#I might do a few more soft doodles I guess? but I honestly don’t have that many ideas atm

[yuurionviktor]

Personally, I thought this was a banger outfit

#marcille donato #farcille #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin x marcille #dungeon lord marcille #dunmeshi #fanart #scull #things ive made #falin touden #kinda?? #I might do a few more soft doodles I guess? but I honestly don’t have that many ideas atm #I also wanna do a piece that’s more angst-focused but they’re harder for me to do #like composition-wise #so it might be too ambitious for me unfortunately #we will see #now enjoy this 🫴

[lumosandnoxwriting]

you wanting me tonight feels impossible || George Weasley

Title: you wanting me tonight feels impossible Pairing: George x Reader Summary: running into an old friend just might be the thing you need Warnings: mentions of cheating but it does not take place between George and the reader!  A/N: here she is, the next part! Honestly writing this fic gave me major nostalgia vibes, to me it feels like a fic I would have written back when i first started on tumblr and honestly im not mad about it.

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

“Y/N?”

She turns at the sound of her name, eyes widening in surprise at who she finds standing behind her. 

“Oh no way. George, hi,” Y/N greets. Her stomach flutters at the grin that spreads across his face, her mouth running dry at how good he looks. 

The last time she’d seen George they were seventeen, and he was flying away from Hogwarts with Fred by his side. Most people had been laughing, overfilled with joy at watching the twins get one last prank over on old Umbridge before they disappeared into the night. And Y/N had been happy too, but she also found herself a bit mournful. 

Her and George weren’t exactly friends she’d say, but acquainted in the way people from other houses were with each other after being in the same classes for seven years. They were friendly with each other in the halls and in classes, and the few times they’d been paired up for projects George had always been nice, and stuck around to talk with her about things unrelated to school or their coursework. 

And like most girls in their school, she had a massive crush on him. Y/N had spent countless hours pining after the Weasley boy, doodling hearts around his name and imagining what it would be like to run her hands through his soft ginger hair. 

So watching him fly away left her sad and mourning any chance she may have had with him. 

To see him here now, older and more refined but still as handsome as ever, has her heart pounding, mind already going places she never thought it would go again. 

“I thought that was you. How’ve you been?” George asks, holding his arms out for a hug. When she steps into his embrace he continues, arms wrapping around her middle. “It’s been ages, I never really see you around here.”

Y/N tries to keep her breathing even as George hugs her, not wanting to give away how much his casual touch is affecting her. She very much feels like that shy school girl she once was, no matter how many times she tries to remind herself that she is an adult now, and it’s perfectly normal for two acquaintances who haven’t seen each other in a while to hug. 

“I moved abroad after graduation,” she explains as they pull away, hoping the blush on her cheeks isn’t obvious. “I was doing some work with magical creatures in Australia, but I started to miss home.”

Y/N decides to leave out the fact that what really prompted her arrival back to England was the discovery of her fiance in bed with a woman she considered to be her best friend, figuring that’s more of a conversation the second or third time they see each other. If they see each other again. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up. 

“Don’t tell me you’re the new professor at Hogwarts?” George asks, a twinkle in his eye. When Y/N nods in affirmation, he laughs. “No way, that’s bloody brilliant. Fred and I are opening a branch of Wheezes up in Hogsmeade, I’m moving up there next week to run it. Looks like we’re going to be neighbors,” he finishes, nudging Y/N and giving her a wink. 

“Guess so,” Y/N laughs, trying to dampen the butterflies in her stomach. “It’s actually quite a relief to hear that, I was a bit nervous about being up there with no company besides my old professors. I’m glad to have a familiar face around.”

George’s grin widens. “I’ve gotta run, but it was really nice to see you again, Y/N. I’ll see you again soon.”

Just as quickly as he was there he’s gone again, just like all of those years ago. But Y/N doesn’t feel sad. There’s just one thing she’s feeling, really:

Hope.

-

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The grin that spreads across her face is automatic at the sound of George’s voice, and Y/N has to take a few deep breaths to center herself before turning around to greet him. She’s excited to see a matching smile on George’s face, and it only fuels the butterflies that have started to flutter in her lower belly. 

“George,” she greets, motioning to the empty seat next to her in invitation. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I was hoping I’d run into you,” George starts as he takes a seat, shoulder nudging Y/N’s. “I was starting to think you were just a figment of my imagination.”

She can’t help the flush that takes over her cheeks, hoping it can be chalked up to the heat in the room from the crowded bar. Y/N has been up at Hogwarts for almost a week now, and while getting ready for classes and settling into her new suite at the castle has been time consuming, she’s been avoiding heading into Hogsmeade. It’s not that she hasn’t been dying to run into George again, because that is definitely something she has thought about nonstop since their last chance encounter. 

It’s more like she’s been scared to see him again, scared that whatever old feelings their chance encounter dragged back to the surface aren’t returned. That she has been dying to see him again while George was off living his life, not giving Y/N and their brief reunion another thought. 

But even in just these few short moments since he sat down, Y/N feels all those fears fading away. George is the one who sought her out, the bar is crowded enough that she’d have been none the wiser if he snuck in and took a seat somewhere else to try and avoid her. And yet he is the one who came over, the one who took a seat and decided to settle in at her side. 

Y/N can’t help but hope that this isn’t one sided after all. 

“Things have been busy up at the castle,” she explains, not totally lying. With only one week left until students arrive for the start of the year, even Filch has been on edge - constantly mumbling to Mrs. Norris as he mops the Great Hall for the fourth time. “This is the first night I haven’t been so exhausted that I fell asleep right after dinner.”

George chuckles, taking a sip of the firewhiskey Rosmerta has just placed on the bar in front of him. “I know the feeling. We did a bit of a soft launch this week for the new store, thinking it would be less busy without all the students around so I would have a chance to work out all the hiccups and get my new staff trained, but it was crazier than anticipated. So now I’ve spent the last few evenings working overtime to get everything sorted for our actual grand opening next weekend.”

“Look at you,” Y/N teases, bumping their shoulders together in a playful gesture. “Never thought I’d see the day George Weasley was putting in overtime. You sure you’re the same George who used to sleep through transfiguration?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he drawls, giving Y/N a wink that makes her heart flutter. “I’ll have you know that I retained more information by sleeping through McGonagall’s lessons instead of daydreaming during it.” He pauses then, a more serious look taking over his features. “But in all honesty, it’s so different when it’s something you’re passionate about - ya know?”

Y/N nods when George looks to her for confirmation, prompting him to continue. 

“You’re right, in school I couldn’t be arsed to do more than what was required of me to not get kicked out. Though I guess it doesn’t really matter on account of the fact that Fred and I never finished anyway,” he pauses to chuckle and take another drag from his glass. “But doing everything for Wheezes, it doesn’t really feel like work. Like obviously at the end of the day I’m bloody exhausted and some days my whole body aches, but in the moment when I’m doing it, or when I stop to think about everything Fred and I have managed to achieve, I don’t really mind it at all.”

Hearing George speak so passionately about his work makes Y/N fall just a little bit more in love with him, and at the end of his speech she has to take a sip from her own glass to give her some time to think of something to say that’s not some kind of love confession. 

“I’m really happy for you, George. You’re clearly passionate about what you do, and I’m glad that you found that for yourself.”

George’s cheeks flush, and he takes another sip to try and hide it. “What about you, Y/N? Have you found your passion?”

The way he mutters passion makes Y/N’s toes curl, and she prays to Godric that the shiver that runs down her spine isn’t noticeable. 

“I thought I did,” she starts, shifting uncomfortably. She figured this conversation would come up eventually, but Y/N had been hoping she’d have more time to reconnect with George before airing out all of her dirty laundry. “The work I was doing in Australia was incredible. I could swear some of the creatures out there were straight out of a muggle fantasy novel, they were nothing like we’d ever learned about at Hogwarts.”

“So then why move back here?” George prompts when she hesitates to continue. 

“I came home early from work one day, one of our dragon’s eggs had hatched, and my boss let everyone go home to celebrate. And when I walked in I couldn’t find my fiance anywhere, until I went into our bedroom to change and he was there. In bed. Railing my best friend.”

The noise George makes causes her to pause, and Y/N gives him a sad smile before continuing. “I loved Australia, but suddenly I just really needed to get the fuck out of there, you know? Like it’s a huge continent and yet the only way I felt like I could put enough space between myself and that situation was to leave. So when McGonagall reached out about the position at Hogwarts I said yes and didn’t look back.”

“Holy fuck,” George breathes after a moment of silence, draining the rest of the liquid in his cup. “I’m not gonna lie, Y/N, that was the last possible thing I thought you might say. But holy fuck.” He gives her a look, motioning for Rosmerta to refill their glasses. 

“I’m sorry those dickwads did that to you, cheating is probably one of the worst things someone could do to you,” he continues once their cups are full again. “I’m sorry about Australia too, I can’t imagine having to leave Wheezes behind, it takes a special person to walk away from that.”

Y/N shrugs, desperately trying to trample down the butterflies in her stomach at George’s casual compliments. No matter how many times she tries to remind herself that George is just being a good friend, her brain can’t help but interpret his actions as something more. 

“I mourned the loss of my relationship and Australia for a bit, but I don’t know. Something about being back home at Hogwarts just feels right.”Something about being here with you too, her brain adds unhelpfully. “I mean, if I had stayed in Australia I never would have ran into you that day,” she chides, playfully bumping their shoulders together. 

The grin that spreads across George’s face is earth shattering, and he lets out a laugh as he raises his glass. “I’ll drink to that. Cheers, Y/N, to old friends and new beginnings!”

As their glasses clink together Y/N can only hope that her new job at Hogwarts isn’t the only new beginning they’re toasting. 

-

“Well I must say your workplace looks much more fun than mine,” Y/N jokes as she comes up behind George, giving him a grin as he twirls around to see her. “And miraculously it seems much louder as well,” she continues following a roar of laughter. 

“Y/N!” George greets excitedly, his smile stretching across his entire face. “I was hoping I might see you here today.”

She can feel her cheeks flush, and takes a deep breath in to try and quell the butterflies in her stomach. “Of course, there’s no place I’d rather be on my first day of freedom.”

Since the day students arrived at Hogwarts, Y/N has barely had time to breathe - let alone sneak down to Hogsmeade. Between planning her lessons, actually giving those lessons, grading assignments and fielding student questions and visits to her office, the only thing Y/N has managed to do once she retires to her quarters in the evening is pass out face first into bed. And while her and George have exchanged a few owls here and there since their last encounter, nothing beats actually seeing him in person.

So when McGonagall asked for staff volunteers to chaperone the first Hogsmeade trip of the term, Y/N’s hand was first in the air. She’d much rather spend her Saturday meandering through the little village than facilitating weekend detention. And if she happened to wander into the new shop along main street that’s run by a familiar ginger boy - then so be it.

“I’m honored,” George responds. He gestures wildly with his hand, taking a step closer to Y/N so he can lean in closer. “Let me give you the grand tour.”

George leads Y/N around the shop then, pointing out different products and explaining what they do. He keeps a hand pressed to the small of her back to keep her close, and the heat of his palm sends tingles radiating through her body. She’s mesmerized by the way he talks about his work, and Y/N is almost too focused on watching his eyes twinkle that she’s not even sure what he’s actually saying most of the time. At one point he even leans in to whisper in her ear so she can hear him over the noise of the store, and the feeling of his breath brushing her cheek sends a wave of shivers down her spine. 

It seems like only a matter of minutes before Y/N and George end up back where they started, and much to her surprise and joy, George doesn’t make a move to pull away. His hand stays firmly pressed against Y/N’s back, and she takes the liberty to lean in even closer to the ginger man. 

“So,” George murmurs, lips barely brushing against her hair. “What do you think of the place?”

“It’s great, George,” she answers honestly, still in awe of everything Fred and George have managed to build over the last few years. “You can tell how much you really care about what you do, and the creativity George, your mind is incredible.”

A light blush coats George’s cheeks as he waves away Y/N’s praise. “Oh stop, it’s not like I’m a professor or anything,” he teases, giving her a nudge. “I’m just a silly guy with a brother and a dream - that’s all.”

“George,” Y/N admonishes, nudging him right back. “You really are brilliant, and anyone who’s ever made you doubt that is a git. What you and Fred have done is amazing, you’ve taken your passion for something and turned it into this empire that does nothing but bring joy to people. That took a lot of hard work, dedication and skill. It’s incredible George - truly.”

Neither one says anything, just letting Y/N’s words hang heavy between them. The noise of the shop has faded into the background, electricity so heavy in the air Y/N can feel it tingle on the tip of her tongue. George starts to slowly lean down just as she starts to tip her head back, their bodies moving closer of their own accord. 

Eyelids fluttering closed, Y/N can feel George’s breath ghost across her lips - the only thought in her head a quietly whispered “finally.” 

Just as suddenly as they came together, Y/N and George separate as a worried voice calls out. “Professor! Professor, come quick! John and Thomas are fighting again!”

“Duty calls,” George sighs, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. He lets his thumb drag down across her jaw, pausing momentarily to lightly grapes her chin. “See you soon?”

All she can manage in response is a nod. Taking one more moment to mourn what could have been, she rushes away from George, cursing those damn kids to hell.

-

“Excuse me professor - do you have a moment?”

Y/N’s hand pauses mid scribble, fingers practically snapping the quill she’s holding in half as she looks up to find none other than George Weasley standing in the doorway to her office. The smile that spreads across her mouth matches the one George is wearing and she pushes the papers she’d been grading, gesturing for him to come in. 

“I think I may be able to spare a moment just for you,” she teases. Y/N stands up from behind her desk, watching George closely as she comes around to stand in front of him. “How in the hell did you get in here?”

George chuckles, stuffing his hands into his packers as he gives Y/N a shrug. “Turns out the secret passages Fred and I used to sneak out of the castle are just as helpful when trying to sneak in to it.”

Y/N tuts, shaking her head as if in shame. “George Weasley sneaking into Hogwarts. What would Fred have to say about that?”

“Fred snuck out plenty of times to go and see a cute girl, I reckon he’d understand me sneaking in to do the same.”

George’s boldness surprises Y/N, and she suddenly can’t make eye contact as her cheeks flush pink. A single finger comes to rest on the underside of her chin, slowly tilting Y/N’s face up so she and George are looking at each other once again. Her body feels electric as their eyes meet and a shiver runs down her spine. 

“Hi,” George greets breathily after a moment of silence. The smile he gets in response causes a torrent of butterflies to erupt in his stomach and he can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. 

“Hi,” Y/N responds, voice barely above a whisper. 

If you had told her all those years ago that someday she’d be standing here right now with George Weasley with his hand pressed against the side of her neck as his thumb skates across her jaw line she would have called you crazy. It seemed impossible that George would even give Y/N a second thought, let alone sneak back into the castle for just a moment with her. All of her dreams are coming true - and Y/N is too tempted to pinch herself to make sure it’s all real. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” George starts. The words move quickly out of his mouth, as if he’s trying to get them all out before he loses the confidence he has managed to scrounge up. “Like since that moment I saw you at the potion shop all those months ago. My one regret from our school days was that I never got the nerve to ask you out. And then when I never saw you in the shop or around Diagon Alley I figured I’d missed my chance. So when I saw you that day, standing in the middle of a shop I’d gone to hundreds of times over the years it felt like, I dunno it felt like.”

“A second chance,” Y/N finishes for him, voice lit with disbelief. 

George grins, giving a small nod. “Yes, exactly like that. And suddenly you were every thought that occupied my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about running into you again, and the interactions we had in school, what might happen between us now that we’d be living ten minutes from each other. You were just on a loop in my thoughts.”

“It was probably stupid of me,” George continues, eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “We’d had one conversation after years of not speaking and we were never really friends at school but I couldn’t help but feel-.”

“Hope,” she finished again. “And it wasn’t stupid of you, George. Because I felt the exact same way. Seeing you that day made me truly believe that taking that job at Hogwarts was my opportunity for a second chance. A second chance at finding my dream job, of finding my true home, of finding true love. You made me feel that George and I-.”

Except whatever Y/N was about to say disappears from her mind, as George takes the opportunity to interrupt her this time. Without a second thought he finally closes the distance between them, their mouths slotting together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other. Her hands find his shoulders as his find her neck, angling them so he can kiss her deeper. 

And there’s still so many things they need to talk about and figure out. But in this moment the only thing Y/N can think about is George, and this weird but beautiful thing they’re about to discover. 

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley fic #gw #harry potter fanfiction #golden #midnights: an anthology

[nad-zeta]

Vincent - Better together

Fandom: Ikevamp

Pairings: Vincent x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff

Words: 1100+

Comments: Eeeeep so ill let yall guess who this is for hehe! Eeeek so excited! Whooop Whooop! //dances around ❤❤ ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:

Oh, how you were truly a sucker for getting roped into all sorts of time-consuming tasks. You were too kind, honestly, and you worked far too hard. Your latest task? To grade the various exams of the learners attending the makeshift school founded by Napoleon and Isaac. To be honest, it wasn’t even your task to start with; it was fostered onto as the result of a bet lost.

Lessons had been learned the hard way, NEVER EVER challenge Arthur to a friendly wager, as you would be so lucky to leave with more than the socks on your feet. Regardless, the task allocated to him was now shifted to you, unfortunate really, but alas, what were you to do.

You sat at your writing desk burning that good ol midnight oil, clock tick ticking away. Naturally, neither Napoleon nor Isaac wanted to grade the students’ papers as that would be too biased—or that was the lame excuse they used—but you knew the truth.

Not that you minded this kind of work, it reminded you of your part-time job back home, the fond memories washing over you of helping out lecturers and students alike.

But this, this was different, this was hell! You must have read the first paper over and over, hells if you could only understand what was written. Chemistry, math, and the theory of relativity. Just how old were these kids, heck you studied these subjects at a university level and still, the words seemed like gibberish?

After the third paper, you were practically banging your head on the table in frustration; the least they could have done was given you a decent memo to follow. Losing all hope and succumbing to the darkness, it appeared as though the universe had heard your silent prayers and sent to you your very own ray of sunshine.

The soft knocks at the door were like a God sent, with Vincent peeking into your room, gentle blue eyes finding your own, ”oh, if you’re busy, I can always come back later,” his soft voice spoke with hints of hopefulness. 'NO NO NO, don’t leave me alone with these papers. I might just go mad', you wanted to shout out in desperation, but instead, you shot a weak smile over in his direction, gesturing for him to come inside.

“Nah, I’m just grading these papers, but if you are not busy, I’d love the company,” you offered, hoping, nay, praying he would stay. It had been a while since the two of you had spent some time together, with him being busy with painting and you, well, we all know Sabastian is a slave driver.

You mentally danced for joy when Vincent indeed did take up residence beside you, curious china blues gazing at the papers sprawled before you. “Need some help?” he offered, picking up one of the papers to examine the contents.

“How much do you know about maths and science?” you prompted

Vincent scratched the back of his neck, blue eyes never once losing their sparkle. ”Nothing! But I’m willing to learn or help out any way I can,” he affirmed cheerfully, tilting his head to the side, trying to decipher the string of numbers and letters.

His sunny features clouded over the longer he looked at the paper, and you could tell he was just as much out of his depth as you were.

Just then, an idea popped into your head, ”oh, I know! How about I mark, and you count them up and write the final score!”

“I can do that!!” he exclaimed happily, clouds dispersing and sunshine illuminating the room once more.

And so you marked and Vincent... drew?

You watched Vincent from the corner of your eyes, counting up the marks and charting them down in a little circle. His brows furrowed in concentration, voice barely above a whisper, letting go of a little sigh, “oh, this won’t do.” Honestly, his hands moved to their own accord sketching out cute little doodles next to the circled score.

You noticed he had been taking a while with each test handed to him, but you assumed he just double/triple checked his counting and final tallying of the scores. Not thinking much of it at the time, it was only after the last test was marked and handed off to him that your eyes dared to drift across the table to see what he was up to.

They widened slightly in surprise as you struggled to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Cent? What are you drawing,” came the curious question, after watching him doodle out the smiling sunflower with the words’ Good Job’ neatly written beneath

Vincent’s face bloomed into a bright smile as he proudly held up the newest motivational doodle, “well,” he started to trail off, “you know how some of the students did really badly?”

You nodded, humming thoughtfully as you urged him to continue,” I just thought it would make them sad to see they did so terribly, so I decided a little sketch might cheer them up.”

Oooh, bless his little angel heart, for only Vincent could be so sweet. You smiled back at him, eyes falling to each of the papers to take in the various little motivational sketches and messages left for the students to find. Although soon, your eyes found one test in particular that piqued your interest.

A test in which the student managed to score a near-perfect score, you held up the paper in confusion, “but, what about this one?”

“Ah, well, you see, I thought it would make the students who achieved top scores happy to receive a little sketch in acknowledgement of their hard work,” he continued to beam with pride.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “so what you’re saying is everybody gets a doodle?”

“Jip”

You almost had to laugh; it reminded you so very much of an Oprah show. You get a sketch; you get a sketch; everybody gets a sketch. “You are honestly too cute, Vincent,” you beamed at him, collecting the paper into a neat pile, shaking your head with a chuckle.

Vincent returned your smile with a sunny one of his own, taking your hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. “You are the cute one,” he said in all seriousness, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

You rested your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and simply enjoying the moment. After a few seconds, you peeked your eyes open to gaze up at him, “hey, vincent? Thanks so much for helping.”

With a brush of his soft lips against your forehead, he spoke tenderly, closing his eyes as he reaffirmed his love for you. “I promised you, didn’t I? Whenever there is a problem, I will always be there to help find a solution together.”

#ikemen vampire vincent #vincent fic #vincent van gogh x reader #vincent van gogh #vincent x reader #ikevamp vincent #vincent

[tinyboxxtink]

"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 1?*

So this is interesting:

So "Not My Yacht" was my very first fic. Like, I'm talking VERY VERY first.

So when I started asking around about ideas for a new series, a few of my lovelies went through my one shots and this story and "Doodling" got some good votes.

So, I decided to include the one shot and just added to it for a POTENTIAL new series. We'll see how this chapter goes over.

Also I'll be including Rita Calhoun in this for the FIRST time ever, so I may need assistance from @storiesofsvu to get her voice right. I did my best here. I'll be honest I've never really watched her, just that one where that guy blackmailed her or something.

Also Also, if it wasn't obvious enough this is obviously the beginning of the SVU episode "Her Negations".

