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akingdomofswordsandstories · 4 years

Text

Unrequited

azriel (acotar) x reader

Summary: takes place during acofas, you and Azriel are mates but he doesn’t know it yet, angst, fluff, and everything in between

*Also this is my first imagine ever so I'm sorry if it sucks lol! There will be a part 2 to this, but I am still working on it!!

word count: 3927

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The winter solstice was in a few days and you weren’t sure what to get some of the inner circle. You walked briskly down the streets of the Rainbow, chilled to the bone due to the wind. You had made the dumb mistake of rushing out of the townhouse - to avoid any questions of where you were going - without taking your scarf. Your current outfit, which was a chunky knit blue sweater with leggings and boots, wasn’t enough to keep the chill away. But the cold wasn’t the most important thing on your mind. You had already bought presents for Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain, but that left Cassian, Mor, and Azriel. Mor and Cass would be pretty easy to buy for, but you put it off knowing they would look through your room trying to find their solstice gift. But Azriel, that would be much harder.

Every waking hour, the shadowsinger haunted your thoughts. Something you had come to conclude was unrequited.

You had realized the mating bond between you two before he did.

It had clicked a few months ago while on a diplomatic mission. The aftermath of Hybern had left things chaotic, and if you were being honest, it still was. Rhys decided to send Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and you to travel to some of the other courts to bring back reports on the recovery after the war. However, traveling did have some dangers. While you were on your way back to Velaris from the Winter Court, your group was ambushed by a group of Hybern soldiers who had been hiding out in the mountains. Had it not been for Azriel’s wings shielding you from the initial arrows, you would’ve surely been dead, and that’s when it clicked for you. But like an idiot, you didn’t say anything.

You had thought if the bond had clicked for you, it would've clicked for Azriel too. You realized your mistake when Azriel hadn’t acknowledged any change between you two. You hoped that he would figure it out in the coming weeks, but he didn’t. You knew the same sort of situation happened with feyre and rhys so you still held out some hope. But as the months went by, and you realized the bond still hadn’t clicked for Azriel and it felt too late to tell him.

At least that was the excuse you made up. Truly, you were also afraid of the rejection that could have followed. You weren’t a fool, you knew him and Elain had some sort of connection, and that shattered your dreams even more. The possibility that he wouldn’t accept the mating bond to be with the fair skinned, doe eyed fae. Everytime Azriel was in the same room as Elain, she was the only thing he would pay attention to. During gatherings, you would plaster on a smile and act as if you were happy, but Cassian and Mor, your best friends, could sense your discomfort. They tried to ask you about it, but seeing as you would shut down anything they said, they decided not to pry too much. Amren ended up figuring out the source of your discomfort had to do with Azriel, but kept your secret until you would be ready to share it.

You came to the conclusion that distancing yourself from him would be the best option, so that's what you did.

You walked down the street till you got to one of the finest seamstresses is Velaris. Since you were an artist like Feyre, you decided to draw out a dress and have it made for Mor. The color was blood red, her signature. It was a silk slip dress that would come down to her mid-lower calf and it would be embroidered with a brilliant gold thread. You drew out a pattern of the sun, stars, and moon, which you hoped she would like. To go along with Mor’s dress, you got a jeweler to make a custom necklace and bracelet set to go with it. You designed more dainty jewelry that had gold stars with diamonds, since she was a dreamer.

You decided to design Cassian’s gift as well, creating a beautiful silver and black dagger with a moonstone on the hilt. It was a beautiful dagger, but you also made sure it was usable, because you would hate for it to go to waste. To add onto the combat theme, you also decided to buy him new fighting leathers with touches of red embroidery to match his siphons. Lastly, you bought Cassian a bottle of fae wine, which definitely wouldn't last long.

The last thing you got for all three of you was a friendship necklace. Although that sounds corny, the two of them had become such a positive force in your life and you couldn’t imagine life without them. Keeping with the celestial theme for the friendship necklaces, you bought a sun, a moon, and a star. The sun for Cassian, the moon for Mor, and the star for you. Although they are opposites in some ways, all three need each other, just like the three of you needed each other.

Now that you had gotten Mor’s and Cassian’s solstice gifts figured out, it was onto Azriel’s gift. You honestly had no clue what to get him. Due to distancing yourself, you weren’t sure if there was something that he wanted. You were positively stumped. Lucky for you though, you ended up spotting Mor in another shop a few stores down from where you were, most likely getting the rest of her solstice gifts. You decided to sneak up on her as a friendly prank. Grabbing her shoulders, you yelled in her ear, making her jump.

“Oh mother above, it’s just you, y/n! You scared the life out of me” Mor said.

“Doing some last minute shopping?” you asked. “I could ask you the same thing”. Giving her a playful smack on the arm, the corners of your mouth curled upward, even the simplest remark from her could make you smile.

The two of you were currently standing in front of a jewelry shop, looking at the collections of necklaces and earrings through the window. “Wow” you breathed out “These are all so beautiful”

“Indeed they are, although they’re quite pricey”

“How pricey is pricey?”

She whispered the amount in your ear and you stopped breathing for a second, “Holy Mother wow, that is quite the price tag. At least we can admire it from a far”, you laughed out. Even though you got a very generous salary from Rhys, you still felt guilty spending so much money on materialistic things.

After a moment you said, “Actually, since you’re here, I do need help finding a solstice gift for Azriel”, softening your voice at the end, “Any ideas?” you asked, drawing out the syllables.

“Well, I always get Azriel some cool towels, clothing, or a dagger!” Mor said. A small scoff came out of my mouth as I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “Fine!” she exclaimed, “I may have overheard him needing a new leather sheath for Truth Teller.” grumbling towards the end. “Oh that sounds great, thank you for the help! Now let’s go off to the closest leather goods store and find a sheath!”.

“y/n! I still have shopping to do” a scowl appearing on her face. “Fine, I guess I’ll just call Cassian, cause his judgement might be better than yours, when it comes to knife related things of course” you said, baiting her.

“Ugh, I hate you y/n”

“I hate you too Mor”

“Fine, let's get going before I change my mind” she grumbled. Then we took off down the streets of the Rainbow to find a sheath.

The task was easier said than done, for you at least. Being indecisive and a major over thinker, you had looked through close to 100 sheaths, but none of them seemed good enough to hold the blade that Azriel never let anyone else touch. Except Elain.

While you were lost in your thoughts, you laid your y/c eyes on the perfect sheath. It had a bright cobalt blue stitching to match Az’s siphons. Along the tip and lining the top of the leather was a thin coat of silver plating with little sapphires embedded in the metal. You quickly snatched it up and paid a hefty price for it, but it was perfect.

“Thank god you finally picked one, it felt like we were in that store for centuries”. Mor sighed, probably a sigh of relief for getting out of the store, “But y/n, it’s perfect, I know Azriel will love it”

“Do you really think so? I just want it to be the perfect gift and I’m scared he won’t like it because what if it’s too simplistic and what if-”

“Hey! It's perfect! Don’t stress too much y/n. And for the record, I think that you’re an amazing gift giver - the amount of thought you put into gifts make it all the better.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and mumbled a small thank you.

“Anyway while we’re here do you need to get anything to go with your solstice outfit?”

“Oh Actually, I was so stressed about getting everyone’s solstice gift that I forgot to buy my dress” your voice falling off at the end. You felt yourself being yanked to a harsh stop and the saw Mor’s face staring at yours, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“Are you crazy?? Solstice is in 3 days and you still don’t have anything??? Oh honey, our shopping isn’t done yet.” And with that statement you found yourself being pulled into the nearest dress shop. After trying on nearly 20 dresses you finally found the perfect one, which Mor approved. It was a light blue silk dress that was more fitted at the top but flared down at your waist. It had a cowl neckline, a slit going up the side to the mid upper thigh, and accentuates your curves beautifully and has a slight shimmer to it. You looked ethereal in it

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After your exhausting day of shopping, you couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. You swiftly walked back to the townhouse. Once inside you made your way to your room to set down the gifts, change your clothes, and grab your book. Then you quietly headed down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the couch to read. The house was quiet since all of the others decided to go to Rita’s tonight. You decided to stay home for some much needed relaxation. You opened your book and started reading. After a few hours, you felt your eyes drooping and eventually, sleep consumed you.

The loud noise of the front door caused you to stir and your eyes fluttered open. You were too exhausted to look so you just laid your head back down and tried to go to sleep. You could hear Mor whispering something and then felt yourself being lifted off the couch and being held close to a chest with your blanket still draped on you.

“Cass?” you whispered hoarsely along with a string of incoherent words

You heard a slight laugh “Not Cass but It’s ok, go back to sleep”. Then you felt yourself being gently placed on your bed and the sleep hit you before you could mutter a thank you.

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The sun was setting towards the sea as you sat in the sitting room of the town house. You were in your blue silk dress with a glass of wine in your hand. Rhys and Feyre were by the mantel, quietly talking while Mor and Amren were across the room. Near the window I saw Elain, and from the corner of my eye I could see Azriel making his way towards her. My face fell but I quickly plastered on a smile, not wanting to concern anyone. Especially since today was also Feyre’s birthday and we had planned a surprise for her. Feyre thought she could slip her birthday past us, but we hadn’t forgotten. After a few minutes, Cassian made his way from the kitchen with the enormous cake.

You floated towards Feyre and gave her arm a light squeeze. “Happy Birthday, make a wish before the candles melt!”

She blew out the candles and then we ate cake before opening up the presents.

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Rhys snapped his fingers and piles of brightly wrapped bags and boxes filled up the sitting room. Amren was the first to open her presents. Naturally, everyone got her something jewelry related. Amren opened mine and you saw a wide smile set across her face, she picked up the diamond necklace and nodded a ‘thank you’ your way. You returned the gesture back, a small smile forming on your face.

Next, Cassian handed Mor her present from him and she pulled out a-. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He bought her red lingerie. Your face turned slightly red, but the Mor said “Don’t let him fool you: he couldn’t think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.”

Then, you heard one sharp knock at the door.

Nesta.

You saw Cassian tense up a bit. Nesta walked in, linking arms with Elain. She got a glass of wine before heading to sit in a chair in the back of the room. The silence was deafening. Finally Varian started talking and the present opening resumed.

From Amren, you received a new calligraphy set. It was so beautiful and you loved it. From Rhys, you got some books. It was perfect since you loved to read, and they were ones that you had been wanting to read for a long time. From Feyre, you received a painting as well as a new paint brush kit.

Cassian made his way to you and set a gift down in your lap. You opened the dark blue box that Cassian had placed in your lap. He had gotten you a sky blue hardbound journal with a gold embossed star on it. You desperately needed a new one, and this was perfect. You walked over and gave him a hug, whispered “Thank you, I love it.”.

Next you opened Mor’s present. You nearly choked when you saw what she got you and your whole face heated up. She got you a matching navy blue lingerie set like the one Cassian bought her.

“Yeah, I wasn’t too sure what to get you so I thought we could twin”. You looked around the room and saw the others holding in their laughs. You could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of red on Azriel’s ears. You just smiled and mouthed a silent “I’m going to kill you, but thank you” at her.

There wasn’t anything from Azriel. Your heart twinged. Had you not been important enough? It was just a present you reminded yourself, fixing your composure before handing Cassian his present.

He ripped it open like an animal, squealing when he saw it. A promising reaction given the amount of thought you put into it.

“Did you design these? They look amazing!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it. It took a long time to figure out what to get for your dumb ass”

“You mean my cute ass”, you smacked his arm and then got up to give Mor her present.

You closely watched her reaction as she opened her dress and jewelry, a large smile spreading across her face.

“You really buy the perfect presents y/n, I love it”.

“Oh Cass, Mor. One more thing.” You pulled out the small boxes with the friendship necklaces and bracelets handing it to them. “This was just a little something extra I thought of, I hope you like it”. You knew you would have started stuttering and crying if you had said the meaning to them, so you just handed them notes instead. They read over them, eyes glossing over, and pulled you into a hug.

“This is the only time I’ll wear jewelry” Cass stated, causing you to chuckle

Then Mor said, “I am never taking this off” causing you to laugh again.

Finally, Azriel opened up his presents. He had opened up all the others. All that was left was yours and Elain’s gift to him. He found his way to your present first, opening it.

“A new sheath for Truth Teller. I heard you needed a new one” you quietly said.

He held your gaze and smiled, “Thank you, it's great”. Suddenly feeling exposed, you quickly gave him a nod.

Then he went to open Elain’s gift. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” she said.

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

You hadn’t heard him laugh before, and mother above it was gorgeous. You had never heard a sound so deep and joyous, a sound which made your heart clench. A part of you wished you were the reason he was laughing. You forced on a smile and spent the rest of the night drinking away the slight pain in your chest.

You were exhausted by the end of the night, sitting on the couch with Cassian and Mor, Azriel and Rhys seated on the opposite side of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement towards the door, and craned your head to see what was going on. It was Nesta making her way to the door. You felt the couch lift next to you.

Cassian. He had swiftly pushed past Feyre and went after Nesta. This wouldn’t end well.

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Cassian had come back quiet and brooding, walking straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of liquor. You got up off the couch and followed him straight into the kitchen.

“Cass, let’s take a walk, yeah?”

“I just took a walk”

“It wasn’t a question”. You grabbed a white shawl and his hand and led him outside. “What happened?”

“What’s there to talk about? It was like all the other times. Why did I have to fall in love with someone who doesn't even love me back. Who looks at me like the Illyrian born bastard I am. Who hates the idea of being in the same room as me.”

You grabbed Cass’ hand, lightly squeezing it. “Don’t say that. Nesta, she,” your voice stopping for a second “She’s different. The way she handles pain and copes is different. Give her time. She just needs time. I know how much that may pain you, but you can’t rush healing”

You pulled him into a hug

“And for the record, I know the feeling more than you know” you quietly said “unrequited love”, head pointed at the ground.

Cassian tilted his head down to look at you, his face painted with confusion. You could tell he wanted to know more, but didn’t want to pry too much.

You hesitated before continuing, not sure if you wanted to reveal your closely guarded secret. “I-“ your voice faltering, “I found my mate”. The words seemed to have rushed out of your mouth and tears pricked your eyes as you said that. After months of hiding it, you had finally gotten it off your chest.

Cassian stood shocked, staring at you. “You found your mate? And you didn’t think to tell any of us? How long ago was this”

“I-, I found out who he was around the same time Rhys sent us on that diplomatic mission. And I didn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t even know yet.”

“That was almost 6 months ago, and you didn’t say anything?”.

The tears had started flowing at this point, “I thought he would figure it out. But by the time I realized he wasn’t going to figure it out, it was too late. He had already set his eyes on someone else. And I know I could never compete with Elain, even if I am his mate.” the last part slipped out without you realizing.

“Elain? What does she-“ his eyes widening “Does that mean Az is-“

You slowly nodded, tears welled up, threatening to spill out.

“Oh, mother…”, he pulled you into a tighter hug and that’s when the gates broke. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you sobbed into Cassian's chest, his hand stroking your back.

you must have been there for 15 minutes before you realized the other might start getting suspicious. Regaining your composure, you dried your tears and tried, to the best of your ability, to hide that you had been crying.

Looking back at Cassian, you gave him a slight smile before muttering, “Thank you. I’m sorry for dumping that on you, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Of course y/n, and don’t apologize, if it makes you feel better, it helped to take my mind off of Nesta and my own problems, which I desperately needed” he chuckled out.

With the smile still on your face, you linked arms with Cassian before saying, “Oh mother above it’s freezing, let’s get back inside before we turn into popsicles!”

He let out another laugh before the two of you made your way back into the house.

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You walked into the house and your sliver of happiness was crushed as you saw Az and Elain sitting at the table smiling and laughing quietly to themselves. Elain had her sketchbook out, showing Az her plans for the garden.

Your distraught had been clear to anyone who saw your face, and you were too tired to realize you weren’t able to hide it fast enough. Not being able to view the scene anymore, you quickly got up, muttered happy solstice, and grabbed your coat and purse before heading out the door to your apartment.

While walking home, you were consumed by your thoughts. You hated the pangs of jealousy that coursed through you. You often found yourself jealous of her soft spokenness and kindness. You also found yourself jealous of her effortless beauty. It was something that kept you up at night. She was so likeable and easily approachable, something you wished you were.

You were so drowned in your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed a male following you till it was too late. One of his hands clamped on your mouth while the other grabbed your waist and pushed you into the nearest alleyway.

The male pulled out a knife and your tears started to fall. You were terrified about what he would do to you. This could be the last time you would have seen your family. You were struggling and kicking against him but it was no use. Your senses were groggy from the alcohol and drowsiness.

You had been so stupid to walk home alone at 2 in the morning. No matter how angry you were, you should’ve just stayed at the town house.

Before you could realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side.

The sound of a clatter.

Receding footsteps.

A crimson stain blooming.

Your body crumpled to the ground and your vision started blacked out. This was it. Nobody could hear you and nobody could save you.

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel #cassian #imagine #sarah j maas #azriel acotar x reader

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deliontower · 4 years

Note

That fic on Colin Bridgerton was everything!!! Please do an Benedict x reader where he paints you in secret but the reader finds out and Benedict confesses his love <333

work of art | b.b

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

title: work of art pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader summary: you and Benedict bond over art and fall in love, though it takes you time to realise warning: swearing, angst, fluff and not much else word count: 2.5 k A/N: thank you so much for the request! i really enjoyed writing this and hope you like it!

Even though you had your own flat next to Benedict’s you preferred sitting in his while you worked. You would sit on the pile of cushions on the floor with you note pad across your lap to draw but, in the end, you’d give and watch Benedict while he worked.

His work was better than yours anyway. And when he’d paint or drew, he got this look on this face, a look that made you fall more in love with art, more in love with him.

“you have your own work, I believe” he grinned.

You smiled at him looking away, “I rather watch you. You know I struggle to draw without a live model” you groaned closing you pad.

He smiled at you nodding before returning to his work.

You really did love him, the kind of love that made your gut hurt. The love you felt was inconvenient at most times, you’d be drawing a live model and when it came to the eyes you would draw his eyes. Then you’d stare at the drawing, at those eyes. After the sixth time you gave up on portraits and stuck with landscapes or ones where the face couldn’t be seen.

Before you met Benedict, art was just something that made you stand out among your four older brothers and two older sisters. You did enjoy to paint and draw and going to all the galleries and the art shows but they never really sparked joy until the day Benedict came into your life.

You remember it clearly. You were stood studying the painting ‘Venus with a Mirror’, the roman goddess of love and beauty. It was a masterpiece something you could never dream of doing yourself.

“quite the painter, wasn’t he?” someone said behind you.

“he was” you agreed.

Then you turned around and saw Benedict and all the art in the room was forgotten.

“Benedict Bridgerton” he bowed his head.

You smiled feeling dizzy, “y/n y/l/n”.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you m y/ln. Always a pleasure to meet a titan fan” he move to stand next to you.

“I don’t think they’re too hard to find” you laughed looking at the painting too.

He laughed along and you swear it sounded like music.

You carried on meeting him once a week, at first it was just art shows and museums but then it turn into showing each other your art then just having dinner together. And now you had neighbouring flats.

“oh hell” you jumped up collecting your things, “my brother will be here soon to take me home for dinner. I need to get back to my flat before he comes”.

“and why can’t he just pick you up here?” Benedict asked looking away from his work. Paint was covering his hands and had splattered on his shirt.

“oh yes” you clapped your hands together. “Brother, I know papa pays for my flat to do my art but I don’t actually use it, instead I sit in my friends flat and watch him do art instead. What? you think something is going on? You think we’re having an illicit affair?! Where did you get that idea?” you exclaimed acting the conversation out.

You swore Benedict blushed but you couldn’t be sure. “well that doesn’t happen” he coughed.

“thank you for clarifying our relationship for me, Benedict” you chuckled. You opened the door then paused when he called your name.

He cleaned his hands with a cloth close by, “will I see you at the Astin’s party tonight?”.

You sighed. “unfortunately. Mother is convinced this is the year I marry” you rolled your eyes.

That struck his heart, you marrying someone was painful enough knowing it could be soon was worst.

“you better not leave me hanging” you smiled bring his attention back to you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it”.

“I’m taking that as a promised Benedict Bridgerton”.

You smiled at him one last time before leaving.

Benedict watched the door shut behind you. He was truly fucked. How he manged to actually get work done while you sat there was a mystery, he could hear your soft breaths feel your e/c eyes on him.

As long as you were a part of his life then he would be happy, content. Of course he knew a day would come where you’d fall in love with someone else and marry them. And it might just break his heart. He thought of what you said, how your mother thought this was the year for you. knowing he would lose you was pain enough being there to see it would feel like death.

Once Benedict was sure you weren’t coming back, he pulled out his secret project he had hidden behind some old paintings, it was proving to be impossible to finish because you were always by his side. He would spend the night at the flat but that would equal questions from his mother.

But here he was alone.

This was his heart drew bare. You. the day he met you actually, he still remembered it clearly. The sun light had pooled in through the sky light and made you look like an angel. He had spent many sleepless nights reliving the moment in his mind. The moment you met his eyes and smiled. Remembering the memory again and again felt like his own personal drug.

He knew you didn’t and would never love him back so he agreed to love you in silence. He poured all his love into this, every brush stroke was a piece of his love, his soul.

You sat in front of the mirror the mirror looking at yourself. Your hair was done. You had your best outfit on. everything was perfect but something, something was missing. What if you did meet the person you would marry. two of your brothers and one sister were married already, why wouldn’t it be your turn. But it wasn’t the life you wanted.

