#I was planning on doing a small little doodle what HAPPENED

[mammomlette]

OBEY ME YOUNGER BROTHERS AS SOULMATE TROPES!

Includes: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, GN!Reader/MC

Warnings: Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphies (not explicitly said but obvious foreshadowing for a twist), implied manipulation (Belphies) (not sure if that needs a warning but better safe than sorry)

Notes: I’m still quite new to fanfics and Tumblr, and honestly just writing in my free time in general so constructive criticism is defo encouraged!! Also I won’t lie to you, Satan did seem a tad ooc erm…

SATAN: writing/drawings on hands appear on eachother

* As soon as you turned 18, you noticed small phrases and notes appearing on your right hand

* It started off with small things like “page 562” or “British shorthair.” Just things to keep as a reminder or to be able to search it up later

* However, as time went by, the notes became a bit more… concerning

* Concerning book quotes from old literature, sometimes in other languages, and nefarious plans to prank someone called ‘Lucifer’

* Your soulmate plans to prank the devil himself. Haha. What a great idea.

* You brushed it off for a while, appreciating the occasional cat fact or chapter reminder and just ignoring the angry words about Lucifer.

* Eventually, you began to build up the courage to respond. Small things relating to things your soulmate wrote, like cat doodles (good or bad as your art skill may be) or going over the writing of the reminder when you notice it started to fade

* Not knowing if it was your place to write down your own notes or just not quite having that amount of bravery, you still did those little things to let your soulmate know that hey, you’re there and you’re always reading what they have to say.

* Satan thought he was hallucinating.

* Thousands of years spent just jotting things down to remind himself of things at a later date, frequently on his hand, and suddenly things started to change?

* He had wrote “British shorthair” on his palm in hopes of being able to look it up later, and a few minutes later he looks down to his palm to search it up and sees a… cat?? It’s really not clear. It’s round, with two points on the top of its head… yeah thats a cat.

* He’s become so obsessed he’s hallucinating badly drawn cats, which is probably a cause for concern, so naturally he confides in his brothers about this and is comforted that no he’s not hallucinating, however cats are just randomly appearing on his hand.

* They continue to appear, circles with two triangles, some looking better than others and some with more odd features likes birthday hats or weird outfits

* He finally decided to read up on what could be happening and was quickly met with the term ‘soulmates’

* He had heard of this a long time ago from one of his brothers while he was still young (for a demon) and brushed it off as a fairy tale. Why had his soulmate only started communicating with his just now?

* He moved on eventually and time passed, a new human being introduced to his home and his family.

* It took an embarrassingly long time to realise that his human was also his soulmate, it wasn’t until you were both just chilling in his room and you were doodling something next to some words on your arm that he noticed a cat appearing on his own arm.

* “Look! The cat thing is happening!” He shouted, a lot more emotion out into it that he would’ve liked due to the sheer shock

* You stopped what you were doing and look at his arm, the cat drawing having ceased its being drawn while you stared at the cat, face turning into shock and then seriousness. Because that is the cat that you just drew.

* “Satan.” You said, just staring into his eyes without any expression

* “Yes, MC?” He responded, worried at your monotony. His mouth then gaped open and you showed him your arm, cat half doodled next to the words “page 236, sticky notes needed”

* You both just made dead eye contact for a second before your eyes both began to flick back and forth and your lips slowly started to quiver

* Both of your sweet laughters filled the room, how ironic that such a common book trope would be what flew under Satan’s nose for so long.

ASMODEUS: soulmate telepathy

* Ever since you turned 18, you had been hearing a voice in your head.

* Not necessarily in a concerning way! In the way it happens when you and your soulmate have both turned 18 and can finally communicate.

* At first, you thought that you were hearing things. Things like “Ooo, this would be a great touch to my outfit! ♡” and “Can’t believe my bath wasn’t 3 hours long today…” flooding your mind. Since when were you SO picky about your clothes and hygiene, even when not in the process of dressing or washing? And since when were your baths 3 hours?

* Quickly though, you realised that this voice wasn’t your own. It was a melodic sounding voice that felt like honey and most definitely did not belong to you.

* You had heard from your family growing up and your friends recently that once you had become an adult you would be able to communicate with your soulmate through your thoughts, proof of the bond your souls shared, thoughts intertwining together.

* You found that whenever you were deep in thought and rambling to yourself you’d be met with a “hon, slow down” in your mind or that whenever you were trying to figure out an outfit your soulmate would chime in to offer their expert advice without hesitation

* No hesitation at all, because Asmo had waited his entire life for this.

* Thousands of years of life believing that he had no soulmate, destined to forever be a player

* So long spent reading and gushing over cute romance stories where soulmate meet and finding comfort in romcoms about that very topic, and here he was finally with his own soulmate in his mind

* The way you would thank him for his advice before his mind went quiet from your thoughts again until you later told him how well everything went and the way you would ramble internally to him without even realising you were connected to his mind made his heart flutter, even without your face your voice and soul were beautiful

* One day he had been summoned alongside his brothers to the student council room to welcome the new human exchange student. It was a hassle that could be spent doing something more productive like his skincare or extra time in the bath, but he was still just so excited he had to tell you how excited he was to meet the new human!

* “New human?” You thought, but had no response from your soulmate before you appeared inside of a council room in front of 5 attractive strange men.

* You panicked and were kind of in autopilot mode as a tall man in all red introduced you to your situation and a slightly-less-tall man in black started to introduce you to his brothers

* You still had small responses in your shock, and a certain demon recognised your voice.

* You were immediately snapped out of autopilot when you heard the voice of the second brother you were introduced to, an admitted handsome man with slightly-pink-tinted light brown hair and stunning orangeish eyes said “Oh come now. Really? You should be that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” And you froze.

* You looked like a deer in headlights to lucifer who was trying to introduce you to a blonde demon, but to Asmo, you looked like the most beautiful creature to ever walk the three realms (asides from himself, naturally) and the only person worthy of him.

* Asmo saw beauty in everyone, but everyone else paled in comparison to your face in this moment and your voice every other previous time he had heard it.

* He looked at you with knowing eyes and your eyes finally softened from your shocked face, finally understanding what he meant earlier by “new human”

* It would take time for you to get used to being in a new world with a demon as your soulmate, it would take time for him to get used to loving someone more intimately than as lust, but you both had eachother and the bond that ties your minds together and that’s all you needed.

BEELZEBUB: you share (some of) your soulmate’s pain

* It was growing unbearable.

* The slight yet constant ache in your stomach, a pit that was never quite full.

* For years you mistook it for your own hunger, not sure if you should be eating more or not

* It was always there, always something that disctracted you whenever you were left alone in silence or trying to sleep at night, always waiting for you to finish a meal just to make you feel that familiar ache again.

* It was just insufferable.

* It wasn’t just the hunger, though. There would be times where your muscles would ache like you had been working out without a proper cool down or your arms felt like they had bruised from defending or blocking against something

* You inquired with your friends about this and were just told that it would be your soulmate. You shared pain with your soulmate, and your soulmate always seemed in pain

* It wasn’t a pain that came from attacks or falling, just a pit that always felt so empty it hurt but could never be filled.

* Was your soulmate starving to death? You wished there was a way to help them, to soothe the pain, but without knowing who they are there was no way to fix it.

* As of present, you had been sent into the devildom a few weeks ago and had began to slowly feel adjusted to the devildom and your roommates and you had grown fond of one in particular: Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.

* You sympathised with him and his constant hunger since you yourself always felt a small bit of this hunger, even if you’d learnt by now that it wasn’t yours to fix

* So naturally, you hung a round him more

* You spent time with him whenever you could just because you wanted to, accompanying him to the gym or treating him to Hell’s Kitchen or even just sitting with him when he was lonely and missing his brother who had gone to the human world

* And it felt like every time you gave him the food you were craving so much, that pit in your stomach was filled just a bit

* Always there, never going away, but it felt just that bit more bearable and ignorable for a short while

* Who knew you were such an empath?

* Of course it crossed your mind of that Beel could be your soulmate, but what are the chances? You dismissed the thought whenever it appeared, not wanting to get your hopes up

* However, your hopes were validated one night in the kitchen with Beel.

* You were preparing him a small snack, just cutting up some devildom-style bread for him when you accidentally put your finger down at the wrong time in the wrong place and cut it

* You hissed at the pain, putting down the knife to look at your finger and you thought you heard Beel grunt.

* “MC, are you okay?” He inquired, approaching you to look at your finger while slightly cradling his own for some reason

* “Uh, yeah, I just need a plaster or something, would you mind..?” “Yeah, of course.” He continued to clutch his finger while reaching for the cabinet, letting go for a second to open it and grab you a plaster

* “Are you okay? You’re holding your finger too.” You were slightly worried by his mannerisms even though you didn’t see a cut on his fingers.

* “Yeah, my finger just hurt all of a sudden. It’s fine though. Here, I’ll put the plaster on for you.”

* You fell into comfortable silence as he opened the plaster and began pressing in down, but he pressed down a bit too hard which hurt you, causing both of you to hiss.

* “Seriously Beel, are you okay?” He nodded. “Yeah, it’s just like whenever you get hurt my finger hurts too.”

* Lightbulb. You realised finally that those slight considerations were valid and the connection you felt with Beel was real. The hunger you felt wasn’t yours and the reason it was numbed when you gave him food is because it was his.

* He seemed to have realised this too, because he paused and looked at you, slowly smiling.

* “MC, I just realised something. I think that-“ you cut him off with a kiss, smiling now too.

BELPHEGOR: you have a countdown until your soulmate’s death

* Surely there was an error in the system.

* Call you crazy but you didn’t quite think that 378,691,205,018 seconds is applicable to the human life span.

* You had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either non-existent and the universe was fucking with you or they were some kind of non human entity and obviously both of these answers were stupid but at least the former was possible.

* You’d grown accepting overtime that you didn’t have a soulmate unlike how most of your friends did and that you’d never have that sort of unconditional love

* Not having a soulmate wasn’t unheard of, just uncommon.

* And you got the short end of the stick. That’s all there was to it.

* UNTIL you got randomly abducted one day into literal hell where pretty much all beings there loved for thousands of years.

* ‘Maybe I have a chance now?’ You crossed the thought out from your mind. First of all, these were demons and most of them had made attempts on your life at some point or another, and secondly almost all of them either a) didn’t have a timer, which meant no soulmate, b) had an insanely high timer that you’d never be able to reach or c) had already found their soulmate

* You sighed to yourself and began to lose hope again, walking up the stairs to the attic

* A short while ago, you had found a human locked in the attic, who had asked you to help him. You clicked, something in that moment just felt like it had been put in place like the final puzzle piece so you trusted him without really knowing why

* But you had even more recently found out from his brother that he was bulshitting you and that he was probably the demon Belphegor, so now you just wanted to figure out what was going on

* You continued to march up the stairs and finally arrived at the attic to confront him or at least question him

* “Are you Belphegor?” You cut to the chase not wanting to bother with any more of his lies.

* He was silent for a second before grinning, devilish look that you’d expect from the decent ruler or the underworld gleaming in his eyes as he said “Aww, so you’ve already figured me out, have you? Well, you’re no fun at all.”

* You glared, and tried to decide whether declaring he was a liar or asking why he was a liar would be a better idea

* But he spoke up again before you could decide.

* “That timer on your neck, what does it say?”

* You paused, not knowing the exact number. “Um, like, there’s hundred billion seconds-ish? Why?”

* “Because I’m a demon. I’m going to live long enough to fulfil that. Look at my timer, here. It has 13,140,014 seconds. No demon would live that short.”

* “And is thirteen million a lot of time?”

* “About a human lifespan, bit under.”

* You hummed. It made sense to you looking at it at the moment, though you could’ve sworn it was a little bit under your guess, you trusted him.

* Why? He lied to you about being a human, so why do you trust him?

* Because he’s your soulmate. There’s no doubt in your mind. The click, the need to trust him, even seeing him in your dreams. It was right.

* So you believed him, and didn’t give the thirteen million seconds much question. You were going to save him, save your soulmate.

* Because thirteen million seems like a long time, and I guess it was long enough for you to save him. Just not enough to do much more.

#obey me #obey me solmare #obey me! #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me asmo x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me Belphie x reader #but not really cause this is prior to him changing their views since it’s one of their first meetings #x reader #soulmates #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #have I put too many tags #embarrassing #gn reader

[pachirobi]

She [Parallel] on my [Canon] till I [Intensify Harmony]

-extremely loud buzzer-

#I was planning on doing a small little doodle what HAPPENED #a demon posesssed me or smth bc I woke up an hour after I sketched her head and this was on my laptop #i'm not complaining tho except I am bc I wanted to doodle some headcanons before I had to go to bed ;; #that's for tomorrow me to deal with i suppose #agent 4 #splatoon #splatoon 3 #splatoon side order #side order spoilers #parallel canon #arg… that be me art matey

[milunalupin]

Hi! It’s so cute what you’ve written about Regulus. Could I request a blurb about Regulus being so smitten with reader that he pretty much forgets how to breathe and therefore never answers whenever she talks to him? Either with them already dating or just being classmates ☺️

Hope you have a lovely day!

sorry for the wait lovely, i hope you enjoy !! :)

— take my breath away

regulus black x reader ★ 1.1k words

Divination is shit. A complete load of dragon shit. There's no hard research behind it, no factual information, just conclusions based off of feelings. Regulus doesn't understand visions and wanting to know what's to come. He's has his future planned out for him, so what were tea leaves and crystal balls going to do for him?

Continue the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black family legacy, be the perfect son and the top student in every class. Easy enough for Regulus, except for being 3rd in Divination because he "lacked natural aptitude". How ridiculous. Lucky for him his parents were far more focused on him doing well in Charms and Potions than reading tarot cards and interpreting dreams.

The one thing he doesn't mind seeing during this period was you, someone he could never dream of having the pleasure to call his. You weren't born into a pureblood family, and weren't even close to rivaling him academically. He doesn't ever recall seeing you at a quidditch match either, at least not when Slytherin was playing. With your effortless beauty and blinding smile, he's confident he would have noticed you among the others in the stands.