I don't want to give anything away because I haven't even really thought that far, but I'm 95% sure this is going to turn in a William Lewis situation fic. So...pretty dark. I'm just warning you NOW.

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

And yes, the results are in. There is a part 2!

You breathed in the salty air of the sea of the sunny South Hampton shore; It was a beautiful day for a yacht party.

You walked along the pier as you got closer to your boss’s boat: The Crime Wave. Her husband’s idea of a funny name she claimed as she had invited people from the office to this soiree. You were lucky to even get an invite, just being the assistant to the owner of the law firm. “Who else is going to help me dodge boring conversations with men who just wanted a "free ride” on the bosses boat?“ She had teased you; or at least you hoped she was kidding.

You really wanted to just relax and mingle among the elite lawyers of NYC, seeing as you wanted to be one of them someday.

You saw your boss, Rita Calhoun waving you down as you reached the dock space.

"Ah! There you are, for a minute I thought I’d have to mix my own drinks!” She laughed with a wink. You laugh nervously, unable to discern if she was kidding.

“Calm down sweetie, I’m a big girl. Besides, I like to make them myself, strong,” she laughed again, patting your shoulder. Crap had your face looked that panicked? Keep it cool!

“Go ahead, enjoy yourself. I’ll be here, making sure none of those damn punks tries to sneak on here for free booze,” she scoffed, nodding to a group of highly dressed teens playing chicken on the shoreline.

You nodded with a half laugh, stepping onto the yacht. It was a decent size, a second level deck and a very spacious main level. Not a lot of people had arrived yet, so you decided to pick a spot on the yachts back bench area before all the seating was taken. You began removing your over clothes revealing your swimming wear when you hear Rita greet someone else.

“Ah, Barba. You know we have flare guns on board,”

You turn to see the ADA of New York, Rafael Barba. He’s dressed in a windbreaker and what could be either a dark red or salmon polo. You realize Mrs. Calhoun is referring to the almost neon yellow color of the windbreaker, and you can’t help but giggle. It must have been way too loud because they both turn to you which caused you to immediately shut up and go back to undressing and laying out your towel, but ever so slightly still honed in on the conversation.

“You can never be too careful Rita, who knows how many enemies I’ve made in this town; someone might throw me over,” he smirked.

“And anyone here could make it look like a very convincing accident….even my aspiring protege over there,” Rita nods over to you, knowing full well what you were doing.

Barba turned and looked at you, your body frozen in mid towel thrust. You didn’t know whether to throw it over yourself or just run off the boat right there.

“I know it’s an awful jacket dear, you don’t have to keep staring at him.” She called over to you. God why did she have to be so….her.

“Jesus Rita give the girl a break, or did you invite her just to torture her on unbillable hours?” Barba scoffed with a half smile, walking over to you.

“Is it really worth the minimum wage to put up with her?” He asked.

“Mmm…it’s more for the experience, honestly.” You replied surprisingly smoothly.

“Oh….well I mean I could give you the experience without–” He started but was interrupted by your boss’s loud exclaiming.

“Yeah I’ll BET you’d give her experience Barba! Stop hitting on my intern and mingle with the adults.”

If you could dig a hole straight through the boat into the ocean you would do it right then and there.

“…..Without THAT.” He rolled his eyes, lightly flipping her the bird behind his back. You see her respond with a laugh then turns her attention back to the guests boarding.

“She’s probably been drinking since she got on the boat, yeah?” He asked you.

“I…I don’t know I just got here….” You managed to squeak out as your towel strayed from your hands. Barba grabbed it and helped you reposition it on the bench.

“Kinda windy for a yacht party, but Rita will take any chance to celebrate anything remotely resembling a boost to her ego. Am I right?” He chuckled, before sitting down on your towel.

“Just to keep it from blowing away, do you mind?” He asked, gesturing for you to join him. You nodded a boisterous “NO”, plopping next to him on the bench.

“I’m Rafael Barba,” he extended his hand to you, which you took and shook gently, praying to God he didn’t notice you were literally shaking. You had probably had the biggest crush on him since you started working with Mrs. Calhoun, he was constantly in her office challenging her with warrants and favors.

“Oh yeah I know,” you blurted out, mentally facepalming immediately.

“I see….” He raised an eyebrow. “And you are….?”

You were about to answer when his phone went off. He answered it putting one finger up and mouthing the words “one second.”

“Barba. Yeah….what? Seriously, Olivia? On a Sunday?!” He groaned into his phone with an exaggerated eye roll. He raised his hand and ran it over his face begrudgingly as he talked.

“Yeah….alright, fine. Yeah I’ll be there, give me an hour. I’m in the Hamptons. Because it’s my day off, Liv! Do you think I lock myself in my office over the weekends like a vampire in a coffin? Yeah…I’m sorry, I just…” He glanced at you.

“I was enjoying my Sunday.” He gave you a small sad smile.

“Yeah. Ok. See you soon.” He hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go back to the city. Don’t let Rita push you around too much, okay?” He chuckled, rubbing the top of your head like a puppy. You felt your face scrunch up in annoyance, seriously? He thought of you as a kid?!

He obviously noticed, and quickly held out his hand again very sternly.

“Sorry, future counselor.” He said in an overly serious tone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Again. Like an idiot.

Relieved he had fixed his faux paux, he gave you one last beautiful Barba grin as he jogged over to Rita and told her something before nodding to you once again, then walked off the boat and disappearing down the pier.

Your boss sauntered over to you, a shit eating grin across her face.

“Well Cinderella, you sure kept that cool.” She gestured for your phone beside you.

“Be sure to tell him your name this time,” she winked, handing it back to you. You glanced down at it as she walked away; she had added a number to your contacts.

“BHole Barba.” You laughed out loud. Nice. Maybe she wasn’t such a horrible boss after all….

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

By Monday you still hadn’t had the balls to text Rafael Barba. You had just stared at the number in your phone, imagining all the possibilities contacting him would lead to. You may have gotten so far as planning your summer wedding in the Hamptons, but nobody needed to know that.

But you had chickened out and left it alone, and now you were sitting at your desk typing up a memo for Rita when you saw him come waltzing through the door.

“Ah, Cinderella!” He smiled at you.

“Hey…” Your mind went blank, you couldn’t think of words. Wait, had he already given you a nickname?

“Cinderella?” You blinked in confusion.

“Well I never caught your name-- But I guess I shouldn’t even push it, you’ve clearly moved on and I must seem like a creep,” His train of thought proceeded out loud as he realized you hadn’t taken his number and here he was still flirting with you. Rita had given it to you, he had seen her type it in your phone. Obviously you weren’t interested, why was he pushing this?

“What? NO!” You said a little louder than you intended, actually a lot louder than you intended. You slapped your hand over your mouth after your little outburst, but to you relief he was still smiling.

“Oh? Well I suppose that’s good…” He was obviously fishing for your excuse as to why you had waited until he popped back in your face to talk to him.

“No, I um--” You racked your brain for an excuse that wasn’t “I was busy planning our lives together”.

“I….couldn’t think of something interesting to say,” You finally admitted with a pitiful sigh. You were not a good liar, and under pressure, forget about it.

Again, he still smiled-- but this time he laughed along with it.

“I mean, ‘Hello’ is always an option,” He chuckled. “Or...your name?”

“Oh!” Idiot. You hadn’t even given him your name, how was he supposed to fall madly in love with you without a name?

“Y/N,” You stuck your hand out awkwardly, Was this a ‘shake hands’ moment? Hadn’t you already met before? You stared at your hand as you moved it slightly back and forth, arguing with yourself whether or not this was necessary. Luckily, Rafael settled the argument by taking your hand and shaking it firmly.

His hands were so soft, his long fingers enveloped yours in them. You lost yourself in the moment, and before you knew it he was making an uncomfortable cough, snapping you back to reality. You dropped his hand and snapped yours back into your body like a zip cord, your face in a horrified stare.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, that was so weird. I’m weird. I’m--”

“Well I don’t know what you were so worried about Cinderella, you’re clearly a chatterbox,” He gave you a tongued smile, referring to the word vomit you just couldn’t help spill all over him.

“Oh yeah, I’m a total word machine,” You laughed nervously. A word machine? What the fuck was that?

“...Word machine. Right,” He nodded in amusement. “Well word machine, would you mind shooting some words to my phone, or do you just enjoy this face to face thing?”

“With that face? Definitely the latter. But you can have my number anyway,” You typed a quick message and sent it to his number. Damn that was smooth! How did you do that?

Rafael made an impressed face with your line, but when he opened his phone his brows furrowed.

“Hit?” He gave you a curious look as he read the text out loud.

“Fuck it was supposed to be ‘hi’-- stupid autocorrect,” You muttered angrily. Yeah, that was more like you.

“Oh yes, the dreaded autocorrect,” He nodded while saving your number. “Turning fucks into ducks since 2011,”

“Oh I didn’t have a phone in 7th grade but I’ll take your word for it,” You laughed, but stopped when his face twisted into a mix of horror and discomfort when he realized how young you actually were.

Dammit. Why...why would you do this?

“....Right, is Rita in?” He quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed into Rita’s office before you could answer.

“...Idiot!” You yelled at yourself as your hands went over your face and your face planted into your desk.

Well, that was nice while it lasted. All 2.5 seconds of it.

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

“Well Barba, about time,” Rita smirked as Rafael abruptly burst into her office trying to get away from you. “Done flirting with the intern are we?”

“Shut up,” He rolled his eyes, though his face was a deep shade of red.

“Oh no, what happened? Did your dentures fall out in front of her?” She smirked.

“I’m younger than you!!” He scoffed.

“Yeah but I’m not the one trying to boff a 25 year old,” She smirked harder, making Rafael angrier.

“Can I just get the warrant I came here for, Rita?” He huffed.

“Oooh, struck a nerve there, did I?” Rita chuckled as she grabbed some papers from her desk and started to hand them to him. “Barba, for the record I’m really not judging you. If I were 20 years younger, I’d hit it too,”

“Excuse me?”

“I had a lot of ‘cats’ in college,” She winked.

“Wow,” Rafael held up his hands. “Rita, we really don’t need to be that personal.”

“Fine, but all I’m saying is if you like the girl, don’t let a stupid thing like age deter you. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s actually very competent and organized. I would almost prefer her not to graduate, unless she'd come work for me. She’s going to be a hell of a lawyer,” She gestured outside to your desk.

Rafael looked at the ground as he mulled over what she was saying, a small smile crawled across his lips as she complimented your potential.

“I’ll take that under advisement, Mrs. Calhoun,” He nodded as he walked towards the door with the papers in his hand, a huge smile across his face now.

He walked out to find you cursing at yourself and whimpering in embarrassment at your desk. When you heard the door shut you snapped to attention and stared at him, shocked he hadn't sprinted out of the office like Usain Bolt. Even more shocking was that Cheshire cat grin now upon his face.

“I-I’m sorry, I totally meant I was--” You tried doing math trying to make yourself reasonably older.

“It’s fine,” He chuckled as he put a hand over your counting fingers. You blushed at the touch of his skin on yours again, but quickly shoved your hands under the desk nervously as you tried not to look him square in the eye. His eyes were so gorgeous you were positive staring straight into them would actually get you pregnant.

“So does Rita ever unchain you from this desk?” He smirked as he was now very aware and very amused at how nervous he made you. He may be old, but clearly he’s still got it.

“Oh yeah, if I ask very nicely she let’s me--” You tried to think of something witty, but it wasn’t coming with him staring at you with those eyes. “....Yes,” You wanted to put your hands over your face but you didn’t want it to be a ‘thing’.

“Well, maybe if you’re an extra good girl she’ll let you off your leash early tonight,” He winked.

“....Am I a dog or a toddler in that situation?” You were genuinely asking, but Rafael clearly realized how insulting that must have seemed.

“Oh no no no, I just, shit,” He tried to backtrack but if he was being totally honest, you made him nervous. Maybe he didn’t have ‘it’ as much as he thought.

You noticed he was the one blushing now, oh my god were you making him nervous? QUICK, BE SMOOTH. BE SMOOTHER THAN YOU’VE EVER BEEN IN YOUR LIFE.

“Are you asking me out, counselor?” You did your best “sultry “voice with a bat of your eyes. Were you batting them too much? What was too much? Oh god you’ve done it for too long now. STOP BATTING.

“...I don’t know, guess you’ll have to wait for me to text you, future counselor,” He was impressed by the line, and decided to bow out before either of you made idiots of yourselves again. He gave you a wink and sauntered out of the office.

Great. Now he’ll probably make you wait two days for a--

*BEEP*

Your phone went off in your desk. You pulled it out to see a text message:

BHOLE BARBA: Dinner? Tonight?

You really needed to change his contact name. But that wasn’t the point right now. He just asked you out. Rafael Barba just asked you out. You stared at in your hands, unsure of what to do. Then you realized you couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t just sit there and imagine things, this required an immediate response.

You nervously typed a reply and hit SEND:

Sire ;)

“DAMMIT!!!” You cursed your autocorrect. You instantly sent another text.

Sure***

Before you could lecture yourself again, your phone beeped again:

BHOLE BARBA: Play

Play? What did that--

BHOLE: Okay** ;)

You typed the word ‘okay’ into your text reply bubble, ‘play’ came up in the autocorrect word list.

He was joking with you. He was flirting with you. RAFAEL BARBA WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU.

This work day could not end fast enough.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanficton #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #not my yacht #raul esparza

[magnoliabloomfield]

Possession 13

Nikola spent a lot of time in her room until her period was over, the boys were just too loud even when they didn’t mean to be annoying, and she was still a bit too embarrassed to face Gally. Not only had he helped her clean the blood from her sheets while he was shirtless, she’d also made that weird, hormonal declaration to him from her balcony. But she wouldn’t take it back either because it was true, Gally was just about the sweetest person in existence even if he did have a hardened exterior, or didn’t express himself with tremendous amounts of warmth. The things he did were always just right in his own unique way.

The attention most boys gave her felt meaningless since she was the only girl. It was hard to feel special without other options to be chosen from. Did they like her personality? Did anyone like her with their brains or their heart, or just their hormones?

She wanted to think Gally cared for her beyond the superficial, but she feared the day another girl would show up that he might like better than her, or they got out and there were so many to choose from, what if he didn’t really want her but was settling because she was all there was? But that’s how life was. A small world with one girl and one Gally.

She was supposed to work on some mending that day and went to Gally’s work bench for a pair of scissors. He wasn’t anywhere in sight even as she scanned extra hard for him. She did notice Shawn looking her way and quickly averted her gaze. She grabbed the scissors and looked for a scrap of paper to leave a note on. Gally didn’t like his things going missing, so she was going to let him know she had them and where she’d be if he really needed them back. As she searched she noticed something.

Moving some things out of the way she saw drawings, somewhere between a sketch and a doodle, and it was all of her. She was shocked at how good the drawings were, but even more shocked by how beautiful the artist seemed to think she was. She’d caught some glimpses in rusty mirrors and still water, she didn’t really look that good. She couldn’t fool herself, this was Gally’s table, Gally’s stuff, so it had to be Gally’s drawings. Honestly if he saw one of his builders doodling away he wouldn’t stand for it or keep it around.

She bit back a huge smile before she covered it back up and looked around for his to-do list, maybe that would tell her where to find him. But what would she do when she found him? Say ‘hey, I saw your drawings of me,’ …then what? She just wanted to see him, just be around him, even without a reason. When she did find him he was in the dead heads with the other builders looking for any trees that could come down, or branches for fires or tools. He was busy and there was no privacy, she couldn’t play off going to see him as anything but going to see him just because she wanted to.

~~~

At dinner Gally got a huge surprise. Nikola was sitting at his usual table. It felt like his heart did an extra big thump when he saw her there in the evening glow. He saw Newt make a dash for the table as fast as his limp would let him, looking ready to be entertained by Gally who he claimed was ‘totally whipped’, whatever that meant. They were saying hello to each other as Gally sat down across from her.

“Hey,” she greeted him with a smile in front of all the other boys. “Did you get my note about borrowing your scissors today?”

“Yeah, I did,” he nodded, glancing at Newt who was watching them like they were a compelling tennis match. “Thanks for putting them back.”

“I saw your sketches,” she said innocently enough but there was flicker in her eyes that made him freeze.

The sketches. The sketches of her, she saw them, oh crap.

“They’re really good, I think you could make a perfect greenhouse if you had the glass for it,” she went on, but her eyes told him she wasn’t really talking about the greenhouse. Strange too was that she didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

Gally swallowed despite not having taken a bite of food yet. “Thanks. I like to plan ahead for future possibilities.”

“You never planned for this possibility,” Newt smirked as he pointed at Nikola.

Gally shrugged. “You can’t plan for everything.”

“Very true,” Newt admitted. “I mean, you were quite worried about the effects a girl in the glade might have, but nothing terrible has happened yet and you seem to get along thick as thieves.”

Gally gave Newt a hard stare.

“He does like to keep the chaos organized, doesn’t he?” Nikola conspired with Newt, a well meaning tone in her teasing. “Honestly, what would you do without him?”

“Better question is what you’d do without him,” Newt countered. He had spent enough time with her to realize who she fancied, no matter how stoic and subtle she tried to be.

“Oof,” she got a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, I’d be homeless.”

Newt laughed and even Gally cracked a smile.

“I might be under someones thumb, too,” she went on. “Without Gally advocating for me to get on the council. I wouldn’t have my swing!”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Newt said looking right at Gally with an almost taunting grin.

“But all that sounds pretty terrible,” she waved it off. “It’s not just about the things Gally has done for me, or what I’ve gotten from him. He’s my best friend.”

“Is he now?” Newt asked in surprise that sounded more genuine than teasing. Meanwhile Gally could feel that he had gone absolutely, unsubtly red.

“He is,” Nikola smiled, looking at Gally as she answered Newt’s question, watching him adoringly as he bashfully avoided her gaze with red cheeks and ears as he pushed food around on his plate.

“I have bad news for you, love,” Newt sighed. “Gally’s best friend is me. Isn’t that right, Gally?”

Gally looked at him with one raised brow but didn’t say anything which Newt found very amusing in itself. But then Newt gave a sigh as if the fun was over.

“I know it’s- well actually I can only try to imagine how hard it is for you being the only girl here, and how there are so many normal and fun things you should be able to do… but this place is anything but normal. I get it, I don’t mind the fun and the teasing, but there are some who might. I know it’s not fair, but try to be a bit more careful. I really would hate to see either of you get hurt if someone got the wrong idea.”

Nikola looked thoroughly chastised even though Newt had spoken so soft and kindly.

“Right. You’re right,” she nodded as she looked down at her lap and bit her lips. She looked back up with just a ghost of the smile she was wearing before. “I guess I got away from myself there. I’ll have to work on that.”

Gally felt his heart sinking in his chest. He knew Newt was right but he didn’t want her to become reserved and shy away from him just to try and keep peace with some jealous shanks. She’d done all this just because she had seen his sketches of her, had he made her that happy to begin with?

“I guess I’ll go ahead and turn in then,” She said with a shine to her eyes that he hadn’t seen on her before, but he recognized it still because even boys cried.

She said goodnight and took her plate to the kitchen before heading to her house without looking back. It was all going on behind Gally’s back and he couldn’t look at her without making it obvious, but he watched Newt watching her, his longer hair hiding his gaze from others around him.

“I’ve gotten it all wrong haven’t I?” Newt sighed after Nikola disappeared from his view.

“How’s that?” Gally asked, suddenly not so hungry anymore.

“I think you’re the one who has her wrapped around your finger,” Newt clarified making Gally blush again against his will.

“I don’t,” Gally tried to argue quietly and just earned a disbelieving look.

“You best be very careful,” Newt warned. “No one says anything around you because they know you’re protective of her, and you can beat them to a bloody pulp, but there are some boys who would be very sore if she was taken. I know you can take anyone one-on-one but I don’t know if you could take them all at once, and I’m afraid it could come to that.”

“Who is saying what about Nikola?” Gally demanded.

“Oh god, it’s mutual pining,” Newt sighed to himself tiredly as he rubbed his face. “I’m not going to tell you that because you can’t act like you don’t know and you’d end up in trouble any way. For her sake and yours just tread carefully.”

“I don’t want things to go backwards. She trusts me, she knows I’d do anything to protect her,” Gally spilled without meaning to.

“If you’re willing to do anything than do this, just back off a bit when others are around,” Newt suggested.

When Gally didn’t say anything to that Newt just shrugged and took his dishes back to the kitchen. Gally sat there at his table alone, deep in thought and murky, unhappy feelings. He stayed there so long, Fry came over himself to take his dishes to the wash. He sat there till all the others had gone to bed, knowing his thoughts would keep him awake anyway.

~~~~~

A few days passed where Nikola and Gally did the last thing on earth they wanted to do and kept their distance most of the time. But when they did get a chance to interact they both made an effort to subtly assure the other that it wasn’t personal, that nothing had changed between them.

Nikola was sitting up in her house with various scraps of things arranged on her floor and was figuring out how to recycle them into something useful when Newt called up to her. She went out on her balcony and frowned when she saw his face.

“I need you to come with me,” he said apologetically. “It’s a gathering… of sorts.”

Her heart plummeted. She was shaking as she tried to go down her ladder and it made it difficult. She didn’t say anything as she walked with Newt, her mind racing with so many things at once and her stomach feeling twisted beyond untangling.

When she stepped inside she saw Alby, Gally, and Shawn. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the latter even though she was trying very hard not to give any of her emotions away. Gally didn’t seem happy with him either and Alby just looked completely impatient. Nikola just looked at him, not willing to say a word until she knew what was going on.

Alby reached out and handed her a piece of paper. “Did you write this?”

She looked at him doubtfully as she plucked the paper from his hand and then looked down to read it, immediately seeing it was not her handwriting before she took in what it said. “No, not my handwriting,” she said quickly and passed it back.

“Read it, will you?” Alby said as he pushed it back.

She sighed but complied.

“It’s time for me to wash my sheets, why don’t you come and help me get them real good and dirty first? It was so fun last time.”

She hid her disgust and tried to morph it into confusion instead. She looked at the boys standing around her. “What the shuck does that mean?” she asked Alby like it was Greek to her.

“Shawn says he saw you and Gally washing your sheets very late one night, and Gally wasn’t fully dressed. Said you seemed very… close,” Alby explained, glancing at Shawn who had clearly orchestrated this whole thing.

