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buckysgrace · 3 months

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13. The Last Time

Part Thirteen to Every Little Thing!

CW: No smut but drunk!Gator lol

Then

Marseille was different from what Daphne had expected. The girls she’d been traveling with insisted it was dangerous, that they would have a rough time their whole stay. It wasn’t like the other parts of France that she had visited, but she didn’t think it was that dangerous either.

She met Hugh at a bar, her sorrows drowning out the feeling of loneliness as loud music blared around her. She’d slowly been trying to work up the courage to make her way up to the karaoke spot, but each time a new person went up she sank lower and lower into her seat.

“What do you think?” He asked her, his accent thick and heavy as he pushed something towards her. She felt her eyes widen, slightly surprised by how attractive he was. His hair was dark with messy curls on top of his head. He had a strong jawline that she was still able to make out from the thick stubble across his cheeks.

Her heart lurched inside of her chest for the first time in a long time. She didn’t feel the same way she had felt when she looked at Gator, but she thought it was similar enough. The stranger was handsome. He didn’t share Gator’s looks, but he did have matching dark hair and hazel eyes.

“Huh?” She glanced towards him curiously, leaning a little closer so she could hear him better. She blinked, realizing he was pointing towards the napkin on the bar, “Oh, is this me?” She was surprised as she looked down at the sketch, a flush beginning to spread across her cheeks. The lines were thick and jumbled, but she could clearly tell that it was her.

“Is it alright?” He asked her, his lips curling into the gentlest smile as he watched her expression. She nodded her head quickly, really flattered at his actions. It was perhaps the most creative way she’d been flirted with since she’d been here.

“Yeah,” She grinned as she looked up towards him, her cheeks hot, “Thank you. It’s really pretty.” She smiled as she pushed her back towards him, her stomach flipping at the way their fingertips barely pressed against one another.

She learned that his name was Hugh and his family had nothing to do with him. He didn’t mention why and she didn’t press for too many details. She liked the way he spoke, how it was rough and raspy and how he’d sometimes have to pause to think of the word he was looking for. He was a struggling artist, but he had thought about getting into Biology for the longest time. He had ultimately decided against it, claiming that it wasn't his dream.

She kissed him back at his apartment that night, pretending his lips were a softer shade of pink and his skin was smooth and clean shaven. She thought that his hair could feel similar to Gator’s when he didn’t slick it back, though it wasn’t as thick. She didn't feel as lonely with his hands on her waist and his tongue in her mouth. She suddenly felt alive, even if her chest was swarming with guilt as she thought of Gator.

“Wait,” Hugh stopped them before it got too far, breaking them apart roughly, “Not yet. I just- I want to get to know you first.” He reasoned and she was more than happy to go along with that reason. She hadn’t slept with anyone but Gator and she really wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. She agreed with taking it easy, thinking that it would give her a real reason to clear her head.

Things were easy between the two of them. Hugh liked to listen to her and even more he liked to try and help her solve her problems. She was sure that he thought he knew her like the back of his hand, but he was very wrong. She didn’t think he knew her at all. She didn’t want him to know her, not really. She was ashamed of a lot of things but mostly she worried that if she scratched the wound open again, everything would come rushing out in a bloody stream. It would be like she never really moved on.

She liked to write in her free time. She wasn’t good at writing stories or journaling, but she wasn’t too bad at poetry and lyrics. It just frustrated her. By the end of her sessions, all she could think about was Gator and what she thought was their lost love. She was sure that he wasn’t even thinking about her right now. It just made her feel all alone all over again. She wasn't sure if she would ever rid of the feeling, even with Hugh at her side.

“They’re just silly lyrics,” She shook her head in panic one afternoon that Hugh had stumbled across them, reaching her hand out again in hopes that he’d hand the journal back, “It’s nothing.” She brushed off the way he had his eyebrow raised, like he was really analyzing what she was saying.

“These are really good.” He took her by surprise, grinning as he looked over his shoulder. She bit her lip, trying to keep her excitement at bay.

“You’re just saying that.” She brushed him off, thinking of the way Bruce had told her that she had been wasting her time. She just did this for fun. It wasn’t anything serious. She knew that it never would be.

“No, I mean it,” He replied as he smiled towards her, “I really like these. Who is this guy you speak of?” He questioned her, tilting his head as the smile suddenly fell from her face. She felt a bitter feeling forming deep inside of her stomach. She didn’t want to be reminded of Gator and she certainly didn’t want to speak of him to Hugh.

“It’s just a fantasy,” She said softly, her heart suddenly raw and sore as she glanced away, “No one.” She brushed him off, shrugging her shoulders as she closed the book and hid it away once again.

//////////////////////////

“You know,” Ruby paused softly over the phone one sunny afternoon. Daphne was sitting outside on the balcony, breathing in the fresh sea air after her shift at the bookstore, “He still asks about you.” She brought up slowly, making Daphne’s heart shrink in size.

Despite it being so long, two years now, it still hurt her. She had moved in with Hugh since then. They were comfortable, still going slow and trying to adjust to one another. Sometimes he felt like more of a roommate than a boyfriend, but he was sweet. He pushed her towards her dreams and supported her when she needed it.

“I gotta go,” Daphne said quickly, her heart hammering roughly inside of her chest, “I’m taking a few cooking classes, you know, branching out a bit.” She told her mom, lying about what she would be doing after this. She was sure that she would just collapse on her bed and try to erase the memory of Gator. She stopped, noticing that her hand was resting over her stomach again.

“Oh, why waste all that money when you could come back home and I could teach you for free?” Ruby asked her seriously, sighing deeply like she didn’t understand. Ruby had been more supportive than Bruce had been.

“It’s different food than you make,” Daphne teased her softly, “I miss you.” She told her truthfully, still not believing that it had been so long since she’d felt her mother’s arms around her. She missed her hugs, her cookies and the way she made hot chocolate when Daphne was sick.

“When are you coming home?” Ruby asked her softly, her voice sounding raw again. Daphne always hated this part. She felt like she was hurting more people than just herself at this point.

“Soon,” Daphne promised as she brushed her thumb across her bottom lip, “I just have to figure a few things out.” She mumbled, watching the way her fingertips drew soft circles over her empty stomach.

“What things?” Ruby questioned, “You know, my mom told me it was never good to run from my problems.” She pointed out, sounding a little stern but also playful. Daphne had listened to many stories about her grandmother’s sayings before.

“I don’t have any problems,” Daphne shook her head as she brushed her fingertips through Birdie's fur once he jumped up on her lap, “I just want to explore a little bit.” She said at last, breathing in deeply through her nose.

They said their goodbyes, taking a little bit longer than usual this time around. She was a little saddened for sometime, realizing just how deeply she missed her mother as she continued to give Birdie pets. He purred in response, curling deeper into her chest.

“Was that your mom?” Hugh peeped his head out, a tint of blue on his cheeks as he looked towards her. She sniffled and nodded her head quickly.

“Yeah,” Daphne smiled, “She’s worried, as usual.” She laughed softly, brushing off any concern that he might have.

“What does she think of me?” He asked her suddenly, taking her completely by surprise. She felt her jaw go slack as she quickly tried to think of the response.

“Oh,” Daphne paused for a moment, “She loves you. You know, she can’t wait to meet you.” She lied rapidly, blushing as she realized she hadn’t said much about Hugh at all. The little that she had said, she could tell that they weren’t fans of him.

“Really?” He asked, looking a little hopeful as he spoke. She tried not to hide into her chair, knowing that he probably appreciated it from the lack of communication from his own family.

“Oh yeah,” She nodded her head quickly, “She just thinks you’re incredible.” She told him softly, trying not to think of the way her parents raved about Gator. They still kept her updated. He was a deputy sheriff now and she wondered if he thought about her at all.

/////////////////////

She found a picture of them one afternoon, surprising even herself as she was sure she had left them all behind. Her heart ached as she held it up, looking at the way she fit easily into his lap. It was one that she’d taken on her phone, a selfie from a day of swimming at the crick. She could make out their matching tattoos in this picture.

“Where are you?” Hugh’s voice rang out from their tiny apartment, making her jolt in surprise as she quickly fumbled the picture frame.

“Oh, uh,” She paused as she shuffled the photo into the bottom of her underwear drawer, “Just sorting through some things.” She replied awkwardly, her voice a little shrill as she quickly tried to shut the drawer. She winced, pain erupting through her fingertips as she slammed her fingers in the wood. She yelped, yanking them free as she tried to jerk the pain out before Hugh entered the room.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Hugh shifted awkwardly as he looked down at her, one eyebrow raised at the way she was fumbling with her hands, “I mean, do you want to go out for dinner?”

“Oh,” She looked at him, taken aback before she nodded her head in agreement, “Yeah. Of course.” She grinned, feeling a little casual about the whole ordeal.

She dressed nicely, wearing her prettiest blue dress as he took her to a fancier restaurant than normal. She was surprised, unsure of how he’d be able to afford it but she kept those comments to herself. She was just glad that he was treating her so sweetly.

Dinner was nice, but she could tell that something was wrong by the way he kept drifting off. He didn’t even appear nervous, just like he was distracted by something else. Her smile continued to grow stiffer by the end of the night as she was unsure of what he wanted. Yet he still paid for everything, even managed to get her favorite dessert from the bakery that was always busy and sold out.

“Daphne,” He breathed out softly after he drank the rest of his wine, cleaning out the entire bottle, “Will you marry me?” He said it a little louder than she was prepared for, her eyes widening at the amount of people that turned in their direction in interest.

She suddenly felt rushed from being accidentally put on the spot. She felt her body warming, flushing clear down to her toes as she tried to think of a way to go about this. There was no easy way, just one solution.

“Yes.” She answered quickly, her eyes wide with surprise at her own words as she pictured someone else asking her.

Now

Things had moved so fast. She wasn’t planning on rushing the wedding or doing it overnight, but she also wasn’t sure what to say to deny it.

Something had gone wrong with Hugh’s visitation papers. They’d tried to work it out together, but it was clear he wasn’t getting the three months that he was allotted. He was going to get deported. It felt like her hands were tied behind her back. She had tried to argue at first, but when he had begun to question her on why it mattered she froze.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do it, she just thought that she’d have more time to clear out her jumbled mind and conflicted feelings. Hugh didn’t make her feel the same way that Gator did. She knew that without a doubt.

“Are you all set?” She asked Hugh softly, fiddling with his tie as his bag sat on the counter ready to go. He nodded his head, his fingers twitching a little nervously as he looked down at her.

“I think so,” He said softly, “It can’t be that bad, can it?” He asked her, looking a little panicked as she felt a smile form on her lips. Bruce was mad, but he wouldn’t do anything that dumb.

