” you ask and he clears his throat a bit.

“Yeah. Where did you go?”

“Kim’s. Look, I might come back late tonight. So-“

“Why?” he interrupts.

“Well, I’m going with Kim to her cousin’s graduation party.” you say and you’re met with silence. You pull back your phone to see if the connection was lost. The call is still ongoing.

“Hello?” you then say.

“Where?” he asks and you tell him and that’s when things shifted.

“You’re crazy.” he says.

“What?” you say getting a bit agitated.

“You don’t even know what goes on there. Trust me. It’s not going to be some innocent get together. They’re wild down there.”

“I know myself. I’ll be okay.” You try to tell him but he wasn’t having it. He sounds more awake.

“But you don’t know them. You would be a target just because they would know you’re not from there or hang there. If I wasn’t so beat I would be going with you. Y/N, seriously.” he says through the phone.

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Y/N, I swear to god-“

“Paul, I’ll call you I swear.” you hang up because Kim comes out of her bedroom and shows you what you could wear.

You blindly take it and feel a buzz on your phone.

“If you go , we’re done. I mean it.”

Your mood changed. You kept staring at it. You imagined going against the grain. A pang in your chest shoot sharply of the thought of letting Paul go.

“Shit. I have to start working for this deadline in a couple of days. I’m really sorry Kim. We’re going to hang before you leave. I promise.” you say and her face falls.

“Hope all goes well.” she says dryly, accepts her outfit back, and turns back in her bedroom.

You walk with more attitude as you walk back to Sam and Emily’s. You fly the door open, with a little bit more force than meant. Paul was nonchalantly at the table with his phone right there.

“Really? We’re done?” you then nod. “Fine.” you say and walk to his room.

“You’re absolutely crazy if you think I would let you hit that side of town.” he says and leans against the door frame.

You just shake your head and face the window not wanting to look at his face.

“No trust. What’s the point?” you mutter defiantly and shrug.

You feel a hand on you and you shrug it off. You wanted him to know how you felt so badly. He knew what you felt. He knew too much from his past experiences from just hanging around the people alone. They liked to take partying far most of the time. You having a boyfriend wouldn’t have stopped their pressure.

“I know what I’m doing, Y/N.” he just says.

“What? Be my father?”

“Would you stop being so childish? Obviously I’m trying to prevent bad news. That’s definitely not your crowd.” he says and chuckles with no humor.

”Afraid I’m going to run into many of your tramps?” you say harshly and face him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he says and you look away.

“You should ask that question to yourself. You don’t control me.” you say and walk to the front door, outside in the fresh air.

He halts your walk, “If I let you go and something does happen, then what? I’m the first person you’re going to call. I’m good enough to fix it but not good enough to prevent it?”

“Don’t worry, you won’t hear from me when I touch Seattle in a few days.” you retort back.

“You probably weren’t even going to tell me huh? So ready to fuck me over.” he says venomously.

“I would’ve had to listen to you whine about what I can’t do…Maybe..I think we need some space.” you say. You didn’t mean it but the emotion took over.

Jared comes out, and stands beside Paul with a look of concern.

“I told you. I fucking told you.” he says and shakes his head. You choose not to say anything. His gaze alone pierced through your heart. Jared tries to persuade him back in the house. You held your chest as it pounded with pain. Fighting with each other caused pain.

You two didn’t speak. You were around each other but you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. He didn’t speak because he would get angry all over again. You mostly stayed up under Emily. You helped her bake desserts before she went off with Sam.

“Trouble in paradise?” Jared asks as he bites into the sandwich he made for himself with a sweet treat to eat after. You sit down.

“Yeah. It’s my fault.” you say and look out of the window with your chin resting on your hands.

“Heard you went out with Kim. Did something happen?”

“Sort of. He warned me about the kids in Neah Bay. I was only going with Kim to her cousin’s party but…He was being controlling.”

“Not saying this because he’s my friend, but he did save your ass.”

“Kim really wanted me to go with her. She’s still messed up about the whole imprinting thing.”

Jared huffs a bit and looks off into space for a bit.

“What’s really holding you back? I mean, you can talk to me.” You offer. He seemed conflicted.

“I was honest when I said it’s only the wolf part of me who feels compelled to be around her and all. I’m not trying to be mean but…she’s plain..basic. And before you say I didn’t at least give it a try, making a simple conversation is like pulling teeth. She can’t even take a joke if her life depended on it.” he vents out and ends that with a bite.

You lean back and continue to look out of the window. He wasn’t finished.

“You two, you and Paul. You already fight like a married couple. You both liked each other before the imprint. It’s more believable for it to be “meant to be.” If I have to spend the rest of my life with someone, I want it to be fun and happy.”

Paul went with Jared to his house. You called Kim to see if she was okay but there was no answer. You were so bored. There was still youth to the nighttime. Emily and Sam were off into their bonding time.

You stayed up very late, almost morning when Paul comes through. You weren’t in bed, you were sitting on the floor with a book you brought. He still didn’t speak or look your way. He got into bed and turned over and went to sleep.

The next morning, you decided to give him some space. As he slept, you quietly took your bag and belongings and made your way home. You were listening to music when you got a call.

The person who orchestrated the illustration project for you, wanted to know if you could come to Seattle for a small interview two days from now. You accept. It’s only a drive away. Hanging up, a text from Paul appears.

“You left?”

”Yes I’m back home.”

You watched, but no text came back.

The next day, you call. No answer. You just decide to call over and over. He answers on the fifth try.

“Hey.” you speak out. He sighs a bit and mutters back a hey.

You went to him tell all of the details of your new project in Seattle. “Do you want to tag along?”

“I’m good. I’ll stay back.”

“Why not? We can wander around.”

“That moment is for you.” he just says.

“I want my moment to be with you.”

You’re met with silence again. Nobody was home, everyone had plans.

“Do you want to come over?” you suggest.

“I’ll see.” You two hang up with each other.

You dozed off, after waiting for some time. You woke up to the creak of your window being open and look over to see Paul swing himself in like he’s been doing it time and time again.

You get up and hug him. It takes him a minute to finally wrap his arms around you and when he does, it’s a very tight bear hug.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me. I messed up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you say into his lower chest. He rubs you on the back and sits you down.

“I’m not mad at you.” he says quietly. You nudge him. “Yes you are.”

“No. I’m mad at the situation but not at you.” he says and you know that he’s telling the truth. He sighs and goes on, “I don’t think you understand how much it hurts me whenever I can’t protect you. Even when it’s 100% preventable.”

You nod and look the other way.

“Come back with me.” he says and gives you the eyes to prevent you from saying no.

“I don’t know… I kinda miss my own bed.” You say to tease him.

“Please. You don’t miss it that bad.” Paul comes back with and emits a laugh from you. He takes a hold of the nape of your neck and pull you to him. Instantly you’re melted into him. He glided his hand on your bare back underneath your shirt. After a moment you pull back.

“You’re coming with me to Seattle right?” you say breathlessly.

He lifts his eyelids just a little, “Mmm maybe.” He leans back in. You pull back with a smack.

“Please?” you say and he covers you mouth with his again. This time, he gets your tongue to follow his lead. His hand move to the side of your face and you hold his forearm, trying your best to keep up with him. Ending with a soft pop, he looks at you, “You sure you don’t need space?”

Your hand is now on the nape of his neck, “I will never say that again.”

“Show me you’re sorry then.” he purrs to you and you lean forward to capture him. You take his hand and lead it straight to the point. While kissing him, you pressed his hand to your mound and move sensually, to let him feel you. He raised his hand, never leaving your skin, and discard whatever was covering the bottom part of you.

You lay back as he melts in between you savoring the taste of your lips, the feeling of his poked out flesh was making friction with your underwear covered part. His hands slide up your sides and you followed the blueprint of discarding the shirt. With unspilled drool, Paul is latched onto your spilled breasts. Taking his time with circling them each with his tongue. Your stomach sucks in, gasping occasionally, forgetting how to breathe. He moves down and puts his nose down and inhaled before going on to lick his lips. Your legs are raised with your underwear being slide down.

“Are you flexible?” he asks sensually.

“I think..so.” you answer back quietly. You soon know why he asked when he pushed your legs back making your knees separated with them pressed side by side your head. You were on full display as he looked down. A high note raised from your throat when he leaned down and lapped at you. Your head moves side to side as you could only grip onto his hair and the blankets on your bed. You couldn’t help when your body moved towards his mouth. He was precise. You grab onto his hands as he felt you up, your head was titled back and you whined about.

He pulls back as soon as you feel yourself getting closer to the white light, he shoved his shorts down and a spring of skin bobs out. His eyes never leaving yours, he touched himself softly, admiring you flushed and spread out.

He moves and flip you over him and you can finally kiss him. It was hot. It was sloppy but you both didn’t care. He nudged you to sit up, straddling him upright. You looked down as he lined you up with him. He made sure to gather the sap between you, and you took him in little by little. Thankful for no one being home, you were able to get out your whines and moans of moving back and forth on him. Pure euphoria is what you both felt. Both wanting the feeling to last forever. Your hands laid flat on his chest. His hands cupping and gripping the bottom of you, you look down as you go up and down to see him biting his lip a little as he rakes his eyes on you.

The sopping noises mixed with the small squeaks of your bed is partly responsible for producing more natural sap between your legs. Halfway off of the bed, he looked down as he pounded a steady rhythm with him holding your feet to his chest. Your body arched and you felt the tingles running throughout your entire body. He decides to slow it down, making you lose your mind, wanting him to go faster. He retracted out slow and the thrust in made you shudder without fail.

“Paul” you whine out to him. You didn’t recognize your voice. His thumb traced your pearl to match his strokes. “I’m here baby.” he says erotically. He lets your legs hang on his shoulders, lift you up a bit from the bed as you hang onto him, he pumps fluidly in and out. You now understood the feeling of someone fucking your brains out. Gasping, shuddering and shaking on him, he pulls out and rides out his orgasm. You crawl back, your body still not done trembling. You lay to your side and you moan, letting the climax pass through. Naked and all, Paul pulls you to him, carries you to the shower and he washes you. Possessively feeling all of you. Your back is facing and pressed against him, you’re crumbling all over again. Open kisses are placed on the neck as he circles his finger on your second heart, you hang onto him.

Your legs feel like jelly as you walk down the stairs. Your newly packed bag is in Paul’s hands and he lets you in the car. You felt like a lovesick puppy.

As you sit on the bed, waiting for him to join you to sleep, he flashes a mischievous glance.

“What?” you say.

“I want to sleep skin to skin.”

Flushed skin makes another debut on you as you stutter. He just laughs and kisses you on the side of your mouth, “One day.”

You made sure to bring your best examples of your work. In the waiting area, it was stressing you out. Paul leaned back in the chair, seeming to be totally relaxed. You kept flipping the pages over and over. He has a hand on your knee now and you notice that he paused the bouncing of your leg.

“Just be yourself.” He says to you.

Sitting across from two people, flipping through proof of your work, your stomach is clenched. In fact, you feel so tense all over. You watched their poker faces anxiously as they observe each page.

You already talked. They already asked the questions. You were waiting for their decisions.

A white contract is placed in front of you. They give you a week to make your mind up.