“And the first conclusion you jumped to was that we were screwing?” She asked Shawn directly, as flat as possible. “No wonder you faked a note, if that’s all you’ve got to support that theory.”

“She didn’t deny it,” Shawn pointed out smugly to Alby.

“Right, because I was up late one night, I was washing my sheets, and Gally was helping me,” She admitted easily. “That all happened because I started my period in the middle of the night and had to clean blood off myself, my clothes, and my sheets before the stains set.” Everyone but Gally looked uncomfortable as soon as she said period. “And before he tells you he saw me write this note to Gally, I did write Gally a different note about taking the spare scissors when I did the mending. I can get the med journal and show you an example of Shawn’s hand writing and my own if you want, but Newt also heard me talk to Gally about the scissors that day as well.”

Newt nodded to that and Alby threw an unhappy glare at Shawn’s now pale and unamused face. “I think we’re good here, you two can go,” He said to her and Gally, his gaze still fixed on Shawn.

Gally had fixed Shawn with a glare of his own and didn’t seem to be going anywhere, even as Nikola headed toward the door.

“Gally,” Newt said with a warning tone.

Gally let his arms uncross themselves slowly, eyes fixed on Shawn for as long as he could before walking away and following Nikola out the door.

She was out there squinting in the sun waiting for him.

“At least that was easy right?” she commented as they fell into step with each other. “I know that means it’ll only be worse the next time though. I’m sorry Gally-“

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” He blurted, some of his anger at Shawn coming out in his tone with her. He stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath to calm down, then looked up to see her anxious face staring up at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he repeated more softly, “And neither do I. He’s an idiot, and I don’t care what else he does, you’re my friend and I’m yours and I won’t allow any amount of childish jealousy to change that.”

His fists were clenched and his heart pounded in his ears. Nikola’s eyes were wide and he saw her swallow before she nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, absolutely,” she agreed. “Same here.”

Neither of them realized what it would take to keep that promise to each other.

Masterlist

@frequentlychangingfandoms @quackquackbi @poulterjonas @crazysheeplyca @pre-google @gladerscake @neilox @thesuitkovian @carp3d1em @cottoncandy-dreamxd @emilyhadenbaker

#tmr #gally #tmr gally #gally imagine #fanfic #maze runner #maze runner gally #thirsting over gally's thick ankles #Will Poulter #Will Poulter protection squad

[writingsbymo-mo]

Seven Minutes of Good Vibes

🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅

❆ Day 7 of our 12 Days of XXXmas Collab

❆ Sumary:  It’s the annual Christmas party at the lov’s hideout. The bar is full of drunk/tipsy villains. Shenanigans ensue and now you’re stuck in the closet with Compress for seven minutes where he has a few tricks up his sleeve.

❆ WC: 2.4k

❆ Contains: alcohol, fingering, vibrating marbles

❆ TW: some drinking, objects stuffed in you

Note: Toga is 18 in this fic and Kurogiri makes sure she isn’t drinking.

🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅

Twas a cold night this fine evening. Many people already sound asleep in their beds or off to their late night shifts. The hustle and bustle of the city dwindled by the hour. But not for a certain group. Oh no. They were far too awake on this Christmas Eve.

The League of Villains were hosting their annual Christmas Party, proposed by none other than Toga and later agreed upon by Kurogiri for some group bonding.

Multicolored lights strung along the bar counter thanks to Kurogiri plus a small tree of quaint decorations of ornaments and garland carefully placed on the front corner of the bar greeting all who enter from the side entrance. It lit up the usually dimly lit room nicely. Keeping up with such festivities, he wore a santa hat. “Everyone must wear one, even you Tomura Shigaraki,” he stated in a calm manner.

Tomura reluctantly wore it, keeping Father over his face the whole time as not to be seen and simply drank glasses of whiskey on the rocks, ignoring the festivities no matter how much Kurogiri tried getting him involved. Anyone who approached him was ignored or simply told to fuck off. He wasn’t in the greatest of moods being forced to miss a gaming tournament with the grand prize winner getting the rarest items in the entire game plus premium figures of the characters he mains. After a few attempts to speak to him, nobody dared bother him. Not even you.

The rest of the league, including yourself, all stayed in the corner opposite the bar.

Dabi stood leaning against the wall brooding as per usual even throwing in his usual snarky quips when the time was right. Twice was playing charades with Toga, Spinner, and Compress trying to figure out what exactly he was doing, throwing out guess after guess. Occasionally, Spinner glanced back at the boss with the soft pink glow forming in his cheeks.

What you were doing? Just sitting next to Mr. Compress, sipping on the cocktail in your hand all bundled up in some throw blankets. After being in the league these past few months, you soon caught glances of the man in such fine attire. Your cheeks were warm, not just from the booze. Honestly, you’d have nothing more than to finally have Compress right where you want him. You shifted your thighs just thinking about it. With the mask on so conspicuously, you never knew if he was ever looking your way or even noticed the little things you do.

As the night went on, everyone kept glancing at the doorway that led towards the second floor where the bathroom was located. Carefully placed over it was some mistletoe. Not once this evening did two people meet underneath it just yet. Everyone kept waiting, watching as someone would leave to use the bathroom, keeping track of who was coming and going. While normally, someone would kiss the person they bump into underneath the mistletoe, Toga came up with the idea that instead of kissing, the two caught under it would go into the broom closet for some seven minutes in heaven. And thus, it was agreed upon.

Tomura was plastered, passed out at the bar with Kurogiri shaking his head in disappointment at the young boss who didn’t wish to participate in the festivities. He had a strong feeling this would happen anyway.

The karaoke was brought out and now the room was filled with the song of some drunken or tipsy villains, minus Toga who Kurogiri made sure drank non-alcoholic beverages that night. Cheers and dancing ensued with everyone taking turns singing.

A sudden tightness in your bladder alerted you and you rushed to the bathroom. Being as tipsy as you were, you didn’t think to notice if anyone saw you get up not.

Feeling much better, you stepped back to the bar but then, you bumped into something or rather, someone. “Oof, s-sorry,” you uttered, slowly raising your head only to feel the heat growing rapidly in your cheeks, not from the various alcohol you’ve been drinking.

The familiar white mask with curious designs caught your attention and the lean build of his...it was him...Mr. Compress. “None to worry my dear.” Despite not seeing his face, you could feel his smile through the mask.

A sudden feeling on the back of your neck told you to look up with Compress having the same idea. You lifted your head slowly and paused. Your body felt hot, almost heavy and light at the same time. There it was, the mistletoe finally serving its purpose. 

Time stopped. You couldn’t keep your eyes off the hemi-parasitic plant hanging above your head. Of course the one moment you forgot about it would cause this to happen. On top of it all...with your crush. A part of you almost wondered if this was all said and forgotten about or if anyone even noticed.

Loud cheers from across the bar snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh my god! It’s happening!!!” Toga squealed, giving you a knowing look. You lowered your head in embarrassment, staring at the linoleum floor. She figured out how you felt about Compress a few weeks ago as you had a hard time keeping your eyes off him during the last fight. “Aww look at the lovebirds! Get a room,” Twice cooed then shouted. Spinner nodded and cheered in approval, taking another drink. Dabi was indifferent to the whole ordeal being too busy doodling dicks all over Tomura’s face, stifling his laughter as to what his boss’s reaction might be when he wakes up.

Your eyes continued to focus on the floor. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, never subsiding. A gloved hand of crimson obstructed your view. “I’d be honored for you to join me my dear.” The timbre of his voice, so smooth and rich made you lose your breath. You took his hand, warm with a perfect hold in yours as a gentleman would. If you were entirely sober right now, you would’ve fainted in pure astonishing bliss. He traipsed onwards to the nearest closet that so happened to be the broom closet, leading you in first, him following and closed the door behind him.

The room was tiny to say the least. You pulled the string to the light hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the space, humming though barely audible. Outside, they started karaoke back up singing some classic music for this kind of party. Compress bumped into you the moment the door clicked. You stumbled back, hitting the wall and somehow pulling him with you. You gasped as you both fell onto the floor with a thud.

His warmth and subtle earthy, musky scent engulfed you, sending a tingling sensation between your legs. Slowly, you came back to reality. His body caged around you, on top of you. Soft but deep sighs caressed your ears, adding to the sensation below.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern in his voice. The mask that adorned his face fell off, revealing the beautiful chestnut eyes you could never look away from.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright...so handsome...uh I-I mean, are you?” You shrunk into yourself...you said it… ‘Maybe...he didn’t hear that part?’ Oh, but you knew, you just knew he did.

A spark lit up in his eyes as his lips stretched to form a smirk, “handsome? I’ll have you be the judge of that.” His right hand brushed your cheek that you melted into. Your heart skipped a few beats. “Now what would you like to do for these seven minutes? I might have a few tricks up my sleeve I’m willing to try with you.”

By now, a minute had already passed. You just needed to say it. All this time, how much you’ve always wanted him, how he makes you feel day in and day out. Never once have you ever lusted for someone so much, wondering just what those fingers and marbles could do to you. A man with many secrets who covers his face intrigued you to no ends. All you had to do...was tell him just what you wanted...what you needed. You inhaled deeply and sighed, it was now or never. “F-fuck me with your marbles!”

Compress paused, astounded by your response. He chuckled softly and smiled with a hungry expression on his face, “I didn’t take you as the kinky type but alas it appears I am mistaken. Though,” his voice deepened, almost in a growl, “I do have a trick or two that you might be interested in. Now then, we don’t have much time.” He leaned forward, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek, whispering an I’ve always wanted you.

The warmth radiating off his body now subtle as he leaned back, unbuttoning your pants. Goosebumps raised on your skin from his touch. He pulled them down your legs along with your panties, leaving your cunny exposed to him. Juices from your arousal shone under the soft lighting before him. You turned your head, blushing. His hand touched your chin tenderly, motioning you to face him.”C-Compress?”

“Shh, it’s alright. Please don’t hide your beautiful face from me my dear. Especially with what’s to come.” You could only feel hotter with every word of his sweeping through your ears.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his feelings into it. Your eyes shot open but fluttered shut soon after, moving your lips to match his intensity. For a moment, the world had stopped. Nothing mattered but the emotions you shared.

“Ah!” you cried, breaking the kiss. Your cunny twitched as a couple fingers slid between your folds, testing your every sound and movement. “M-more!”

“Impatient I see. Well, it can’t be helped with us having a short timeframe but, I promise to make this performance worthwhile,” he dipped his fingers lower, sliding two fingers barely past your entrance, making you whimper. “Of course, next time I’ll surely give you the show of a lifetime.”

Long slender fingers plunged deep inside your velvety walls in a rapid, steady rhythm. You moaned and cried his name, urging your hips forward as lust overtook your mind. Every touch, the way he pressed and rubbed your sweet spot sent pleasant chills through your body. It’s no wonder they say he has magic fingers.

They scissored in and out, twisting and twirling in a fierce yet delicate dance leaving you begging for more. He moved so fast, you didn’t even notice his fingers slip out for a brief second only to shove in a special something: a marble. The foreign object made you gasp in surprise. It was cool to the touch making your insides tingle. You shifted your eyes towards his face. Compress couldn’t stop his smile, hearing your melodic moans that slipped out every movement he made making you tighter by the second.

Soon another marble went in. Then another, and another until finally….he stopped.

Compress released his fingers from your tight heat, licking off your juices while humming. Despite the marbles inside you, you couldn’t help but feel empty. He must've noticed the glum expression you held. “It seems you aren’t completely satisfied my dear. No worries, I have a little surprise for you.”

His fingers snapped and everything went white. You couldn’t think or speak. Nothing but incoherent babbling and screams of pleasure echoed from the enclosed space followed by a quiet buzzing sound. Tears poured from your eyes as drool dripped out of your mouth. Your body continuously convulsed as your cunny twitched and oozed more and more fluids. It was as though you finally found nirvana for the first time. You never knew you could feel like this.

“Hhmhmm, I see those marbles are doing the trick,” he cooed with a telltale smirk.

His hands cupped your cheeks, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs. You barely heard what he said, mustering a breath to speak, “the m-m-marbles….ah- what..did you-?”

“They’re quite special. Since we wouldn’t have much time here, I wanted to give you as much pleasure as possible so,” he held a marble between his fingers and turned it on like the others, “as you can see, it’s a special vibrating marble. What do you think about it?”

You cried as another jolt made you ascend once more, “so good!!!”

Knock knock knock

“Hey lovebirds, times up,” Dabi grumbled and sauntered away from the door, “better hope you didn’t make a mess in there.”

A whine left your lips as your eyebrows scrunched together. You sat up, reaching between your legs, digging around to find the marbles but, only one managed to make its way out, rolling onto the floor between your legs. The others however, you could barely reach. “C-Compress...they’re not coming out! Hnngh...please help!” you whimpered. Your legs wouldn’t stop shaking.

Compress shoved his fingers back inside your sopping entrance, digging for the marbles still vibrating inside you. Another one managed to loosen and rolled its way out. He went deeper, trying to reach the others but nothing seemed to work. He sighed, “sorry my dear. It appears I went a bit far. You’ll have to keep them inside until they manage to slide out. After all, I will need them back for next time.” He winked at you as you felt your body heat rise once more. It stands that no matter what he does, you can’t get enough of his charm.

Without a second to spare, he helped put your clothes back on. Despite the smile he wore, you could see a small tinge of guilt in his eyes. You paused for a second then gave him a reassuring smile. He picked you up, holding you close to him, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m glad I got to spend this holiday with you my love.”

He carried you out and everyone cheered at the two of you. Dabi teased you, telling you how loud you were. You couldn’t help but bury your face into Compress’s chest. “I think we’re going to turn in for the night,” Compress stated. 

He quickly went up the stairs, giving you small pecks along the way to his room. It was a happy moment for the league that you and Compress surely will never forget...especially with those pesky little marbles still stuck inside you.

🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅🎄🎅

We know this year has been a rough one for a lot of us, so our little group got together to do this Lil’ collab to try and bring some fun to this time of the year, and also help the ones of us who are experiencing difficulties.

Each fanfic from our collab will have the writer’s commission info or tip jar,check their works and if you like it, feel free to help ✨✨✨✨

✨✨We all hope you have happy holidays ✨✨✨

❆tip jar/ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/momo0953

#mr. compress x reader #atsuhiro sako x reader #sako atsuhiro x reader #compress has the magical fingers and he shows you what those mean #nsft #bnha #mha #smut #12 days of xxxmas #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[ionlyspeakinmyheroacademia]

Under the Fluorescent Lights

masterlist

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3k+

Type: Oneshot!

Summary: You and Shouto are both harboring unspeaken feelings for each other, and the school dance may be your last chance to tell each other

Warnings: none, just pure, tooth-rotting fluff :)

Author’s Note: This was really fun to write, I hope you all like it, stay tuned for more lovelies! (story under the cut!)

𐇵𐇵𐇵

You had never been in love before, or at least you didn’t think you had. Up until this point in your life, you had had crushes, and flings, but you had never been in love.

That was, until you met Shouto Todoroki. You befriended the bi-haired boy, his cold, closed-off demeanor drew you in, even if he didn’t necessarily want you there. After a few months of going to UA together, he finally accepted that you weren’t going anywhere, and you became real friends. 

When he finally opened up to you, and showed you who he really was, you were amazed. He wasn’t the cold, arrogant boy most people saw, he was kind, and funny, and sweet. And slowly, without meaning to, you fell for him. Hard.

It was nearing the end of your third year at UA, and you still hadn’t got the chance to tell him how you really felt. You were terrified that he would reject you, like he’d rejected so many others in your time of being friends with him, that he wouldn’t want you the way you wanted him. These fears filled you up, ate at you from the inside, preventing you from voicing your feelings.

But it was fine. Shouto seemed content on staying friends anyway. 

“Y/N!” you heard from behind you, and you turned to see you best friend Mina, bounding down the hall towards you, her eyes lit up with excitement. 

“Hey Mina,” you said as she crashed into you, nearly knocking you both to the ground.

“Gosh, be careful clumsy!” you scolded, but you don’t really mean it, you were grinning the whole time. 

“Anywho, so guess what!” she said, bouncing around excitedly.

“What?” you asked, trying to focus on her face as it bobbed up and down. 

“Soooooo, since this is our last month at UA, they’re having this dance for the third years, and….  I think you should ask Todoroki!”

“Mina!” you protested, looking around quickly, making sure no one was around to hear. “Could you be any louder?!”

She laughed, and leaned over to ruffle your hair affectionately. You pushed her off, and complained about your now messed up hair.

“I think you should finally just tell him, Y/N. It’s been long enough now, even if he doesn’t return your feelings, which he totally will, by the way, wouldn’t it be better if he knew?”

“No, Mina. I’m not jeopardizing my friendship with Shouto just so he can know what I feel.”

“Whatever you say….” Mina said, shrugging, and then she threw her arm around your shoulder, and the two of you walked down the hall towards the dorms. “You will come though, right?” 

“Yeah, probably, we can go together, like the single pringles we are,” you laughed, and bumped your hip against hers, and the two of you headed down the hall, laughing as you went. 

𐇵𐇵𐇵

Shouto didn’t usually let people know how he felt.

But then he met you, and you changed his life for the better. At first, he was wary of you, you were so bright, so full of energy, and you shone brighter than the sun. He was nervous to open up to you, because everyone in his life had betrayed his trust at one time or another. But you were there, you were always there, even if he wanted to be alone, you were there to calm him down, to listen to his anxieties, his insecurities, his feelings. And slowly, over time, he fell in love with you, as much as that scared him.

In the beginning, he wasn’t sure what the feeling was. It filled him up, a warmth spreading through him, one that wasn’t caused from his quirk. His cheeks would flush slightly whenever he saw you, and he would only have eyes for you whenever you were in the same room as him. If you noticed, you never said anything, and he was too worried to ever really tell you what he felt. 

So naturally, he just bit back his feelings, and kept them inside. It was the only thing he knew. All his life, he’d seen what love did to people, it tore them apart, it made them crazy. Shouto never had a good example of love in his life, considering his parents weren’t in love, and his bastard of a father, who beat Shouto’s mother, siblings, and Shouto himself constantly, definitely wasn’t. And honestly? He was afraid that one day he would turn into his father. It was his greatest fear, and the only person who knew was you. 

Because he trusted you, more than he trusted anyone.

“Todoroki? Are you even listening?” Midoriya asked, waving a hand in front of his face. 

“Huh?” Shouto said, shaking out of his thoughts. Midoriya shook his head and looked back at his textbook. 

“We have finals in a week, Todoroki! You really need to pay attention!” Midoriya scolded, and Shouto grimaced, looking back at his notes.

“I’m sorry, Midoriya, I was lost in thought.”

“Todoroki, forgive me for being so intrusive, but you should just tell her.” 

If Shouto had been drinking, he would have spit it right out. “What?” he exclaimed, and swiveled his head to look at Midoriya, his cheeks flushed. 

“You know, your crush on Y/N?” Midioriya prompted, bumping Shouto’s arm with his shoulder, chuckling at the dumbstruck look on his friend’s face. “What? Did you think I didn’t know? You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

“Well, you tend to be more observant than most people,” Shouto grumbled, and Midoriya shrugged, smiling. “Do you think…. Does she know?” Shouto asked, avoiding Midoriya’s eyes and doodling on the side of his paper to distract from the pounding in his chest. 

“Eh, I doubt it, she doesn’t really seem like she does, she’s kind of oblivious,” Midoriya laughed, and Shouto opened his mouth to interject before Midoriya cut him off again. “I’m just kidding, Todoroki, calm down. But really, you should let her know how you feel. Do you really want to graduate without telling her? You two have been dancing around each other for the past three years, Todoroki, and I’m sure she’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

“If she even likes me back,” Shouto said, and turned back to his notes, trying to ignore the feelings threatening to spill over. Go away, he thought to himself, I’m not ready yet. 

Midoriya didn’t answer, instead went back to talking about what he figured would be on the finals, and different techniques for their final practical exams. Shouto tried to listen, but his mind kept wandering back to you. How your soft, beautiful hair frames your face, how your eyes shine like a million stars when you look at him, how you make his heart beat faster than Iida’s Recipro Burst whenever you’re in the room. He lets his head fill with thoughts of you, your smile whenever you see him, your hair after you’ve just woken up after falling asleep during a movie night in the common area, sticking up all over the place, and he remembered tufts of it tickling his face as he carried you up to your room that night. 

Shouto smiles down at the paper in front of him, and he wishes he had the courage to tell you what he really felt for you, wishes he could explain what you do to him, and lets his mind go back to thoughts of you, not even hearing Midoriya as he continues to talk about school.

𐇵𐇵𐇵

The lights in Gym Gamma were dimmed, and you stood next to the refreshment table underneath streamers and balloons that looked extremely half-assed. You wondered to yourself if Aizawa had done them, and a smile came to your face as you watched your friends dance. Kirishima was trying (and failing) to pull a reluctant Bakugou onto the dance floor with him. The drink in your hand was cold, the condensation on the side of the cup making your hand slick. You resisted the urge to wipe it on your dress, and took a sip, the cold drink calming you a bit. Smiling, you look out at your friends breaking it down on the dance floor, watching as they twirled and shimmied across the concrete.

Mina, all done up in a beautiful purple dress that hugged her curves perfectly, was dancing wildly in the center of the room, dragging a very stressed Jirou with her. You giggle at their expressions, Mina’s excited and full of life, Jirou’s conveying the silent message that she wanted to die. Mina had tried to get you to dance with her, but you had never been much of a dancer, and your friend knew better than to push. 

So here you sat, a drink in your hand as you watched your classmates having fun while you tried to avoid social interaction. You weren’t quite sure what was wrong with you tonight. Normally you would be in the middle of all the action, a smile on your face. But tonight, it was different. Maybe it was the fact that you were graduating in a week, and you might not see these people who had become your best friends anytime soon. Or maybe it was because Shouto had been talking to Yaomomo for the last five minutes, even though you were over here alone. You knew it was silly to be jealous, he wasn’t yours. But you couldn’t help it, the envy ate at your heart, giving you a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Sighing, you tugged on the hem of your dress, the periwinkle fabric bunching up on your thigh. You had tried to look nice tonight, wearing the dress that you knew was Shouto’s favorite color, pinning your hair up away from your eyes, and you had even let Mina do your makeup. You had told yourself you were dressing up for you, but deep down you knew that wasn’t the case. What you really wanted was a reaction out of Shouto, you wanted his heterochromatic eyes to light up when he saw you, you wanted his cheeks to flush at the sight of you, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. 