“No,” She told him truthfully, “It’s a guy's trip. They’re just going to, you know, fish and other stuff. Watch out for the hooks.” She teased him, brushing her fingertips across the place where he’d been stabbed.

“Right,” He grinned as he leaned down to peck her lips, “You’ll be alright here?” He looked a little worried, like she might be afraid of being on her own. She was glad for it. She wanted a good cry from her last conversation with Gator. He’d cut her deep.

She spent the night in her most comfortable pajamas, enjoying a glass of lemonade on her own after she ate a whole frozen pizza to herself. She tried to distract herself by rewatching the Princess Diaries movies, but it didn’t matter. She kept thinking of Gator.

A sound from upstairs made her jolt. She paused, confirming that Birdie was next to her before she settled back into her seat. She reminded herself that this was a new house, that the floorboards were still adjusting.

By the second loud sound she knew that she had to investigate. She crept up the stairs slowly, gripping a crow bar that had been left in the unfinished dining room. She moved slowly, her heart hammering roughly in her chest as she peeped into the bedroom.

She paused, dropping the crowbar as she quickly crossed the room, noticing how the window was partially opened and how the body was stuck between the glass.

“Gator?” She looked at him in shock, quickly pushing the window open as he stumbled through head first, “Shoot. What are you doing?” She asked him harshly, feeling angry at the way he just thought he could come into her house. She was angry. She meant that she didn’t want to see him again. He was mean to her.

“Seeing you,” He slurred, “Is that okay, or is your husband here?” She opened her mouth, about to tell him where Hugh was before she stopped herself. She didn’t owe him anything. Not after what he’d said about her.

“You’re drunk,” She told him softly, wincing at the loud way his boots hit the floor, “I thought you didn’t care?” She asked him seriously, picking up his boots so she could shove him out of her house.

“You said that first.” He said harshly as he pointed to her, staggering closer as his eyes glazed over in hurt. She looked at him surprised, wondering where he came up with that idea.

“I never said-,” She started to protest, shaking her head in defense of herself.

“You did,” Gator spit out, fire in his eyes as he peered at her in disbelief, “You left. You left me. Just like everyone else.” He said as he began to laugh, the whiskey rolling off of his tongue and smacking her in the face.

“Gator,” She exhaled sharply, her features relaxing as she took in what he was meaning, “I didn’t mean for it to be like that.” She said honestly, her chest aching at the realization of what he must’ve thought when she was gone. She didn’t want it to be like that. She didn’t want to be compared to his mom who had just up and left him. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, because he was right in a way. She had left.

“It was like that,” He said with a small laugh, “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t contact me. It was like you were a ghost, a memory.” He held his hands out as he spoke, gesturing towards her in amusement. She met his eyes, noticing the glazed pain that was swirling inside of them. She sighed deeply, understanding that he’d probably been drinking for the longest time.

“I’m sorry,” She replied gently, truly meaning her words as she looked up at him. She paused, reaching her arms out slowly to hold onto his biceps to steady him, “I -, I really didn’t think you’d care.” She told him honestly, but was beginning to wonder if that was just her being selfish. “Why would I not care?” He shook his head, nearly too fast as he stumbled a little closer to her, “You mean everything to me.” She shivered, trying to remind herself that he wasn’t in his right state of mind at the moment. He probably wasn’t being serious. She wasn’t sure if she could handle his drunken confessions.

“You didn’t want anything serious, remember?” She reminded him softly, watching the way he jolted away from her and held his head back in frustration, “No. I gave you my heart and you said you were too young. You didn’t want that yet. I wasn’t going to wait for you to change your mind.”

“So you just leave?” He blinked roughly, his eyes looking a smidge red, “Like those other worthless bitches?” He spat out, venom in his voice as he continued to stumble about and bump into her. His words still slightly hurt, but she understood where he was coming from this time around.

“If you’re going to be an ass again, you can leave,” She said at last, not wanting to fight with him again. She was too tired to deal with the screaming, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She said honestly, but clearly knew now just how badly it must’ve been for him. She felt awful, worse than she had before.

“You left to clear your head, I get it now,” He looked at her, leaning forward fast enough that his usual slicked back hair fell onto his forehead, “You’re selfish. Everything is about you.” He pointed at her again, this time his finger brushed against her shoulder. She looked down at where they touched before she shook her head. He had no idea what she had gone through. At one point she had felt like she lost everything. She was still partially in that mindset.

“That’s not fair,” She responded, her heart thumping harshly against her ribcage. Her bottom lip wobbled, “I was going to tell you. I just needed-,” She held her hands out, unsure of how to explain it. She hated that she felt like she was peeling the layer of her heart back, exposing where it hurt to him. She didn’t even know how to explain it herself.

“To run.” He finished for her, his eyes still fiery like he was challenging her to disagree. She felt on the spot suddenly, not liking how it was all suddenly her fault. She had done things wrong, but he hadn’t been completely innocent either.

“Gator,” She drew in a soft breath, “If you feel that way about me, maybe you should just go. I can’t do this right now.” She told him seriously, determined that he wouldn’t see her cry tonight. She had a feeling he might mock her for it.

“What?” He looked at her, his lips curling into a wide smile as he laughed, “Too busy with your husband? Seems like you’re having a nice wedding night.” He continued to laugh, like it was funny as he stumbled back against the bed.

“Why did you come here?” She spit out in anger, shoving at his chest so she could get him out of her room. He stumbled back a few steps, instantly making her reach out to grab him again by the way he nearly tripped over his feet.

He laughed, falling forward as he wrapped his arms around her. His chin brushed against her forehead as he roughly rubbed his hands across her shoulders. She breathed in deeply, sighing at the way his lips began to drag against her skin.

“Missed you,” He mumbled, “It has been a long time since I saw you.” He breathed out, as if they hadn’t just seen each other yesterday. She took a shaky breath, tilting her head away as he tried to bring his lips down upon hers. He kissed along her cheek instead, all messy and sloppy as his nose bumped against her skin.

“You’re drunk,” She told him softly, shushing him as he quickly tried to protest, “You need to go home. I can’t see you right now.” She told him honestly, figuring that he would just be worse if he was around her. He clearly wasn’t happy with her. She didn’t think she could handle a whole night of him yelling at her.

“I don’t want to,” He responded quickly, whining as she slowly began to drag him down the hallway, “I wanna stay.” He pulled away, knocking his fist back against the bare walls harshly. He winced, rubbing at the skin as she tried to balance him again.

Her frustration was beginning to grow, she could feel a headache forming as she tried to think of the best way to approach him. She opened her mouth to speak, only to notice the way he was suddenly growing pale. She quickly grabbed his hand, ushering him towards the bathroom in haste.

They made it just in time. He roughly fell to his knees, the sound echoing in the house as he bent over the toilet and emptied his stomach. She winced, patting at his back and looking away as it took everything in her to keep from gagging.

When he was finished he sat back against the wall, wiping at his mouth as she moved to quickly flush the evidence away. She frowned, kneeling next to him as she moved a few strands of hair from his forehead. She rubbed at his cheek, her heart hammering as she watched the dazed look that filled his eyes. She felt bad, awful. She really had left him.

“Here,” She mumbled softly, slowly beginning to strip his messy shirt off of his shoulders, “You’re messy.” She said gently, watching the way his brown eyes fluttered up towards her. She ignored the way her heart was hammering as she gently took his hands in hers and helped him stand on his feet.

“I don’t feel good.” He groaned softly, moving towards her as she squeezed at his hips softly. She moved around him, quickly turning on the water so it could warm up for him. He teetered back and forth, his chest hair brushing against her arm as he did so. “You drank too much,” She confirmed before she began to unbuckle his belt, “A shower will help.” She tried to reassure him as she let his pants fall to the floor. She gave him a warning look as she pulled his boxers down next, ignoring the sly whistle that fell from his lips.

She struggled for a moment, wincing as he gripped the top of her head to balance himself as she pulled his pants, boxers and socks free from his body. She sat up, kicking his dirty clothes away before she unpackaged one of the new toothbrushes she’d just bought. She put a line of toothpaste on it, hoping to make his mouth taste better.

“Come in with me,” He said softly as he gripped her wrist, “Please.” She looked up towards him, nodding softly in agreement. She didn’t speak it outloud, but she didn’t plan on leaving him on his own anyways. She was too afraid she’d find him passed out if she left.

“Okay,” She said softly, nodding gently as she held onto him so he could clamber into the tub. She paused, feeling like this wasn’t the best idea. If Hugh happened to come back for whatever reason at this time, there would be no explaining why she was showering with Gator, “Scoot over.” She told him, deciding that she’d deal with that later as she stripped out of her pjs.

“What have you been doing?” He mumbled as he turned towards her, standing straight under the shower head so the water was racing down his head. She tried not to laugh as she reached out of the curtain to grab the tooth brush that she had set up.

“Watching movies with Birdie,” She mumbled softly as she began to scrub at his teeth. He protested at first, before ultimately giving in as she gently scrubbed at his teeth and then his tongue and the roof of his mouth, “Were you out partying or just partying by yourself?” She teased him as she cleaned the brush with the shower water. She watched as he spit into the drain before he answered her.

“A bit of both,” He admitted, “I would’ve preferred if you were there.” She nodded along softly as she washed the gel from his hair, unsure of how to handle him when he was being so vulnerable. It wasn’t a sight that she was used to.

She gently hummed along, watching the way his eyes fluttered as she dragged her fingertips through his scalp. He swayed back and forth, lingering against the stream of water. She thought a lot of what he had said to her, the good and the bad. She felt guilty above everything else. She didn’t want to leave him the same way his mom had. She didn’t like being compared to Linda.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” She laughed softly, shivering as a gust of cold air hit her. She didn’t mind that much though, thinking that Gator looked cute as he let the warm water pound against his back, “I don’t think I can carry you back to bed.” She told him softly, placing a gently kiss against his shoulder as he moved to rest against her.

“Tired,” He mumbled against her skin. She rubbed at his skin softly, unsure if it was water or drool that was leaking against her shoulder, “Really tired.” He said dreamily as he held onto her, his fingers loosely pressing against her skin.

“Are you done showering?” He nodded his head lamely, stumbling again like his knees might buckle. She moved her hands to his face, pulling him away gently to confirm that his eyes were shut, “Hey, let’s go sleep in the bed. It’s more comfortable than here.” She told him seriously, knowing there was no way she’d get him off the floor again if he went down. Not while he was like this.

Gator was far too out of it to do much more than lean against the shower wall. She wrapped her hair in a towel, then her body before she began to shimmy a free towel around his wet skin. She scrubbed softly, smiling at the way his eyes continued to flutter shut. She reminded herself to get him some water before he officially laid down.