Regulus doesn't know when he started to crush on you, it just kind of happened. One day he started to notice small things about you, from your baby blue nail polish to your lavender perfume that did everything but calm his heartrate. He would pass by your table on the way to his own and see you reading what he assumed to be muggle poetry. The quiet Slytherin would look for those same muggle poetry books in the library late at night. He liked it when the sun sometimes shone right on your face, your eyes squinting and nose scrunching adorably. You would often mumble haikus and villanelles to yourself during class, plush lips moving quietly as you stared out the window, in your own world.

Just like today, you hovered over your parchment, your quill moving in a way that it was obvious that you were not taking notes on the lecture being given. The professor noticed your distracted state, calling your name out. "Please tell us all what ovomancy is."

"It's.. erm.." you giggled nervously, your face flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry Professor, I wasn't paying attention."

Regulus held back a lovesick sigh, smiling to himself as you continued to doodle on your parchment as soon as the professor sighed and turned their back. As lucky as he wished he was, he wasnt daft enough to believe he was your only admirer.

Edgar Bones was a charming guy. Regulus wonders what was so funny about him that he had you giggling behind your hand, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his quill a little too tight. Every table was assigned a different method, so while he and his partner were busy taking notes on capnomancy, you and Bones were having fun with palmistry. The bitter Slytherin supposed the smoke he felt coming out of his ears meant jealousy, watching Edgar asking to hold your hand to see if he can read it that way.

"Merde, ça n'a rien à voir avec.." he hissed, his anger turning to yearning as he craved to be the one holding your hand.

Ah, less-- less bright

Are the stars of night

Than the eyes of the radiant girl!

And never a flake

That the vapor can make

With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,

Can vie with the modest Eulalie's

most unregarded curl-

Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's

most humble and careless curl.

Regulus Black feels pathetic, writing love notes like a little schoolboy. Especially if his parents found out he was quoting muggle poetry. But there he was in the corner of the library, copying down yet another poem to leave on your table at the beginning of your next shared class.

He arrived early to Divination, quickly setting his folded parchment on your table and then sitting at his own. It's been weeks since he began to anonymously leave you poetry, too shy to talk to you face to face. You always read the letter and put it into your school bag, so hopefully you were keeping them and not tossing them out later when no one was watching. Regulus' knee bounced under the table as the other students started to file in, his eyes darting between the door and the folded parchment he left for you. He decided to get started on his next letter, hunching over his parchment to get the words just right.

Regulus was too distracted by perfecting his penmanship to notice you walk into the classroom and watch as he gently placed today's poem on your table. You smiled to yourself and went to your seat, tracing your beautifully written name with your finger. You had felt flattered when you first started receiving the letters, assuming that it had been your flirty class partner Edgar, but quickly realized that he wasn't the type to do such a thing.

"Your cursive letters weren't this perfect when you first started leaving me poetry, have you been practicing for me Regulus Black?"

Regulus gasps a little too fast, choking in surprise at your discovery. He turns away to cough into his sleeve like the proper boy he is. You grinned at the young heir, picking up his newest letter he had been working on.

His eyes widened and frantically waved his hands, trying to take the letter back but you held it behind you out of his reach. "You don't have to read th—"

"Shut up Regulus."

He placed his hands back in his lap, his ears burning red as you read his letter in front of him, the corners of your mouth turning upwards. Regulus felt himself holding his breath, knowing he had to say something now or sit there looking like a fool. He took a quick breath and kept his eyes on the parchment as he rushed his words out. "Perhaps, we could go to the library one day and read poetry together?"

He shouldn't have looked up because he felt himself lose oxygen again when he saw your enchanting self was smiling cheekily down at him.

"Or we could go down by the lake and you could read me some of your favorites?"

Regulus agrees with a shy nod and makes a mental note to use the Bubble-Head charm in case he forgets to breathe. He'll forget all about the charm later when your head is laying sleepily on his shoulder as he recites old poetry from his journal.

#marauders era #marauders #marauders x reader #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus arcturus black #regulus x reader

[1427]

would you? (pt 1)

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your mom died when you were 15, your Aunt Lucille was given custody even though she was battling cancer. When the world gets upended and Lucille dies, Negan is all you have, but he isn’t cut out to be a parent. When he becomes the leader of the Saviors and takes residence in the Sanctuary he’s almost a stranger. No one wants anything to do with you because you’re Negan’s “daughter”. So when you confront Negan about needing company, he obliges. You don’t realize that the feelings you’re developing are inappropriate, but Negan does.

Setting: height of the Saviors-era Sanctuary. 

Warnings: step-dad!negan (kind of), still it’s all morally questionable (morally objectionable probably), Negan being manipulative and neglectful (listen it’s Negan at his most King Dick okay??? Just know what you signed up for if you’re going to read it), mentions of dead relatives, masturbation (m and f), sexual themes (obvi), virgin!reader

Word count: 4k

17+ mdni

// part 2 //

masterlist

You were off limits. It’s not as if they weren’t allowed to talk to you, but no one wanted to even find out where that line was. Being Negan’s “daughter” had more downsides than perks as far as you were concerned. A glorified prisoner that just happened to have all your needs met. Well, except one. Human connection, physical contact. 

You’re so sick of being in your room. The Sanctuary was suffocating enough, but one room? The only time you ever left was to go down to get food, and even then it’s not like anyone spoke to you. You just grabbed whatever you needed, from whatever table. From the Saviors down to the prisoners, everyone avoided even making eye contact. 

You didn’t live in the same area of the Sanctuary as Negan and his wives. You used to. You’re sure that one of his wives had probably taken up the space that you’d left, the room next to his. You’d left after he took his second wife. You’d been debating it since he’d taken the first one, the noises coming from his room alone were enough to send you packing. But isn’t that what adults do? So you’d tried to just ignore it. Like you imagined you’d have had to do if none of this happened and you were still with your mom. 

Two wives, though? You’d never felt close to Negan. Not like he was your father. But… shouldn’t he be? Shouldn’t he have acted like it? He’d protected you like you were his own when you were still out there - but once he founded “the Saviors” and became their oh-so-ruthless ‘leader’ he almost acted like you didn’t exist. Or worse, that you were some thing he had to look after. Some sniveling little child that he seemingly wanted nothing to do with. 

That was a few years ago. Now you’re 18, and totally fucking bored to death. Trapped in a Fuckin’ smelting facility like it’s a goddamn high tower, and you’re the lady of Shallot. Interacting with the world around you, but not really. Oh, and he has 5 wives now. Gross. 

You’ve finally fucking had it. Negan has a strict policy about you leaving the Sanctuary even to just go outside. He can come collect you himself if he really cares that much. Stupid fuckin’ rules. 

You bring one of your notebooks and a pen. With no plans of leaving, or doing something stupid, you just want some fresh air. You just want something different. And maybe, a little bit, you wanted to piss him off. 

You’re sitting on the ledge right outside the Sanctuary, legs dangling off the concrete. Your notebook at your lap and your pen in your hand, scribbling little doodles and shapes. Writing out small flashes of feelings as you feel them. Just wanting to document the outside as if you’d never see it again. 

You were in bliss a grand total of twenty minutes before you heard his tongue clicking behind you. Maybe you’d have been better off just running while you had the chance. “I know you know better than to be out here, kid.” 

You roll your eyes and look up from your notebook, taking in the scenery while you still could, “Eighteen. Not a kid.”

“Shit, 18 already?”

It hurts. That he doesn’t remember your birthday, or how old you are. That no one in the whole world cares that you spent three birthdays by yourself, with no one to even remember or know that they’d happened. You try to be grateful, you have really really tried. But everyone’s got a breaking point. “At least, I think so. If no one wishes you happy birthday, does it still count?” Okay, so you could have come at him a little harder, but he was still Negan and you were fairly sure that he didn’t feel any responsibility for you anymore. Especially if you’re an adult now. You try to gauge things on if this were the real world, if things were still how they used to be. And 18 meant Negan held no legal responsibility to be your guardian anymore. 

“Goddamn that is sad!” But he makes no attempt to comfort. Doesn’t even wish you a belated happy birthday. 

“Yup.” You don’t move from your seat even as you hear him suck on his teeth, clearly expecting you to get up and get back inside. 

“Alright, come on, kid. Can’t have you out here.” 

“Not a kid.” You bite back again. 

He stifles a laugh, “Yeah. Right.” He’s smiling that same shit eating smile that seems to be plastered permanently on his face nowadays. You can’t figure out what’s so fucking funny all the time. Especially now. 

You don’t know how to ask him, what words to say I need a friend. I need a boyfriend. No one talks to me because you’re terrifying. You think about it the whole walk back to your room while he shadows behind. You get to your door and as he starts to walk away you manage to stammer out, “I-I need a friend!” 

He turns around, a confused (but still amused) look on his face, “So get a friend?” 

“No, you don’t get it. No one will even look at me because you scare the shit out of everyone.” 

He looks at you like he’s trying to hold something back, rubbing a gloved hand over his clenched jaw, “Ever think maybe you’re just not very like-able?”

You look back and forth on the ground in front of you. Honestly? you’d never even wondered that, it takes you back that he’d even suggested it. Negan smiles, Gotcha. Obviously that wasn’t why, and obviously it was because of Negan and the way he’d decided to lead through fear. Fear was all he had. But you were 18, emotionally neglected, and desperate for approval. Your own self worth was paper-thin. He knew that. And instead of letting you, or himself, feed into the idea that he’d failed you, he’d put all the blame elsewhere. Like he always did. Like he was good at. 

“Tell ya what, kid. I’ll spend time with you.” Your hero. 

You could see through it, but what could you really do about it? You chew on your lip trying to figure out how to respond to such a ridiculous and ludicrous display of manipulation. “Fine.” After all, it was better than being stuck in your room. Maybe you’d meet someone, maybe one of the Saviors was cute. Maybe something could happen organically and Negan would lighten up on you a little bit, “Not a kid, though.”

Negan laughs, “Yeah, alright. Lunch tomorrow, come to the common room. You remember where that is, right?” It felt like a taunt. 

“Okay.” You nodded without looking up at him, and finally turned the knob you’d been holding behind you. Letting your body fall back into your room, and shutting the door behind you. 

This was a bad idea. You could feel it down to your bones. 

✨🦇

You’re silently grateful that he sent his wives away to do other things. And though he’d told you to meet in the common room, you were sat in his bedroom eating lunch. You’d never seen so much food put out for just two people, but you weren’t surprised. Any and every opportunity Negan had to show off, he did. 

You felt awkward, uncomfortable, and worse - afraid. Negan could tell, and while a part of him reveled in it, another part of him could tell that he was fucking you up. That he already had. No 18 year old girl should be this afraid of having lunch with the only family she knew. The only person she knew. Fuck yeah, he’d fucked you up. “So, kid - I mean, shit. Sorry, gonna have to get used to not calling you that.” 

“I think you’ll manage.” You grumble, pushing the food around on your plate. You should have just stayed in your room. One thing that you’d picked up over the year or so with Negan out there? His attitude. 

He laughs in response, “Yeah,” he nods, chewing his food with an open mouth, “Guess I’ll have to, you’re going to have lunch here from now on.” 

Your eyes shoot up from your plate to look at him, “Why?” 

“Because - you’re getting all fucked up and stupid.” 

That makes you snort a laugh in response. “Yeah.. wonder who’s fault that is,” you say sarcastically back at him, taking a bite of food. 

“Probably your dead as shit mom.” Negan knows he went too far as soon as he says it, but he doesn’t make any attempt to take it back, to apologize. Instead he just looks at you, a half smile cocked on his face, twirling his fork in a giant helping of spaghetti. Like he’s almost impressed with himself for taking it there. 

“Wow.” You mouth, completely taken aback. You’d cried over your mom so many times, and this? From Negan? You were too shocked to react emotionally. Not here, not now. Maybe he was right and you were more fucked up than you realized. 

“So, uh, what do you do all day?” Negan had been genuinely curious. Well, for the last day or so. He had more or less forgotten you even existed until then. 

You push food around on your plate again, “Write, sew, read, draw. Started painting a few months ago but I fucking suck at it.” You sigh, “anything to keep my hands busy.” 

Negan chokes on the water he’s drinking and you give him a look of mild disgust. “Not that.” His eyes twinkle a little in disbelief. Yeah right you didn’t do that. You were 18, of course you did. But without anything, or anyone, to think about it got boring quickly. Sometimes a good book came your way and you’d have some material, for a little while. A chapter, or a page, or more usually just a few paragraphs that would keep you somehow sated. Somewhat. 

Still, you weren’t about to have that conversation with him. And Negan was more than grateful, his mind reeling at the idea that no one had ever had ‘the talk’ with you. And now, in this end of times, you didn’t even have television to teach you. No, Negan could absolutely not discuss the birds and the bees with you. He was not built for that. 

The rest of lunch is uneventful. He talks, you listen. He feels better about himself, and you feel nothing.

✨🦇

Lunches with Negan get better. Less awkward, more like an actual friendship… or something. You find yourself laughing at his shitty jokes, at least they’re jokes. At least it’s something. You stop needing to convince yourself that you only enjoy it because it’s better than nothing, you actually seem to like his company. You look forward to lunch, getting out of your room, laughing with him. Negan enjoys it too, but it’s still off. You’re still.. how he would describe ‘fucked up’ or ‘not normal’. You flirt with him. Relentlessly. He tries to ignore it, tells himself that maybe it’s just your personality, but he knows. You don’t. You’re completely oblivious. After all, you really have nothing to go off of. Nothing to base anything around. 

He gets you romance novels, asks the Saviors to grab them when they’re out on runs. He thinks this is the closest you can get to having television, to having someone or something teach you about that kind of stuff. Maybe that they would teach you the difference between platonic and romantic feelings. 