Because he was still talking to Yaomomo, listening as she talked animatedly, her eyes bright under the overhead lights. Your stomach churned as he smiled at her, the same smile he gave you, and you felt the urge to run away, to leave. So you set your cup down on the table, and you did. You felt stupid, weak. He wasn’t your boyfriend, why wouldn’t he talk to Yaomomo? Even if he was your boyfriend, he would be allowed to talk to her, but it wouldn’t bother you as much, because if you were together, you would be standing next to him, holding his hand or smiling as his arm rested around your shoulders. 

You pushed the door to the cool March air, stepping out into the night, the flickering fluorescent light above you mocking you. A tear slipped down your cheek, caressing the side of your face, leaving a warm track. You felt pitiful. Here you were, crying over a boy you were too much of a coward to tell how you felt.

You looked up at the sky, cursing the lights of the city from preventing you from seeing the stars. The stars were one of the things you missed most from back home. When you were a little girl, you would climb up onto the roof, and let yourself get lost in the story the constellations told until you were calm. You wished you were home right now, sitting at the table with your mom and your little Maeko, your sweet baby sister. It wasn’t very often that you really wanted to go home, but when you were nervous or sad, you always missed the open fields that spread out by your mother’s house, the wildflowers blowing everytime the wind blew. 

You tried to calm yourself with memories of your home, trying to push Shouto out of your brain. You had almost successfully pushed the thoughts of him away when you heard the familiar rumble of his deep voice from beside you.

“Y/N?”

𐇵𐇵𐇵

Shouto had been talking to Yaomomo when he realized you were missing. He scanned the room for you, and felt his heart sink when he didn’t see you. 

“Yaoyorozu,” he said, cutting her off as she started another tangent about the agency she was going to. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

“Oh,” she replied, her face falling a bit, but quickly covered with a smile. “Sure, okay!”

“Thank you,” he said, and smiled at her before walking over to the refreshments table, where your abandoned drink sat, condensation slowly sliding down the side. Shouto saw your shoes sitting next to the table, and he smiled. You always seemed to prefer going around barefoot. 

He looked around, and the backdoor caught his eyes, and he knew that was probably where you went. He knew you liked to feel the breeze on your face, that it always calmed you down. He pushed the door open, and turned, looking back and forth for you, before heading to the side of the building, where he saw you standing under a very old and flickering fluorescent light, your face turned towards the sky as tears leaked down your cheeks. 

“Y/N?” he said lightly, and nearly lost his footing when you looked over at him. You looked breathtaking, and he realizes this is the first time he’s really seen you all night. Your hair is pinned up elegantly, away from your face, so he can see your beautiful tear-filled eyes. The periwinkle dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places, and falls just above your knee, and he lets his eyes wash over you. God, she looks so beautiful in periwinkle, he thought. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” you reply, and you look back to the sky, the cool breeze ruffling your hair.

He takes you in, the way your shoulders are hunched, how your brow is slightly furrowed, and your mouth is set in a small pout. I wish I knew how to tell her what I feel… he thought, and he let his head fill with memories of the two of you sitting in the kitchen after hours, sneaking cookies and drinking tea. He remembers when the two of you sat out in the rain, your quirk keeping them waterproof as you talked, completely uninterrupted, just spilling your thoughts. He thought about your hugs, you know he can’t resist your hugs, they're so warm, and he melts into them every time, wrapping his arms around you. You are his home, his safe place to go when he’s scared, when he needs a friend, when he needs to talk. 

The memories flooding his mind cause the feelings to spill over, and the emotions he’s tried so hard to suppress start to push their way out. The feeling rushes over him in waves, and Shouto finally admits what he’s been trying to hide for so long.

He loves you.

“Y/N, I have something I need to tell you,” he says, his sudden realization giving him a burst of confidence. You turn to look at him, your eyes sad.

“Can I say something first?” you ask, and he nods. “Why didn’t you come over and talk to me?”

He’s taken aback a bit by your question, it’s definitely not what he expected you to say, but he hurries to answer it. “Well, I wanted to, but Yaoyorozu wouldn’t stop talking about her agency, and I couldn’t escape,” he laughs lightly, noting how you perk up when he says this, some of the sadness leaving your eyes. “Can I tell you something now?” 

“Sure,” you reply, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He takes a deep breath, and looks you directly in your eyes, the fluorescent light casting an odd glow on the two of you. “I think I’m in love with you,” he breathes, just loud enough for you to hear, and he shifts his gaze downward when he hears your sharp intake of breath. He’s afraid to look at you, he’s worried he’ll see the rejection he’s so afraid of in your eyes. Slowly, you make your way over to him, and you tilt his chin up lightly with your finger so his eyes meet yours. He prepares himself for the worst, but then he sees your face. 

You’re smiling, and Shouto feels a stirring in his chest when he sees how bright your eyes are, shining with happiness. “What a coincidence, Sho’. I think I’m in love with you too,” you whisper, and he can’t take it anymore. He crashes his mouth against yours, and you kiss him back with just as much fervor, your fingers bury themselves in his hair, pulling him down against you. His hand finds the small of your back, and he pulls you as close as you possibly could be to him, holding you there, and cherishing this moment. 

The two of you break apart, and smile at each other. Shouto tries to commit this moment to memory, your eyes bright, your lips slightly puffy from kissing him, your fingers still wound in his hair. The flickering of the fluorescent light casts shadows on your face, but they don't hide your breathtaking grin. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to do that,” you say softly, your hand moving to brush the hair out of his eyes. 

He turns his face, and kisses the inside of your palm. “I’m sorry I was a coward,” he replies, and you both laugh, and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. When the two of you pull apart, and he takes your hand, silently promising to never let you go again, he vows to never let you slip away from him. 

The two of you walk, hand in hand, big goofy smiles on your faces, into the gym, where your friends await you with a thousand questions. But neither of you mind, because all the both of you really wanted was to be together, and both of you wishes finally came true, under the broken fluorescent light behind Gym Gamma. 

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha fanfic #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfic #under the fluorescent lights #ionlyspeakinmyheroacademia #fluffy #fluff #tooth rotting todoroki fluff #best friend mina #best friend midoriya #mha oneshot #bnha oneshots

[ivory-sunflower]

Arty Art Things ✨

Hellooo!

I've decided to post some of the arty things I've done either recently or in the last few years, well the pieces I'm somewhat proud of at least. All my posts tend to be a lot more wordy than they need to be but hey it's what I do here!

Conchúr White

Anyone one who's been on this blog for a bit will have probably have seen me talk about this lovely Irish fella. The pencil drawing is actually a year old as of yesterday, I only know that because screenshots of me flipping out about Conchúr following me on twitter popped up in my memories yesterday. I think I'd sent it to him at about 3 in the morning (I was not in a good head space at that point in time), so probably not what he was expecting to see when he opened his phone in the morning aha

The biro version is much more recent: I got bored while sat at my desk and doing research about university courses, saw a biro, saw my old drawing of Conchúr, had an idea. I revisited my GCSE art techniques and here we are. Again, I put this up on Twitter and now (at the the time I'm writing this) when you google "Conchúr White" it's the third top image of him which is a bit mad really. I think I spent all of about 20 minutes on Conchúr but another 45 minutes on the words behind him. The words are the names of the songs on his EP 'Bikini Crops', he doesn't just really love the idea of Channing Tatum driving him around at night in a daisy print bikini... Well maybe he does but what he does in his spare time is none of my business...

TechDif

So I mentioned that the pencil drawing of Conchúr came from a rough patch in my mental health and this one is no different! In fact this one came from an even worse circumstance so we love to see it. I had a bad, bad time in July and this started as a way of distracting myself from what was going on in my head. Without it, I can't honestly say I'd still be here so even if the final product of this had been a terrible mess I would still love it for keeping me alive. However, it did not turn out to be a terrible mess!

Now that the origin of this is out the way, where do I start with TechDif? Unlike Conchúr, I haven't really talked about them on here (unless you count one brief post about Citation Needed) before so I guess I'll do it here. The Technical Difficulties are a wonderful group of 4 British fellas who have had their fair share of fun online and even before. They did a radio show at university together, which went on to become their Reverse Trivia Podcast, later moving on to a panel show called 'Citation Needed': and a game called 'Two of These People Are Lying'. All of which I would thoroughly reccomend, they're one of my go to things when I'm having a rough time. All 4 of them are excellent! Tom Scott (red top, blue jeans on the picture) has his own YouTube channel which does content aside from TechDif. If you're quite nerdy and like science, linguistics, computers, or any number of other things you may enjoy Tom's channel. He is probably best described as "The Moderator" of the group, much like a tired teacher he tries desperately to keep everyone on track with what they're meant to be doing, but usually it does not end well for him. Then we have Matt Gray (space top, holding an ice cream) who also has a channel away from TechDif stuff, he does techy electronic things and has a series called 'Will it Soft Serve?' where he puts all kinds of strange things through a soft serve machine. Matt brings a very specific energy to TechDif and I can't fully describe what that vibe is but I love it. Matt and Tom also share a YouTube channel where TOTPAL is posted and they had a series called 'The Park Bench'. Moving on to everybody's favourite Gary Brannan: Gary Brannan (SATIRE hoodie, glasses) and can I just say, what a fella he is! He's just excellent! He is the one that will argue and rip into Tom the most (not in a malicious way) and hilarity ensues. There are some episodes where he is absolutely on it, getting all the points and others where he very clearly has no idea and that's where some of his funniest quotes come from. Given how badly I was doing at the time I made this, his response to it on Twitter was so so lovely. I specifically remember one tweet where he said I'd made him happy and although it was probably a flippant comment, it just made feel alright for a bit. Yeah I might be feeling awful right now, but I've made someone else happy so that's a nice feeling. Then last but certainly not least, we have Chris Joel (buffalo check shirt, beard)! I would be lying if I said he isn’t my favourite... His sense of humor is the one I vibe with most, he can get rather dramatic in parts and can chat bollocks like a champion. He has absolutely no online presence away from TechDif and, like Rens from Temples, I fully believe he’s a cryptid and lives off in a tree somewhere. 

The picture took me about 4 days to complete, well 4 nights because I did most of it between the hours of 12 a.m. and 7a.m. - I remember watching the sun come through my window each morning. It’s made up of lots of little pieces, all cut out and stuck on; even the sky and hills are made of separate pieces of paper. Nothing was actually drawn on the piece of paper it’s all stuck on, it’s not how I usually do things but if I messed up one little but I could just redraw it rather than ruining the whole thing. The most tedious parts to make were Chris’ shirt because I had to draw each square individually and then join the as well, and cutting out the ban-hammer in the bottom right was surprisingly hard. Every single detail of the picture is a reference to the podcast/shows, I still have the plan sketch and reference list knocking about somewhere. I listened to a lot of true crime videos while making it to the point that certain parts remind me of different cases: the brandy now reminds me of Peter Tobin, and the big spiral thing reminds me of Tim McLean (very harrowing case) - sorry that fact is a bit morbid but interesting nonetheless. 

I did post this for a little bit back in July, but I received some rather awful messages so I took it down. Generally, Tom Scott/TechDif fans are lovely but there’s been a few that have taken a disliking to me for some reason so I’m hoping they don’t resurface again. I’m in a better head space now though, so even if they do I’m more equipped to deal with it this time.

Hozier

This was a quick sketch I did in April, I was getting bored with lockdown and decided to summon the bog man himself. There’s not really much more backstory than that, no poor mental health story, no fun twitter story - he’s just here. He’s vibing. I will say I’m particularly proud of his nose, I just think it’s one of the best noses I’ve ever drawn. His hand is okay, but I think that the hands on my Conchúr drawings are better. So there is the Hozi-Boi...

The Corpse Bry

I’ve talked about Bry on here before as well, I love him, he’s excellent, top lad. He is a living Tim Burton character, he’s 6′6, very skinny, and his legs are longer than my will to live. I was watching ‘The Corpse Bride’ a few weeks ago and suddenly had an idea and so ‘The Corpse Bry’ came to be. I gave him a little panda friend because the panda has always been his animal - he used to wear a panda beanie all the time and his album had a panda on the cover. Again, there’s not really a fun story behind this one, I guess it’s somewhat fun because it’s the first art I made after finishing my psychology exams in October so it was nice to actually have the time to draw.

James Bagshaw

Ginger talking about Temples for the third post in a row? it’s more likely than you think! I did this one last week, I’d had a bit of a wobbly day and had group therapy on Teams in the evening and I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on and I ended up doodling Mr James E. Bagshaw, the glitter crying fraggle man himself. It’s a bare-bones drawing that I could definitely work into more but I’m happy with it as it is to be honest. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit and add the individual bits of fringe to his jacket, just thinking about doing that makes me tired. Maybe I’ll get around to drawing the whole band at some point...

Alice in “Wonderland”

This one is from about 5(?) years ago, it’s not my typical style and was a “study” based on another artists work (basically i just had to copy this fellas work). I’ll be honest, this one has a sketchy backstory that I won’t go in to because it’s not exactly a nice one, and because of that I also won’t say who the artist is that it’s based on. Despite this, I’m still really proud of this one and I’m so sad that I never got this piece back after I got taken out the class. I’ve considered trying this style again, I’ve even joked about doing another Conchúr drawing in this style as a nod to my progression through GCSE art, eventually leading to Conchúr drawn in ink on music manuscript and stained with neon paint and dyes - it would be quite the project!

So this has been quite a lengthy post so apologies about that but life goes on. Similar to the vinyl post, I’ll probably add to this as and when I make more art. Even if no one is reading these posts, I’m enjoying making them so that’s the main thing. It’s just nice to document things and the feelings that go with them. 💕

~ Love Ginger xx 

29/11/2020

#personal✨ #art✨ #conchúr white #Tom Scott #tomscottgo #matt gray #gary brannan #chris joel #techdif #the technical difficulties #hozier #bry #bryontour #bribry #james bagshaw #temples #temples band #templesband #wonderland #cottagecore #ginger #redhead #Aesthetic #faerie

[sometimesrayjay]

-Permanent-

Summary: 

Yanderes make the grave mistake of falling asleep in the presence of their Darlings Who’s equipped with a Permanent Marker >:D

Izuku Midoryia 

Izuku’s soft snores alerted you that he was asleep. For a moment, you stopped, glancing down at his head resting against your lap, you smiled fondly, He looked so Peaceful…

Yet so Vulnerable

If he was awake he would’ve seen the Devilish Grin creep across your face. You slowly dragged your fingers across his cheek, Just as a field test to make sure he wouldn’t wake up.

He didn’t.

Slowly, You Picked up the black marker that sat across from you, finally Getting to the good part.

You nervously pressed the marker against his skin, It felt so wrong to do something like this.

But god this Was one hell of a power trip.

Slowly, you let your wrist move on it’s own, The marker leaving a black trail on his skin was so satisfying to watch. The ability to mark something and bend it to the image you had in your head was Exhilarating.

You immediately froze up as Izuku stirred in his sleep, bringing his hand up to scratch his cheek.

Then without warning he opened his eyes looking up at you. It was pretty incriminating to wake up to you looking down on him with a guilty look on your face and a marker in your hand.

What you Drew:

A tribute to his true Darling, All Might, On the wild planes that was his face, you drew to the best of your abilities, the one and only all might smiling with his hands on his hips. It was truly a sight to behold

His Reaction and Punishment:

I mean, Fairly surprised when he first looked in the mirror, He really doesn’t mind it all that much, Just kinda huffy about the Fact you used a sharpie. Has the same attitude towards the vandalizing as he would a Love bite or a hickie, just you claiming him as yours. Would 100% let you draw on him again, just with washable markers, and not on the face…

For Punishment, If you get to draw on his face, you get the same treatment. Will most likely just write his name all over you.

Overall, thinks it’s hilarious, sees drawing on each other as another fun bonding activity

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto curled up against you, letting you cradle him.

And as his breathing slowed and evened out, you knew he was asleep.

Slowly, you rubbed your knuckles against the frame of his face gently, finally pushing his hair out of the way of his face.

Suddenly, an idea struck you out of the blue.

you dug through the drawer next to the bed, careful not to draw Shoto out of his sleep, And your hand curled around a marker.

You felt like an asshole doing this to Shoto, But the plan was already in motion.

Trembling, you triple-checked that He was asleep, and finally You let yourself idly Doodle Around his face, careful not to wake him up. You could only pray that he wouldn’t be in a bad mood when he found out about this.

All of a sudden His Hand jerked to his face, only slightly smearing your doodles

Half awake, he sleepily asked “What are you doing?”

What you Drew:

You drew Little flowers framing his face along with small vines intertwining around arcs that you added.

His Reaction and Punishment:

Pure confusion, I mean sure it looked kinda cool but why??? Gets you art supplies and paper cause he genuinely thinks that you thought his face was a canvas. Honestly, wears it proudly, Goes out in public and plays a game of “Anyone who gives me a weird look is going to die.” Will probably like commision you to doodle on his arms and stuff. He’s such a good sport about it.

For punishment, There is none. I guess you could consider him going out in public with that as a bit embarrassing, But he just sees no reason to punish you at all.

He loves it. Always gets into arguments with middle aged moms at target over it.

Katsuki Bakugou



His body was strewn across the bed, And you were also extremely bored.

What great timing.

I imagine Bakugou being a heavy sleeper, So you would have any problems, at least in the moment.

You grinned down at Bakugo’s sleeping form as you leaned in with a Marker

“This is what you get for handcuffing me you mother fucker” You whispered under your breath as you pressed the marker against his face.

Adreneline pumped through your veins as you already had an image in mind.

You let your hand guide you, Besides, it was to late to go back now.

You would’ve done more, if it wasn’t for you not noticing Bakugo’s open eyes and his hand gripping your wrist hard enough to definitely leave a bruise

“the fuck are you doing?”

What you drew:

A giant Penis. There’s no sugarcoating it. Just a very large penis. Large circles surrounded his eyes, and His nose represented the shaft. You were weirdly proud of yourself, it was perfect, Although Bakugou wasn’t really singing the same tune

His Reaction and Punishment:

Pissed. Absolutely Livid, Yells at you for like 5 hours, But it’s very hard to take a man With a penis face seriously. Would like never let you near a pencil or pen or marker ever again. You wounded his pride, So he spends the next few days sulking. (Don’t forget to snap a few pics)

For punishment, Besides yelling at you, Will force you to take a bath with him and make you scrub his face until Everything and I mean everything is gone. Will not let you leave until his face is clean, even if you have to go to the bathroom.

But it honestly was all worth it. Plus to his spite when your in public, your go-to nickname for him is now Penis Face

Hitoshi Shinsou

Your Body was trapped in between his arms, His face buried into your shoulder as he slept. You however, were wide awake.

You somehow managed to pry yourself from his iron grip as you rolled off the bed.

Shinso is a blanket hogger (fight me) And in the spur of the moment, you set out to get revenge.

You snuck back into the room wielding the mighty weapon that was The Permanant Marker.

You were going to avenge yourself, the many nights Shinso left you Blanket-less!

you snuck towards him, immediately going in for the kill. You had to make quick work of him as you were 99.99% sure you had about 3 minutes max before he woke up.

You were determined to not get caught in the act! In fact, you were-

“What are you doing?”

What you Drew:

Ass. His Face was a valley of Ass cheeks. Watching Him go about his daily life was Hilarious.

His Reaction and Punishment:

W h at? He’s just in Disbelief for a few minutes, Just staring at himself in the mirror. After like 10 minutes he turns around slowly and looks down at you. It’s Hilarious to him, and Ticks him off all at the same time.

For Punishment, He immediately throws you over his shoulder and drags you to the bedroom *cough*cough* Honestly has a good laugh about it, just make sure to help him clean it off, if you can even walk.

It was Amusing, But don’t do it again.

#yandere shoto x reader #yandere shinso x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere izuku x reader #yandere bnha #yandere reactions

[hanadolphieron]

lunar artist!yeojin; chapter three~

warnings; space battles, yeojin and reader have beef now

genre; sci-fi, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst

pairing; im yeojin x gender neutral!reader

word count; 2.3k

summary; your small crater town on the moon was rarely visited. one day, artist!yeojin travels all the way from mars to paint the serene, wistful scenery of your planet.

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

after the two of you suffered through that exhaustingly awkward moment, you both headed up to bed.

you gave yeojin your bed and snatched the sofa next to it. you could keep an eye on her that way.

not that she would attempt anything.

but you never know.

she might attack the fish who bit her and exact revenge.

and that would not end well.

yeojin sets on a solo adventure to find the bathroom, and you, completely oblivious to her quest, shuffle around the kitchen, cleaning up the small mess made by the pretzels.

she fails, somehow, and comes wandering back towards you. 

“where is the bathroom?” 

not saying a word, you lead her to it. 

“ah.”

“yeah. you can shower if you want to, all that dancing must have tired out your small legs.”

“hey! i’m not that short!” she says, reaching out to smack your arm. however, you’re too fast, and scramble like an egg into your room before she can catch you. 

you hear the bathroom door close. you’re safe. for now.

sitting on your bed, you write. jotting down notes about your emotions, what you’ve felt throughout the day, random doodles, it’s what you do when you’re bored.

you’ve never felt embarrassed that you do this, i mean technically your job is being a writer, considering your journalist occupation. although your company hasn’t communicated with you in, let’s see, 3 months? yeah. 

however, now that someone else is around you, you feel like you have to hide it a little. it reminds you of the way you’d feel when you were a kid, all nervous because their crush is near them, and they just have to impress them.

no idea why you feel like this around yeojin. it’s not like she’ll judge you. i mean, she will, but the connection between the two of you is already too strong to completely break, despite it only having been a week since you met.

thinking of yeojin seems to manifest her somehow, and she appears in your doorway.

“good evening,” you say.

she nods and mobilizes towards the bed. flinging herself upon it, you flinch back a little, still not used to fast-paced moves.

now that yeojin is settled, (although there is a lot of rustling) you lay back on the sofa, curled up in a fluffy blanket and a surplus of pillows. 

you used to sleep out under the stars, but you’ve grown so used to seeing them that they don’t bring the same kind of magic they used to. it’s pretty sad, honestly, that beauty seems to disappear after a while. 

yeojin breaks into your thoughts, “you said we could go ice-skating.”

she doesn’t phrase it as a question, but you know what she means.