She felt bad as she wrapped a towel around his waist. She’d have to put him in a pair of Hugh’s clothes, as it didn’t feel right dressing him in his dirty outfit. She quickly dressed herself, not bothering to brush her hair out as she helped him stumble back through the hallway.

Hugh’s shirt was slightly baggy on Gator, but she figured it would keep him from freezing. He didn’t seem to notice whose it was regardless as he continued to observe her, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion and a need to sleep.

“Here,” She crouched down on the floor in front of him, “Lift up your foot.” She commanded softly, patting against his right leg gently. She gazed over his knees, noticing that they were indeed red from how hard he hit the floor. He reacted instantly to her touch, moving his leg nearly too high as she began to place a pair of Hugh’s old pj pants on him.

She held onto his hands, gently helping him stand before she pulled the pants up over his waist. They were still a size too big and he laughed at the way they began to slide down as soon as he plopped back onto the bed.

“Drink this,” She said softly, handing him her tumbler of water, “Feel any better?” She asked him, pushing his hair back softly as he brought the cold water up to his lips. He took big gulps, large enough that part of the water slid out of the corner of his lips.

She quickly wiped it from the corner of his mouth, not caring about his drool as she wiped it onto her pants. He leaned forward, burying his face in her chest for a moment before he groaned deeply. She glanced around in panic, wishing she had brought a trash can in with her.

“I think she would’ve looked like you.” He mumbled into her skin as he gently brought his hands up to her waist. He held onto her, inhaling deeply as she slowly moved her hands onto his shoulders.

“Huh?” She looked down at him curiously and then wiped away the water from his skin that she had missed the first time. He blinked up at her, his eyes swimming with sorrow. Her heart hammered harshly inside of her chest.

“Our baby.”

“Oh.” She replied, unable to think of anything else to say as her hands suddenly felt too heavy. She still wasn’t sure how to approach this topic. She had spent so long burying her own feelings and heartache that she still wasn’t sure how to speak about it. She was surprised that Gator was bringing her up. She wondered if he thought about what could’ve been the same way she did.

“Did you have a name picked out?” He asked her softly, genuinely looking curious as he continued to brush his fingertips over her exposed skin. She parted her lips, realizing that he still had no idea what her worries had been at the time.

“No,” She responded gently, “I was too worried about what you would think and how I would tell you.” She admitted as she rubbed her thumb across his cheek. It had been so long ago, yet it was suddenly so fresh in her mind.

“I would’ve been happy.” He declared as he looked up at her in determination. She felt a little sick as she nodded her head in agreement, knowing that she had made a very rash and dramatic decision. Still, it wouldn’t have changed what had happened.

“I know.” She told him truthfully as she traced her finger down the curve of his nose. She pressed on the tip of it gently, watching the way he wrinkled his features in response.

“I like Piper.” He took her by surprise. She thought about it for a moment, smiling as she thought it would’ve been a pretty name. Everything suddenly felt too real for her. It was too heavy of a conversation to have with him right now, especially when he would probably wake up and remember none of it.

“That’s a pretty name,” She nodded her head softly, trying to ignore the burning that was forming in her eyes, “You should lay down.” She told him, stepping back just a bit so she could help lift his long legs into bed. He groaned as he tried to sit up, like he had somewhere to be.

She pressed back on his shoulder gently, softly commanding him to lay down. He moved rapidly, falling onto the bed as a soft blissful sigh left his lips. She shook her head, lifting his feet fully onto the bed next. She pulled the covers up over his shoulders, sure that he had already dozed off.

“Thanks.” He said dreamily as he moved his hands up towards the pillow. She wasn’t sure if it was right to keep him in her shared bed with Hugh, but she couldn’t kick him out. Even after everything that had happened. She didn’t want Gator to leave.

“Don’t mention it,” She mumbled as she rubbed her finger across his cheek after she had crawled into bed next to him, “I suppose I owe you. You did take care of me when I freaked out on edibles.” She mumbled softly, briefly thinking of the memory. It had been long and tortuous , but she had Gator there the whole time. Even if he had messed up on their doses, something that she had learned later.

“Do you love him?” He asked her once the darkness had drifted in between the two of them. She felt a slight dip in the mattress as Birdie climbed in. He moved past Daphne, moving to rest onto Gator’s chest instead.

“What?” She looked at him surprised, glad that he couldn’t see her expression in the dark. He gently pressed his fingers through Birdie’s hair, petting him as the silence began to consume them.

“Hugh,” He said softly, “Do you love him?” He asked her again once he clarified what he meant. She shuffled underneath the blankets, wishing she knew how she truly felt. She thought the worst part was that she did know how she felt. She didn’t love Hugh. She cared for him, but she didn’t love him. Her love was reserved for someone else.

“I don’t know.” She admitted at last. Hugh was a lot of things. He was different from Gator. But she didn’t if she was in love with him. She felt terrible saying that, considering she had married him. She felt like she was living a lie. One that she didn’t know how to fix without hurting him.

“That’s not a very good answer.” Gator pointed out as he snorted softly. He continued to pet Birdie, who was now rubbing his face up against Gator’s. He smiled dorkily, looking like he enjoyed the feeling of Birdie's whiskeys against his skin.

“I care for him,” She said a second later, “But he’s not who I thought I’d end up with.” She told him honestly as she rolled onto her side. She watched the way Gator kept staring at the ceiling, like he was examining something.

“Who was that?” He asked her curiously, his tone a little rough like he was jealous. She furrowed her eyebrows together, wondering if he was that dense. She had told him how she felt yesterday, only to receive hurtful words in response.

“I think you know.” She told him as she fought the urge to reach out and touch his face again. Birdie purred louder, filling the gaps in their conversation.

“Me too,” He mumbled underneath his breath, his eyes slowly closing, “Her name is Daphne.” She felt her heart hammering roughly inside of her chest as a bright spark formed inside of her stomach.

“She sounds like a trouble maker.” She laughed softly, sure that she may cry from his words. She wondered if he really meant that. She had meant it when she had said she was in love with him.

“She’s sweet,” He continued to hum softly, sounding like he was seconds away from snoring, “She’s far from here though. She’s like sunshine, like a dream. She’s special.” She listened to him, hoping that he would remember this in the morning.

#gator tillman #Gator Tillman fic #Gator Tillman fanfiction #Gator Tillman series #Gator Tillman x fem!oc #Gator TIllman x oc #Gator x Daphne #Gator Tillman x original character

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bobbybutterfly · 5 months

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First remade background for the Super Secret Project! It’s quite different than the original digital picture. Being far more messy and impressionistic. I would rather not compare the two as each of them is doing it’s own thing. I do find it funny that even though I spent just AGES on the original, doing all these intricate patterns it looks far more clean and I guess I would say empty compared to this just splatter the paint where ever attitude.

I think I should paint on bigger canvases to force myself to do more details. A big inspiration for me are classically animated movies. Yesterday I watched Secret of Nymh which I should finish today. That movie is a master piece!!!! Kind of hard to believe it’s for kids with how dark it is, but as a child I loved dark stuff so yeah. But the backgrounds! Oh the backgrounds! I really got to step up my game. I’m like a kid in a shonen anime.

I also made a little mock up for how the project will look. Just messed around in Procreate with it. Something I want to change for my future projects is a better longer pre production period. This project did have some pre production. Such as sketches, scrapped background and character art. But nothing even nearing a professional production. I used to go to an art high school (high schools here are like roughly ages 15 to 19, I don’t remember perfectly) and there they had you repeat every step of the process like 20 times before you could move on.

I don’t plan on working for like a proper game or animation company. That being said if Disney comes knocking on the door then I’m not going to say no. But I don’t think that type of environment is for me. And with the rise of AI art. Bitch. Why would they want me around with my “special needs”? I think indie game studios are the way to go. My aesthetic would also suit them far more. So erm. Contact me. I want to buy a custom fursuit.

JUST KIDDING! I ain’t stable enough for a job. I’m barely managing doing what ever the fuck this is.

So what do you guys think?

I MIGHT finish it for Christmas but don’t take my word for it. I don’t like deadlines. There’s still like a truck load of work left to do. Exhibit one. Finishing the script. Getting sensitivity and beta readers. Would be great if I could get my friend who studies psychology to look at it. There’s a lot of trauma. I bet ya there’s going to be a whole lot of editing to do after that. Exhibit two. Backgrounds and sprites. Urg. Exhibit three. Putting it somehow together. Presumably with duct tape, paper clips and prays. Exhibit four. Releasing it. Exhibit five. Shameless self promotion. Such as bothering mid size furry YouTubers.

An absolute dream come true would be having Saber Spark look at it, as he’s the one that introduced me amongst many of you I bet to Squirrel and Hedghog. But please don’t go bothering anyone just yet. I want to do the shameless self promotion last when there’s actually something to promote. Otherwise it’s just a scam.

Am I taking this project too seriously? This is the first time I’m doing something like this so it is more of a prototype of how I will do things for later projects.

Bobby out!

#my art #fanart #procreate #squirrel and hedgehog #furry art #background art #acrilicpainting #traditional painting

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goldicthehedgefox · 1 year

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I told myself I'd turn this into a tradition, so here I am throwing all my art in one place again.

All the art featured here is what I had on my art flash drive since that's mainly how I keep track of when I drew what.

Explanations for all the boxes under the cut:

January: Ok, so, turns out I didn't draw shit in January except a fun little doodle of Goldic (the character) fighting one of my friend's ocs. Not gonna throw it down here because it was for a friend. (I also never finished that one thing I was eluding to in the last progression post, big sadge; it would've been so funny if I finished that, or at least enough of it so I could put the other half at the start of this one)

February: Ah yes, playing Uno with Silent Magician and Silent Swordsman. The best way to spend Valentine's Day, tbh. Oh yeah, the GoldicSoulless emote also came into existence.

March: Oops, didn't draw anything. And if I did, I doubt any of it was Tumblr-worthy.

April: Oops, I did it again. I just didn't feel like drawing around that time. It was a nice art break, I guess.

May: Back to drawing and I... didn't draw much, but I did draw a redesign for Moon! ...That I never shared until now:

I also designed regional variants of Riolu and Lucario for fun (and for my fake region, Avnou, that you don't get to hear any infodumps about yet, I'll share that when it's more "complete"; Riolu is Ghost type while Lucario is Ghost/Ground):

and here's the shinies, hehehe (click to see the sparkles better):

June: PRIDE MONTH, WOOOOOOOO- *ahem*, I drew a lot of shit in Pride Month, like: - Me holding my giant af flag made of multiple flags - Note and Symph being cute and gay - Mew and Mewtwo designs for the comic I didn't make yet - A bunch of Pikachu sketches for no reason in particular - and this as a little treat for myself since Sonic's Game Anniversary and my b-day are so close together (literally two days apart):

July: My current profile pic was drawn here, as well as a new (and currently unfinished) ref sheet for Goldic! Here's what is done right now:

though, I'm tempted to just redo it again with all the improvements I've made to my art since drawing this...