Really, though, he’s just making you horny. Even more than you had been, and he’s still the only person you talk to. He figures he could and probably should use his position to get you some kind of boyfriend, but it feels all wrong. Like some sort of arranged marriage, and it disgusts him. 

You touch yourself more often than you ever have. The romance novels finally feed this need. You think about the characters in the books, the lewd imagery described. It’s all so new and exciting. You never think about Negan, or something gross like that. 

It’s been a few months since the last one he brought you, but today at lunch he pushes over a whole stack. You jump up from your seat, too excited to contain yourself, and you jump on him in a hug. Burying your face into the crook of his neck. You can feel your heartbeat all the way down to your fingers as you pull back and, with a blush, sit back down in your seat, “Thank you.” 

Negan’s body is stiff while you hug him, and while you sit back down, an uncomfortable smirk on his lips. “You are very welcome.” Even through his discomfort he can’t help the pride bubbling over within him. Every other aspect of himself is weak to his desire for worship. 

When you leave that day, with your stack of books, you hug him again and kiss his cheek before running off to your room. 

Shit, Negan thinks to himself. Shit fuck shit. You’re only getting worse, more obvious. Now you’re hugging him and kissing him on the cheek? Maybe you’re just grateful for the books. But he knows.. this is wrong. He’s making it worse, maybe you’re past the point of being able to fix. For now, he ignores it. Maybe… hopefully… it’s just the books. 

If he had asked you, you would have reassured him. Obviously it’s just the books. You don’t wonder if it’s weird that you touch yourself after lunch, before even opening one of the new books. You don’t think about Negan, just the feeling of stubbled skin under your lips. The warmth of a person in your arms, your chest pressed up against someone. It was the first human contact you’d had since you got to the Sanctuary, and it set you on fire. 

✨🦇

Negan knows he fucked up. You hug him now after every lunch. Only giving him a kiss on the cheek when he brings you a new book or some other small gift. He doesn’t acknowledge within himself that since you started doing that, he’s started getting you more gifts. 

Eventually, though, he can’t keep ignoring it. One particularly bad week, where it seems everyone hates him, none of his wives will have sex with him. Not even a fucking handjob. He’s forced into the degrading task of jerking himself off, something he hasn’t done in years. And, while the shame doesn’t come until after he’s finished, he thinks about you. 

You, with all your nervous glances of prying eyes. The way your developed chest feels against his when you hug him. He fantasizes your lips asking him questions like, “Is this what I’m supposed to do?” 

“Do boys really like that?” 

“You want me to use my mouth?” 

His forehead pressed firmly against the closed door of his bathroom, he opens his eyes to look down at himself. His swollen member in his hand, throbbing over the thought of you. 

“I don’t think that’s going to fit inside me.” He groans keeps going, imagining his cock is the first thing ever pushed inside your tight hole. 

Streaks of his cum paint the door, and he peels his forehead back before slamming it against the wood again. Fuck, this shit is not fucking okay. 

✨🦇

Negan doesn’t know that he absolutely would not be the first thing inside your precious virgin pussy. No, you’d started to get creative. Finding your fingers almost useless when it came to hitting that spot you’d discovered deep inside. They were never hard enough, fast enough, thick enough. The handle of your hairbrush was your favorite. It was the easiest to keep clean, the easiest to maneuver. But it still wasn’t exactly what you wanted. Nothing ever seemed to be quite enough. Every orgasm left you wanting. 

Wanting what? Because you never found yourself wanting a boyfriend anymore when it used to be all you thought about. You think of feeling Negan’s facial hair against your cheek, and your body is rocked by its second orgasm for the night. Tossing the hairbrush to the end of the bed, you roll over and fall asleep. 

✨🦇

You startle awake to the sound of a knock on your door. It’s loud, demanding, Negan. 

Getting off the bed you turn on the light with a sleepy grumble. You pull some pants on, and he knocks again. “I’m awake!” You yell, “hold on!” But this only spurs him to knock more aggressively. 

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is going on?” You mutter as you finally unlock and open the door. Obviously it was Negan, but what you weren’t expecting was how absolutely disheveled he looked. “Woah, what happened to you?” 

“Remind me to teach you manners.” He says as he pushes past you and into your room. 

“Come right in.” You say sarcastically, turning around and shutting the door behind you. He’s sat on your bed, looking around at all the things in your room, his eyes settling on your rows of romance novels. He gets up from the bed and walks over to the bookshelf, pressing a finger into one of the book spines before pulling it out and skimming through it. 

“Are you… drunk?” You ask him, the smell of alcohol emanating from him only becoming more obvious the longer he stands there, slightly swaying on his feet. 

“Why?” He asks defensively, his eyes not moving from the page of the book he’s trying to read. 

“Because you smell like booze?” 

He ignores your question and your reason for asking, slamming the book shut as he gets to a particularly dirty part and he can’t bear to read anymore. “We need to talk.” And he looks at you. 

You’re nervous, standing there anxiously you start to play with your hair and look away, “Oh, okay… wha- what about?” 

“This!” He exclaims with an extended arm, motioning at you, “You. What are you doing?”

You look at him confused, brow knit together trying to purse some sort of answer, “I’m not… I was sleeping.” You shake your head, not understanding at all what he was getting at. 

“You’re twirling your goddamn hair.” Oh. He was right, you had been. But what does that mean to him? You look at him even more confused. 

Closing your eyes, one hand comes up to massage the bridge of your nose, “Okay, I’ll never twirl my hair again?” You shrug your shoulders as if to ask him if that would be all. Too sleep-kissed to comprehend what the hell he was going on about. 

“No, Jesus-fucking-Christ, girl, the flirting. You gotta stop. I’ve let it go on too long, and it’s not.. shit, it’s not appropriate, all right?” 

You rub your eyes harder as you hear his words, what a fucking idiot, you think. You can’t help the smile that starts to form on your face as you answer him, “Negan, I’m not… I don’t….” You can’t even bring yourself to say it. 

He puts the book down and shakes his head, even now you were clearly into him. All nervous, smiling. Giddy. 

“You are. And you need to stop. I can’t… I can’t keep having meals with you if you’re going to be hugging me, kissing me on the cheek. It’s wrong.” 

You actually manage a laugh at his ridiculous behavior. Coming in like this, filled with liquor and angst and thinking he’s figured something out about you. “I’m not into you, Negan. Hugging and kisses on the cheek aren’t always romantic.” You say it like you’re letting him in on something he’d never considered. 

He nods, “Yeah, that’s true.” Negan turns to face the wall away from you, shaking his head as he looks up to the ceiling. “It’s not just that. It’s the way you look at me, the way you laugh. Shit, girl, it’s the way you’re lookin’ at me now.” 

“Don’t you think I’d know?” You cut in, without responding to his most recent accusation. 

“I don’t know, kid, would you? You probably have a bunch of hormones running wild in your body and you have no idea what to do with them. I’m not blaming you. I mean…” he stops himself before he starts talking about how attractive he is, and how no one could blame you for feeling this way. 

“I know what to do with my hormones, Negan.” You say blankly, is he really trying to have this conversation? You’re not. Jesus Christ, he can’t really think that you don’t know how to relieve that ‘tension’ on your own. What did he think you were doing with the romance novels? 

He smiles at your little admission, nodding and rubbing his jaw, “Yeah, I’m sure you do. Let me ask you something..” he takes a step toward you and you feel your heartbeat skyrocket. His eyes staring you down with such intensity you have to look away, “how do you feel, huh, when I get close to you?” He steps closer, now only a foot away. Your eyes cast down to the ground, a knot forming in your throat, “you can’t even look at me,” he whispers. 

As if to prove him wrong you look up at him. Your breath hitches and he can hear it. You can hear it. Your heart hammering against your ribcage, you swallow. Shit. 

Big doe eyes look up at him, and he feels all the blood rush between his legs. Hard as a rock for you in seconds, that deft innocence, those pretty lips moving without a sound. Trying to form some kind of response. You… looking up at him and having feelings you’ve never felt before. This is why it has to stop. Negan’s never been good at controlling these urges, and the more you look up at him like that the less he wants to. 

You try to speak, to tell him he’s wrong, but your voice quivers, “I… I don’t. I’m not…” Your smile that you can’t manage to stop only confuses you more. 

“You are.” He slams his fist on the wall next to you, causing you to jump a little. He looks back down at you, your eyes enveloped in fear and nervousness, cheeky smile gone. Negan takes two fingers and holds them to your throat, “Do you feel your heart beating out of your chest? I bet if I..” he takes your throat in his hand and you whimper out the slightest moan. 

His lips turn up in a smile as he brings his face even closer to yours. “See? I’ve barely got my hands on you and you’re already moaning.” 

It hits you fast, the shame and desire all at once. Mostly the desire, with his hand at your throat and his voice saying words you’ve only ever read. Shit. 

You don’t know how to respond, you can’t think straight. You just nod, he was right, it seems. Right? Because this certainly was having an affect on you. You wanted him to keep going, your body begged for it, but you couldn’t move. Too caught up in a fearful nervousness. This was wrong? It didn’t feel wrong. 

“Doesn’t feel wrong,” is all you manage to breathe out, unable to break your gaze from his lips. In response Negan leans back as his grip grows tighter at your neck, and you panic, bringing both of your hands up to his wrist to try and pull him away. He doesn’t let go but his grip loosens. 

Negan isn’t thinking clearly either, he hadn’t anticipated all of this. Having to convince you, prove to you, that you were having inappropriate feelings only made his own envelope him. And he was drunk. You, completely at his mercy and seemingly happy to be. Fuck shit fuck me. 

He finally lets go and pushes past you and out of your room. Leaving you completely blindsided. For once, though, you’re not confused. Not unsure. No, there was no question what you were going to do next. You were going to make it absolutely impossible for him to say no. 

Burning up your core and through your chest, into your brain. That spot, that insatiable feeling, that desperate heat that throbbed through you. Now you knew for sure, he could satiate it. 

pt 2

#Negan #negan request #negan x you #twd negan #negan smith #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan smut #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #the walking dead

[writingpastmybedtime]

Happy Accident

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Bucky and his daughter decide to paint together, but what happens when the little one retells her dream to her dad a little bit too enthusiastically?

Word Count: 690, I know it's short, but I really wanna start writing more about mob!Bucky and his family.

Warnings: None.

Request: Yes.

It had been raining heavily throughout the day, which ruined Bucky’s and his daughter’s plans to go to an amusement park that had just opened up in town. He sighed, looking at his little girl, who was currently slightly snoring, and started thinking of other fun things to do. He suddenly looked towards his daughter’s desk, when a great idea came to him.

Taking out the different coloured paints and a few pieces of paper, he sat on the floor, placing everything neatly next to him. 

“Daddy?”

Bucky glanced at his baby girl, who had just woken up from her slumber. 

“Hey there, little one,” he said, walking towards her and picking the little one up. “How’d you sleep?” 

She hugged Bucky and yawned, obviously still in the middle of waking up. Bucky chuckled and placed her on the floor, next to the paints and brushes. 

His little girl meant everything to him. She was his pride and joy, and he had hired more than enough security in and out of the house the moment he first laid eyes on her. 

The little one smiled up at him and like always Bucky was mesmerised by how someone could look so perfect.

Well besides his wife, who the little one looked like more with each day that passed. He smiled at the thought. Thankful that the world, even though cruel at times, had blessed him with a loving headstrong wife and an adorable daughter, who he could spoil till the end of time.

“Oh, are you going to paint with me?” The little girl squealed, as Bucky nodded.

She automatically turned more zealous, pushing a brush into the blue paint, and drawing a random line on the paper. 

“You know, Daddy,” she began, whilst adding more haphazard objects to the painting, her brushstrokes becoming more erratic by the second, “I had a really funny dream.” Bucky watched his little child in awe, listening attentively to her story, and at the same time doodling an obnoxiously fat cat on a separate paper.

“You were battling a big dragon, who was trying to steal Mummy.” She continued her story, taking hold of the small container for the blue colour. 

“You had this big sword and then you pushed it into the dragon's stomach-” She suddenly jumped up in enthusiasm, making the blue paint in the container fall straight onto Bucky. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” The little girl said, trying to hold back her laughter, but failing. Bucky was speechless, looking at his hands and clothes, which were all blue due to the incident. 

“You two look like you’re having fun,” Y/N spoke, looking at the mess in front of her. If only Bucky’s employees could see their mob boss right now, covered in blue paint from head to toe and looking completely helpless. Y/N tilted her head and smiled at the sight of her dear husband.

‘Mummy,’ the little child squealed and ran up to her mum. “I accidentally spilled the blue paint on Daddy, but I didn’t mean to, I swear.” Y/N laughed, looking at Bucky, who was still trying to comprehend what had happened, albeit with an amused expression appearing on his face. Y/N lowered herself to come face to face with her daughter and kissed her on the cheek.

“Go to the kitchen, sweetie, I brought ice cream,” Y/N instructed the little one, who smiled widely and ran off towards the promised dessert. Y/N took another glance at Bucky, who was now laughing uncontrollably, looking at himself through the mirror on the wall. 

“I look like a smurf,” he smiled, looking at Y/N, who just shook her head at him. 

“And to think I married an idiot,” she said to the man who was now walking up to her. 

“You could be a smurf too, you know.” 

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, but before she could understand what he had meant, Bucky had already pressed his lips on hers, pulling her as close as he could. 

Just to make sure, she’d be stained with the blue paint as thoroughly as possible.

#bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fic #mob!bucky x reader #bucky x reader

[brigoesrahhh]

"Oh no please, call me Jonathan."

Jonathan Ohnn / The Spot x f!Reader.

Part one, Part two, Part three.

1k+ words.

Summary: You worked at Alchemax for a small part-time job. You had planned a date with someone you met online, but they didn’t show. Saddened and with the day not going great, you sat alone at your table, scrolling on your phone. That was until Dr. Ohnn, the big scientist behind the experiments at Alchemax, who was secretly dying to talk to you, sat at your table. 

A/N: the POV occasionally switches between jonathan and the reader. i hope its not confusing <3

You just got the text you’d expected from your date: 

“Sorry, I can’t make it tonight.”