“let’s go then,” you respond, effortlessly dragging yourself up from your den and treading barefooted through the house.

yeojin follows, her feet tapping quietly against the floor. 

going into the edge of the door, you look at the ice skates. you have two pairs. one for you, obviously, you do live here. the other one you bought in a romantic mood, hopelessly yearning for some long-lost love to come find you and ask you to dance on the frozen lake under the stars.

right now, the time has come for them to serve their purpose. not exactly how you were expecting it, but nevertheless, there is a, well, i guess you’d call yeojin a “love interest” wanting to ice-skate with you under the frosting of sparkles shimmering above.

yeojin reaches down, snatching the pair you just mentioned. wordlessly, you take your pair.

you go outside into the freezing air, which is more or less not even air. both of you are barefoot, having just gotten out of bed and neither of you are hooligans and sleep with socks on.

you don’t complain, neither does yeojin. she’s used to the hot atmosphere of mars, so it’s surprising she doesn’t react to the cold, but then again she’s also used to concealing emotions and being a warrior rivalling the spartans.

once you’re at the edge of the icy lake, you plop down on the ground and slide the skates on. yeojin does the same.

“i’ve never skated before,” she says.

“as expected. well, it’s okay, i’ll catch you if you fall,” you tell her, giving an easy smile.

you, on the other hand, are excellent at skating. it’s one of the only activities you’ve been able to enjoy here, and you’ve certainly spent lots of time on it. 

standing up, you start off without yeojin. i mean come on, you need to impress her at least once.

starting off with your left foot, you move up to a soft, swift pace. 

gliding across the ice, you swirl and pirouette in the air, landing on one of your feet, spinning.

you don’t look back at yeojin. instead, you quickly skate across the long side of the lake, going faster than yeojin ever thought was possible with ease. 

after performing a few more jumps, and even skating backwards for some of them, you slide back over to yeojin.

she’s standing there, wobbling a little, and practically falls over once she sees you heading towards her.

“wow, that was, woah, i,” she’s speechless.

you laugh a little, reveling in your moment of glory. taking her hand, (which is pretty brave for you) and help her onto the ice.

her small figure keeps the amount of imbalance to a minimum, and she seems to have pretty good control over her limbs, so the first few steps go well.

unfortunately, yeojin loses her footing after attempting to go faster, and flails backwards, almost bringing you with her.

however, your confidence on the ice and long arms stop her.

you catch her.

she’s now being held bridal style in your arms.

this is, well, one of the best things you’ve ever experienced. you’ve never held a girl like this, and wow does it feel nice.

she’s pretty light, and is floating in your hold.

her hair is soft, and it brushes up against your skin, making you shiver and giggle as it tickles you.

you’re not as awkward as when you’re on solid land, and manage to lift yeojin upright, still holding her hand.

she seems flustered, her cheeks dusted with a light layer of pink dust, matching the sigil on her forehead.

this seems to boost yeojin’s confidence, and her nerves disappear knowing she has a knight in shining armor ready to catch her if she falls.

going faster this time, yeojin squeaks along the ice, struggling in places, but she seems to be getting the hang of it.

“can i try one of those twirl things?” she asks you. her impulsiveness never fails to surprise you.

“no,” you chuckle, “but we can do this.”

you turn towards her, lifting one of her hands up. yeojin stares up at you, confused. 

“turn,” you whisper. 

she gets the memo, and awkwardly lifting one foot up, attempts a turn. 

you guide her through it. luckily, her hair doesn’t smack you in the face, you were a bit afraid of that.

the stars glitter above you, a constant reminder of your miniscule existence. it’s comforting somehow.

but right now you don’t feel small.

you feel bigger than you’ve ever felt before. like you’re more than just flesh with an intelligent, imaginative mind.

you’re part of something else, a feeling, an emotion, an act, you’re not sure. 

but you feel alive. and that’s all that matters.

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

“ehg,” a groan awakens you from a deep slumber.

yeojin is conscious, and ready to take on the world.

not really though, she seems a bit lost actually.

blinking and grumbling to herself, she sits up, blankets strangling her.

you watch her, one eye open.

“i have a plan,” she says suddenly, and with a massive burst of energy, leaps out of bed.

“ow,” she growls at herself, having damaged her ankle from the excitement of her actions. 

continuing on to the kitchen, completely unaware of the fact that you are awake, and does not care. 

she is hungry, and needs food.

you follow her, dragging yourself out of bed much slower than her gymnastics-worthy jump.

she’s already gotten into the pantry. you shove her to the side, looking in yourself. she flings open the other door and pushes you over.

grabbing a box of cereal, you sit down. yeojin snatches another one, than looks in the fridge, snatching a bowl and spoon on her way there. you don’t ask how she knows where all your cutlery is. probably guessed.

sitting down, gobbling up her food with the same repulsive but somehow endearing way of munching, she finishes off the bowl in no time. 

you expect her to make another one, but instead she licks her lips, looks at you and asks, “no milk?”

“huh?”

“you’re not having milk with your cereal.”

“milk is a drink and i can’t believe you eat it as a gravy.”

“well. i don’t agree.”

“sucks for you.”

“no it doesn’t. i have nice, soft cereal and you have crunchy cruanchy cereal.”

“you mean i have a beautiful, crisp breakfast and you have a mushy swamp.”

“no. that wasn’t what i meant.”

you open your mouth to retort, but she continues, “i have a plan.”

“oh wow. would you like to explain it?”

“no.”

“fine,” you say, but barely get a chance to spit the word out before being dragged to your feet.

“hey, what are you-”

yeojin pulls you towards the door. you follow her. what’s the worst that could happen?

‘wait here.”

“okay,” you comply, exhausted. how come sleep just makes you more tired? you were much more energetic last night, retreating to your bed with a wide smile on your face, eyes looking up at the ceiling, unable to close without seeing the adventures of the evening.

you wait. and wait. 

you hear an engine start. 

wait- you hear an engine start? you don’t have a vehicle? who? what? where? when? why? how? 

flying around the corner, yeojin, with a helmet, boots, and a whole driver’s outfit, sits atop some sort of mechanical thingo that you have never seen in your life.

you stand there, dumfounded.

“wha- where did you get that?”

“built it.”

“what do you mean you built it?! how? how talented are you?!”

“eh,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, “i’m made for this type of stuff.”

she are speechless and continue to stand there.

“well?” she asks, “are you coming?”

“we’re going somewhere?” you have no idea what is going on.

“yeah, that was my plan.”

“where are we going,” you are already moving toward her, sitting behind her, holding onto her back.

“somewhere,” she says. you can’t see her face now, but you’re sure she’s smirking.

before you’ve even a tiny bit situated, yeojin accelerates, throwing you to the side. you are left clinging onto her waist for dear life.

you can’t see much of the scenery flying past around you, but you think yeojin is going north, towards the lunar capital, bexyim.

still wondering how yeojin managed to find the parts to make an whatever this is, i mean it’s so fast? how did she do this? you don’t have any oil either? this madwoman is more powerful than you thought.

you gaze out to the side. something catches your eye. fire.

“wait, yeojin, stop!” you yell, your voice getting lost in the wind. she halts the vehicle, throwing you forward. you get out, looking up at the sky.

“what is that,” you say to yourself, not even realizing you’re speaking.

“come on,” yeojin says, sounding urgent, like she doens’t want you too see what’s happening, “we should go, i’m sure it’s nothing.”

but you stay there, looking up at the stars. this time, they’re not alone.

burning metal flies down to the surface of the moon a few miles away from you. you can smell the smoke from here.

it’s coming from up above. from a battle.

the sounds of laser and missiles hurts your ears. there are ships firing at each other, sending one another down to the ground, ruthlessly destroying each other.

and the colors. you know them well. silver and red. moon and mars. and the last silver one just fell.

you turn around, looking at yeojin. this is why she tried to get you to look away. away from the way her planet is murdering yours.

“this? this is what your planet is doing?” you glare at her.

“it’s not my fault, y/n, how could i stop this?” yeojin says defensively.

“why did you leave so early last week?” you question. it’s all piecing together now. the sigil on her forehead isn’t just a mark of the marsians. it’s a mark of the marsian warriors.

“i- y/n i don’t have a choice!” you don’t listen, already turning away. 

yeojin, the girl you were falling in love with, is fighting against your planet. the one you live on. the one where she is standing right now.

you start running. you don’t know where you going. but you have to get away from her.

you can’t believe it. there you were, falling in love with a person who is actively taking part in the long-standing oppression of your planet. 

you should have known better. marsians are always like that. never valuing peace. never caring about other’s lives, only worrying about themselves.

you go faster, heading towards bexyim. you can see the skyline over the burning horizon. it looks dark, darker than when you first saw it. 

it always happens like this. the “love of your life” betrays you and you run. escape from people and the disappointments they bring. 

this time, you’re escaping someone different. someone who you never thought would betray you, she had a warmer feel, one that didn’t seem manipulative, it felt honest.

but you still run.

and yeojin doesn’t bother to come after you.

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

masterlist ~ previous ~ next

#femifics #loona astrology #loona imagines #loona fluff #loona angst #loona reactions #loona scenarios #loona x reader #loona tarot #im yeojin #yeojin x reader #yeojin fluff #yeojin angst #yeojin imagines #yeojin imagine

[franeridart]

Anon said: How are those doodles?? Your "doodles" are a million times better than any of my finished drawings (i love them btw they are so f*cking cute!!!!)

AHHHH THANK YOU!!!! They really are doodles though haha 

Anon said: What are your OCs' names?? They are so cool I'm in love with them ♡♡

If you’re talking about the four in the latest original art post I made, then they’re Chris (with the undercut), Josh (with the long hair), Max (with the scarf) and Leo (with the eyepatch)!! I’m so so happy you like them, they’re old enough to be part of me by now so seeing them liked is always such a warm feeling!!

Anon said: Do you take prompts/suggestions? Sorry I don’t know your policy but would you consider drawing Bokuro ft jealous!Bo? I’ve always headcanoned that Kuroo is really popular with both boys and girls because of his confidence and effortless charm; whether he’s oblivious to this attention despite his intelligence or aware of it yet ignoring it is anyone’s guess~ I always look forward to your art and recently got into Haikyuu!! And damn, I do ship Kuroken too but you have me addicted to Bokuro now *_* ||  Aah finally got the FAQ open (blame mobile tumblr for being a bitch), and yup my last ask is def a suggestion and I hope you’ll consider using it~ Somewhat unrelated, do you regularly add stuff to your red bubble? I love your Kiribaku art but I’m a huge fan of Momo (&Todomomo) and Kuroo (&Bokuro), is there any chance you have something in the works with them up for sale soon? Thanks

GOSH thank you so much for liking my old hq stuff enough to ask for more!! I’m not sure if I’ll get back to drawing bokuro soon, honestly? So I can’t promise that if I’ll go through with the suggestion it’ll be soon, but I’ll definitely keep it in mind for when the mood strikes!! And about the shop, I add to it whenever I feel there’s enough stuff piled up to? Though I plan to start adding more often than that from now on - I don’t really have anything for momo and kuroo to add on rb that isn’t already there, but as soon as I’ll have more of either of them I’ll remember to put them up! Thank you so so much for the interest in buying from me!!

Anon said: Ok but that Kirishima art was absolutely amazing

THANK YOU!!!!! 

Anon said: Hi! First I really really love your art and I make this little muffed scream every time I see your stuff pop up on me feed. You’re amazing!! Second, can I ask how you do shadows? I can never make them look right or lay across my character correctly. Yours always look so amazing

Thank you!!!!!! I actually used to have that same problem with shadows? However much I kept track of where the lightsource was and the shapes I was working with it always looked wrong, somehow - the way I fixed it was by adding more shadows, actually. If you’ll pick any of my colored pieces you’ll see I don’t really put down lights all that often, which means the base color ends up being my light color too, and everything else is just shadows getting darker the further I go from where the light hits the object I’m shading - generally, I use a soft tool like a brush or a marker to very roughly put down where I want the shadows to go, and then using the same tool I smudge and darken it till it looks right to me. I can’t really explain it any better than this? But I have a small tutorial for how I do this in my art tips tag, if you wanna give it a look!

Anon said: I come back to look at your art almost every day, especially when I’m feeling down; so I’d just like to thank you for posting your beautiful art for all of us to experience. On behalf of all of your followers, Thank you! :,)))

Anon you’re gonna make me cryyyyy!!!!!! ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; thank you so so much, both for this ask and for liking my stuff to begin with! <3

Anon said: Your anatomy is so so so so good! And don’t even get me started on your colours! Perfection

GOSH I still have a long long way to go, but thank you so much for thinking so!!! It makes all the effort feel worth it! ( TT^TT)<3

Anon said: I love everything about ur art! from the sketches to the full colored pieces, it's the highlight of my week whenever you post! I was actually wondering where you get the ideas for clothes! I always see the variety and was wondering if you came up with them or are they from somewhere ^v^ keep up the amazing work!!

It’s a mixture of both, actually! I like to look at clothing, both irl (on people I see, or stuff in the shops I visit, or even pics and movies and tv shows!) and drawn too - in anime and illustrations and manga and cartoons! I look at them and try to remember how they’re made, and then when I draw I think about it all and come up with my own by mixing stuff I liked from all those things - unless I see a piece of clothing that’d work just right as it is on a character, in which case I just draw it either as best as I can from memory or, if I have it, using a ref! It’s one of the things I find the most fun when drawing, I’m glad to hear you like what I come up with!! Thank you so much!!!

Anon said: Thoughts on KiriTodo? Because I. Am. Hooked.

I like it!! I don’t actively ship it, since my only actual ship for Kirishima is kiribaku, but I like the look of him with todo, aesthetically, and their friendship is highly entertaining to me, which means their potential relationship in a romantic setting is too - and, as we’ve seen with my very random dip into the non-existent kirijiro fandom, that’s more than enough for me to decide maybe I’ll wanna go and draw for them, one of these days haha

Anon said: Haven't seen KiriSero or KamiSero Fusions yet! Got some ideas for those? (Filling out the Bakusquad pentagon XD)

I really never got around to drawing those, did I! That’s actually surprising, hadn’t you pointed that out I’d have never realized - I’m not doing fusions anymore right now, but maybe I could make an exception for these two............ if the inspiration strikes, why not!

Anon said: Did you see the newer bnha episodes?! Miritama made it feel like a shoujo... (In a good way)

THIS IS SO OLD OH GOD sorry I didn’t get around to answering this sooner!!! The miritama relationship is really wonderful, isn’t it? They make me cry so much, soft warm boys, so in love............. TT’’’TT <3<3<3

Anon said: This whole year has been a trainwreck for me and your blog was one of the few things that stayed constant, so thank you for being my favorite spot on the internet. Hope you keep drawing and I love your art so much!

AH, THANK YOU! I really really hope I’ll keep on drawing too!!! I’ll do my best 💪💪

Anon said: Some days I’ll just sit in bed at 2 am and be like “I need a hug” and then I read ur blog and it’s like a safe mental hug. So thanks for that.

That’s!!!!!!!!!! so sweet oh my god!!!!!!!!! ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; I’m so glad my stuff can make you feel warm like that, anon!! <3<3

Anon said: So it says you don't do requests in your faq does that include commissions as well

Not right now!! Maybe sometime at the beginning of next month, ✨Stay Tuned✨

Anon said: Hellooo hope you are having a good day. It's always so fun to scroll through your blogs and enjoy your art 💕💕 Idk if it's a little weird to ask but I also love your old aokaga art and I was wondering if you had any interest left in that fandom or would ever consider drawing for it again? xx

Gods, I really don’t know? It’s been so long since I’ve last engaged with anything related to knb........ I still do love the ship though, so, maybe? I really have no clue, I might though!! Thank you so much for liking even such old things from me!!!!

#fran answers #................i'm deeply ashamed of how long it took me to answer some of these #in my defense i was taking an unplanned break #but also it shouldn't have been unplanned so #i'm very sorry about leaving you all hanging so long orz #let's try to not have that happen again any time soon

[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: You’re An Artist

Jin:

Several eyes looked around the gallery at your pieces of work, showcased on all four works for everyone to marvel at in excitement, impressed by the things you’d created.

“All those long nights seem to have been worth it,” Jin whispered, coming up beside you, wrapping his arm proudly around your waist.

“I never thought I’d get to this point, at times all I wanted to do was give up and just cancel all of this,” you giggled, taking it all in around you.

He chuckled, resting his head on yours. “It’s been hard, but I’m so proud of what you’ve achieved. Look at all these people, all here to celebrate how amazing you are.”

You smiled lightly, feeling him kiss the top of your head. “I’ve already had a few enquiries about future projects, this really could be the start of something good for me.”

“People would be crazy not to want a piece of your work when you’re just so talented. I might even have to get you to do something for me,” he grinned.

“My diary is pretty busy,” you teased, “but I guess I could make an exception for the man whose helped me get through all of this.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m just so proud of you.”

Yoongi:

He sighed heavily when he spotted the time, slipping out of bed when he heard your footsteps still upstairs in your studio trying to finish the piece you’d been working tirelessly on.

“Surely you must be tired by now, it’s no good working when you’re sleepy,” he spoke, making you jump as he entered the room to find you.

“I’m nearly done, I promise. I’ve got a couple of blends to do and then I’ll come down and go to bed,” you assured, offering an unconvincing smile.

He shook his head, looking at what you’d done, “I’m saying this because I love you, but if you don’t do this in the morning, you’ll regret it. You can barely keep your eyes open now.”

You sighed, knowing he was right. “I just really wanted to get this done tonight so I could start working on something new tomorrow for a client.”

“You’ve worked so hard already today, just give yourself some time to recover, you know you don’t produce your best when you’re tired,” he argued, trying desperately to convince you.

“Fine, but I’ll be up early tomorrow,” you whispered, caving into him, “you best be prepared to give me a lot of cuddles for this.”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything jagi.”

Hoseok:

He stepped in to find you drawing on your canvas, editing a few bits to make sure you had the layout perfect of your next commission, not wanting to mess it up.

“That looks super cool,” he smiled, leaning over you to get a sneak peek of what it was you were drawing. “Are you happy with it?”

“I think so, I just can’t seem to get the curve of the mountain right at the top, it keeps looking wonky,” you grumbled, placing your pencil down in your lap.

Hobi picked it up, looking at you for permission to have a go. “I used to do a lot of landscape doodling when I was writing songs, it was something I learnt to perfect."

You watched, as he drew the angle perfectly, taking your breath away. “I’ve been sat here for an hour stressing that it wasn’t going right, and then you come along.”

“Sometimes you just need another pair of eyes,” he smiled, “but I’m still nowhere near as talented as you are, I’m not going to steal your crown anytime soon.”

“I don’t know, I’m going to have to credit you now,” you joked, “this will be the first piece drawn by Y/N and Hoseok together.”

“Trust me, I did nothing, it’s all on you.”

Namjoon:

You smiled with relief, walking down the stairs to show Namjoon the piece you’d just finished, finding him laid in bed, scrolling through his phone, waiting for you to appear.

“Well, it’s finished,” you giggled, turning it around once you had captured his attention, watching as his eyes lit up seeing the finished product, you’d worked so hard on.

“That’s beautiful sweetheart, you’ve really excelled yourself with this one,” he complimented, taking it from you as you held it out to show him properly.

You smiled, perching on the end of the bed, seeing how tired he was. “I’m sorry I didn’t come down sooner, I just really wanted to get this one done tonight.”

His head shook, patting the space beside him, “you don’t need to apologise, I know how keen you are to finish things, and by the looks of this, I can see why.”

“I’m really excited to hand it over tomorrow, hopefully they’ll like it,” you giggled, resting your tired frame against Namjoon’s lightly for a small rest.

“I’m sure whoever it is for, they will love it, because I sure do,” he assured you, pressing a delicate kiss to the top of your head. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re too kind Joon, thank you.”

Jimin:

You smiled as Jimin walked in with two mugs of hot chocolate, a packet of biscuits hanging from his back pocket, sitting in the chair at the back of your studio.

“I thought you could do with a little company,” he smiled, placing the mugs down, walking over to you, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“This is a lovely surprise, I thought you’d be busy too,” you replied, dropping your paintbrush, making a quick beeline for the biscuits, hearing your tummy rumble.

He chuckled, taking one you handed from him. “I’m going to stay here tonight, with you, until you finish what it is, you’re working on.”

“You don’t need to do that, I’m sure you’re busy too, I’m honestly alright by myself,” you tried to reason, but he was having none of it, shaking his head.

“Don’t be silly, I’ve missed being around you over the past couple of days,” he smiled, “it’ll be nice for us to just spend some time together.”

Your smile grew, full of affection. “That would be good, I’ve missed you Chim. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work recently, it’s just a really hard time right now.”

“I understand, this is still perfect for me.”

Taehyung:

He stood beside you watching as you signed your name to the corner of the canvas, dropping the pencil as the big piece was finally finished, after three very long weeks.

“I’m so happy it’s finally done,” you chuckled, feeling Taehyung’s arms wrap around you, “never will I do a piece as big as this ever again.”

“It’s turned out really well though, even if it has caused you so much stress,” he assured you, kissing the back of your head softly. “Are you happy with it?”

You nodded lightly, “I think so, right now I’m just so full of relief that it’s finally all sorted I can stop being so wrapped up in all of this.”

He chuckled, knowing just how hard you’d worked to make it as good as possible. “You’ve done a really good job with it; all the hard work has definitely been worth it.”

“For sure, it’s what I love to do, even if it does make me want to scream sometimes, there were certainly times when I wanted to give up, but I couldn’t,” you laughed.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he responded, “because I think this might just be your best one yet, I’m really impressed by it, you’ve done such a good job.”

“Thanks Tae, that really means a lot to me.”

Jungkook:

The door to your studio creaked open as the clock struck midnight, turning around, you smiled as you spotted Jungkook walking in with a big smile on his face.

“I thought I might find you here,” he teased, pulling his jumper tighter around his cold body, “have you any idea what time it is? It’s so late.”

“I know, but I’ve just been busy,” you innocently smiled in reply, giving him a squeeze to warm him up, “what are you doing here anyway? You should be sleeping.”

His head nodded, “I couldn’t sleep knowing you were still here probably stressing over nothing. I just needed to come and make sure that you were doing alright.”

A soft smile grew, running your hands through his hair. “That’s really cute Kook, but I promise I’m doing just fine, just got a lot of things to do, and not a lot of time.”

“Do you think you’ll be much longer? I can stay and drive you home if you fancy, I don’t feel happy thinking about you walking home alone at this time,” he spoke.