You walk out with the white paper in your hands and your shoulders are dropped due to relaxation. Paul didn’t wait for you to say the words. Your feet are off the ground. Your arms are around his neck and he nuzzled your neck while holding you in a slow swaying hug.

“Thank you..Thank you for everything.” you tell him seriously.

“That was all you, woman.”

You couldn’t have done it without him. His support. His push. You didn’t feel complete without him.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the Asshole for ruining a person's life?

©️©️©️©️©️©️ to find later.

This is an old story from when I was in high school. I was a quiet nerdy kid, but I was well liked. No one messed with me and I was on good terms with most of the popular kids. I just tended to like to read and learn. I did academic decathlon, I spent my breaks in the library, I was in the top of the class etc.

My junior year of high school, there were these two sisters that moved into the school. They weren’t twins, but they were in the same grade. The Older (We'll call her Lina) was held back one year. We'll call the younger one Wendy. Lina and Wendy were both painfully awkward little nerds, so we tended to be in the same circles. We were in the same classes and they also joined the Academic Decathlon. I spent a lotttttt of time around them.

Lina was a cunt.

Seriously an absolute cunt. She went out of her way to absolutely DESTROY any confidence Wendy had. Wendy was SO SMART. Way smarter than me. And Wendy didn't have a mean bone in her body. A very kind person. But Lina felt the need to point out EVERY small mistake or blamed everything that went wrong on Wendy. I once saw Lina SLAP Wendy and then demand Wendy apologize for it. Lina called her names, belittled her, etc. And it pissed me off.

It pissed me off even more when I met their Mom and it was SO OBVIOUS that their Mom favored Lina. She even said that "Lina is definitely the prettier one. She could be a model" when Wendy was RIGHT THERE. It pissed me off SO MUCH.

So, I might have reacted in a way that could be an asshole move.

Like I said, I was a quiet nerdy kid. But I was also pretty well liked and I used that to my advantage.

I became a little whisper in people's ears. I spent an ENORMOUS amount of time and effort turning everyone against Lina. I spread rumors that were just baaarely exaggerating the truth. I encouraged people to shit talk Lina and talk kindly about Wendy. I basically changed Wendy's reputation into a glowing saint in the eyes of the school (not difficult, Wendy was great) and I turned Lina's reputation into garbage. Like, actual garbage.

It got to the point where Lina had no friends. No one DARED to risk being seen with her. Everyone loved to shit talk her. She couldn't keep a secret for anything. If she tried to confide in someone, the news would come out immediately. No one was on her side. I even had her boyfriend spilling embarrassing intimate secrets. He kept dating her just so he could make fun of her.

Well, she did have one friend. Lina had me. I was such a kind and faithful friend, who would NEVER gossip about her or be mean. She could tell me anything.

She even drew this REALLY pretty portrait of me. Just a pencil drawing on sketchbook paper. Whatever else Lina was, she was a good artist. It looked just like me.

I still have it, btw, it really good piece of art.

(I didn't have to worry about it staining my reputation, I was already known as being too kind for my own good. It's really not that hard to get a nice girl reputation.)

Anyways, I have been told that this was an asshole move when I tell this story. I don't think it was and I don't regret it, but other people seem to think it was excessive. When I think back to how much more CONFIDENT Wendy was by the time we graduated, and how she went on to an Ivy League college, I'm glad I ruined her sister's social life. Lina was so stressed out that she couldn't even TRY to harrass Wendy. And if she HAD tried, Lina would have had the student body at her throat. I didn't just ruin Lina, I also helped Wendy gain her footing in a new school.

Anyways, WAS I the asshole for ruining her? Or were my actions just?

[lanawinterscigarettes]

The Breakfast Club members at the beach

Warnings: swearing, smoking/weed usage mentioned

A/N: just got back from my vacation at the beach and since I wrote nothing while I was gone (oops) I decided to do it now

Claire Standish

Her parents definitely own some sort of vacation home on a private piece of land that she visits every summer (rich people things yknow)

Usually stays on a towel by the shoreline. She doesn't get in the water and if she does it's only to dip her feet in so she doesn't get her hair or makeup messed up

She'll flip through a magazine or something while waiting for the sun to give her the perfect nautral tan

Andrew Clark

He loves the beach but I think he spends more time in the hotel's gym than by the actual ocean since his dad's so strict about him staying in shape even during the summer

Totally the type of person to get up at the fucking ass crack of dawn just to run down to the very end of the shoreline and back. Man's crazy

Extra snacks must be packed if you're going with him because otherwise he'll eat them all in the first day of being there since he needs the calories

Brian Johnson

Poor boy's so overworked from school he has no idea how to relax properly, if his parents would let him that is

Even when on vacation he's still copying notes down from textbooks and flipping through flashcards for stuff that's not getting learned in school until the new year rolls around

He probably sneaks away at some point to use his (really shitty) fake ID to buy some edibles at one of the boardwalk shops to help him calm down some. The cashier is either too stoned to notice he's not twenty one or just doesn't care

John Bender

His reasons for going to the beach are pretty simple: weed and hot people (both guys and girls). Believe me when I say he can and will shamlessly ogle anyone he finds attractive when walking on the boardwalk

Pretty much all he does when there is get high. He has no need to visit any of the shops (other than the cannabis ones) and the beach itself doesn't interest him much

It entirely possible that he might just hang around the boardwalk the entire time, smoking a blunt while flirting with anyone who might pass him by

Allison Reynolds

She takes a couple different busses to go down there for a day trip as she doesn't have anything better to do

Might walk around the boardwalk for a bit, checking out the stores and stealing borrowing from a few of them, stuffing anything she likes that's small enough to carry into her purse

In the evening she sits on the shoreline with her sketchbook and doodles the sunset before heading back home

End notes: I promise I'm working on my asks and stuff okay I just tend to get distracted easily and forget

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[13keithxpidge13]

OH OH ! and miles wanting to count all of hobies piercings because hobie didnt remember how many he had (or even miles didnt ask and just started counting out of nowhere and surprises hobie hehehe) .. getting up really close to his face and noticing how pink hobie got . realising that he gets pink like that when he gets close to miles ....

"Have you noticed it at all?" Gwen asks him and Miles hums as he colors in his sketchbook.

They're sitting on top of one of the ledges in the Spider-Society HQ, chilling and relaxing as they wait for another mission to be announced. For now, Miles is biding his time by sketching.

Beside him, Gwen huffs and jostles his shoulder and Miles curses as he messes up his newest drawing.

"Gwen!" He shouts.

"I'm asking you a question," She laughs as he erases the imperfect line. "Have you noticed how Hobie changes colors?"

"Yeah," He gruffs out. "Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't," She says. "But...haven't you noticed how he changes color based on how he's feeling and that he goes pink around, well, /you/? And, /only/ you?"

"What are you talking about?" Miles glances at her with a raised eyebrow. "No he doesn't."

Gwen scoffs. "Yeah. He does."

"no he doesn't."

"he does."

"no!"

"yes!"

"Gweeennn," Miles whines and slaps his hands over his face as his cheeks darken at the implications of what she's saying. "Don't give me hope."

"I'm just saying," Gwen laughs. "It's pretty obvious."

Miles grumbles and glances away from her as he crosses his arms over his chest. "...I guess..." He mumbles and Gwen leans closer, humming. Miles puffs out his cheeks. "I suppose I /have/ noticed-"

"aHA!" Gwen shakes him and Miles breaks out into giggles. "I knew it! He sooooo has a crush on you! He likes you back, Miles, it's soooo obvious!"

"It's not!" He protests. "He's so indifferent I can never tell!"

"Well," Gwen smiles. "Why don't you try to catch him in the act? Make him bend to your cuteness and charm!" She teases as she pulls at his cheeks. "C'mon, I'll even help you!"

"But, how would we even do that in the first place?" Miles laughs at her poking. "It's not like I can just go up and /ask him/, he'll probably deny it! And, oh, maybe that will make him realize that /I/ like him! Gah! I can't!"

"You won't have too," Gwen reassures. "Just make him turn pink around you, do something that'll get him flustered and confront him about why he turns pink whenever you're around! Surely that'll lead to a love confession!"

Miles huffs in embarrassment and scratches at his sore cheeks that were whining from being pulled. "Oh, alright," He sighs. "But, /you/ have to help set up a time to do this!"

Gwen grins cheekily and pulls out her watch to message Hobie.

"Already on it."

+

"Uhm, thanks for coming over, man."

"Yeah, no problem, mate. Needed an excuse to leave my dimension fo' awhile anyhow."

Miles chuckles and tries to hide his nervousness as they both enter his room through the window he left open, being careful not to make too much noise as his parents were probably cooking dinner and he didn't want to disturb them.

They sit on his bed and a few moments of awkward silence passes by before Hobie bumps their shoulders together.

"somethin' you needed from me personally? Or did ya' just wan' hang out?"

"uh," Miles coughs and laughs nervously. "Well, uhm, I guess, uh-" He tries to come up with an excuse other than /I wanted to see you turn pink/, and then it hits him. "I, uh, I wanted to draw you!" He shouts and immediately curses himself for it.

Hobie blinks at him largely before laughing. "Ah, I see," He nods. "Ya' wanted a reference for ya' sketches? Well, all ya' had to do was ask, babe."

Miles laughs awkwardly and blindly grabs for his sketchbook which is on his bed.

"Uhm, okay," He brags as he holds his pencil shakily. "Can you uhm, can you turn so I can see your face? I need, uh, I need to get your facial structure right."

Hobie grins. "Sure, honey," He says and turns according to how Miles wants him too.

A few minutes pass while miles glances up and down, looking back up and down at him to make sure he's getting his face as accurate as possible. He gets so into drawing him that, when he glances up and sees the piercings on his face, he blinks.

"Oh," Miles deadpans and Hobie tilts his head.

"Hm?"

"Oh, uhm, well," Miles flushes. "I just, I noticed that you have a lot of piercings...I noticed it before but uh...you have a lot more than I thought."

Hobie grins cheekily.

"Ya' wanna count 'em?" He asks and Miles giggles nervously.

"Uhm, I might need too..." He says. "I wanna uh, I wanna get everything as accurate as possible."

"Mhm," Hobie hums. "I'm sure. Go ahead, love."

He had multiple piercings on his ears, on his eyebrows, on his nose...

Miles gets in closer even though his heart is racing and reaches up to touch his chin. "You've got one on your bottom lip, too?" He asks, tilting his head and attempting to remain calm. "It's big. Doesn't it hurt?"

Hobie's breathing echoes throughout his ear. "Nah, babe," Hobie laughs but it seems a little off. "Hurt at first but, uh, goes away after a lil' time."

"Yeah?" Miles brushes his fingers against his bottom lip and Hobie nearly jumps out of his skin.

Instead, his body goes /bright pink/ and Miles twitches.

"Fuck-" Hobie curses and stands up from the bed. "Sorry, fuck, sorry," He brushes his hands down his vest as though he were trying to brush away the color. "Sorry, mate. I don't know why it fuckin' does that shit, gods-"

"You don't?" Miles asks innocently. "Gwen said it was because your body changes colors based off your emotions like everything else does in your universe."

"That's-" Hobie stops and turns, mumbling something about Gwen being a snitch before he sighs. "Yeah. It does. It's fuckin' weird like that."

"Sooo..." Miles stands beside him and tilts his body closer to him. "What does pink mean? Because you go pink around me a /lot/, I've noticed. What is it? I won't make fun of you, dude."

