#whatever i felt like. and none of that was art
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umblrspectrum · 2 months ago
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i think i read this in a fic on ao3 but i forgot which one
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ganondoodle · 7 days ago
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did a little sketch yesterday that i really liked and tried to get it done today just so i got literally anything to post- but i fell into the trap of 'making sketches to elaborate and thus really stiff and non fun' (for me), ... soooooo .. im redoing the whole thing
but the idea was a mummy ganondorf for my (yes still existing) totk rewrite; i wanted to make him more scary looking and also emphasize just how horrid it must be to be kept in between life and death by having your heart grabbed by a cold and vengeful magical hand for thousands of years (in this case the ancient queen .. which i also tried to sketch despite not showing up aside from her dissolving hand)
the spell starting to fail and his body being more damaged in some parts (jaw being only the bones left for example) and his chest open from being slowly eaten up by the queens magic, the ribs contorting around it like its a gravitational pull- sounds cooler than it looks bc this sketch did not work out, so im saving the details for the .. hopefully, better version
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slurpyboii · 5 months ago
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That ended exactly how I expected it to and, as expected, I am entirely neutral on it. Wasn't a satisfying ending or a super hype ending or anything like that, literally just the ending that may as well have happened. Not a single thing surprised me that whole conclusion, it felt unfortunately predictable. You can tell he's excited for it's end though so I'm happy for Horikoshi regardless, hope he can get proper rest now.
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aurosoulart · 1 year ago
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I had someone ask me about 'The World Has Been Changed' tshirts and since I took down all my merch shops here's the print file for free if you wanna print it yourself. donate to a random charity for the tax benefits if you download! or don't! go crazy go wild I don't care!!!!
also I hiked up a ridge and made a cool dragon video that's up as early access on Patreon rn. (I only have one Patreon tier and it costs $3)
ALSO also I'm hosting a Drawpile get-together in my Patreon discord tomorrow night starting at 5pm PST, so if you join to see the dragon video you are free to come to that as well. :) (once ppl join the Patreon discord I don't kick them out even if they stop being patrons btw)
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astranauticus · 1 year ago
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Do mechanites cry?
#rolling with difficulty#vrla rwd#mrsn rwd#vr la rwd#mr sn rwd#art i made#yet another thing i drew then just fully forgot to post LMAO#man i had to listen to 3.7 like 3 times for this. goddammit#easter egg: the 4 big infernal books in the shelf all say contract law like its a textbook series i guess#the small one next to them says Doctor Faustus bc i was looking to my irl bookcase for inspiration#and the christopher marlowe play was one of my alevel lit texts#also i think it would be really funny if the devils have their own version of the story of the deal with the devil guy#honestly this may have been the kinda. last straw of my burnout cuz this was a lot of time spent on a lot of stuff im really not good at#and none of it turned out... exactly how i wanted but oh well. it is what it is#ok the kinda annoying thing about me spending far too fucking long drawing super emotional scenes like this is i kinda#desensitise myself to whatever im drawing. like i felt it the most with the demon possession comic i casually tossed into the discord#bc thats the exact kinda angst i personally LOVE but it just doesnt have the same punch after ive been staring at it for 5 hours straight#(anyway go read cal's fic about it its on ao3 and its bloody good)#all this to say. when i first listened to 3.7 and austin had that exchange of like#'noir can i ask you a lore question' 'sure..?' 'do mechanites cry?'#i straight up got fuckin CHILLS. and sometimes i forget that but i try to force myself not to
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kyri45 · 6 days ago
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Not me abusing the asks to both share my love for the bioparents AU AND rant about the panels because none of my friends are in the LMK fandom and I'm suffering here so TAKE MY LOVE AND APPRECIATION ABOUT YOUR ART I guess x)
So first of all
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I am a SUCKER for that kind of leaning in frames I'm going to print that and plaster it on my wall THEY ARE EVERYTHING /hj
I almost jumped of my chair when this one popped up YOU FED US GOOD its so worth the angst train incoming. Of course the panels before and after were equally as amazing but if I start going about every single panel we're still here in three days AT THE VERY LEAST LOL
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Of course this one made me laugh like please their little faces
Using that to point out how much I love ALLLLLLL the silly faces you put in your comics I'm munching on them every single time they're crushy like chips or something just. Nom nom. Yummy.
Poor Nesha (Nesha? Nezha? Neja? I have no idea on how to write his name I already forgor LMAO) needs to be payed more. He tries to save MK and ends up dealing with two lovesick teenagers demons who have no concept of time/place/occasion apparently. Poor him. He gets a pat on the head for his troubles
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And of course just the "NOPE I'M KEEPING HIM" mode and honestly we should have seen it coming- Red son was planning to courtnap him and didn't sleep in the past 5 days so he's not having any bullshit YOU'RE NOT TAKING HIS NOODLE BOY AWAY-
Could bet he spent so long thinking about the cournapping in the 5 past days his brain just cannot process that yeah maybe you need to let him down you're just going to drag him in more troubles- Either that or he's just going full protective mode. Both options are good anyways sooooo :)
We stan a protective boyfriend in this house.
---
And finally I'm SOOOOO hyped about whatever is coming next like I know that technically we're supposed to suffer but please I climbed up the angst train so many times now I'm just enjoying it by that point lol. It'll just make the following fluff even more worth it
Also I cannot wait to see MK's plan about the contract I'm so curious I'm dying I love you boys but I really want the plot to progress you can go back to kissing later lol
Finally, thank you for creating this AU. It's stumbling randomly upon it on my tik tok fyp that dragged me into watching Lego Monkie Kid and really THANK YOU FOR THAT. It's such an amazing show I CANNOT BELIEVE I didn't discovered it sooner so really thank for having created this comic because else I could have missed LMK and that would be just saaaad
Fun fact: since I had never interacted with LMK the first time I read your comic, I for some reason thought Macaque was a female (and I probably would have thought the same of Wukong if he wasn't called... well, Wukong because I randomly stumbled upon the myth's Wikipedia page at some point in my life XD). The shock I felt when I heard Macaque for the first time in the show because his voice was soooooo not what I expected x) I'm still laughing at myself to this day
So yeah, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, and I can't wait to see what you're going to pull next :D Wish you allllll the best <3
(I can totally wait, of course, it's just a figure of speech. Take your time, I could wait forever for the next chapter)
ahaha thank you for such a lovely comment!! Glad the scene gived "MINE" vibes as I was planning ahah.
Youu're welcome! It's an honor to serve this fandom. *bows*
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vxnuslogy · 1 month ago
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— 1:43 coincidences.
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pairing: kinich x gn!reader
premise: kinich wasn't one to indulge in the creative waters of writing or english. but for a chance to know you, he'd willing jump into the ocean.
— warnings: none
— author's note: this was supposed to be for his birthday but i got lazy half way through so yeah. this is also a part 2 of 11:11 wishes and i highly recommend you read this one first!! art credits to @.n249g on twt. | 2.3k words.
— tags: @ryescapades @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!
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english—writing class to be specific—was one of kinich’s least favorite subjects in school. not to say that he didn’t appreciate books and stories, he just simply preferred the more straightforward subjects like p.e. and math. he never really could wrap his head around the ideas of using so many literary devices to make a statement sound flowery. why can’t author’s simply say that the sky was blue or that the sun has set? kinich, more often than not, found them all unnecessary.
until you, that is.
kinich met you by coincidence during one of his basketball practices. a loud shout of his name from the stands and an enthusiastic mualani made him cringe internally as his teammates wiggle their eyebrows. with a roll of his eyes, kinich drops his water bottle on the benches and readied himself for whatever mualani wanted to do. his head curiously tilted to the side when he caught sight of you. 
you and mualani were the same height, you held her bag in your arms as you scroll through your phone. kinich must have stared a bit too hard. you looked, meeting his eyes with a curious but embarrassed gaze. suddenly all the metaphorical pieces of literature he once found exasperating had an entirely new meaning as you flashed him an embarrassed smile. he found himself captivated–unable to look away even when mualani came to obscure his view of you. with a heavy breath, he tried his best to keep his attention on her words, but he ended up missing the way your lips turned upward and eyes turn into small crescents. 
it would’ve been cute, dare he say romantic, with the way you kept stealing glances at him. kinich felt a certain itch at the back of his mind to at least smile back, but he never got the chance to. not when a stray basketball flies past his head and nearly hit you all the way from the stands.
“hey! watch it!” mualani shouts. hands gripping the metal bars tightly, ready to jump down and pick a fight with the player who had nearly hit you. 
kinich stood there, baffled and perplexed about you. he found your way of tugging at mualani’s arm amusing as she yells and points an accusing finger at ororon. you shake your head with a sigh and offer him an apologetic smile when he should be the one doing that. with his own heavy sigh, kinich turned around and crossed his arms, a scolding look in his eyes as everyone avoided his gaze. 
“kinich you better put your team in place or i’ll do it myself!” the volleyball captain in the stands yelled with an angry huff. she copied kinich’s pose and narrowed down her eyes but she simply looked like an angry kitten.
kinich’s ears picked up on your airy giggle and felt the hairs on his arms rise. karma must be coming back to bite him in the ass because now, at this very moment, he wished he’d paid enough attention in english class to find a way to describe the way you captured him with just one glance.