“I don’t think I’ve got much left to do, I won’t be much longer,” you replied, “if you want to wait you can, but you really don’t have to if you’re tired.”

“I’m staying, and it is because I want to.”

---

Masterlist

#bts #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts fluff #jin imagine #yoongi imagine #hoseok imagine #namjoon imagine #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine #jungkook imagine #jin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #kpop #kpop imagine #kpop reactions

[aquainnie]

Valentines Day with Stray Kids ♡

♡⋆⁎ Person of Interest: OT8 Stray Kids

♡⋆⁎ Genre: Tons of Fluff, Literally 0 Angst, School AU

♡⋆⁎ Requested? Y/N

♡⋆⁎ Word Count: 2207

♡⋆⁎ Additional Info: Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you’re spending it with the person/people you love, whether it’s romantic or platonic! I have a couple of notes about this reaction.

This took 3 days to write and is my longest piece of writing!

Chan and Hyunjin’s are based off of personal experiences, of course without the confession part. (I’m giving all of my friends candy this year and my school is selling wooden roses and I WOULD buy one for myself but dang the line is way too long and I need FOOD, they’re sold at lunch)

The reactions alternate from the member confessing to you confessing, so be aware of that!

Enjoy reading, and have an awesome Valentine’s Day! Please know if you're alone this year, you can still spend this holiday with your friends and family. Spread the love today!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

c h a n ♡

Chan was always aware about the observant side of you; the side that over analyzes everything to see if there’s a hidden message. That’s why, to confess to you on Valentines Day, he wanted to put your skills to the test.

Fundip: the gift Chan would be giving out to the majority of his classmates, of course, including you. Each one of them was personalized to the person getting the small pack of sugar, which helped Chan with his plan. His plan? Every single pack would have a smiley face on it, except yours, which would instead have a heart on it.

Soon after passing the candy out before class, his friend, who knew of his scheme, Changbin, nudged Chan on the shoulder.

“I think it worked, dude. She’s asking people around her something,” Changbin subtly says to Chan, who’s palms were getting sweatier by the second. You eyed Chan suspiciously, who made eye contact back. Grabbing your blue raspberry flavored pack, you raised it in the air with your two fingers and pointed at it dramatically, eyebrows raising up in exaggeration. Chan laughed silently in response, waving you off as to say, “Talk to you later after class.”

Right after class, you immediately caught Chan by the doorway, waiting for you. Before he opened his mouth to explain, obvious blush on his face, you spoke first.

“Nice candy. And yes, I’ll be your valentine.”

m i n h o ♡

Listen: it wasn’t your fault you fell in love with Minho, the “bad boy” in your class this year. I mean, his leather jacket, flirty attitude, countless pranks in class, intimidating tone...

Is that a cat airpod case?

Regardless, by now you’ve fallen head over heels with your classmate, who you’ve only spoken to once or twice due to your timid nature. But this year on Valentines Day, you aren’t missing your chance to make a move.

And you immediately started regretting making that card last night. You saw a small pile of gifts Minho got, but even though it was clear he rejected all those girls, you couldn’t help but tremble.

Deciding you couldn’t present your gift directly to him, you set the lousy folded piece of paper you ever so delicately drew inside of it on his desk, set off to the side of the other failed presents.

As soon as the bell ring, signaling the end of class, you attempted to rush out of the room, only to be stopped by Minho.

“Hey Y/N!” He called out, which you mistakenly turned around in response. You were only a few feet from the door when he started approaching you, your feet taking to the back of the wall.

“Do you make this?”

You nodded, trembling at his response. This was it, you were going to get rejected, feeling like a loser holding your textbooks tightly around your chest.

Then, Minho lit up into a bright smile.

“I love it! Those cats you drew were awesome, they even kinda resemble my own lil’ kittens! And yes, I’ll be your valentine.”

c h a n g b i n ♡

For once, you and Changbin agreed on the same thing: that your friend group made a stupid event. I mean, secret santa, valentines edition? Then again, they’re your friends, might as well play along and draw a name from the hat.

“Changbin.”

Well, at least both of you announced to the group that your gift would be very minimalistic. Then again, you had a tiny crush on him..

Might as well put a little effort into it.

Valentines Day arrives swiftly, everyone having their gifts ready in white, paper bags.

“Okay, I guess everyone can start passing out gifts!” Someone finally announces and soon, everyone was turning left and right passing out their gift.

You notice Changbin standing there silently, clutching his bag quite tightly. You approach him from the side, extending your arm holding the bag. Changbin raises his eyebrows in surprise, looking up at you before taking the bag and gently opening it.

“Snorlax?! Ah, you should see my gift for you..” He pulls out a small Snorlax pushie out of your bag as you giggle at his shock. It was your turn to be shocked however, as he gave you his bag. Inside..

“My own Gyu? Oh, it has a pink bow on it, cute!” You smile, examining the soft plushie in your hand.

“Look at the tag..” you’re able to hear Changbin grumble out. You look up to see him scratching his ear, his cheeks a very faint red that you’re barely able to make out. You open the tag and read what’s written on it.

“Be my valentine?”

h y u n j i n ♡ 

“Man up!” They said,

“It’ll be fun!” They said,

“Yeah right,” you mumbled quietly as you clutched a dollar in your hand, waiting behind tons of people to purchase this artificial rose.

Honestly, your school is a genius for thinking about selling fake roses and giving them out at the end of the day. With relationships blossoming everyday in your grade level, they might as well double the amount of them in a single week.

Also, they’re getting tons of profit from this event, especially with you as one of their daily customers. Always a blue rose, always with your unreadable signature at the bottom of the note. It’s not like your massive crush, Hyunjin, can read it anyways, right? And you’re happy you can see him smile everytime he gets one. All because of you.

Valentines Day, you don’t feel alone carrying a single real blue rose in your hands as you scanned your grade level. Huge teddy bears, bouquets of flowers, some may say you under did it. But you know Hyunjin’s the type to not put on a show, so you shall do the same.

“Hi Hyunjin.. Here’s your last rose!” You shyly say to the boy sitting at his desk, doodling in his journal. He looks up, definitely not expecting you to be the one purchasing the blue roses.

“You’re the one who—?” You cut him off, nodding. He starts laughing at clapping, making you giggle as well. He gets up from his seat and gives you a tight hug.

“Be..my valentine?” You managed to say, still overwhelmed by what’s happening.

“Of course!”

j i s u n g ♡

Jisung was panicking. Going around the dorms left and right, asking all of his hyungs for advice (because let’s be honest, if he goes to the three maknaes of the group, he’ll become even more of a laughing stock than he already is).

“But hyung!!” Jisung waddled back and forth on Chan’s bed, arms locked around his legs.

Chan sighed once more. “Well, what does she like?”

“I already told you, I’m not sure!!”

“Then, I don’t know, get them a stuffed animal? Make them a song?” At the second suggestion, Jisung’s ears perked up.

“A song! That’s a good idea, hyung! Thanks!!” Jisung suddenly jumped out of the bed and scrambled to his room, leaving Chan wildly confused.

A week later, as the classroom was decorated with heart streams and colored paper, you sat with an empty heart for another year. Of course no one would want you as a valentine, you’re too “cold” and “quiet.” That is, until your good friend Jisung plopped into the seat in front of you.

“Listen to this,” he demanded as he placed his phone on your desk and slid it over, a song on the screen. You looked at him suspiciously, in which he smiled wider. You took the phone and held it near your ear, making sure the volume was loud enough for you to hear yet quiet enough for no one else to.

Needless to say, when the short song was finished, you were flooded with emotion as you gave the phone back to its owner.

“Yes, I’ll be your valentine.”

f e l i x ♡

With both of you as the class clowns, it was incredibly easy for you to think of a way to ask Felix to be your valentine. Really, he shows you the latest memes everyday at break, how could you not make your own and turn them into valentine cards?

“Y/N..! You never give me memes back, when will you get some for me?” Felix whines to you at break time as you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Find me three Pewdiepie memes and I’ll give you some tomorrow,” you negotiated, clearly not getting a good response from Felix.

“I swear you like THAT Felix more than me! I’m hurt, Y/N,” Felix starts to fake cry, wiping his dry face with his finger.

“Go ahead and cry, you big baby.”

“You suck!”

The bell rings, and Felix heads back to his seat.

“Okay, do I still suck if I have some memes for you?” It was the next day, and despite that Felix didn’t bring you your Pewdiepie memes, you still wanted to give him his present.

Once you turn your phone around that you discreetly pulled out of your bag, Felix immediately starts laughing.

“Donut ever leave deez nuts1!!1!1” He says out loud, you laughing along with him too.

After you calm down, you asked him. “Do you get the joke?”

“Yeah, the donut and the deez nuts— Oh— oh!” He looks up at you with wide eyes, and seeing you fall back into your chair with laughter confirms his thoughts.

“Is this your way of asking me to—?” You cut him off with a nod, still bubbling with giggles.

“I— Yeah! I would’ve asked you but I’m a coward so— Woah!”

he hits the woah afterwards

s e u n g m i n ♡

Seungmin likes to think he has two personalities. There’s the “Quiet Prankster” side and the “Hopeless Romantic” side. The more Seungmin thought about it, the more he realized he probably got the second side from Day6, but that’s not the point here! He has to make his Valentine's Day gift extra special, just for you!

After using several of Minho’s post-it notes to scribble down some ideas you would like, he finally settled on two. The very original and very romantic bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. Seungmin facepalmed at his originality, but knowing you, you would like anything, so it’s better to keep it traditional.

Right?

Wrong. Oh dear god he was absolutely wrong for once.

Because when the 14th arrived and Seungmin came to school clutching his small bouquet of sunflowers and a heart shaped box of chocolates, you stared at him wide. 

“These are for me?” You asked, keeping your distance as you pointed at the gifts.

“Yeah, why? Is there something wrong?” Seungmin started to worry.

You waved him off with your frantic hands. “No, it’s fine, it’s just...”

“I’m allergic to chocolate/flowers.”

“O-Oh.” Seungmin looked down at the objects in his hand as if they were his enemy. Suddenly embarrassed, his ears grew bright red.

You laughed at his attempt, but still wanted to assure him it’s fine.

“It’s okay, Seungmin! I could give the flowers/chocolates to my friends if that’s okay with you. And I know you’re going to ask me this, so yes, I’ll be your valentine.”

j e o n g i n ♡

Scanning the kitchen surroundings, you knew this plan would fail. You never realized the stereotype of “covering the whole kitchen in powder” could actually come true, because it was right in front of you.

Simple sugar cookies for the sweetest boy in the classroom, Jeongin, right? Well, not very simple if you’re being honest. How did flour get to the top of your head? You weren’t even sure at that point.

Suddenly, your older brother, Woojin, stepped into the kitchen area looking down at his phone before retracing his steps to you.

“D-Do you need help?”

You whined loudly and nodded, Woojin chuckling a little bit before leaving to get a broom and dustpan.

While you told him who you were baking the cookies for (because thank god, he’s such a good older brother that you can literally tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge), you two sweeped up the floor and threw a new batch of cookies into the oven.

“I think I got it by now. Woo, thank you so much!”

“Yup! I’ll be in my room if you need any more help.” You two salute each other off, leaving you standing right in front of the oven waiting for the batter to cook.

With some homemade icing recipe you found online, you frosted the heart shaped cookies with cute messages. Gently tossing them into a box, you slipped it into the fridge and slept anxiously for the next day.

Before class, you nervously tapped on your crush’s shoulder as he sat in his desk, fiddling with a pencil. Jeongin whipped around to see you holding out a box of homemade cookies to him.

“Hi, uh, I’ve actually liked you for a long time and wondered if you could be my valentine?”

Jeongin beamed. “Since the gift is as sweet as the person who gifted it, of course!”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids blurbs #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids valentines #stray kids valentines day #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

[arthur-morgan-slap-my-ass]

The Progress of Arthur Morgan | Chapter 2

A/N: I’m pretty satisfied with the response to the fic!!!! I really really REALLY enjoyed writing it and quite frankly, it’s my baby! Special thanks to @verai-marcel​ for chatting briefly about it with me, you rock??? Also, remember this fic has a playlist! You can see it below!

Playlist

Word Count: 5,200 words

Chapters: 1 | 3

After a number of sessions in, roughly three months and half of having gotten to know him, Arthur entered the room slowly, somewhat avoidant, but he did offer a half-smile when you greeted him. The man seemed disheveled, a creased t-shirt with a perhaps too beaten shirt on top, his hair tousled to the side like he had just woken up and bags under his eyes. You shifted somewhat uncomfortably after he sat down, quiet as a hermit.

“You seem quiet today,” you said in a soft voice, taking your place across from him, “would you like to talk about that?”

He looked to the side, hesitant once more, deciding on keeping silent.

You watched him with a clinical eye. Arthur seemed… tired; through and through, clamped up and unwilling to breach — but he wasn’t moody, per se, as if he could snap at any given second, leaning more towards a difficult sort of upsetting, like he longed for some kind of emotional break.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head almost imperceptibly, seeming as if he wanted to talk, before growing silent once more.

With a twist of your lips, you cocked your head to the side in an understanding manner. “We can keep quiet too, if that’s what you want. Sometimes, peace and quiet is nice too, isn’t it?”

At that, he smiled half-heartedly. “Would you look at that,” the man croaked, almost to himself, “not even half of the appointment in ‘n you can read my mind.”

You giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “forgive me for not bringing the tarot cards and the crystal ball for the session, I’m told some patients find that rather upsetting.”

Arthur laughed then, moving his hand to hide the free smile that had appeared on his face after your humorous quip; and you noticed he had a hearty laugh, easy to the face by the lines around his eyes and how his shoulders shook slightly. It almost made you sad to see him hide it.

“Yeah, don’t think that’d be very nice,” he said in a good-hearted voice, “walkin’ in here to see ya in a black robe, with candles ‘n shit.”

Shaking your head, you felt more at ease to see him smiling now. It gave you some kind of satisfaction, as a therapist. “How are you, Arthur?”

He kept smiling, although sadly now. “That’s a tough question now,” he picked up the same pillow he had the last time, setting it on his lap and draping his arms over it in a protective manner. “Would be nice to avoid it, but I feel like yer not havin’ it.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?,” you asked honestly.

“Not particularly.”

At this, you raised your eyebrows at him. Arthur huffed, then.

“Mary has asked me to leave the house,” he confessed, nodding sagely as if reflecting long and deeply on the matter. His eyes cast downwards, towards his clasped hands, “she wants to sign the papers, this week.”

This came as an icy-cold water bucket and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

Some patients would confuse the therapy as some sort of silver lining to save their own sinking marriage, something that you’d have difficulty explaining at times, as you had gone through the same thing not too far back. Your heart clenched painfully.

Before you could open your mouth, he continued. “Not surprised, not really, I knew it’d come to this, but…,” he trailed off, shrugging, “she says I’m too closed off.”

You nodded at him, genuinely concerned. “Are you, though?”

He shook his head, clearly wanting to clamp up once more. “Am I?”

“I’m asking you, Arthur,” you pressed on, feeling somewhat cornered yourself. It resembled a younger version of yourself, scared and helpess. “You don’t have to rely on the opinion of others about yourself.”

He stayed silent instead, settling for watching you with a distant look in his eyes. The man seemed to be at loss, searching for something to say after your upfront commentary. “I can’t really tell,” Arthur said with finality, resting his eyes on a sunflower painting to your right, “don’t wanna know neither.”

“I see,” you said gently, blinking slowly at him with something akin to sympathy. “Where are you staying, Arthur?”

His teal colored eyes widened slightly as if surprised by the question, clearly not expecting you to ask about something so trivial. “My brother’s,” he shrugged, “John’s fixed me the guest bedroom, said I can sleep there.” The silence stretched for a while, his hands fidgeting with the strands of the pillow and you feared that he’d pull the threads apart before the end of the session. “My dads don’t know ‘bout that yet.”

Nodding, you tried to give him your best understanding look. “How’s it at your brother’s home?”

“It’s nice, ‘suppose,” he answered quietly, thankful that you didn’t focus on the last thing he said, “Abigail is a good woman, his wife. Jack’s a good kid too, he pesters me a lot to teach him ‘bout art n’ stuff,” Arthur smiled at that, obviously fond of the boy, “he’s five now.”

“I’m glad you could find comfort at such a time,” you smiled placidly, keeping the professional composure even though you felt terribly sorry for him. “Your brother seems to care a great deal about you.”

Arthur sneered, amused by your speech. “The way you put it sure is weird, but I can’t really say it’s a lie,” he stated lowly, giving you a quizzical look, “if you were to ask me, I’d say John’s too lucky to have Abigail in his life, but that ain’t none of my business.”

“Why do you say that?”

He closed one eye, grimacing slightly, as if the subject was a tad bit too touchy for him before he remembered about being able to talk freely to you. “They been on and off a couple times,” Arthur commented off-handedly, “Abigail is stubborn alright, but John is even worse than an old mule if you were to ask me.”

That made you chuckle half-heartedly, keeping close track of his expression. Arthur seemed torn apart, like he wanted to say something before finally deciding to speak up.

“I guess ‘s just hard to take in, you feel me?,” he frowned at you, somewhat antsy. “John’s fucked up a lot of times, but…”

“But?,” you prompted him on, curious to see where this would lead. Maybe you knew where.

Arthur closed his eyes, clearly upset. “Abigail’s been nothing less than comprehensive with that old ass,” he offered, as if it were a secret, “I guess I’m just touchy Mary ain’t had to worry about less than half of John’s bullshit from my part n’ even then, I’m the one getting divorced.”

He stayed silent for a bit, eyes trained on the tissue paper on the coffee table. You felt sorry for the man, but also somewhat glad at how he seemed to quickly open up to you, jumping from one subject to another with much more ease than the first session, even if you had to coax him a little at the start.

“Getting divorced isn’t the end,” you said softly, smiling when he looked at you with a doubtful face. “You can always meet new people, Arthur.”

He snickered, reluctant at accepting your advice. “Like you know what that’s like, doc.”

“I’m a divorcee, Arthur,” you said in a levelled voice, watching as Arthur’s eyes flickered to your left hand and then back to your face. “Things don’t always work out and that’s not the end of the world, you can still keep going. Life keeps going.”

Arthur shifted his gaze to his hands pressing his lips together for a moment. He stayed quiet as you allowed the silence to stretch for longer. “I’m sorry,” he started, voice slightly flustered, “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“It’s okay,” you said mildly, following the rimming of your glasses with your fingers, “I’m sure you wouldn’t do that on purpose,” a quick smile and you could tell he still felt guilty over having said such a thing. “I promise you I’m not upset over it, I’ve heard far worse,” you chuckled, pushing your hair back with steady hand, “you don’t have to worry.”

He sighed, somewhat dissatisfied, “major fuck up right there.”

“I’d say minor, but whatever floats your boat.”

Arthur smiled slowly at you, surprised at your demeanor. “You’re a weird type, doc.”

Laughing softly, you rubbed your hands together, as if appraising his words. “In a way, we all are weird. Don’t you think so?”

He shrugged lightly, shaking his head in amusement. “Guess you’re right.”

Arthur was easy enough to get to know and even easier to entertain, you’d come to find out. Every minute with him felt like more and more unraveled from the complicated threading that made him whoever he was. You cocked your head to the side, smiling softly.

“Have we given the journal some thought, Arthur?”

With a sigh, he shook his head. “Didn’t have much time to think about it, if I’m bein’ honest,” he confessed, with a dissatisfied press of his lips. “Not sure if I will, neither. Feels like with everything that’s happenin’ it might be a lil’ too dark for my likin’.”

“Voicing your feelings is important, Arthur,” you reminded him, “even if only by doodling. You don’t have to write.”

He grimaced, looking away — this was always a sign that he felt uncomfortable about you being right, but would rather not agree upfront. “I’m still thinking ‘bout it.”

You offered him a gentle smile, crossing your legs and leaning to the side in the armchair. “When do you plan on letting your parents know about you and Mary?”

Arthur blinked a few times, as if trying to push away the tears from welling in his eyes. “After… everything is signed off and dealt with, I suppose.”

“How would you feel about telling just Hosea, then?,” you asked, aware that Arthur found it easier to speak to the silver-haired man rather than Dutch — you had come to learn his name through Hosea himself, after a fleeting call to discuss Arthur’s progress.

Arthur stopped for a second, weighing your words. “I could tell him,” he said painfully slow, “but I’d rather not worry him. ‘s not fair on Hosea…”

“He raised you, Arthur,” you reminded him gently, “how come he wouldn’t want to know what’s happening with you?” He didn’t answer at that, instead clasping his hands together. “You’re here because Hosea asked you to. He cares deeply—“

“I know,” he cut in with a crack in his voice, allowing the tears to well up in his eyes and streak down as he blinked rapidly, “I know, it just— I just—,” he trailed off with a shuddering breath, wiping roughly at his face as he cried quietly. It was the first time you had seen Arthur cry in your sessions and his shoulders shook with the might of it, months’ worth of pent up emotions coming out all at once.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for the man. You had gotten to know him, in the sessions — and he was caring, you had deemed, and warm, easy to get along with and even more so to please; he literally asked for so little in return it was difficult to believe his marriage had been falling apart. With every client, you tried not to get too one sided, but it was inevitable as you never got to hear the other side of the couple — and you were quite frankly thankful you didn’t have to. Things always tended to get messy in marital counselling and you were glad for never striving towards that branch.

Arthur was far too closed up, you had to remind yourself sometimes, he only opened up to you because it was your job to listen to him. He didn’t have enough self-confidence to reach out for the things he wanted, to initiate situations he thought he deserved or call out someone who has wronged him. He rode his life as a side character in his own book. He was far from perfect.

In a sympathetic streak of sympathy, you reached out for the small tissue box and got on your feet to stand beside him as he tried to keep his emotions in check. With a murmur of comfort, you rested a hand on his shoulder, offering the tissues to him — which he took gratefully as you rubbed his back in a gentle motion.

“You deserve nice things too, Arthur,” you said in a quiet voice, ignoring the better judgment at the back of your mind that screamed at you to back off, “you deserve kindness, remember that; you just need to realize it.”

He took the tissues rather hesitantly, sniffling loudly in the quietness of the room as you muttered soothingly at him. The impropriety of the moment fueled by your own personal feelings went by unnoticed or preferably ignored by you both, and you resumed the gentle touching of your hand on his shoulder. You wanted to deny it, but you felt Arthur ease down a little bit as you stood there, your mind racing until he fixed you with a thankful look.