Hobie's quiet, exhaling loudly through his mouth as he turns away and his cheeks seem to darken even further.

Miles' brows furrow. Come on. He has to /know/-

Hobie leans his head back and sighs once more.

"It's 'cause..." He swallows and scratches the back of his neck. "It's 'cause...I like ya', mate. Not in the bullshit platonic way either. Like, in the I kinda wanna kiss ya' and take ya' out to dates and hold ya' hand and shit."

Miles feels the breath punched out of him. "You-" He can't stop the wide smile that etches across his face. "Really?"

Hobie runs a hand down his face and mumbles; "Well, yeah..."

Miles almost jumps and down with joy until Hobie continues;

"I'm sorry, mate," He says. "I know it's prolly weird, ain't it? I don't wanna make ya' uncomfortable, love. If ya' want me gone, I'll leave, y'know? Just say the word, mate, and I'll be gone-"

"No!" Miles grabs onto him instinctively and Hobie jumps at it. "Don't go! You misunderstood me!"

"Wha-what?" Hobie stutters. "What're you talkin' 'bout?"

"You-I-" Miles felt his cheeks darken. He sputters for a moment and nearly lets go of Hobie's hand before the elder teen grasps at his fingers again so he couldn't get very far. Miles licks his lips and feels impossibly flustered.

"Miles?" Hobie leans forward, obviously concerned and curious. "What did you mean?"

"I just-" Miles turns his head away and Hobie shakes his head. "It's nothing-"

"nuh, uh, sweetheart," Hobie's smiling now. He's grinning from ear to ear and gently turns Miles to face him again and the younger teen is impossibly red. "Somethin' ya' wanna tell me? Like how I told you?"

Miles licks his lips and their eyes meet. Suddenly, a surge of confidence overtakes him and Miles grins.

"You wanna know what I meant?" He stands on his tip toes. "I'll show you."

He locks lips with Hobie and the punk grunts with it.

Miles grabs a hold of the back of his neck so he can force the elder teen to dip forward so Miles can get a better grip on him and he hums as Hobie licks at his lips

Hands grab at his waist and Miles squeals when he realizes how /big/ Hobie's hands are, how perfect they fit around him and his small hips. It makes shivers run up his spine like electricity and Hobie chuckles against his tongue as their muscles dances together.

Then, their lips part and a string of slick saliva is all that connects them.

Miles pants for air and knows his cheeks are flushed impossibly dark. Hobie leans forward again and kisses both cheeks, peppering his skin with soft slick kisses that have his breath hitching.

"Finally," Hobie murmurs. "Yer so fuckin' cute, love. So cute to kiss me like that."

Miles pouts. "It wasn't meant to be /cute/, man! It was supposed to be hot! I wasn't cute, I was /hot/," He whines and Hobie kisses his nose with a chuckle.

"Yes, yes, of course," He coos and Miles scoffs.

"Agree with me!"

"I am!"

"You're not!"

Hobie merely laughs and kisses him again, successfully silencing him.

[wintervalewritersecond]

siren song ||| - xavier thorpe

requested: yes! requests: open! siren song part three!

part one, part two click here for my masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for the overwhelming love! i never expected this to blow up, but i couldn't have done it without the person also requesting this! thank you all and i hope you enjoy the next chapter <3 like last time it picks up immediately where the other chapter ended! let me know what you think and enjoy! <3

wordcount: 4,581 warnings: she/her reader, some cursing, sad xavier

Ajax tells Xavier about what happened. Xavier takes everything into his own hands, which may or may not include sneaking into your room. He finds out the truth.

Ajax awkwardly lets out a laugh. He had a list with answers in his head with a correct response to it, but this one was not on the list.

"What do you mean? Xavier. Your best friend?"

You furrow your brows, shaking your head. The name 'Xavier' is not extremely common, definitely not in a small town like Jericho. Besides, you would know your own best friends, right?

"Ajax, I think you have been smoking too much. I know no one by the name of Xavier."

He looks at you like you have grown an extra head. Are you joking right now, or are you dead serious? You look just as confused as him, and you aren't really the best actress. It is already hard for you to keep a birthday gift a secret, so acting as if someone does not exist at all would be impossible.

"I- What?" The Gorgon shakes his head. "I might be wrong then. Don't worry about it."

The two of you return to your own tasks. You are still doing your Botany homework while Ajax sits and stares off into nothingness.

His head is a jumbled mess. Do you really not remember your best friend? Xavier told him what happened, but he wanted to hear it from you as well. Not that he thought Xavier was lying about what he had said, but just because he wanted to make sure you were doing okay.

It was truly strange, though. Yes, you had a big fight with Xavier, but ignoring someone and forgetting someone is a whole other fact. Not to mention that you didn't even so much react to the name.

Xavier needs to hear this.

-

"Dude!"

Ajax runs through the door as Xavier lets out a yelp, dropping his pencil to the floor. It's late at night already, does he not realize most people are sleeping already?

"Ajax, you can't just burst in at eleven pm?! You're lucky I don't have a roommate anymore-"

"Listen," he closes the door behind him, sitting down on the empty bed that once belonged to Rowan while catching his breath. "Dude, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. "

Xavier picks up the pencil from the ground, placing it on his sketchbook before closing it. The sketch was of you. For the last few weeks, he has drawn nothing other than you. Memories he has with you, things you have done together, and even only some half-finished sketches.

"What could possibly be so important right now-"

"Y/N forgot about you."

Xavier straightens his back, his eyes big as he looks at his friend. He has to be kidding right?

"That can't be," Xavier lets out a breathy laugh. "I would have expected her to ignore me, yes, but how can she forget me?"

"I thought she was kidding at first. I asked her what happened at the Rave'n and she said nothing about it," Ajax rolls off of the bed, pacing around the room. "And I thought that the fight would be something she would mention. Then I asked specifically what happened between you and her, but all she asked was 'Who is Xavier?'!"

The boy is at a loss for words. It is like every single word is pulled out of his head, replaced by a pounding headache.

"Are you sure? She- She is not the best actress, was it really not fake?"

Ajax shakes his head, breathing in deeply before rubbing his hands on his face.

"Nothing. Nada. If you even got close to guessing what a gift was going to be she would always immediately tell us, right? She didn't even flinch when I said your name. And then she told me she has never, ever met someone with the name Xavier."

The Gorgon places a hand on his friend's shoulder, slightly squeezing it before letting go again. Neither of them has any idea of what to do.

"I'll just try again," Xavier whispers. "Worst case scenario is that she genuinely doesn't want to talk again. I- Thank you, Ajax."

"Take it easy, okay?"

After a goodbye he exits the room, leaving the artist stuck in his own dorm. Only he and his thoughts. Thoughts seem to be racing through his head as his heart is pounding against his chest. He was a total asshole, but he just hopes that you still hear him out.

-

"Hey, Bianca?"

The Siren had placed herself on your bed, flipping through a magazine. The room had been quiet for a bit, only the sound of your laptop, pages flipping, and the soft instrumental music in the background. Bianca hums, looking up from the paper.

"I was in the library with Ajax," you slowly say, your leg bouncing up and down. "And... He said something really weird."

Fuck.

She should have known that Xavier and Ajax were going to be up to something. It's not like she didn't notice Xavier trying to talk to you. He tactically counted the seconds on when he should stand up just to be close to you, even bump into you if he had to. But the Song made it so you kept your distance.

A pen floats in front of your face as you try to distract yourself. You didn't use your telekinesis a lot, but your mind has not been on your laptop anyway.

"Oh?" Bianca raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah," you mumble before suddenly turning around on your chair, facing your friend. "Who is Xavier?"

"Xavier?"

You nod as the pen behind you falls back on your desk. You have not been able to get the name out of your head, repeating it over and over again to try and find some memory attached to him.

Bianca bites her cheeks. Is she to tell you? Or should it be kept a secret? Before the Siren Song, you did not really talk about it. But Bianca wouldn't hold the truth from you. She only wants to protect you from him, something you consented to.

"Xavier is," Bianca hesitates. "A student here at Nevermore. He did something incredibly stupid and dumb."

"Do I know him?"

She doesn't want to cause you any distress. She can say no, but then once the Siren Song breaks, it would only be worse. If she says yes, then you might go seeking answers.

"You used to."

-

Bianca didn't say much more after that. In a way, she was completely honest. She did tell you that you used to know him, but you had made your intentions very clear. Forget about Xavier and just have a moment of peace and quiet to yourself. It had worked for weeks now, yet Xavier doesn't feel like he has changed one bit.

During class, he still tries to get your attention, but Kent and Bianca are quick to shut him down. Kent doesn't know about the Siren Song, though. No, if he did, then the entire school would have heard it already. He just thinks that you want to stay out of Xavier's way, still mad because of the fight. It is true, in a way.

You were quiet the entire day. Not quite sulking, but you were thinking. Why is it that you can't recall anything about him? You even sneak some glances at the long-haired boy. He seems... Miserable. His eyes are dark, his eyebrows are stuck in a frown, and his hair is just messily placed in a small bun. He does not look bad, but just upset.

Even during lunch, you didn't really say a word. You insisted that you just needed some time and that your social battery was dead. But Bianca knew you were thinking about Xavier. If he just had not pulled this, everything would have been fine. She hasn't heard anyone talk about a Siren Song though, so he doesn't know the truth just yet.

Another few days go by before it is finally Friday again. For the entire week, Xavier had been trying to talk to you, but you have always hurried away from him. Not to mention that especially Bianca and Kent almost formed a wall around you. But Xavier also isn't the person to start drama in the entire Quad. So he waited. Patiently waited. During this time, he came up with a plan. Was it smart? Probably not. But this was the only time he could talk to you.

It is well after ten, which meant that everyone had to stay in their dorms. But Xavier had other ideas. He had sneaked out, running through the halls and out into the side of Nevermore. Your balcony had a fire escape, one that he used quite often to sneak in or out when he would hear Thornhill coming. It is a bit too dangerous to walk through those halls right now, especially considering he might wake people up. He doesn't have the patience to take his time right now, wanting to reach you as fast as possible.

He runs up the long flight of stairs, catching his breath once he finally reaches the top. He thought that running would make this a bit easier, but it doesn't seem to work too well. Your window is similar as to the one in Enid and Wednesday's dorm. It has the same spiderweb-like pattern, though yours is missing the colorful stickers on it.

Your side of the room is decorated with lots of smaller lights. The lightbulbs in the Nevermore lights seem to be dim, and you always insisted that the smaller lights looked more fun anyway. He stands in front of the window, trying to look through the glass.

"Y/N? Are you in there?"

Nothing. At least, no response from you. He can hear the clicking of your keyboard.

"I know you're still mad at me," he says again. "And I totally understand it. I have been wanting to talk to you, but Bianca and Kent always stand between us."

Nothing, again.

He looks behind him to make sure no one followed him before he pushes the bottom of the window, opening it before sneaking in.

There you sit.

It is like this is the first time he has ever seen you. At least, it feels like it. You are sitting with your back towards him, your head moving to the music that sounds through the headphones on your head. It was a gift that Xavier had gotten you for your birthday.

You had been planning to buy a new one for a while, but it was hard to save up money. So, he decided to go with you to the closest store to try some out. You had fallen in love with these, but they were quite expensive. So, as you had already walked out of the store, Xavier had quickly paid for them, hiding them in his backpack before giving them to you on your birthday.