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much his teacher’s surprise, kinich finally began to participate in english class. he would raise his hands to answer questions and when called, he’d try to answer even if he struggled. all of his classmates concluded something must have happened—you can’t really blame them for being curious, after all, kinich only took interest in very few things. 
he began to frequent the local bookstore too. drifting from one aisle to another, eyes skimming over the spines of the books he once took for granted. ironically, he found himself indulging in a newfound fascination with how words worked. a certain wish deep in the columns of his chest to find a way to describe you in the same way. that’s when kinich ceased all his skimming. ever since that day, he’s been thinking about you, more often than he should.
he knew you and mualani were close—attached to the hip with the way you grew up together. the council president would often brag about your achievements as if they were her own during breaks from meetings. mualani always had something to say about you—all ranging from nice, embarrassing, and intriguing. you also ate lunch together. kinich would always notice how mualani packs extra lunch and when the bell rings, you’re always outside the classroom. bag slinged over your shoulder, a book under your arms as you entertained yourself with your phone. 
during all of these times, kinich’s eyes will always slide over to your figure. trying to capture your mystique on paper with his rookie capabilities in writing. and for the second time, he must have stared too much because you ended up catching his stare. your eyes glossed over the opened book on his desk, the many sticky notes with messy notes, pens and highlighters matching the book cover, and how he keeps tapping his pen on his notebook. his finger’s twitched, heart lurching forward into your arms when your eyes twinkled with familiarity of his actions.
he was doing an activity for english class. and that’s when it all clicked into place. 
you flash him a smile as mualani tangled your arms together and tugged you to the direction of the cafeteria. no wonder your laugh sounded so familiar, it was the same sound he heard during english when he paid attention to everything but the lesson. the book under your arms had the same colored annotations as his and even the blue bracelet on your wrist looked familiar. you were the student sitting a few seats back from him. 
“what a coincidence,” he murmurs, shifting his attention back to the activity due tomorrow. but his mind betrayed him for the second time because instead of writing down his interpretations in the notebook, the word “beautiful” was instead jotted down. and kinich isn’t talking about the book.
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dismissal hours and kinich did not mix well. while others packed their things to go home, he stayed behind to work with the council on the bulletin board. with a thud, he dropped to the floors as the others laugh. mualani ruffled his hair and promised they’ll be quick today, which he highly doubts with the way there was paint on her face and poorly hidden paper planes made out of spare papers. he shook his head in amusement and started getting to work.
by the time the clock hit 5, everyone had bid their farewells and kinich was left alone boarding the last bus of the day. he mindlessly paid the bus fare and looked for any available seats. the grip on his school bag tightened ever so slightly when he caught sight of a familiar mop of hair and blue bracelet in one of the seats. like a sailor being captured with a siren’s song, kinich made his way to you and cleared his throat.
you look up at him with the sun in your eyes. and he wonders if you’re aware of them. “is this seat taken?” a beat of silence passed before he caught the way your eyes widened and shook your head no. kinich swore he could hear the drumming of his heart as the sun sets behind you, casting a golden glow that makes you even more captivating.
“oh no, no! not at all,” you stammer out with a crooked smile. kinich nods in thanks and sits down. this must be the awkward presence of a blooming crush the books he’s read were talking about. he wanted to bury his head in his hand in sheer embarrassment. of course he concludes he had a crush on you as you’re sitting next to him. of course he just had to be awkward as you steal glances at him every now and then, trying to think of a way to strike up a conversation.
“are you done?” you ask and kinich has never reacted to a sound so fast in his life. “with the book review i mean.” another smile, another reason for kinich’s heart to beat. he cleared his throat and looked away, muttering a soft yes under his breath. you don’t speak another word after that and kinich curses mualani for sleeping over at a friend’s house today. 
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now, kinich wasn’t one to abuse his position as a council member nor did he ask teacher’s for favors–but there’s a first for everything. with a knowing mualani behind him, he takes a shaky breath in and knocks on the faculty door to excuse his english teacher to ask to be partnered with you.
it was such a bizarre and surreal feeling. kinich was simply about to go to bed after basketball practice when mualani had decided to blow up his phone with messages and screenshots. conversations with you filled with all capital messages, numerous exclamation marks, and sobbing emojis he began to associate with you began to fill his mind as his heart started to expand. 
“ I WISH HE’D BE MY PARTNER FOR THE BIOGRAPHY PROJECT 😭 😭”
kinich never paid any attention to the project despite having more interest in class—he didn’t have any particular interest in anyone, except you. so for you to wish to have him as the subject of your written creativity, how could kinich resist? and there wasn’t any difficulty in convincing your teacher too. a poorly executed excuse of maybe having your creativity rubbing off on him was all it took for the two of you to be paired up.
when he leaves the faculty, mualani greets him with a knowing smirk, her hands behind her back as the two quietly make their way back to the never ending task that is the bulletin board. the girl made sure not to point out the excited glint in his eyes and how a smile threatened to spill from his lips when you passed by and waved at her.
“you’re such a goner,” mualani teased with a shake of her head. she only stuck out her tongue at him when kinich tried to kick her shin. but he didn’t try to deny anything, all he could think about what kind of questions he’ll ask you in the span of a month.
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“blue. you were wearing a blue bracelet when we first met and i really liked it.”
“and”
“it suits you”
“is that a weird thing to say?”
it was embarrassing how quickly kinich closed his phone and put it on silent mode. that was something so unlike him to say—even his punctuations and spacing of messages felt out of place. but could you blame him? that damn blue bracelet complimented the tone of your skin, how light seemed to bounce off it and become a magnet–begging for him to hold. 
and was it wrong of him to assume you liked green because of him? he noticed earlier this week that your gaze lingered longer whenever he wore his jersey jacket and this one hoodie xilonen gifted him. “the color reminded me of a calming walk in the forest,” you had said when he sat down in front of you as he asked why you were staring (leaving out the part of the giddy feeling he’s captured your undivided attention with just a piece of clothing. he then wonders what you’d look like if you were the one to wear it.)
could you give his poor heart a break? after all you nearly injuring yourself trying to make it to class wasn’t on his agenda for the day (but he’ll never admit how nice it felt for you to cling to him). he never meant for your fingers to brush as you picked up the papers on the floor, nor did he mean to look away so quickly—missing the way your cheeks turned pink.
kinich’s gaze flickered over to that blue bracelet again as you checked your appearance on your phone, then it moved to your bag, and like a sailor following the north star, he took it from your back and said, “let’s go to class.” his voice was quiet—dare he think shy—as he covered half of his face with a curled fist. 
you denied his offer to bail you out of a lecture from your teacher and he promptly agrees. but kinich knows, deep down in the ocean of his heart that you won’t get in trouble when he’s by your side. maybe it was the adrenaline–or maybe just you–he loved to chase. he took steps and steps in your direction to pluck a stray leaf stuck in your hair. he doesn’t miss the whiff of your perfume—woody with hints of citrus and some cinnamon in the mix.
you smell like sunshine and the partner he wants for the rest of his life.
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after the biography project, kinich finds himself sitting with you in a park after classes got canceled. you asked him to push you on the swing set and he complied without much of a fight. 
“i wish you’d be my partner for this project, and wouldn’t you know, it actually happened.”
“oh, i know.”
kinich laughs, something he does more with you, at your dumbfounded expression. the realization that mualani had snitched on you and that he went out of his way to make sure it happened like you wished for sent your cheeks ablaze. kinich loved the sight of you under the afternoon sun as he goes in front of you, on one knee like those cheesy prince charmings in stories you always gushed about.
“be my partner for life, that was my 11:11 wish today.”
if you were to ask kinich what his favorite season was, he would answer summer within a heartbeat. summer was the season when you met, the colors of the sun bathing you in all his favorite colors as you cheered him on from the stands during basketball matches with his name on your back. the many ice cream runs where you both complain about the heat, or when you drop by the council room to try and cool off because the ac is stronger. summer had you in it, but kinich wouldn’t mind experiencing the other seasons with you too.
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© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
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heartcereql · 7 months ago
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heaven is a place on earth with you
art donaldson x fem!reader || soft moments in your fresh new home
cw: smoking, minor cursing, no use of y/n (1240 words) a/n: writing about my sweet baby art during finals bc why not
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you swore you could have stayed like this forever. tangled in silky bedsheets, soft rays of light that tingled on your face, body pressed against art's. one of those moments you wished you could pause and settle in for an eternity.
the mattress was on the floor, and cardboard boxes were scattered all around your apartment. your apartment. it felt blissful to say it. a life awaited you there, between the beige and baby blue walls that screamed for another hand of paint. it was far from the ideal, but it was perfect because it was yours. art's and your world. didn't it sound so pretty?
you looked over at him. eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his head a blond mess of curls and his skin warm despite the moring breeze that slipped inside the room through the opened balcony. art looked otherworldly. he always did, in your eyes. and you felt like the luckiest woman on earth with him, because he looked at you, because he touched you, because he loved you. because he felt for you what you felt with him.
and you two were fucking living together. the thought was enough to bloom a grin on your lips. a pure, joyful smile that made you want to jump and dance all around. pressing a feather-like kiss to his temple, you sat up, careful to untangle yourself from his arms and slinging over one of his standford t-shirts.
you reached over to your bedside table- well, the brown leather suitcase on which you had left some stuff. a provisional nightstand, let's leave it at that. you took a cigarette out of the box, holding it between your lips as you grabbed the lighter and your sketchbook and pencil.
the cool air of the early morning greeted you as you stepped out onto the balcony, goosebumps appearing all over your skin. you lit the cigarette with the pink lighter art had gifted you on your fourth date, all that time ago, when you mentioned you kept losing all your lighters. it was safe to say you'd kept this one. it had fake rhinestones forming your initial on one side. you recalled thanking art with a very excited hug and an even more excited peck.
"you made it?" you had ask him, the glint in your big eyes almost matching the glimmer of the rhinestones under the streetlamp. when art nodded, you gushed, hugging him again. "it's beautiful, art, i love it."
"i'm so glad," he smiled. you looked ethereal, all the eagerness painted on your face, cheeks rosy from the cold, babbling about how sweet you found it.
"hey, do you have any more rhinestones left?" you asked.
"yeah, yeah, here," he handed you the stickers, watching you start putting some more on the other side of the lighter. "what are you-"
but he was shut as he guessed the shape of his own initial, a very shimmering 'A'. once finished, you showed it to him proudly.
you both broke into laughter, cheeks flushed and hurting from the smiles, but it didn't matter. not when you felt so safe around him. and certainly not when he pulled you in for a kiss.
taking another drag of the cigarette, you traced your fingertips against the initials on the lighter. call it luck or fate or whatever, but none of the rhinestones had ever unstuck from where you both had originally placed them.
you sat on the beach chair that you'd placed on the balcony last night, before getting trapped between art's arms and lips, and getting lost in him. tipping the ashes off of the end of the cigarette, you opened the sketchbook. it was actually another of art's little thoughtful gifts that he loved to give you, and you loved to receive.
on the first page of it was a sweet little dedication art had written.