You sighed and closed your eyes, resting your elbows on the small cafe table. What did you think was going to happen when you had planned the date online? Certainly not that you were going to meet the love of your life. Nope, definitely not. But you wished it was that easy. They were attractive, but canceling a date at the last minute isn’t exactly the best reflection of someone’s personality.

You looked around at the view of the cafe from your seat, taking in all of the little details in its decor. This was your favorite place to go, and the baristas knew you pretty well, immediately assuming your signature order and bringing it to your table.

“You have a date? You look nice,” she complimented, teasing you with a wink. You hummed in response, laughing a little at yourself. 

You smiled at her sadly when she wished you good luck, before she quickly ran off back to work. Today had been a busy day for the cafe, with a surprising influx of customers throughout the afternoon. She hadn’t noticed the disappointment hidden behind your kind smile.

The bell hanging from the door bounced around as more people came in, smiling and greeting each other. It had become a common sound to you at this point, and your brain began to muffle out the ringing bells and indistinct chatter. After taking a sip of your beverage, you opened your phone and started mindlessly scrolling.

~

“Mm.. hm-hm-hmm~ Quick coffee then run, quick coffee then run~” he mumbled to himself merrily as he opened the door, ringing its bell once more. He strolled in, walking straight to the counter of the cafe. His focused expression quickly changed to a calculating one, realizing the size of the lineup ahead of him. He was going to be here for longer than he thought.

He sighed, finally taking a moment to look around the cafe. Unlike you, he didn’t come here often… So he didn’t exactly expect to see you in such a rush.

And you looked good. Beautiful, truly. You appeared to be dressed for a date, with delicate makeup adorning your features and a cute dress making you look your best. He couldn't help but wonder who you were meeting and if they were in the line with him. As he continued to observe, he noticed a slight hint of nervousness in your demeanor, causing him to feel a pang of sympathy. 

His lips parted slightly at the sight, and especially the thought of you on a date that wasn't with him. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was pining over you. He would change his path to his office for you just to see your face. Sometimes he would think of you while he was doing his experiments. Hell — he would even scribble little doodles on his lab papers daydreaming about you, and then he’d have to reprint them to keep his work ‘professional’.

Growing impatient in line, he tapped the tips of his fingers together, looking in your direction. He thought for a moment. You looked unoccupied, taking a sip of your drink and scrolling on your phone. “She probably doesn’t want anyone bothering her," he thought to himself. But his urge to talk to you outweighed his anxiety.

A rare surge of confidence came over him, and he found his legs leaving the line of customers and walking over to you as his brain screamed at him not to move.

He cleared his throat, and sat in the seat in front of you. A nervous smile peaked through his lips, and you looked up from your phone in surprise. Why was such an important scientist sitting in front of you while you weren’t working? And more importantly… Why with you? 

His sudden presence made you freeze up for a second. You came back and scrambled to think of what to say, when he filled the silence.

“Hey! I was just stoppin’ by for a quick coffee and I wanted to say hi, uh-” He awkwardly extended his hand for you to shake it. “Damn it, why did I do that? This is casual, not business!” he thought.

He was relieved when you looked back up at him, smiling, and shaking his hand. Noticing a little confusion on your face made him nervous, as he obviously didn’t want to explain the whole “I have a crush on you” and that he had impulsively gotten himself sitting in front of you.

He quickly changed the subject and asked how you were doing, hoping to steer the conversation away from his moment of awkwardness. If it was any other day, you would've responded with the typical "I'm good, how are you?" But today was different.

"Kinda shit," you said bluntly, forgetting who he was and a tad surprised at your own response. Although he was worried, he was amused by your frankness. "You?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. But what's up? Did something happen?" He asked, not realizing how worried he had come off, and not really caring.

"Well," you said, trying to be as honest as possible without sounding like an ass.

"I planned a date with someone, but they didn't show." You explained briefly, a little embarrassed.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" He said, placing a hand on your arm. "They probably didn't deserve you anyway…" He mumbled, a trace of anger in his voice at how someone could make you feel bad about yourself.

 "I appreciate that," you said with a small smile. "But it's okay, I'll just move on and find someone better." You were grateful for his support, but you didn't want to dwell on the disappointment. 

 "You deserve someone who will appreciate and respect your time," he continued, offering a reassuring smile. "But hey, if you're up for it, we could grab some drinks and make the most of the night." 

Your mouth opened partially in shock, but with pleasant surprise. You grin when you see a faint blush spread over his cheeks as he realizes what he had offered.

"I'd like that Dr. Ohnn," You say grinning.

"Oh no please, call me Jonathan." He says, awkwardly.

"Okay," You say, giggling softly. He responds with a smile, his blush deepening.

As you continued chatting, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous around you, wondering if you could sense his attraction. Despite his nerves, he was grateful for the opportunity to finally catch up with you. 

#this was so much fun to write omg #i want to hug him tightly #atsv #across the spider verse #the spot #the spot x reader #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader #jonathan ohnn x f!reader

[iridescentprose]

Try again - Luca x reader insert [The Bear]

summary; in which you catch the chef smiling at you.

author's note; short but sweet fic about Luca. Just fluff. Please enjoy!

"Worse. Try again."

"Yes, chef."

It was 5:36am.

The numbers of the digital clock above you weren't moving any faster. You had been here for less than an hour and already you were being critiqued on how to properly layer strawberries on top of a crème brûlée custard.

Whatever plans you had of pleasing the chef next to you were slowly diminishing. Your hands shook with self doubt as you pricked at the red fruit, angling it so the mandala spirals could continue. You stepped back, overall pleased with what you had done.

"Better."

It was all you were going to get for now, you knew. But you took his response with pride. After all, you had made significant progress in the past week. Your shoulders relaxed, though your victory was short-lived.

"But."

You lifted a brow. "But?"

He shifted closer to you, his tattooed arm brushing up against yours, making butterflies flutter in your stomach. Your eyes remained downward, concentrated on the different doodles that littered his skin. You wondered what each stroke of ink meant and if they were drawn with intent or if they happened to be the result of a reckless decision.

Or decisions.

"You lack confidence," he said. Even though his eyes were focused on the custard, you could tell he was doing this on purpose—teasing you. The furrowed brow, the slightly scrunched up nose, and the craned neck. What gave away his concentrated act was the corner of his lips, tugged in a meaningful, if not, arrogant fashion.

Despite the heat spreading across your cheeks, you didn't take his criticism to heart. It was true. After all, Carmy set this all up for a reason. You needed the extra practice to hone in on your skill before the upcoming opening. But opening day was weeks away and you already felt too far behind to make a good impression.

"I'm exhausted," You said without thinking. It wasn't the best excuse for your lack of confidence or skill, but it was all you could muster in response. You dropped the miniature metal tongs and braced your hands on the edge of the silver cooking island.

You could hear him chuckle but you didn't bother lifting your gaze to defend yourself. A week of private training wasn't enough to increase your knowledge as quickly as you had hoped. You wanted to be good—better than good. You wanted to be the best version of yourself and you wanted others to experience that through your desserts.

"Good," he said, as you kept your gaze downwards, fixed on his shoes that were inching closer to yours. "For a second I was worried you weren't." He smirked. "Here, try again."

You lifted your head and straightened your posture as he reached across the table for the metal tongs. He handed them to you and you took them into your hand automatically, prying a strawberry that happened to be cut in half, from a small bowl.

Slowly you guided it towards the custard, though it didn't make it's final destination without a little help. In a ghostly fashion, Luca's hand loomed over yours. His rough palm settled over your knuckles — which happened to be stained with flour and vanilla extract.

He did most of the heavy lifting, using a method of confident concentration that you had been trying to master all week. Your hand shook as the strawberry reached its destination, overlaying the endless spiral masterfully.

"Slow and steady wins the race," he mumbled, his breath fanning your cheek. He gently squeezed your fingers prompting the metal tongs let go of the red fruit. "Consistency is key."

The pads of his fingertips brushed over your knuckles as he let go of your shaking hand. Smudges of strawberry paste lingered on your skin as he pulled away.

"Understand?"

You lifted your head, your eyes meeting his. He looked relaxed, if not intrigued by your bravery. A glimmer of a smile came to his lips, though it vanished before you could capture it in your mind. You shook your head free from whatever trance you were under.

"Yes, chef."

With a nod, he swiftly reached for the towel that hung off his shoulder and tossed it to you. You took it, swiping the remnants of sweet ingredients he left on your fingers from his demonstration.

You turned to look over your shoulder, finding him leaning against the metal cabinent, arms crossed and muscles tight.

He met your gaze quickly, almost as if he had been caught watching you. His slight smile diminished, and you couldn't help but shake your head in amusement.

"Again, chef?" You asked.

Testing his reflexes, you tossed the towel and he flinched, but caught it with ease as it hit his chest. A shade of red - the same pigment that stained the towel you had used to wipe your hands - was visible in his cheeks. His lips flickered upwards as he fought the playful smirk flirting with his mouth.

"Yes, chef," he mumbled, tossing the towel over his shoulder and taking his spot next to you. Naturally, his arm brushed up against yours again as he began cutting up more strawberries. "Again."

#luca x reader #luca x you #luca the bear #luca the bear x you #the bear x reader insert #the bear x reader #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #will poulter #will poulter luca #luca x y/n #luca reader insert

[inkdemonapologist]

[BatIM Cthulhu AU] A couple of doodles from session two, which UNSETTLED SAMMY A LOT ACTUALLY...

There have been small changes, throughout New York -- doors opening on the wrong side of the street, houses ending up just a block away from where you remembered them -- but the only people who can even tell seem to be those who remember Carcosa. Joey, Sammy, Henry, Jack, Peter, and Norman all experienced the strange shifting realm when a Mardi Gras party attempted to bring dread Carcosa to New Orleans, but Susie wasn't there. She can't see the changes we see, and the entire rest of the city agrees with her. That door was always there? The car was always that colour. That's where I remember the address being before, and there's no record it was ever different.

She trusts what the boys are reporting must be true, that maybe there are changes she can't see or remember, and both she and Sammy are terrified. These are only little things, but as more and more of the city slips into the world of the King in Yellow, what else might be rewritten...?

Anyway EVERYONE'S HAVING A GREAT TIME. If you're here for Out Of Context Quotes from our session, I have some of those too, here, under the cut!!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Jack] I love how detective Pete is for a guy who is NOT a detective. [Sammy] He just got assigned that by Joey Drew and now it's true. [Joey] Exactly! That's how it works.

[Sammy] The idea of JDS having its own employed detective is really funny to me. "Why do you need that? You're an animation studio." "Well, you know, things come up,"

[GM] Everybody went home I believe, except Joey went to the Studio, which is like home,

[Sammy] Do we have any plan, other than just go in to work, [Jack] I though you were gonna say "other than go insane"...

[Joey] If Prophet's not the one going for the ink, then why is Sammy going for it?! Do they have a SECOND prophet situation??? [Jack] PROPHET...... TWO!!! [Henry] Prophet 2: Electric Boogaloo [Sammy] *tiredly* We don't need any more Prophets..... We don't need any more Sammys..... we have enough.....

[Jack] You just need to sip some ink and tell them it's the wrong number. Like, you've got the wrong guy. [Henry] New stone, who dis?

[Sammy] It was the false king who called through the ink, not our Lord! [Joey] Interesting... [Joey] Joey's going to ask Bendy if he can... feel this? Is he getting calls? *dad voice* Is someone calling you? Don't put your number on the internet!

[GM] Bendy says he wasn't made to be a receiver the same way Sammy was. [Jack] So technically, it's "New Sam, who dis"!

[Joey] Okay, Joey's going to note this all down in his... Notebook Of Nonsense That Plagues Them,

[GM] I'm choosing to believe that whenever Norman called in, he gave some sort of outlandish excuse, and whoever answered the phone didn't... write it down... [Sammy] Like the heckin', grian excuses-- [Joey] "I'm cutting my grass, with scissors" [Jack] Yeah!! He's cutting his grass! With scissors! In winter!!! [Sammy] And then Sammy's like "Do we know why he called out?" and the receptionist is just like "No We Have NO Idea" [Jack] With the most tired sigh. Second only to Grant.

[GM] Fun fact, Norman would answer the phone. [Sammy] Norman actually was just like, "ohhhhhhh i know THIS is some supernatural bullshit happening, I'm gonna stay home"

[Joey] Joey's going to ask Estelle if he looked like-- and give a vague description of Avedon. [GM] .............................. [GM] She is SO impressed that you knew this. [Joey] *delighted cackling*

[Jack] I love how cute Joey is about this kid. Just like... the cool Bendy Uncle! He's not related at all, but, [Joey] I feel like this is kind of how Joey just gets around kids? Maybe Joey does really want kids, just, y'know, doesn't know how to do it when gay? [Sammy] Obviously that won't happen, so-- [Joey] Yeah, [Sammy] --so then you START AN ANIMATION STUDIO, that's the only other option! [GM] Yeah, then all kids are your kids!

[GM] Alright, you've made many phone calls. [Joey] Yeah, [GM] And you only rudely hung up on one of them!

[Sammy] Sammy can surely track that down; he's used to digging up musicians. [Jack] Jack's there to assist with the Talking to People in a way that makes them want to cooperate with you, and not run in fear!

[GM, speaking for Peter] *lists all of the information Peter's dug up* And that's about what he managed to get, today! [Joey] And nothing weird has been happening... to him? [GM] WELL, OKAY. ABOUT THAT,

[Peter] Could you describe again, the strange person who was at the party? What was that guy like? [Joey] *thinking very hard* Which... strange person...? I mean... Denis was there?

[Norman] Try not to fall in a swamp this time. [Joey] I'll let you know if I find one! [Sammy] There's fewer of those in New York, so, I think we're good. [Jack] I mean, you never know,, [Sammy] ...yeah, that's true..... [Joey] HEY, Joey will let him know if he finds one!!! [Sammy] If LAKE PONCHARTRAIN opens up in the MIDDLE OF NEW YORK CITY, that will certainly be something to let all of our friends know!