August: I just drew a bunch of doodles around this time, tbh. I even colored a couple of them. Also drew Angora again:

Beyond that? Nothing of note.

September: Cyno. Just Cyno. Definitely my best attempt at soft shading in recent memory. Also, you're not tripping, I did design an Ash (and Goh) for that Mewtwo comic I didn't make yet (Ash's design is a mix of his Unova and Journeys designs with some creative freedom mixed in; Goh's ref isn't done yet, but he does have a doodle here!):

Friendly Reminder that Ash has Aura Powers™ and Lucario, the Aura Pokémon, can read people's thoughts (just in case someone wonders why Ash seems to read Goh's thoughts in the above image):

October: I... didn't draw shit in October, but I did draw some all-digital doodles with my mouse! (because no art tablet, lol); I can't share most of it because Angst and NSFW™, but I can share what I haven't shared already:

November: I also didn't draw shit in November, but when I did, I made two whole characters: a catboy (Kitari) and a duelist, yu-gi-oh style, that I didn't share yet (Yune). Fun Fact: Yune is the first Yu-Gi-Oh oc I've ever made, despite loving the series for years, and all I have to show him off is a colored headshot and some messy sketches:

Outfit design isn't final yet, but hey. He exists. Yes, the scarf (and hair) will stay.

December: S Q U A R E - The Puyo Puyo Brainrot returned and so did me drawing Squares. I also drew a bunch of emotes for Kitari (of which only half are done) and another little something that I'll share later~

Overall: - Very productive year in terms of art improvement (mainly anatomy and color choice; character design quality has also improved a lot) - More brainrot fanart than in previous years - Less art overall, but more got shown off - 10/10 quality (compared to older art), hell yeah

#goldic's drawings #2022 art progress #thrakkymor #long post #goldic rambles #enjoy all the doodles hehehehehehe #new year's resolution: draw more art. post more content in general. maybe finally infodump about Thrakkymor so much it'll flood the blog #try my hand at animation a bit. maybe make a comic series that I'd actually want to finish #finally slap some sense into myself so I can post those things #cuz let's be real here: the main thing holding me back right now is myself

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theunaestheticstudyblr · 3 years

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UNIVERSITY WITH MENTAL ILLNESS

Mental health and illness is already hard enough, but adding school pressure on top is hard. High school was easier for me since there is a lot more structure and a lot less choice, which is why I'm targeting this towards college and university students.

Firstly is attending class. Getting to class is a major hurdle, especially with a commute like me (1 hour+) broke people problems lmao. Driving that long to go to a class just to drive back home is already exhausting and unpleasant, especially knowing professors will post slides or something after class anyways. But you have to drag yourself there. One thing I do to help is dress up. I'll do my makeup and put on nicer clothes. Why does this work for me? I hate wasting stuff, especially money and to me, putting on makeup is spending money essentially (same logic as using rare items in a video game idk). I can't just sit around the house and waste the money I just put on my face so I gotta go to class. Small things like this to trick your brain works so well. Before this, there was a restaurant I absolutely loved next to campus so if I went to every class for two weeks I would reward myself by going there. Another thing that helps is making plans with people ahead of time. They'll hold you accountable on days that you can't.

Take rest days. Schedule one whole day a week where you don't do school or go to work. It's a day completely off for anything. I use this day to do chores in the morning and then just lay around and do absolutely nothing all afternoon and night. This helps recharge and reduce stimulation and socialization. It gives your brain that little rest it cries for every day. I used to panic so much about this one day because I could be working and making money or studying or doing anything to be productive until I had a week where I couldn't do anything because I broke down completely, mentally and physically. Now I see it as a preservation day. I use this day to recover from everything.

Make your notes pretty. I hate going back and looking at my messy class notes. Everything is scattered and messy and I get frustrated. What I do instead is make a virtual, concise copy that is pretty to me. I'll add little sketches, color, pictures, etc. This helps draw my attention and allows me to study while doing it! Making the second copy forces you to go through the material after a class is over and review the material to decide what is truly important and then organize it all and then rewrite it all. This has been a huge help.

Use class breaks to snack or grab coffee. One thing I have found in many people with high anxiety is that food and drinks really help calm you down. I've found some research suggesting it's because food is a signal that things are safe and therefore makes you more relaxed, though I don't know much about anthropology and psychology fields. I find this really helps to calm me down after I had a very stressful test so that I can be more present for the next class. Gum helps a lot on high anxiety/panic days as well.

Download the notes or slides, especially if posted ahead of time. This way you have access even if you don't have wifi. You can even pull them up in lectures so you don't have to focus on the board the whole time. For my people with autism, this has helped me so much. There are times where you can't focus on the professor and the slides and the sounds and writing, so doing this cuts out having to watch the teacher and the board. Bonus points if you can record during lecture as well so you can revisit parts that you zoned out in or couldn't focus on.

Keep a journal or diary and list your activities, food, weather, etc in it as well as your mood. This can help you find correlations to hack shit. My favorite way of doing this is through the Daylio app (I wrote a post about it here). Like I notice that days when it's rainy, I study and read more and days where I walk more and eat breakfast, I focus better and am happier overall. This information helps so much. If I know it's going to rain tomorrow, I won't try to force myself to study a bunch today and instead save that energy for later. Instead, I'll take care of myself and go for a walk or something. Knowing how you work and why really makes a HUGE difference.

This might just be my autism brain, but finding cool things related to the topic at hand has helped me keep interest in at least a little of the subject, helping me study more. Like I don't like chimaeras (a fish group) BUT for some reason I love fish teeth and these fishes have a very unique tooth set. This at least let's me know something instead of just ignoring and forgetting everything. 20% is better than nothing.

Find a reason to study what you do, even if it's just that you need this class to graduate. Just taking classes for no reason seems like something neurotypical people are able to do. I can't do it. I need a reason and if I can't find one, I just give up. I used to always say it was useless and pointless and didn't understand why it was required. But I realized the reason to take it is because I want a piece of paper that says I traded lots of money and sanity for it. And that reason has to be good enough.

Make study games. Games are more fun than lifeless paper. Matching games, crosswords, coloring pages, whatever you like!

Feel free to add your tips to this post as well!! I always have room for improvement and experimentation, especially for really hard days. I still find myself skipping even online classes some days. No one had all the answers or has everything figured out. This is just an incomplete list of things that have helped me out a bit and made college life a bit easier.

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pa1nkill3r · 3 years

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"Now How Come I've Only Found Out About This Now?" [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x Fem!Artist!Reader

[Summary:] So far, George Weasley knows three things about his new potions partner; So why not make it four? Or five?

[Warnings:] use of mudblood, a bit of angst, a bit of swearing, a pov change at some point in the end, idk-- fluff?? (is that a warning??)

[Word Count:] ≈2.7k

[A/N:] i used @buckystrenchcoat 's fluff plots for george weasley: 2. George finding out you can draw (kind of got carried away but oh well :D--) (ps just imagine that classes in hogwarts includes all of the houses together, thanks <3) Y/H = your house. (dk the timeline or what year george and the reader are in but i'd say between 3rd-5th year)

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The Weasley twins were becoming reckless and apparently, Professor Snape has had enough. The constant explosions on the other side of the dungeon and the numerous attempts at drowning his hair with shampoo has eventually led him to the decision of assigning the entire class their partners.

Thus halfway into the semester, the Weasley twins are never to be seen together again... that is until the end of 2nd period where they will go back and cause mischief elsewhere.

Fred was assigned to a Slytherin girl who George couldn't figure out if she's madly in love with his brother or wants to rip out his guts. While he on the other hand was assigned with Y/N. Truthfully, he never gave much thought to her, but after their first double potions lesson as partners, he began to wonder why he never gave much thought to her.

She was smart but never overbearing, made jokes here and there, sniggered when he made even the cheesiest of puns, and is wicked attractive. Their first task was to brew a calming draught and whilst adding in a smidge more of lavender, she proposed that they should make more while the majority of the class was still struggling.

"Why in Merlin's beard are we going to make more? We can just pass this and leave class early?" He asked, bringing a smile to her lips. "Yeah, yeah, that's what you want, don't you Weasley?" She quipped, looking back up to the red-headed boy who's now readying their vials.

"Just thought that we could make some for people, like, your brother. Poor guy, reckon he's going to rip his hair out getting partnered with Tuttle." And with that, George let out a laugh, a laugh that cost Gryffindor 5 points. Though, all was well when they were the first to finish and send their little vial of calming draught into the hands of Severus Snape, garnering 5 points each and an opportunity to leave class 10 minutes early.

And that was it, that was their relationship; potions partners.

George Weasley learned 2 things that day. One, his potions partner was someone he wanted to know more, to be with more, and two, one should never put a liberal amount of peppermint in a calming draught. (Fred learned that the hard way.)

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She was the epitome of beauty and brains. So far, that's what he knew about his potions partner. But a little incident in the corridor made two into three.

It wasn't unusual for Fred and George Weasley to skip class, especially if the class was History of Magic. And it also wasn't unusual for them to hide behind a tapestry whilst a stinky dungbomb was set in the first-floor corridor.

What was unusual though, was George not wanting to move from their hiding place, forcing Fred to also not move. "George, mate, wha-?" "SHH!"

Whatever Fred's question was supposed to be, it quickly got answered by the presence of a certain someone whose walking to the Muggle Studies classroom, his brother's potions partner perhaps? Fred grinned mischievously, nudging his brother in the abdomen, and earning a wince.

"Oi mudblood! Was that you?" They heard from a distance, heavy footsteps following the girl he's teasing his brother with. From their point of view, they could tell that the girl stopped in her tracks, sighing heavily as though this was a regular thing.

"Was that me, what?" She asked, clearly annoyed. "Was that you who did it? Or d'you just shat yourself? It smells horrid. Would make sense, as you're a filthy little mudblood."

George's blood was beginning to boil, fingers formed into a fist, knuckles white. Especially when they got to see the silhouette of the two arguing. Perfect, Winnifred Tuttle, his brother's potions partner bullying his Y/N Y/L/N. He had an urge to protect her. To avenge her. To show her how much he cared for someone who's supposed to be his potions partner.