'for my angel girl, so you can be an artist and carry me always with you (get it? because i'm ART and you're an ARTist? so funny, i know.) love you forever baby <3'
it always made you smile when you read it, and reach over to kiss him for no apparent reason, leaving him a curious, flushed mess.
on the page you were currently at, there were some seashell doodles from your last trip to the beach. art had picked them out for you, and peered through the whole process with his head resting on your shoulder. beneath the collection of seashells was a watercolor drawing of art's beautiful, dual colored eyes, and a little sketch of a couple of figs.
looking over, your eyes settled on the pastel colored laundry your neighbors in front had hanging and swaying lightly with the dawning breeze.
your traces were fast but precise. soon, the laundry was replicated under your pencil. shirts and pants and socks and even a bra. the cigarette dangled from your lip, forgotten amidst your concentration.
you were so absorbed in drawing little daisies on the socks you didn't hear the sheets rustling as art stirred awake, or his soft footsteps as he approached you. thus, when you heard his voice, you were startled for a second.
"hey, artist."
you turned to him, eyes big. the movement was so sudden the cigarette fell to the floor.
"hey, art," you smiled, setting down the sketchbook and pencil and standing up to greet him.
his hands were on your waist in no time, pulling you in for a kiss. you nuzzled your head onto the warmth of his chest, running your hands on his back.
"morning," you looked up to him. art smiled. god, that smile. it drove you crazy, made you weak at the knees. your soft fingertips drove up to trace his smile lines, trailing down to his jaw in no time.
he tucked some strand of hair behind your ears, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "were you drawing?" art asked, spinning you around so you both faced the view, his arms around your waist.
the sky was not fully blue yet; pink and purple hues shining over the horizon.
"mhm," you hummed. "i want to colour it later, will you help me?"
"of course, baby," he mumbled, pressing kisses to your cheek.
it was something silly you two did sometimes. after pouring you both some coffee (you made it for art the way he liked, as he prepared yours as he'd learnt from several coffee dates), you'd pull out some colour pencils or sharpies and paint the little doodles you had drawn.
"hey," art whispered. "we live together."
you smiled. "yeah, we do. it's perfect."
art huffed at that. "the walls are on the verge of falling apart. and the people from the bar downstairs were noisy as fuck. and the shower-"
"shut up," you playfully hit his arm, rolling around again to face him once more. "it's you and i. sounds perfect to me."
he gifted you another smile. "you're right. it's ours. that's more than enough."
was this your own personal heaven? you found yourself thinking that often, as you got lost in his always tender eyes, or the sound of your laughters together, or the tingles he left on your skin, or the way you loved each other. as he lifted you up and carried you inside for your first breakfast at your place, you were sure of the answer. yeah, of fucking course it was.
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© heartcereql, 2024 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪
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therandompagesblog · 1 month ago
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SKZ Pack Chapter 1
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Trigger Warnings: None
Weeks had gone by and it was nearly December. The wolves had changed in who they were. Jeongin became a tougher alpha and spent many weeks training to his full potential, but he also learned to be a better mate to Y/N. He was still making it up to her. Seungmin was still as cocky as ever and spent more time researching the dark side of werewolf lore in case they ended up in a tragic situation again. Felix was sensitive if not more sensitive after what happened and felt more protective of all the wolves so he offered to take part in more training, unlike Jisung who became glued to the side of Y/N. Jisung was far too in love with Y/N and loved to express that as he helped her around the house. Jisung made sure to always tell her she looked beautiful and made a point to kiss her scar first before her lips. Changbin was now on a course to look after werewolves as his sister Jaehee realised how useless Changbin was at saving his own omega. Changbin wasn't great but he could now stitch a minor cut. Minho on the other hand grew colder, he was hurting the most out of all of them. He still did his usual stuff but stayed out of debates and never gave his opinion. Him and Y/N were still not alright. They never spoke to each other unless it was a 'good morning' or a 'thank you'. Minho lost a lot of trust with Y/N and some of the others, but her words cut deep and he wasn't on the path of forgiveness yet. Hyunjin had gone back to his cold self and spent time in his art room, but still made time for Y/N.Chan had woken up but was bedridden as his ribs were still not healing but he was fine. He was pissed for the first twenty-four hours when he found out about Y/N's mission of death, but he got over it, knowing she was fine. He was happier when she came in to look after him, he appreciated her omegaing him but he knew it was tiring her out because she too was slowly healing.
Then there was Y/N she healed eventually but was still bandaged up. Spiritually she was damaged and Hyunjin's soul was trying to repair hers but it was too exhausting for him so she asked him to stop. Y/N wasn't as active as she had liked to be but still made a point to get up and see her wolves, despite Jisung being stuck to her. Not one of them had asked her about that night and it almost became a taboo subject. It was almost silently forbidden to be discussed. Y/N wanted to bring it up to apologise but when she did they would wave her off and tell her it's fine. Still, she knew Minho and Jeongin were the two she massively owed an apology to, but getting them alone was going to be harder. Minho was going to be her biggest challenge but she was going to start off strong by writing him a letter in case he refused to hear her apology and then giving him the flowers. By flowers, she meant the ones she picked from the garden and put into the vase after she turfed out the others. When Y/N came back into the kitchen she saw Minho prepping dinner. He was aware she walked into the kitchen and usually, he doesn't speak unless she speaks first. Y/N had to admit she felt incredibly nervous speaking to him and it was mainly because she hated hearing what she had done wrong. Y/N knew and understood her actions but hearing them made her slightly uncomfortable and defensive. "Minho?" Y/N called as she stood there awkwardly watching him. "Hmm?" Minho acknowledged her but did not look at her so Y/N decided he was comfortable with whatever she was going to say. "I wanted to say I'm sorry okay? Just hear me out and don't say anything. I only want you to listen." Y/N waited for him but he said nothing, making her roll her eyes. "I am sorry for not being grateful for your efforts. I know you worked hard to help and you did more than what I realised and I appreciate that. I guess I wanted to help and, anyway that's not the point. Forget that part. The main thing I wanted to apologise was for using your insecurity against you. I know it was low and I didn't mean it. I'm not good at apologies so I picked some flowers and wrote a letter of apology which I want you to read."
Y/N almost cursed herself at her botched apology. She completely messed it up but there was nothing she could do now except leave the letter on the table and leave him alone, which she did. Y/N left the kitchen and was about to head up to see Chan when Changbin entered the room in his medical clothes. Y/N greeted the beta with a gentle hug which Changbin was grateful for. Y/N knew Changbin wasn't really enjoying the hospital work and studying with his sister, he would rather be at the gym and then play his x-box. Changbin threw his bag down and kicked on his shoes while holding Y/N as he nuzzled her face against his, before pecking her lips. "Shall we go nurse Channie?" Y/N giggled as she kissed him again. "Let me unwind baby and then I'll come right up," Changbin whispered. Y/N nodded and headed up to see Chan who was idly staring up at the ceiling. It made Y/N laugh at how bored he looked. He was completely fed up with being stuck in the bedroom but his right leg was struggling to heal. "Felix said he might take my stitches out soon," Y/N said as she walked over to him and sat on his bed. Chan smiled up at her as he reached for her hand to hold. He loved it when she came to visit him. Admittedly, Chan sometimes got lonely since he was cooped up in the same four walls. "I want to tell you something and I don't want you to take it the wrong way baby. You know I love you." Chan said softly. "Oh no. Uh. Uh. Whatever it is Mr alpha I ain't doing it." Y/N answered as she bopped his nose like a child. "I'm being serious, baby," Chan said causing Y/N to frown. Why was he being so serious? "I know you are feeling incredibly anxious because you are feeling unclaimed and I know I haven't claimed you fully because I wanted to wait until you could trust me and your body was fully healed, but I know at the moment I'm not going to be in any position to do a while and I don't want you to feel unstable in my pack. We all love you, despite the conflicts we do. Which is why I had a chat with Jeongin and I want him to claim you." Chan stated. "No. Jeongin is fuming with me and besides I am completely fine. I'm not feeling anxious, or disconnected in any way. I want to wait. I want you, besides you could lay there." Y/N hinted with a smirk as she pulled his duvet cover down. Chan rolled his eyes nonchalantly. "Baby. Jeongin is over it, if anything it's Minho that's going to take a while. He accepts what you have said but he doesn't forgive easily. Besides Jeongin wants to ease your anxiety." Chan cooed. "I want you Channie to be the first. I don't care how long we have to wait for your leg to get better. Besides Seungmin can keep up." Y/N stated. "My love. What did I do to deserve you." Chan cooed, his heart swelling with pride. As much as he wanted to be the first his mark was already there and she needed to feel settled. "Ya, let's play doctors and nurses," Changbin shouted as he kicked the door open. "Fuck sake," Chan muttered.
Taglist for the iconic readers
@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 o @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim @emi-han @iknow-uknow-leeknow @jigglypuff3000 @aalexyuuuhm @reallychaoticwoo @missseoulite @ihrtlix @estella-novella @xxeiraxx
266 notes · View notes
rubytuby · 6 months ago
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winner winner
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college!art donaldson x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: none lol, just short and sweet :)
note: stanford art my beloved wow… that’s boyfriend, pookie even. also i have to say that i am a patrick girl and i'm cooking up something there for yall. let me know if you liked pleak!
As the sun beat down relentlessly on the Stanford practice court, every movement felt more grueling, the exhaustion seeping into your bones. After picking up stray balls for what seemed like the hundredth time, abandoning your racket and never looking back sounded more than enticing. Bending down to retrieve another ball, you could feel the pounding in your head, a dull throb forcing you to close your eyes. Your scalp was wet from sweat, and you could see your damp hair hanging in the corner of your eyes, clinging to your forehead as you moved. Stuffing the balls into your shorts pockets, you trudged back to the center of the court, wiping the sweat from your forehead with a sigh. 