You were even wearing his burgundy-colored t-shirt. You must remember him then, right? He slowly walks over to you, tapping you on your shoulder before he aggressively gets thrown against a wall. Ouch.

You turned around in shock, seeing the boy pinned against the wall.

"Oh!" You exclaim, immediately releasing him from your invisible grip. "I'm sorry-"

You squint at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Wait a second," you point at him. "There are no boys allowed in Ophelia Hall. And definitely, no boys that I don't know!"

Xavier stands back up, a pained expression on his face before he shakes his head.

"I just needed to talk to you for a sec, and you know what happened the last time Thornhill saw me in the halls."

Actually, you didn't.

"You have never been in my room."

You stand opposite the tall boy, looking him up and down. He feels familiar to you, and you are guessing that this is the 'Xavier' that Ajax and Bianca had mentioned. He licks his lips before letting out a deep breath.

"Look, Y/N, I know that you are still mad at me, but-"

"The only reason why I would be mad is because a stranger randomly showed up in my dorm room!"

His shoulders slump as he looks at you. Not one part of you recognizes him.

"Well, ever since the Rave'n and the fight we haven't spoken. I know that I was very, very wrong for doing that to you and you deserve much better," he runs his hands through his hair. "But I really need to apologize."

"Xavier, is it?" You awkwardly laugh. "I think you are mistaken. I don't recall seeing you at the dance, much less having a fight. I'm sorry?"

Should you say sorry? Surely he must recognize the person he had a fight with, and it wasn't you. His heart slowly chips away at itself, less and less connected to each other once he truly realizes you don't remember him.

"You truly don't remember, do you?"

His voice breaks a bit as he starts fiddling with his hands. You look up at the boy, feeling quite bad for him. He does look truly confused and stressed.

"No," you grimace. "Sorry. Truly."

"Nothing? Not even from the Rave'n or- or before that?"

"Everything I remember from the Rave'n is dancing, drinking some of those weird, blue drinks, and then that disgusting paint drenching everyone. After that, I just went to my dorm to try and get all of that out of my clothes and hair." You shrug, still looking up at him. "The only thing I did after, was hanging out with Bianca and sleeping."

There really is not one bit of you that remembers him. Or, you have just become a really good actress overnight. He did really hurt you, but he didn't think you would actually forget him. Xavier pulls on his scarf, coughing awkwardly as he nods.

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm really sorry, Xavier," you look at your window which is still slightly open. "Look, you are very pretty and you must also be super nice, but I think it is better if you leave. I hope you find the person you were looking for."

He nods silently, climbing back out of the window before descending the stairs, not once looking back.

The way back through Nevermore is slower. He doesn't feel the need to hurry anymore. Ajax was absolutely right. There was not one memory of Xavier left in you. Not even when you see him up close, when you smell the perfume he always wears, not even when you wear one of his shirts that he left behind.

Did a witch cast a spell on you, leaving you without any memories of him? There are witches at Nevermore, so it isn't unlikely. But how can it be that you remember everyone except for him? Ajax, Wednesday, Kent, Bianca-

Bianca.

If you recall going to the girl after the Rave'n, then that must be the whole reason why you forgot about Xavier.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he groans, picking up his pace before sneaking into the dorms where Bianca sleeps.

He should have known it. Bianca and you had gotten closer after he screamed at you, but he thought it was because you needed someone to talk to. After all, he turned to Ajax to talk about his problems. But, Bianca has one thing that not a lot of others at Nevermore have; the Siren Song.

He doesn't want to accuse her of having used it, the last time it ended badly. But he does want to know if she had anything to do with it.

Once he reaches Bianca's dorm, he knocks on the door. Not softly, either. He doesn't care if someone sees him now.

The Siren opens the door, an annoyed look on her face which turns even more annoyed when she sees Xavier. She expected him to show up sooner or later, and today was finally the moment.

"Do you not realize that it's almost twelve?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Just let me in," he groans.

Xavier is not here to play games. He wants, no, needs the truth. He needs to hear it, because if it isn't the Song, then he doesn't know what else it could be. Bianca steps to the side, closing the door behind him before crossing her arms.

"What do you want, Xavier?"

"Did you use your Siren Song on Y/N?"

"Why would I tell you?" She raises an eyebrow.

She just walks past him, back to sitting on her bed and scrolling through her phone. Xavier only stares at her, at a loss for words.

"I'm serious, Bianca. Just give me a yes or a no."

"Hm," she hums. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

The boy stays quiet, only looking at the girl. Please, just a simple answer. That is all he needs.

"To be completely ignored by someone you like?" She stands back up with a smirk on her face, throwing her phone on her bed before stepping closer to Xavier. "That, no matter how hard you try, she doesn't even bat an eye at you? Much less say your name?"

"What do you mean?" He grits his teeth. "Just give me an answer."

A smirk is still on her face as she shrugs. She has no need to tell him. Besides, he deserves it. He deserves to suffer, just in the same way you did. No matter how much she believes he has feelings for you; he has to find it out himself.

"Come on, Xavier," she lets out a sigh. "I will not help you if you don't get your head out of your ass."

"Bianca, please."

She takes a good look at the guy in front of her. He might be extremely stupid, but she can't help but feel bad for him. Yes, he is the entire reason that you had felt bad for weeks, and though she still thinks that he has to learn a lesson, he might need the truth.

"Fine," the Siren grits her teeth. "After the Rave'n, she came to my room. Like, right after your fight. Asked me to use my Siren Song and I told her that I would think about it."

She steps away from Xavier, pulling the piece of paper that you had previously signed out of her desk drawer.

"Then I saw how miserable she looked and how much you ignored her," Bianca points at Xavier, holding up the piece of paper. "So, with Y/N's permission, I used it."

This was everything he was scared of. He knew he was wrong, he knew he had to make things right, but he had no idea how bad he had gotten.

"You have to undo it, Bianca. I'm serious."

"Why?" She raises an eyebrow. "So you can go ahead and break her heart again by hanging out with the psycho?"

"No!" He exclaims, running his hands through his hair while letting out a sigh. "So I can make it up to her! I just-"

He paces around the room, fiddling with his fingers and pulling on his scarf. He still had not discarded his winter jacket, he simply couldn't be bothered.

"I really like her, Bianca."

"Then tell me why you ignored her."

Xavier doesn't have one reason. It might be because he truly believed you didn't like him back, he could have been too insecure, maybe because he got pulled into Wednesday's theories about some monster, or maybe he was just a total asshole.

It stays quiet for a good minute. Bianca then just places the paper back in its original place, leaning against her desk before looking up at the boy.

"I'll ask her," she mumbles. "I'm not promising you anything. I only do this because I know she likes you. You better get your shit together, Xavier. Now, get out of my dorm."

-

It was Saturday which meant that you went to Jericho. This time, you went with Enid, Wednesday, and Bianca. You and Enid tried to keep some distance between Wednesday and Bianca, knowing they aren't best friends. Even though Jericho is not a big town, it still has enough little stores to explore.

At one point, Enid had dragged Bianca with her, leaving you together with Wednesday outside of Weathervane. You sat on the little bench, just in silence as Wednesday was reading a book and you were sketching in a small little notebook.

"I want to ask you a question."

You look up from your sketch, looking at Wednesday.

"Sure!"

"What happened between you and Xavier?"

You raise an eyebrow, shrugging.

"I don't know why everyone keeps asking that. Nothing, I think?"

Wednesday doesn't seem to believe it. She has an eye for lies, not to mention that she is talented at finding out the truth. Most of the time, that is.

"You can not believe that that will fool me. Xavier has only been sulking for the last few weeks. He is living up to the whole tortured artist thing."

"Well, I hope he gets better soon. But I had nothing to do with it, Wednesday. Really."

"What are you girls talking about?"

Enid suddenly jumps out, a big smile on her face as she holds a small bag.

"Nothing," Wednesday shakes her head before closing her book. "Let's go back. These Jericho people make me want to throw up."

-

You take your shopping bags upstairs as Bianca follows you. The two of you were going to go through everything you bought. After all the bags had been emptied and all the items were tried on again, Bianca speaks up.

"I have to talk to you about something."

What is it with everyone suddenly being so serious?

"If it is about Xavier, I truly don't know what happened. He showed up in my room, insisted on apologizing for a fight that never happened, and then left again."

"It did," Bianca grimaces. "You don't remember what you asked from me?"

You slowly shake your head. You can't really think of anything at this moment. The only thing you feel is confusion. You hadn't known anything about Xavier before you finally heard his name when he sneaked into your room.

Bianca looks at you before nodding, breathing in deeply. She has to tell you; you might have changed your mind.

"You used to know Xavier. Really well, actually."

Question marks almost appear above your head.

"He... kind of ignored you for a few weeks," Bianca looks at you. "Then stood you up again at the Rave'n. You asked me to use a Siren Song on you."

You are at a loss for words. The poor boy had spent weeks being miserable for something you didn't even remember. But, from what you understand, he had done something horrible to you too.

"Okay," you just whisper, nodding your head. "So... For a few weeks now?"

"Yeah," Bianca takes the folded piece of paper out of her pocket, handing it to you. "This is what we agreed on. I just... Wanted to check in on what your thoughts are now. You didn't really let me know about the Song ending in any way, even though we both aren't sure if it'll work."

It stays quiet for a moment as you read the letter over and over. You try hard to remember it, but it just doesn't come back up. Nothing. Nothing about Xavier, nothing about the Song, not even the good memories you had with him.

"Do you think anything changed?"

Bianca looks at you as you hold out the piece of paper to her.

"What do you mean?"

"Xavier," you mumble. "Did anything change? The Song wasn't for nothing, right? If I really used to be best friends with him..."

Did he? He did spend weeks in his art studio, sketching every single memory he had of you with him. He tried to map out exactly when to run into you, He had even broken rules to apologize to you, finally getting his jumbled thoughts straight.

"I think he did. He is well on his way. I might have tried to set him straight," she lets out a laugh. "I told him he had to get his shit together. He really cares about you, but he just doesn't know how to deal with it."

"He might need some therapy," you shake your head. "I feel like it has been long enough, right?"

"You want to undo the Song?"

You nod, sitting down on your bed while looking up at her.

"Maybe he didn't mean it. I don't remember a lot about him, it's like I have only seen him vaguely in a dream or in the background of a picture. I trust him."

"Okay," she nods, "Let's try this. But, I am not too sure if it will work."

The least you could do is try, right?

"What do you think about... 'Remember Xavier from then to now, it is no question as to how. The Siren Song will now end, old memories will now again blend.'? You will remember everything from now on top of your old memories. I hope."

"Let's do it."

The amulet gets removed from her neck as she looks at you with a gentle smile on her face. She truly does wish you the best.

"Remember Xavier from then to now, it is no question as to how. The Siren Song will now end, old memories will start to blend."

Nothing.

It stays quiet for a few seconds before you look up at Bianca who is placing the amulet around her neck again.

"Is it supposed to work immediately?"

She looks you up and down.

"Usually, yes... You don't have your memories back?"

You slowly shake your head.

"Absolutely nothing."

This is exactly what Bianca feared. Though you knew the risk was there, it still was extremely disappointing that it couldn't be changed.