“Thanks,” he croaked with a teary face, smile wavering slightly before he turned away to wipe his face as he commented in a humorous quip, “ah, that’s quite embarrassing, ain’t it?”

You tried to smile at him, managing only a sad quirk of your lips. With a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, you let go of the tissue box opting for leaving it on the arm of the loveseat. Your mind buzzed slightly — you weren’t quite sure if you saw too much of yourself in Arthur, but…

“It’s okay to show feelings, even to your therapist,” you commented off-handedly, trying to remind yourself from your own position.

You ignored the nagging sensation and giddiness of having gotten away with something wrong.

Arthur snickered, huffing out a breath of laughter through his tear stricken face, “yeah, guess that ain’t gonna kill me.”

“How are you feeling right now?,” you asked tentatively, smiling encouragingly when he risked a glance at you.

“Well, you know,” he started with all the propriety of a gentleman, “like shit, if I’m being honest.” The man chuckled slightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the palm of his hand as if in thought. “Doc?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yes, Arthur?”

He seemed to be hesitant to ask, “did you really mean that?,” he asked tentatively, focusing on you finally, with a look that could be translated by a mix of confusion and doubtfulness, “… ‘bout the nice stuff n’ all that shit, that is.”

Letting out a sigh, you rested your face upon your hand. “We’ve talked about this, haven’t we?,” the man nodded in response, fleeting his gaze away, “you know the answer.”

Arthur dallied himself, instead busying his mind with the intent focus on the tissue paper box. “Sometimes… it feels like it’s the wrong answer, ‘s all.”

With a press of your lips, you felt like you had made a breakthrough. This was going into the patient log, definitely. “I see,” you offered in an understanding voice, “have you ever felt like that or is this just redirected towards Mary?”

He seemed to look up at you in surprise, as if caught off guard by the question and sudden reality of it all — and then he frowned, not knowing the answer.

“It’s okay if you don’t know, Arthur,” you said softly, “I’m just here to help you realize things. You don’t have to tell me everything, you know that.”

Arthur nodded slowly, easing down again. “No, ‘s alright,” he added, pinching the bridge of his nose with a slight smirk, “jus’ wanted yer to say it to me, ‘s all.”

Ah, so he was in search for reassurance. Your mouth dried up slightly as you offered him a placid smile.

“You don’t need me to tell you that sort of stuff, Arthur,” you said quietly, highly aware of how clinical your voice sounded, holding him at an arm’s length. You could tell he seemed dissatisfied by your approach, but you kept going. “Therapy is about realizing your own self-worth without the need of third parties on that.”

He grimaced slightly, as if expecting that sort of reaction even though it displeased him. “I know,” he paced around the question like a particularly stubborn cat who insisted on climbing the countertop. “Just… forget it.”

Your heart clenched painfully and you spoke up against your better judgement. “I’ll say it to you again, nevertheless,” you offered in a mellow tone, a gentle smile on your face as he looked up at you. “You deserve the good things that come to your life, Arthur,” you noticed he listened to you avidly, almost leaning forward as if to hang onto your every word, “and once you realize you do deserve them, you should go after it. Learn to reach out for what you want, it’s not forbidden to be selfish every once in a while.”

Arthur closed his eyes, as if meditating on your words, your voice being a beacon of reason for now. “And what if I don’t…,” he muttered tentatively, stopping to clear his throat, “what if I don’t know what I want?”

“We all do,” you spoke quietly, cocking your head to the side in a pensive manner, “most of the time we’re just too afraid to admit that to ourselves.”

“I want to divorce Mary,” he stated in a matter of fact voice, as if compelled by the serenity in yours. Then he flinched, tearing up once again.

You nodded your understanding, allowing him a moment to catch his breath.

“I’m not happy,” he continued, frowning at the way his voice wavered again, “maybe it has worked before,” Arthur commented, casting his eyes to the fluffy rug, “but it hasn’t, at least for some time now.”

The silence stretched and you allowed yourself to watch Arthur for the time being. It felt like he still wanted to say something more. He shifted in his seat, dabbing at his eyes to collect the unshed tears there, otherwise still as a rock.

“It feels to me,” you started tentatively, to see if he’d speak up, “that you were too afraid to admit that to yourself in fear of hurting her feelings.”

Arthur huffed out a breath, clearly amused. “Thought you’d said you had left the crystal ball at home.”

You smiled at his little remark. “Sometimes I do a reading before a session,” you shrugged with nonchalance, “do a spread of tarot, prepare a potion or two.”

“With newt eye and thyme?”

“You know my deal,” you turned your hands up in defeat and Arthur chuckled warmly. “How does it feel to voice that one out, Arthur?”

“Different,” he limited himself to say, smile still playing on his lips. “Never thought much of it that way.”

“Different in a good or bad way?,” you inquired sincerely and Arthur’s eyes shifted towards you.

“Good,” he admitted promptly, with a tone of vulnerability in his voice you couldn’t remember having heard, “definitely good.”

You rinsed the soap from your face slowly, the warm water a comforting presence after a long day.

Finally, you had allowed yourself to reflect on what had happened today — your hand on your patient’s back. Not that it was forbidden to touch, but most of the time it could lead to a misunderstanding of roles and feelings in therapy — a place where patients felt safe coupled with a good listener who was, perhaps, too gentle to them, usually ended up badly. You weren’t a rookie in this, you knew the Code by heart. Maybe it’d be for the best to pass him along to another therapist?

Staring at your own reflection as the mirror fogged with the running water, you frowned slightly. There had been some serious advances, nevertheless. Arthur was opening up, he trusted you, and you felt like referring him to a colleague would only further his feelings of inadequacy.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you tried to plan your next decision. Arthur’s next session were to happen in about 10 days from now, you reasoned; and even then, you found yourself worrying about him. When would he be signing the papers to settle the divorce with his ex-wife? You closed off the tap water.

You hoped he’d get a good deal.

Frowning, you sighed loudly. This wasn’t none of your fucking business. As if to get your mind off of it, you tied your hair up and moved towards the kitchen for a glass of wine. You needed to relax.

Arthur was your patient — nothing more.

“Hey,” you heard Arthur’s voice call from behind in a hesitant voice above the chit-chat and white noise.

You turned around, somewhat taken aback at the prospect of meeting a patient out of the listening room and, surely enough, Arthur Morgan stood there with a half-smile. His beard was maybe an inch too long, although the eyebags under his eyes seemed to be disappearing and his clothes were way less unruly than a few days ago.

He also smelled nice.

“Oh,” you gasped, recovering with a slightly sheepish smile, positively out of your element, “hey, Arthur. How are we doing?”

Arthur smiled back, holding the supermarket basket a little higher against his hip. “Didn’t expect to find yer ‘round here.”

“Well,” you tried to say casually, ignoring the burning questions at the back of your mind about his life, not really aware where to draw the line between the relation of patient-client and acquaintances — because you were not friends. “Believe it or not, we as therapists have to eat like everyone else.”

He snickered, amused by your teasing answer. “That came out as a surprise, thought you lot lived off of our eternal despair as human beings.”

“Oh, no,” you with a half-mocking surprised lilt in your voice and a smirk, “you have found out about my secret!”

“Nah,” Arthur shifted his weight from one foot to another, shaking his head slightly, “your secrets are safe with me, ma’am.”

You felt the urge to throw your shopping cart at him and run away, but resisted bravely. He regarded you in a warm manner, like one would to a close friend, before speaking up again.

“Signed the papers yesterday,” he commented off handedly, showing you his left hand, where a silver band of a ring rested up until your last session; now the only evidence of it being the slightly pale skin. “Could’ve gone worse.”

With a nod, you resisted the urge to ask how he felt about it — you weren’t in a listening room. You weren’t even supposed to be talking to him about life matters, to be honest.

“Not gonna ask me anythin’?,” Arthur teased and you felt the nervous lilt in his voice, the slight strain to it.

“I…,” you started, shaking your head slightly as you cocked your head to the side, “didn’t mean to intrude, is all.”

Arthur seemed confused at that. “I tell yer everythin’ ‘bout my life,” he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but you could see the tension is his body language, “why’d I shy away from it now?”

“It’s not recommended for patients and therapists to maintain a relation outside of the listening room,” you said tentatively, trying not to sound too closed off, “I’m just trying to preserve your… privacy.”

He twisted his lips slightly, trying not to seem too upset at your demeanor. “I see,” he said quietly, shifting his gaze from you to his own basket, nearly empty. He tried not to seem too hurt about it. “Didn’t mean to put yer in a tough position, doc.”

“It’s—,” you started, reaching out to touch his arm in reflex, before recoiling, “it’s okay Arthur.”

The man refused to look you fully in the eye, uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he agreed quickly, looking around, “’s alright. Should be getting goin’ now, doc. See yer next week, yeah?”

With a tightening sensation in your throat, you watched as Arthur shuffled away from you and the cereal aisle. Closing your eyes, you pressed your cool hand to your forehead in a feeling not too far from despair.

Blinking slowly, you stared at the journal. It was leatherbound, with a thin leather strand to tie it up and keep the pages from being pried open when put into a bag. As if by reflex, you reached out and touched the coarse pages, thick enough to hold watercolor paintings without the color seeping to the next pages.

So much for a trip to the paper store to buy new markers.

You gnawed on your lower lip, taking the journal in your hands and running a hand over the smooth polished leather cover. Your mind immediately wandered to Arthur, obviously — the journal was simply beautiful, in a rustic sort of way, with a lovely simplicity and level of thoughtfulness that pleased you. On the inside, there were small pouches, sewed into it, for pencils and even a bigger one for what you guessed was to be placed a small case of watercolors.

“It came in just last week,” the cashier boy said lightly, with a well-practiced smile, “do you want me to add in to your list? It’s really good for scrapbooking or journaling.”

With a sudden wave of bravery, you smiled at him, passing the journal over. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

Arthur sat across from you in the listening room, with the airs of someone who’d rather avoid talking for the time being. He seemed cleaner, his beard had been trimmed and his face had adopted a healthy shade of pink that was common to people with a good disposition. He also dressed a little more neatly, with a light blue button up shirt and jeans.

You clasped your hands together, above your knee as if planning what you were about to say.

“I know you’re upset with me,” you started, annoyed at how soft your voice had sounded, “and I apologize for it.”

The man sighed and you caught the slight tremor at the corner of his lips. He seemed displeased, upset at nothing in particular, and a long pause issued before he spoke up again. “Ain’t nothing to it, doc.”

Cocking your head to the side, you gave him silence until he put his thoughts back in order. Arthur seemed to appreciate that, finally looking up at you, somewhat hesitantly.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” you repeated, doing your best to convey the feeling into words, “therapists aren’t supposed to maintain a relation of friendship with their patients outside of the listening room. That’s why I didn’t prod you with questions.”

He looked away, examining the sunflower painting beside your armchair. “I was just trying to be friendly.”

“I know,” you sighed, crossing your legs, “but it’s considered unethical.”

“From my side or your side?,” Arthur asked suddenly, turning his teal colored gaze to you.

“Mine,” you confessed with a sad smile, “we can’t be friends while I’m treating you. And even then, when I’m no longer seeing you, it’d be considered morally ambiguous. You’re not in the wrong here, don’t worry.”

The silence stretched for longer with Arthur picking at his nails to avoid talking about it. “’s alright,” he said finally. “Just needed to tell someone about it at the time, saw you there and thought that… well.”

You couldn’t help but feel guilty as you got up on your feet and moved to the tiny desk at the corner of the room. “I know this, Arthur,” you said in a gentle voice, “and I know you’d never do this on your own,” you pulled the leatherbound journal from the drawer, “that’s why I did you the favor.”

Arthur’s eyes widened a bit at the sight of it, shifting to look at you with something not too far from bafflement. “That for me?,” his voice rose an octave with his eyebrows, not really reaching to take it from your hands when you offered. “That… I’m sorry, yer didn’t have to—“

“It’s okay,” you waved your hand in dismissal, setting the journal on the arm of the loveseat, “consider this a peace offer, will you?”

He smirked, shaking his head slightly, looking at you as if to ask for permission to touch the gift, “you sure?,” he squeezed his eyes a little, lightening up a little, “that sounds highly unethical, doc.” Stopping on your tracks, you turned to watch him like a deer caught in the headlights until he broke into a warm chuckle, smooth and hearty. “Ah, just teasin’ yer, no need to look at me like that.”

Cocking your head to the side, you gingerly sat back down on the armchair. “It’s a good way to put your thoughts in order,” you gestured to the journal that Arthur now inspected, slightly surprised at the thickness of its pages, “at least until next session and keeping in mind that you won’t be in therapy forever, it’s a great alternative.”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably at the mention of it. “I suppose it is,” he closed the book, tying it up with the leather strand, “you still shouldn’t have bothered, but…,” he smiled now, setting it beside him with a warm smile your way, “I’m glad you did, doc.”

You smiled back, trying to keep the tenderness out of your gaze as you did so. “Me too, if I’m being honest,” you crossed your legs again, pushing your hair back. “Do you want to tell me how it went now? Signing the papers?”

He shrugged, still somewhat giddy. “Could’ve been worse, I guess. She left me the car n’ the apartment, but I think I’ll sell it, move to a house,” he shrugged. “Think she can afford to do that, what with all the money her daddy has.” Arthur rubbed his chin, trailing off, “never liked me much, her father. But at least it’s settled now.”

“How are you feeling about that, then? About going separate ways?”

“I still miss her,” he said quietly, not avoiding your gaze like he would before, when you inquired about his feelings, “now and then. But sometimes… it feels like I miss what we had, before.” The man shifted, hand slipping to his side to make sure he wouldn’t sit over the journal, “Guess I just didn’t wanna be alone.”

“There’s nothing wrong about being alone,” you said gently, blinking slowly as your chin came to rest on your hand, “some people prefer it that way, even.”

Arthur watched you as if he knew what you were talking about before deciding to indulge into his curiosity. “Are you of the kind, doc?”

“My company is delightful,” you limited yourself to say with a huff of laughter, to which Arthur replied with a smirk.

“Can’t argue with that,” he said in a tone of voice that made something flutter in your chest and left your head fuzzy. Did Arthur just flirt with you?

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagines #red dead redemption #red dead redemption imagines #patient!arthur x therapist!reader #fanfic #soft #they're so fucking sweet #*sobs*

[skzrequests]

Orange Juice - Seo Changbin

anonymous said : “My pace 24 w changbin? uwu im a sucker for the idea of tattoist bin lmao”

24 ➝ “Is that a tattoo ?”

➵ Pairings : changbin x reader

➵ Warnings : explicit language ; mentions of blood

➵ Genre : tattoo artist!au ; fluff

➵ Word count : 4.3k

➵ Note : me too, anon, me too :’) thank you for requesting this, I’m a sucker for tattooist bin too and for real, I think you just cured my writer’s block, so I can’t thank you enough ! I hope the fic is okay, don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :)

You turned on your heels, looking around for the soy sauce brand you usually bought. Finally finding it, the familiar red and green colours of the label catching your eye, you extended your arm to grab it before you carefully placed it in your cart. Pushing it out of the alley and into the next, you thought about what you had written down on your list of groceries that—of course—you had forgotten on top of the kitchen counter before going out. 

What was missing ? You had eggs, milk, cookies, your favourite yogurt, your weekly stock of noodles, pretty much everything you needed. 

Orange juice ! Of course, how could you forget ? No orange juice in the morning, no functional you. 

Hitting your forehead with your palm at your own forgetfulness, you proceeded to turn around in the middle of the alley to go back to the juice section. 

Stopping in front of the numerous orange juice bottles and packs that the store offered, your eyes once more scanned the section for the one you always took. 

“Here” someone spoke next to you, but what you saw first was a hand extended to you, holding the bottle you had been looking for, with its childlike doodles of an orange in every colour of the rainbow. 

Your eyes widened slightly, brows arching in surprise and thankfulness at the action of—judging by the voice—the man who had somehow found what you’d been looking for. 

You looked up, surprised and wondering who it could be, although you did not expect it to be someone you knew. 

You were wrong. 

You almost didn’t recognise him. Not that his features had changed, he still had that same sharp jaw but soft curves on his face, but he gave off a totally different aura, to the point you weren’t even sure it was him anyway, no matter how much his face and soft smile left no place for doubt. 

He was wearing a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt that he’d paired with black distressed jeans and monochrome black Converse. Something you’d never imagined seeing him wearing. But some things never change, and the black ringed cap pushed so far down that it almost completely covered his eyes—it made you wonder how he could see anything—convinced you of the man’s identity. 

“Changbin ?!” you almost screamed in disbelief in the middle of the juice section, earning a few glares from the moms around, trying to shop peacefully, and some curious stares from their kids. You didn’t even notice though. 

He broke into a smile, cocking his head in the direction of his still extended arm holding the bottle of juice. 

“Your favourite, right ?” he asked and smirked when your mouth fell slightly open. 

Anticipating your question, he didn’t give you the time to open your mouth again as he explained : “You drank it all the time, back in high school” he said and you felt heat slowly rise to your cheeks, “Can’t remember a day when you didn’t have a bottle in your backpack” he laughed lightly. 

You didn’t know what to focus on : how he remembered your favourite brand of orange juice from high school, how much he had changed, how insanely good he looked ? It was way too much at once for your brain to process. 

“I- uh” you stuttered, not knowing what to say or where to begin. If your internal alarms could stop blaring in your head, it would be nice. “What are you doing here ?” you finally managed to get out but immediately mentally facepalmed yourself. He’s chasing a tiger, obviously. Come on, this is the grocery store, what could he possibly be doing here, y/n ? you scolded yourself.

He chuckled again, the sound ringing in your ears and bringing you back to reality. 

“Well, I guess I, too, need to eat sometimes” he joked and you forced a small laugh out of your throat. Nice job, y/n. 

You then just stood there and stared at him, mind completely blank, as if your internal program had stopped working and the computer needed a reboot. 

“So ?” Changbin inquired, making you widen your eyes at him again, brows arching, not understanding. “Are you gonna take it or not ?” He finished his sentence as he extended his arm even further. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry” was all you could manage to get out as you finally took the orange juice from him, your fingers brushing over his hand in the process. 

“It’s okay,” he laughed again, “I didn’t think you’d be that shocked to see me, though” he smirked once more. 

You rolled your eyes as you put the bottle down in your cart, next to the soy sauce. 

“It’s been years, Changbin, did you expect me to just go and have our super special handshake like that ?” you asked sarcastically. 

“We had a handshake ?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

You looked at him with an annoyed expression. “No, we didn’t, idiot” you said and he just let out a small “phew”, resting his now free hand on his chest as if he had been worried about it. You and him were barely friends in high school, it was more like you had common friends so you were aware of each other’s existence. You’d only talked to him for school projects, seeing he was a rather quiet kid, unlike you.

“Oh thank god, I thought I'd forgotten it” he said. Oh, so he really was worried about it then. 

You shook your head in disbelief. 

“Anyway,” he said as he clasped his hands together, signalling a subject change, “how’s life going ?” he asked and you scoffed. 

“I should be asking you that,” you said, “it was you who had no idea what you wanted to do”. 

He shrugged. “I guess I found it now” he smiled. “But what about you ?” he asked again.

“Me ? I’m good, I guess,” you started, your face felt hotter than before and you were starting to wonder if it were going to explode at some point if it kept going, so you took off your scarf and turned around to put it in your cart with your groceries while you spoke : “I mean nothing really exciting but I have a job at least” you said, back facing him.

“Hold on,” Changbin stopped you and you whipped around, worried by the tone of his voice, “is that a tattoo ?” he asked as he took a step closer, pointing his finger to the back of your neck where the black curves of music notes peeked out of your shirt. 

“Oh that ?” you asked back as he came closer and you turned again to let him see it, tugging your shirt down a little, “yeah it’s a tattoo, why ?” You asked again. 

He looked at it for a few seconds without speaking before he stepped back, allowing you to face him again. 

“I’m a tattoo artist now” he explained and your eyes grew bigger than they ever had in your life. 

“No fucking way ?” You shouted, “That’s freaking awesome !” you exclaimed again and he smiled, fake dusting off his jacket as you laughed and pushed him lightly. 

He laughed and spoke up again : “No, but for real, are you that surprised ?”.

You stopped and looked him in the eye. 

“Not really. You were always really good at drawing, but I didn’t think you’d have the guts to do it, with the whole marking other people’s skin permanently, you know ?” you told him, “thought the responsibility might have been too much, but I guess I was wrong” you smiled. 

You came to realisation that his whole body was covered by his clothes, but surely there was more to see under it all. 

“Show me !” You exclaimed as your hands flew to his jacket and you tried to take it off him, “Show me the art !” 

He brought his arms closer to his torso, trying to protect himself from your hands that were actually tickling him. 

“Y/n !” he called between giggles, “If you want to see me without my clothes that much, you could wait until we’re somewhere a bit more private” he said with yet another smirk. 

You instantly retracted your hands, only extending the right one again to hit his shoulder, earning a wince from him. 

“Seriously,” he said, “let’s go pay for all that and get out of here” he told you, walking behind you to push your cart towards the check out. 

“Oh wow, didn’t it hurt like a bitch ?” you asked as he showed you the intricate designs inked on his elbows, and you grimaced at the thought of the pain. 

He grimaced too, as if remembering it perfectly, “Yup, thought I'd never use my arms again and that my bones had gotten pierced by the needle, but here I am” he answered as he sat back down, facing you again. 

You nodded while still grimacing, imagining if you did it yourself. Elbows were one of the spots you never wanted to get tattooed for that very reason. 

“Wow, I can’t believe you changed that much in just a few years” you confessed honestly, not looking him in the eye as you shook your head down. 

“Hey, you changed a lot too,” he shot back, “and I never thought you’d ever get a tattoo but here you are” he said, gesturing his hand over at you. 

“I have more than one, you know ?” you said, smiling lightly. 

His eyes widened. “What ? More tha- and you didn’t tell me ?” he exclaimed and you laughed out loud, shushing him in the middle of the café—although you were just as noisy as him. 

“Yeah, I have one on my thigh and one on my ribs” you said, smiling proudly. 

“And you were saying elbows must have hurt when you got a tattoo on your ribs” he shook his head. 

“Right” you said, “I must have been crazy to do it”. 

“I’d love to see it” he smirked and you chuckled. 

“Maybe I'll show you one day, who knows ?” you grinned. 