Through half-lidded eyes, you blankly stared at hitting partner, Art Donaldson, who was looking right back at you with a big grin on his face. You cocked an eyebrow at him and shook your head impressed by his ability to look absolutely unphased by exertion. You felt another throb in your head and winced and placed your thumb and pointer finger over your eyes.
Art's grin faded, replaced by a look of concern. “Hey, you good?” he asked, stepping closer, genuinely worried for you.
You dropped your hand and waved him off, forcing a tired smile. “Yeah, yeah, just give me a sec,” you replied, though the pounding in your head was reminiscent of that one time at tennis camp when you almost got heat stroke.
Art eyed you skeptically, doubting your words. "Are you sure? You look like you might—"
"No, I can play," you interrupted him mid-sentence, your voice firm despite your fatigue. Art tilted his head to the side. "I swear I'm fine." You flashed him an exaggerated smile to prove your point.
Art’s eyebrows lifted slightly, lips curling into a subtle, amused smile. He knew you’d never call it quits, regardless of how tired you were. He then removed a ball from his pocket and held it out, shooting you a knowing look. You simply met his gaze with a blank expression. As you positioned yourself to receive the serve, he spoke with a hint of amusement in his voice, "Alright, this one's gonna be 130. Ready?"
"If you keep taunting me, I might just forget we're here to play tennis and accidentally walk back to my dorm," you joked.
"Well, you know I wouldn't mind going back to your dorm," he said with a wink.
You rolled your eyes and gave him a tight-lipped smile, bucking your head in an effort to get him to stop talking and actually serve the ball. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other and squinted against the beaming sun, silently cursing yourself for telling Art he could take whatever side of the court he wanted.
Art tossed the ball into the air and smacked the ball with his racket, you braced yourself, eyes locked on the ball's descent. With a swift motion, you swung your racket, the satisfying thwack of ball meeting strings reverberating through the air. Art effortlessly returned your hit and let out a soft grunt, initiating another rally. At this point in your practice, you had resigned yourself to serving each hit directly to Art, too tired to bother with tricking him. Art, though, seemingly wanted you to put the work in before you could call it a day. Hitting the ball just inside the front of the service box when you were way back by the center mark.
"If you wanted to win so badly, you could’ve just asked me to play nice," you remarked, words heavy with exasperation as you let the ball bounce off into the distance.
Art watched the ball roll away, silently celebrating. "Where's the fun in taking it easy?" he teased. "Maybe I wanted the challenge."
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "Yeah, yeah," you replied. "I'm sure those distracting grunts are just part of your master plan to win, right?"
Art shrugged and walked over to you, leaning against the net. "Well, they're not meant to be distracting," he retorted, a smirk on his face. "But if they're taking you out of the game, maybe you're not cut out for this."
"Oh, please, last time I checked, the WTA and ATP didn't have any categories for grunts and groans," you said, turning your back to Art as you walked back to the baseline.
Art laughed, smile widening as he prepared to serve up another ball. "Maybe they should consider adding it," he quipped as he tossed the ball into the air. 
Art served the ball with a slice. You returned it with a swift backhand, and the rally began again. Each of you fell into a rhythm, the ball bouncing back and forth across the net.
"This is match point," you called out.
"If you say so," he replied, a confident grin spreading across his face.
The rally eventually grew more intense, each exchange faster and more furious than the last. Art’s eyes glinted as he positioned himself for the next shot. Suddenly, with a fluid and powerful motion, he sent the ball rocketing toward the far corner of the court. Your eyes followed its trajectory, a split second of realization dawning on you as you scrambled to reach it. But it was too late. The ball landed just beyond your outstretched racket, bouncing twice before coming to a stop. You halted and let out a frustrated groan, a pout forming on your lips.
Art watched as you dropped your racket and flopped down onto the court, frustration evident on your face. Laughing softly to himself, he sauntered over, picking up your racket along the way.
He leaned down next to you and patted your cheek, holding your racket out with a playful grin. "Tough break, champ," he teased.
You playfully tugged the racket from his hand and stood up, sticking out your tongue. "You live for these moments, don't you?"
Art grinned mischievously and nodded. "Oh, absolutely," he replied with a laugh. As the two of you strolled toward a nearby bench, he playfully snagged your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.
"I swear to god I almost had it," you mused, shaking your head.
Art responded with mock dread, “Oh no, you lost for once, your reputation may never recover.” 
You both plopped onto the bench with a thud, limbs splayed out as you leaned back, panting heavily. The exhaustion from the intense rally was apparent in every breath you took, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
As you settled onto the bench, you placed your oversized bag on your lap and began rummaging for your water bottle. Art scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Then, after some serious searching, you unearthed your water bottle with a triumphant expression. Art feigned surprise, raising his eyebrows in mock astonishment before gently lifting your legs to rest across his lap, tracing his free hand against one of your knees. 
You brought the bottle to your lips and promptly you chugged down half of it in a couple of big gulps. Art stifled a laugh, watching you with amusement. "Thirsty?" he teased, nudging you playfully with his elbow.
You shot him a playful glare, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Shut up," you retorted, but the smile on your face betrayed your annoyance. He removed his hand from your shin and reached for your water bottle, but before he could grab it, you snaked it away from him, furrowing your brows and shaking your head.
"Nuh uh, what's the magic word?" You said, wagging your finger in his face.
Art raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to make me beg?" he teased, leaning closer to you, his face mere inches from yours.
“Maybe later,” you said, closing the gap between you two, smiling as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before handing him the water bottle.
Art grinned, taking the bottle from your hands. "Ok, now, can I please have a sip of water?"
You faked pondering for a moment. "Well, since you asked so nicely."
After taking a long drink, Art handed the bottle back to you with a smirk.
You giggled, rolling your eyes. "So, a rematch tomorrow?" you asked. "Coach says I need to work on my ‘’sloppy forehand’—whatever that means."
Art scoffed. "You? A ‘sloppy forehand’? Sounds like something he made up to get you to play harder," he teased.
"His words, not mine," you replied with a shrug.
Art leaned back against the bench, narrowing his eyes as he looked at you. "What if the loser buys dinner tomorrow?" he suggested.
You raised an eyebrow. "Is this your way of saying you’re tired of paying for me on every date?”
Art's expression softened, and he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's not that, you know I don't care," he said, voice tender. "I just thought it would be a fun incentive."
You looked off to the side and faked pondered before saying, "Alright, deal."
Art leaned in, his lips brushing against your cheek in a gentle kiss. "Just so you know," he whispered into your ear, "I'm not planning on losing."
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mins-fins · 7 months ago
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119
&&. unfortunately you aren't as slick as you thought you were.
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pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader
genre: fluffity fluff fluff fluff
warnings: sexual jokes, thats it 😚
word count: 1.2k
notes: jj spread the jeno bias disease i literally cant believe this 😭😭 hes so……….im abt to draft another long jeno fic + an smau + another stupid drabble and all of that fun stuff!! dont get it twisted jisung is still my ult though 😒 no ones ever replacing him, anyway this came from a prompt someone sent me, smth about "kissing someone on a ferris wheel" which i just LOVEEEED hello??? okay ik none of you care abt my words, love jeno, love nct dream, pray i get park jisung pcs 😇 good night now <33
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you are going to murder na jaemin.
the moment you get off this ferris wheel your throwing up your guts all over his shirt, or punching him in his face, or strangling him to death, whatever. the moment you step off this ride you're making sure he doesn't open his eyes to see the rest of his fellow human beings ever again.
maybe if you were less awkward you'd actually be thanking him, but you take one side glance at the boy beside you and want to smash your head against the glass.
jeno doesn't notice your side glance (and thank goodness he doesn't because you probably would've died if he took so much as a glance at you), he's much too busy glancing at the view from the height your at. you assume that jeno likes ferris wheels, he probably likes them more than you do.
"are you alright?"
you mentally prepare yourself for the voice crack you know might escape your lips. just talk to him like a normal human being, y/n, yeah you're into him and shit but that doesn't mean you can be a weirdo.
"yeah" you finally respond, thank goodness the voice cracks don't come out. "just feeling a little nauseous".
jeno raises an eyebrow. "scared of heights?"
you only manage a curt nod, a nod that makes jeno scoot closer to you, his lips stretching into a smile. "it's alright, i'll protect you".
fuck you lee jeno, fuck you, fuck you, fuck yo—
your somehow able to chuckle, amused by his words. "it's not like i'm dying or anything".
jeno frowns. "so you don't want my protection?"
you pretend to think about it, pressing your lips together as your eyebrows furrow, avoiding eye contact with jeno at all costs. if you look at him, your going to fall and never get up. "i wouldn't be entirely against it".
jeno's shoulder nudges yours, nothing but a small touch that drives you crazy. you wonder if the mini breakdown your having is noticeable, if maybe, he's doing it on purpose, making your heart race to get a kick out of it.
but when you think about it further, it makes you giggle, because this is lee jeno, you could get down on one knee and propose to him yet he'd still be confused by how you feel for him.
if lee jeno knew how you felt for him really, you probably wouldn't have resisted the urge to make out with him on this fucking ride or already.
that was a strange thought, a stupid one even, but it's one manifested from your deepest desires.
when you think about it, though, you wouldn't exactly mind it.
"that's good" jeno snickers at you, eyes examining your face as if it's an interesting exhibit at an art museum. "you need me".
you feign a sigh of irritation. "of course, what would i do without you?"
"you'd die, clearly" jeno replies, tilting his head and reaching over to lace your fingers with his. the cold rings on his fingers feel like glass shards against your fingers, but his soft hands contrast his stabbing rings. "isn't this sort of romantic?"
you choke on your spit.
"romantic? roma— hah! what are you talking about? what is romantic about this?"
soooo natural, y/n.
jeno simply shrugs, suddenly very interested in the view of the carnival from the ferris wheel. "were on a ferris wheel together, stars before us, just the two of us, this would be like.. the perfect date".
you blink, the words making you pause and your head spin. is he serious? is he really serious?