"What if I start over? If Xavier and I became friends once, we might become friends again, right?"

"That is something you need to decide yourself," Bianca takes her bag in her hands. "Do what you are most comfortable with. My input? It might be worth it."

A smile is on her face as she turns around to walk out of your dorm, pausing for a second before looking back at you.

"Xavier is a good guy. Genuinely. He just needs a little push sometimes."

-

Xavier had finally laid down on his bed, his hair still wet from the shower. He had taken the hottest shower ever, trying to get his mind off of things, yet it didn't work. He was back to sketching all he could remember of you. All pages up to now were filled with your face.

When his phone buzzes, he feels like he wants to throw it around the room. He is not in the mood to talk to anyone, but he had to turn on his alarm still anyway. The light of the phone is extremely bright as he squints his eyes, trying to shield himself from the brightness. But his eyes fly open when he sees the notification that made him grab the phone in the first place.

Y/N ♡

hi xavier! could we talk soon? let me know when you have time :)

He can not believe his eyes. He immediately sits back up, typing on his phone like crazy. With shaking hands, he finally sends you a response.

xav!

yeah! any time tomorrow?

He nervously stares at his screen, seeing the notification of your typing pop up.

Y/N ♡

sure! some relaxing before the visiting week, haha :) see you tomorrow!

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

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You're... giving me permission.... to share my ink headcanons.

well get ready

Talked about this one already but I'll share it again: I think Broomie is semi sentient. I like to think at first Ink didn't know that though, but still talked to broomie anyway. So, regardless of this fact Ink probably would've talked to broomie.

He's good at encouraging people but not comforting people. If that makes sense? (projection much pfttt)

If you ran your hand over the "tattoo" marks it have a slight divot in it. Like a crack in a road. Probably because... in my hc they're literally semi healed cracks.

They're is talented in many types of art not just one. Hes talented in singing, dancing, fashion design, mechanics, and architecture! Really the only one he struggles with is well... cooking. Do NOT let that man in a kitchen (I mean he's immortal why would he not learn multiple artistic skills?)

Y'know how canon!swap climbs on people because hes insecure about his height? I think Ink does the same thing.

(More yappening under the cut)

Deep down he feels like something is missing... what he doesn't know is he's missing his home, his AU. Sometimes hes goes on a search universe to universe in search of "something important he can't remember" but can never find it. Until he gets bored, forgets what he's doing or gets preoccupied with something else.

He likes switching up his looks so he may give himself a tail or paws or claws with his brush. Maybe he even changes the color of his limbs sometimes (that's more a crack hc though). He gives themself a new outfit at any chance he can get. (Edit: I actually imagine one of the reasons he would get excited for multiverseal events is mainly because he gets to show off a new outfit for that event. He goes ALL out)

Due to his dulled sense of pain often he isn't aware he's injured unless it's pretty severe. So he may just go about their day with injuries they don't know about. Typically Dream or Swap have to be like "dude you have a crack in your skull."

After that one comic with Swap and Ink, Swap bandaged up his skull despite Ink insisting he didn't need it. Mainly because Swap didn't know Ink could heal themself and just thought Ink was being humble. Everytime he went to go take it off, Swap would freak about it hasn't had enough time to heal. Until Ink did a more through "I have a brush bro chill" (not ink accurate dialogue).

He's super flexible!! like contortionist level of flexibility.

Oddly specific but I think they're the type to consume all sorts of fan content and enjoy it. Completely ooc and fanon stuff too. He would be the type to read a fic and go "I would NOT say that" with a giggle and write a heartfelt comment anyway.

If you know homestuck... Nepeta has a shipping wall. I think Ink would have something similar (projection?? blasphemy!). Maybe in his sketchbook or smth. I mean do you see how he reacts around his dads smh 😔😮‍💨. He doesn't take it all that seriously though... LMAO. But I feel like he would be like "🏳️‍🌈?" y'know? Is this making any sense? I hope LMAOOO

Ink knows being called "child" annoys Dream so when Dream's like "I'm not a child I'm 500 years old" he just uses different synonyms of kid " heya youngster" " hi boy" stuff like that to annoy him. Just to mess with him.

He loves "aggressive affection." Like he bites people. He also likes to be bitten (not in a sus way but like in a cat like way). He loves bear hugs. Stuff like that.

He loves being drawn on, like literally. He loves the sensation of art supplies on his bones. Particularly the texture of paint and pencil are the ones he enjoys the most. He draws designs and stuff on his bones sometimes.

He has that cartoon ability to walk on walls or the ceiling and completely defy gravity. How? Cartoon skelly powers ig.

[slay00ryu]

silly but... an MC who likes or wants to put makeup on the cast for fun?

Make Up Artiste.

Ronin - The Self Made Devil.

You are someone who loves to do creative make up looks, paintings all over your face, the exact copies of cartoon characters, make up inspired by a fictional character. You did all that.

Ronin knew about it, and he encouraged you in your creative ways.

"Damn baby, neat work. Looks perfect."

He'd say and kiss the top of your head or your knuckles to not mess your make up, well if he felt more annoying then he would.

Blowing air onto your face, kissing, poking, anything to get you riled up and irritated. He loved your threats.

"I will poke you eye out with my eyeliner I swear to God." You said after Ronin ruined yet another attempt to do your eyeliner.

"Awh, you know you love me." He barked out a laugh and pulled you into his lap so you would sit instead of standing while you're trying to win the war between your shaky hands and the make up tool.

One day you decided that you want to give Ronin a make up look, you even planned out one especially for him. A look that screams The Devil when you look at it and looks very masculine so Ronin's grotesqueness would be satisfied too.

But could you ask him for that? You sighed heavily as you looked at the drawing you made, that was the exact look you planned out. A whole white face, with lots of reds and blacks.

"What's up darlin'? Why feelin' so down?"

There was an elbow resting on your head, a man standing right next to you.

"Oh, Ronin! Um, I-"

You looked down at the sketch. The man lifted your head so you would look at him.

"C'mon. Spill it. I see how much you want to say something."

He snatched your sketchbook from you and inspected the drawing.

"Is that a new look?"

He looked at you, as if he was trying to imagine you with that make up on.

"Nah, it's not your regular style. Who's this for?"

And here it was. The question you wanted to avoid, but it was only natural for Ronin to see right through you.

"It was meant for... you."

Ronin's chuckle filled your ears, like a melody from a broken music box, beautiful yet oddly mysterious.

"Why are you so embarrassed darlin'? Come on, you can do this look on me."

He took off his beanie, lifting you up from your chair just to sit down himself and place you on his lap.

"So what will it be?"

His cocky grin drove you insane, but he also made you extremely happy. You kissed his cheek and gathered all your make up products.

You were sitting on his lap while you were doing that look, somehow he was very much obedient, keeping his eyes close when you told him to, not making any weird faces so your work won't be in shambles. Somehow giving Ronin this make up made you feel so overjoyed...

Angel - The Beautiful Soul.

A make up artist dating a model, who also happens to have a YouTube channel about make up and fashion? This felt like a dream every time you thought about it.

Angel gave you so many ideas for new looks, some related to her as Maria, some to her as The Heartsick Angel and some just to her. Your girlfriend who definitely overworks herself.

You were in the middle of creating another look filled with inspiration after Angel's new kill. The new idea looked pretty innocent when someone didn't look closely. Under all that innocence emphasized by a lot of pinks and hearts, a biblical angel was hidden, small eyes were all around the forehead and sides of the face. Some eyes were even supposed to be drawn on the neck.

"Now I just need to find someone to model for me."

You sighed after the sketch was done. You were proud of this, every detail was well thought, carefully placed to not destroy the composition.

While you were lost in your own inner world, two arms were wrapped around your shoulders and a sweet giggle met your ears.

"Did someone say a model?"

Angel!

Right, why didn't you think about it earlier? All of the looks were inspired by her anyway so she could as well be the model , right?

You turned around on your chair to look at her with dozens of lights in your eyes.

"You would like to model for me?"

You asked, your voice full of hope and barely contained excitement. You could swear that you saw two sparks dance in Angel's eyes after you have asked the question.

"Oh Gosh you're even asking?! You're so talented Y/N!"

Her words made you blush.

"And you know what? We could use it as an opportunity to boost your social media so more people would hire you."

Angel crossed her arms, she was thinking about something, something that had you in it.

"What do you mean?"

"You will record a video with me dummy! My followers will love you."

She chuckled and took your hand in hers to pull you up from the chair.

She looked so excited, and you were just so captivated by it. You didn't think twice before you had agreed to this and went to the recording den with her.

Misaki - The Great Fool.

You are a cosplayer, you post some videos online for fun, a variety of make up tutorials, acting videos or just silly videos in a cosplay.

You absolutely love doing this, it makes your inner child get what it always wanted, dress ups for fun. Fulfilling your childhood dreams felt sweet, it made your days happier.

Especially when your partner is your biggest fan. Misski, the worldwide known assassin, also known as your very best friend and partner, was very ecstatic when you shared your cosplaying passion with her. They were so excited to watch you prepare your cosplays on calls with them.

Your biggest dream was to do a duo cosplay with Misski, but them living on the other side of the globe wasn't really helping this dream come true. You were slowly giving up on this dream, just feeling so disappointed that you couldn't enjoy this hobby with your lovely partner.

But unexpectedly to you Misski found themselves in your apartment. She was supposed to assassinate an impotent politician and that's why she was sent to your town.

"Oh my! Misaki! I'm so happy to see you!"

You wrapped your arms around them, almost squealing from all the feelings that washed over you.

"I'm happy too, sweat pea."

They said and wrapped their arms around you too.

"You know what I'm also excited about?"

Their question caused you to back away a little.

"Hm? For what?"

You asked, brushing a strand of their hair back to where it was supposed to be.

"We'll be able to cosplay together!"

Their exclamation made you realise that they are right! Now that Misaki is here with you, you can do that duo cosplay you wanted with them!

"You're so right omg!"

You were smiling from ear to ear.

"After you're back from this assassination, you will not escape my make up kit."

You gave her the playful threat and a peck on the lips.

"I'll hold you onto that then. Oh yeah, watch my flower for me, don't want it to be all sad while I'm away."

They winked at you, obviously hinting at the fact that you will miss them.

And of course, they will miss you too.

At least until you're done with the cosplay look...

V - The warrior of Justice.

You are someone with a great passion for make up, maybe you're not an influencer or a real make up artist, but you love doing it.

It helps you get your creative spirit out, and it makes you feel and look great, what's there to not like?

V was a fan of your creative soul, the way you looked when you were focused, the fire in your eyes when you knew that you were doing something right, the proud and excited smile you were showing him.

These seemingly small things made his heart flutter.

And you were just so happy whenever you could show him a new project that you were working on for so long.

"V! V! V! V!"

You ran into the living room, hands full of make up products.

"My love? What is it?"

He caught you before you almost fell to the floor.

"Please be careful."

He sighed and helped you stand straight, then he crouched to collect your make up.

"Why have you decided to grace me with your presence?"

He asked. V was always such a charmer even when he didn't realise it, you were just so happy with this. Also his flustered face was even more adorable.

"V can I try to do make up on you?"

You asked in excitement, you gave him the best puppy eyes you could master.

"Oh, how could I ever not give in with you?"

He chuckled, the sound warm and deep, it made your heart flutter.