A married life being the perfect partner doing whatever is asked of you. you wanted a life full of colour and art with Benedict by your side. Benedict. A smile took over your face, you loved him so much. He was so close to your reach but so far away at the same time.

You met your own eyes. “I love you Benedict. I always have and I will for the rest of my life” you whispered to yourself. The thought of losing him had become too much, you battled with yourself the whole way home and the whole times as you dressed. If you were going to lose him let it be because you told him the truth. Not when he fell for another.

Maybe just maybe the feels the same.

You had only been at the party for an hour and you had already met three suitors your mother had picked out all who were closer to her age than yours, but like she said you couldn’t afford to be picky. You smiled and nodded as whatever their name was spoke, over their shoulder you spotted Benedict stood in the shadows with a bottle of wine in his hands. He pointed to the room behind him.

“I’m sorry” you cut them off mid-sentence, “if you would excuse me” you smiled walking away.

When you walked into the room you found Benedict sat on the floor in the dark. “come sit here don’t want to risk being caught” he waved you over.

You sat next to him reaching out of the bottle. “hope you got the good stuff. I need it”.

“not found your perfect match yet?” he laughed.

You nearly chocked on the drink. “god no. they were all old” you laughed. You took another swig and sighed. “she wants me to be the perfect child but I can’t be” you lent your head against the wall.

“we could run away to France” he said so seriously it shocked you.

You looked at him feeling breathless. You opened your mouth to speak, this could be the moment to tell him. tell him and run away to France and never look back. Your nerves ran out last minute. “I feel like dancing will you dance with me?”.

You jumped to your feet mentally kicking yourself for saying something so dumb. Benedict felt the last bit of hope he had die when you changed the subject so fast. He joined you standing in the middle of the room. If this is the only way he could be close to you he would take it.

You stood in front of each other, looking into his eyes.

Silently you both got into the right place. You could faintly hear the music playing from the main room. He put his hand against your back, you supressed a shiver. No one said anything while you danced.

Your eyes met his and it that moment you were breathless.

You were so close now. After a shaky breath you noticed you had stopped moving and were looking at each other now. His eyes fell down to your lips for a second before they met your eyes again.

You took a wobbly step back and exhaled. “my mama will be looking for me”.

“y/n” he stepped forward.

“she’ll go mad too, I left whatever their name was standing there” you laughed moving even more away from him. You left the room as fast as you could.

He was to shocked to follow after you. Just a few moments ago he was so close to you, touching you. He wanted to kiss, god how he wanted to kiss you and he thought maybe you wanted to kiss him as well but you walked away.

He wanted to paint. Every time he was hit with reality, he pained you, imagining you did love him back. It was a dream but he was all tied up in it. He was tied up in you.

He took a deep breath, he left the room, he left the whole building, not looking at anyone as he did. He wanted nothing more than to see you again but you would probably be with someone else, maybe evening falling in love.

It hurt to leave Benedict alone. But you were reading to much into things. He didn’t want to kiss you, why would he. You had just made him uncomfortable. You were battling with yourself when you saw Benedict walked through the main room to the doors.

The rest of the room seemed to disappear. You could only see him walking away from where you left him. Had you made him that uncomfortable he had to leave, he didn’t even say goodbye. You wanted to run after him and admit everything, give him your hand, heart, give him anything he asked. He just had to ask you.

“stay here” you mother hissed down your neck.

“I need to go” you muttered eyes locked with the door Benedict had walked through.

“No. you need to stay here and get a match” she snapped spinning you around so you were facing her. “Do you think you can just keep doing what you’re doing? Spend your day and night doing your ridiculous painting like that will get you anywhere”.

You were speechless. You knew no one took your art seriously but it hadn’t been said to your face. you had spent years with your back to a door keeping the truth out. “I don’t care” you started walking away.

“y/n” you didn’t listen as your mother called your name.

You didn’t care that people were looking from her to you.

You only cared about Benedict.

Benedict knew he was in for it when the got home and his mother saw his dress shirt was covered in paint, but right now he felt calm. You were in front of him, well the painting version of you was. He was almost done and soon this version of you would be gone too.

Apart of him hoped that his feelings would go too. It would make things easier if they did but who would he be if he didn’t love you. He had loved you for so long it was buried into his bones.

You knew Benedict like you knew yourself, you were so like sometimes it felt like your souls were one but they had be halved to make two people.

He would be in this flat painting you hoped he was waiting for you. you had enough of being scared and keeping everything locked up, you would tell him how you felt and face whatever followed. Once you reached the building you ran up the stairs as fast as you could, hating past you and Benedict for getting rooms on the top floor.

You nearly tripped up multiple times catching yourself last minute every time. You were gasping for breath once you reached the top. When you could breathe again you ran down the hall, all the rooms you passed were filled with laugher and music. How you wished you were apart it.

You stopped in front of his door. You put your hand against the wood and listened. You could hear him muttering under his breath, a brush quietly working away. You smiled at the picture in your head, maybe you’d paint it one day of all the things you could pictured this one was the clearest.

“Benedict I shouldn’t-“ you started as soon as you entered the room but stopped when you saw him.

You were right, he was painting you just didn’t think he would be painting, you.

Benedict dropped the paint brush to the floor. He looked from you to you, mouth open wide. “I can explain”.

You still stood in the doorway holding the door open. Mouth wide open. He came closer guiding you into the room so he could shut the door. “I don’t understand” you murmured. You looked to his worried face. “why are you painting me?”.

He helped you sit in your usual spot.

He took a deep breath reaching for your hand, you let him take it. relief washed through him. “its simple” he said looking into your eyes.

“is it” you breathed.

“I love you”

You mouth fell open again as you goggled at him. “you love me?”.

“I do and I understand if-“ he looked away from you so he wouldn’t have to face your rejection. But he was interrupted when you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both fell to the floor in a heap.

You kissed him hard on the lips, putting all your hopes into one kiss. You pulled back and looked down at him. “I love you too” you smiled feeling so much joy.

He didn’t say anything only kiss you again. his hands travelled up your back to your neck. You stayed there kissing him until it felt like your lungs were burning. You gasped, “you wouldn’t believe how long I wanted to do that” he laughed.

You traced his cheek bone, “probably as long I have”.

He smiled and it felt like the sun was risen. “will you ever stopped wanting too?”

“never” you whisper before you kissed him again and again and again, and you would until time stopped.

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x yn

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mysmemissme · 3 years

Text

Up the Rabbit Hole

Summary: You have a problem- you can't stop thinking about how good Barbatos looked in that bunny costume. It's interfering with your studies, duties, and even your friendship with him. With no clue what to do, you begin to avoid him.

Barbatos, however, is not fond of this fix, and when his patience runs thin, he offers you a more unorthodox solution.

Pairing: Barbatos/ Reader

Rating: Explicit

CW: Prostate massage, anal fingering, collars, slight master/pet

Read below the cut or on AO3

A gift for my friend for Barbatos’ birthday! Enjoy!

It was all that bunny suit’s fault.

Ever since everyone was forced to don those dumb bunny costumes, you had been an utter wreck. You couldn’t focus on your studies, earning you an earful from Lucifer. You couldn’t focus when you were cooking, earning complaints about the pitiful state of dinner from everyone but Lucifer. You couldn’t focus on Mammon’s schemes, or Levi’s games, or Satan’s recommended books, or Asmo’s fashion advice, or Lucifer’s lectures, or Beel’s workouts, or even something as simple as napping with Belphie. You couldn’t focus on anything.

Except for the mental image of Barbatos in that bunny outfit.

Why it had enchanted you so much was a mystery. Maybe it was the change in wardrobe; the way the vest highlighted his slender waist and broad shoulders, the lime green tie bringing out the same shade in his eyes. Maybe it was the ears themselves and the charming tail that accompanied them; the ears revealing a cutesier side to the ever-serious butler, and the fluffy tail drawing attention to his rounded behind. Maybe it was watching him work in the suit, catering to guests as serious, as dedicated, as always, despite the circumstances. Maybe it was the way he wore it all with no shame, not embarrassed in the slightest at the large ears, rounded tail, and odd situation, retaining his confidence through it all…

Maybe it wasn’t a mystery why you liked it so much after all.

Either way, your thoughts and preoccupation with the memories of Bunny Barbatos were providing you with issues- the biggest of which being that you couldn’t even talk with Barbatos anymore. You couldn’t make eye contact with him without thinking about floppy ears and a firm build. You couldn’t listen to him speak without the deep timbre of his voice igniting fantasies mid-conversation that left you a stuttering mess. Even simply being near him caused your brain to derail, hands to sweat, and heart to pound.

In one moment of weakness, you bought a dark green collar you saw while browsing the web, one you knew would look amazing on Barbatos, especially paired with the cursed ears and tail. You hid it in your bedside table, refusing to acknowledge just how far gone you were, refusing to acknowledge the new images, fantasies, and dreams it sparked.

You, in embarrassment and for your sanity, started to avoid him.

You weren’t dumb enough to think this would solve the problem, especially with how sharp Barbatos was. What you had hoped was that Barbatos would tolerate your finicky behavior without prying just long enough for you to get this problem under wraps.

For a while, it worked- Barbatos allowed you to make your escape, sending any messages he needed to tell you through the brothers. He left sweets wrapped with notes attached on them for you to enjoy on your bed. If you ended up in the same hallway, he kindly ducked into a nearby corridor in order for you to pass unhindered.

This game continued for two weeks- you avoiding him, and Barbatos letting you. His patience was commendable, and it was just another thing you admired about him. He let you go, again and again, in an unusual game of cat and mouse.

But everyone’s patience runs out eventually.

It was on the fifteenth day of this arrangement that Lucifer handed you a note. It read:

Dear,

Meet me in your bedroom tonight at eight ‘o’clock sharp. There is something we must discuss. No more running from me.

Sincerely,

Your faithful servant, Barbatos

You read over the note again with trepidation and glanced at the time on your D.D.D.- 4:01. You had four hours to prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation you knew was to come. Four hours to get yourself under control. Your stomach tied itself in knots.

Stupid bunny outfit.

-----

Time flew, and before you knew it, eight was upon you.

You paced outside your door, fidgeting with your hands and hair. Your nerves were getting the best of you. What if he rejected you? What if he no longer even wanted to be friends with you? What if he called you a kinky freak and exposed you? What if he convinced Diavolo to send you back to the human world?

‘What if’ upon ‘what if’ piled up in your mind, each one more ridiculous and implausible than the last. It was agonizing, not knowing what was going to happen when you stepped through the door and faced Barbatos. You felt the seconds tick away, each pressing down on you more and more.

Finally, you couldn’t stand the pressure and anxiety anymore. You flung the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. There, on your bed he sat with-

With bunny ears on and the suit to match. Suddenly, you felt like passing out.

When he saw you enter, he moved to stand, and a flash of light from his neck caught your eye. The bunny ears had distracted you from the rich, dark green velvet adorning his slender neck, the gold chain attached matching the golden detailing and swirls on the green.

It was the collar you had bought. He was wearing the collar you had bought and hid.

“That- that’s the- But I- How’d you- Why’re you-,” you stuttered. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, and they all came rushing out in an incomprehensible mess you continued to stumble through, even as Barbatos glided towards you. He raised a gloved hand and caressed your face when he was near enough to. He shushed you.

“A few days ago, I came in here to drop off a slice of Devil food cake, and I intended to leave a note. However, I seemed to have forgotten a pen. I didn’t mean to pry, but I figured that one such as yourself would keep a pen near your bed, so I looked in your bedside table. While I certainly did find a pen to write with, I also found this charming collar hidden away. It seemed to match perfectly with a certain outfit I wore not too long ago. Care to explain?”

His facial expression never changed, but his eyes shown with a mischievous sheen, his voice filled with amusement, and there was a slight self-satisfied quirk to his smile. You could try and lie your way out of this one, but it was clear he had figured you out long ago. You sighed.

“I think you already know everything, jerk,” you grumbled, before continuing louder. “Fine. You were really hot in that bunny outfit, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I bought that collar because I thought it would look good on you, and I was right. I’ve been having inappropriate fantasies about you, which is why I’ve been avoiding you. There, happy?”

He chuckled. “Quite. Hearing such flattering words come from you is always welcomed. Since you were so honest with me, I believe you deserve a special treat.”

“What do you mean by ‘special treat?’ Like dessert?” He hummed, obviously amused.

“No, I believe something else is in order. You mentioned certain… fantasies pertaining to me, did you not?” You nodded dumbly. His lips twitched, and he reached for his tie, slowly loosening it. “Well then, since you were honest about having them, as a reward I’ll allow you to fulfill them.”

Your brain was running a mile a minute but still couldn’t seem to catch up. “Fulfill my fantasies?” you questioned.

He fully removed his tie, moving to lay it on the bed. He then began to undo the buttons on his vest and shirt, revealing inch-by-inch more of his pale skin. “Yes, fulfill your wishes. Touch me as you wish, direct me as you want. Command me, your humble servant.”

It was like his words had cast a spell on you, because suddenly all the desire and lust you had been repressing for the past weeks welled to the surface. Your hands itched to touch, your tongue to taste, and your eyes to look upon him below you.

“Lay down on the bed.”

He did as told, and you closed the distance in a second, straddling his body. His dark hair fanned out against the pillows, bunny ears tapping the headboard. His eyes practically glowed with a mix of satisfaction and interest. His shirt and vest were completely undone, hanging open. You swallowed.

You pushed the shirt and vest down his arms, and with his help, you removed them completely. Now that his upper body was completely visible, you couldn’t stop your hands from dancing along his shoulders, collarbones, and chest with frantic energy.

“You know,” you started, voice thick, “In my fantasies, I like to spoil the always-composed butler with attention and pleasure till he so overwhelmed that his mask breaks, and I get to see him beg. Spoiling someone who always works so hard, like they are my pet who did a good job, and this is their reward.”

“Then by all means, Master, reward me, your humble bunny.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You leaned down, pressing kisses along his flawless skin from his partially exposed neck, to his collarbones, to his nipples. Your lips latched onto one, sucking and tugging lightly with your teeth, while the other one was pinched with your eager hand. You heard him sigh, but that wasn’t enough- you wanted to hear him lose his composure completely.

You move to the other nipple, laving it with attention as well, till both nipples were hard and perky. Once you were satisfied with that, you continued your path downwards. You alternated dotting his skin with kisses and light nips, stopping to suck here and there. When you passed his belly button, getting ever so close to the waistband of his pants, you felt his stomach tighten in anticipation.

You reached for the button on his pants, undoing it and shoving them down to his ankles, stopping to admire the bulge in his boxer briefs before shoving those down, too. His cock now free and hard, it stood proudly towards his stomach, leaking precum.

You wrapped your hands around it, looking up at Barbatos’ face for any sign of change, but his expression was as placid as always. Using the precum dripping from the tip, you wet your hands, before setting a steady pace of jerking him off, slowing at the tip to rub your thumb against it.

You looked up at his face, yet his expression had not changed despite the pleasure.

You were going to have to up your game if you wanted him to melt beneath you.

You stopped your ministrations, leaning over Barbatos to reach into your beside table. You pulled out the lube you had stashed there, closing the drawer, and moving back down Barbatos’ body. You spread his legs and settled between them, popping the lube open. You poured a sizable amount onto your palm, then began rubbing your hands together to warm the liquid.

“This okay?” you asked, circling your middle finger around his tight hole, but not entering.

“Touch me as much as you want, wherever you want,” he said, voice husky. You rolled your eyes.

“Is that a yes? I need a clear one.”

“Then, yes.” He spread his legs even wider, giving you ample access.

Now that that was out of the way, you tentatively pushed your finger into his tight hole. With your free hand, you grabbed his cock once more, stroking it to make sure he felt good even while you stretched him.

You began to thrust your finger in and out, letting Barbatos adjust to the sensation. When you felt him relax and loosen slightly around you, you added a second finger. He hissed at the additional digit, and when you checked to make sure he was okay, his eyes were closed, eyebrows raised and furrowed.

You stopped moving. “Is this-,”

“Yes, it’s okay. Keep going,” he grunted out, wiggling his hips. You started thrusting your fingers again, and he sighed.

Oh, okay.

So, he was feeling it, but you still wanted more.

You replaced your random thrusting with rubbing against his inner walls, searching for what you knew would cause him to crumble. It took a few moments, but you knew the second you felt the bump that that was what you had been looking for.

You began to circle the small bump, applying steady pressure, causing Barbatos to arch off the bed. Proud that you had gotten such an obvious reaction out of him, you doubled down, circling faster and tightening your grip on his cock as you continued to jerk him off.

You then alternated between circling, tapping the bump, and rubbing it in a ‘come hither’ motion. Barbatos’ legs began to quiver, and when you glanced up, you saw he had become a mess- panting with his mouth open, sweat beading on his brow, and cheeks flushed pink. You stared in wonder, adoring his reactions.

And yet, it still wasn’t enough- he still hadn’t made any noise.

Desperate for him to moan or gasp or anything, you replaced your hand on his leaking cock with your lips, circling the tip with your tongue and licking the underside, before taking him in your mouth.

“Ah!” he gasped, bucking his hips, pushing his cock further into your mouth, the taste of his salty precum and his smell overwhelming your senses. As you took him deeper, you applied more pressure on his prostate, all while keeping your motions random.

It was then that Barbatos’ poise began to collapse completely. He started wiggling his hips, thrusting forward and backward like he was chasing both the warm heat of your mouth and the shocks of pleasure your hand was providing with his prostate. One of his gloved hands came down to rest on the back of your head, fingers wrapping your hair and holding you in place as he used your mouth. He moaned as he fucked your mouth roughly, cock touching the back of your throat.

Then, a loud moan he released caused you to look up once more, only to meet his hazy gaze as he stared down on you pleasuring him. Your eye contact seemed to add fuel to the fire as the grip on your hair tightened, and his thrusts became faster. From how he was biting his lips and arching his back, you could tell he was close, so you ground your fingers against his prostate, harder than before, right as his cock was fully sheathed in your mouth.

With the simultaneous overpowering sensations, he came, sighing long and low as he filled your throat with his cum. You managed to swallow most of it, though some slid down your chin. After a few seconds, when he was done basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, he pulled his softening cock from your mouth, and you moved back from between his legs so he could pull his pants up.

Once he was tucked back in and pants buttoned, you figured you were done and went to stand, only to end up flat on your back on the bed, Barbatos straddling you in a surprising role reversal of earlier. You gaped up at him. His face was already back to normalcy, but his lips were shiny with spit and his hair tousled.

He reached up, taking off his bunny ears and putting them on you. He leaned down, licking the cum off your chin before whispering against your ear.

“Now, it’s my turn.”

#barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me #shall we date barbatos #shall we date obey me #writing #hope you like it!#remember my requests are open!#comments likes and reblogs appreciated!!#happy birthday barbatos #bunny barbatos

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asset35-maya · 3 years

Text

Nice Things

Inspired by this spectacular drawing of long-haired Nines by @marndraws

Gavin Reed never had nice things.

Every day was a fight for survival. He studied hard, worked hard and did everything he could to come out on top… but he never had nice things. If he did, they wouldn’t last.

Then the most beautiful creature to walk the planet entered his life.

A sheer scientific miracle. A combined feat of engineering and art. The most advanced android ever built… and the kindest soul the mean city of Detroit had ever seen.

Nines.

Gavin had no idea how to interact with the RK900 in the beginning. If it were any other new partner he’d have been his usual abrasive self, but there was something about the android that left him dumbstruck. No insults came to mind, so Gavin stuck to silent cooperation (and obedience, actually).

The RK900 model was designed to be aesthetically pleasing. There was no doubt about that, but it was how the android carried himself that took things to another level entirely. Poise, elegance and flair touched everything that he said and did.

It extended to the way he transformed his appearance after deviancy. Nines shed his Cyberlife uniform with the harsh turtleneck and stiff jacket in favour of softer, more delicate garments. He still stuck to dark colours, but his clothes were all loose and flowing. He dressed more like an interior decorator than a homicide detective (and it honestly served him well).

Gavin often had to tear his gaze away from the refined fabrics and unconventional styles that Nines wore. Gavin never had nice things… but he certainly had an eye for them.

And then there was Nines’ hair…

When Gavin had first seen the change from the default appearance settings, he had to leave the station, find a quiet alley and focus on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Nines… for some unknown, wild, spectacular, unprecedented, utterly amazing reason… had decided to lengthen his hair and let it hang loose around his shoulders.

The dark tresses were as expressive as the android himself. They danced when he laughed. They whipped the air when he animatedly told a story with his steel blue eyes flashing. They shone in every damn light.

Gavin couldn’t help but stare. He never had nice things… but he was drawn to them.

Not a day went by that he didn’t want to reach out and tuck the fine strands behind Nines’ ear, but he held back from giving in to such insanity.

Nines didn’t hold himself back though.

For all the times Gavin had been looking, so had he. He made his move in the middle of a very boozy Christmas party at the DPD. It didn’t take much of an effort. They left the party together on the flimsy pretext of Nines showing Gavin his Christmas lights at home… and promptly fell into bed together.

Gavin had never had nice things… but he knew exactly what he wanted, and when they were presented to him on a silver platter, he knew how to take them.

Nines’ hair was as soft as he imagined and even silkier than he dreamed. He couldn’t stop running his fingers through the lifelike synthetic fibres and Nines couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch either.

Bliss.

On the third anniversary of the Christmas party, the pair found themselves in very much the same position, only that they didn’t actually make it to the mindless office event this time. The day started and ended in bed.