"is this your way of asking me out?"
you manage to ask that without sounding like a pathetic idiot who wanted to hear those exact words, and your response gets the same reaction out of jeno, flushed cheeks with an awkward chuckle accompanying the sight. you would've thought you were a genius if you weren't as flustered as he was.
jeno is speechless, and he fumbles through his speech like someone's holding him at gunpoint or something. "i— no! no! ..maybe? kinda?"
you pause, all your former confidence suddenly withering away, the blood rushing to your cheeks in full force. you laugh, taking his words as a joke, but jeno keeps silent, and so do you.
"are you serious?"
jeno can't speak, so he just nods wordlessly.
you blink, glancing from side to side, this ferris wheel won't be on the ground soon, but at least this makes it a little more bearable. "did you just confess your feelings for me like that?"
"well to be fair—"
"i was supposed to do it first!" you yell in another fit of feigned irritation, your cheeks a color reminiscent of jeno's cherry red shirt. "that's not fair! you beat me to it!"
"well how was i supposed to know you liked me back?"
you scoff, and jeno goes silent again, embarrassed by the question he just asked.
"you're such an idiot lee jeno.."
"can i kiss you?"
the question is a blurt of pure desperation, pure honesty from the deepest corners of jeno's mind, an inquiry he's been dying to ask you ever since he found himself interested in staring at your lips.
you hope you don't faint from the scorching heat radiating off your face.
"it's romantic" he laughs, his best excuse for that random inquiry. "i've always wanted to kiss someone in a ferris wheel, unless you don't want to then—"
you (in the most cliche turn of events) cut jeno off with a kiss. though you'd love to keep your fingers intertwined, you let go of his hand to find purchase on his shoulder, then tug him closer to you with a light jerk. a small squeak emits from him, but he quickly relaxes into the kiss, giggling at your enthusiasm.
though he giggles, he isn't much better off. it's nothing but a small press of the lips, it's not intense or anything, but jeno feels his heart soar. hie face heats to overwhelming heights, and he loops his arm around your waist, pressing you against him, as if the idea of not feeling every part of you would be maddening.
you both are just as desperate as each other, there's no push, just pull. it's a playful competition, your waiting for the other to pull away, stop the kiss because they need breath, it's stubborn in an idiotic way.
but jeno loses your little battle, because he pulls away for air, as red as the sunset in the early morning.
and though you laugh at the sight, you aren't much better off yourself (if the heat continuing to permeate from your face is enough).
"was that romantic enough for you?"
even with how breathless he is, jeno still manages a stupid question.
he squeals when you land a slap on his shoulder.
and while you thought you two were slick about it, considering you were like five feet in the air with nobody to see you, your equally red faces and intertwined hands were enough to get feigned vomits from your friends.
jaemin snickers as he looks between you two, and you glare as you see him open his mouth.
"so what happened up there?"
"clearly they got it on".
upon hearing the words, you let go of jeno's hand to yell and chase after lee donghyuck, who squeals and sprints away, shouting for renjun to help him.
jaemin just sends jeno a knowing look, a look that the older pretends he isn't bothered by.
for once, one of his ploys finally worked.
444 notes · View notes
parkerslatte · 1 year ago
Note
Congratulations :) 21, 48 with azriel :)
A/N: Thank you so much and thank you for your request :)
_____
Hands To Myself
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: none
Summary: At a family dinner, Y/N and Azriel can’t seem to keep their hands to themselves.
Prompts Used: 21. You can't keep your u hands off each other, even though no one knows about the two of you. 48. "You've been smiling much more recently."
3000 Follower Celebration
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
From across the dining room table, Y/N met Azriel’s hazel eyes. The eyes that she loved more than anything. From a distance, all of the colours that made up the unique colour blurred together but Y/N knew all of the different shades of browns, grey’s and the small flecks of green. Looking into Azriel’s eyes was Y/N’s own personal work of art that Feyre could never quite capture accurately. They were so unique to him.
Y/N watched Azriel raise his fork to his mouth, clearly trying to fight off the smile trying to break out on his face. Even though she knew that it was a bad idea, Y/N smiled in Azriel’s direction. There was a lot to love and admire about the shadowsinger but the one thing that stood out amongst the rest was his smile. It was what drew Y/N in in the first place.
At first it was those small smiles he would only offer to people he barely knew as a greeting. Then it progressed to his smiles of comfort, and Y/N had been on the receiving end of one too many of those smiles. However it wasn’t long before those smiles of comfort transitioned to the smallest of smiles where a sliver of Azriel’s teeth were visible. Those were the smiles that his family usually bore witness to. Those were the smiles when Azriel was most at ease. 
However, as they grew closer and closer, Y/N began to notice Azriel’s smiles begging to get larger and larger. Showing off his one dimple on his left cheek. And it didn’t take Y/N long to notice that those smiles were reserved strictly for her. 
Y/N found herself smiling down at her food as she cut into a potato. Underneath the table, she stretched her legs out until she brushed against Azriel’s foot. Touch he didn’t react visibly, Y/N felt the slight brush of his leg against hers. Y/N glanced up and met Azriel’s eyes once more. All she wanted was to abandon dinner completely and drag him all the way back to her apartment on the outskirts of Velaris. 
But, alas, that was not an option. 
Y/N and Azriel had only been together for a little over five months but they had known each other nearly two years, ever since Y/N had been brought in to help Feyre with her pregnancy. Of course two years was nothing compared to both of their considerable lifetimes, but to both Y/N and Azriel, it was like they had known each other their whole lives. 
Soon after Y/N took Azriel out on a date, the two both agreed to keep their relationship private. Not because of what the rest of the Inner Circle would say, but because they both simply preferred their privacy and they knew that if the rest of the Inner Circle knew, it would only mean relentless teasing. 
At first it was easy to keep their relationship private but as soon as it began to get more serious and the attachment grew, it was harder and harder to keep their hands off one another.
After dinner, the group headed into the living room to relax in a more comfortable environment. As they all walked the short distance to the living room, Y/N and Azriel hung back, his arm caressing her lower back. Goosebumps immediately spread across Y/N’s body. She had wanted to feel his touch all night and now that she finally did, she craved more. 
“I can’t wait to drag you back to my apartment,” Y/N muttered, her hand wrapping around his. 
Azriel bent down so his lips grazed her ear. “And do what?”
Y/N tilted her gaze to look at him, her eyes meeting his. “Whatever you want.”
That beautiful smile lit up his face as his grip on her tightened the smallest amount. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
Y/N glanced to where everyone had disappeared in the living room, the hallway was empty. “Well there’s no one out here right now.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Azriel’s lips were on hers as he pressed her against the wall. Y/N sighed in content as she parted her lips and just let Azriel devour her. From hours of being deprived of his touch, all of Y/N’s senses were heightened and she could already feel herself becoming putty in Azriel’s arms to shape and mould however he wanted and she would allow him. Her fingers threaded in his hair and pulled him even closer. Azriel obliged and wrapped his strong arms around her body and pressed her against his. One arm was around her waist while the other gently cradled the back of her head so she wouldn’t bang it against the wall. 
The feeling of being in Azriel’s arms was like no other. Of course Y/N had had her fair share of lovers in the past but none had been as attentive and caring as Azriel. He had waited over five hundred years for a love like Y/N and now that he finally had it, there was no chance he would ever let it go. Y/N savoured every touch, every word of affirmation, every single moment they spent together. She savoured them all. Of course she knew that there would be many more to come but that was just how it was with them, the amount of love shared between the two was unlike any other either of them had experienced before. They were each other’s salvation. 
“Come on you two!” Cassian’s voice chimed from the living room. “We have Rhys’s good wine!”
Y/N and Azriel pulled away from one another and Azriel reluctantly stepped back. “We should go, before they get suspicious.”
“Yes we should,” Y/N agreed.
Neither of them made a move for the living room. Y/N simply chuckled as she leant up and pecked Azriel’s cheek. “Come on, or we never will.”
Azriel followed, his hand clasped in Y/N’s but as soon as they were outside of the living room door he dropped it. Y/N immediately felt the warmth of his hand disappear and she sighed. 
“There you two are,” Cassian exclaimed. “I was about to search for you.”
Azriel simply rolled his eyes and took a seat on the couch and Y/N followed, squeezing herself in the only available spot next to him. Her whole side was pressed against his. Y/N wasn’t sure that this was a particularly good idea as all she wanted to do was curl up to his side. As hard as it was, she refrained herself. 
Y/N tilted her head to look at Azriel and he sent her a smile. Y/N returned it. 
***
The alcohol had hit everyone and Y/N had found herself with her back against the arm of the couch while her legs were draped over Azriel’s lap. She was on her fourth glass of wine and the only thing she could think of was the male she loved so dearly. His hand rested on her shin and his thumb traced patterns upon the soft skin. Of course when she and Azriel were more sober, they had refrained from any touching that wasn’t necessary, but now that had gone out of the window. Y/N wasn’t even entirely sure that Azriel realised what he was doing. 
While Y/N sipped on her glass of wine, she threw her head back and laughed at something Cassian had said. The grip on her shin slowly rose until it rested just above her knee and Y/N felt like her body was on fire. She was just glad that everyone else was affected by the wine as she hoped that none of them even noticed. 
“What about you, Az?” Rhys said.
Azriel tore his gaze away from Y/N for a brief moment to look at his brother. “What about me?”
“You’ve been smiling much more recently,” Rhys said, his arm tightening around Feyre’s shoulders. “Care to tell us the reason why?”
Azriel shrugged, though his grip on Y/N’s thigh tightened. Y/N knew that she should move position, maybe sit away from Azriel but his touch was simply addicting.
“I don’t know,” Azriel answered, looking around at the rest of his family, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a second longer. “I’m surrounded by my family.”
Cassian laughed, throwing his head back. “We should get you drunk more often, you turn into much more of a sap.”
Azriel glared at Cassian before his hand travelled higher on Y/N’s thigh. 
“Oh, Cass, leave him alone,” Y/N said, laughing. “It’s not his fault that he loves us all so much that he smiles when he thinks about it.”
Azriel looked at Y/N and tried to fight the smile but failed miserably. 