"Oh my! You're going to look so good, I promise!"

With a small hint of a smile, V followed you to the bathroom.

This moment of quality time that you two shared would stay in both your and his minds for a while, that's for sure.

[blakbonnet]

ARTIST OF THE WEEK @merryfinches ♥️

This week's aotw is Kylie who has bewitched us body and soul with her lovely art and even lovelier personality. Always there with a kind word, just all round a stellar human being, and someone who makes my day better anytime I see her on the dash. She was also game for answering a few questions:

Which do you use to draw (app/digital or traditional)?

I use Procreate on my iPad! I like being able to put it on my bag and draw anywhere - I don’t have as much time to draw as I want, so I do it in bits and pieces whenever I get the chance.

I love sketching with coloured pencils in my sketchbook too, I LOVE digital art, but there’s nothing like the texture of pencil and paper!

Fave brushes/pencils/mediums (links/screenshot?)

These are the ones I use most. The top 3 are all standard Procreate brushes. Chalk is my go-to for sketching and line art, and lightbrush and lightpen for highlights. I used Gingerbread Inker for colouring - it’s a free brush I picked up from somewhere, but I can’t find where!

Your favourite piece you've drawn?

Oooooooh, I don’t know! It’s easy to look back at basically every drawing and see the flaws, but this one of Ed and Stede in their inn is special to me, because I think it’s the first time I felt like I’d developed a comfortable style after messing around trying to draw them for months with… varying degrees of success.

And I’m really proud of the comic I drew of Ed having a nightmare, because i find comics so hard to draw and I’m in awe of everyone who does it!

Who's harder to draw: Ed or Stede?

Aaaaah, they both have challenges, but Stede I think? I prefer drawing his left side because of the way his hair swishes differently on both sides, and that side is easier. And he has a very particularly-shaped nose that can be really hard sometimes! Unless I’m drawing Ed’s leathers, in which case it’s him 😆

One essential tip for beginner artists?

There will be a point where you look at all your art so far and think “oh these are terrible, what am I even doing?” But that’s GOOD because it means you’re improving! And I’m sorry but that never stops - you will be improving forever! Nobody I know is ever really satisfied with their own art, and your art style is like your handwriting - it’s unique to you.

Also, get a sketchbook and a pencil, make mistakes, practice drawing your own hands and feet, screenshots, your cat, anything basically. And remember it’s supposed to be fun 🥰

Why OFMD? 🥹

Because it’s the fucking BEST! 😎

No seriously, I guess I like drawing Ed and Stede so much because they’re everything. Love, sex, tenderness, fun, cuteness, heartache and joy. Two souls who are so insecure and alone, and then they have someone who GETS them, who loves everything about them. They’re just wonderful.

[r0-boat]

perhaps some professor sycamore headcanons👀?

The Pokémon bug is biting me.

Probably because of my addiction too Pokerogue

Professor Sycamore headcanons

Sfw cut for length

Wow someone who is mentally stable and all around a really mentally healthy and physically healthy person? Well sort of... You see, Augustine Sycamore has a bad case of 'I can fix them.' a lovely charming and sweet man who has never been married because his track record of dating questionable borderline dangerous people and still somehow being the most wholesome person in the universe. He always has crazy ex stories to share and despite everything he rarely ever blames or resents them. It takes a lot for Sycamore to hate a person.

Professor Sycamore is a cheery person who looks on the bright side of everything and everyone around him except for himself despite his good sense of style, his handsome face, and his beautiful attitude, Sycamore is on the humble side, sometimes thinking rather poorly of himself. Any words of affirmation of any kind will make him melt into a shy mess, stumbling over his words as he tries to brush off the compliments.

He's a man that wears his heart on his sleeve He's proud of who he is and he will tell you everything about him rarely does he ever have secrets then when he does he's not very good at keeping them secret, his darting eyes and sweating face and clammy hands will give him away instantly. His carefree and cheerful attitude make him extremely popular with women. But he is extremely oblivious to how great he actually is.

He is a lover that is second to none he'll make you feel like the most important being in his life because you are. You are the apple of his eye and has a sketchbook where he sketches His Pokémon and takes notes However there are an embarrassingly amount of pages where he just sketches you, sometimes naked sometimes in imaginary clothing various poses, sometimes holding Pokémon, Sometimes holding miscellaneous objects. Anything.(He's a very good artist too) All of his drawings of you in his lab notes are wholesome He has another sketchbook of the more sultry drawings of you.

His favorite thing about you is your smile, and he wishes you could always smile. He craves when your lips curve upward, and he'll do anything to make you smile. His heart will stink if Your eyes will up with tears. His voice will get low, and he will gently murmur in a mix of French and English as he tries desperately to make you feel better, wiping the tears away with his thumbs, pepper in your face with kisses.

Another one of his bad habits is clinginess. Sycamore will go anywhere with you, but that's not what you think. Yes, he does love to give you physical affection like hugs or kisses, but most of the time, he's in the same room as you doing work on his laptop, taking notes, or just playing with a baby Pokémon in his arms. Anywhere you go, Even if it's outside in a park, he'll make it work. If not, if you have to go somewhere by yourself or he's stuck in the lab, he'll send you pictures throughout the day ranging from goofy shots of his face, random shots of his laptop or around the lab, or up close shots of Pokémon he's either working with or his own. When he finally gets home, or when you come home, he'll run up to you, hug you, kiss you, and give you cuddles until you both fall asleep.

Unsurprisingly Augustine's of language is physical touch, quality time, and occasionally gift-giving. This man is so in love with you that if he could, he would take you out on weekly dates. All his Pokémon, employees lab partners, acquaintances, and fellow professors know you.

Despite having powerful Pokémon he's not much of a Pokémon battler, He sees it as a fun activity for Pokémon to get exercise. He's very much a lover, not a fighter. Until... Someone his loved ones. Then it's like a switch snapped inside of him.

Knows how to play the guitar but hasn't done it in years and warns you that he's a bad singer before he sings a song for you. (He's voice is like an angel)

If you don't speak French then sycamore's favorite thing to do is speak to you in French because you'll never know what he's saying to you. He could say it the most sweetest nothings and filthiest things and you'll never know.

When he gets caught up in his work He will go many nights without sleeping sometimes he'll even forget meals. So please get on to him about that.

[danyvhell-writes]

vere hcs? preferably for a sub reader but it's fine either way!! thx a lot :P

General Vere headcanons (Touchstarved)

GN reader - no warnings | Thanks for the ask <333 Took me more time than I planned but here it is ! (Sorry for the wait lil anon, I was quite busy this month :') Writing about him was so fun, he's just so malicious and silly ?? Hope you'll like it hehe >:)

• Anything becomes a reason to tease you ! A little smile you gave him ? A blush ? Stammering even just a bit ? He will tease you to death if he can.

• He sees everything. Think you can hide something from him ? Ah, how naive of you. If something bothers you he will know, don't try to put on a mask. "Oh someone seems upset hm..." "No I'm not !" "I just said someone, why do you think you were targeted MC ? Care to explain yourself ?" he says with his devious little smile. You don't even need to speak, he reads you like an open book :').

• Not one to talk about his feelings openly but definitely makes you know when he appreciates your company ! It might be by taking you to private operas, going to fancy teahouse, gifting you little paintings he did, inviting you for shopping and more...

• Want to know how he truly feels ? Pay attention to his ears. They tell a lot more than he does, depending on how they twitch, their angle and much more... reading him becomes way easier.

• Would 100% write you letters. Casual letters where he just writes about his life, spicy letters where he describes in various ways how he would devour you... Whenever he needs to express something, he writes to you and doesn't even expect an answer ! You'll open your enveloppe and see "I can't believe Vanessa, this absolute rotten bitch, stole my silver ring ! Can you believe it MC ? I should rip her finger off with the ring and keep it so she remembers her wrong..."

• If he can get any reaction from you, it's a win. Loves to see how you'll respond to his flirty proposition, especially if you get flustered 👀

• You know this type of people who hit furnitures/stuff when they laugh ? Well Vere does it but with his tail, tell a funny joke and you can be sure you'll get hit (gently...or not) with it !

• Would be thrilled to analyze your sketchbook if you're an artist. Trying to hide it from him ? Not an option, you will show him everything ! I just know he'll sneak it to look through every pages, taking notes of striking elements and how your artstyle translates with different techniques.

→ Drawing sessions with him omg ! At first he'd joke about needing a live model and why not try nude modeling but at the end you guys end up super concentrated in your respective art piece. Definitely wouldn't mind becoming your muse tho...

↑ Adding into this but, he'd leave little notes and cute doodles when you're not looking. You just open your sketchbook and see next to your recent stuff "The lines are timid I know you can do better ;)"or "I was there..." or even "Draw me next time ! I'll be the best piece."

• The both of you together can easily become absolute menace to society. The cheer chaos you can cause is too much for this city ! If Kuras ever finds out about your malicious plans, he'll be disappointed.

• Will let you brush his hair and tail if you're good enough. "Mess with my hair and you know what awaits you !" Please convince him to try new hairstyles, make him even prettier than he already is >:)

• As much as he is an expensive fox, he'll enjoy homemade gifts. He won't show it too much but he keeps everything you've made for him at his place. Bonus point if it's decorative pieces ! (The thought of you taking time to put effort into something for him makes him smile more than he can admit).

• This man likes to cook so don't hesitate giving him recipes you like. Not sure he'll succeed preparing them but the effort is always well put ! If you're good in a kitchen, he'll find an excuse to cook/bake with you.

• Enjoys showing you around the city, especially secret places. He doesn't just share his secret spots with anyone so you can feel privileged !

→ Talking about spots he likes, he will take you to his favourite restaurants. You'd expect fancy, luxurious place but no ! Most of them are little family business owned by the same people since decades. The food is straight up heavenly and you let him know. "I've been around this city long enough to know the best places ! You shouldn't be surprised."

• Grows really protective of you. Of course he knows you can defend yourself, but if anyone dares to hurt you, they'll have to face lethal consequences. Anyone threatening you "Do you want me to break their kneecaps ? I can also hit their sciatic nerve if you wish ! Or maybe-" "Vere no."

• If you enjoy some good gossip, you're gonna be fed just right with this guy ! We know he knows everything, he's the ears of the city. Juicy drama to shocking revelation, he's got every type of story in stock ! All you gotta do is ask and the conversation will last for hours.

• If you're in his presence, forget about personal space. Your space is his now ! His body will always be in contact with yours, even if it's not noticeable at first.

• Makeover ? Yes. You will be his personal doll. If he has to test outfits, color combinations or other stuff you'll be his subject ! He'll try a lot of different clothes on you until you look like the hottest person alive (after him). Dressing you up is one of his favourite activities and of course you guys would wear matching outfits. You two are just ✨fashion✨.

• Don't know why but I feel like he would love playing board/card games, especially if they involve money ! Think you can win against him ? Nope no chance, bluffing is too easy for him and he's an absolute beast (pun intended). Just picture him playing 'loup-garou' (The werewolves of miller's hollow in english I think ? My french ass can't remember), I know he'd kill it !

• Has a very distinctive laugh. You could hear him from miles away and recognize him instantly ! Also it's kinda infectious, if he starts bursting out laughing, you'll easily follow into it.

• This man growls. Like literally. It doesn't happen a lot but whenever he does it always surprises you.