“Oh, I’m sure I'll see it soon” he said and grinned back at you cockily as you blushed furiously and tried not to let it show, biting your inner cheek. 

“A-Anyway,” you said, trying to seem unfazed, “I’d love to get a new one. What do you say ?” you asked, a little expectant. You had seen some of the things he had tattooed on himself, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love his style. It was just... so much like him. It was beautiful, mesmerising even, how he turned every simple thing into a piece of art. 

Changbin’s eyes lit up and he cracked another smile at you. 

“You’d want a tattoo from me ?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised, but mostly flattered, coming from you.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, duh ? It’s amazing, and besides, you’re an old friend, so that’d mean something else too, right ?” you told him. 

“What you got in mind ?” he asked. 

You shrugged. “Surprise me”.

After that unexpected encounter with him in the supermarket, and after you’d gone to a café and talked for hours, you were now headed to the tattoo parlour Changbin worked at, a week and a half later, ready to get that new tattoo you wanted so much. 

At this point, you were pretty much convinced of two things : one, this tattoo would definitely be your favourite out of all the ones you’d be getting ; and two, you were undeniably crushing on Changbin. 

You felt annoyed about it, because you felt like a living cliché walking around, falling for a guy you’d never talked to that much in high school after miraculously meeting him years later, after puberty had finally done its job (right). But you brushed it off, maybe it wasn’t the right time for you to get into a relationship yet, and nothing told you he was interested in you anyway. You’d probably been staying awake at night for the past days for nothing.

Still, you wanted that tattoo, and you liked Changbin’s company, so at least, you wanted to become friends with him. Who knew ? Maybe one day, he’d even offer you a free tattoo. 

Picking up your pace a little to escape the cold, you walked up to the front door of the shop and pushed it open, making your way inside. You sighed in relief when you felt the warmth on your cheeks, your whole body unfreezing little by little. 

You turned to the counter and greeted the girl behind it warmly and she returned a smile. 

“You’re here for Changbin, right ?” she asked and you blinked a few times, taken aback by the bluntness. “You’re y/n, right ?” she pushed further. You couldn’t do anything but nod. She smiled at you again, although it looked like a bit of a smirk, as she told you to follow her and walked to the back of the shop. 

She stopped in front of a closed curtain and pushed it to the side, peeking her head inside. 

“Y/n is here,” she said, “you ready ?” she asked him. There was no audible answer, but he must have said he was because she stepped back and pointed behind her with her thumb, indicating you to go in. 

You thanked her and pushed the curtain again, curiously eyeing the inside of the room before stepping in. 

Changbin was sitting in his work chair, smiling softly when he saw you enter. You smiled back, feeling your heartbeat pick up a little. 

“Hey” you greeted him, somehow your voice managed to crack, no matter how short that was, and you hated yourself for it. 

Changbin’s smile widened, “Hey” he said back. “Stressed ?” he asked and you shook your head in response. 

“No, it’s not like it’s my first time anyway” you joked and he bit his lip, looking down and away from your eyes. 

“Right” he commented, followed by a discreet chuckle.

You pursed your lips. Way to go, y/n. When would you stop making things uncomfortable ? Probably the day you died, because that was the only moment you’d finally shut up. 

Brushing it off, you cleared your throat, making Changbin look up at you again from his sitting position. 

“So, uh, what you got ?” you asked, feeling the heat from both the embarrassment and the fact Changbin looked like a god right in front of you in that very moment. It was hard to keep your gaze on him, and yet at the same time you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of his figure. 

“Uh ? Oh, yeah right” he came back to his senses and spun his chair around to his desk, pushing a pile of papers as he looked for his design. 

You waited as patiently as you could, feeling your guts twist a little in anticipation while he kept making a mess before you. 

“Ha !” he exclaimed as he picked a piece of paper and held it up, turning around with a proud smile on his face as he showed it to you. 

Taking the paper, your eyes widened at the pleasant surprise you found drawn on it. 

Pursing your lips again to try and contain your laugh, it was to no help as you burst out laughing, bending in half as you held your sides. 

Changbin watched you, smirking proudly. He chuckled when he saw you wipe the corners of your eyes from how hard you’d been laughing.

“Changbin, oh my gosh...” you trailed as you tried to steady your breathing, holding the paper in front of you so you could take a good look at it once more. 

“What ? You didn’t specify anything about the size.” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Changbin, that’s not it,” you said, not taking your eyes off of the drawing before your eyes. 

“You don’t like it ?” he asked you, panic suddenly taking over him evident in his voice as he sat straight up. 

That’s when you finally ripped your eyes off the sheet, eyes wide as you thought it was obvious that was not it. 

“Are you kidding me ?” you said, not easing Changbin’s worries with the tone of your voice as he tensed up a bit more. “Changbin, I love it.” you stated and watched him slump back in his seat with a long sigh of relief. 

“My heart is beating normally again” he said, resting his right hand on his chest over his heart. 

“This is genius,” you continued, looking back at his drawing again. The carton of orange juice seemed to be looking back at you on the paper, although it had no eyes. There was even a small orange doodle on it, just like on the one you always bought. You chuckled lightly and Changbin smiled as he watched you. “I just... I never expected this but it’s perfect.” you spoke your mind and looked at him. He was a genius. That was the best thing he could have suggested. It was so much like him, so much like you, and it would mean so much more than anything else would have. 

You handed him the sheet back and he set in on his desk, smile never fading as he spun around to put it down. 

“Where do you want it ?” he asked as he spun around again to face you. 

That, you had not thought of, since you didn’t know what to expect. You shrugged. “Where do you want to tattoo it ?” you asked back with a sly smile.

He pursed his lips, still looking you in the eye, as he thought. 

“It’ll be your arm, then” he said and you smiled, nodding. “Get yourself ready” he motioned for you to take off your coat, “I’ll go get the stencil printed.” he instructed and left the room, leaving you alone as you removed your winter coat and scarf before hanging them. You sat down, looking around at the drawings adorning the walls of the room. You could see which ones were Changbin’s and which ones weren’t. He just had that thing, and it made everything he drew unique and easily recognisable. 

You rolled up your sleeve over your right arm, looking one last time at your skin before it got inked. 

Changbin stepped back in, startling you a little as you hadn’t heard him come back. He smiled at you again and showed you two stencils, two different sizes. Same drawing, though. 

“Which one ?” he asked as he held up both stencils next to each other. 

You thought for a second. “Maybe the smaller one ? It has to fit on my arm, after all” you said and he licked his lips, letting his hands fall down at his sides. 

“Let’s go then” he said.

He told you to stand up and you obliged. Changbin took his sweet time to put on some gloves and pour some liquid on a compress.

He rolled his chair over to you and rubbed your shoulder and down your arm with it. The cold contact made you shiver a bit, although you knew it was mixed with anticipation. You’d never wanted a tattoo so bad. 

“Ok, time for the stencil. You stay relaxed and remember to breathe or it’ll look weird” he instructed and you smiled.

“Yes sir, I know how tattoos work” you told him as your eyes shifted to your right to meet his annoyed ones. 

“Let me do my job, will you ?” he said as he prepared the design. You smiled to yourself. 

He applied the sticky drawing right under your shoulder, rubbing it lightly at the borders. He rolled back a little to look at it and gave you a thumbs up, satisfied. 

You looked at the blue drawing on your arm. This was gonna look so good. 

Changbin instructed you to sit down in his work chair as he turned to prepare the ink and needle. He rubbed your arm with another compress before taking his work tool in his hand and rolling back to your side, the noise the machine made making you bite your lip.

“Ready ?” he looked at you with raised eyebrows as he rolled your sleeve back up. 

“I’ve been waiting for this my whole life” you cracked a big smile.

Changbin cocked his head a little as he scoffed. “Let’s do this” he said.

He brought the needle down. 

You winced a little, reminding yourself to keep breathing and stay relaxed as Changbin ran the needle on (more like in) your arm repeatedly. 

It was almost over, and you knew it, but that was exactly why it hurt even more now. Your skin was on fire after getting pierced through for so long, and you’d been bleeding quite a lot. More than you and Changbin had expected. It was a surprise, because it was only the arm and it was just a small tattoo. Y/n, you weak bitch. 

There were only a few minutes left to endure. It hadn’t taken long, since it was small, and you were glad because somehow, it hurt a lot more than you had expected. Not as bad as the ribs, but worse than you’d thought. 

Changbin straightened up next to you, turning around to grab some paper towels and this unidentified refreshing liquid he poured on your arm before he rubbed it. You felt the pain ease, soothing you instantly. 

He looked at you, eyes shining and smiling brightly : “All done !” he announced, beaming with pride. 

You sighed in relief as you got up while he cleaned his tools next to you. 

“There’s a mirror right there” he pointed at the back of the room, opposite his desk. 

Seeing a small bit of tattoo flashing on your arm in your reflection as you moved closer to it, you couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face, only growing bigger when you turned to see it completely. 

It looked amazing. It was so simple, and yet so elaborate. You had no words for it. No words would do it justice, and no words could express how you felt at that very moment. 

You turned back when Changbin called you to wrap your arm up. As he placed the transparent food wrap around your arm, he asked : “So, anything to say ?”

You looked up at him, blushing at the proximity. Gosh, he really was insanely handsome. 

“I don’t know what to say, to be honest. I can’t find anything to say.” you told him truthfully. “Thank you, Changbin”.

He gave you a lopsided smile as he patted your arm after finishing. 

“It’s my pleasure” he said. 

You stayed there for a second, looking at him with a soft smile. 

“How much do I owe you ?” you asked, walking to your coat to take your wallet out. 

Changbin grabbed your forearm, careful not to touch you on your new tattoo. You turned around, quaking an eyebrow at him questioningly.

“You don’t owe me anything, let’s say it’s a high school reunion present” he said and flashed you an eye smile that melted your heart. 

“No way, I can’t let you do that ! It’s too much” you shook your head, turning fully as he let go of your arm. 

“It’s fine, really” he said as he got up to grab your coat and scarf before handing them to you and pushing you out, hand on the small of your back. 

You made your way back to the front desk, carefully sliding your right arm into your coat’s sleeve as you put your clothes back on before stepping out, Changbin right behind you. 

Flipping your scarf over your shoulder, you sighed. 

“Okay, then I'll get going” you said. “Thank you again, and uh, I'll see you soon I guess ?” you told Changbin, the last part coming out as more of a question as you felt unsure about it. 

He simply nodded and let out a small “Sure” and you awkwardly nodded back before you turned on your heels and stepped out, letting the cold wind hit your face with its blow. 

You could always come back to get another tattoo from him anyway. Maybe you’d meet again at the grocery store. There was a chance you’d run into each other on the streets. Or maybe your high school would finally organise an alumni reunion and you’d get to see him again. Was it going to end just like this ? You couldn’t stand the thought of it. 

You’d been walking a few metres only when you got interrupted in your train of thoughts by a voice calling your name. You turned back, curious. 

Changbin jogged up to your level, wearing only a t-shirt, stopping right in front of you. 

“Wait I-I uh,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I just realised uh, I don- I don’t have your number, so if you have any problems or-”

“Changbin,” you cut him off as he started fiddling with his fingers, “just kiss me already” you said bluntly. 

He gaped at you and stuttered something you couldn’t quite make out, but he stepped closer to you and took your face in his hands nonetheless, crashing his lips on yours. 

In the end, you were the one to be surprised. 

He pulled away and looked in your eyes. He seemed shocked at what he’d just done, but showed no regret in doing it. Where had his confident flirty self gone, though ?

His eyes were as wide as yours, not believing what had just happened himself. Still, he asked you : “Wanna do that again ?”

You nodded quickly, “S-Sure, but let’s get back inside before you freeze to death” you told him and he cracked a smile before laughing lightly. 

“I’ll go get my coat” he said as he turned around, “wanna go grab some orange juice at the grocery store ?” he shot at you.

You smiled. There it was. 

———

~admin zia (@jinniesmeow)

#stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin #skz #skz writing #bang chan #kim woojin #lee minho #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #fluff #changbin fanfic #fanfic #jinniesmeow

[once-upon-a-pirate-ship]

Bets & Walls

A gift for an old friend on her birthday. @frankierosizedletters

Will bets Killian $100 that he can't get Emma to go on a date with him. He really needs the money, and he can only hope that she's the charitable type.

(spoiler: she is)

Follow my main Tumblr @elisethewritingbeast 

Also on AO3 here

Emma Swan was just a regular girl. Sure, she was a cheerleader, one of the “cool kids” perhaps, but she liked to think that she was normal. Maybe this word was so important to her because she’d only joined the Nolan family a few years ago, just before she started high school. Now, she had the best brother a girl could ask for, a best friend who always made her laugh, and basically a sister because she knew that one day her brother would marry that girl.

But Emma still found ways that her past slipped in through the cracks in her walls, digging a hole in her mind that made her think things she wished she could forget. She still felt lost sometimes, sitting at a table in the cafeteria with David, Mary Margaret, and Ruby, trying to listen to their mindless chatter about this and that but not really being able to, her brain pulling her back to her isolated ways from the millions of foster homes she fell in and out of in her time before living with Ruth and David.

She felt like she needed to give herself a mental slap, or maybe a real one. She was being ridiculous, really. She should be worried about the next football game her brother would play in, and what cheers she, Ruby, and M’s needed to remember. She didn’t need to be thinking of that time. The Dark Ages, as she so sweetly dubbed it. The name was fitting, because there truly was no light in her life until she met David and Ruth.

She left the cafeteria feeling a bit guilty, taking her time wandering to her locker and enjoying the mind-numbing buzz of the crowded hallways around her.

At her locker, she found what she needed for trigonometry and moved her hand to close the door, when a figure appeared beside her. That cute boy from her AP History class, Killian , she remembered.

He always had a book with him, usually a classic, and would often spend class doodling instead of taking notes. He never needed to, and despite his never paying attention, he knew the material better than anyone, except for maybe herself. He was quiet, kept to himself, and had that look in his eyes that she knew all too well.

“Hi,” he said shyly.

“Hi,” she wondered why he was talking to her; he never had before. It was a shame, really.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” he mumbled, obviously nervous. The way his hand moved to scratch behind his ear made her smile. She didn’t respond, just raised an eyebrow, so he went on. “Well, Will bet me one hundred dollars that I couldn’t get you to go out with me. I don’t think I could, but I really could use one hundred dollars, and I was hoping that you might be the charitable type…” he trailed off, so unsure of himself that she had to suppress another smile.

“Sure, but you’re buying,” she told him, and couldn’t help but laugh under her breath at the shocked look on his face. She turned to her locker, scribbling her number on a sticky note and passing it to him. “Here,” was all she said before she shut her locker and left to go to trig. She didn’t look back to see the look on his face, but she knew it would’ve made her giggle like a school girl. But wasn’t that exactly who she was?

They solidified their plans over the rest of the week, and come Saturday night, Killian Jones was picking her up at Ruth’s house. She inquired about just not going out but saying they did, but apparently Will wanted photographic proof.

David lounged on her bed while she finished her eyeliner, grumbling as he usually did. “Why are you going out with Jones again?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s nice, David. Get over it. Besides, it’s just one date,”

“Fine, but I can give him the big brother speech if you want,”

“No!” She nearly jumped. “No, absolutely not. Please don’t do that,” her brother was very intimidating when given the opportunity.

There was a knock on her door at seven o’clock on the dot, and she noted that he was definitely the punctual type. She swung open the door, and she honestly wanted to gasp at how honestly attractive he looked, but the way his eyes slid up her body and how he swallowed so nervously...it made her heart rate speed up ridiculously.

He held the car door open for her. “What a gentleman,” she commented.

Killian’s reply was quick. “I’m always a gentleman, love.” It made her weak in the knees.

He took her to the only fancy restaurant in town, a little Italian place, and they even had reservations. No one had ever made reservations for her. He even pushed in her chair, and she couldn’t believe how much she felt like a real princess. She brushed the skirt of her pale pink dress anxiously as he sat down, feeling a little out of place.

She’d had boyfriends before. Well, boyfriend, singular. Neal. It was a whirlwind romance that turned into no more than a summer fling. He beat at her walls with a baseball bat, but it hurt her when he swung. David had hated him from the start, and that really should’ve been enough to make her wary.

But Neal, Neal never treated her like this. He never sat across from her at the fanciest restaurant he could find, smiling hesitantly at her. He didn’t hold her door, or make reservations, or push in her chair. Neal was no gentleman.

“So, do you make bets with Will Scarlet often?” She asked conversationally.

He laughed, and she could see the tension leave his shoulders. “Not usually, no. But he was feeling particularly bored the other day, and well, I could use the money.”

“Makes sense,” she commented, and then their conversation was halted until they could order their food.

Once their waiter was gone, she relaxed slightly. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, Jones. Had a lot of practice on that front?”

His eyebrow cocked and he smirked. “Are you asking me about past romances, Swan?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, you do plan a good night out,”

He shifted in his seat, swallowing. “To be honest, Swan, I was worried you might think it wasn’t enough. You deserve to be properly wined and dined, if you’ll excuse the cliché.”  

She couldn’t meet his eyes, and she fiddled with the chain around her neck. “I’m not so sure about that,” she muttered.

If she’d been looking, she would’ve seen the way his eyes darkened slightly at his words. “That’s ridiculous, Swan,” he almost scoffed.

She shook her head, finally meeting his gaze. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself, Killian?” She changed the topic.

He chuckled. “What do you want to know?”

“I dunno,” she picked the first thing that came to mind. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“Well, it’s sort of embarrassing, really,”

“Why do you say that?” She found him fascinating, and she couldn’t help her outburst of curiosity.

He waited a moment, as if he were trying to figure out what to say. “It was my mum’s favorite movie, and we watched it all the time together before…” he cleared his throat, “when I was younger.” She knew not to push, and kept silent until he answered her question. “The Princess Bride.”

Her eyes widened, and she thought that if she were standing, she would need to sit down. “No way,”

“What?”

“That’s my favorite movie, too.” And then his eyes matched hers in size and they sat there for a few moments in shocked silence.

“What are the chances?” He wondered aloud.

“That’s crazy, really,” she shook her head in disbelief.

"Almost...inconceivable." They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

The rest of dinner passed with lively conversation, filled with laughter and (just maybe) a little flirting. She was absolutely stunned by how much she liked Killian.

After they left the restaurant, he offered an alternative to taking her home right away. “Fancy a walk down at the docks?”

“Sure,” she said, glad she had an excuse to extend their perfect evening.

The air was warm and the water was calm, and they walked with their shoulders just barely touching down to the edge of the dock, where Emma took a seat and let her legs dangle over the water. He joined her, sitting a bit farther than she had hoped he would.

“You never did answer my question earlier,” she told him, staring out at the soft waves in the distance.

“Hm?”

“My question. About girls,” she clarified.

“Oh,” he paused, eyebrows furrowing. “No, no girls. It has never really...come up before.”

“Really?” She asked.

He looked at her, smiling gingerly. “Does that surprise you?”

“Sort of,” she said, and when he looked at her curiously, she added, “you’re just good at this, I guess.”

“Am I?” His grin grew.

“Don’t get a big head or anything, but yeah. Definitely makes a girl feel like a princess.”

“Well, you deserve nothing less.” He was so genuine that Emma shivered. “Cold?” He asked, concerned. She shook her head, but he didn’t believe her. And as if it weren’t the most cliché thing he could have done, he shrugged off his leather jacket and put it over her shoulders.

They enjoyed the natural and comfortable silence that came with gently crashing waves and whispering wind. Emma and Killian sat there for a while, just basking in the peacefulness of it and appreciating each other’s company.

Anyone’s voice but his would’ve cut through the silence, slicing it and making it bleed, but his caressed the quiet, making her feel warm and light. “You seemed...surprised,” he said.

“Hm?”

“Surprised, earlier. At the restaurant, the reservations, it surprised you. Why?” He asked.

“Oh, well, I guess that my last boyfriend wasn’t really one to make reservations at the nicest place in town,” she shrugged.

“It was Neal Gold, right?”

“Yeah,” she still felt a stab at his name, but she also felt like someone was there to put pressure on her wound.

“Sorry, but he’s kind of a dick,”

She laughed, releasing the tension in her body. “Oh, absolutely. He did a lot of things and said a lot of things that I think my brother would’ve killed him for,”

“So he’s the reason you think you don’t deserve to be treated like a princess,” he stated, and it sounded nothing like a question.

“I guess, maybe. He just...reminded me of who I am,”

“And just who are you, Swan?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Perhaps I would,” he was so honest, so authentic that it made her heart shudder.

Another minute of silence passed between them before she spoke again.

“I was left on the side of the highway as a baby. I bounced around foster care for years, always the girl no one wanted. Just a lost girl, never anything more.” Her arms moved to hug herself almost subconsciously. “And then I found David and Ruth. I was fourteen when they took me in, and I could never have asked for a better family. I never dreamed I would even have one to begin with.”

He watched her carefully in the moonlight, taking in all her words and every flicker of her eyes. But what he felt wasn’t pity, it was understanding.

“My dad left us when I was seven, just after we found out mum was sick. My brother Liam took care of her–and me–until she died. They took me away from him after that. He was too young to be my legal guardian. He was only just able to find me again, right before we moved here.”

It was her turn to watch him, watch as the words fell out of his lips as if they’d been waiting to do that forever. The weight that sat between them had been lifted.

Emma’s hand moved slightly, just enough to cover Killian’s. His eyes flitted to hers, and then he flipped his hand so his fingers could lock with hers.

Killian Jones was slowly disassembling her walls, brick by brick. He was careful, and all he had to do was give it a slight tug, no breaking required.

It was late by the time they made it back to Ruth’s place (Emma’s place), but she still didn’t want the night to end. They stood on her porch, hands still intertwined.

“Thank you. For tonight,” she said, smiling up at him.

“It was truly my pleasure, Swan. I’m only glad you had a good time,” he told her.

“I’m really happy that Will made that bet,” she told him. “Oh my god, we forgot to take pictures! We don’t have any photographic evidence for him,”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to go out again, won’t we?” He smirked.

“I don’t think I’d mind that too much,” she murmured, her eyes catching on his lips.

“No?” He asked, leaning in somewhat.

“No, I don’t think I would.” She said, closing the distance between them and captured his lips with hers.  

#once upon a time #fanfic #ao3 #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #cs ff #killian jones #Emma swan #elisethewritingbeast #writing #high school au #cheerleader x nerd trope #personal writing