[GM] Make a social-type checks to have a word with them beforehand! [Sammy] I don't know, if I should do that,,, [GM] SAMMY can make an Appearance check! [Sammy] *laughing* LETS SEE IF IM HANDSOME ENOUGH to get let in!

[GM] Everybody's like "You guys!" You're greeted with nostalgia, and eagerness! and people are trying to small talk you, I'm guessing Sammy's not going for that. [Sammy] I mean, you can try to small talk.... AT him... [Sammy] He doesn't... y'know... it's like playing a game of catch where you throw the ball to somebody, and they just hold the ball. [Sammy] Like.... okay! [GM] I did the thing! [Sammy] Cool, catch successful. [Jack] No give, only throw!

[Sammy] Look, I was trying to drink ink this morning, so I feel like this is a step up.

[Sammy] Sammy will enjoy it! We should do this more often! [Sammy] "We should do this more often" says man who will always be too busy to do this more often,

[GM] They're impressed that, at a job where there was a gunshot right in front of the stage, the thing you want to ask about is where they sourced their music. [Sammy] I LOVE that Sammy's reputation is such that this makes perfect sense to them.

[GM] His name is Alan Leroy. [Sammy] Okay, Leroy works, because then I'll remember it, because of Leroy Jenkins. [GM] This is what's been going through my head the entire time, too...

[GM] They say he's a crazy-talented musician who blew into town a year or two ago? He's really nice and easy to get along with, and when he really gets going he can make sounds come out of his instrument like you've never heard! [Sammy] These... are all.. compliments that would be really impressive except that they can all be interpreted in really concerning ways.......

[GM] If Jack wants to look harder, he can.......... [Jack] I'm doing it, Jack can make little a bad decision! He hasn't made any yet this season!! [Jack] *rolls* That's an extreme success. How much sanity do I lose!!

[Henry] We're ghost hunters. The, the pale guy is a ghost, we're goin' after him. Ghost hunters. [Henry] ...This is why you don't let Henry lead the conversation!!

[Jack] It's occurring to me that we don't know if this guy is alive??? [Joey] YUP! This is a good time to find out! [Henry] Fun! [GM] When have you EVER gone up to somebody's house and found them dead inside? [Jack] Jack hasn't yet... [Henry] The very first scenario! [Sammy] Yeah it was a pretty bad situation as I recall, we were briefly accused of being involved! [Jack] Maybe you guys. Jack's different, though.

[Joey] We wanted to make sure he was doing alright. .....does that need a Fast Talk roll? [GM] Yeah, I was about to say-- [Joey] *rolls* *STARTS CACKLING* [GM] What did you do, do you roll a three again? [Joey] I DID ROLL A THREE! :D THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I ROLLED! [GM] I thought it was the Three Laugh!

[Henry] Henry is tired. Henry rolled a 93. [GM] Well he's out late, you know, he's a family man! He has normal hours, he hasn't been staying up late, living at the studio for the last few years! [Henry] He's regretting not accepting Joey's offer to just go home. [Joey] *muttering* See, Joey knows best!

[GM] Okay, so you guys notice, right off, that the car isn't there. [Sammy] UM. HM. [Jack] Which car did we take again? [Joey] The Mercedes... [Jack] *relieved* Okay good. [Jack] .... I MEAN, NOT GOOD, BUT...

[Joey] No, no I think it's OUR car... it's just... more yellow now... [Jack] I don't like that that means it's getting yellower... [Joey] ...........................So when do we take the sanity hit? [GM] Yeah, that would be now!

[GM] The woman says she's looking forward to when he has his own ship, and they can sail away together! [Henry] [Henry] ...I'm married,...

[Joey] Joey has his face pressed to the window-- no, he probably has the window down, it doesn't matter how cold it is -- and... CAN the window go down? Hold on. [Joey] *sounds of typing* "Car... door... window... down... history... when."

[Henry] Okay, these dice are BANNED. I rolled a 90! [Jack] What if you subtly replace the dice...? [Sammy] With slighty yellower dice!

[Joey] OKAY! There ARE rolling windows, so Joey does have the window rolled down, and he's intensely watching the colour of the car. [Joey] AND ALSO, he's STILL sitting in the middle seat, he's just going to lean over someone to do this. [Sammy] Ah. It's probably me.

[Jack] No, no, Pete and Jack can get kidnapped later and take some massive sanity damage together. ✨Cute date ideas!✨

[Joey] Joey's going to inform Norman that they're going to come over, they need additional eyes on something, [GM] Well, he's good at keeping eyes on things! [Joey] So they'll be over soon. [Sammy] I like how Norman gets a heads up, but with Peter we just show up at his apartment. [Joey] Exactly! [Jack] That's because Joey's kissed Pete. When Joey and Norman kiss then that's -- not good for Sammy, probably. [GM] At least Pete and Sammy are neutral. Non-reactive. [Sammy] Norman and Sammy are "it's complicated" on Facebook.

[Sammy] Okay, we gotta go get Linda, so Susie's not alone, [Jack] We're just playing "how many NPCs can we force Thren to play at once!" How many can we shove in the back of this car.

[Jack] Jack's gonna get home and find out his cats are different colours, [Sammy] Oh NO, [Jack] Comes back and Beans is a tortie now. [Sammy] Or Beans is just an orange cat, [Jack] Oh no! Her braincells! [GM] She needs those! She has all of them!!

[Joey] Depending on who's the affected party, Susie or them, it is actually useful to have a second, like, [Sammy] Someone to compare with? Yeah. [Henry] We don't know WHO the control group is, but ONE of us is the control group!

[Joey] As trusted as Norman is, he isn't one of Joey's... white-knuckle-clutched-keepsakes of a person,

[Sammy] *sarcastic* Okay, everyone ready to go to sleep? That's not a scary prospect right now, right? That's something that we're all really confident about doing? Cool, that's great. [Henry] Yeah, yeah, that's definitely not gonna, it's gonna go great...! [GM] Nobody's even cut their hand on a slick stone! It's fine! [Henry] NO ONE BETTER CUT THEIR HAND ON A SLICK STONE! We got enough problems!! [Joey] (Looking at you, Prophet!)

[Henry] Is Joey,,, sharing this plan with anyone? [Joey] ouo Has anyone asked him?

[Joey] Let's send Henry then! [Henry] Alright. Send Henry to Carcosa! [Sammy] *exasperated* yeah that's fine.... [Joey] It's not FULLY sending him there! It's just making a connection. [Joey] A little bridge! [Sammy] Uggghhhh... Sammy doesn't think we need any bridges to Carcosa. [Sammy] We've got enough Carcosa. [Sammy] Put some back.

[Sammy] This is what happens When You Give a Joey a Dream Spell.

[Sammy] We can't actually guarantee that New York isn't going to sink. That's not out of the question. [Jack] Is the Joey Drew specialty NOT "promising things that aren't necessarily things you can promise??"

[Henry] Actually, before Henry leaves he's going to give Joey a hug. [Joey] He doesn't get to leave. [Henry] Oh. [Joey] But Joey will take the hug!

[Henry] You know this man gives good hugs. You're getting a good Henry hug. [Jack] Gonna crunch all of Joey's terrible, very bad bones. [Henry] He's gonnna try not to crunch all of Joey's terrible bones! [Henry] But, I dunno. [Henry] Roll for damage.

[GM] The lurker knows this is serious, but he's also excited, because he has heard what a slumber party is from Henry's kids.

[GM] Now it is Friday, the 28th of December. [Sammy] Okay. Cool. Let's all make an effort to not ring in the New Year in Carcosa. That's MY New Year's Resolution: Don't Be In Carcosa.

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #susie campbell #sammy x susie #norman polk #joey drew #when in doubt just keep drawing #quote post #theres no reason for dramatic lighting the cthulhu doodles have just become my Attempt To Figure Out Clip Studio practices lmao #i stuck a cap on sammy forever ago while pondering winter outfits #and it was so cute on him that now it might just have to be canon

[cloudcountry]

breaking the mold

Genre/Tropes: Mutual Pining if you squint very hard.

Summary: Vil has always been cast as the villain. With a new writer working with his club, he learns that not every director will see him that way.