“See? He’s doing it now,” Y/N said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 
Y/N wasn’t sure exactly what came over her as everything about their position was not subtle. Somehow throughout the duration of the conversation she had found herself sitting on Azriel’s lap and one of his arms was wrapped around her tightly holding onto her hip. She wished she had never drunk as much as she did, maybe then she would have more self control. 
It seemed as if Azriel didn’t care as he only looked at her, nothing but love in his eyes. There was a smile on his face though not the one only she was allowed to see. This was different, it was one Y/N had never seen before and she wished to see again. This smile communicated so much in such a smile gesture. I love you, the smile seemed to say.
Those three words had never been exchanged between the two, of course they both loved each other but neither had said it yet. Saying it made everything real and even though both Y/N and Azriel were very sure that the only thing they wanted was each other, it was still scary. 
Y/N found herself leaning closer to Azriel. She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to press her lips against his and utter those three simple words they held so much weight. But she couldn’t, not with everyone around. 
Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away and Azriel pulled her closer, unable to keep his hand off her. The desire for him gradually rose the more he touched her. Even when he conversed with Cassian and Nesta and Y/N conversed with Elain and Lucien, she was hyper aware of the places Azriel was touching on her body. She needed him desperately. And from the way Azriel was gripping onto her, he clearly felt the same. 
As soon as Azriel’s attention was back on her, Y/N leant down to whisper in his ear. “Let’s go home.”
Azriel looked into Y/N’s eyes and that one look held the same three words his smile did and he knew in that moment that he needed to leave with her in his arms.
Y/N finished the final sip of her wine before slipping from Azriel’s lap. “I’m going to head home, I’m quite tired and I’m meant to be at work early in the morning.”
“I can walk her home,” Azriel offered almost immediately, rising to his feet. Y/N smiled up at him before bidding goodbye to everyone.
As soon as they left the room and were safely around the corner, Y/N gripped onto Azriel’s hand and as soon as they were in the cool night air, she tugged him down and pressed her lips against his. 
“I love you,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck. 
Azriel smiled, the one smile Y/N had fallen in love with. “I love you too.”
Y/N sighed in content as she rested her forehead against his. “I am going to love hearing that every day.”
Azriel didn’t respond as he captured her lips once more in a short and sweet kiss before wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let’s go home, my love.”
Y/N smiled and happily walked home with Azriel, her heart bursting with love.
***
As soon as the group heard the front door close, Cassian turned to the rest of the group. “For the spymaster of the Night Court, he is not very subtle.”
“Did you see Y/N?” Nesta said. “She was practically undressing him with her eyes at dinner.”
“How long do you think they’ve been together?” Elain asked. 
Rhys leaned back on the couch. “I can tell you exactly how long they’ve been together.”
“Oh yeah?” Nesta challenged. “And how long exactly, Rhysand?”
“A little over five months,” Rhys replied. “Az was late for a meeting with me and when he finally arrived over an hour later, I had never seen him smile as much as he did.”
A soft smile made its way onto Feyre’s face. “I always had a feeling ever since they met. They just click.”
Rhys smiled at his mate. “I’m sure they are mates, the bond hasn’t seemed to snap just yet.”
“And you are so sure of that?” Feyre questioned.
Rhys nodded. “I am, because he looks at her like she holds the world in the palm of her hands. And that Feyre, darling, is exactly how I looked at you.”
Feyre smiled and pressed her lips against Rhys’s in a quick but soft kiss. “I’m glad, they both deserve all of the love in the world.”
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darksigns-exe · 2 months ago
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whatever a sun will always sing is you - noah sebastian x f!reader
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warnings: none
word count: 2.1k
note: birthday fic for our birthday boy <3 title comes from the poem i carry your heart with me by e.e. cummings
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Noah’s relationship with birthdays is tricky. 
Not just because he doesn’t like big celebrations, he’s also impossible to gift to. Instead of agonising over which art book you’d give him this year, you’ve decided to do something different. While he has scaled down his work schedule quite a bit, you can still tell that he’s so very restless. 
You watch him pace around your living room, while he talks to god knows who on the phone. 
You know that forcing Noah to slow down doesn’t work, you’d tried that and in the end all it had brought you was an argument so bad that you thought that you’d ruined it all. Instead, you’ll bribe him into a slow day. 
Over the weeks leading up to his birthday you’d gathered all sorts of things including bath bombs, facemasks and a brand-new sweater for Noah that you had discovered while you were out shopping. It felt so nice and soft that you simply couldn’t leave it in the store.
When the day finally rolls around, you get up before he does. As a first order of business, you turn off his alarm, before getting a few more things into order. You slip back into bed with him, fitting yourself against his side again. Noah is deep enough of a sleeper for him to remain entirely oblivious. You allow yourself to doze off for a little while longer. 
Eventually, Noah stirs next to you. He shifts and moves, stretches like he always does before he lets out a yawn that almost deafens you. You’d previously joked that he was already making dad noises, when you’re nowhere near that step in your relationship. 
You sit up next to him, trailing your fingers across his skin.
He blinks up at you, still looking rather sleepy. His lips turn up in a soft smile. 
You lean down to kiss him. Noah’s hand curls around the back of your neck, keeping you close to him. You stay close to him when you part. 
“Happy birthday, baby.” 
For a second you think that he’ll roll his eyes as he does so often. Instead, he gives you that pretty smile of his. 
“Thank you, my love.” 
He pulls you down for another kiss. 
“You have the day off today.” You inform him, “And that’s not a suggestion.” 
“Yes, Ma’am.” he lifts his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. 
“Good.” you press another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Two options. We can go out for breakfast or we stay in.” 
He thinks for a moment, “What’s the out option?” 
“I found a cute place in Santa Monica. I’ve booked us a table, but I can always cancel it.” 
You show him the menu and Noah scrolls through the page for a moment. 
“Does sound really nice.” he still sounds as if he’s trying to make up his mind. 
“We still have a bit of time.” you reply, settling back down next to him, “Just in case it helps you decide, I have made a loose reservation for dinner.” 
You end up having breakfast at home. Noah hovers behind you the entire time – or at least until you banish him to the counter. But even then he keeps finding reasons for you to come over to him. 
After breakfast, you find yourself on your knees for him. It’s as much for you as it is for him. You take your time with him, savouring the different sensation that come with this. You try your best to replicate the devotion Noah showers you with when he’s between your thighs. And judging from the sighs he lets out, you’re doing a pretty good job. You’re pulled up into his arms afterwards. 
For a while you rest like this, curled together, just enjoying the others' presence. Conversation is light, but comfortable. 
It’s nice to just have a day to yourself with him. 
Your fingers trace across the bare skin of his chest. Noah lets out a breathy laugh when your fingers brush against his side. You let yourself soak in his presence for a little while longer, before you decide that it’s time for the next step of your plan. 
You sit up enough for you to be able to look at him. Noah’s hand remains on your side, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. 
“Thought we could have a little self-care day. You always say that you want to join in when I do this, so I planned a little day for you.” 
His eyes soften then, “I don’t know what to say.” 
“You’re good. I’m more than happy to do this.” you place your hand against the side of his face, tracing your thumb across his skin, “Have to treat my boy right, don’t I?”
You swear that his cheeks turn a little pink then. 
“You work so hard, and I just want you to know how proud I am of you. You rarely ever let me do things for you, so I’m forcing you.” you say with a smile that he reciprocates so easily. 
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you – or this.” 
You know that, by now, he’s saying it in jest. 
“You just do. Accept it. You’re not getting rid of me, and that means that you’ll have to live with me doing nice things for you.” 
Noah lets out a dramatic sigh, “Horrible fate. I don’t know if I can do that.” You lean in to kiss him again, “You’re so brave.” another kiss, “I’m gonna pop upstairs for a moment, okay? I’ll come and get you.” 
Noah’s hand remains on your body for as long as possible. He looks after you with a soft smile playing on his lips, and it makes your heart beat a little bit faster. 
You try to be quick with your preparations. You’ve already placed towels in the dryer and made sure that you have everything you need tucked away in a cupboard. To create a real spa experience you’ve loaded the diffuser with eucalyptus oil. The speaker you’ve placed on the counter fills the room with soft music and with the mostly dimmed light your bathroom feels rather cosy. Once you’ve started to fill the tub with water, you head back to where Noah is waiting for you. 
He’s typing away at his phone, smiling to himself when you enter the living room. He looks up when you sit down next to him. 
“Nick texted.” he announces, before turning his phone towards you. 
The happy birthday text is accompanied by a photo of Nick’s cats. The little party hat he put on Jerry doesn’t incite too much excitement in the cat, but it does look rather adorable. 
“That’s cute. Tell him I said hi.” you drop your head against his shoulder, “You wanna come upstairs with me?”
Noah leaves his phone on the coffee table when he gets up to follow you. His hand finds yours before you reach the stairs. You love how affectionate he is when it’s just the two of you. He’s slowly thawing, allowing himself to be affectionate with you when you’re around other people. He’ll reach for your hand when his chest starts to feel too tight, finding comfort in the way you squeeze his hand. 
You lead him into the now steam filled bathroom. 
Between all of the things you’ve just added and the plants that already were in your bathroom, it’s feeling rather comfy. 
Noah wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his chest against your back. He presses a kiss to your shoulder. 
“I don’t know when I have taken a bath for the last time.” he says quietly. 
“I know.” you drop your head against his chest, “I got a bunch of bath bombs too. Bath salts, whatever you want. Bubbles.” 
You’ve arranged the various products in a little woven basket. Noah inspects it so carefully, picking up different things to smell them. You think that he almost looks a little timid, unsure what to do with the array of things in front of him. He eventually settles on the cloth wrapped bath oil you’d already loved in the store. 
“How does this work? Do I just drop it in?” he asks still sounding a little hesitant. 
It takes him a long moment to really relax when you’re finally in the tub. After a little bit of re-arranging you had managed to convince him to sit in front of you. Eventually, he allows himself to rest against your properly. His head drops back against your shoulder, while you run your fingers through his damp hair. Your other hand rests, entangled with his, on his belly. You tell him about some insignificant gossip from your friend group, about the call you had with your cousin a few days ago and their new puppy. Noah’s laugh rumbles through your body when you tell him about the puppy chewing up the shoes of your cousins partner. A partner neither of you really like. 