Fairy lights glittered and tastefully-chosen tinsel framed the snow-laden windows of their loft apartment. The large Christmas tree emanated a warm glow that reached even the bedroom where they lay tangled in the sheets.

Nines was draped over Gavin’s chest, his fingers skimming idly across the warm skin.

“Sweetheart…”

“Nines.”

Gavin’s wary tone of voice made the android laugh. A velvet sound that the human would follow to the ends of the earth.

“What’s the thing you love most about me?”

Gavin exhaled loudly, hugging Nines closer.

“Baby, you know I ain’t good at words and shit.”

“I’m not asking you to write me a poem. Just tell me what you love most about me.”

He sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“Is this a test?”

“I don’t have to test you. I know everything there is to know about you. I can read you like a book even with my analysis software turned off.”

“Uh huh. Then why the inquisition?”

“Because validation is nice.”

Gavin snorted and carded his fingers though Nines’ gorgeous hair.

“Guess I can start by applauding your honesty.”

Nines hummed, rubbing slow circles into Gavin’s pec with his thumb. A few minutes went by and Gavin began to drift off to sleep.

“So what’s more attractive to you? My personality or my looks?”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open in alarm.

“What the ph-”

“There’s no right or wrong answer. Just tell me.”

Nines propped himself up on his elbows and peered into Gavin’s face. It was truly a magnificent sight. Two piercing blue eyes… plush lips curling into a smirk… a cyan LED… and a perfectly arched eyebrow. A pale, angular face… framed by sweeping curtains of dark, glossy hair.

Gavin gulped.

“I can’t choose. You’re the total package.”

“Cop out.”

“Pfffft. You tell me then. What do you like better? My mug or my sharp wit? Hah. Betcha can’t answer that for all the complex calculations your supercomputer brain can do.”

Nines tossed his hair over his shoulder and elevated himself further, pressing his forearms onto Gavin. His fixation with the human’s muscular chest was no secret.

“I can.”

“Huh.”

“You hardly said anything when we first met so I had nothing to go off for your personality-”

“Maybe I was mysterious and aloof and ya just couldn’t resist.”

“No, I actually thought you were kind of slow. All your medals and service awards didn’t make any sense to me.”

“Wowww.”

“So it had to be your body. Why else would anyone keep you around?”

“Is that why you stuck around too?”

“Maybe.”

“You little-”

Gavin reversed their positions on the bed, flipping Nines onto his back and curling huge biceps around his lithe body. Nines tipped his head back to allow Gavin to drag his teeth across his throat and latch onto his collarbone. Some moments passed like that until Nines regained control by hooking a leg over the human’s waist to slow him down.

“Fine. I confess. It was the leather jacket.”

“Seriously?”

Nines dug his heel into Gavin’s coccyx.

“It was everything about your appearance that you had control over… or weren’t born with at least. For instance, your face is conventionally attractive, but it’s all the lines and scars and little things that made me wonder what kind of a life you’d lived… what you might have gone through... how you came out stronger. And yes, your body is a temple, but it’s the work you put into it that I admire. You know how to take care of yourself and that’s…”

“Hot?”

“Hot.”

Nines accepted a rather sloppy kiss with grace. He rubbed his hands up and down his partner’s back.

“So. Tell me. What was it for you? What is it for you?”

Gavin’s right hand subconsciously found its way into Nines’ long hair and caressed his scalp. He sighed into the crook of Nines’ neck and took in the familiar scent that was neither entirely human nor entirely artificial. Everyone expected androids to smell like a new car but the fact was that each of them had their own unique smell. It was impossible to describe in words, but it was one of the many many things Gavin loved about Nines.

“Babe, I think you’re asking a shit ton of questions, but none of them are what you actually wanna ask.”

“Say more.”

“Gavin, do you love me because I look like a Greek god or is it because I’m smart as phck? Gavin, what did you notice first about my sexy android ass? Does the same thing get you off today, or is it something else?

I think… there’s something you already know… or something you think you know… and you’re just trying to get me to say it and dig myself into a giant hole.”

Nines didn’t respond but his LED did. Gavin chuckled and pressed his lips to the spinning yellow light.

“Called it.”

Nines rolled his eyes.

“It’s my hair, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Admit it, you’re obsessed with my hair.”

“And you’re obsessed with my tits. We take turns objectifying each other. First sign of a healthy relationship.”

The android’s sharp nose scrunched up at a particular word and Gavin closed his eyes in resignation. Despite his best efforts he’d walked right into the trap.

“Dammit, babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never ever see you as an object-”

“My, my… we’re lying here two years to the day we became…”

“A thing.”

“Yes. And here I am reminiscing about what made you even look at me in the first place… and it turns out the credit goes more to Cyberlife than it does to me.”

Gavin groaned while his lover’s tinkling laughter rang out. He had to think fast if he had to turn the tables.

“So I’m that slow?”

Nines looked back at him, confused.

“You just dragged MY instincts. Like I’m dumb enough to fall for a program written by some geeky little code nerd. Like it was all totally predetermined and I didn’t see you tease and flirt and practically fall over yourself trying to get my attention for months. Huh?”

Gavin tightened his grip and gave his partner an affirmative shake.

“All those outfits and nail colours and pointy shoes and sparkly, shiny things. You saw me looking and you just kept stepping it up.”

He grasped Nines’ jaw and kissed him firmly.

“And your hair, baby… yeah, some genius worked on the tech at some point… but they didn’t tell you how to wear it. They didn’t tell you about the length or cut or angle. They didn’t tell you to walk around looking like a phcking prince. They didn’t tell you to roll the car windows down on the highway so your hair could fly in my face and drive me phcking crazy…”

Gavin thrust his fingers into the dark locks and pulled the android back in for a series of open-mouthed kisses and tantalising swipes of his tongue. Nines started to reciprocate physically, but Gavin swatted his hands away, not wanting to let things go further without making it clear who had gained the upper hand in their ridiculous game. He broke away panting.

“I love you. Don’t ask me why because there isn't one single reason. And I phcking love your hair. Not just ’cause it’s pretty but ’cause you’re the only motherphcker in that precinct who’d show up to the gristliest of crime scenes looking like a runway model.”

They stared at each other. Nines’ LED flickered.

“I… wow, sweetheart… okayyy… I… love you too.”

A moment of silence passed and Gavin rounded things off with his classic double wink.

“You’re welcome.”

Nines smiled, accepting defeat. He reached up and carefully rearranged his hair, letting it fan out on the pillow. Unable to keep the smile off his face, Gavin dipped his head down and returned his lips to Nines’, kissing him under the covers until his LED spun bright blue.

Gavin Reed never had nice things… until he learnt how to take good care of them.

Part 2: Red Dress

#reed900 #gavin900 #dbh gavin #gavin reed #rk900 #dbh rk900 #dbh nines #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #tw: implied sex #high romance #my writing #dbh writing

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Can I get something where Newt barges in on Hermann doing some yoga in the most scantily clad yoga gear ever...

ok this is for like 3 people and wholly inspired by the hermann tank top renaissance on side twitter this past week. 18+ under cut!!!

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

The good thing about living on what used to a pretty bustling base—Newt considers—is that the average athletic hopeful has their pick of at least three different gyms at any given time. And the good thing about that—Newt further considers, as he half-jogs down to the gym closest to the k-science lab—is that the rangers don’t bother with any gym besides the one directly off of their quarters, because it’s got the sparring mats and the nice equipment and all that shit. Look, Newt’s not exactly the most ripped guy in the world. Or even really very fit. When he feels the rare urge to hit the gym, he doesn’t want to be struggling over some push-ups while rangers with muscles as big as his head lift 300 pound barbells and bust open punching bags or whatever. It’s...degrading.

Lately Newt’s been hitting the gym more frequently than usual, on account of a something that passed between him and Hermann at lunch in the mess a few weeks back. Hermann had caught eye contact with one of the muscled rangers across the room, looked down at his little bowl of soup, and said—calmly—“He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”

Anyway, that’s why Newt has to get all buff now.

It’s disappointing to see that the gym lights are on, but maybe no one will take any notice of Newt if he sticks to a deserted, badly-lit corner or something. He’s so set on creeping inside undetected that he doesn’t even realize who it is that’s beaten him there that morning, until he hears a small, surprised “Newton?”

Newt looks up sharply. Hermann is on a yoga mat in the middle of the gym floor, his left leg stretched out far to the side, and bent halfway over to touching one socked foot. But that’s not what stops Newt dead in his tracks and sends a fiery jolt of arousal rocketing straight down to his stomach, and it’s not even the little grunting noises Hermann’s making as he goes: that’d be Hermann’s outfit. He’s forgone his usually twenty wrinkled old layers for a pair of baggy grey yoga pants and the absolute thinnest white tank top of all time, a tank top which shows off shapely, toned arms, a thin layer of sweat over each, and collarbones, and clings to a shapely set of pecs, which has ridden up just enough to show off a patch of pale stomach, with a small trail of light-colored hair leading down, and... “Newton!” Hermann repeats, shooting up in alarm.

“Wha?” Newt says, and then he trips over a weight bench.

It’s one of their more uncomfortable trips to medical.

"Don’t tip your head back,” Hermann says.

“Thanks,” Newt says, except Hermann’s handkerchief is pinched to his nose, so it sounds a great deal more nasal. “I know, dude. Not my first rodeo.” He’s gotten his ass kicked for mouthing off in bars to jackasses more times than he cares to admit. He pulls away the handkerchief and scowls at the blooming scarlet stain, as if doing so might stop the source of it. It doesn’t; another splotch of blood lands on his hand, and he quickly shoves the handkerchief back into place. “Unbelievable. I’m gonna look so fuckin’ gnarly tomorrow.”

“Well, I suppose it’s an lucky thing you haven’t broken it,” Hermann says. “Or anything else, for that matter. How on Earth did you manage to do that, anyway?”

“I was thinking about,” Newt casts about for a suitable lie, “...kaiju. You know me. Haha.”

Newt had landed pretty flat on his face. The way Hermann had sprung into action would be admirable, really, and Newt would feel grateful enough to treat Hermann to takeout coffee for at least a week, if the act that necessitated fast action hadn’t been so completely and utterly mortifying. Hermann is still in his little yoga pants and tank top; he didn’t even remember to grab his shoes from the gym before he escorted Newt out. The knotted drawstring of the yoga pants is hanging well down his thighs. Skinny motherfucker. Since when has Hermann had pecs? “Aren’t you cold?” Newt blurts out.

“Cold?” Hermann says.

With a great deal of difficulty, Newt forces his eyes up from the swinging drawstring of Hermann’s yoga pants to his torso. His half-bare torso. With his shapely arms, and his shapely pecs, and his elegant collarbones. If Newt squints hard enough, he could probably see Hermann’s nipples through the white fabric. Especially now—the Shatterdome really is always so cold, with the A/C blasting, and Hermann is usually so sensitive to it... Oh, God, someone help Newt. “Because you’re in,” he says, and then swallows a few times, “th—that. Tank top.”

Hermann looks down at himself, like he’s forgotten what he’s wearing—like it’s inconsequential what he’s wearing—and hums. “I hadn’t really noticed—I was a bit overheated, I suppose, from my exercises.”

“Your exercises,” Newt says.

“Yes, my stretches,” Hermann says. “They do wonders for keeping my leg limber.”

Limber; Hermann is limber. Hermann, in his little yoga pants and tank top, grunting away while he stretches out, is limber. “I didn’t know,” Newt says. He’s started to feel a bit light-headed again, and hopes Hermann doesn’t notice the funny way he’s walking. He’ll be grateful when they get back to the lab and he can sit down a little, or maybe run back to his bunk and take care of his...problem.

They walk under one of the larger A/C vents; Hermann gives a little shiver. Newt forces his eyes all the way down to Hermann’s socked feet to avoid catching sight of any potential physiological responses in Hermann’s pectoral region. “Maybe you should put on a sweater,” Newt says, helpfully. He watches Hermann’s cane move up and down with each step. He’s never seen Hermann not wearing a sweater before. Not even at Shatterdome parties. Up until today, Newt would’ve thought that Hermann wore sweaters to the beach, some sort of special waterproof wool. Maybe he wears tank tops to the beach.

Hermann says something.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says. He thinks about the small beads of sweat that had been dotting Hermann’s exposed collarbones.

“Were you listening?” Hermann says.

Newt looks up. “No,” he says.

“I said we ought to go to the gym together, in the mornings,” Hermann says. He gives Newt one of his rare, blinding smiles, his funny mouth going lopsided. “It’s too bloody quiet in there. I’d appreciate even your company.”

Unlimited access to Hermann’s bare arms, his bare shoulders, his collarbones. Grunting. Stretching every which way. It sounds like a fucking nightmare, or maybe a hellish wet dream. Besides—Newt doesn’t go to the gym. Not like Hermann. Apparently. “Sounds cool,” Newt says.

Hermann looks pleased. Stupid, stupid Newt.

He jerks off furiously in the empty communal showers that night, thinking—extensively—about what it would be like if he was jerking off on Hermann’s stupid tank top instead.

They make plans to meet at the gym the next morning at six, with a trip to the mess hall for breakfast at seven after. Hermann, it turns out, has an extensive workout routine, but not quite an extensive workout wardrobe, and so—as Newt attempts a few puny sit-ups in his oldest pair of MIT sweatpants—he’s treated to another view of Hermann’s weirdly gorgeous arms straining and sweating in that stupid tank-top. He watches Hermann stretch and bend each leg and lift some of the smaller weights for ten minutes before he realizes that he hasn’t actually moved a single inch since sit-up number three. Hopefully Hermann hasn’t noticed. “You’re not tired out, are you?” Hermann says, having apparently noticed. He groans as he arches his back. He has a small birthmark on his left shoulder. “I don’t mind finishing a bit—”

“No!” Newt says. “Not tired. Just, uh—” Hermann shuts his eyes and groans again, a little louder. “Just—” Hermann’s tank top has ridden up, giving Newt a glimpse of that little dusting of hair, the elegant vee of his hips... Newt bites his lip to keep himself from saying something stupid. “I. Uh.”

Hermann, bent half-over, looks up at Newt through his pretty dark eyelashes. Newt cracks.

“Holy shit, dude,” he whines.

Hermann straightens up languidly. “Mm?”

He doesn’t even look surprised when Newt reaches out a fumbling hand towards his knee, nor when—a moment later—Newt surges forward to kiss him clumsily. Hermann’s mouth merely curves up in a smirk against his, and he fists the back of Newt’s ratty old t-shirt to draw their bodies tighter. “I’ve been wondering when you would do that,” he says, and his voice hitches up in a small gasp when Newt presses his kisses onward across his jaw. “You’re the least subtle man I know.”

“Don’t even care,” Newt mumbles. He nips some of the soft skin at Hermann’s throat and lifts his hands up to squeeze his biceps. They’re nice and sturdy under his fingers. Is this moving into new territory with Hermann way too fast? Maybe. Sort of. They’ve made out a few times at parties before, and once Newt gave him a discreet (fully-clothed) handjob in a kinda nasty alleyway outside a bar on his birthday, but nothing, like, serious. Though it’s not like this is serious. Lab partner stuff. “Holy shit, dude, I didn’t know you were so strong.”

“Strong?” Hermann snorts. He goes easily when Newt urges him onto his back against his dumb little yoga mat; his pupils are wide and dark, and a pink flush has started creeping down his neck. He drapes his arms over Newt’s shoulders. “I didn’t know you cared about those sorts of things.”

“I don’t,” Newt says. “I didn’t.” He tracks more kisses down the dips of Hermann’s collarbones, following that blush. “I guess it’s just you?”

He doesn’t wait for an invitation before rucking up Hermann’s tank top. He hasn’t got a six-pack, or anything like that, but Newt doesn’t really care, because Hermann’s pecs rock even more when they’re bare. He squeezes at one just to see Hermann make a face, and—laughing—ducks down to graze his teeth across the left one, taking care to catch at his nipple. Hermann hisses sharply and grabs at his hair. He looks a little silly with his top bunched under his armpits, but it’s kind of cute too. Newt trails his tongue across Hermann’s sternum and tries his luck at the other side, too, and is pleased when Hermann gives a full-body shudder after each. “Ah, Newton,” he moans. “I’m—sensitive—there.”

Newt kisses over the spot instead as way of apology. Then he starts to trail his kisses lower, down Hermann’s slightly concave abdomen, where the skin is luminously pale. Newt amends his earlier assumption that Hermann wears tank tops to the beach; he’s not sure if Hermann has ever even stepped foot on a beach. “Newton,” Hermann moans again. He gives Newt’s hair a little tug when Newt takes the drawstring of his yoga pants between his teeth. If he goes down on Hermann good enough, maybe Hermann will let him test out last night’s fantasy... “Mm. Be quick about it. We haven’t got all—”

The door to the gym swings open; two rangers, chatting away happily, step inside, and stop in their tracks when they catch sight of Newt and Hermann. Newt flings himself off of Hermann, but it’s too little too late. It’s pretty obvious what Newt and Hermann had been doing. “Oops!” one of the rangers says, turning their back to them. Their friend turns away, too, and laughs awkwardly. “Sorry, Dr. Geiszler, Dr. Gottlieb. We didn’t realize this was—uh. Occupied.”

Hermann yanks down his tank top.

“No worries,” Newt squeaks. “We’re. Uh. Just about done.”

The door clicks back shut; Newt hears laughter. Hermann is covering his face. “Hand me my bloody sweater,” he says. “We’ll finish this later.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #not sfw /////

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btsqualityy · 4 years

Text

Scripted: Part 19

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, emotional/mental manipulation

“Are we sure that none of our men had anything to do with the shooting?” Kim Sang-hoon asked, for what felt like the 100th time in the 30 short minutes that Jimin had been called into a meeting in Namjoon’s office, along with the other members of the security detail.

“Everyone has been vetted, they’re clean,” Jimin assured him.

“How can you be so sure?” Sang-hoon pressed and Jimin wanted to claw his own fucking eyes out in annoyance.

“Dad, stop,” Namjoon spoke up, making everyone look over at him where he sat at the head of the large rectangular table. “Now, while I appreciate your eagerness in making sure that what happened a month ago doesn’t occur again, I trust that Jimin nor anyone else at this table had anything to do with the shooting. Also, the committee that was put together to find the assassins are sure that the three people they have in custody acted alone.”

“You can never be too sure with these types of things, Namjoon-ah,” Sang-hoon replied and Namjoon nodded.

“I know, which is why Jimin has come up with some new and improved security measures for us,” Namjoon said as he raised his hand and motioned to Jimin. “Go ahead.”

“All cars and limousines are being outfitted with new bulletproof glass, bulletproof tires, and new senors underneath. All routes taken by chauffeurs will be changed regularly, so that they don’t become too predictable. The President and First Lady’s public event schedules won’t be released until the morning of the event and at said event, there will be an increased presence of armed guards in addition to our regular security detail,” Jimin explained. “Also, at large scale events where there are a lot of people present, we will have armed snipers stationed on top of every building that’s visible.”

“Armed snipers?” A member of the security detail, Jaebum, spoke up. “Aren’t those usually reserved for occasions of the utmost importance?”

“I think that any occasion to protect our President is pretty important, yes?” Jimin wondered with an arched brow and Jaebum quickly nodded in agreement.

“Well, I for one think that those measures are a great start,” Namjoon said.

“I agree, but we also don’t want people to think that the shooting has made you soft,” Sang-hoon pointed out.

“Right, but there’s nothing wrong with a little extra precaution,” Namjoon chuckled. “I know my wife would be happy for the extra peace of mind that it would afford her.” Jimin had to shut his eyes momentarily to stop himself from rolling them at how casually Namjoon had mentioned you, because Jimin knew that he probably only did that because Jimin was present. When Jimin opened his eyes again, he caught Sang-hoon eyeing him weirdly but he decided to ignore it.

“I am drawing up some more plans as well, which I’ll bring to you once I work out the logistics,” Jimin told Namjoon.

“Great, I’ll look forward to them,” Namjoon nodded curtly. “You’re all dismissed.” Jimin began to gather up his papers and binder while the rest of the security detail hurriedly grabbed their notebooks and filed out of the room in a quick line. Jimin was the last one to pass through the door of Namjoon’s office, making it about halfway down the hall to his office before he heard his name called.

“Park!” Jimin turned around and he’d be lying if he said that he weren’t surprised to see Sang-hoon walking out of Namjoon’s office and over to him.

“Yes Sir?” Jimin replied.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something,” Sang-hoon requested and Jimin nodded while shrugging.

“Sure, come into my office,” Jimin said, turning around and leading the way to his office, opening the door and allowing Sang-hoon to step inside first before following behind him and shutting the door.

“What is it that you wanted to speak to me about?” Jimin wondered as he walked around his desk, setting his binder down on top before lowering himself down into his desk chair.

“I wanted to talk to you about your involvement with my daughter-in-law,” Sang-hoon stated. “Whatever is going on between the two of you, it needs to stop today.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about Sir,” Jimin feigned innocence, making Sang-hoon scoff as he stepped closer to the desk and set his hands on top of it, slightly leaning over it towards Jimin.

“Don’t play dumb with me kid,” Sang-hoon warned. “I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive.”

“What, cheating on your wife?” Jimin guessed and he took a little bit of pleasure in the way that Sang-hoon’s eyes slightly widened, not expecting that answer. “If that’s what you’re referring to, then I’d definitely agree.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about kid,” Sang-hoon chuckled darkly. “Men like me, men like my son, we live a certain lifestyle that men like you could only dream about in your wildest fantasies.”