Author's Comments: I wrote something similar to this for another character that was normally portrayed as a villain (2p!America cough cough) so it was kinda funny writing something like this again but I really enjoyed it!! Also, in Epel's SSR vignettes this club apparently doesn't have auditions? Vil just picks someone and is like "you're good" so I put Reader in that same role.

~~~~~

“For our next play, I’ve opted to let our newest member write it. They’ve proven themselves efficient at directing the stage crew and have shown me various samples of their writing.” Vil announced, locking eyes with you from in front of the small crowd of club members, “Come to the front, director!”

Murmurs swept through the crowd as you jumped up, rushing towards his side with a huge smile on your face. Vil looked upon your smiling face with pride, confident that he’d made the right choice. It only made you more motivated to please him.

“A new member? Writing for us?” someone muttered from the group, “That’s unheard of.”

“You must push boundaries to progress.” Vil responded, “I’ve made my choice. I only hope the rest of you are willing to give them a chance.”

“I won’t let you down!” you proclaimed, standing even straighter in hopes that the club would accept you.

“Let’s try it out. What’s the worst that could happen?” someone else said, “Besides, Vil will still be overseeing everything, Nothing will go wrong!”

Another murmur swept through the crowd as people started to nod. Vil turned to you with a small nod, and you knew exactly what he was trying to say.

They don’t believe you can do it by yourself. Prove them wrong.

👑

The next day, Vil walked into the small room the club had set aside for you. The table was cluttered with papers and pencils, and in the middle of it was you, writing down one last note before you looked up at him and beamed.

“So, how’s the cast list coming along?” he asked, trying to make sense of the messy writing scrawled over the papers nearest to him.

“I’m so glad you asked! I’m planning on casting you as the main character, of course.” you hummed, pouring over the script on the table, “I want to start off my first play with a bang, but you’re also the safest option because of your experience.”

Vil watched you work, scribbling down notes for the plot and little details you wanted added to the set. The passion and personalization you were giving to this production was admirable. Vil often had to remind his fellow club members to do exactly what you were doing when directing productions and designing sets. All of the actors and crew should be represented in their own special ways when on stage.

“Just so you know, I refuse to play a villain role. If you opted to play me in that role, perish the thought. I refuse.” he declared, pulling out the chair opposite of you and sitting down.

He was prepared for a barrage of complaints and reassurance. He was prepared for ‘but you’d do so well!’ and ‘it’s a great opportunity!’ and ‘what do you mean? Do it for the play!’ His agent’s voice echoed in his ears as he waited for your response, and he shook her away.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the villain. Not every hero is warm and soft, you know?” you laughed, shaking your head, “Heroes can be cool and tough too. If I wanted to write something with a wimpy hero I wouldn’t be casting you in the first place.”

You passed him the list of characters from across the table, pointing to the bright HERO title with stars doodled around it. His name was written in your all too familiar handwriting, a little smile stretching across the bottom of his name that used the two i’s as eyes.

“If this is your verdict, I’ll respect it.” he nodded, passing back to list.

“Oh, but you wouldn’t have if you were the villain?’ you snorted playfully, “I’m just kidding. I’m not here to write something cliche and stupid. I’m here to explore a side to heroes that the productions we’ve seen so far don’t want us to see.”

“Elaborate.” he said, lacing his fingers together on top of the table.

“All of the productions I’ve seen in Twisted Wonderland portray heroes as happy and soft and sweet. But heroes need to be smart and strong and resilient, you know? I don’t understand why people think those attributes are more villain-like. It’s like they want their heroes to be joyful and handsome instead of genuinely strong.” you met his gaze and beamed, “Not that you aren’t handsome. Obviously. You know how good looking you are.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Vil rolled his eyes, gesturing for you to continue.

“Right, right. I’ll keep talking, Your Highness.” you snickered, scribbling a few more notes down on the character page, “I actually cast Rook as the villain this time around. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to share the stage with you. Also, doesn’t he have that dramatic villain vibe about him? I figured he’d be able to play the tyrannical king role pretty well.”

“You’re definitely right about that.” Vil nodded, lifting up the set design from your pile of papers, “Is there a particular reason why you chose the mirror to be here, in the corner?”

“Ooooh, I’m so glad you asked!” you nearly leapt across the table to look at the diagram with him, your hand resting on his arm for support, “You see, the tyrannical king ends up trapped in the mirror at the end of the play. I wanted to pay homage to the Evil Queen and her magic mirror while also giving the impression that the king’s punishment is a result of finally being cornered. He spends so much of the play in the middle of the stage, but once the hero and his allies find him he gets backed into that corner with no escape! He’s hidden away from the audience’s view and then the lights go out and boom! He’s trapped in the mirror for all eternity!”

“It’s very hard to come up with an original story, so I don’t blame you for referencing the Evil Queen.” Vil hummed thoughtfully, “However, are you sure the mirror design is your best work? If it’s truly a symbol to pay homage to the Evil Queen, will the audience get that message from this design?”

He handed the design back to you, watching as you poured over it. Your pursed lips slowly lifted into a smile as you jolted back into your chair, scribbling away at the paper once again.

“I got it now! This next one will be the one that knocks your socks off!” you proclaimed, waggling your pencil at him.

“I look forward to it.” he chuckled, leaning over to pat your head before leaving the room with a swish of his cloak.

You shot up in your chair, brushing a hand over where he had touched your hair. He really did know exactly how to motivate people, didn’t he?

👑

“Why did you cast Vil as the hero?” Epel asked, tilting his head as he read through the cast list.

“He’d be a lovely hero. That’s why.” you replied, waiting for the rest of the cast and crew to read over the list.

“That’s…an odd choice.” someone else piped up, “I mean, Vil is more suited to be a villain, you know?”

The group mumbled in agreement, nodding their heads. You furrowed your brow, holding back the twinge of annoyance in your chest.

“Do you want to have a play with a hero that’s soft and gentle? Or do you want a hero that’s tough and reliable? Do you want someone who only focuses on the princess, or a hero that rallies people together? Do you want a hero that nobody cares much about because they’re so vapid and uninteresting, or do you want a hero that everyone will remember because he’s the one that sent chills down their spine?!” you narrowed your eyes as the club listened, allowing you to explain yourself, “Vil is perfect for a hero role. It’s a disgrace that nobody has cast him in that role before.”

The room was silent for a moment before Epel sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

“If that’s what our director thinks, then I agree. They’re pretty convincing too, when they want to be.”

“Thank you, Epel.” your gaze softened as you relaxed, making sure to make eye contact with as many people as you could, “I’m willing to hear your input on this, but I’m not going to put Vil in a role that I think would be ill-suited for him.”

“I think Rook as the villain is a good casting choice.” Someone offered, “We’ve never seen him in a role like that before, but seeing you make that decision has made me curious.”

“Yeah! I know he’s in the science club, but there’s no way he’d pass up a chance to perform with Vil.” you nodded enthusiastically.

“He has no qualms about getting people not in his club to participate.” Epel mumbled, “I miss Spelldrive practice for one of his plays once…if I missed the play he would’ve killed me.”

“You were our main role, Epel. Our leading star. The play would have been ruined if you didn’t show up.” Vil replied, stepping into the room with grandeur.

“Housewarden!” Epel yelped, “How long were you there?”

“Don’t yell. I’ve been here the whole time.” his eyes flickered to yours, gratitude in his eyes, “I heard your discussion about the roles. I’m glad we’re all in agreement.”

“I’ll run them by Rook later.” you shot up out of your seat, gathering your papers quickly, “I still have to finalize that mirror design, and then I’ll show you that too. Let me know what you think!”

“Wait.” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, eyes only for you as everyone else filed out, “I want you to stay back for a moment.”

“Hmm? What for?” you asked.

“I want to talk to you. That’s all. Do I need a reason?” he replied, a challenge clear in his tone.

“Of course not, handsome.” you laughed, sitting back down, “What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to show you my gratitude.” he began, sitting in the chair beside you, “You have been the only person that has bothered to take my thoughts into consideration. It’s such a simple thing, but since you are the first to show me such thoughtfulness, I feel the need to let you know the impression you’ve made on me.”

“It’s no big deal at all! I just did what I thought would fit you best.” you stumbled over your words, face warming at the praise.

Since when did Vil praise you for silly things like that?!

Amused by your reaction, he laughed. How was one man so pretty? His hair fell into his eyes before he brushed it away, meeting your gaze again. You swallowed thickly, nerves twisting in your stomach.

“I trust you will do your best.” he said, hands clasped in his lap, “I believe in you.”

With that said, he left, leaving your mouth hanging open in shock.

If Vil Schoenheit wanted you to focus, he’d need to stop praising you like that.

👑

The day of the play was fast approaching as you watched over the rehearsals. The costumes had come together a while ago and the set had been built completely. The paint crew was still touching up on little details of the castle and mirror, each golden swirl and apple motif painted with extra care. Some of the club members that had worked on the set even picked up a paintbrush for the production. It warmed your heart to see everyone try so hard for the sake of you and your production. Even Epel came in to work hard when he didn’t have Spelldrive practice, his painted apples shining more radiantly than anyone else’s. Before you knew it, the show was being performed for any NRC students that wanted to attend. You extended personal invitations to all of your friends, making sure Malleus in particular had the date memorized so he could see your vision come to life. Cater had spammed his Magicam feed with promotional posters for the show, and Vil had also done some advertising to a lesser extent. The nerves were starting to settle in as you watched the people file into the theater, the low rumbling of conversation making your stomach do flips. Pacing around, you took deep breaths as your heart pounded. Today was the day of your debut as a director for Vil Schoenheit and the entire Film research Club. You only hoped you could do him and the rest of his club justice.

“You’re up.” Vil said from behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder, “I know you’re nervous, but you’re ready for this. I would not let you walk out on that stage if I didn’t think you were one hundred percent ready.”

“Thank you, Vil.” you smiled, hands shaking as they took the mic from the nearby stand, “I’ll…I’ll go break a leg out there.”

His eyes shone with affection as he offered you a smile, gently pushing you into the bright lights of the stage.

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the new lighting, a chorus of cheers and whoops erupting from the crowd. Your stomach twisted itself into an even bigger knot as the darkened blurs wriggled and twitched with movement, but you reminded yourself of Vil’s words and breathed deeply.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight!” you said, putting the biggest smile you could on your face.

The sentiment was met with another round of applause and a loud yell of “THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND,” which you could only assume came from Ace.

“Thank you, thank you! Um…” you clutched the microphone tightly as the applause died down, taking in another deep breath, “This is my first time producing a play with the film research club. Being a director has been hectic, but it has also been very rewarding. As you all know, I got to work with the amazing Vil Schoenheit on this project-”

An even bigger applause erupted from the crowd at the mention of his name, to which you responded by looking backstage for him. He was standing just behind the curtain, a smile on his face as he listened.

“I know, I adore him too. He spent hours and hours with me, pushing me to do my best on set design and costumes and storytelling. He wanted me to make this play personal, and because of that, there are bits of him in the story, too.” you stopped to take a breath, the audience silent as you continued, “Thank you all for coming out tonight to support the work we do. Without further ado, I present to you, Poison’s Heir!”

The audience burst into applause again as you rushed off stage, waving to everyone that had come to watch your show.

“You did so well.” Vil whispered as the lights dimmed, “Now go take a breather. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Break a leg.” you whispered back, beaming at him.

👑

The second the auditorium doors were opened after everyone had taken their final bow, you were jumped on by Ace, Deuce, and Grim. A strangled yelp escaped your throat as you begged them to let you go, but they refused.

“You never told me you wrote in your spare time!” Ace yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “I can’t believe you wrote something like that and didn’t tell us! What is wrong with you?!”

“It was really good, Prefect.” Deuce said, looking at you with stars in his eyes, “I’m so impressed, it must have taken so much work to build everything.”

“That’s why you kept sneaking off! That’s why you had all those late nights! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Grim grabbed your leg and shook it vigorously.

“I wanted it to be a surprise!” you yelped, shaking them off, “I’m surprised you guys even came!”

“Of course we did! You always come to my basketball games and I know you go to Deuce’s track meets too! Don’t act like it’s a burden for us to show up!” Ace crossed his arms over his chest and glared, pouting like a child.

“Hello, Child of Man.” Malleus interrupted, appearing behind you unexpectedly, “That was a lovely production.”

“Hornton!” you jumped, placing a hand over your heart, “You scared me! Don’t just teleport behind people like that!”

“But I didn’t.” he mumbled, a confused look on his face, “I just walked up to you.”

“Ah. My bad. I was occupied.” you sighed, smiling at him, “I’m glad you liked it!”

“I brought you this.” he hummed, presenting you with a bundle of orange roses, “I was told by Lilia that directors and cast members of plays often receive flowers after a play as a show of appreciation. He stressed that I should not give them to you before the play, since I would be bestowing bad luck upon you.”

“Dude, we so got one upped!” Ace quipped, but you ignored him.

“Aww, thank you so much.” you gasped, gratefully accepting the flowers from his arms, “They’re beautiful. I’ll be sure to treasure them for as long as they live.”

“Don’t worry, Child of Man. I’ve enchanted them so that they will not die.” he smirked, “You don't even have to water them. Those flowers will remain stationary, halted in time, just like the memory of your first production in my mind.”

You almost cried with how moved you were, but settled for giving him a huge hug. He returned it, holding your gently before he gave you a final smile and moved on.

The next person to throw themselves on you was none other than Cater.

“Hon!” Cater screeched, throwing his arms around you dramatically, “Oh, that was a gorgeous production! I wish I could have recorded it!”

“Thank you so much!” you laughed, wrapping your free arm around him to hug him back.

“Would you mind taking a picture with me? I’d absolutely love a photo of the director themself!” he begged, hands itching to grab his phone and take as many pictures as possible.

“Of course you can.” you pulled away, putting on another one of your director smiles.

Cater whipped out his phone and took a bunch of quick pictures, trying out a few different angles. You felt your crowd pleasing smile grow into a genuine one as your face warmed, feeling all the love all of your friends were sending to you.

“You don’t mind if I post these to Magicam, right?” he asked.

“You ask every time Cater. My answer is always no. I don’t mind at all!” you laughed, thankful he’d go through the effort of checking every time.

“I just want to be sure! I’ll send you the ones I want to post just so you can go through them.” he said, pulling you in for one last hug, “Great job, hon. I’m so proud of you.”

The crowds slowly died down as time went on, and the club was finally allowed the step back into the auditorium. That’s where you found Vil, standing by the doorway in his costume.

“I was waiting for you.” he said, hooking his arm through yours and pulling you away from the group, “Come with me.”

You allowed him to lead you outside into the cool night air. He sat down on a nearby bench and gestured for you to do the same.

“So how many flowers did you get?” you asked, still clutching the orange roses to your chest.

“I received many flowers from adoring fans.” he said matter of factly, “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“What is it?” you asked, scooting closer.

“Magicam. The production is blowing up.” he murmured, unlocking his phone and pulling up his Magicam feed.

You watched as he scrolled through post after post of happy, celebratory photos, all tagged with #Poison’sHeir. Your heart warmed at the display and the fact that Vil had taken the time to show it to you.

“I dare say your first show was a success. I’m looking forward to the next one you direct.” he chuckled, expression soft and caring, “I’d love to work with you again.”

Pride welled up in your chest at his words, the knowledge that this would not be your last show and that you’d impressed him enough to earn his praise forcing a wobbly smile to bloom across your face.

“Wait…Vil, is that Neige?” you gasped, the laughter catching in your throat as the moment was shattered.

His nose wrinkled in displeasure as he rapidly scrolled away from the post.

“Don’t pay attention to him-”

“Noooo, Vil! I wanted to see his post!”

“Stop trying to take my phone-!”

#auburn's fics <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit fluff #neige leblanche on his way to steal vil's love interest #thats a joke #maybe #depends on who you like more ig

[dreamhot]

book project 2: electric boogaloo

hey folks, in light of the need for some positivity, we (that is to say, ro, lost, and i) have decided to rally together to make yet another book - this one for the dteam as a group!

the goal is to compile little messages (think of what you might write on a whiteboard - encouragement, a hello, appreciation, whatever else) and send them to the PO box for the whole dteam to enjoy :] there's no real overarching theme this time, since this is meant to be a fairly open expression of support/gratitude/etc.

our hope is that people will direct their messages to the entire dteam, but there will be an opportunity to write individual messages as well. that section might end up more limited, as we want to dedicate the most space toward the group sentiments. we'll do our best to accommodate what we can, however.

we also have other plans for supplementary layout items, but we're still working on the details for that. stay tuned, since there might be an opportunity to provide small doodles to the project!

we're planning on keeping the form open for a week (until august 11th, 11:59pm est) or until we hit a set limit of responses - we just want to keep the amount manageable. we may also have to close the form in the event of griefing, but we'll find workarounds if that happens. we want as many people to be able to contribute as possible, which is also why we've got a word limit this time 😘

the link to the form is here !

remember, please submit any entries by august 11th, 11:59pm est. if we need to close it before then, i'll make a post announcing it. reblogs will stay on for now unless it becomes necessary to turn them off.

NOTE: this is a project for dtblr!! we would prefer if this does Not get shared on twitter. twitter mains are ofc welcome to contribute, but please respect that we'd like to keep it primarily for this side of the fandom :] we appreciate your understanding!

thank you in advance! let's make something nice !!!

#smile.txt #the first book made a real impact on dream (CONFIRMED !!) #so it would be amazing to do that again #twwtr

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Chapter 1/?: Step 1- Shameless Flirting

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-worked. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came it Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

I’m just in love with Larissa Weems and a silly bitch. I hope you enjoy ✨🦐

Chapter 2

Cross posted to AO3 Here

HTWAHP Masterlist

——————————————————————————

“Just because I like older women does not mean I’m a homewrecker.”

“Huh, interesting.”

“You’re telling me you’ve known me for three months now and this whole time you thought I was out here waiting to ruin a marriage?”

“In my defence-“

“I can’t believe this, I thought we were friends Kingston. Now I have to rethink everything.” You sighed, dramatically.

“You’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.” He chuckles.

You slap him with your cloth, scoffing at his comment before going back to cleaning the coffee machine.

You had been in Jericho for a total of three and a half months. It was a quaint little town, a bit hyper-focused on their pilgrim ancestry but not the worst small town you’d experienced. You had been working at the Weathervane since you’d arrived, enjoying the routine it provided and the socializing. That was where you had met James Kingston (A British man disguised as a regular person in your professional opinion. I mean what kind of name is James Kingston anyway?). The two of you had become fast friends, partly due to the work you did and partly because he found you hilarious and you found him tolerable. (this is a lie, you love him dearly.)

Working as a barista meant you got to know most of the residents of Jericho quite quickly. Some you found infinitely more interesting than others.

“Oh look its your lady crush.” James comments, wheezing when you whip around from what you were doing to stare out the window.

“Shut up, I just- I respect a woman in power that’s all.”

“Oh I’m sure its all respect in that filthy brain of yours when you think of her.”

“Fuck off.” You laughed, hurrying to the register when you saw her coming through the door.

“Good morning miss Weems.” You greeted, doing your best to shut your heart up and give her a relatively normal smile.

“How many times have I told you to call me Larissa darling.” She smiles, much to the chagrin of your heart-calming plans.

“She’s a bit slow this one.” James jokes, earning him a swift kick on the shin.

“Your usual, Larissa?” You ask.

She nods, chuckling at the two of you before moving to sit at one of the booths. Larissa came around often enough, usually in the mornings, you assumed before the academy day officially started. Sometimes she’d come around after dropping one of the students at Dr Kinbotts. You lived for the times she stopped by, almost always kicking James off the register if he was stationed there just to talk to her. So yes, you had a massive crush on the woman. But honestly? Who could blame you? She was a goddess among you mere mortals and you were simply relishing in her heavenly presence when you could.

Christ, you were a useless gay.

You finished making her usual, quickly doodling a small flower next to her name before taking it to her. You place it down on the table with a flourish, bowing dramatically.

“Your coffee my fair lady.”

She chuckles, shaking her head at your antics before standing, coffee in hand.

“Thank you, y/n. You always make my mornings delightful.” She hums, squeezing your arm as she leaves.

You watch as she goes, a dreamy smile on your face, before proudly strutting back behind the counter. James giggles at you earning him yet another smack with the towel.

The rest of your day is pretty mundane. Dr Kinbott stops by at around 12 for her usual. The sheriff comes around and gets an Americano to go (You suspect he’s actually just checking on Tyler.) Throughout the day you’re giddy thanks to Larissa. You often find yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to see her more often. You think perhaps you might actually implode if she were to ever have more than a two-minute conversation with you. You finish up the day with Tyler, letting him leave before closing up. All in all, a regular day in Jericho.