"Was that supposed to be an insult, Tutts?" Y/N spat back, pulling George out of his trance and making Fred shut his mouth. Now he's the one staring intently. "It's honestly just sad. A 'pureblood' like you should know the difference between a dungbomb and a piece of shit. Or perhaps you're probably just that daft?"

The boys were fixated on their conversation now. A hand on their mouths, hopefully covering up their shock even if they're hiding behind a tapestry. George's heart was beating faster now.

"Me? Daft? Well, if I'm daft then why are you taking muggle studies?" Tuttle sneered, an ugly grin splattered across her face.

"Bit hypocritical, isn't it, Winnie? Bye-bye!" She turned her back away from the Slytherin now, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom, holding a few books in one hand and her middle finger in the other.

He knows three things about her now; She's bewitching, she's a whizz, and she's a muggle-born who doesn't take shit.

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A few more lessons in and one could say that Y/N and George are starting to become friendlier to each other. Acquaintances, sure, but, friendly nonetheless. But the Gryffindor wanted to live up to its name, to its values. He might've just gotten to know a bit about her but he was completely and utterly entranced.

Nothing's going to stop him now.

His right hand held his wand as he stirred the concoction in the cauldron. She, on the other hand, was cutting up the stewed mandrake. The easy silence between them was broken by none other than the lion himself.

"Hey," he called, lifting his gaze from the potion to the girl right next to him. "Hi." She said back.

"So... Today's a Friday, right?"

She looked at him, confused, recounting a particular time in which she looked at a calendar today. "Yeah, I think so."

"And we can go to Hogsmeade after classes?"

"Pretty sure you can, why?"

"Want to go on a date?"

She looked stunned which kind of hurt George's ego but as soon as the slightly parted mouth of hers became a cheerful grin, he felt a whole lot better.

"As long as you stop staring at me and not over mix our potion, then sure, I'll go out with you." She smiled, making George give a shy little grin back before attempting to put all his concentration on the brew. Mind boggled on the way she said 'our potion.'

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Going to Muggle Studies felt utterly useless now that Y/N's been promised to go on a date right after. But having George by her side, walking her to the class just seemed to be the best part of the day.

He recounted the time when he and Fred hid behind a tapestry and told Y/N all about it, giving a hot feeling to her cheeks. They stopped by the door frame of the classroom, Professor Burbage was waiting inside, pacing around her study as George's hand slyly held Y/N's.

"I'll pick you up later?" He asked with the same shy smirk plastered on his face, cheeks pink and ears flushed. "Yeah. Thanks for walking me here. You shouldn't have." She uttered, heels rising and falling as she bounced on her toes.

"Just making sure that Tuttsy's not going to ruin your day, love." Y/N felt heat rising to her cheeks and ears, as well as an uncontrollable grin. Her heel turned to make her face the concrete walls of the castle, hands covering their face and body slightly swaying from side to side. It was ridiculous, really. Dumb. Very.

"You're adorable when you're flustered."

"Shut up, Weasley." And with that, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him slightly startled, stunned, and very red in the face. "You're adorable when you're flustered." She quipped, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom and taking her seat.

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Muggle Studies felt oddly slow that day. Usually, it lasted an hour but today it felt like a century. Professor Burbage's talk about electricity and muggle technology went in one ear and out the other.

If you'd ask why Y/N chose a subject she already knew plenty about, her answer would be that she wanted to see things from a different perspective. But truthfully, she just knew that she'd be good at it and it'd be an easy O.

So there she was; A scrap piece of parchment laid on the wooden desk and a pen since Professor Burbage discouraged the use of quills.

Her mind wandered off the moment she sat down on her chair. Feet either bouncing up and down or stuck straight onto the floor, she wouldn't know. What she did remember was her non-dominant hand posing itself as the other one scribbled on the piece parchment.

Her fingers played with the hazy light and the ink added depth. Soon she started sketching other things; The student in front of her, a study of Professor Burbage, a head with a moderately strong jaw and beautiful, short, messy hair. A male side profile with a big nose that has a slight bump on its bridge matching a cheeky grin with dimples. Her hand posed itself once more but this time she wasn't making it look like hers, she was making it look like his. Something she's seen many times before, and guiltily stared at once, twice, more than she could recount.

She was adding in the cluster of freckles when the worst happened; "Miss Y/L/N, still with us?" Professor Burbage stood at the front of the class, standing straight, clearly thinking about her posture. "Miss Y/L/N?"

She felt an elbow nudge her arm, and that was the thing that brought her back into reality. Her head whipped itself to face her seatmate then to her Professor, giving her a funny-looking nervous grin.

"Charm would get you nowhere, Miss Y/L/N. When was the first electricity generator introduced in Britain? And where was it installed?" She has to have something in that brain of hers. It must've been taught sometime when she was in muggle school. "Err-- 1900s something, Surrey--?"

Professor Burbage meekly chuckled, "Nice try. 1881. Godalming, Surrey. A point from Y/H then, I'm sorry."

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George was faithful and stuck to his word. Even being 5 minutes early after asking Professor Grubbly-Plank if he could go to the bathroom and have a wee, saying that the unicorns would definitely mind if he pissed on their trees.

He did not go to the bathroom but instead went straight to the Muggle Studies classroom. Leaning the side of his body onto the wall by the door. Trying his best to peer into the room and find his potions partner and soon to be his date and maybe even his. But he was getting ahead of himself.

The bell rang and he heard a loud shuffling sound of chairs being pulled back. The door was opened as students from all of the houses started pouring out and there she was. Looking beautiful as ever with her bag slung on her shoulder.

"Glad to see you're alright there, dove." He cooed, earning once again another shy smile. "Anything happened there?" He asked, pointing to the now open classroom.

"Felt way longer than usual, and I lost a house point." She said matter of factly. George chuckled, his heart filled with pride as he turned his head towards her.

"And what have you done to lose said house point?"

She smiled before reaching her hand into a pocket of her robes, pulling out a folded piece of aged parchment before handing it to the curious redhead.

"What's this? A love letter?" He bantered. "Just open it." And so he did. His nimble fingers unfolding the parchment, then he was stunned. Seeing his face drawn in ink with lines crossing over more lines was the last thing he expected. It looked like him. And it didn't look like Fred. It is him.

"I was just drawing in class but then I sort of blanked out and got a dumb question wrong." She paused, looking back up to see if the redhead was still listening. "Hello? Earth to George?"

"You drew me?" He was on a fine line of disbelief and awe. It truly looked amazing. She drew her hand at least three times before he recognized his was also there. She even got the little freckle he had on the middle of his wrist. The full body of ol' Professor Burbage brought so much of her energy and even the way her scarf wrapped around her neck was perfect.

Her cheeks were heating up again, realizing what she just did. "It's not that good. Just-- drew what I saw and, err-- whatever came to mind, I guess." Bad execution, sloppy excuse. "Okay, you've been looking at that for way too long now--"

"This looks bloody brilliant! Now how come I've only found out about this now?"

"Flattery would get you nowhere, Weasley." She joked, but he was serious.

"S'not 'flattery' if I'm stating what's true! It's amazing, you're amazing." She felt her heartbeat increase by a mile.

"Well then, I'm flattered." She said, adjusting the strap of her bag to hopefully let out some adrenaline. "And to answer your question, it'd be terrifying if I just started drawing in Snape's class. I swear that man has eyes at the back of his head. That's why this is a new discovery for you."

"Fuck, this is amazing!" He uttered.

"It's really not that good--"

"'S'really not that good' Some shit standards you have there. I'd put this in a museum!" He said loudly, extending both his arms and imagining that the piece of parchment was displayed on the Hogwarts walls. "If you don't like it then I'll keep it." George joked, expecting disapproval, which, to his shock, never came.

"Are you actually giving this to me?"

She shrugged, "I mean if you'd like a photo of you drawn by a teenage girl then be my guest." He smiled, genuinely smiled. He looked so pretty at that moment and there shouldn't be any holding back now.

"...But," She started, his gaze looked intently at her, ready to listen to whatever comes next. "There's a price."

"Between Freddie and I, we have 26 galleons and a few sickles." He said, earning a hearty laugh and a shake of her head. "Don't really think he'd like me to give all of it to you, I'm sorry. If you want I'd pay a bit then I--"

"No, George." She said, tugging lightly on his tie to gain his attention. "How about... a kiss? Perhaps?"

He grinned. His hand hovered itself across her face before landing on her cheek, thumb gracing itself on its apples, slightly squishing the skin whilst his eyes looked for any signs of discomfort; there was none.

They slowly leaned in, eyes locked on lips before their lips locked onto each other. His lips were slightly chapped but it felt like the softest thing on Earth. He smelled of cinnamon, firewood, gunpowder, and other indescribable scents, but it was nice. It was short but meaningful, gentle, even. His other hand was wrapped around her waist and once again, his thumbs were running up and down whatever part of her body it's laid on.

He learned two more things about the girl that day; she's artistic, and she felt like home.

He never thought there'd be a time in his life where he'd be thankful for Severus Snape. But life goes in unexpected ways.

"If you'd like to tip me then I'm just going to say that I love cauldron cakes." She grinned up at him as they pulled away before settling her face in his chest. George chuckled to himself before wrapping his arms completely on her waist, placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He said, pulling away to let her shake herself up as he held onto the piece of folded parchment which graced his face, giving it a small peck before putting it in his pocket, patting it three times.

"Better sign that drawing for me, Y/N. How much does an autograph cost?"

"Double the original price—?"

"And the tip?"

"And the tip."

#george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #oml this is long

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n0bamak1s · 3 years

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whisper of the heart- megumi fushiguro x reader

summary: you begin to take notice of the name “megumi fushiguro” on all the tops of your library checkout cards. a semi-retelling of whisper of the heart featuring you and megumi. (genre: fluff, high school au, meet cute)

warnings: none! except maybe slightly ooc megumi

word count: 3.2k

a/n: hi everyone! ty all again for being so patient with me publishing this. i’ve been very busy with college apps lately, but i’m gonna try to keep this blog as active as i can while balancing it with school life. anyways, i had a lot of fun writing this, but i’m definitely not used to writing megumi, so feel free to leave feedback ^^ i also changed some details from the original movie and left it a bit open ended, so feel free to let me know if you want a part 2!

“who the hell is megumi fushiguro?”

your gaze was fixed on the faded ink reading the now all too familiar characters. the characters spelling out a name that managed to keep showing up on the yellow tinted checkout cards tucked into the books you borrowed.

nobara glanced over your shoulder, inspecting the piece of cardstock tucked between your fingers. wrinkling her nose in disgust, she plucked the card from you, holding it closer to her face.