• This is him :

[mvltisstuff]

hello again, i’ve requested a few times (the feels and sweet nothing) and i was hoping i could request again? (i think i might add an emoji at the end bc i love your writing and will keep requesting as much as you allow ❤️❤️) anyway, i hope you’re doing well and things are going good.

i was wondering if i could request a buck fic where is partner is an artist and he finds a sketchbook of sketches of him and when he asks about it they talk about how pretty he is and how deserves to be appreciated and just making him feel super loved with it. thank you if you get to it and ofc no troubles if you don’t. take care 🥰

also is 🚒 good for a way to recognize me??

wasteland, baby! - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: omg you always have such creative ideas! i love receiving requests so always feel free :)) 🚒 = ❤️‍🔥 i also won’t be posting as frequently for the next few weeks due to finals, but after that i’ll be posting a ton!!

buck had come over to y/n’s apartment after his shift for dinner, and the scent of thick acrylic paint and primer had stung at his nostrils. he began to love the smell, as he knew that it meant she was around. he had let himself in with his key, taking in all of the perfectly placed plants and artwork on the walls.

she had a canvas that was almost complete, with just a few finishing touches. buck had walked over to it to examine. her talent was extraordinary. he knew it was out of this world, and the way she was so proud of her pieces his made his heart swell up with love.

“hi, buck!” y/n says, beginning to walk out of the hallway from her room to her art. she was wearing a pair of dark green pants and a white t-shirt which somehow complimented her beautifully. her face had small specks of blue and red on her cheeks and black and grey streaks on her shirt. “sorry it’s such a mess in here, but doesn’t this look great?”

“no, don’t worry about the mess, but how long did that take? it’s amazing!” buck stutters a big, not being able to comprehend how art like that could come out of her hands.

“thank you, love,” she replies, taking his belongings and placing them down for him. “how was work today? anything good?”

“just a normal old day, but you know it’s the 118.”

“it is never normal at the 118,” y/n smiles and gives him a cheek kiss before going to wipe her face off. buck goes to sit down in her living room on the couch, and she follows behind him with a quick change of shirt. she placed a small pizza in the oven to cook for them, and cuddled up next to him while they told each other stories about their day.

“it was wild, y/n,” buck starts. “i mean this woman literally rose from the dead after like 15 minutes, after being under a street. oh! you’re going to love this- and we saved some puppies in a sewer.”

“oh my god, are they ok?”

“they’re all fine, but i’m not sure if we are right now.”

“what do you mean?” she asks, slowly and carefully.

“you don’t smell something burning?”

she takes a deep inhale and looks over to her smokey kitchen. it wasn’t too bad, but definitely enough to make it inedible. “shit! fuck, i forgot about it!” she says, bouncing the pan up and down while trying not to burn herself.

y/n was busy discarding of the pizza when buck looked over at her with joy. he had a cheeky smile on his face and was laughing at the forgetfulness of both of them. he looked back down in front of him and the coffee table, and he saw a book that y/n always has on her. she brings it to work, to her family, anywhere she goes, she has it. it was her beloved sketchbook, filled with hundreds of small doodles and big pieces. buck has seen a lot of things in it, admiring each one before he comes across a bookmarked section.

when he flips the pages of the book, he notices that the person that is sketched and shaded looks particularly familiar. he makes note of the sharp nose and soft, but hard jaw. he sees the famous birthmark on the side of his face. he’s never looking right on, though. he’s always focused on something or has a light grin on his face. buck knows these are of him, but he doesn’t think he had any importance to be the top drawing in her book.

y/n walks back in to greet her boyfriend, “i think we might just have to ord-“ she looks at the sketches that she had put on that paper. a heat rose up into her face, reddening her cheeks and making her feel a sense of embarrassment.

“a-are these me?” buck asks, quietly. y/n nods, slowly, praying that she didn’t make him uncomfortable and that she will see him again tomorrow. “i-um..”

“you don’t have to say anything, buck. i never meant for you to see those and if you don’t like them, i’ll never do it again i swear. you just, you’re so beautiful, buck. and i love to draw beautiful things.”

“i just don’t know what to say, these are so good. i feel like you know me more than i know myself,” he says, chuckling a bit.

“you like ‘em?”

“i love them,” buck says.

“good, i just couldnt stop myself. you are always so pretty, no matter what and i want you to know that, so i tried to convey it through this. i was going to show you eventually, but i wanted to do more.”

“why me, though? you could draw anyone,” buck asks.

“no one else is you! you might have a pretty face and all but there is really nothing more beautiful than your soul. you are filled with so much love and sweetness and i’ve been dying to find a way to show you, because you are loved, evan. i love you and i wanted to put my two favorite things together. not a day goes by where i have anything but love for you.”

suddenly, the feeling in bucks chest is rising stronger, feeling like it’s going to burst. when it does, he has strong riptides of tears in his eyes. with a pure smile on his face, he passionately leaves a kiss on her lips, and he feels loved for the first time.

growing up, his parents never showed him love. he always begged for it from everyone he knew, and now he feels like it isn’t deserved. but someone, y/n made him feel like he will forever be worthy of love. and he will never forget how she fixed him for the best.

[jadelynlace]

Full-Term⎮Ink Drinker Blurb⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]

Read more Ink Drinker here.

Author's Note: I teased about it, and you guys begged for it (pun intended). Now, I have never been pregnant, and for any of my followers who have, I apologize if this is no where near close to the actual experience of pregnancy. But I did try my best.

Content Warnings: Pregnancy sex (full term), mentions of birth and Ink Ivar (who is really in need of a warning all on his own).

Word Count: Just shy of 2000 words.

You were ready for it to be over. The past 38 weeks had been full of surprises, watching your body change, watching Ivar fall in love with you all over again. How he could not get enough of the way you are growing a human inside of you. From the photos, to painting your bump, to finding out that you’re about to bore the first Lothbrok girl in over five generations. Ivar was through the moon. But you, oh, you were ready for it to be over.

The thought of birth is exhilarating, it is terrifying. You’ve seen it in the field; in its glory, in its horror. You hadn’t yet made up your mind as to whether you wanted the intimate home birth, or the hospital birth. You stacked up the complications you could have, often leaving you awake at night, or slithering into your dreams. Too many times you’ve envisioned waking up in your own pool of blood or worse: leaving Ivar alone as a single parent to a newborn.

Walking hardly helps, walking at an angle hardly helps. You roll on the exercise ball, as Ivar sneaks glances at how you move your hips, wishing it was him below you. Helga has offered you tea, blends that she claims helped her deliver both Phoenix and Apollo rather quickly. Hvitserk makes a game at trying to jump out from around the corners at the station, hoping it’ll scare you into labor. But he’s only ever been met with the sight of your middle finger. 

Desk duty at the station is tedious enough, but you could easily do without the input of the men you work with. It was hard to believe some of them were medics, even harder to believe that they were fathers themselves. 

“We could have sex,” Ivar says to you suddenly. Eyes glued to his sketchbook as you adjust, and readjust, how you’re sitting on the couch.

“What?” You say, not quite sure you heard him correctly. His subtly could rival that of a sledgehammer.

“To induce labor. I read that sometimes the best way to get the baby out, is to do the same thing that got it in there,” 

The last 38 weeks had taken their toll on Ivar too. You can see the difference in his face, mentally preparing himself for the journey that is coming. The faintest hint of dark circles from staying up with you; in your pain, your sickness, your cravings. Walking on eggshells at times because of the swing in your emotions, and how you would just sometimes cry. Over him, for just existing, and how much you love him. Or, how he once closed the oven door too hard and you feared the oven must hurt. 

Ivar was more ready for this than he had ever been ready for anything in his entire life. And the final stretch of days felt like years, but Gods, watching you grow a human is the best experience of his life.

“You really want to have sex with your pregnant wife, to induce labor?” You ask.

“Baby, I really want to have sex with my pregnant wife even if it doesn’t induce labor,” Ivar answers as if it’s so completely obvious.

“Your pull out game is what go me into this mess,” You tease.

“As if you didn’t beg for me to come inside—”

“Ivar,” You cut him off. “Everything hurts right now. And I have to pee again. But I can still manage to stand up and smack you,” And Ivar just offers you his tell tale smile, a grin that stretches from ear to ear, and you calm down. 

*

You take each step one at a time, planting two feet parallel before continuing, and you swear the Braxton Hicks contractions are purposely worse on the stairs. Ivar whines from the bed, wondering where you are and you feel tears in your eyes because you simply can’t walk up the stairs any quicker. Finally though, you’re in the door way and Ivar is in his boxers, constructing the best pillow mound you’ve seen to date. 

“I figured this might help,” He tells you, arm out stretched to you. As you get closer, he’s there to fix your hair, standing in front of him as he braids it to keep it out of your face, but to ensure you’re not going to wake up from a headache. There’s a kiss to your shoulder next, as he says “There,” ever so softly.

“Can you help me take off my dress,” You say to him.

“Too hot?” But you don’t answer. Ivar’s hands move slowly, rolling the hem of your nightgown towards your waist and slipping it up over your arms, all while paying careful attention to your braid. Once it’s discarded, you stay where you are, and Ivar’s hands splay across your bump like hot coals, before they gingerly lift it, relieving the pressure. You only moan.

“Just a few more days, baby,” Ivar tells you softly. Slowly his hands move again, covering your chest, the pressure in them as they grow fuller, and fuller. 

“Can I take you up on your offer?” You peep.

“I offer you lots of things, every day,” Ivar hums.

“You know exactly which one I am inquiring about, Ivar,” You deadpan. Ivar’s lips land softly on your shoulder again, humming in agreement as his hands continue to roam. Across your bump, to your chest, your lower back and you’re beginning to melt before him.

You move, and Ivar just watches you, setting his glasses on the night stand while you lie down. He’s behind you in an instant but you haven’t found comfort yet.

“No, not like this, it hurts,” You hiss and Ivar stops.

“Hold on,” He says, helping you move, “Try this,” And he moves the pillows again, letting you rest over them.

“Oh, that’s better,” You sigh, melting into the fabric. “So much better,” You hum, nuzzling your face.

“Just relax,” Ivar hums, kissing between your shoulder blades.

“You really want to have sex with your pregnant wife to induce labor?” You mumble again while you feel Ivar’s hands on the small of your back. “Oh, that feels so nice,” You then sigh when he applies pressure where you ache. “Are you even going to be able to get it up?”

Ivar leans over you then, length pressing against you and you giggle.

“Did you even doubt that?” He whispers in your ear, leaving a kiss to your temple.

“No, not really,” You reply, his hands tracing you. “I haven’t shaved since I could see my feet,” You mumble. “Are you sure you really—”

“Do I need to gag you? Is that how this is going to be?” Ivar asks, shifting his weight behind you as his boxers are tossed somewhere behind him. “Can you try to relax for like, twenty minutes?”

“You’re going to last twenty minutes?” You quip, simply because you cannot help yourself. Ivar’s hands are at your cheeks just as the comment leaves your mouth, but instead of the quick smack you anticipate, he grabs handfuls, fondling the skin.

“We both know who’s not going to last,” Ivar hums, tracing your slit. “But when you want me to stop, you tell me, alright?”

“I know Ivar, I know,” You hum.