You were working your regular Saturday shift when Larissa arrived, looking rather upset. She placed her order and sat down at a booth, pulling out her laptop and getting to work. You made sure to put a little extra sugar in her coffee and grabbed one of the choc chip cookies before bringing it to her. You placed it down on her table, earning a mumbled thanks as she picked up the coffee. It took her a moment to notice the cookie, but when she did she glanced up at you questioningly.

“It’s on the house. You look like you’re having a shitty day so I thought you could use a little something to make your day a bit better.” You smiled, clasping your hands behind your back.

“You really are too kind to me,” she mumbled, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Pffft, Nah. You deserve it.” You brushed her off. You took a moment before speaking again. “I know we don’t know each other that well but uh if you want to talk I’m here. And I can give brilliant commentary, no advice though, I’d probably encourage murder or something equally illegal.”

She laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. You think her laugh might be one of your favourite sounds.

“That’s very sweet, but aren’t you busy with your work?” she asks.

At that, you throw your apron off and over your shoulder and sit down across from her.

“Galpin’s pretty competent, plus he owes me one anyway. So spill.”

She considers you for a moment, before heaving a sigh.

“The academy is receiving a new student next week.” She starts. “Which under usual circumstances would be fantastic, however, this student happens to be the daughter of… an ex-paramour of mine.” She mumbles, almost drawing in on herself.

“Did they do something awful that made you break up with them?” you ask.

“No actually, uh she broke up with me…for the man that is now her husband.”

You stare at her for a moment, mouth agape.

“You’re telling me someone chose to walk away from you? But you’re- I mean you’re gorgeous and smart and- was she blind?? Was she dumb?? I mean obviously, she was but… what.”

She chuckles at your outburst, cheeks flushing slightly.

“Yes, well, they seem very happy together. And I’m sure she’ll rub that in my face in some offhand way. And she’ll make jokes about me marrying my job because ‘no one else would want me’ which I-I mean it’s not- that’s not why I’m so devoted to the school!”

“She sounds like a bitch.” You comment, “I can throw hot coffee at her if that’ll make you feel better?”

“You’re very sweet but that’s assault darling.”

“I’d literally kill a man for you no questions asked, assault is nothing.”

She chuckles, swatting at your arm before sighing again and dropping her head into her hands.

“Well, look, I don’t know who your ex is, the stupid bitch, but you have become a talented, successful, absolutely gorgeous woman. So, no matter what happened between you or what she does whenever you see her, know that she’s just a jealous, silly old hag who could never be half as brilliant as you are.”

She stares at you at that, her eyes bright. You wait for her to say something, feeling yourself get more nervous the longer she stays silent. You play with your fingers, thinking perhaps you went too far and have now fucked any and all chances of having even a friendship with this gorgeous woman.

You stand up, pull your apron back on and do your best not to overthink every word you’ve said.

“Uhm, sorry, have-have a great day Larissa.” You mumble turning to walk away.

Suddenly she grabs your wrist, stopping you and turning you around. She stands up, towering over you. She looks down at you, a dazzling smile on her face. And then, by the gods, she bends down and presses a kiss to your cheek, and hot fucking damn you almost spontaneously combust on the spot. You stare up at her, awestruck and definitely blushing madly.

“Thank you, y/n” she smiles. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

And with that, she squeezes your wrist, giving you a dazzling smile and leasing the coffee shop. You watch after her like a lovesick puppy, heart racing.

You’re absolutely whipped for this woman.

Larissa didn’t come around for the next few days. But you knew she was a busy woman, she had things to do. You definitely weren’t considering changing your name and fleeing the country thinking she now didn’t want to see your face again after what you said and her thanking you was just because she felt awkward. Definitely not.

You found yourself glancing out the window every five minutes or perking up whenever the bell above the door would ring, only to deflate when it wasn’t Larissa walking in. You were busy wiping down one of the tables when James appeared at your side.

“My bestie in Christ, you know I love you, but you currently look like an abandoned puppy.”

“I do not,” you scoff.

“Sure, sure... Oh hey, Larissa!”

You whip around faster than you’ve ever moved in your life, coming face to face with an empty doorway. You scowl as you hear James wheeze next to you.

“Don’t forget we work with hot coffee. And accidents happen, Kingston.”

He laughs at your threat, patting your shoulder as he heads back to the counter. You continue working for a while before James pipes up again.

“Oh damn. Good morning miss Weems.”

“That’s it, give me the boiling water I’m giving you the wicked witch of the west treatment.”

“Now why would you be burning your friend at the mention of my name?” a velvet voice speaks from behind you.

You spin around on the spot, gaping at the woman behind you. There she stands, all tall and gorgeous and dreamy. You feel yourself blushing as you try to stand straighter and lean on the table you were cleaning. Unfortunately, you did such a great job that you slip and all but fall on your ass. You’re tempted once again to throw boiling water on James as he cackles at you. Larissa, the kind goddess she is, rushes over and offers you a hand.

When she pulls you up you realize you greatly underestimated how close she would be as you’re now toe to toe with her, staring up at her, cheeks aflame. She smiles down at you, her hand still holding yours as her other arm settles on your waist. You’re barely breathing at this point and then she has the audacity to flash you the cutest smile.

You take your chance to take her in up close, knowing you’ll probably never get this close to the goddess ever again. You notice the crow’s feet at the edge of her eyes and the slight bags under them she tried to hide with makeup. You also notice she smells absolutely fucking divine, you can’t quite pinpoint what it is but it suits her so well. You know you’re staring and you should stop, but you can’t help it.

“You should be more careful, sweetheart.” She murmurs, her eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t want my favourite barista getting hurt.”

You’re still gaping at her, your brain turned to mush at the way she spoke, low and velvety. You open your mouth to speak but can’t seem to find anything clever to say, for once. Something she takes full advantage of.

“What’s wrong darling? Cat got your tongue?” she whispers, and oh god is she getting closer? She looks closer.

You’re startled back into the waking world when James accidentally drops something, the loud clanging making you jump back from the woman in front of you, heart racing and body flushed. Larissa drops her hands from their hold on you, stepping back slightly. You internally whimper at the loss of her touch and then immediately internally scold yourself for being so uselessly gay.

“So uh, how-how has everything been? I haven’t uh seen you around lately.” You commented, sliding behind the counter and getting started on her drink.

“It’s certainly been an eventful few days, to say the least.“ she sighed, leaning onto the counter.

“Well, you were dearly missed at our humble café.” You remark, placing her drink in front of her.

She chuckles at that taking a sip of her drink before letting out a relaxed sigh.

“God I could’ve used this yesterday.”

“The drink or my riveting conversation?” you joke.

“Perhaps both.” She hums.

“Well, I mean we could always deliver to your office on the days you can’t get here.” James offers, grinning at you.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble-” Larissa starts.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble at all. Isn’t that right?” he comments elbowing you suggestively.

“Oh! No of course it would- I would be honoured- I mean it would be my pleasure Larissa really.” You manage, giddy at the prospect of delivering her coffee every day.

“Really you don’t have to go through any extra fuss for me we have coffee at Nevermore so I-“

“You’re worth the fuss though.” You say, and then immediately want to shoot yourself for speaking aloud.

Silence falls between the three of you, Larissa looking shocked, James at a loss and you mentally preparing what to put on your tombstone. It’s a while before Larissa speaks.

“Well, when you put it like that how can I say no hm?”

“So, I get to deliver you coffee every day?” you grin, tapping the counter a few times in excitement.

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart. You can bring it to my office, I’ll expect you before nine.” She hums, turning to leave.

“Yes ma’am! I won’t let you down” you respond, giving her a mock salute.

She chuckles, waving at you and waits a fucking second did she just fucking wink at you?? Oh, Jesus on skates your life just keeps getting better and better. As soon as she’s outside and gone from view you all but squeal, throwing yourself at James.

#wlw #larissa weems #principal weems #wednesday #larissa weems x reader #principal weems x reader #larissa weems x you #HTWAHP

[sen-ya]

You’ve drawn a little of it before, but what do you think Law and Luffy would be like as parents?

HOO BOY AH I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ABOUT THIS

First and foremost law is absolutely smitten and takes to parenthood naturally. It’d be a little harder for Luffy I think depending on how young the kid is when said kid is Acquired. I think he’d really hit his stride after toddler-dom

I think both of them would talk to their kid like any adult pretty early, like in an age appropriate way but like if a question is asked it gets a real answer, if something’s going on they get an age appropriate description of it, a lot of the time they talk to them like pals. Idk if that makes sense but yknow

Luffy is fun parent yes but also is Emotionally Intelligent parent and ends up kind of unknowingly giving them a lot of tools early on for how to cope with big feelings. Low key watching Luffy teach a small human how to human helps Law see where and how he can grow emotionally and he becomes a better communicator.

They sing to them before bed every night when they’re little. Luffy is terrible. Law sounds really pretty. It’s a lot of fun.

I know languages in One Piece are like the equivalent of “everyone speaks common” but I like to think most islands have their own language of some sort. That’s all to say Law talks to their kid in Flevian and it just kind of spills out of him. At first it’s only when he’s alone with them, but then it becomes an absent-minded habit. This is how Luffy learns that Law even still knows Flevian. Their kid would end up fluent, and Luffy would try his darndest but really only be able to pick up a few phrases here and there.

Also in a wild turn of events after the initial anxiety of being a new parent evens out Law just kinda…..relaxes. Later in life he’d already been getting on board with Luffy’s antics, but now that there’s also a second person bouncing about with any of Luffy’s sensibilities it really is just easier to let it happen. He gets comfortable with knowing he can plan on the fly, and knowing that is a plan in itself.

When the kid is older and off on their own any time they all come back together as a family it is ON SIGHT with Luffy. This kid’s first order of business is “try to absolutely DEMOLISH my pops.” Law learns to be strategic with where they have their family meet ups, but sometimes it just happens that you’re minding your own business and then these two Monkeys are throwing hands and laughing their asses off

For family name they’d let the kid pick. In the case of the daughter they have in the one lil comic i posted Law swears they asked her when she was too young cuz she couldn’t say “Trafalgar” properly and he never lets it go

Honestly i could keep going but i will shut up and give u some doodles to finish it off

#holdyourbreathfornow #my art #my asks #lawlu #law x luffy #luffy x law #lulaw #THANKS SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK I COULD TALK FOR AGES AND AGES ABOUT THESE TWO RAISING A HUMAN TOGETHER

[hanafubukki]

Fake dating with Sebek where it starts with Lilia and Malleus wanting to give him a little push into a new experience, so they tell him that they won't allow him to attend 'x' event with Malleus unless he is courting someone by/during that time. They don't even plan on enforcing it- of course they'll bring him with no matter what.

And Sebek is flip-flopping because he'll throw a tantrum to go with no matter what and why should he get a date just in order to join his liege? But at the same time, it's this very liege who is asking him to find a date and he doesn't want to disappoint him. And it's the latter that wins out- sort of. He approaches you to fake court him. Of course it won't be real, it is simply to appease his master and make HIM happy. He's all smiles when he reports to Malleus and Lilia that he has found someone to court and give them your name when they ask who. But wanting to tease him some, they tell him they look forward to seeing the two of you be coupley. Which makes him panic slightly. He didn't think he'd actually have to- to SHOW them. It should be fine if you take the lead, right? You can fawn over him while he still focuses on Malleus. And that's how it kind of turns out- you let him stay himself while you play the part of the loving girlfriend, which became more and more real the longer it went on. You started seeing different sides of Sebek, finding out more of how his thought process worked- and he was unconsciously gravitating towards you as well. He'd hold the door open for you without realizing it. Instead of walking away once HE'S done talking, he'd wait for you to finish so you could depart together. It'd become natural to sit next to you at lunch instead of you pretending to pout and ask why he wasn't sitting next to his girlfriend.

Sebek didn't notice these changes, though. So when the day of 'x' event came, he went over the plan with you again. This was the last day of being 'together'. If questioned, you'd say it was a mutual decision to break it off. That you just weren't right for each other. He went into the event with you on his arm, and he left without you. The next morning he woke up, ready to being the day like any other from before the fake dating happened. It should be no problem. He hadn't been committed, it wasn't a real relationship- he had nothing to recover from. But things felt off regardless. He found himself making a comment and looking to his side to see if you'd heard him, but you weren't there. Of course you weren't. He'd sit down for lunch but not eat, and when asked why he'd automatically respond that he doesn't eat until you have sat down as well (Lilia reminds him that you won't be there. You broke up, after all). He goes to bed at his usual time, but it feels too early as he had gotten used to having a small conversation before you'd leave his room to back to ramshackle. He started missing you. Your smiles, your comments and opinions, when you'd lift your snack to his lips to he could have a bite, the conflict of whether to feel insulted or embarrassed when you'd give him the occasional doodle you drew of him and Malleus together, or just himself. The reliable presence he would stand by whenever you shared a class together, getting to show you his impressive skills, having to pull you out of the way of something so you don't trip...

You're both back to where you were before, but it doesn't feel better.

…Anonie!! Come back!! You can’t do this to me. I was grinning happily at the cute antics and then you left it there!!

I woke up to this and was reading this expecting a cute ending or something but you ended it there 😭😭

It would be Malleus and Lilia who would mess with Sebek like this wouldn’t it? Sebek would take it to heart and try his best 🥹 and something tells me they know that it was planned, but can see him fall for you. And now are waiting to see him realize it too and get you back 🥹😭 (Lilia is taking bets I tell you 😂)

The way he would open the door for you, wait for you, sit next to you, and then he wouldn’t eat until you came!!!

Him just so used to your presence.

Sebek out here being the best husband 🥹💞💚

ANONIE COME BACK, don’t leave me like this 😭💔

#answered #Anonie ask #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #🌷others fics🌷

[yrthr]

☾ PERFECT PLAN ? ; PARK GUNWOOK

gunwook masterlist / zb1 masterlist ; wc 0.76k

➛ genre / trope ; shy cofident ➛ warnings ; cursing , mentions of food

“ PLEASE. “

“ no. “

“ PRETTY PLEASE ? “

“ no. “

yuqi shook your arm back and forth using her whiny baby voice while you gave her a judgemental yet unimpressed look.

she pouted , letting out a small puff of frustration as she laid her head on your shoulder.

“ i’m not that mean , plus i’m waiting for him to make the first move. “

“ yeah by the time he does we’d might as well marry each other and have kids. “

you looked down at her , “ i’m down. “

the bell rung. the end of recess.

yuqi chuckled sitting back up straight and putting both of her hands on your shoulders , giving you her best serious face that she could muster up.

although that just made her look like an angry cat.

“ my dear child , i might separate from you once again to enter the gates of hell which you may know as chemistry. i trust thou will know what to do when the time comes. “

yuqi gave your shoulder a firm hard pat before picking up her things and leaving your classroom with a ‘ cya ‘

“ … what the fuck yuqi. “

after she left it got you thinking… should you carry out this elaborate yet stupid plan.

both you and yuqi were aware that the class president , and seat-mate , gunwook had a massive crush on you.

to be fair , he wasn’t very good at hiding it.

it started from casual talk when you became seat-mates then texting , passing notes and cute doodles during class , copying his homework , him borrowing your items , you borrowing his jacket to sleep on. [ he tried to discourage you from this activity but he couldn’t help but take this chance to admire your features as you slept. ]

overtime you noticed the small little details such as him blushing whenever you accidentally brushed fingers or the frequent glances he’d give you.

this was confirmed when another one of your friends , gyuvin , asked gunwook in which he went on a full tangent on his small [ big ] crush on you.

you easily fell for the class president too , just that you were way better that hiding it.

after weighing the pros and cons you decided to go through with the plan , after-all the worse thing that could happen is embarrassing yourself and having to drop out of school to not show your face in school again.

plan recap : ask who is crush is , he wouldn’t say who it is , you reveal it , confess and he confesses and boom. easy.

you took a deep breath mentally preparing yourself for the incoming events. which just on queue , the wooden doors slid open revealing the man himself.

“ hey ! you didn’t go to the cafeteria today soo i got you a small snack. “

gunwook pulled out a egg and mayo sandwich , offering it to you.

you smiled thanking him placing the sandwich on your desk.

“ also i have to ask you something. “

“ yeah ? “

“ do you have a crush ? “

you saw his eyes slightly widen and the way his shoulders tensed up a bit. a small blush coated his puffy cheeks and he started fiddling with his fingers.

‘ he’s more shy than i’d thought he’d be ‘ you thought , fighting the urge to giggle.

“ yeah , its you. “

gunwook looked at you with a sudden surge of confidence , he maintained eye contact his body now leaned back onto the chair with his arms crossed. [ although the blush still remains on his face ]

that.. did not go according to plan.

“ wait wait do you not feel the same way ? oh shit i’m so sorry ! gyuvin told me to just say it whenever the day comes but like oh my god why did i listen to the guy ?! “

“ no ! i… do feel the same way it’s just , wow , i didn’t expect you to be so straightforward. “

his face instantly relaxed as he let out a few embarrassed yet amused chuckles.

“ so… you like me too ? “ he asked all smily and giggly seemingly unable to revert back to a resting face.

“ was it not obvious ? actually yours was way obvious. “

“ no it wasn’t , i hid it well. “

“ oh please the whole school probably knew “

the playful banter continued and underneath the tables his hands reached for yours , intertwining them in a perfect fit.

“ OH MY GOD LOOK GYUVIN THEY’RE HOLDING HANDS ! THEY’RE— “

“ JESUS SHUT UP YUQI THE HALLWAY ISN’T SOUNDPROOF. “

“ SHUT UP LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT. “

“ ITS THEIR MOMENT ? YOU’RE JUST CREEPILY STARING AT THEM FROM THE WINDOW. “

“ YOU’RE DOING THE SAME ? “

divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

©️ yrthr 2023

#zb1 #zb1 fluff #zb1 drabbles #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fics #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone #boys planet imagines #boys planet scenarios #park gunwook #zerobaseone gunwook #gunwook imagines #kim gyuvin #zb1 reactions #zb1work

[simp-for-fictional-hotties]

Writing One shot: Lucifer Morningstar ★

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

⋆ ★ Character: Lucifer Morningstar

⋆ ★ Fandom: Hazbin hotel

⋆ ★ Plot: Lucifer x Artist!Reader

⋆ ★ Requests: Open

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Part 1.

Read Part 2 here:

✦ The only thing that you ever cared about was making art. Not the person screaming for help while getting stabbed at a park you always visited to draw the landscape and animals. Not the time where you saw a person hanging on for dear life on a tall building from a failed parkour stunt, yelling for someone to save him, obviously you didn’t, you were too busy drawing his expression.

✦ Maybe those types of actions are what made you go to hell instead of heaven..

✦ But now that you are in hell, there is a whole new world of things to draw, paint, sculpt, doodle ect!

✦ You never were actually the murder type, or violent, not even cannibalistic. All you wanted to do was create art. That was your passion. Even if it meant being a bystander who simply didn’t care enough for others.

✦ You drew many things in hell, landscapes, animals, people, scenes that you saw happen before your eyes.

✦ You even had a power, every Sinner was born with some power, most small some big. You were lucky enough to have a decent power. You called it, the power of creation. And you used your power many times.

✦ Though your no Overlord, atleast you never tried to be, you still lived in hell pretty well.

✦ Your day was just like any other, outside drawing a scene happening in front of you, a group of mobsters beating up a lanky Sinner out on the street.

✦ When you heard a familiar voice.

✦ “Oh Y/n! I haven’t seen you in ages, still drawing I see?”

✦ Alastor greeted with a smile, a smile of which never left his face, is he actually happy to see you or is he just faking it. Who knows? Not like you care.

✦ “what a stupid question..”

✦ Your eyes never left the canvas and mob scene in front of you, not bothering to greet the Radio demon or give him a proper answer. Though, it doesn’t seem you need to since he already knew the answer.

✦ “You must be wondering where I have been all this time, Hm?”

✦ He questions with a radio tune in his voice. Which you simply hum to, only half listening. Noticing the half present state you were in with him, he smiles a little less, only a little. “I see that you are busy, as always. I was just wondering about telling you something you might be interested in…”

✦ The radio Overlord purposely trailed off, becoming more pleased upon seeing your eyes finally move his way instead of the art you’re always indulging in.

✦ “Interested in…?” You knew when Alastor says a sentence like that, he’s serious and never disappoints.

✦ Alastor waves you off in dismissal, “Oh never mind, you’re much too busy with your current drawing. Maybe some other time in the future” his smile grows when you take the bait.

✦ “Just tell me already, who knows when ‘the future’ will actually show up.” He now had your full attention, stopping your hand from drawing any more. Alastor leans against his radio staff.

✦ “I’m working on a project with a certain someone that I know you would love to be apart in” he says with confidence.

✦ You raise a brow at him, even the thought of him with a business partner sounded off, who knows what the actual project is. “Well? Tell me.”

✦”let’s just say it’s a hotel for Sinners looking to be saved, someone came up with that idea, you know… A certain someone’s daughter.. a daughter who’s the princess of hell~”

✦ You, a person normally uncaring and composed, perked up at his words.

✦ A hotel of redemption, planned by the princess of hell….meaning she was the daughter of…

✦ “Lucifer’s daughter?”

✦ Alastor chuckled at the rare sight of the normally emotionless Sinner.

✦ “Yes my dear, Lucifer.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Part 1 end.

#hazbin alastor #x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #reader #one shot #short story #part 1 #writing #writer #fanfic #fanfiction #hobby #alastor #Lucifer #fictional character #art #fanart

[accio-sriracha]

Wolfstar and Markers.