“whoever it is, they have terrible handwriting.” she stuck her nose up, turning back to you with a playful smile. “i don’t know how you managed to get ‘megumi fushiguro’ out of that chicken scratch.” a face of mock distress crossed her features as she did air quotes around the name, as if she couldn’t believe such a delicate name would be given to someone with such handwriting. she’s always had a tendency to be a bit over dramatic about trivial stuff like this.

with nothing more than a huff in response, you snatched back the card, tucking it neatly back into your library book. your fingers grazed the worn down cover for a moment, gliding along the slight tears around the corners and the stiffness of the yellowing pages.

‘i wonder how many of these creases came from megumi fushiguro?’

“whoever it is, it seems like that name shows up in every book i check out in the library.”

nobara kicked a rock as she walked, leaving a small cloud of dust around her feet. “maybe you’re just imagining it. you always stay up so late doing whatever the hell it is you do in your free time that you’ve probably begun to hallucinate.” she nudged you playfully, eliciting a dead pan expression from you.

“i’m serious nobara. i mean, i’ve never really believed in fate but there’s no way it’s completely coincidental!”

she raised an eyebrow, as if to say you can’t be serious. “i think you’ve been reading too many romance novels, for all you know this person could totally be just some weird old guy with nothing better to do than visit the library.”

“hey!” you acted as if that last bit was a personal attack on you, and knowing nobara it probably was. “i’m not saying this megumi fushiguro person is my soulmate or anything, i just think it’s a very strange coincidence.” you shrugged off your backpack as you talked, putting away your book. noticing the suspiciously light weight of your bag, you rummaged your fingers around for a moment to find that your sketchbook had gone missing.

crap.

nobara turned to you, perceptive as ever of your suddenly altered demeanor. “forget something again?” it was almost annoying sometimes how well she knew you. was it really that obvious?

“just my sketchbook,” your hands rifled through your bag one final time to make sure you really didn’t have it “probably left it on the park bench or something, it’ll just be a minute to get it.” you turned to her with a sheepish smile, silently pleading her to follow you there. she stared blankly at you for a moment, probably having one of her internal monologues about how lucky you were to have her as a friend, before rolling her eyes and following suit.

“this better be quick, i have places to be you know!”

“no you don’t.” you turned around before you could meet her melodramatic glare.

behind you, you could hear her huff of dissatisfaction, though she made no move to leave, reassuming her position next to you, giving you a gentle nudge as she brushed next to you.

as you walked, the sunlight peeking between trees framing your pathway began to warm your face, highlighting the ends of your eyelashes and the tops of your cheeks with the warm glow of the first hints of summer time. for a moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped in it, before your fleeting thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bike coming in your direction. you felt as if you’d jump out of your own skin in that moment, hearing a “move out of the way!�� from a husky, disembodied voice.

it probably looked pretty ridiculous how you jumped out of the way, kicking up a fleeting cloud of dust as you avoided the sudden presence of the biker. grounding yourself, your eyes flickered up to the source of the voice, being met with the gaze of stormy blue eyes, framed by long, dark eyelashes that nobara would most definitely be envious of. taking in the boy’s whole figure, your eyes were drawn to the messy black hair atop his head, formed at the ends into contradictorily gentle looking spikes. the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up taut around his forearms, leading your gaze to his hands wrapped tightly around the bike handles.

oh, right. he’s still biking.

you turned your focus back to keeping to your side of the path momentarily, before the sight of your name written atop the sketchbook peeking out of his bag came into your field of vision as he continued to move past you. before you had time to think rationally, you turned to his now retreating form, breaking into a jog, kicking up a few more dust clouds as you did.

ignoring nobara’s incredulous calling of your name, you tried to call to the boy who had no intention of slowing down. “excuse me!” you cupped a hand around your mouth, hoping to project your voice louder. “hey!” the irritation in your voice was clear, but you breathed a small sigh of relief as the bike slowed to a stop, and the spike headed boy turned to your direction.

after an awkward moment of your continued jogging to him while he stood with a blank expression, you stopped in front of him, an accusatory look grazing your features.

“i think you have something of mine.” you tried your best to imitate the confident attitude you always admired from nobara, placing a hand on your hip and using the other one to point to his bag. his gaze followed the direction of where you pointed, his eyebrows raised while the rest of his face remained stagnant.

“oh, this?” he tugged the cardboard covered sketchbook out of the pocket it had been placed in, examining the cover. his eyes flickered between your name written in the top corner, and your currently annoyed looking face, as if he was playing some sort of word association game. you simply nodded in response, anticipation clear in your actions.

as he held out the sketchbook to you, he leaned down so his face was closer to you, as if to tell you a secret, voice low and eyes trained on you. “you should be more careful next time. you’re lucky i’m nice enough to not just steal this from you right now.”

you didn’t have an explanation as to why your heart began to race.

taking your silence as a response, he pushed it into your hands, his fingers brushing against yours gently. “nice drawings by the way, i recognize your friend over there from the portrait you drew of her on the first page.” his face remained stoic as he pointed at nobara, who was tapping her foot in boredom.

face warm from embarrassment, you snatched the sketchbook from where his hands lingered on it, muttering a bitter sounding “thanks” before stalking over to nobara once more, who looked relieved that she’d finally be able to go wherever it was she was going to.

“what an asshole.” you glared at him over your shoulder as he biked away, your gaze lingering a second too long for someone so insistent on hating him. nobara shook her head in response, clearly annoyed at your own obliviousness after witnessing the whole interaction.

a smug smile crossed her soft features. “maybe that’s megumi fushiguro.”

you raised a brow as you glanced at her. “as if!”

despite your insistence on your distaste for the mystery boy, he managed to have flooded your thoughts. ‘he must be using sorcery or something to keep himself on my mind, weirdo.’

still, you couldn’t deny how just a few more of your portraits were accented by ocean blue eyes, or pointed ends to the different mops of hair you sketched. how did you manage to keep attracting mystery people into your life?

when you returned to the library, you gripped a thick science fiction novel, the pages brushing your soft fingers as your marched it up to the checkout counter. as the librarian wrote the date on a small piece of cardstock, you took note of the fact that your name would be the first one there. had megumi fushiguro missed out on this one?

a pleasant smile stretched across your face as the librarian handed the book back to you. scrawling your name at the top of the checkout card, your eyes flickered to a stamp of ink beneath the slot for it.

donated by fushiguro.

of course it was.

the library door squeaked quietly as you pushed it open, one hand on the door, and the other placing your new book in your backpack. zipping it up and throwing it over your shoulder, you were met with the feeling of a dog sniffing your leg. your eyes trailed down to a dog almost akin to a small polar bear brushing its nose against your calf. reaching your hand to scratch softly against the back of his head, you coo gently at the not-so-little little guy.

“what’s got you all by yourself buddy?” an involuntary smile creeps onto your face at how he calms at your pats.

wordlessly, obviously considering this is a dog, he turns and walks a few steps forward, before pausing and tilting just his fur covered face toward you, egging you on to follow him just as you had the other day with nobara. you considered for a moment, before shrugging and giving in to his pretty minimal amount of convincing. nobara would be out getting lunch with maki today anyways, so you could use something to do today. after all, it could be fate.

it was almost as if you were one of those people who walked their dog without a lash, but in reality, it was more like the dog was walking you as it lead you down tall, sidewalk-lined hills and through parks filled with young parents having picnics with their children and couples going on walks. you wondered to yourself if this was a worthwhile excursion, was he just leading you to a dead end, or worse, was he some dog trained by a gang to lure people into danger?

after walking a few minutes more, you found out the spot you were being lead to was, in fact, even worse then both the possibilities you’d been brainstorming in your head, when you were met at the bottom of another hill with the stoic expression of that spike head. his eyes softened at the sight of the dog, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips that quickly vanished as he met your gaze, his eyes hardened in contrast with the bashfulness that shone on his cheeks.

“oh, you found him. thanks for that.” he cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his gaze back to the dog. you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. to be fair though, what did you expect you’d do when you found where the dog was leading you?

“i should probably go.” your usually collected demeanor had been replaced with that of a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. with a stiff wave, you took your leave, turning on your heel.

“wait.” his voice wavered, as if trying to catch himself before he spoke. “i can walk you home if you want. it’s the least i can do after you got him home.” he forced a smile onto his face, though it made him look more constipated than inviting. what happened to the snarky, aloof boy who had handed you your sketchbook just a few days ago?

still, you nodded, lips pressed into a line that you hoped resembled somewhat of a smile. surely, you should have been more worried about his sudden change in demeanor, but the relieved expression on his face seemed to soothe your nerves a bit. he assumed a spot next to you, tucking his hands in his pants pockets.

“your little buddy there lead me all over the city trying to find you, so i don’t exactly know how to get home from here, but maybe you can just lead me to the library.” you turned so you faced him, now aware of the close proximity between you two. nobara would probably laugh in your face if she could witness the moment you paused, stunned by the eye contact he made with you under his thick eyelashes. had you been perceptive enough in the moment, you may have noticed the blush creeping up his face. he nodded his head, which was already tilted down to face you fully, with eyes hazy and lips slightly parted.

“it’s just this way, i’ll show you.” he removed his hand from its pocket to point up the hill that had brought you to him in the first place. you gripped the straps of your backpack and faced in the direction he pointed to obediently, hoping to ignore the weird tension in the air. what could you talk to him about?

before you could continue your internal dilemma, he cleared his throat again. “you seem to like the library a lot, huh?”

by god was this boy terrible at small talk.

“i guess i do, but i don’t know how you came to that conclusion considering i only just brought up the library.” you cocked an eyebrow as you looked at him, probably sounding more annoyed than you’d intended.

he smiled knowingly at you, a hint of disbelief on his features as he raised his eyebrows. “i guess you wouldn’t know since your nose is always buried in a book, but i see you there like every day.”

your eyebrows furrowed so they practically touched, trying to rack your memory for seeing him in the library. “i’m sure i’d be able to recognize you if you did.” you were completely oblivious to the implications of how memorable you found him that laced your statement.

he shrugged nonchalantly. “believe it or not. i even tried sitting down in front of you a few times, but you were always too focused on your books to notice.” his smile was almost bittersweet as you waited by a stoplight. before you could respond, he continued. “it’s kind of admirable though. i think it’s nice that you’re so passionate about your books.”

you took a chance to look at him, really look at him, for the first time since you’d glared at him biking by. he held your gaze, eyes gentle. there was absolutely no way this was the same boy carrying your sketchbook in his bag from a few days ago.