Ivar’s warmth covers your back, body over yours and you can’t help but shiver in anticipation for his cock to spread your walls. He rests his head against yours for a brief moment, palms tracing your stomach and you can picture the smile on his face. He leaves you for a moment to nudge your legs to spread, and out of pure instinct they fall open.

Grabbing himself, Ivar taps the head of his cock against you, just to tease you before he pushes his length into you slowly, inch by inch as your wall spread with a delicious pleasure. Feeling every vein and trace of skin before he bottoms out, and rests against you.

“Oh my god,” You moan, thighs already trembling as his hands waste no time to cover yours as they bunch the sheets. “Oh, fuck,” You gasp.

“I know,” Ivar hums back. “Better?”

“You have no idea, Ivar,” You moan into the pillow. “Gods, you have no idea,”

Ivar stays still, letting you feel the weight over you, the pleasure between the two of you, his cock throbbing inside of you. He only moans from where he is, his lips pressed against the curve of your neck before he finally rocks his hips. Careful to let the weight fall to his legs, you’re nearly dripping as his cock slides, pushing back into you and the intensity makes you shake. You whine as Ivar’s hands squeeze yours, harder.

Pulling back, you feel his hands press into your back, his cock staying still and your mind is left to remember all of the times he would have taken a fistful of your hair into his grasp. Or how his hand print would redden across your backside. But this time, he’s taking his time, taking more care than he ever has to make sure you’re both going to remember this. He doing exactly what he said: he’s getting your child out the same way he put them in there. With love.

You don’t have the words to tell him to go faster, to fuck you harder. The sensitivity makes the pleasure that much more intense, and you’re on the grasp of your first release as his hips moves lazily. 

“You’re going to make me cum,” You gasp, causing Ivar to only hum in response as he moves. Nudging your head with his, his lips catch yours for a brief moment, pressing his forehead against you.

“You always feel so good,” He rasps, his cock slowly moving through your folds. 

You relax further into the pillows, your thighs shaking as he brushes your sweet spot. 

“Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl?” Ivar hums, and you only nod. “Good,” He teases. 

His thrusts grow deeper, pressing against you harder but still mindful of your body. Your orgasm grabs you suddenly, tired body shaking under him, fingers interlocked over yours. Humming from above you, you press against Ivar further, helping him over his edge as his muscles tense, cock releasing inside of you as he moans deeply from his chest. 

The room is still, his breathing over yours as Ivar nuzzles against you, eyes closed as he holds you. His cock finally flags as he moves back, pressing his hands against your back before he helps you move. 

“There you are,” Ivar teases, helping you stand on shaky legs and you only look up at the man who falls more in love with you every second.

“Can you help me get my nightgown back on?” You ask softly and Ivar chuckles. He moves then, and you stop him. “Wait, let me just hug you first,” You finally peep, wrapping your arms around his neck, inching as close to him as your bump will allow and Ivar only wraps back around you. 

“You know, it could take several attempts for this to work,” Ivar quips. 

“Oh, honey, I know,”

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[strawberryxfieldz]

Garden of Eden (Wally x Reader)

a fluffy Wally/Reader one-shot I posted on my AO3 and figured I’d post on Tumblr!

since my main Wally/Reader fic has a darker plot, I really wanted to write some fluff for the puppet man. no experiencing the dreadful horrors here! Just pure fluff and stuff. short and sweet! Enjoy! @:)

CW for eye contact (yknow how it is)

Welcome Home Masterlist

When you wake up in the morning, you always have the assurance of Wally’s presence beside you. He had a sleep mask on and pajamas but you knew he wasn’t really asleep. Wally didn’t really understand the concept of sleep and took to repeating “I’m sleeping” over and over again in a hushed whisper that lulled you to sleep at night. Right now, though, he was simply smiling, hands folded on his chest.

You leaned over to pull his sleep mask off his face and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Oh!” His face lit up with delight. “You’re awake!”

You cuddled into his side, resting your head in the space between his neck and shoulder. He smiled and put an arm around you, hugging you closer.

“Yeah…” you replied with a tired groan. “Five more minutes before we get out of bed, though. I’m still sleepy.”

“Take your time, my love.” Wally kissed your head as you lay there, peaceful and happy in his arms.

You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this life with Wally but you certainly knew you loved it. You loved that you realized your feelings for each other, that you moved into Home with him, and that you were able to start off every morning like this.

Soon, you’d be out of bed and in the kitchen, helping each other make pancakes. Perhaps some would burn—Wally wasn’t the greatest cook—but you would laugh it off. At some point, you’d push back Wally’s long blue hair that liked to cover half of his face when down. He didn’t enjoy having to go without his pompadour (he used to hate you seeing him like that especially) but he was used to it now. You’d told him enough about how pretty you found him without all his hair products until he believed it. When his whole face was revealed, you gave him a loving, sweet kiss that he'd lean into with a smile.

After, you’d find yourselves underneath the big apple tree in your yard, humming songs and telling stories. Wally’s hair was done by now, and he had a sketchbook in his lap as he doodled many things, including you. You, meanwhile, were doing your best to make a flower crown. Julie taught you how to the other day. Unfortunately, you didn’t seem to be a quick learner.

“It’s not coming out right,” you whined, disappointment high in your voice.

Wally glanced up from his drawing to look at you. “Here. Let me see.”

You handed him your sad attempt at a flower crown with a frown. Wally didn’t hesitate to put it on his head and he gave you a small smile.

“How do I look?” he asked.

You suppressed a laugh at seeing the ridiculous mess of already-unwinding flowers sat atop him.

“The most.” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Just as always.”

Wally smiled warmly at you, a bit lovestruck, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again, this time on his mouth.

Being a puppet, Wally didn’t exactly have lips to kiss, just felt. It also meant he didn’t understand the concept of kissing. He knew it was a declaration of love and, by now, he knew it was one of your favorite ways of giving affection. Still, he didn’t actually kiss back so much as press his face against yours as best as possible and make a ‘mwah’ sound when you leaned away. You considered it kissing, though, even if he did it wrong. He was just too adorable.

“You’re the one who's the most, darling,” he cooed.

You felt something ignite in your chest when he called you that. ‘Darling’ being his surname made it all the more flustering.

“But you’re so beautiful,” you insisted. You moved to cradle his face with your hands and he instantly stilled. “Here…” You kissed his forehead. “…here…” You kissed the space between his eyes where a nose would be. “…and here…!” You quickly pressed another kiss to his mouth.

“Mwah!” Wally said enthusiastically when you pulled back.

You giggled and scooted closer beside him. He rested against your side, leaning his head against your arm.

"What're you drawing there?" you hummed after another minute or two.

Wally held up his sketchpad proudly. He was only working with a few crayons and there was nothing but scribbles on the page, yet you were able to recognize your likeness pretty well between the lines. 

"You!" he replied with a sappy smile. "It's my favorite thing to draw, after all!"

You immediately threw him into a hug. Wally was much more accustomed to hugs thanks to his fellow neighbors but still went limp in them. It was like embracing a warm ragdoll, and you'd think Wally didn't like it from his lack of reciprocation if it weren't for the happy hum he made when his face was pressed against your shoulder. 

"Wally, you're so talented," you told him as you leaned away. "I'm so lucky."

Wally beamed back at you before continuing to color, content. You let him draw, relaxing in the relative silence between you, mind still whirring. As peaceful as the moment was, you couldn't help feeling dismayed. 

Wally did too much for you. He was always making art for you, his greatest muse, and he learned your ways of physical affection for you, even if he still didn't understand it all too well. There had to be something you could do for him in return before you felt like a totally inadequate partner to him. You racked your brain as you sat there, quiet, listening only to the sound of Wally's crayons moving against paper. That gave you an idea and you bit back a cheery smile as you made sure to store it away in your thoughts for later.

A few days later, you found yourself in the living room of Home, putting the finishing touches on your masterpiece. Well, okay, 'masterpiece' was a bit of an overstatement. In front of you, sitting atop a pile of old newspapers was a lump of clay very generously deemed a ceramic sculpture of an apple. There were too many bumps in the wrong places and the stem was leaning too far in one direction, making it askew, but it was still an apple!

At least, this is what you told yourself as you leaned back to examine your work. You put a finger to your mouth thoughtfully.

"I don't know..." you talked out loud to yourself. Then, remembering who you were with, asked, "What do you think, Home?"

Home made a sound that sounded like a door squeaking. You were pretty sure that was a good thing.

But, before you could mull over it any longer, you heard the front door open. You shot up from your spot on the couch, taking the ceramic in your hands and hiding it behind your back. A moment later, Wally walked in, a slight smile on his face that grew bigger upon seeing you.

"Hi, love!" you greeted, trying to seem as not suspicious as possible. "How was hanging out with Julie and Frank?"

"Fun." Wally nodded. "We chased a lot of butterflies. Frank got mad when I asked if I could keep them."

"Aw, I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Wally shrugged. "Friends shouldn't be caged in anyway. They should be flying free."

You smiled at the sentiment and leaned in to kiss his cheek, only to stop when he spoke again.

"What do you have behind you?" he asked, genuinely curious. 

You leaned back suddenly with a nervous smile. "Huh? Oh, nothing!"

"Can I see it?"

You rolled the ceramic in your hand, feeling every lump and crevice with a frown. Yet, you looked into Wally's big, black eyes, soft and caring as they stared back at you intently, and couldn't help but give in.

"Okay. Fine..." you sighed as you pulled the apple out from behind you. "It's, um, a thing I made for you."

You held it out to him so he could see it, bracing yourself for his reaction. 

Wally's eyes widened and his mouth parted with a small gasp. "An apple?"

"Yeah! It's made out of clay," you explained. You watched as he studied it before carefully taking it into his own hands. "You know, I figured since you like staring at your apples but they eventually all go bad... I'd make you one that never goes bad!"

Wally was quiet for a moment and his whole face brightened. "It's perfect!"

He walked over to the mantel and placed the ceramic there gently as you continued.

"Really?" Your smile twitched. "I know art is kind of your thing, I'm not as good at it but I just thought I'd do something for you since you do so much for me and-"

Wally smiled before pressing his mouth against the side of your face, effectively cutting off your rambling. You relaxed when he made a 'mwah!' sound as he leaned away. 

"I love it," he reassured you, voice soft. 

"Oh." You let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

"But why would you think you have to make something for me, silly?" Wally tilted his head. 

You looked down, suddenly feeling sheepish. Wally gingerly took one of your hands with his, giving you an encouraging nod. In return, you gave him a warm smile.

"I don't want you to think I'm inadequate," you replied with a shrug. "Because you're so talented and nice to me and all these other things and you deserve the best!"

Wally chuckled. You couldn't help but smile more at the sound of it, slow and monotone. You loved his laugh.

"You are the best," he told you, rubbing your hand with his thumb. "You're the most, darling. Your love is more than enough."

You felt a bundle of emotions begin to take over you, all so overwhelmingly happy you could hardly even fathom it. Gratitude, comfort, and pure love rushed through you as you continued to stare adoringly into those beautiful eyes. You wanted to jump for joy, hold Wally close to you and never, ever let go, and see to it that you made every day of the rest of his life perfect and full of love. Maybe then he would be able to feel a fraction of the amount of adoration you had for him and understand just how much he meant to you. 

Instead, you frowned playfully. "See what I mean?! You're too kind! It's not fair!"

Wally just laughed again.