“Oh, you mean the lifestyle that includes manipulating your broken hearted daughter-in-law into taking back your son who doesn’t deserve her?” Jimin laughed. “Yeah, you can keep telling yourself that.”

“I didn’t manipulate her, I just helped her see what was right in front of her, which is what I’m trying to do for you,” Sang-hoon said and Jimin raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ok, I’ll bite,” Jimin shrugged. “What am I not seeing?”

“You’re not seeing the fact that your relationship with Y/N is not going to go anywhere,” Sang-hoon told him. “Namjoon told me about how she made a great, big declaration the night of the shooting that she was going to divorce him but she still hasn’t done it yet. Why do you think that is?”

“Because of the shooting,” Jimin answered without hesitation. “She felt bad about wanting to leave him after all of that so she needs time.”

“Or she came to her senses and realized that there was no future for her with a pawn,” Sang-hoon rebutted.

“A pawn?” Jimin laughed. “Do you think she’s using me or something?”

“Partly,” Sang-hoon responded. “That, and also the fact that she’s too damned nice for her own good and isn’t sure how to let you down easy so she just keeps stringing you along.”

“She is not stringing me along, or using me,” Jimin scoffed. “She’d never do that, not to me or anyone else.”

“Look,Y/N is the type of woman that needs constant and consistent love and attention and while my son is out running this amazing country of ours, he isn’t always able to cater to her needs,” Sang-hoon explained. “Now, where do you think Y/N went looking for that love and attention?”

“I know what you’re hinting at, and it couldn’t be further from the truth,” Jimin told him. “And plus, even if she did come to me looking for love and affection only, I’m pretty sure it’s because President Kim takes after you in regards to how you treat the women in your life.”

“They have an arrangement.”

“That you manipulated her into,” Jimin chuckled. “So we’re back to that point.”

“Look Jimin, you’re a smart kid. Even I know that much,” Sang-hoon huffed. “Assuming that she’s told you everything that has transpired between those two, do you really think any woman who’s been through all of that would even hesitate at leaving if she were serious about doing so?” Jimin stared at Sang-hoon for a few seconds before lowering his gaze down to his desk and thinking about his question, because Sang-hoon did make a valid point.

“She hasn’t left him because she’s still in love with him,” Sang-hoon answered for him once a few seconds had passed without any response from Jimin. “They’ve been in each other’s lives for almost 10 years now and have seen each other through the highest of highs and lowest of lows. Do you really think you can compete with that?”

“But she loves me,” Jimin murmured softly, almost as if he were trying to convince and remind himself at the same time.

“She probably does,” Sang-hoon nodded in agreement. “But just like Namjoon, just like me and hell, even just like you, she has an immense sense of duty inside of her. Part of her duty, as both Namjoon’s wife and First Lady of South Korea, is to be the backbone. Do you think that she’s really going to let everything fall apart at her feet because she fell in love and decided to leave?”

“No,” Jimin replied honestly.

“And you Jimin, you know what your duty is too,” Sang-hoon said and Jimin looked up at him. “So you need to decided what’s more important here: pursuing a love with someone who’s unobtainable, or your sense of duty to do the right thing?”

.............................................

“You’re an absolute idiot, but that’s just my own personal opinion,” Momo said as she moved about Taehyung’s office, shuffling past where you sat on the edge of the desk as you watched her look for some files.

“You think so?” You wondered and Momo nodded her head, opening up a file cabinet and literally almost sticking her entire head inside as she searched for what she was looking for.

“I understand that Namjoon has been trying, but it’s too late for trying,” Momo muttered. “He’s done you so wrong over the past year and he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“But we’ve been in each other’s lives for almost 10 years,” you sighed. “I do love him, even though he’s a dickhead.”

“And you can love him, no one’s saying that that’s wrong,” Momo replied, lifting her head after finding the files that she had been looking for. “But you have Jimin in your life now.”

“So you think that I should go with him?” You questioned, watching as Momo walked back over to the desk and plopped down in the chair that was behind it.

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you smile the way that you do when you see Jimin in over a year, and I missed it,” Momo smiled lightly. “He makes you happy and after everything that you’ve been through, you deserve to be happy and I wish you could see that.”

“I do see it, I just can’t get over everything that I’ll be leaving behind,” you admitted. “Namjoon is familiar, the life that I have as First Lady is familiar. Not to mention the fact that I have an obligation to not only Joon, but the country.”

“You can’t let that completely dictate your life though,” Momo replied. “You need to chose the man who you know for a fact you can be happy with, and you know as well as I do who that man is.”

“I do,” you nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself because you now knew exactly what you needed to do. You jumped down off of the desk and stepped over to Momo, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and hugging her tightly. “I love you so much Mo. Thank you for being here for me.”

“I’m your best friend, it’s my job,” she chuckled. “But I love you too. Now go get your man.”

“I’ll see you later,” you promised, standing up straight and quickly walking out of the office, immediately heading down the hall to Jimin’s office. You raised your hand and knocked on the door three times, before you heard Jimin’s voice from inside.

“Come in,” he said and when you opened the door, your jaw instantly dropped at the sight in front of you. All of the pictures of his family that had hung on the walls were now gone, along with all of the little knick knacks that had lined his desk. The only thing that was on his desk now were two large brown boxes, which Jimin was putting things into when you opened the door.

“What’s going on?” You asked as you stepped inside, shutting the office down behind you. Obviously not expecting to see you. Jimin sighed heavily before looking up at you.

“I’m cleaning out my office,” he said and you raised an eyebrow.

“Are you switching offices or something?” You chuckled.

“No, I’m quitting,” Jimin announced and your eyes instantly widened.

“What?”

“I’m quitting,” he repeated. “I handed my resignation in to President Kim about 30 minutes ago.”

“Did Namjoon have something to do with this?” You demanded to know. “I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”

“He had nothing to do with this, this is all me,” Jimin told you, putting the last of his belongings into the last box before using some tape to seal it shut.

“Well, why are you quitting?” You wondered.

“I can’t do this anymore Y/N,” Jimin said. “We were never meant to work, and I know that so I’m cutting my losses now.”

“Jimin, no,” you pleaded, watching in horror as he stacked one box on top of the other before picking them up and walking around the back of the desk. “I love you.”

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he said with teary eyes and you instantly shut your mouth at the sight. “Now, I love you too but we never had a chance in all of this. I never had a chance in all of this and I just need to accept that.”

“But you do!” You shouted.

“Remember how I asked you to be honest with me?” He said and you nodded your head. “Well, you just broke that promise right now by lying to me. We never would’ve made it and you know that as well as I do.”

“Jimin,” you whispered but Jimin just shook his head, and you knew that anything else you could say would only fall on deaf ears.

“Goodbye baby bird,” he murmured, stepping around you and opening the door to his office, stepping out and letting the door close shut behind him. As soon as you heard the door click shut, the dam inside of you burst and the tears that you’d been holding back started to stream down your face, the pain of Jimin walking out on you causing what felt like a deep crack in your heart.

.............................................

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Twin Snowflakes part 25: Date Night pt2

Atlas, city of dreams. It was a name post people overlooked and even more scoffed at. Still, it was a little hard not to believe the title from the way it looked; especially with the hundreds of lights illuminating the snow covered city. Veronica was no stranger to Atlas at night but she still couldn’t help but marvel at the sights passing by her window. They were almost as charming as the boy sitting next to her in the backseat, almost. Her mind still couldn’t believe this was happening. Veronica was going on a dinner date with Nick. How did that happen!? Well...she knew how it happened but it was still crazy! The situation wasn’t ideal but Veronica wasn’t exactly upset about it. Not in the way she had shown earlier. Veronica simply wished this event happened as a result of her efforts more than Valerie’s mistakes. Then again, all’s fair in love and war. If Valerie was going to be childish enough to hurt Nick, then that was all the more reason for Veronica not to pull her punches in winning him over. Not that she ever did, for the most part.

She looked over at Nick to see him sinking into his seat, eyes closed and body relaxed. “He must be more exhausted than he let on. She thought, listening to his breathing. He must’ve sensed Veronica’s gaze on him because his eyes opened seconds later. He caught the girl off guard by turning to her and smiling gently.

“Something on my face?” He asked.

His voice was a little deeper than before because of his short rest. The change made Veronica a little timid. “Uhh no. Hehe, your face is fine!” She uttered terribly. A snicker from Winter upfront made Veronica turn a little red. Her ears fell down as she realized how dumb that sounded. “I mean there’s nothing on it. That’s what I…yeah.” She really wanted to stop talking.

Nick sat up straight and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry I drifted a bit. I took a nap when I got home but I guess I was a little more spent than I realized.”

“No worries. A smooth ride puts me to sleep all the time. If you don’t mind me asking, where did you go? Back at the manor your mom said you went to go talk to someone?”

“Oh, that…” he looked in the rear view mirror to look at Winter, who looked back at with a smile.

“The lady asked you a question. Don’t mind me. It honestly isn’t as big of a deal as you think Nicholas. No need to tiptoe around it with your mother, uncle, and I. We’re adults after all.”

“I know. I just...I don’t know, feel a little guilty if I wasn’t careful about it.”

“You are just fine.” Winter reassured him. “To answer your question Veronica, Nicholas likes to visit his grandparents' graves to pay respects and ponder.”

Her ears perked up. This was news to her. Well, not entirely. She had known Nick liked to pray. He’s done it for as long as she could remember. Anytime things were rough or really important, Nicholas could be found giving a small payer. It was only later did she put together that the habit must’ve been formed during his sister’s time in the hospital. Though not religious in the slightest, Veronica could understand praying in a situation like that, but for his grandparents…?

“That’s a little strange, considering you never met either and one of them wasn’t exactly…” She wanted to pick her words carefully but it was hard not to call Jacques a piece of shit. “Let’s just call your grandfather a not so good influence.”

“Heh, that’s certainly putting it lightly.” Nick chuckled, “I guess I do it because...I’m a hit afraid. For me, I can’t imagine anything worse than passing away and the people left behind, the world, it just forgets about you; as if you had no impact on life. I wouldn’t wish that fate on even my enemies. Also, my grandfather’s wrongdoings in a weird way made my mom the person she’d be to have me and Summer.” He smiled at his own weird logic. “Gotta at least be thankful for that, right?”

His reasonings were flawed in some manner but completely understandable to Veronica. “Same rules apply to your grandmother?”

“More or less. I know it’s a little odd.”

“Yeah but it’s also very much a thing you’d do. Always trying to bring someone peace, it’s like your day job at this point.”

Nick shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

Winter began pulling over to the curbside, finally reaching their destination. A well known set down restaurant called Blended, known for its many different cuisines that specialized in ingredients that involved purée styled cooking; hence the name. Winter watched Nick get out of the car to escort Veronica, only for the girl to playfully roll her eyes as she got out of the car by herself.

“Well at least she’s consistent with her spunky attitude.” Winter thought, actually approving of the act. “You two be safe. Nick, don’t give your mother a heart attack.”

“How would I? This is just dinner, not a battlefield.”

“Knowing you, anything could happen.” She gave a little smirk before leaving them to ponder that diss.

Nick was both flattered and insulted. “Anyways…” he held his arm out which Veronica happily grabbed. The two went off to make their reservation. Tonight was going to be nice. Like Nick said, it’s just dinner. What could happen? The inside of the restaurant blew Veronica away. Elegant marble tile, pearl white cloths over the table, mood lighting,crystal chandeliers scattered about like if they were as cheap as lightbulbs, and the most divine scents imaginable. They had only entered the front door and yet her nose could pick out an array of ingredients in the kitchen. Veronica hadn’t seen the menu but she already knew there was gonna be a steak in front of her before this night was over.

“You know my opinion of Atlas might actually go up depending on this food?”

Nick chuckled at her comment and went towards the counter where a blonde woman in a waitress outfit stood at the ready. “Hello. Schnee, reservation for two. The usual spot please.”

“Why of course Mr. Sch-” the waitresses eyes quickly caught attention to Nicholas’s plus one. “Umm, Mr.Schnee? You know we actually may have a table on the private upper level if you like?” She said with a smile, maintaining eye contact with him.

“No thank you. Too close to the smoking area. I’ll take my normal table, the one by the window.” He said calmly. Nick took a moment to look at her name tag. He hadn’t seen this one before. “Sophia, that’s a nice name.”

Worry crept up on the corners of the waitress’s smile. “If smoke is the issue then may I recommend-”

“Sophia.” He said again. “Is there a reason in particular that I can’t have my window seat?”

“Well...it’s...just….” she fidgeted her hands, doing her best to not look at Veronica and cause a scene. “.....Right this way sir.” Sophia grabbed two menus and quickly went to lead them before Veronica put a hand on the menus. “M-Ma’am?” She stuttered.

Veronica wanted a good look at her but the waitress would barely meet her eyes. All Veronica could get was a side glance and a worked up heartbeat. “Nick, what do you usually drink?”

“Uhhh apple cider?”

Veronica took the menus out of Sophia’s hands. “Cool. Sophia, he’ll have that and I’d like water. Seeing how it’s a usual spot we’re going, Nick could just lead me himself. Thank you. Nick, if you would?” Veronica said, grabbing his arm.

“Okaaaay?” Nick didn’t question her orders. He grabbed the menus from her and walked through the restaurant. It was past the time most ate, but several clanging plates nearby told him there were a few late customers; about three people every five tables or so. Seeing them was easy even with dim lighting, but that also meant they saw him. A few looked up before continuing their meals while others stared for a couple seconds, forcing him to awkwardly wave as he went by.

“Sorry, usually it’s emptier by now. I come at this time to avoid drawing attention of people who always got a thing or too to say about the Schnees”

“Or the company they keep…” Veronica added. Their table was on the right side a little more than half way towards the back, right next to a window that showed the snowy streets and dazzling lights. A real winter wonderland sight. No wonder Nick liked this spot. She finally sat down. “By any chance do you know the owner of the restaurant?”

“Dyle, what about him?” He opened his menu and began reading.

“That waitress felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack. She really didn’t want us sitting here too. Care to guess why?” Veronica reached over and pressed the menu down with a finger, making sure that Nick saw her ears wiggle. “This is why I wanted a bow.”

“Point taken, but I remember saying screw anyway that has a problem with you. I’ve never known Dyle to have a problem with faunus by the way.”

“Was that because he showed that he didn’t or because you just weren’t paying attention?” Vee noticed the waitress walk over. Sophia once again avoided her gaze, in favor of Nick’s. She also made sure to place Veronica’s water on the table but handed the cider to Nick directly.

“Ready to order?” She asked.

Nick had noticed the treatment of the drinks and had been aware of the eye contact. He only wanted a little time to think about everything as a whole. He didn’t have Veronica’s hearing but he did notice the paleness of her skin. “Are you well?”

“H-Huh?”

“You’re pale. Sick, or spooked by anything?”

“Oh, I’m fine…” The woman fidgeted. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Sophia quickly left the table.

At the same time, Veronica took a sip of Nick’s cider. “Well at least this place has good drinks. Be sure to ask for a second. I’d ask myself but you know, playing things safe around our jumpy friend.”

“Yeah….” Nick flipped through another page. “So there’s either one of two things happening right now. One, our waitress is scared of you, or-”

“A certain somebody wouldn’t want her serving us. Me, is what I should actually say. Gee, I wonder who?”

Nick couldn’t deny this was odd. “Again, point taken. However, it would be weird how many times Dyle has served my family, who actively promotes faunus rights. We’ve held meetings with your mother here before and other faunus.”

Vee always loved Nick’s simple logic, but boy was it not doing him any favors tonight. “Lesson time, my dear knight. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt of you not thinking critically with how tired you are at the moment.” Vee propped her arm on the table and rested her head in her palm. “We aren’t our parents. We’re just their brats. Adults know better than to pick on the pups when they’re around their source of income. Also, how many of those meetings were in perfect view from the street?”

Nick paused for a moment, then looked at the view. “.....None.” He closed his eyes, mentally kicking himself. “They’re up top and away from prying eyes.

“Out of sight, out of mind. Out of the way of any potential customers who may think twice of entering. Translation, private seating is a sweet way of saying it’s embarrassing to have you front and center.”

“Veronica, I didn’t-”

“Mr. Schnee!” A jolly voice called.

The teens looked to the side to see a husky redheaded man in a chef’s uniform and a hat as big as his handlebar mustache.

“Dyle.” Nick said, noticing Sophia turning ghost white a few feet behind him.

“How is the young heir on this fine night!? Craving our pastries again I bet! Oh ho ho ho!” The man patted his stomach at his one witty remark. His olive colored eyes shifted to Veronica. “My, my, where are my manners!? I’m Head Chef Dyle! Clearly Nicholas forgot his manners too for not introducing his partner in crime this lovely night. Though I guess there’s little need whenever you have credibility among the higher class? That and those lilac eyes, I’ve served a few times in the form of one fiery huntress who loves my steak! I assume your-”

“Yes, I’m her kid. To what do we owe the pleasure of the head chef himself coming to greet us?” Veronica said, hiding her attitude with fake jolliness.

“One of my little worker bees had told me one of my favorite customers was here yet again. Imagine my surprise to see him without his typical plus one. I tell you, that Valerie sure can eat until I feel a hole in my wallet! Ho! Ho! Ha! I crack myself up. Have you met her.”

“Occasionally. Sports art my thing. More of a cooking contest watcher myself. When I realized I get to try your steak I nearly jumped for joy!”

“Why thank you! Nicholas my boy, you sure bring a surprise each and every time, but you should know better. A table in the back near this drafty window at this time of year, and at night! Up your game. I’d be more than happy to let you two enjoy the comfiest seat in the building. Nothing sets the tone like the second floor. I can get you a private table right this second!”

If that wasn’t a slap in the face, then Nick didn’t know what was. Has this really gone over his head? Nick wanted to believe this was a classic case of misunderstanding, yet that felt inn accurate the longer Veronica looked at him. There was no anger, only a reserved look that poorly hid the fact she was uncomfortable. Nick stopped feeling sorry for himself, choosing to do what his family did best; put on the face that commanded respect. The face of Atlas’s most powerful family.

“Dyle?” Nick spoke, dragging out the chef’s name like a sigh of boredom. Nick focused one the menu in his hands while giving the man an occasional glance with only his eyes. “Do you know why I come here? I’ll give you a hint.” He tapped on the window.

“The...view-”

“Nope.” Nick said firmly, closing his menu. “It’s the view and the respect I believed this place had for its customers. All of its customers, but tonight is making me think I believed wrong. You’ve never been this insistent whenever Valerie and I ate here. I gotta say I’m a bit concerned. Between your behavior and our waitress, I can’t help but feel like this has everything to do with my lovely date and her perfect features.”

“Perfect.” Veronica thought, bashfully folding her ears.

“Dyle, am I correct to reevaluate my beliefs in this restaurant. No lying now. I want your honest answer.”

The jolly man wasn’t feeling so jolly anymore. Dyle’s smile turned into grimace teeth and panicked eyes. “N-No! it’s just...just!” He looked around and through the window for any watchful eyes. “It’s business. Your family should understand th-”

“My family is no longer in the business of just caring about good business. Fail to understand that and you won’t have to worry about yours.” Nick stood up and finally looked at the giant of a man as best he could. He could see it, the resentment and frustration building within the chef. By all means who wouldn’t be upset when against a member of the most dangerous family name, blatantly throwing power around like if it actually earned. Nick understood the look. If Whitley taught him anything, it was that look does nothing but keep the hate alive. Flex power, but wield it generously.

“Dyle, I will choose to believe you are in fact a good man.”

“W-What?” He said, caught off guard by the tone shift.

“If this is strictly business then we’ll treat it like so. Now there isn’t any scenario where I don’t get what I want, but I’m more than happy to get what we all want. The first thing is you apologizing to Veronica. After that you will tell all your staff to refrain from enforcing whatever faunus rules you have given them; followed by creating the best steaks you can ever create for this table. Your work won’t be done though. I do expect a dessert that will blow our mind. It is only after creating such a grand meal with your hands that you can rest easy knowing that it will have a fairly generous contribution to its stability. Indefinitely.”

“You’re...going to invest here?”

Nick sat back down. “That depends on you. A pretty decent offer I’d say. Equality and a good meal in an exchange for financial stability. Is that good with you Veronica?”

“Hmmmm, I say we should sweeten our pot. An easy fix with an official change in this place's mission statement as a public service. One that states on paper that this restaurant is for all. This isn’t a compromise.”

Nick smiled. “You heard the lady. Is it a deal?”

Dyle stood, confused by the offer. By all means it was not expected or heard of. “So this is how a Schnee conducts business now?”

“This is how I do business.”

“Hmph! Then I guess it’s fortunate you have deep enough pockets to back it up.” The man removed his chef’s hat and bowed. “Please excuse my blatant disrespect, Mrs. Belladonna.”

“Apology not accepted, but a deal is a deal and who am I to not capitalize on it for my people? Just keep your end of the bargain and I’m satisfied.”

“Ma’am.” Dyle rose from his bow, swiftly exiting to the kitchen. Veronica took a sigh of relief. Finally the man was gone. Any longer and she would’ve said something worth being glared at.

“Sorry about all of this.” Nick said with a guilty look. “Didn’t expect this level of confrontation tonight. Here I was thinking I was taking you to a stress free spot in Atlas.”