“well if you think i’m so nice, what was with you trying to be all smart about my sketchbook?” ever the stubborn one, you were.

he shrugged his shoulders, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “you really should be more careful of your stuff. i was just letting you know. it’s not like i would have put in that effort for just anyone’s sketchbook. i guess i was just trying to make sure you wouldn’t lose it again. sorry if i offended you.”

the way he was blushing would have made any bypasser believe he’d just asked you to marry him.

“it’s just…” he continued “after seeing you in the library all the time, i thought you were really impressive. i thought if i tried to return your sketchbook, i could impress you too.” he kicked a rock that touched the edge of his sneaker.

“why would you wanna impress me?” your obliviousness was excruciating for the poor boy, though it was completely sincere on your end.

“you know, for someone so smart, you really are dense.” he pursed his lips, feigning annoyance. “and here i was thinking i was so obvious.”

at this point, you were nearing the library, and suddenly desperate to continue this conversation that you would have been dreading at the start of this walk.

“when it was obvious you weren’t gonna look up from your book, i tried checking out as many books as i could to get on your radar.” his smile had a weird hint of sadness behind it. you stayed silent, piecing together facts in your head.

“recognize the name megumi fushiguro?”

oh.

it pained you for a moment to know you’d have to tell nobara she was right.

“you’re megumi fushiguro?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise, mouth slightly agape. he seemed to stifle a laugh at your expression.

“i mean, what were you expecting?” he looked a little too smug for someone who was too scared to talk to you in the library.

“some weird old person, probably.” you shrugged, still with an incredulous look on your face. “i’m glad it wasn’t though.”

“oh?” he really did have a nice smile. “i guess you’re glad it was me then.” even he was unsure of this sudden confidence.

you pondered his question for a moment, but your body moved before your brain did, nodding your head slowly. he seemed to loosen up then, hands out of his pockets again, making you aware of how close you stood to him with the way his fingers brushed yours every few steps. a slight sadness filled your being as you stopped in front of those squeaky library doors that suddenly seemed so uninviting.

“i’ll tell you what then,” he started confidently, juxtaposing the bashful way he avoided eye contact with you all of a sudden “come to the library again tomorrow, and i’ll meet you there. really meet you this time, not just walking past your table. i can show you my favorites there and you can show me yours, it’ll be…fun.” he looked up almost worriedly for your reaction, slightly angry at himself for his sudden shyness, you seemed to have quite the effect on him.

there was a beat of silence, and he almost cut the tension in the air by taking back his request and booking it back home. before he could fully hatch his master escape plan, you reached over to grab his hand, his slender fingers lacing through yours. you gave it a light squeeze, and swore you could feel him jump a little at the contact.

“i’d like that a lot,” you looked in his eyes, which had gone from defensive to doe like in just your five words “megumi fushiguro.” he loved the way his name sounded coming from you. his anticipation cracked into a smile as he squeezed your hand back, and you prided yourself on getting to make him smile again.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, then.” he leaned down slightly as he said it, reminiscent of how he had scolded you about your sketchbook just a few days ago. you nodded in response, unable to stop the giddy smile stretching across your face.

tomorrow couldn’t come any faster.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen

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k-comfyspace · 3 years

Text

Neglected

Idol: Kim Chaewon, Kim Minju (Izone)

Request: Yes

Love: hi, i really love your writing! can i request a chaewon x minju x fem!reader where the reader wants to break up bc they seem happier without her but 2kim comforts her? angsty but with happy ending please? thank you!!!

A/n: Again can’t believe this is the first time I wrote this kind of story, take my privilege please! Ya’ll are just really nice, makes my heart soft and because I was in the mood to write, this is the longest scenario I’ve ever written🥺

You glanced outside the window, looking down at the field as you cleared your thoughts, trying to observe the students playing and exercising.

But really you were deep in your thoughts, struggling as you tried to figure out a solution, you knew they cared for you. You were the luckiest woman in the world to have the chance to date Minju and Chaewon.

To have them love you and show you sides that no fan has ever seen before, you knew it was too good to be true, and recently it’s been showing.

You never wanted to let your thoughts get the best of you. But recently you’ve found your relationship to be only centered around the two of them. Oftentimes you were stuck in school or you were back home doing projects, you would constantly cancel your time with them because you were busy, while they would just be a reach away.

You were the only one who was always busy, so you blame yourself that they were always happy being together because you were never there.

It would make you feel better if they had talked to you if they have any issues. But you couldn’t complain, how could you, not only is it your fault but they seemed a lot happier without you.

“Ms. L/n!” you snapped your head to the front, suddenly hearing your name as you realized the whole class was staring at you. Your professor included as he had his eyebrows furrowed, anger clear in his features before he asked you to stand.

“Could you answer the question, Ms. L/n?” He asked and you could only look down, hands behind your back before you heard him sigh, “Y/n this has been the 5th time this week, am I going to have to call in your parents?”

Your head shot up to look at your professor, shaking your head rapidly, “No, I’m sorry professor it won’t happen again, this is the last time,” you promised before he paused looking at your form and making you uneasy until he nodded, raising his finger towards you.

“One last time, Ms. L/n,”

“Thank you, sorry professor,”

Then the bell rang making you professor look at you with disappointment before he dismissed the class. You suddenly felt the guilt of the trouble you caused for the man as you left the room.

“It’s been the 5th time this week,” his words echoed in your head, your shoulders slumping as the reality dawned on you, that's because you kept in your issues so much that it started to show.

Your emptiness and sadness started to affect your performance, you were lucky that the professor was nice, if it were anyone else, your parents would’ve been interrogating you at this point.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the crowd behind you in the front was your girlfriend, following you with a smile as she held her bag, Minju caught up with you. Linking your arms together you suddenly jolted, jerking your hand as you earned a confused look from Minju.

“Sorry, I was thinking,” you played it off before Minju giggled and linked her arms with you again, “You’ve been thinking a lot these days, ba—Y/n,” you kept looking straight trying not to give too much away and ignored the slip up she had.

Of course the other students didn’t know, they couldn’t, since most of them were already wild enough as it is because out of all the people she chose L/n Y/n, to be the closest with and not to mention that her career only began 5 months ago so having a dating scandal this early on would surely affect not only her and Chaewon’s career but the rest as well.

“They’re dumping a lot of projects this week, so I’ve been a little out of it, sorry,” you apologized but your girlfriend could only shake her head before a sudden idea struck her, “You can come to the dorm and we’ll help you, Y/n!” She said and you could only shake your head.

“I don’t want to bother the other Minju, you’re already so busy I can’t just go there and interrupt,”

“Nonsense, Y/n, the girls practically adopted you when they met you, plus we’re on our break anyway.” She said and you were about to refuse but she cut you off, “You’ve been working too hard these days, baby, a little help wouldn’t be bad,” she said softly making your heart melt at her concern.

So with a conflicted heart and messy thoughts you agreed, your girlfriend cheering as she led you to the van.

—

“Y/n!” You smiled at the others waving as they greeted, “Baby,” Chaewon pushed herself off the couch and went to hug you and Minju as you forced a smile to convince the girls who cooed and playfully gaged at their members’ affection, but you didn’t quite fool all of them.

Your eyes landed on the blue haired girl, as Yujin gave you a soft smile when she saw the conflict in your eyes.

She was the first person you knew that was part of a group. Yujin was the perfect friend for you, she often matched your personality and she was a good listener.

Since in your first year at school she was the one that you got to know first, though you were both shy at first something eventually clicked until she introduced you to her friends.

Yujin was the person you could approach when you needed help with your girlfriends, even if she was young, Yujin did her best to listen to you and figure out a solution. Sometimes she was the reason why the three of you would make up when you had a problem, she cared for you like her big sister and you cared for her as your little sister.

So naturally when you started to have thoughts about Minju and Chaewon, Yujin was the first person you approached and ranted to, trying your best to not ruin their relationship as members while you ranted.

Thankfully Yujin didn’t think any bad things towards her unnie but she did find it quite annoying that her unnies were sweeter to each other than they are to you.

She’s been wanting to intervene, say how much they’re hurting you but to her displeasure you would constantly hold her back, saying it wasn’t a big deal. Which made it increasingly difficult to not be annoyed because of your niceness. If it was her she would’ve marched toward them and yelled out everything.

She admired that about you, that even if you were mistreated you would still forgive them and brush it off because it made the other happy, but sometimes it could be the reason you break.

—

Laying down on the floor, you did your best to write, tracing the sketch carefully as you ignored the couple giggling every so often. But in the corner of your eye, you could clearly see them, laughing as they kept talking about something. It was like they already forgot that they had someone else.

You gripped your pen, biting your tongue because you were afraid of blurting something out.

Yujin watched you from her spot, before she slowly made her way over next to you, nudging your body. As you looked over, she sent you a gentle smile keeping her voice low to avoid the others from hearing,

“If you need a second we can talk about it just say something,” she whispered and you smiled, sending your friend a thankful smile as you patted her knee.

Minju noticed you and Yujin whispering to each other, a small frown on her face as she wondered what you could’ve talked about.

“Hey, Y/n, is this good?” She called you, wanting to get your attention as she showed you her work on one of the parts you’ve given her. It was a weak attempt to get you because you were whispering with Yujin but you did glance over and gave her a smile.

Nodding at the work as you thanked her and said that she did a good job.

Throughout the night most of the girls had spent it finishing your projects, making sure to thank all the girls for their help. And throughout the night you had given yourself a fair distance away from the couple, focusing on your job as you plugged in your music or kept talking with Yujin who did her best to distract you, which you were infinitely grateful for.

However Minju and Chaewon had noticed you distancing yourself, it might’ve been their imaginations but you are so full of life when you spoke with the others, smiling as you replied excitedly or happily with the rest of the girls.

But whenever they would call for you, a short reply was all they got, even if they would try to hug you or say random sweet nothings, you would accept it but push away after a few seconds as you got back to your work.

You were slowly starting to get annoyed, partnered by your already conflicted feelings and with them constantly calling you for your attention, “Y/n we can we talk for a second, in private?” She whispered again which made you suddenly snap.

“I said I can handle it Yujin,” you said sharply, causing the younger girl to flinch, pursing her lips as she turned quiet.

You kept silent for the rest of the night, finishing your projects before you packed. You thanked the girls, making sure you showed them your gratitude and promised to repay them for their help.

Then you turned to your girlfriends, seeing both of them chatting, you wanted to thank them for helping but seeing them laugh so hard and so joyfully your mood was dampened again.

Your eyes however caught another sight, across the room Yujin cleaned up the mess, but the frown on her face was visible behind the curtain of hair she hid behind.

You sighed, approaching the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Yujin glanced up, seeing a small smile on your face as you gestured your head to the side, “Let’s talk,” you said, which immediately the blue haired followed you.