When the water starts to cool too much, you ask him to get his hair wet. Noah gives you a perplexed look in response. 
“It’s a bit easier to wash hair when it’s wet, no?” 
He’s a little reluctant to actually let you do it. The only other time he’d let you take care of him like this, he’d been sick as a dog. To make things easier for yourself, you’d climbed out of the tub and sat on the edge of it, wrapped up in your robe. The somewhat stiff posture of his back has eased up a little, and you think that he actually enjoys the affection you shower him with. You gently tilt his head back a little, allowing you to swipe a drop of suds away from his forehead. Noah blinks up at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. You lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 
“Almost done.” you announce, “Just have to rinse this.”
You usher him into your shared bedroom a while later. When you’d gone to fetch the warmed towels from the dryer, you’d placed the new sweater you bought for him on the bed. 
Noah doesn’t even notice it at first. 
Only when the wrapping paper crinkles under his back, does he sit up again to investigate. 
“What’s that?” 
“Present. For the birthday boy.” You crowd into the space in front of him, coming to stand between his thighs, “Go on. Open it.”
“You already did so much.”
“Noah, we had a bath, and you let me put moisturiser on your face, that’s not a lot.” you say, placing your hands on his shoulders. 
He carefully picks at the tape keeping the paper together. You’ve never seen him tear into wrapping paper, and it always seems as if he’s savouring the moment of unwrapping it as much as he does the present itself. 
“I saw it in a store while I was out getting stuff for today and it just looked so comfy.” you explain while he unfolds the sweater. 
It’s a nice deep blue, but the selling point had been the soft fabric. Sure the price tag had made almost made you reconsider, but your boy deserves only the best. 
He examines it with an adorably focused face. 
“Thank you, my love. I love it.” 
You bring a hand to the side of his face, allowing you to gentle steer him closer to you. You meet him in a soft kiss. Noah lingers with you for a bit longer, letting both of you bathe in this moment. 
When he eventually lets himself drop back onto the bed, you follow, fitting yourself against him so comfortably. You have one thigh draped across his and an arm thrown across his chest. His skin is so warm and soft beneath your palm, and you can’t stop yourself from kissing every inch of him that is within reach. 
Noah lets out a sigh, “Thank you for all of this.”
“Of course.” you place another kiss against his chest, “Doesn’t have to stay a special occasion thing, you know? You’re more than welcome to join in.” 
“Maybe I will.” he hums out in response, “Felt kinda nice to be taken care of like that.” 
“Good because you deserve it.” You shift until you can look at him, “This and so much more.” 
You swear that there’s a little bit of damp gathering in his eyes, but he quickly blinks it away again. 
“I love you so much.” he says eventually, bringing you somehow even closer to him. 
“And I love you.” 
Hours later, you decide to skip out on the dinner reservation. You still have store-brought pizza dough in the fridge and every thing else you need to make dinner at home. And if you’re honest with yourself, you’d much rather spend the rest of the day tangled up with him in your own home than anywhere else. And the content smile on Noah’s face more than enough proof for you. 
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shouyuus · 1 month ago
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colorimetery
kuroo; 1,843 words; fluff, lapslock, no "y/n", abuse of extended metaphors, none of this makes sense, kenma is the most in-touch person in this entire fic and that should tell you something, awk!kuroo, whipped!kuroo
summary: in which kuroo is down bad for you and nothing much else happens
a/n: @seiwas this is for u! u asked for kuroo and i humbly deliver :) hope u liked it bby; fun fact, a lot of these colors are pulled from the gamblin oil paints website bc i love their paints and also i love the thought that a lot of pigments were poisonous way back when and ppl were just... casually poisoning themselves while making their art; there's a metaphor in there somewhere... but i'll leave that up to interpretation lol
─── 鉄朗 THERE ARE COLORS he doesn’t know the names for, just like there are birds who will sing songs that no human will ever understand, but somewhere between the viridian of a sun-lit forest and the minor trill of a mockingbird’s call, he finds the shape of you.
and he doesn’t remember exactly when he’d started feeling like this, only that he’d woken up one day to a pastel sky, heard the tell-tale blip of a message from you, and felt his entire body flush vermillion, hard enough to poison.
c’mon, bedhead. time for school.
he grins down at the message, his lips pulling wide, his fingers still blunted by his honeyed dreams (how many of you? don’t ask him — he’s long since lost count) as he types out a reply.
be there in three.
he stumbles out of bed in the raw sienna sunrise, pulling on his uniform pants, shoving the hems of his un-ironed white shirt into the waistband before dashing out the door. he finds you haloed in liquid gold, standing on his doorstep, flicking through your phone before you notice him and your face breaks into an earth-rending smile.
kuroo feels dizzy, punchdrunk, a sake-shot of fire sizzling down his front till it pools in the base of his belly as he pulls on his shoes and tries to hide behind a well-timed cough.
“c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he brushes passed you, but not before reaching out to ruffle at your hair, savoring in the midnight-soft of your tresses as it slips through his fingers.
you bicker the entire way to school, picking up kenma somewhere along the way. he casts you both a tired, reproachful look before slouching off ahead of you, content to resume whatever game he’s currently hyperfixating on while you and kuroo snipe at each other a few steps behind him.
“you could just ask her out,” kenma says during free period, his eyes never leaving his phone screen as he mashes at the attack button, watching the health bar of the boss monster dwindle even as kuroo makes an indignant sort of choking noise.
“w-what? she’s just — she’s just a friend.”
but at the scathing look kenma darts his way, kuroo finally relents.
“i — we’ve been friends for so long i just… i don’t wanna fuck it up, y’know?” he cards a hand through his already mussed up hair, eliciting a string of giggles from a cluster of girls sitting behind them, heads bent in towards one another, their long hair swishing like willow branches in a mid-autumn breeze; but neither of them take notice.
kenma heaves a world-weary sigh, grimacing as a large WIN!! image flashes across the face of his phone and he slumps back to frown at kuroo.
“i feel like you’ve built up enough affection points to unlock whatever good ending she’s got for you by now, so,” he pins kuroo with a pointed look, “i don’t think she’s gonna say no.”
kuroo can only blink, his mind churning around this strange yet apt analogy.
“aw man, you’re the best, y’know that?” he laughs, reaching over to catch kenma in a headlock, digging his knuckles into the crown of kenma’s head even as he struggles fruitlessly to get free.
it is in the cadium orange glow of sunset, after your art class and his volleyball practice, that kuroo finally works up the courage —
“hey uh — can i ask you something?”
you hike an eyebrow, a dangerous grin sharpening the shape of your lips.
“didn’t you just?”
kuroo lets out a frustrated sigh, “fuck you, you know what i meant.”
you laugh, the timber of it ringing through him like church bells on a sunday morning, and suddenly, he wonders if this feeling might be what inspired the ancients to worship at the feet of so much divinity — just this, the giddiness and anticipation, the knowledge and uncertainty. this, the insurmountable weight of something (call it love or infatuation, he doesn’t care) pressing down on his chest hard enough to rob him of every last breath.
he think that perhaps this is all anyone’s ever needed to start believing in magic.
“okay, okay,” you say, stifling a grin behind pink-pursed lips, “what did you wanna ask?”
“go out with me,” kuroo blurts out, well before he can stop himself. and he almost wants to sink into the earth with the way his entire body goes hot, the aftermath of a tectonic shift, the pluming heat of a volcanic hiccup.
you stare up at him, your expression curiously blank as he watches you, desperate for any sign of your answer, the most minuscule tells of how you might be feeling.
finally, you cock your head and ask, “was… there a question in there somewhere?”
kuroo almost swears*. almost*.
“fuck — fine! i meant — will you —”
“yes.”
“— it’s just i’ve — wait, what?” kuroo freezes, staring down at you with slack-jawed disbelief, blinking as if he doesn’t quite understand what you’re saying.
you allow yourself a smile, and kuroo feels his insides melt to something very much like molten marshmallows.
you let out a sigh that sounds remarkably like kenma’s — exasperated and amused in equal measure — before glancing back up at him with a bashful smile.
internally, kuroo wonders if this is what being “k.o-ed” feels like and he resolves to be just a bit more merciful to all of videogame opponents.
“i said yes, you big volleyball-obsessed oaf —”
“oh,” kuroo says, still not quite sure what he’s supposed to do from here.
you roll your eyes and turn back towards the sidewalk, taking a few steps before twisting your head to look at him.
“aren’t you gonna walk me home?”
kuroo nearly trips in his eagerness to level himself with you, but once he does, he straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest.
“so —” he says, in a stab at his usual carefree bravado, “do i get to call you my girlfriend now?”
you shrug, “sure, if you want to.”
kuroo deflates ever so slightly, “what? you don’t want me to?”
you slant him a look that makes his knees turn to jelly.
“yeah, i do. but that won’t matter if you don’t, right?”
“i — i do!”
“so then…”
you turn your back on him again, though he’s sure this time he catches it — the dash of sweet magenta, swept across your lips like a kiss, or a promise.
or, the thought licks up the back of his throat, tantalizing — the promise of a kiss.
“oi.” he jogs to catch up with you, reaching out to sling an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to press his lips into the thick of your hair, breathing you in, losing himself in the familiar smell of your shampoo — green tea and apples, or something of the sort.
you laugh, and he basks in the sound.
by the time he walks you home, the street is gilded in goldenrod yellow, your shadows stretching long beneath you, the slant-wise light painting everything in an ethereal glow.
“well,” kuroo says, shoving his hands into his pockets, if only to keep them from fidgeting, because guys like him don’t get nervous. at least, not like this.
“well,” you echo, letting your voice linger over the ‘l’, letting it twist around your tongue, the sound lulling at the top of your palette till kuroo feels his stomach catch.
“see you tomorrow?” he asks, cursing himself internally for sounding so uncertain. since when has he been so uncertain?
your lips twist into a tease, just a fish-tail flicker, and kuroo knows he’s done for.