“I don’t see why you’re apologizing. After all, you are the one who told me not to hide my ears. Screw what others think, remember?” Veronica gave him a comforting smile before getting another sip of his cider. “The occasional loudmouth or prejudiced jerk is nothing new. Still… thanks for sticking up for me. It’s usually me being the mouthpiece for others or myself. It’s nice not taking the lead.”

Nick propped his head up on his right hand “Glad to be of service.”

“I can see that. How’d you know the waitress was being forced and not racist herself?”

“I’ve never met my grandfather, but his handy work I’m too familiar with.” Nick said, staring out the window.

Veronica could tell she had walked onto a sensitive subject. Between him trying to avoid talking about the grave in front of his family, it was easy to understand what he meant. She wouldn’t press the issue any further. Now wasn’t the time to get heavy. “You know if you keep looking out the window like that, I might just faint from your handsomeness.”

Nick’s face turned red. He whipped his head around to see his date smirking at him. “Oh why you gotta tease me like that!? It’s embarrassing.”

Veronica could only giggle as the flustered boy did his best to hide his face. “That’s more like it. Just keep smiling for me. That’s all I need.”

xxxxx

While a dinner date had begun in the city, a house breakout had started half an hour later. Schnee Manor had gone quiet. Dinner had ended long ago and all adults had retired to their room. Summer couldn’t ask for more. The young huntress in training double checked her supplies before making the great escape. Black wig? check. Favorite pair of ripped jeans with a nice leather jacket; check and check. She put her guitar case on her back and looked in the mirror.

“And mom said no good would come from mentioning Bleiss? Well...I am sneaking out, so I guess she had a point.” Summer left her room and began carefully walking through the halls with her boots in hand. Can’t be too careful. Even the finest houses can creak. Thanks to Nick being out, the alarm wasn’t on. Escaping would be cake walk. All she had to do was pick an exit that wouldn’t be seen or heard. Pesky cameras and windows made that a bit more of a challenge.

“Mom and dad and probably still catching up with Blake and Yang, so I should probably leave through the-”

“Beautiful night for an escape.”

Summer whipped her head around to see Blake looking at her, arms folded and smiling. Summer’s face went pale. “Es-Escape!? Me!? No...I was just….”

Blake raised her eyebrow. “Just…?”

“Esssscaping- yeah I was escaping.” Summer held her head down in defeat. She really needed to get better under pressure. “How did you know?”

“I heard the sound of glyphs earlier when you said you were eating. Multiple glyphs, launching something outside and around the house. You know it might’ve been less suspicious if you decided to grab whatever you needed, and haul it back to your room normally? No way Yang or I would know if it’s out of the ordinary.”

“Hindsight isn’t always 20/20. Plus I like plans. This one appears to be a bust though.”

“Not exactly. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Blake winked.

Summer’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what? You’re okay with me sneaking out.”

“It won’t earn me any warm feelings with Weiss but it’s clear to everyone in and out of this house that you need an outlet. I do have some conditions however.”

Summer squinted. Now she knew where Veronica got her deal making skills from. “I’m listening.”

“First, cut your parents some slack and go to school every day until after the tournament. I heard you’ll fail otherwise.”

“Ugh, why does everyone want me to- okay, fine. I was planning on it anyway. Next one?”

“Please try and be Veronica’s friend.”

“I’m sorry, did you ask me the impossible?” Summer said, making Blake frown. “What!? It’s the truth. Friendship is a two way street and both lanes are closed.

“Listen, I know my daughter hasn’t been the nicest to you, and I know what I’m asking is completely selfish. However, I’m asking anyway. Maybe if she had actual friends to open up to, then things wouldn’t be so bad for her.” Blake sighed.

“Are you trying to tell me Mrs. Fashion designer with perfect skin doesn’t have a line of people trying to rub elbows with her?”

“Hehe, you’d be surprised… Besides, I figured you would know first hand people like that aren’t exactly friend material, Mrs. Teen Idol.”

Summer bit her lip. “Fair point, got me there.” She folded her arms and began tapping her foot. Blake meant well, but it really felt like she was asking Summer to move a mountain. Especially after the forest incident. “Really twisting my arm here.”

“Could you at least make a strong attempt? You both will be spending more time together after all.”

“Hmmm, fine.”

Blake squinted, “Strong attempt, Summer.”

“I heard you.” Summer turned her head away like the snooty rich girl regular folk saw her as. “Is that all?”

“One more thing.” Blake walked up to the young girl and placed her hands on Summer’s shoulders. “Never forget you’re not alone.”

“.....Yes ma’am. Thanks, I mean it.”

Blake rubbed Summer’s head. She’s grown since the last time they met, yet still oh so small. Not to mention a bit frail. Summer may have looked like her mother but Blake could see how much more gentle she was in comparison. Not that Weiss wasn’t a softie in her own right, but she also had an uncompromising defiance. Blake didn’t see that in Summer. Her defiance by all means could be compromised. With any luck and help, it wouldn’t be. “Okay, I’ve held you hostage long enough. Have fun and be safe. I’ll feel guilty otherwise.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be at my home away from home. If I don’t get lost in the music then I’ll definitely be back before midnight.”

“And if you do get lost in the music?”

“Make sure the bathroom window in the third hall downstairs is unlocked. Sneaking is easier at ground level. Bye now.”

Summer gave Blake a hug then rushed off out of sight. Blake couldn’t help but sigh. “Oh boy, maybe I’m the softie?”

xxxx

“Nick?”

“H-huh!?” The boy shook himself out of his daze. Veronica chewed another slice of steak while giving Nick a look of concern. Nick quickly tried to snap back to reality. “Something wrong with steak?”

“Oh something is definitely wrong, but not with the steak.” Veronica took a sip of her third cup of cider. “Maybe you can tell me what’s wrong? Nick you’ve been spacing out more and more ever since we got our entrees. Is a twin thing happening that I’m not aware of?”

“What? Oh, no, no it’s nothing like that. Sorry I’m just more out of it than I thought tonight.

Veronica nodded. “I see. Well… I guess that’s what happens when your crush hurts your feelings.” She watched Nick’s face turn from shock to guilt in no time at all. “You know it’s fine to talk about it right?”

“No it’s not. This is supposed to be a date and what kind of jerk complains about relationship stuff in front of somebody who has feelings for them? It’s not exactly dating etiquette.”

“Oh absolutely. Just thinking about another woman while there’s one in front of you is a real low blow. Frankly I am a bit bruised by it.”

“That’s why-” his words were silenced by the sweet taste of steak Veronica placed in his mouth.

“Let me finish while you chew on that, kay? Yeah my poor little pride is a bit bruised, but it’s not like I don’t already know where I stand when it comes to Valerie; much like how I know you’ve been doing well to try and set that aside. However, I’m here to tell you that’s flawed thinking. At least when you’re dealing with me. I’d much rather you talk about it with me than mentally check out whenever we’re together. So seeing how this dinner date is already far from conventional, let’s not beat around the bush a talk about the girl on your mind.”

Even though she was clearly being nice, Nick couldn’t help but feel like even more of a jerk! “It’s- it’s okay, really. We don’t have to make a big deal out of-”

“Ten minutes.”

“Huh?”

Veronica pulled out her scroll and set a timer. “It was your bright idea to have a ten minute unfiltered grace period between us. I’m calling in your ten minutes sucker. Deny it and I’ll never agree to doing it like you want.” She hit the timer. “Now spill your guts.”

His own system, used against him. Nick wasn’t sure if he should be happy Veronica remembered it, or upset. “Well played. Fine I’ll talk. Yes, Valerie has me lost in thought.”

“About what?”

“About a lot of things.”

“Nah uh, it’s something specific that has you upset. Might as well come clean now.”

“You’re really not gonna make this easy huh?”

“Nope! Tough love is tough, now speak.” Veronica smiled.

“Sigh, Val...made it seem like I was embarrassing to be around. That I stick my nose into everything. It’s not just her too. Summer said something similar to me butting in as well. The entire thing has been bugging me. Am I really that annoying to them?” Nick slouched in his chair. “Have been pushing them away?”

Veronica clicked her tongue. He opened up faster than she expected. “While I can’t speak much about you being embarrassing since I don’t think you are by any means; I can totally say you do make it your mission to be a helping hand in every situation. So yeah, you do butt in.”

The waitress came back and Veronica quickly gathered their dirty dishes to give to the actually nice woman. “All that being said, that’s nothing new Nick. You’ve always been like that. I’d say it’s actually one of your better qualities.”

“It is?” He said confused.

“Mmmhmm. I’ve never minded it at the very least. There’s a comfort in knowing there’s a helping hand in your corner. Plus it’s not like you blatantly ignore any request telling you to stop. You did give Valerie space when she asked for it after all. As for your sister, she’s all talk. I can tell just from reviewing footage and our short trip to the forest that Summer is quick to depend on you. If you ask me, she’s more annoyed at herself for that than she is at you.”

“I doubt it. They both gave me that same look of frustration. Especially Valerie. One minute she wants to be included whenever I’m in trouble but the next she’s telling me to take a hike. It’s pissing me off.” Nick rubbed his hand through his hair and let out a sigh. This entire thing felt like a complex math equation he didn’t know how to solve.

Veronica could tell by the look on his face how conflicted this made him. How conflicted Valerie made him. Needless to say, she was a bit envious. “Why do you love her so much?” She asked bluntly.

Nick’s face turned red. “Uhhh what?”

“I’m just trying to understand what makes her special. After all, Nicholas Schnee could have a girlfriend everyday of the week, yet he fawns over one. The same one since kindergarten. It can’t only because you’ve known each other for so long. What makes her special in your eyes?” Veronica knew she was practically asking to get hurt but she had to know. What was it that made Valerie different from her?

“D...Do I really have to answer that? It’s kinda sudden.”

“The clock has five more minutes on it and you have a girl willing to listen to gush over another girl. Money can’t buy you a scenario this sweet. Fess up.”

Nick took a long sip of his cider before taking an even longer breath. It would’ve been nice if he could do this for five minutes straight but that would be asking for too much. The only way out was through.

“It’s not the most complicated reason if you’re wondering. Growing up the way I have has had numerous blessings I won’t begin to look down on. Family, money, influence; all of that has been a joy. That being said, I didn’t really revel in being who I am as a Schnee until maybe four or five years ago. Everything I did or everywhere I went, a person would always watch what I would do. Nick is gonna go far. Oh he’s great at that, perhaps he’ll go pro? That sort of thing. Ice skating was just a hobby at first. I did it because it was relaxing and mom liked skating with me. I never paid attention if I was actually good at the moves I tried.”

“But...the people did?” Veronica asked, receiving a nod.

“I didn’t think much of it. I was only around seven perhaps? It actually made me happy. So what if a few people liked my routine? I was on the ice for fun and happened to win a medal. But then, as I kept on skating, a pressure started to form. More eyes started watching me. Waiting for the next medal, talking my skill up, muttering rumors about the contests I didn’t participate in, shaking their heads at my failures…they weren’t looking at me. Only my achievements and shortcomings. Ice skating stopped being fun, again. Mom was always quick to tell me to never pay them mind and eventually convinced me to take a break from it altogether. I could never skate again and she’d be perfectly fine with that.”

“Of course. She shared that with you as an outlet, not a sport. I think she knows better than anyone how cruel it is to make a child participate in performances just because they’re good at it.”

“Yeah, hehe, she really has the perfect playbook of what not to do with a child. It would be cool if it wasn't also sad. Anyways, the break was well needed. People eventually stopped talking and I skated in private. By then I’ve taken up some early combat stuff. Nothing serious. Fencing, a few things a bit more in the huntsman category but for more of sparring and building blocks of it all. Valerie had taken notice one day and got the biggest smile. Finally we can do some real horse playing! She shouted and cheered. Next thing I knew I was being driven to the gym with a hyperactive twelve year old who may have been a little too eager to hit her best friend.” He chuckled.

“And they say I’m feisty. So what? Did she hit you so hard you thought it was cool?” Veronica teased.

“N-Well it was cool, but that wasn’t the linchpin! We were having fun sparring. I was having fun. Learning how she did and showing me the ropes everyday was a blast, until one day I did something really cool I guess. Cool enough that people noticed; and kept noticing. People started talking again about what this might possibly mean for me and began watching my practices. I remember starting to feel the overwhelming stress build up again. It was frustrating thinking that this thing I do for me was about to be taken for the people again. I wanted to cry on the spot. Next thing I knew, Valerie had gotten on this platform to make herself taller and kindly told everyone that they were interrupting our training. To my surprise, they left. It only hit then that I’ve been so caught up in trying to avoid them or please, that I never once tried telling everyone to leave me alone. I asked Valerie how she could easily tell people that also expect so much from her to leave because they were in way. Why would I ever care about their input? I do what I want for me. They’re just along for the ride. S-”

BZZZ! BZZZ! BZZZ! Ten minutes had finally gone by. Veronica clicked her tongue. She reached to shut her alarm off when Nick reached for her scroll.

“It’s only right to finish a story this far in. Not much left anyways.” Nick shut the alarm off to continue. “As I was saying, Soon after that is when I began getting back into ice skating and really started participating for myself; figuring out my agenda in all things I did. Especially tournaments. That’s the gist of it. Like I said, silly.”

“No, I get. Valerie gave you back your enjoyment of your hobbies. Helped make a new lease on life. How could that not be a big deal? If anything it makes me irritated that you have such nice reasoning.” Veronica poked her lips out in a dramatically pouty way before turning head to the window. “Guess I should’ve figured as much. She did to you what you did for me. No wonder you like her. Still, I’m not phoning things in yet. Especially if those are the words she told you.” Veronica stopped herself from clenching the table cloth. “That hypocrite. Not caring about their input my ass…” Veronica let out a little chuckle. That was certainly informative. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“Yeah don’t thank me yet.” Nick put thirteen minutes on the timer and smiled. “I believe it’s your turn?”

Veronica’s pleased expression quickly turned to panic. “Wait, what!?”

“Why do you like me?” He asked without mercy. The flush on Vee’s cheeks was redder than wine. “Y-You can’t just ask a girl why they like you!”

“Oh but you can ask me about my romantic feelings without question.” Vee nodded shameless.

“Yep that pretty much sums it up. Besides it’s not like I asked about your feelings towards me. That’s embarrassing as hell.” Veronica watched Nick purse his lips and gave her a look that screamed “seriously?” It was enough to make her start combing her fingers through her hair and look at the coconut cream pie slice that the waitress somehow managed to put under her nose without detection. “I...specifics are bothersome to explain. Just understand that...Nick, you’ve…” she could feel her heart pound in her own ears. “You’ve given me a lot of strength, hope actually. In ways I can’t begin to explain. I’m grateful; dare I say blessed.”

Those words truly shocked him. It wasn’t everyday a term like that came from Vee’s lips. “Blessed huh? That’s a big deal coming from a nonbeliever like yourself.”

“And despite knowing that you still tell me how you pray for me. Not that I particularly mind that I’m in your thoughts regularly. Also it’s rude to just straight up say nonbeliever. I have beliefs. Now the feelings associated and to what the beliefs are is a different story. Thank you for the prayers nonetheless though.”

“Maybe one day you’ll pray for me, hehe.”

Veronica smirked. “I doubt any deity would heed the words. I’ll keep the praying business to the faithful.”

“Fair enough.” Nick took a scoop of ice cream off his fudge brownie and looked at the timer. “Seeing how you’re a bit resistant to tell me why you feel the way you do towards me, can you at least be frank with me by telling me why you’re so adamant about not getting along with Valerie or Summer?”

Very slumped over. “Of all the questions, you’re set on detective work?”

“This timer thing isn’t even meant for interrogation. I offered this as a way to vent without consequences but you’re the one who wanted to play twenty questions.” He finally took a bite of dessert. “Tough it out” He said, a warm smile on his face from the flavor.

“Sigh, guess I have no right to complain. I wouldn’t say I have any real personal grievances towards them, even though I have a few unpleasant memories of your sister harassing me when we were little.”

“We were five.”

“Well I was six and a hurt tail is still a hurt tail, but I digress. Those two, they’re not the kind of people I find myself liking very much. Summer always wraps individuals into her pity party by acting like she’s making a genuine effort, and then Valerie, sigh, there’s not a thing about her that doesn’t make me want to hit her. I know you like her and wouldn’t say she’s a bad natured person, but…” Veronica held her tongue before she overstepped. These were still Nick’s loved ones.

Nick on the other hand wasn’t satisfied. “Say it, what’s on your mind. Zero consequences remember?”

“You say that but it’s not like we’ll magically forget what we’ve said in this last twenty six minutes.”

“No, but I trust you won’t hold my words and secrets against me. Do you trust me? Good or bad, this is meant to clear the air. I’d be a hypocrite to not let you speak your mind after asking you to.” It was a bit brash but Nick reached for Vee’s hand and held it.

Veronica felt her own breathing slow down at the sight of Nick’s reassuring smile. Her eyes went to her pie to avoid his gaze. He was too disarming for his own good. It made her feel guilty for doubting, as well as relying on him the way she did.

“Valerie isn’t a good friend, not you and I, not your sister for that matter. Yeah she might help out because she’s a good person but she’s far too self centered in my opinion. I mean just take tonight for example. You’ve made plans with her that fell apart because everything you two do are on her own terms. What friend gets upset that another saved them in a training exercise, or uses a pet name that the other person doesn’t like!?”

Nick raised his eyebrow. “Pet name?”

“Summer hates to be called Princess, right? That could be a thing with me personally but with the way she gets so pissed about it I would think Valerie using it would be annoying. Yet she does it anyway. Like how she’s quick to try to act like she’s above something when she clearly isn’t. I-”

“Vee? My hand…” Nick winced, his hand being squeezed like a stress ball.”

“Crap…” Veronica immediately loosened up to look at it. Thankfully her nails didn’t dig into him but she did make his hand red. Veronica gently begins rubbing it in some pointless attempt to relieve the pain. “Sorry I… I shouldn’t lose my temper like that. Ugh I know better too. Maybe steak was a bad idea after all?”

Nick watched as Veronica became fixated on the light injury. Her ears had fallen down and the anger she had while speaking had vanished entirely. All she could do was rub his hand. “It’s fine, honest. I don’t even feel pain anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have felt pain at all. This is the second time I’ve hurt you.”

“Well...I did actively walk into a fight the first time. Faunus reasons or not, a person should expect to get whaled on a bit when breaking a fight up.”

Veronica knew Nick was trying to be nice and there was truth to his words. That still didn’t make her feel much better. “I guess there’s one thing Valerie and I have in common. We get you hurt for needless reasons that could be avoided.”

“Vee…”

“Hey, I know she makes you happy and I shouldn’t really try to persuade you to feel otherwise, but… I can’t help but feel like… if you were to ever allow it one day if you’ll look my way, because…Nick, I think I can make you even happier.” She gently held his hand with her trembling ones.

Nick couldn’t see her eyes but could see how the blush took over her. She wasn’t the only one. How could he not feel embarrassed when Veronica Belladonna, the most brazen girl he knew, was now currently holding his hand sheepishly while her tail swayed side to side. Thank goodness he had set a timer beforehand. The buzzer finally went off and Veronica snapped out of her trance, letting go. Rather than speak further, her pie became the scapegoat, getting devoured without interruption. Nick wanted to say something but even the work up to speaking made her face redder by the second. Besides, the timer hit zero. He had to respect the rules he made. A lot was learned within a short time.

“It’s been some time since we had a talk like that. Thanks, Veronica. I feel like I know you even better than before.”

“Just...eat your dessert, please?” She said, embarrassed beyond belief. How could she say something so compromising like that!? Claiming to make him happier than Valerie was bolder than she meant to be.

xxxx

The rest of dinner was pretty quiet. Both of them couldn’t think of any light topics to discuss after prying into feelings. It wasn’t awkward to speak but felt more, inappropriate, so to speak. Both desserts were finished and the chef had passed his taste test. Nick would keep his end of the bargain. However, the generous tip he usually left for all workers involved was purposely missing. The chef had lost the privilege entirely. The waitress would be in for a shock the next time she checked her savings. No need to punish those in the crossfire after all. Veronica and Nick left without saying a word to anybody.

The two of them walked down the sidewalk in the season's chill embrace. Veronica felt the chill winds creep down her thin dress. It felt colder than in the forest. Not even a single person or car was on the street! Nothing but an ever forming winter wonderland!

“Eugh! I know walking home was my idea but maybe I should’ve thought ahead?”

Nick chuckled. “Maybe so?” He took his dress coat off and draped it over her shoulders. “Better?”

“Yeah but you just got over being sick. You can’t afford to catch another cold.”

“Relax, I got sick because of stress. Temperatures like this are nothing to anybody who lives here. The cold is nothing in the face of a real Atlesian. It’s in our blood!”

“And central heating is in your budget. Speaking of which, shouldn’t that be on full blast in the winter!? I mean my goosebumps have goosebumps.” Veronica shivered.

Nick smiled. “I’m glad you asked!” He took Veronica’s hand and quickly rushed over to a building with an awning for them to be under. “There’s a reason I picked a reservation for today. It’s the night manual resets happen.”

“Manual resets?”

Nick nodded. “Yep! You’re right about it being super cold. The lack of people is a dead giveaway.”

“What’s up with that? I thought Atlas was a city that never slept? It’s like a ghost town now. Nothing but….actually…” Veronica looked around the streets, lamps, and every building. There were noticeable less lights. A far cry from the dazzling show she saw earlier through the window. “The heating system, it’s off.”

“Not entirely. A majority of buildings still have them on but yes, external heating vents get temporarily shut off and rebooted. It’s common in the winter since they have to run constantly. You didn’t think it was weird that it was snowing so steadily?”