~~~♤~~~

Sirius likes to draw on his friends.

It's just something he does when he's bored in class.

He writes Property of Sirius on each of them. Sometimes abreviating it to P.O.S. for the double meaning.

He draws little cupcakes and pieces of cheese on Peter's hand.

He loves to draw golden snitches and broomsitcks across James' thigh during the summer, charming them to fly around.

But, rather ironically, it was Remus who usually sat next to him.

It was an exceptionally boring day in history of magic class, they were all waiting for the lesson to end as Professor Binns droned on about the Great Goblin War.

Sirius pulled the marker out of his bag, grabbing Remus' arm without waiting for permission.

Despite pretending to be annoyed each time, Remus stayed carefully still.

A little too still.

He literally spent a good portion of the time Sirius was drawing on him not breathing.

It was secretly his favorite part of the day.

He loved the feeling of Sirius' fingers skating across his skin.

He loved watching his concentrated expression from the corner of his eyes.

He loved the way Sirius took his time, careful not to mess it up.

How Sirius always told him he wasn't allowed to wash it off.

He never did, keeping it until the end of the day.

He pretended to hate it but each time he felt himself falling a little deeper in love with his best friend.

Sirius moved on from drawing moons and stars to drawing hearts at some point during their fifth year.

It was literally all he would ever draw on Remus now.

He kept the same drawings on the others, quidditch themed for Prongs and various snacks for Wormy.

But always hearts on Remus.

Remus couldn't figure out why, but the tiny detail made his own heart flutter faster every time.

He wondered what caused the switch, wondered if it was as significant as he was making it out to be in his head.

One day, while Sirius was doodling on Remus' hand, James asked him,

"Why the hearts, mate?"

It was pure bored curiosity, there wasn't any real interest in his eyes when he said it.

But Sirius looked up, and his answer made Remus' entire brain malfunction.

"I'm waiting for Remus to ask me to be his boyfriend. This is about as obvious as I can get before I decide to ask him myself."

And then he just-

Went back to his doodling.

As if nothing even happened.

As if that wasn't the single most earthshattering thing Remus had ever heard in his life.

As if that wasn't something Remus had been dreaming of doing for years.

Remus could feel the shock on his face.

He could tell he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding any of the emotions swirling through him.

Did Sirius know then? This whole time had he secretly known how much Remus enjoyed their little moments together?

"Moons?" Sirius whispered.

Remus hadn't realised how long it had been since they stopped talking.

Sirius was staring at him, a small flicker of uncertainty passed over him, like he was realising there was a possibility he was wrong,

"You okay?" He asked.

"Can you hand me that marker?" Remus replied instead.

Sirius' eyes went wide for a fraction of a second before he nodded, passing it to Remus.

Remus reached out for Sirius' hand, Sirius gave it to him without hesitation.

He drew a single shaky heart, adrenaline pumping through him.

"Yes." He whispered, "I do want to be your boyfriend."

And that was it.

They've been together ever since.

Sirius loves to tell people the story of how they fell in love.

He always pays specific attention to the part where Remus sat shocked into stillness for fifteen minutes before Sirius finally asked if he was okay.

Remus proposed around Christmas, they were gathered at the Potter's home, watching baby Harry stumble around as he tried to walk.

Sirius and Remus were sitting on the sofa, Peter sat on the ground, holding his arms out for Harry, and Lily and James stood by the kitchen, watching them all with a smile.

Remus had told the others his plan already and they thought it was amazing.

"Hey Pads?" He whispered, kissing the top of his head.

Sirius hummed and leaned in closer to him.

"Can you go grab me a marker? I think I saw one on the counter earlier."

Sirius paused and leaned away, giving him a curious look, "A marker?" He repeated. Remus nodded,

"Yeah, I think it was in the kitchen."

Sirius shrugged and stood up, walking over to the counter to find the black sharpie Remus had placed there earlier.

He sat back down, passing it over, "What's this for?"

"Give me your hand." Remus whispered.

The others went silent, watching them quietly.

Remus could feel adrenaline shooting through him, just like the last time he'd done this.

He carefully drew a heart on Sirius' hand, big enough to reach from one side to the other.

Sirius smiled, "I didn't think you still remembered. It's been years since I've talked about that."

Remus nodded quietly, lifting his hand up so Sirius couldn't see what he was writing.

Sirius watched him, impatiently waiting until Remus let him see.

Inside the heart was now four words, written in Remus' neat cursive,

"Will you marry me?"

Sirius looked up so suddenly it caught Remus by surprise.

He threw his arms around him, burying his face into his shoulder,

"Yes." He breathed, "Of course I want to marry you, Moons."

They kissed, teary eyed and holding each other close.

The others ran to them immediatley, pulling them into hugs and shouting congratulations.

Sirius told that story for an even longer amount of time.

If you look carefully enough, you'll still find a black marker in every room of their home.

Every note they leave for each other are always signed by these, and always with a small heart at the bottom in place of a signature.

Sirius still draws little hearts on him when he's bored sometimes.

And it's still Remus' favorite part of his day.

~~~♤~~~

#harry potter #marauders #marauders era #wolfstar #wolfstar headcanon #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius black #sirius x remus #sirius loves remus #remus loves sirius #wolfstar textpost #wolfstar fluff #theyre so cute #ill never shut up #i love them