“do you wanna stay for dinner?” you ask, just as he opens his mouth.
“unless you don’t —” his voice jerks into an abortive breath.
somewhere behind him, a raven fluffs out it’s feathers on the low-cut wall that separates your house from the rest of the street. a single black feathers flutters to the ground, dark as an oil spill.
“unless i don’t what?” you ask.
kuroo swallows around his thundering heartbeat, feeling the last dregs of sunlight seep from the far horizon.
“i was gonna say… unless you — you didn’t wanna say goodbye,” he admits, his eyes flicking away from your face if only to give himself a momentary reprieve from the intensity of your gaze.
you purse your lips, shrugging up a shoulder, a single lock of hair slipping from its place behind your ear.
“i never do. c’mon — or else they’ll start eating without us.”
kuroo is speechless as he watches you make your way up the shallow steps to your door, glancing over your shoulder towards him. he doesn’t know how many times he’s stayed over for dinner, how many times he’d lingered in the perfumed warmth of your room while you showered, flipping absently through the latest volume of jump, how many times you’d fallen asleep with your damp hair slowly soaking into his school uniform.
he couldn’t count them all if he wanted to. and he doesn’t really want to.
he takes a breath and takes the front path two steps at a time, leaping up the staircase with a smirk as he skims his palm along the top of your head. you make a sound like an annoyed hamster and kuroo allows himself a laugh that bubbles up and up and up till it’s spilling over, till he pushes open your front door and is greeted with the familiar sandalwood radiance of your front hallway, the light pooling around his ankles as he toes off his shoes.
“hey,” you say, and he turns around, only to find you leaning up on tip toe to brush your lips against his.
he freezes, but you’re pulling back already, shrugging off your coat, shouldering off your school bag and shouting down the hallway to ask what’s for dinner, and to say that kuroo’s here.
kuroo finds himself caught in the sharp cerulean blue of your laughter like the rain-washed sky, the smoke-ridden darkness in the shades of your eyes, he turns to see you blushing, even as you motion for him to follow you into the dining room. he does, only tripping over himself once (though he’s been feeling wobbly since this afternoon, when he’d resolved to ask you out in the first place).
and he tells himself that, yes, there will always be colors he doesn’t know the names of, bird songs he will never be able to understand. but colors, he can learn. and as for the birds — well, he figures that they’re all probably singing about falling in love anyway.
TAGLIST: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @dira333 @stunies @phroggii @fennecnco @encrytpta @simpingdailyforthem @ryescapades -- join the taglist!
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aklaustaleteller · 8 months ago
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On One Condition
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Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...
Warnings - none, really.
Word Count - 1.4k
Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!
So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!
Update: You can now read part two here!
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She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.
He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.
And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.
"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.
Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.
"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.
Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.
She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.
"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.
"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.
"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.
"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.
Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.
Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.
After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.
Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.
She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.
Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"
Klaus.
"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.
With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.
"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.
"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."
"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.
Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."
Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.
"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.
"What is it, love?"
"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.
Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.
"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.
"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.
"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.
"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"
Sitting stiffly, she nodded.
"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"
"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."
Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.
"And that is?"
"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.
"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.
"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.
"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.
"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.
He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.
"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour. 
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chaengluva · 20 days ago
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Nerd! Loser! Ellie Williams x Fem! Popular! Reader
WC: 1.6k (sorry it’s short, I’ll make the next ones longer)
Warnings: None
Part 1: Prev/Next
Let me know it you wanna be in the taglist!
The school buzzed with its usual chaotic energy—students laughing, lockers slamming, and shoes squeaking against polished floors.
For Ellie Williams, it was sensory overload, a daily reminder of how much she despised high school. She kept her head down as she weaved through the bustling hallway, her headphones perched securely on her head, though no music played.
They weren’t for entertainment; they were for survival, a barrier between her and the world she tried so hard to avoid.
Ellie stopped at her locker, tugging at the handle with her hoodie-covered hands.
Her textbooks were lined up like soldiers, each black cover marked with a tiny sticker: red for maths, blue for physics, green for history.
Ellie loved organization, and she hated bright colors, so this system was her perfect balance. She grabbed the books she needed, carefully closed her locker, and slipped her hands back into her pockets.
Maths, physics, and history made up the start of her day, and while most people would find that lineup miserable,
Ellie didn’t mind. She liked the logic of it, the predictability. There was no guessing, no group work, just numbers, facts, and dates. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel the pressure, though.
An upcoming maths exam loomed over her, and the constant chatter from her classmates made it hard to concentrate.
Ellie clenched her jaw, her pencil tapping rhythmically against the desk as she tried to block out the noise. She had to focus—she couldn’t afford to miss anything if she wanted to get into a good university.
Art was her true escape, though. Later in the day, when she could finally swap equations and historical timelines for her sketchbook, Ellie felt the tension ease from her shoulders.
She loved sketching more than anything else. It was her way of expressing what she couldn’t say, of creating worlds far removed from her own.
Meanwhile, across the school, your day was starting very differently. You strolled into the building a full thirty minutes late, your heels clicking confidently against the tile floor. You were the complete opposite of Ellie—where she avoided attention, you thrived in it. Ellie dressed in dull, baggy clothes, while you dressed in pinks and mini skirts.
Walking next to your best friend, Olivia, you laughed loudly, drawing the stares and whispers of your peers as if you didn’t notice. But you noticed. You always noticed.
“I don’t understand why Jake even tried hitting on you,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I mean, you’re so out of his league it’s embarrassing.”
You giggled, brushing her comment off with a playful shrug. “Oh, don’t be mean. He’s sweet… in his own way.”
“Sweet doesn’t make him your type,” Olivia said, raising an eyebrow.
You just smiled, dodging the conversation as you reached your locker. Unlike Ellie’s, yours was a chaotic mess of papers, pens, and random odds and ends. You grabbed whatever notebook and pen were closest, not bothering to check if they were the right ones for your next class. Organization wasn’t exactly your strong suit.
“Anyway, I’ll see you later,” you said, waving Olivia off as you made your way to the gym for PE. You didn’t bother changing; your teacher had long given up trying to get you to participate.
Instead, you sat on the bleachers, scrolling through TikTok, sending snaps, and texting your friends about weekend plans.
The attention didn’t faze you. You were used to the way people’s heads turned at the sound of your heels, the way their conversations paused briefly as you passed by.
Back in maths, Ellie was growing more agitated by the minute. The constant chatter of her classmates made it nearly impossible to focus on the teacher’s explanations.
Her hands clenched into fists under the desk, her mind racing with formulas and deadlines. The bell rang, and Ellie shot out of her seat, meticulously gathering her things and heading straight to her next class.
You walked out of the gym and your head quickly shot to the side quickly when you saw Ellie rushing to get to class, it made you giggle as you shook your head, mumbling “Nerd.”
The two of you had passed each other in the hallway before, maybe even brushed shoulders once or twice, but neither of you had ever really noticed the other.
Your next class went by really quickly, now you have history, you slowly walked to history because you really didn’t feel like showing up, but you knew you had to.
When you walked into the classroom, your eyes went straight to Ellie, she was sitting at the front of the classroom, she was sitting up straight and listening carefully to what the teacher was saying, you rolled your eyes and shoved past her and sat at the back of the room, putting your headphones in and ignoring the teacher.
“For the next 3 months, you will be working on a project with a partner, the two of you will choose an historical event and make a physical poster and a presentation,” The teacher exclaims, the students roll their eyes and already plan who they want to be with.
The teacher interrupted them with something all students hated hearing, “I will be assigning your partners.”
Louder groans were heard, and everyone rolled their eyes as the teacher began to list out names. “Dina and James, Vanessa and Lily, Emma and Olivie, Kai and Mike, Ellie and Y/n.” The teacher announced and everyone started moving to be with their partner.
Ellie slowly walks towards you, and sits next to you, but your head doesn’t move, she coughs to try and get your attention but you still don’t move, so she slowly moves your hand to tap your hand on the shoulder.
You take your airpod out and roll your eyes, when you make eye contact with ellie. “Umm, what?” you ask, Ellie fiddles with her thumb and index finger, looking down shyly, “we are partners for our project..”
You take your other airpod out and put it in the case, not saying anything to Ellie, she sighs saying, “look, I really need a good mark, I can do all the work if you want me to.”
You look at Ellie with an annoyed expression, “You think I can’t do it?” You ask, Ellie quickly shakes her head, scratching the back of her neck, “No! No! That’s not what Ii said!” She exclaims in a panic, making you huff and roll your eyes, “It’s what you meant.”
“No!” Ellie yells, catching the attention of everyone in the classroom, as they stare at her, her cheeks go red from embarrassment and she tries to hide her face with her hoodie. “Chill out, I’m messing with you, but I still want to do the work, my parents would kill me if I get another bad grade.” You say, Ellie’s eyes go wide with excitement.
“Great!” She says loudly, but then gets embarrassed again, “I mean great as in- I’m glad you’d join me! not great as in your parents killing you..” Ellie quickly confirms. You giggle, which makes Ellies cheeks grow more red.
“Anyway, Let me give you my info so we can plan when to do this project.” Ellie nods her head, taking out her notebook and pen to write it down. “Do you have snap?” You ask, Ellie quickly shakes her head.
“Insta.” Ellie nods her head, “What’s your username?” You ask, already having your phone out, ready to put her username in. “Umm..Lemme just type it.” Ellie tries to reach out for your phone but you move your arms away and wait for her to say her username.
Ellie looks down at her hands and quietly says “Ellie_theDino” You look back at her confused, not hearing her, “What?” Ellie sighs, saying it louder so you can hear her “Ellie_theDino..”
You type in the username and it’s the first page that pops up, a private account with 43 followers, a profile picture of sharks and a bio that says all her favourite things. Sharks, Dinosaurs, Spiderman and women
The bell rings and you quickly get up, saying to Ellie quickly “I requested you.” Ellie nods, “I’ll follow you when I get home, and I will message you about the details.” Ellie says and you nod quickly and exit the classroom.
-
Taglist
@vahnilla
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