“Now that you mention it, I guess it is. Everything was already covered in snow so I didn’t notice.”

“Most snow melts on contact but there’s no getting past it during the cold season. Heater or not heater, you’re gonna see snow fall.”

Veronica breathed on her hands to warm them up. “So why come out when the heaters are off if you can see snow whenever?”

“Because I’m not here for the snow. There’s only one thing Atlas gets to really witness whenever the heaters come back on, because the reboot forces the heaters to come back on at full blast.”

“What would-” Before she could finish, Veronica witnessed it first hand; the sudden burst of heat that washed over her body as the orange glow of heaters returned to pale white city. The previous atmospheric silence had been broken. Pit pat pit pat pit pat pit. The familiar brought Veronica’s attention to the streets. Right before eyes like magic, suddenly and seamless, the winter wonderland turned into rain. Lots of rain.

Any and all snowflakes melted before pitter pattering on the pavement. Rain was nothing new to her and neither was Atlas at night for that matter, but a rainy night lights in the city of Atlas? That was a different story entirely. It was if she was in a new kingdom altogether, the way the lights shimmered on the water in the air and on the ground. Atlas somehow went from looking like a snow globe, to a chandelier.

“Woah~” Veronica was floored. She extended her hand out. The feeling of frigid rain contrasted against the warm so much it made her jolt. “Ah! Man that has a bite to it!” She laughed.Veronica stepped out from the awning.

Nick, shocked by her actions, quickly grabbed her hand. “Hey, your dress!” He shouted with agency. Veronica did not bother with his words. Instead she pulled Nick into the rain with her as she laughed.

“Hahaha! What’s a little water!? I love the rain!! Between the heaters and a pour like this, I’d say this is more refreshing than the showers back home.” Veronica’s grin widened. She took hold of Nick’s hands and began swaying. “Come on, dance with me!”

Nick let himself get strung along into Vee’s antics. He caught her guard by pulling the two of them into a ballroom stance and began to waltz.

Veronica’s ears wiggled. “Oooo look at you Mr. Casanova, taking the lead like that.”

“You’re pretty upbeat for a cat in the rain.” He teased.

“Jokes on you, panthers love water, and people from Menagerie love the ocean. I do have a surfboard after all.” She leaned back to que Nick to support her back. Veronica dramatically stuck her leg out to do an over the top dip before Nick brought her back up, pulling her close.

“Nice moves.”

“You’re not the only one who has to learn etiquette. Gotta stay on my toes for the public too. Pretty easy with a tail for balance.”

Nick chuckled. He waltzed his cheeky date back over to the awning near a heater as she continued to laugh. “I could’ve sworn minutes ago you didn’t want me getting sick?”

“Well someone bragged about being one with the cold.”

“I didn’t say all that now. I’m surprised someone complaining about the cold gets excited to dance in the rain.”

“Yeah well…” Veronica moves even closer to Nick, until there’s virtually no space between them. “I feel pretty warm right now.” She said, looking up into his eyes. Maybe it was the heater, the cold rain, or the warmth from his arms now wrapping around her, but it made Veronica warm to the point of feeling dazed. It couldn’t just be her. Not when Nick’s face was its own shade of red. The two let the sound of rain surround them yet again. The smile Veronica had slowly shifted into an expression of longing. She was so close to him right now. Closer than she’s ever felt. His warmth, his cologne, his lips…; Veronica’s body couldn’t help but lean forward. Right...until…

Beep! beep! The sound of a car horn made both jump out of their skin. They looked to the street to see their waitress waving joyfully.

“Thanks for the tip!” She said emotionally as she drove off.

The surprise brought Veronica back to her senses to see Nick’s face flushed and embarrassed. As well as conflicted. Like how he was back at Penny’s lab. Veronica felt the weight of her actions hit her like a tank and quickly took a step back.

“Sorry! Silly me, hehe. Here I was telling you that I wouldn’t be too forward or force anything, then I pull this! Talk about embarrassing huh?!” There wasn’t a bone in her body that didn’t want to find a hole to hide in. How could she get lost in emotion again!?

Nick frowned. “Ver-”

“It’s fine! Totally my bad.” She could feel her own heart start to race from her recklessness. “Tonight has been nice. We should probably start heading back before-”

Nick took Veronica’s arm and shut her up by kissing her cheek before wrapping his arms around her tightly. Her body went a little stiff before eventually hugging him back.

“No date is complete without a little intimacy, right.” Nick said, doing his best to kill the tension. “Sorry things got weird. I should’ve spoken up. It’s not like I would’ve been upset.” He admitted. “I just...you know. But I hope this is okay at least?”

Rejection is nothing new. Veronica was ready for the sting. However, Nick’s words didn’t sting at all. In fact, Veronica could only find herself hiding her face in his shirt, enjoying this comfort. Her heart stopped racing and she felt calmer than she had all night. This wasn’t rejection. Not by a long shot. A to be continued perhaps?

“This is perfect.” She said, holding her crush closer. “Stay just like this for your date. At least for a few more moments.”

Nick smiled. “As you wish.”

Veronica may not have Nick’s attention like how Valerie does, but at this moment, Veronica had Nick focused on her and her alone. He was hers right now. Veronica couldn’t ask for more. This definitely was an unconventional date, clumsy and hardly what anyone would call romantic. Veronica would cherish it all the same.

xxxx

While the sweet sound of rain soothed one duo, another couldn’t hear it all, it being completely drowned out by applause with bubbling excitement. Tonight may be one of the coldest nights for Atlas, but for a warehouse in Mantle filled with young adults, passion burned in the form of a young woman in black about to conquer the stage with her guitar and vocals. Summer was ready to vent. While Eliza carefully observed from afar.

If she wasn’t here then she might not have believed it. With those clothes and confidence, Eliza was sure she was watching a stranger.“Summer Schnee, you and your brother are one surprise after another.”

The singer grabbed a microphone and looked out to the many eyes ready to cut loose. “ALRIGHT EVERYBODY LET’S MAKE SOME NOISE!”

Summer screamed, receiving nothing less than twice the excitement back. No time was wasted in playing how she played less. Tonight was her night. Problems could wait until tomorrow.

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #blake belladonna #winter schnee #eliza marigold #veronica belladonna

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hetacon · 4 years

Text

Prom Queen: Chapter 4

First || Previous || Next

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Word Count: 1,800

Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point

Warning: Swearing, small food mention, let me know if there’s anything I missed!

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Summary: “Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

(Make sure to read all the way to the end if you want my thoughts so far! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, my art, or writing! Enjoy the chapter!)

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Virgil started to spend more time with the popular kids after they got back to school, something he never thought would be happening. They were gossipy and didn’t really appeal to Virgil as overall people but Roman was their friend so he started to get to know them for the sake of his best friend. He didn’t even really know them honestly, they almost never talked about themselves or their interests or anything in terms of personal information, the conversations almost consistently focused on the drama going around the school that day. There was something new every time they went over. For a solid month, he and Roman would go chat for a minute or two before going off to find Patton and Logan.

That was actually what they were just doing that day when one of Roman’s friends got Virgil’s attention.

“Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

Virgil looked over to Madison if he remembered correctly, trying to hide most of his shock at the fact that she even addressed him. Not many of Roman’s friends acknowledged him much when they would go over but Virgil guessed they’d taken some interest in him. He had been coming over with Roman for quite a good while now, it figures they’d notice his presence at some point. He had to respond quick though, this chance couldn’t go to waste. “Uh, ok, what do you want to know?”

“What kind of music do you listen to?” Well, an odd question to start off with.

Virgil shrugged a bit. “Eh, just what everyone else listens to, you know? Not really anything in particular. It’s not like I really look for songs to listen to by anyone specific.”

Roman nudged him with a snort. “Since when has this ever been the case? If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re emo through and through,” he said, a certain fondness to his look. Virgil bumped his shoulder with a laugh back, fixing him with a playful glare.

“And what if I can like things that you don’t expect of me, huh?” Virgil asked with a slight tease. Roman simply raised an eyebrow but shrugged, letting the argument go without much more of a struggle. Roman wasn’t wrong though, he still listened to everything that he had before, none of it had changed despite what he said. Definitely none of what people usually listened to. He was never one to follow trends with music or otherwise and Roman unfortunately knew that.

“Do you do anything interesting?” one of the people joining the conversation asked.

“Things here and there, not exactly much. School is a drag, takes up way too much of my time to actually let me focus on anything even remotely interesting,” Virgil said calmly, trying to look casual. He hoped it was working, he felt like a nervous wreck. With a few laughs and a “Fuck yeah it is!” he mustered up the courage to add in, “I draw if that counts for anything.”

“Oh yeah? Mind if we take a look?”

Virgil nodded and rummaged through his bag, finding a leather bound book. This one happened to be his more serious one, he had another that was far more personal stashed away. Only Roman, Patton, and Logan ever saw that one, and not even in its full entirety. The personal one had gotten a lot more use than the one currently in his hands. Virgil slid the book over the table and he watched as it was opened to a page of really messy scribbles in the shape of a distraught person’s face. He’d remembered drawing that one, he was in the middle of history sophomore year having a panic attack but was too nervous to ask to step outside.

“Woah, this is cool man,” Tyler said as he looked over it, others nodding in agreement. They proceeded to flip through the pages for a bit while they took turns asking him more questions.

With so much talk, Virgil noticed Roman jump up suddenly, tugging at Virgil’s sleeve frantically. “Pat and Specs!” he explained before packing up his things frantically. “So sorry guys, I need to talk to them before we have to go to class! I’ll catch up with you tomorrow!” he shouted out as he started speed walking, Virgil in tow. Virgil barely managed to collect up his stuff before he was at Roman’s side, seeing the slightest crease between Roman’s eyebrows. As relieved as Virgil was to be away from all of the questions and potential judgement, he noticed Roman was in a big rush. He couldn’t really place why.

“Hey, you uh.. You ok? What’s up?” Virgil asked, relieved as Roman slowed down a little as they turned a corner.

“I just want to get to Pat and Specs, they’re our friends you know?” Roman asked with a bit of an edge before sighing. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you to uh.. Hit it off so much with them, I usually just say a quick hello really,” he explained.

“Really? You think so?” Virgil really hoped he was impressing the popular kids, they were Roman’s friends after all. If he was having luck with them, he wasn’t going to lose Roman that easily. He couldn’t possibly do that, not when he’d already put so much at risk.

“Yeah but anyone who doesn’t like you how you are is insane,” Roman said lowly. Virgil thought he saw Roman’s jaw clench for a second but he quickly looked ahead of them as Roman glanced over.

Virgil was tackled in a hug by Patton, causing him to smile as he hugged back. He didn’t smile for long though as the bell rang, causing Roman to sigh. He looked over, laughing a little awkwardly. “Ha, sorry Ro, didn’t mean to make us so late.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s ok, just means we’ll have to get here as soon as possible tomorrow!” With that, he and Logan started to talk as they headed to class together.

Virgil watched as Roman walked away from him and Patton and he frowned slightly before Patton was nudging his shoulder and nodding his head to the direction of their classes.

Virgil nodded back and started walking, burying his hands deep into his pockets. He really wished he had his usual hoodie to pull over his head and hide from the world. His bangs would have to do, giving him a good look at the sickeningly sweet pink he’d decided on a month prior. Who let him do that again?

“Hey, you ok?” Patton asked, silently offering Virgil a cookie. Snickerdoodle today, Virgil would’ve usually loved it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil told him. “I’m not hungry, thanks though.”

Patton looked at him with a worried look for a second before sighing, taking a bite of the cookie himself. “Alright Virge, if you say so. Who knows, maybe some rest is all you need, make sure you go easy on yourself!”

Virgil agreed, looking ahead of them.

He went home that day and went through the motions in a haze, glad when he finally got out of his disgustingly bright outfit. He stared blankly at the wall when he got a text from Roman.

“Hey, sorry I was so tense where we left things off.. I promise you didn’t do anything, that was all me.”

“What was up with that?” Virgil texted back.

Roman’s response took a minute before it popped up on Virgil’s screen. “I don’t know, I just didn’t expect them to really take such an interest in you. They can be a bit... Stuffy. Like, all the time, I much prefer hanging out with you, Pat, and Specs.”

“I mean, they’re your friends right? They asked me questions, I answered.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Some of your answers surprised me though lol, you are truly a dark and stormy knight after all!”

“Hey, I’m allowed to expand my tastes, aren’t I? You got me into some of your dumb musicals after all.”

“They are not dumb, take that back you jerk!”

Virgil snorted, hugging his pillow to his chest as he typed out another message. “Oh yeah? Make me, you pompous thespian drama queen.”

“I just might!”

Before Virgil could respond, Roman shot him a quick text reading “Shit, GTG, I need to run a few scenes before I sleep! Until tomorrow~!”

“Go chase your dreams of ‘professional make believe’ as Logan would say, night.”

As an afterthought, Virgil tacked on a red heart before blushing harshly, cursing into his hands. He really did that, no taking that one back now was there?

Either way, check in time. Roman was still his friend, they just had a normal conversation like two human beings ought to be able to have. While he seemed a little off-put by some of the changes Virgil was talking about, he didn’t seem to take it as a serious offense so a plus there. The clothes were horrible, Virgil still hated his hair, but he was doing this for Roman so he’d suck it up. Roman’s friends were starting to like him, they liked his art so that was good. Luckily they latched on to something he couldn’t lie about.

Just as Virgil was about to go to bed, another notification popped up on his phone, this time from an unknown number. Virgil stared at it for moment, his brow furrowed. He opened it though and read it.

“Hey Virgil, this is Madison! Got ur number from Roman’s phone lol, hope u don’t mind sweetie!”

Well, he kind of did mind but putting that aside-

“Hi, did you need anything?”

“Not rn but I might! Just wanted to have ur number just in case. Anyways, I’m going to bed, see u tomorrow!”

Virgil nodded to himself before he got one more text.

“BTW loveeeee ur artwork, keep up the good work bby!”

This was certainly... Bizarre. He didn’t expect to ever have the number of a popular girl in his phone but he never knew high school would be this insane. He’d survive this though, for Roman if nothing else. And if not, he just might lose Roman forever and never be able to forget about it for as long as he lives! Ok, breathe Virgil, breathe...

Things would work out, Virgil was going to make sure they did or die trying. Nobody, Roman included, could think to stop him now.

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More Prom Queen content huh? Anyways hey hey hey guys! How’d you like the newest chapter?

To be honest, I’m not sure how to feel about this one. I feel like all of my writings sound like they’re in an echo chamber. Like as if the events are completely isolated and don’t fit into an expansive narrative and existence. I have no idea if that makes a bit of sense, it might just be my depression tbh? It’s been kicking my butt more than usual.

But Virgil is finally getting noticed by the popular kids, woohoo! This obviously can’t go wrong! We shall see what Virgil will be getting up to with time!

As always, feel free to leave comments or send me asks and whatnot if you want to talk with me about the story! I’d love to hear from you guys!

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Taglist: @artissijules, @virgils-paranoia, @its-the-cat-queen, @myyoutubecorner, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog, @tssidesfamily, @shapa-likes-art, @isabelle-stars, @falsemood, @katlikethesword

#sanders sides #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #multichapter #prom queen #stan writing

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tizzymcwizzy · 4 years

Text

Can I see your sketchbook?

Adrinette April Day 13 - Scarf Reveal

@adrinetteapril

Ao3

"Hey Marinette, what are you drawing?" Adrien asked as he peered over her shoulder.

"GWAAAAH!" Marinette jumped up, tossing her sketchbook into the air, whipping her head around.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" Adrien held his hands up apologetically.

"Ah! You're okay- I mean-! You- it's- it's okay," Marinette sputtered, trying to regain her composure, and failing as her voice climbed higher and higher. She cleared her throat and leaned over to pick up the tossed sketchbook. "D- did you need something?" She smiled a little too wide and crossed her arms awkwardly.

"I- um," Adrien trailed off and looked away. "It's gonna sound stupid." He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't think anything stupid could come out of your mouth," she blurted.

"What?" Adrien turned back to her.

"I mean-! I'm- I'm sure it won't sound stupid!" She laughed and bit her tongue to try and prevent herself from saying anything else.

"Oh," he smiled gently. "Well, I just noticed that you looked really concentrated when you were drawing, more so than usual, so I got curious." He braced his hands on the back of the bench. "So, I was wondering if I could see what you were drawing, if you're okay with that of course," he looked down at his hands, then glanced up at her through his bangs. Wh- where those… puppy dog eyes?

"Huh," she blinked at him, processing what he'd said. "Oh!" She sat up straight and looked between the sketchbook in her hands and Adrien. "Yeah, yeah sure, here," she opened her book and flipped rapidly to the most recent page with nervous fingers. She pointed to the drawing and held it out for him to see. Marinette could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck as he leaned over her shoulder. She bit her tongue again.

"Wow," he breathed. "These are amazing, as always." He smiled and stared intently at the sketches. They were drawings for a winter outfit idea that had been dancing around in her head for days.

"You think so?" She whispered, cursing the heat that crawled up her face.

"Definitely," he nodded and glanced at her. The strict determination in the way he said it as if it was a fact made her stomach flip. He looked back at the sketches. After a while he spoke up again, "Marinette,"

"Hmm?" She hummed, tapping her fingers on the side of the book nervously.

"Can I look through your book?" There was a hesitant pleading in his voice.

"Y-you want to- me? Mine?" She pointed at herself and gawked at him.

"Yeah, if you're okay with it of course," he fiddled with his fingers again. "I know how protective artists can be with their sketchbooks." He looked away again. “Cause, you know, my dad.” Adrien’s father was the king of Parisian fashion himself, Gabriel Agreste. A fashion icon and her idol for a while.

"Uuh," she gaped at him dumbly before blinking. "Yeah, sure!" She thrust the sketchbook out to him. "Go crazy! I mean- you- you can look through it if you want." She smiled and cringed internally.

"Really?" His eyes lit up the way a childs does on Christmas Eve. Marinette nodded thoroughly, not trusting herself to coherently reply with words. "Thanks, Marinette." He took the sketchbook gently like it was a treasure and opened it up.

Marinette sat watching him and twiddled with her thumbs.

"Can I sit here?" Adrien looked up and pointed to the bench next to her.

"Oh, yeah, sure, sure," she swiped up her pencil bag and slid over on the seat to make room for him. And, even though there was plenty of room, he promptly sat next to her, not looking up from the sketchbook. He flipped through a few pages, gasping at her designs and chuckling at jokes and doodles scribbled in the margins. Marinette flipped her pencil in her hand and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye every so often.

"Wow," Adrien mumbled, tracing his hand over the page.

"Hmm?" Marinette perked up and glanced at him.

"Oh, I just," he blinked and glanced between here and the sketchbook. "There's so many of them," he whispered, showing her the page he was looking at. It was a spread covered in concept sketches for Chat Noir merch.

Marinette smiled. "Oh, well you know when Nino commissioned me for that Chat Noir shirt?" She leaned over and pointed at the drawings. "I got a bit carried away," she laughed. A bit was an understatement. She'd spent days examining Chat's costume during battle, trying to think of interesting items based off of his design. It caused the akuma battles to have taken longer than necessary, and earned her a few confused looks from her partner, but the finished product was worth it in the end.

"So you're a pretty big fan of his?" Adrien asked, a hint of shyness in his voice.

She laughed warmly. "I guess you could say that." Marinette was probably his biggest fan, being best friends with him and all. "Though I'd never tell him that, it would go straight to his head."

Adrien laughed and looked back at the sketchbook. "Right, you wouldn't want to inflate his ego." He shook his head and continued to flip through the book.

Marinette leaned over and looked at the book with him. "That one was inspired by this funny car I saw." she pointed at a dress. "It had this silver finish and bright red paint." Adrien nodded and flipped the page. "Oh, and these were for a challenge. I had to find a bottle and design something based off of the shape of the bottle." She pointed at a sketch in the top left corner. "My mom uses this one as a planter." It was a nice vase that sat on the windowsill in their living room.

They sat peacefully as Marinette explained her sketches and Adrien flipped through them, asking a few questions and making comments.

Then, he flipped to a page with designs for a suspiciously familiar blue scarf. Marinette's heart rate picked up speed as she snatched the book from Adrien's hands. "Oh okay, I- I think that's enough," she stuttered and clutched the book to her chest, looking away. Adrien's eyes were wide as he stared at her.

He blinked and sighed. "Let me see the book, Marinette." He put out this hand expectantly. She stared at his open palm. Her tongue was like lead in her mouth. "I'm not mad, okay." He bent over to look her in the eye. She only stared back, going red with shame. "Please, Marinette?"

Slowly, Marinette handed him the book. Adrien took it and looked at the sketches for his scarf. Of the scarf she made for his birthday, but through some slip-up Adrien was told that his father had given the scarf to him. "Marinette," he started, "you knew, didn't you? Why didn't you say anything?" His voice sounded so deeply sad, it broke her heart.

"I- I- did, know. I knew. I mean, of course I knew. I just," she cupped her face in her hands, taking a deep breath. "You were just so happy when you thought it was from your dad, I- I didn't want to ruin that." She huffed and pulled her hands away from her face. "But I know, not telling you is like the equivalent of lying to you and I'm super sorry that I didn't tell you, but like, how am I even supposed to say something like that?" She threw her arms out, exasperated. "Hey Adrien, sorry to burst your bubble, but you know that scarf that you got on your birthday from your dad who's given you the same dumb pen for the past three years, well yeah, guess what, actually it's not from your dad at all, it was from me, your silly classmate, Marinette." She facepalmed and groaned. "I'm sorry, that was mean." She peeked at him through her fingers.

Adrien was still staring at her, but not with the same underlying sadness as before.

"Adrien, you okay? Your face is really red," she asked, leaning closer to get a better look.

"I-!" Adrien blurted, looking away. "I'm fine," he exhaled deeply. "I just, I didn't know you cared that much," he whispered, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Of- of course I care, Adrien," she reassured. "I'm sorry again that I didn't tell you." She bit her lip. "I'm also sorry that your dad is a huge jerk and didn't get you a present." She bawled her hands into fists and frowned.

"It's fine, it's not that big of a disappointment anyways," he laughed, brushing it off. "And besides," his tone softened, "now I like it even more." He opened the sketchbook and traced a finger over the blue scarf.

"Hmm?" Marinette hummed and blinked at him.

"Now it reminds me of how much you care, which is a much more dear thing," he explained softly, smiling at her. "Thank you, Marinette."

"Buuh," she gaped as her heart did somersaults. "I- I'm glad you like it." She smiled back and pinched her arm. Not dreaming. He laughed and continued to flip through the sketchbook with a soft smile.

#ml #mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #adrinette april #adrinette april 2020 #day 13 scarf reveal #my writing #ml fic #mlb fic #ml fanfic #mlb fanfic

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lacetulle · 4 years

Note

Hey there! Aspiring fashion designer here! I'm getting more and more into fashion and designing/ planning more and more outfits and I was wondering if you have any tips to get more into haute contour and fashion in general. Your blog has really helped me get a grasp of what I like and I all around love it!

I’m happy this blog could help in figuring out what styles you like! There are a ton of different mediums to get into fashion! I’ve compiled a list of options via videos, websites, and books. So strap in, this is a long post.

Since you already have an idea of who you like, I always suggest reading up on that brand/label/designer and going through their archives. For me, when I realized how much I loved Dior and knew I wanted to learn more, it was overwhelming at times because the label has such a long history. If you really like newer labels, like Zuhair Murad, Elie Saab, Iris van Herpen, etc., it’s a little more manageable to read up on the history and designers just because they were founded in the ‘90s/‘00s.

In terms of websites, I have a few to talk about.

Vogue. This is the easiest avenue to get into fashion. I’m not knocking it, because I use it the most for photos, but as far as websites go, it’s the most dumbed-down. But I mean that in the best way! The features, trend reports, and runway news appeals to even the most casual fashion fan. Vogue focuses mainly on big name/commercialized brands (Dior, Valentino, Gucci, etc.) rather than smaller ones (like Guo Pei and Ralph & Russo, two big couture names these days, get minimal coverage with Vogue). Vogue is a great resource for runway looks...it was my gateway into studying older runway collections. All in all, in terms of websites, Vogue is the tip of the fashion media iceberg. If you want to get into the more meatier parts of fashion, there are better sites.

Harper’s Bazaar. Like Vogue, it’s easy to navigate and leans more towards the more well-known fashion brands. Pre-covid, they always had a weekly street style recap as well. They have great lists but stay away from the business side of fashion. I typically use Harper’s Bazaar for the street style/every day fashion inspiration and news.

Who What Wear. A great site for following trends. They don’t focus so much on brands, but it’s a great resource for seeing what’s trending and options to buy said trends. For example, Who What Wear is the first place I went when I wanted to find a list of brands who were starting to sell masks.

WWD. Supposedly most designers prefer WWD to Vogue coverage. And it shows, since parts of the site require a subscription. WWD is one of the more technical sites and could be overwhelming for someone who doesn’t really understand the industry. They talk about the comings-and-goings of creative directors, financial news, and general fashion trends/news. It also has runway recaps and photos, which is typically what I use it for. If you’re really want to be in the know with breaking fashion news, they do offer email newsletters as well for a more condensed version of the site. Also, a super helpful page I’ve had bookmarked, their fashion dictionary.

Business of Fashion. The name is pretty self-explanatory. BoF is another one of those meatier sites that could be overwhelming at first. It’s also one that has a subscription service. BoF has great profiles of designers, so I’ve used the site as my starting point when learning about someone new. The BoF500 also showcases anyone and everyone who has a hand in shaping the industry.

The Impression. The cheapest of the subscription sites and the one I had until I cancelled a few months ago (not because it sucked, but, you know…corona). I mainly used them for their runway pictures. They were so fast to upload them, with details and backstage footage. The big draw is the fashion week/runway photography, but the talk about street style, short films and ads from brands, as well as fashion trends. At the end of every fashion week (New York, Milan, Paris, etc.) the put together a recap list of biggest trends, top shows, top models, and break down the numbers. I love the site for its minimalism and whenever the industry decides to have fashion weeks again, I’ll renew my subscription.

Magazines: Most people would say Vogue is the holy grail for fashion magazines, but I don’t think it’s that great (at least the US version). Vogue Paris, Italia, and UK are better in my opinion. And just because I don’t think the print version of US Vogue is the holy grail, doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I have a subscription and read it every month. Other options I really like are Harper’s Bazaar (any country’s version), Elle, InStyle, and W.

Videos: Other than the first one listed (which can be found on Netflix or Hulu, depending where you live), everything can be found on youtube. And now i’m constantly getting fashion recommendations on youtube, so it’s an easy rabbit hole to fall into.

First Monday in May. I’ve talked about this documentary before, but it bears repeating. It’s a gorgeous journey of how the Met Gala and Costume Institute Exhibit was put together. It’s about the ‘China: Through the Looking Glass’ exhibit in 2015. They interview big designers about how China has influenced some of their collections, and takes on the debate of whether fashion should even be in a museum. It was the first fashion documentary I ever watched and only made me fall more in love with fashion (and want to see every fashion exhibition).

The September Issue. Vogue’s September issues are always the biggest of the year. This documentary follows the process of designing the famous September issue of Vogue. I believe it was filmed in 2007 or 2008 so it’s dated, and digital media has changed the game, but it’s a good watch to see just how influential and important the September issue is in terms of forecasting fashion trends for the following year.

Savoir Faire: Christian Dior Haute Couture Spring/Summer 2011. A 50 minute video on how one, just one, piece from the couture collection was designed. It’s a great insight on just how much work goes in to creating a couture collection.

7 Days Out with Karl Lagerfeld. Another great showcase of the week leading up to a couture show, this time with Chanel. The documentary follows the 2018 show, which is one of Lagerfeld’s last few couture shows before his death.

Battle At Versailles: The Competition that Shook the Fashion Industry. It’s no secret that Paris is the epicenter of fashion. The couture houses are all based there, so France is typically where you needed to be to be a world renowned designer. In 1973 French and American designers competed against each other and brought American designers into the spotlight. There’s an hour long documentary on youtube and there’s a book that I’ve linked below. I’ve seen the video and I’m currently reading the book, so you have options here.

Christian Dior: Designer of Dreams. A good look at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs exhibit for the 70th anniversary of Dior. This documentary gives a nice, condensed look at each of the artistic directors of Dior and showcases some of the most iconic Dior looks. I knew about it, but didn’t go see it. I only saw pictures, which were beautiful…but to see it all come together on video was a dream. They talk to Celine Dion for a minute at the end, and her words sum up my feelings best about Dior, “I would love to wear one of these dresses one day, maybe in one of my lifetimes, or every night in my dreams.”

Books:

Inside Haute Couture: Behinds the Scenes at the Paris Ateliers. A gorgeous book with tons of photos about the intricacies that go in to a couture collection.

Kate Spade New York: All in Good Taste. I originally bought it for my coffee table collection, but it has some great style tips.

The Battle of Versailles: The Night American Fashion Stumbled into the Spotlight and Made History. Just in case you’d rather read about this legendary fashion show than watch. I’m currently reading it, so I can’t give you my final take on it. But I’m loving it so far.

Dior by Dior: Christian Dior’s autobiography. Who better to tell you about the history of Christian Dior, than Dior himself.

Elsa Schiaparelli: A Biography. I’m a big fan of Schiaparelli and would love for her legacy to be more widely known. She was a very private person, so when this biography dropped I was excited to read more about her. Elsa Schiaparelli was Coco Chanel’s biggest rival and was a household name in her time, but most people know Coco’s name over Elsa’s today. This is a nice dive into Schiaparelli’s life, since most people focus on Chanel’s legacy (and let’s be honest, Chanel is very idolized, which is so unfortunate, given her Nazi ties, but I digress.)

Gods and Kings: The Rise and Fall of Alexander McQueen and John Galliano. I tend to rave about the designs by these two, so it’s a good look into their journey in fashion.

The Beautiful Fall: Fashion, Genuis, and Glorious Excess in 1970s Paris. If you’re interested in Lagerfeld (pre-Chanel days) or Yves Saint Laurent, it’s a great retrospective look at their rivalry.

Champagne Supernovas. If ‘90s fashion is something of interest, this book is a great read on how some big name rebels (McQueen, Marc Jacobs, Kate Moss, etc.) in the industry remade fashion as we know it.

Any of the Met Gala books: Camp: Notes on Fashion, Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty, Manus x Machina, Heavenly Bodies, etc. My first one was the McQueen book, and at the time I didn’t know it was the official book from the Costume Institute Exhibit. They’re not all hardcover coffee table-esque books, but if you can’t attend an exhibit it’s the next best thing. They’re all great in-depth resources for learning about a certain area of fashion. They can be expensive, so I wouldn’t suggest investing in them unless you’re truly interested in that specific aspect of the industry. This year’s exhibit - whenever it opens - is About Time: Fashion and Duration. The exhibition book is already available and I think it’ll be an incredible exhibit of how current designers pull from older designers and trends.

The Fashion Book. It’s expensive. It’s massive. And it gives you a wealth of information. It’s essentially an encyclopedia for fashion. It’s not just designers; it highlights models, high profile photographers, style icons, and all those who influenced fashion.

I know this was long, but these have been the resources I’ve used over the years. I hope this can help you along your journey and if anyone has other things to add, please do!

#ask me anything

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hopelessromanticvirgo · 4 years

Text

Number 134 [12]

Chapter 11

Trigger warning : mention of self harm.

Sander is defining nervous. He has no idea what to expect or what to look for. He has been sitting on this bench for at least ten minutes now, waiting for Robbe to come or to call. He only knows that he’s a boy and two years younger than him. He’s glancing around, trying to see him even if he knows he has no idea what he looks like.

There is a feeling inside him that keeps telling him that he’s making a mistake, that doing this is wrong but the other part of him which sees the solution and escape being with this boy is stronger and he gave in.

He has never felt like this before, the sudden rush and excitement, he can’t help but notice how much Robbe is actually helping him and he feels extremely guilty of looking at him the wrong way at first. But it’s not his fault, the life made him that way, if he won’t protect his self, he’ll get crushed and there is nothing more horrible for him than that.

Unfortunately, that already happened a few times and he knows what it feels like. And he’s terrified.

But there is something about this person that keeps him going. He’s already growing into him. He noticed little things at first, like how the first thought he had in the morning was if Robbe slept well and if he already woke up. Then he noticed, how he wanted to tell him literally everything that was happening in his day, how he was sending him sweet little, unimportant messages like “I just drank coffee” and “I’m about to go outside now” and “I won’t be able to answer you for a few hours” without any reason, he just wanted to let Robbe know what he was doing. He made his self believe that it was because Robbe had to check up on him and couldn’t ask for this kind of updates himself and Sander made the situation easier for him by telling him all this, but then it hit him, Sander was texting him all this, because he wanted to find another reason to talk to him.

Because of that, they have been talking nonstop almost everyday.

Sander doesn’t feel that bad about getting close to him since he can see that Robbe is doing the same, and no matter how much his inner demons want to make him believe that Robbe is only doing this because it’s his job, a little part of him hopes that he likes talking to him as well.

Sander finally feels like it’s safe to open up, finally realizes that maybe this time, it will be different, and he can’t help but get attached to the feeling of happiness he gets when he sees a new notification on his lockscreen from Robbe.

And he wants more.

He wants to meet him, to get to know him better, to really check if he’s the one Sander has been waiting for his whole life.

He hopes he is, cause he’s tired of feeling this way, alone and empty and maybe, just maybe, Robbe will be able to get some colors back in his life.

When he suddenly gets a call from him, his heart feels like it’s about to burst out. He takes a big breath and picks it up.

“Took you long enough, should I be worried?” His mind is spinning around with different possibilities of what he will hear from the other side of the phone. And when he hears a soft chuckle, he’s a goner.

“Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t decide which outfits to chose to impress you.” He can already hear a smile in his voice and his face is getting hot, fingers starting to shake from the excitement.

“Where are you?” Sander asks and starts to look around again, looking at everybody’s hands to see if he can guess which one Robbe must be.

“If it was a scary movie, I’d say ‘behind you’” Sander couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He imagined him really standing behind him, maybe teasing him into putting his palms over his eyes, whispering “guess who?” in his ear softly and the image sends shivers down his spine.

“Haha, very funny. But both of us know that it wouldn’t be you in the killer’s place.”

He hears sweet laughing and imagines how his face must look like when he laughs.

“So, you’re saying that you would be?”

I’ll be anything you want me to be. He wants to say but can’t, he’s too scared for that yet.

“Would you kill me, Sander? Is it why you wanted to meet up? To murder me in cold blood?” He shakes his head and looks down, this boy has no idea what he’s doing to him.

“Would you run away if I said yes?”

Before Robbe even had time to answer, Sander saw him. A boy, coming towards him, with a phone on his ear, a smile on his face and Sander knows, he got, somehow, a pretty damn lucky for this boy to make his way over to him.

And not only he’s the most beautiful boy he has ever seen, his whole body screams “Robbe.” The way he moves, the way he dresses, the way he walks and his face.

Sander can’t stop staring at him which made the other boy look over him and the recognition was seen in his eyes and he put the phone down, hang up and got closer and closer to him.

Sander got up on his shaky legs and tried to calm down his heart.

He should have taken his pills for anxiety to calm his self down but it was already too late.

“Hey.” He looks ever better up close somehow and Sander can only look him up and down.

He’s not sure if he’s awake or not but he’s sure of the smile that Robbe has is the only thing he wants to see for the rest of his life.

“Hi.” They stand in front of each other for a while and just as Sander is thinking that this is getting way too awkward than he thought it would, Robbe opens his mouth and says: “Are you going to hug me or not?”

Fuck.

* * *

They are sitting in front of each other on the grass, leaning on the trees. Robbe’s right leg is almost touching his and Sander has to look away or else he’s sure, he’s gonna have a very dumb smile on his face because of it.

He has never felt this calm with a person before in his whole life and it feels amazing to finally let go and talk without some kind of weird filter, afraid to show his true self. His whole body is filled with peace and enjoyment.

Robbe is talking about his studies and how much he loves it and Sander can’t help but feel so happy for him even if the half of the words Robbe is using doesn’t make sense to him at all. He’s talking with his hands and glow in his eyes and Sander can’t look away from it.

How is this possible? How did he get so lucky? He still has no idea, he’s afraid that it’s not a reality and all of this is happening in his head but when Robbe’s fingers touches his elbow which he has on his knees, Sander is sure, this is real and this is going great.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” Robbe says and looks away, blushing.

“Don’t feel sorry, I really like how you talk and your voice.” Which make him blush even more and throw his head back.

“You know what I really like?” He asks.

“What?” And Sander can only wishes that he’ll say ‘you’ but he knows it’s not a possibility.

“Your rings.” That makes Sander look down on his hands, still resting on his knees.

“What an observation.” He jokes and gets a weird tingly feeling in his heart that makes his whole body tremble with a thought that Robbe was checking him out and everything he had.

“Can I see them up close?” He puts his whole body close to Sander’s before he even answers and takes his hand in his own, taking each of his fingers and touches the rings on them, Sander tries so hard to hold his smile but fails miserably and looks at Robbe’s concentrated face, so close to his head.

The thought that Robbe only said he liked them so he could take his hand, is making him feel nervous and special. And he knows that’s probably now what Robbe had in mind but a man can dream, can’t he?

“They are really pretty.” He says and Sander thanks him but Robbe still isn’t letting his hand go and when he’s about to ask him what’s wrong after seeing how his expression changed, he follows his gaze, on his wrist, with his faded scars and some smudged paint which is still very visible no matter how many times he washed it.

Sander goes numb and can’t say anything but when Robbe whispers “are those - “ and can’t finish the question, he looks away from him but doesn’t move.

For some kind of reason, he doesn’t want to move away from him, even if he saw them.

Not waiting for his answer, it was already obvious what they were, Robbe put his fingers down from his knuckles and softly caressed them over the marks on his wrist.

“Is any of them recent?” He asked after a few minutes.

“No.” He whispered and no matter how much he wanted to undo this and never make Robbe see them, he still felt calm, like a huge weight got pushed out of his shoulders.

“Do you still get the need to do it again?” Robbe finally looks up to him, in his eyes and they are so soft, not mad or upset, just soft, supportive, a little bit sad but beautiful. He hasn’t stopped caressing his wrist with his fingers.

“Sometimes.” With a sudden confidence and feeling that Robbe wasn’t going to judge him, he spoke up more about it.

“See that fade colors?” Robbe nodded his head.

“I draw on them now, whenever I feel like doing - “ he didn’t finish, he didn’t have to, Robbe understood and he smiled up at him weakly.

“That’s amazing.”

“What is?” Sander’s confused voice asked. He has gotten many different things after people saw his wrist and the word ‘amazing’ has never been one of them.

“This.” He touched the faded paint colors over his marks and then looked over at Sander.

“And you.”

* * *

“There is this quote I really love.” Robbe said, their arms rubbing together while they are walking around. It’s already getting dark and Sander knows Robbe has to go but he isn’t making any move or says that he’ll go and Sander, off course won’t remind him.

“Oh which one? And remind me how many times you’re telling me quotes today?” He teased and Robbe rolled his eyes at him, and hit him playfully and softly on the arm which made Sander go a little away from his previous place but without a word, Robbe followed him, standing even closer to him than before, making his heart go crazy.

“If you don’t want to hear it, I won’t say it then.”

Sander wants to.

He wants to hear everything Robbe has to say.

“No, tell me.” He took another step towards him and now their hands were really rubbing on each other while they walked.

“Until we have seen someone’s darkness, we don’t really know who they are.” Robbe started and Sander couldn’t control his self.

“Until we have forgiven somebody’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is.” Robbe looked at him surprised when Sander finished the quote for him.

“What? Do you think I’m illiterate?” Sander joked.

“You’re full of surprises, did you know that?” Their hands were too close to each other and that was the only thing Sander could think about. He wondered what Robbe’d do if he took his hand in his own.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Robbe had his hand in his for almost ten minutes just a few hours ago.

“Somebody must have mentioned it before.”

Robbe laughed at the reference and looked in front of him, hiding his face a little bit.

The next thing Sander knew was that Robbe’s phone was calling and he was pulling it out of his pocket, he looked at the name and whispered “fuck, what time is it?” Looked at Sander, apologized and went a few steps away from him to answer.

By the looks of his face, Sander guessed that somebody wasn’t telling him a good news and when he heard Robbe’s voice got high, he knew that it was definitely not a pleasant conversation. He couldn’t hear what he was saying but when Robbe started walking back to him, still on the phone, he ended the call with “fine, I will get there as soon as possible.”

Sander realized that their night was finally over and he’d give anything for the time to go back or stop.

He hasn’t felt this good with a person before and found out that they were more similar to each other than he thought and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t judged, not for even once while they were together.

No, it was quite the opposite actually and he felt extremely happy and free and didn’t want this feeling to end.

The emotions he is feeling isn’t professional or friendly and he doesn’t want to admit it but it’s more personal and intimate, possessive and loving.

All the doubt he had about this boy suddenly went out of the window, disappeared because Robbe was perfect and Sander was sure, he was made for him. Something, god, the world or the universe created Robbe for him and him only.

He was definitely getting too attached and he doesn’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.

But when Robbe stood in front of him, he seemed like a completely different person.

The person Sander didn’t know.

He barely looked at Sander in the eyes before he mumbled “Sorry, I have to go and meet my boyfriend.” And walked away fast from him without a second glance, didn’t even say goodbye.

“Who?” He whispered to nobody, staring at Robbe’s back until he wasn’t visible anymore.

And suddenly, it all made sense now. The crying, the fights, the arguments, the birthday.

Robbe was going on his boyfriend’s birthday, he was late and probably got into an argument with him because of Sander.

Robbe was going to somebody else right now and the thought made Sander want to throw up.

All those secret glances and touches just meant nothing for Robbe and they meant everything for Sander at the same time.

His heart dropped in his stomach.

Chapter 13

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #social media au #number 134

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deeahzee · 4 years

Text

Chance of a Lifetime

Pairing: Lee/Carley

Summary: Weeks after a traumatic foster home experience, Clementine is called and is told a couple is interested in fostering her. Could this be her chance for a home?

A/N: NEW AU NEW AU, i’ve had this one planned for ages and i’ve finally completed the first part!!!! i hope you enjoy :,D btw this is a foster au, just in case ur curious. on my ao3 i have a better au description on the series so if you wanna check that out you can :<

Read on AO3

or read here on Tumblr!

They were fighting again. Downstairs.

Clementine could hear them through the floors. It sounded heated, as they usually were. Clem could’ve sworn something made out of glass was chucked across the room. She could hear it, shattering in an instant and swearing filling in afterward. She just wanted to sleep. That was her only wish.

Living with the Petersons was rough. One of the roughest foster homes Clementine has ever been in. They were found commonly strict and rude during the day, and brutal and violent during the night. Forced to work around the house Clementine got little to no time to herself, and by nighttime she could barely sleep due to the shouts and sometimes even screams blasting for the floor below her provided bedroom. She snuggles up tight into her blanket. The fighting was just growing worse.

Cursing. That’s all she could hear. Shit and fuck and dumb ass bitch. Common language spoken around the house. Never directly to Clementine, thank god, but to the adults it was daily. Dishes weren’t cleaned properly? You were called a whore. Laundry folded wrong? Useless piece of shit you were named. Every single day Clementine was shocked as to how these people were willing to try and adopt a child. A child that would most likely be living in a living hell, exactly like Clementine was doing.

A scream of agony erupted from below. That was a sound Clementine never heard before, and it had escaped from the man of the household’s lips, who usually treated everyone like they were pure nothing. Bits of silence passed before frantic apologies were spoken, and then a shout. A bang. Then nothing. The brunette had never been so scared. Her knuckles had turned white due to how tightly she grasped her blanket. Quietly she rose from her twin bed, blanket still in her grip, and tiptoed to the door of her bedroom. Her hand was shaking madly when she reached out to the doorknob and turned it to open the door.

The lightbulb from downstairs was flickering slightly, as if Clementine had just entered a horror movie. Blanket draped along her shoulders she ventured forward and descended the stairs, using baby steps the whole way down since she was so frightened, plus she didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to herself.

Finally she reached the main floor to the two story home and saw the light was still flickering. It looked to be coming from the kitchen, and silence still hung fresh in the air. It was almost unbearable. Taking tiny steps Clementine walked closer and closer, and eventually found herself standing at the door frame that separated the hall and the kitchen. Instantly her eyes widened in horror at the sight her innocent vision was forced to consume.

There on the tiled floor laid Mr. And Mrs. Peterson, both having gashes upon their foreheads and blood trickling down their faces. Some of it even got into their hung open mouths. Clementine screams. Louder than she's ever screamed. She feels her voice crack. She couldn’t bear to state at the sight, yet she found her eyes unable to peel away. Were they dead…? She couldn’t tell. She was frozen on the spot.

It had been at least four hours later when an ambulance and foster care arrived at the house. Immediately the two Petersons were driven to a hospital and Clementine was heading back to square one. Foster care. No matter what happened she always returned back. Always ended up in the same bedroom she was supposed to share with others, but always found her having it to herself.

All the other kids turned up being fostered for a long time, some even getting adopted. So why wasn’t she? What was holding Clem back from finally receiving a home? She holds back from breaking down into ugly sobs in the car. Her hope was running low. It was draining day after day. Her dreams slowly crushing into bits and pieces. She’ll never have a home, and that’s what made Clementine broken.

Sixteen years. Sixteen dreading years Clementine has jumped from foster home to foster home. And not a single one considered adopting the brunette. She was only a baby when her parents died, the foster care adults saying it was from some horrifying car accident. She didn’t want to believe it at first, but slowly as the years went on and on she accepted it. The fate her parents had to face and she didn’t.

One hundred fifty five. That was how many foster homes Clementine had been to. One hundred fifty five times she had been rejected for adoption. One hundred fifty five times she was forced to live under such harsh and bizarre conditions. Each house she entered those conditions grew worse and worse the more homes she stepped into. One child, that was it. A small girl with nothing but a small sack of hope at her side. Was it really that hard to take care of her?

Physical and mental scars littered Clementine’s body and mind. Every home she’s been in holds a traumatic experience that glues itself to her and her mind. Abuse was something she experienced a lot, physical and verbal. So many words she’s been called, so many ways of pain she’s been through. Clem can’t even remember the last time someone said “I love you” to her.

Clementine spent a lot of her time hidden in her assigned bedroom at the foster care after the Petersons incident. She didn’t have the courage to go join the other kids as they happily played out in the courtyard of the building, their laughs echoing from outside and bouncing back and forth off the walls of the room. How could homeless kids like themselves be so happy?

Her fingertips swerved along a dragged scar that sat on her left arm while she sat curled up upon her bed. How she got it she remembers too well. So many scars and nightmare-like memories, yet so little happy moments. Was Clementine really that unlucky? Was she really a black cat stuck in this cruel, unkind world?

“Clementine dear?” She hears a woman speak her name. Ms. Summers she recalls her name being. She didn’t even spot her at the doorway, let alone hear the door open. “Can you grab your bag? A couple is here and is interested in fostering you.”

The brunette’s head perked up slightly to the news. A couple wanted to foster her? She hadn’t heard those words be spoken to her in weeks. “They want to… foster me?” She asked, her voice faint.

The blonde woman nods, pushing up her blue framed glasses. “Yep, would you like to meet them? They already signed the papers and everything and are waiting outside to take you to their home.”

Clementine gave the woman a simple nod, racing off her bed to obtain her bag. She didn’t have much to pack, really only packing a blue jacket a past family bought for her and a pillow the foster care was kind enough to provide to her. Zipping the purple backpack shut she slips the straps onto her shoulders and grasped them tightly as Ms. Summers led them down the halls of the building.

Specks of color from drawings made by children in and out of the foster care popping out from the walls on their sides. Staff members every now and then passed by the two, only making small talk. Every window they passed children were seen outside doing some sort of friendly activity, like playing tag or drawing on the sidewalks with pastel colored chalk. Clementine was quiet the entire walk. She was still letting the fact someone wanted to care for her sink in.

Soon the pair found themselves in the front parking lot of the building. It was rather empty for this time of day. Staff cars were mainly littered all across the lot. One car stuck out the most however, a shimmering silver one with pitch black tires that stood out along with the car color. It glistened in the beaming sunlight and sparkled the whole parking lot. A couple, a man and a woman, stood close to the vehicle, too deep in a conversation to notice the two exit the foster building.

First Clementine took her attention to the man. He was tall, a beard worn on his face while a simple blue flannel hugged his chest and had a darker blue jacket topped over it. There was a certain glint in his eyes that struck out to the brunette the most, one Clementine rarely saw when a man fostered her. Kindness. Love.

Clem’s attention then turned to the woman. She was much shorter than the man, her outfit more put together and elegant. A knee length magenta skirt wrapped around her legs with a plain white blouse complimented along with it along with a fuzzy looking brown coat. Her short hair was half clipped up, and she along with the man wore that same shine in her eyes. That same look Clementine rarely saw. Could this be it? Her chance for a home?

Ms. Summers cleared her throat, which caused the couple to pause in their conversation and turn their heads to see the pair. Instantly smiles grew on the couple’s faces.

“Hello Mr. Everett, Mrs. Everett,” The blonde began before she settled a hand onto the teen’s shoulder. “This is Clementine. Clementine, this is Mr. and Mrs. Everett.”

“A real pleasure,” The woman, Clem learning to be Mrs. Everett, spoke. “But please, you can call me Carley, and that’s Lee.”

“My apologies. Well, she’s all yours,” Ms. Summers beckoned Clem forward towards the couple before turning to look at her. “You positive you got everything sweetie?” Clementine gives her a short nod. “Very good. I hope you have a fantastic time dear. And who knows, maybe this one will be it,” The blonde pats the girl’s shoulder sweetly before giving out her goodbyes and trailing back into the foster building.

“Well, looks like it’s just us three against the world,” The man, Lee, finally spoke. “Well kiddo? Wanna head home?”

Mentioning that word sent an unfamiliar feeling throughout Clementine’s body. Home. That word was so important to her. Something she was desperate to have for years. “Home?”

“Yeah, you know, the place you’ll be staying at with us. The place you may live at the rest of your-”

“Lee,” Carley’s voice cuts the man off. “Let’s not jump too far ahead.”

Lee visibly rolls his eyes. “You never know Carls, you never know.”

“I think she clearly gets the idea, right Clementine?” The adults turned to the teen, who was briefly staring at them as they exchanged conversation. Seeing their attention was now on her made her panic slightly, simply shrugging as her answer. The couple shared frowns to the silent response from the brunette.

“I can tell from you both you don’t wanna stand around here anymore, so why don’t we head home?” Lee broke the sitting silence around the three of them. “We’re excited to show you where you’ll be staying.” The last part Clem figured was specifically for her.

Clementine nods to the idea, letting the couple lead her over to the car. Lee opened the door for her and she slipped inside easily, patiently waiting for the other two to get in before deciding to speak up and ask some questions burning in her mind.

“How far away is the house?”

“Not super far,” Carley answers her question. “Is that alright? Or do you wanna go the long way?”

“It’s okay,” Clem speaks softly. “I don’t like long drives anyway.”

“Good to know.” Lee speaks as he drives out of the parking lot and onto the road. Clementine watches buildings and nature fly past out the window. Silence came back upon the trio. It was unsettling at times, them all wishing there was something to break away the awkwardness.

Clementine took the opportunity to look around the inside of the vehicle. It was fairly tidy, especially for a car that was the model for a family. She half expected to see a snack bag of some kind tucked deep within the seats of the car. But alas, she found nothing. All that caught the brunette’s eye was a simple pink water bottle left in one of the car door cup holders on Clem’s side of the vehicle. It didn’t look like Carley’s, and it definitely didn’t look like Lee’s. Unless it was the man’s, Clementine wouldn’t judge. Her main guess was they had a daughter waiting for them back at the house.

“You alright Clem?”

A nickname being formed for her, and being used, caused Clementine to stiffen suddenly, tearing her gaze from the bottle of water to see Carley was looking back at her. Eyeing her sudden change of state caused the woman to frown. “Sorry, should I not use that nickname?”

Clem was fast to shake her head. “No… it’s okay. I just… no one’s ever called me that before.”

“Clem? Really?” Lee joined into the conversation, not removing his eyes from the road. “Figured that nickname would be common for you.”

“Nope, past homes have just called me Clementine.”

“Well we’d like to change that. If that’s alright with you?”

The brunette nods, which seemed to make the adults in front of her happy. Something about her name having a nickname… she liked it. She felt like she was a kid that belonged. A kid that might possibly have a chance at receiving a home.

“Lee, I love you very dearly,” Carley suddenly spoke, her voice tickling with a hint of anger. Such a tone caused panic to fill in Clementine’s body. “But did you put deodorant on this morning?”

Lee audibly gasps from the driver’s seat before he lets out a small chuckle. “Of course I did! What, you saying I stink?”

“You smell like a fucking rotten egg sandwich made on a gloomy Monday morning!”

“Carley!”

Bickering. They were bickering, at least that’s what Clementine thought it was. She can visibly see they were joking, something she rarely saw couples who fostered her do. Such sight made the brunette let out small giggles.

“Clem, please tell me I don’t smell like a rotten egg sandwich.” Lee begged at the teen, which made her grin softly.

“I can’t smell you from back here, so I can’t say anything.”

“Ha! Girls win!” Carley cried out with a grin on her face as well. Her grin widened when she spotted Lee sticking his tongue out at the woman. Clementine couldn’t help but keep her grin present on her face. The fuzzy feeling continued to swim through her skin. She felt like she belonged, she had a family.

The rest of the car ride went by like a sunny summer day breeze, and soon Clementine found themselves entering a neighborhood, a neighborhood in which was gated shut by a large dark grey gate and had to have an ID out and ready in order to get in. Once past the gates the teen instantly began looking out the window and trying to guess in her mind where she would be staying.

House after house they passed, and the more houses they passed the larger they grew. Clementine’s eyes were at the edge of popping out of her sockets when Lee pulled up into the driveway of quite the house. The home looked as if it was transported from one of those Victorian styled murder mystery tales she read years and years ago. The cream colored bricks stood out along with the grey roof tiles, and Clementine half expected a butler of some sort to walk out and greet the three, but no one came out.

“Woah.” Was all that slipped out of the brunette’s lips. Carley and Lee smiled at the teen’s reaction.

“You like it?”

“It’s so… big.”

“Yeah, that’s our house,” Lee stopped the engine and swiftly took the car key out of the ignition. “You ready to go inside?”

Clementine looked back and forth between the two adults before giving them a brief nod. Easily the three got out of the car, and Clem got a better look at the home. Rose bushes stood tall near the front door of the house, and a decently sized fountain ran smoothly upon the driveway. She felt so small compared to it.

“You have a fountain…?”

“Sure do, had it installed a few months after me and Lee bought the place,” Carley unzips her coat. They weren’t even inside yet and she was already getting settled back in. “Ready to head inside?”

The brunette spares a look at the couple before she averted her gaze over to the house before them. It was so large… so overwhelming. Clem was sure she’d get lost in it. But it was her home for who knows how long, and she was grateful for that. Taking in a deep breath she nods, grasping her backpack tightly while Lee and Carley led the way to the front door. Clementine was about to enter a world she had never entered before, and she wasn’t quite sure if she was ready for it.

#twdg #the walking dead game #twdg au #twdg foster au #twdg fanfiction #twdg clementine #twdg lee #twdg carley #twdg carlee #carlee #slight tw #strong language #graphic description (sorta)#foster care #foster family #foster home

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 5 years

Text

Dating a tattoo artist

Imagine: being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

This was a fun idea I had. I hope you like it. Enjoy ❤️

Victor Creed

-he is here for it

-since his loooooonnnnggg life is well long he loves to tells stories of tattoo artists he met Japan, Brazil, New York, New Zeland...

-and you can bet that he will have the most elaborate tattoo you can think of since he said so

'You want a tattoo? From me?'

'Yes, I trust you.'

'That's the problem, Vic, you could end up with a dolphin tattoo on your arm.'

'.... Well... I still trust you?'

-after that, he was a little bug just to be on your good side which you took full advantage of

Being on top, commanding him? Sure

Handing you the remote even though it's next to you? Of course

Helping you choose an outfit even though you are indecisive and he has a short fuse? Hell yeah.

-when the day came you tattooed him a small quote that described him

"Tough times never last but tough people do"

(Robert H. Shuller)

'I love it. Thank you kitten.'

Loki Laufeyson

-Since he was in the cell for most of his life (in my universe that's the worst thing happening for him, he didn't die nor his mother) he doesn't know what a tattoo artist is he thinks that's an alternative art form he is supportive

-after you talk to him describing the definition of tattoos and the art behind it he is very much perplexed

'So mortals pay you to pierce their skin with black ink to paint...something????'

'Tattoo something on their skin and yes.'

'With pain in mind?????'

'Yes, and it looks awesome.'

-when he heard the story of your tattoo shop he decided to tag along to see the magic

-he saw how men and women tattooed others while they squirmed in their seats he chuckled at the sight of it

'Darling you could have told me.'

'What?'

'You torture people with the needle machines and coax them into paying you. Brilliant.'

'Suree~~~~'

-he stayed with you to help you with the pain giving without a medical license

'I'm a God. I'm above it.'

'No one is above the Inspection.'

Thor Odinson

-since his depression and weight gain he is very much informed of the world of MTV tattoo show "How far is tattoo far?"

-so he very much thinks that tattoos are a stamp of disgrace

-and keeping that in mind he is frazzled why are you doing a job like that

'You are a shame barer?'

'Shame-what...? Thor! I'm not. The show is a disgrace to the tattoo world.'

'Shame~~barer~~~'

'Just come with me and spend one day and see it for yourself.'

-Thor is reluctant much to his words but still, you sat him down in the waiting lobby he chats up the customers a.k.a big muscular dudes that are already tattooed from the neck down

'So... what is your shame? What horrible deed have you done to come here?'

'Excuse me!?'

'You must be here to condemn your shame by immortalizing it with a flesh sticker.'

-at this point, the muscle dude stood up ready to attack Thor but you intervene quickly

'Marc, stop!'

-the man turned around hiding his tight fist behind his back

'Y/n, already done? That's fast.'

'Marc, you know that you were released 7 months ago and you are still on parole. Come on. Stop it.'

'He insulted me and-and my tattoos. Your tattoos. You know how am about your work.'

-Thor hears that as stands up grabbing Marc's arm examining the tattoos in amazement

'My darling, I want that felsh sticker as he has.'

'.......... Sure........ Wait here. Let's go, Marc. I need to vent.'

Steve Rogers

-Steve knows what tattoos are since he has seen the stick and poke of his fellow soldiers but never a photorealistic tattoo in your portfolio

-he is very much intrigued how you made that look like a real person on someone's skin knowing very well there is no eraser

-loves to ask how do you achieve such colors that simply jump out or how you make a fabric that of a shirt or some patterns, he is armed with questions

-and since he is an art wizard himself he loves to have a painting duel with you, you paint on his skin with watercolors and he paints on the canvas

-that's one of his favorite moments

'What did you draw?'

'A dolphin kissing a penguin.'

'What?!'

'Just kidding I painted the building in Brooklyn where you lived.'

'Did I tell you how much I love you?'

Bucky Barnes

-this man thrives to see you fulfill your dream and passion

-especially when he picks you up, he parks the car exiting it and walking in seeing you talk to your employees and customers exchanging stories and laughs even though in the near distance is the buzzing sounds of the machine guns

-you see him and grab his hand giving him a peck on his lips as a cheeky grin is stuck on his face

-as you talk about your day he always asks the question

'Were there any wusses?'

-alluding to men who cried out form the stinging pain, eventually tapping out to take a break

'Yes, a big dude Marc. Ordered a neck tattoo with details. Tapped out in 15 minutes.'

'I knew it!'

-he enjoys in the hilarious stories you can make up... I mean tell

Bruce Wayne

-you already know the drill he has money he will give it to you but politely delined

-he tried to help with purest of heart but still, the answer was no

-he loved to see your shop filled with many customers as he walked incognito, sunglasses and a cap saying he wasn't a private appointment with the head tattooer

-Let's just say you were pretty much in tears of laughter as he reveled his face

'At least you tried, Bruce.'

-he loves to talk about tattoos and the process of healing if it's on top of a scar

-you are hooked on the conversation and even make him some sketches

'A huge dragon on your back with black and gold lining.'

'Okay but how about initials of my parents?'

'That sounds... Better much much better.'

-so the day of his tattooing comes you tattoo in his inner arm putting the letter T. & M. W.

'Thank you Princess.'

Clark Kent

-Clark loves to see the vast tattoos so much that he wants one but he knows that his body will "absorb" the tattoo too fast making it disappear in a few months maybe weeks

-but still, he loves to see how your gaze is sharp focused on the tattooing even when HE walks that is how much you are focused

'Alrighty, Marc you are done.'

'Thanks, Y/n, you are the best.'

-Clark also loves to hear the influx of comments of your artistry even if he's a little jealous

-he loves to see just how much you are happier to follow this insane passion

'You are an inspiration Y/n.'

'Why?'

'Because... You just are.'

Arthur Curry

-you already know that Fishman is tatted to perfection and he is here for a tattoo lover as well

-if you ever have someone asking for a Maori style tattoo Arthur will be a fair judge, that's what he says

Case#1

'Why do you want a Maori tattoo?'

'Um, sir beca-'

'It's Mr. Aquaman. Continue.'

'Oh, sorry. Mr. Aquaman, I want it because I find them cool.'

'Just cool? Do you think that the abundant culture of Maori people is cool? Go home boy.

Case #2

'You want a Ta Moko? Do you what that is?'

'Sur-sure, it's a tattoo of the Maori people.'

'Ufff... Do you know how much of a meaning Ta Moko carries? Why don't you go to the Yakuzas and get a tebori.'

'They would kill me.'

'Of course, and I'll whoop your uncultured ass with my two hands.'

-you turned to the now pale boy

'Run.'

-the man ran like the wind as the Aquaman caught him easily giving him a cultural lesson of Ta Moko

Orm Marius

-he kinda has a small soft spot for tattoos especially those with a loving meaning lover, family...

-and he likes to "inform himself" about it so he asks a ton of questions even asking what kind of tattoo would suit him

'I think a small red tattoo would suit your taste.'

'I like the tattoos who can hold audios.'

-with that sentence, he left you frazzled as you google and got the special ink kit gifting it to Orm as a present for being a nice guy and not killing anyone

-he immediately records his audio in secrecy and handing you the ink

-after you tattoo the ink you hand him your phone with the app to scan the audio

'Hey, Orm. I'm just reminding you that I love you. So much. It's Y/n if you forget... Somehow.'

-later that day you doused him with kisses

Joker

-that man oozes with tattoos *cough*damaged*cough*

-and you can bet that he wants more of them he brings into your home the whole tattoo parlor just so he can have a private session with sex mixed in

-you gladly tattoo him patching up some of his tattoos he has outgrown them

'Why did you tattoo Kick Me on your back?'

'I won a bet.'

'Are you sure you won?'

'For sake of this question I did.'

-you cover the kick me tattoo with a large red dragon with green eyes

-he stands up looking at the tattoo in the mirror

'Sweets, you just got a huge tip.'

Duncan Vizla

-for him, tattoo nowadays are dumb in his time tattoos were means of solidarity with people who are bounded by the same ink and gun

-but keeps his mouth shut about it not to offend your dream even if it's tattooing dancing hotdogs

-he loves to pass your parlor when he finishes grocery shopping just to see you in action

-he loves to arrive at the parlor if you are doing a night shift just to keep you safe and in good company

-he loves to bring you lunch and watch you eat it with such content and happiness

-it melts his heart and just wants to make you more food

-but as he is present for the good he is here for the bad

-if he is somewhere anywhere you just need to call him and he is there in a minute be it a drunken person not wanting to exit or an aggressive man trying to grope someone in the shop

-he is ready to kill them if you say so

'You okay sweetheart?'

'Um-yeah...Thank you Donut.'

'Nonsense. That's my duty.'

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