Unbeknownst to them of the eyes watching as they went into the hallway, Yujin avoided your eyes before you rested your hand on her shoulder, “Hey, I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you started seeing her about to speak but you cut her off.

“Me going through stuff doesn’t give me a valid reason to be mad at you Yujin, you were only trying to help me and I’m grateful for that. I don’t want to bring you into my problems, I don’t want you hating on other people because of me, you’re a good friend Yujin-ah,” you finished, seeing a pout starting to form on the younger’s face as she couldn’t say anything.

You giggled, pulling her into a hug, noticing the two figures peeking from the living room. You pulled away and smiled at your best friend, ushering her away before the two other girls came into the hallway, looking at you with concerned faces.

You forced a smile, eyes lingering on their clasped hands, “Hey,” Chaewon greeted you as Minju smiled, reaching their hands out for yours.

Intertwining your fingers together used to make you feel everything, the slight dip in your stomach because of the excitement, your heart beating against your chest because it felt so full, and the tingling sensation on your skin because of their warmth.

Now everything seemed off, it felt incomplete, you wanted to pull away but you didn’t want to disconnect yourself from them, then the conflict in your eyes didn’t escape past both of them. Squeezing your hands before they asked you, “We just want you to be honest with us, Y/n,”

“Are you tired of us?”

The question shocked you, eyes snapping towards the two of them who looked at your with sad features,

“Because recently we’ve been noticing that you keep moving away, when we have plans you cancel, when we want to come over you say you’re busy, when we talk to you your responses are always short and empty. And we uh—wanted to know if, you still want to be with us,”

There was silence for a while, you looked at them in disbelief before pulling your hand away, your breathing getting heavier as you tried to contain your anger.

“Are you serious?” You asked, as they could only look at you with confusion, “You’re really gonna ask me a question when you yourselves are the ones who need it?”

“What do you—“

“I’ve spent the past week, torturing myself to forget, seeing you two being so sweet and caring for each other while I’m at the side being ignored. I keep canceling because I didn’t want to bear the fact that you two are starting to forget about me, that you’re too caught up with each other to even notice that I’m struggling.”

“I don’t want all of your attention, but please do keep in mind that there are other people in this relationship besides you two.” Your voice was getting louder, the girls in the living room perking up when they heard your voice.

Minju and Chaewon looked at you with mixed emotions, suddenly confused on why you would hide this from them silence lingered for a while the tension rising,

“Then why didn’t you tell us? Why choose to say it now? You have a lot of chances to say it but you didn’t,” Minju asked with a sudden tone to her voice, making you scoff in disbelief.

“You think I didn’t try?!”

“I’ve been wanting to say something everyday, I wanted to talk with you two just so this wouldn’t happen but everytime the three of us get together it’s like I never existed in the first place. I respected it at first, maybe you didn’t want to bother me but the way you feel for each other doesn’t go to me anymore, it feels one sided.”

At this point the girls already heard everything, looking at the three of you with their brows furrowed, they’ve seen you three fight but it never went to this level.

You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back your tears before Yujin padded to the three of you, but suddenly Chaewon spoke again, the words leaving her mouth made everyone’s breath hitch, “So how do we know you’re not sick of us? You might be seeing Yujin for all we know,”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, looking at Chaewon. You couldn’t say anything, before your eyes snapped to Yujin who looked at the older with annoyance and anger,

“You’ve got some nerve to accuse Y/n like that, what’s gotten into you, Unnie? She’s your girlfriend for God’s sake!”

“How do we know for sure! She’s been ignoring us for the past week and has been with you, so sorry if I started to think that!” Their voices started to get louder before they started to argue, the girls stepping in and pulling them away from each other before anything got out of hand.

Your head started to hurt, your hands shaking as you saw them yelling at each other, “Just stop it!” You yelled, a voice echoing off the walls which made them pause, it was the first time you yelled that loud, tears streaming down your face as you tried your best to wipe them.

“This has nothing to do with Yujin, she’s the one that’s been helping me and convincing me that I don’t need to break up with you, but I didn’t think you would stoop so low and accuse me of seeing another person behind your back especially accusing your own member too.”

You turned, grabbing your coat and slamming the door, your footsteps rushing to the elevator before you left. Once the door shut a sob escaped your lips, a sudden weight on your shoulder every step you took away from the dorm.

—

The room was quiet, most of them staring at the door with shocked expressions, a scoff came from Chaewon as she stomped away, going to her room and slamming the door shut, Minju standing still with her eyes wide.

Yujin was breathing heavily, tears in her eyes as she walked away, hurriedly going inside her room.

A few minutes later Minju left, padding towards Chaewon’s room and entered, closing the door gently. Leaving the girls in the living room glancing at each other, the concern and worry in each of their eyes.

Weeks went by and the girls didn’t receive any contact from you, Minju couldn’t see you in school anymore, and Yujin couldn’t call you.

Which worried everyone to no end, they’ve been wanting to visit you but recently their schedules have been so packed that they didn’t have time to check.

Minju, Chaewon, and Yujin were quiet for the whole week, their interactions were minimal except when they were on camera. The girls didn't want to intervene, because this was their problem, but it hurt them with each day to see them ignoring each other.

So when one day Chaewon and Minju knocked on the door, Yujin opened it, her eyes suddenly turning wide when she saw the two in front of her door, their heads down as they guiltily fidgeted in their place.

“Can we talk, please?” Chaewon spoke up, raising her head to look at the younger who kept silent nodding as she stepped aside and allowed the two in the room.

They sat on the beds, the air awkward before Minju sighed, “We’re sorry,”

“We’re sorry for what we did, what we said and what we thought wasn’t right. We shouldn’t have accused you and doubted you we were wrong.”’

“I don’t like to be mad at you unnie’s, what you did was wrong, you did a lot of things that day that were wrong. I know I’m young but please don’t think that badly about Y/n unnie, the things she’s been telling me about you two, it’s something I don’t think I could go through, so please don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.”

Chaewon pulled the blue haired girl into a hug, Minju joining as they made up, Chaewon smiling as she whispered to the younger girl, “We will,”

—

When the girls had been given the week to rest, Minju and Chaewon didn’t waste a beat, rushing home and washing up before they asked their manager to bring them to your apartment.

They went to your door, using the key that they had hoping to see you but all they were met with was silence. No TV, no music, no sounds in the kitchen, they were sure that you were home because your shoes were beside the door.

They made sure to check every room calling out for you until Minju stopped at your room, opening it gently before she saw you on your bed, your body covered with sheets as you slept, as the soft snores passed your lips.

Minju called her girlfriend, both of them padding to your form and cupping your cheeks but worry struck them when they felt how warm you were.

Your forehead covered in a sheen of sweat before they looked at each other, you were sick.

They removed their coats, placing them aside as they took the blankets of your body. Chaewon went to get a basin and a towel while Minju got some clothes out of your closet before they cleaned you.

Minju cleaned up your room after Chaewon finished wiping your body, leaving the towel on your forehead to absorb all the heat.

Chaewon rummaged through your fridge and did what she could to make you some soup while Minju sat by your side, observing you as she suddenly felt whole again.

After a week of not seeing you, talking to you, it left her so empty and without her noticing a tear dropped before she started to cry silently, her eyes closed while she held the sheets until she felt someone cup her cheek.

Minju opened her eyes, a sob fully escaping her lips when you were smiling at her, wiping the tears that kept flowing out, “Why are you crying?” The softness of your voice made it worse for her and soon Chaewon entered, a tray in her hands with your food, water, and medicine.

When she saw you awake she froze at the door, her eyes welling with tears when you looked at her, no anger or disappointment in your eyes. She padded closer to you and placed the tray to the side before reaching for your hand, which you gladly gave her as she put it against her cheek, her own eyes stinging with tears.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Chaewon’s voice was so small, so defeated that it hurt you that she was going through that, even if it was her own fault.

“We l-love you, Y/n, please don’t ever forget that, we’re so sorry that we n-neglected you,” Minju nuzzled her cheek against your palm,

“P-Please give us a chance to be better, we w-won’t know what to do without you,” they inched in and embraced you, making you close your eyes when you felt them again but this time everything felt normal again.

The sinking feeling, the tingles, and your heart hammering against your chest. You felt whole to be with them for so long, “We’ll a-always love you, n-no matter what,” you felt your hair get brushed aside before they kissed your cheek and you could only sigh.

Your arms tighten around them as you want them to be closer. With a silent acceptance and promise they would always take care of you, show you how much you mean to them because truly they wouldn’t be who they are without you.

#izone #izone scenarios #izone imagines #girl group #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #izone chaewon #izone minju #kim minju #kim chaewon #minju #chaewon #minju scenarios #minju imagines #chaewon imagines #chaewon scenarios

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wiltkingart · 3 years

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hi wilt, sorry if this is a weird ask, but do you have any advice on working faster? ive been drawing for a while, but i feel like even relatively simple things take me a long time to do well compared 2 other people. But whenever I try and force myself to work faster, i think my art suffers for it. I'm just drawing for myself rn, so there's no outside pressure or anything, im just unsure how to draw/paint faster without sacrificing the quality of what i'm working on.

i can speak from my personal experience, at the very least!

first off i want to preface that taking longer than other people to make art isnt a bad thing at all. some artists that i admire a lot have said that they take days or weeks or even months to make a single art piece. the fast paced pressure of being a modern ‘social media artist’ does us more harm than good, i think. and there’s really nothing wrong at all about taking your time, especially if you like your art better when you go at your own pace.

personally i have gotten significantly faster at art over the past 3 years, but that wasnt ever actually my intention. in fact my goal was just to simplify my sketches to make the whole process easier on my hand. but by simplifying my sketches, i ended up cutting back severely on the amount of time it would normally take to overwork and cleanup my sketches, as well as reducing the amount of time i needed to clean up my work while coloring. so it became a positive side effect of my original goal, rather than my main focus.

for example, this is what my sketches looked like in 2016

i would spend so much time and effort on them that i would often end up just using the sketch as lineart and coloring underneath.

lots of artists do this, and it isnt bad at all! but this was very stressful on my hand. i literally got tendonitis so bad i had to see a physical therapist and rethink my whole life, and i was hardly able to make actual paintings because it would take so long and the rendering/cleanup process was hell. in 2017 i tried to mitigate the problem by letting myself be messy in both the sketch + painting process. thus the start of the wiggly era.

but it wasnt enough. i still didnt like how much time i was spending on cleanup/rendering. so began my 2018 journey to simplify my sketches and i forced myself to do this by completely removing my ability to use pen pressure by using the binary tool. i also started laying down silhouettes first, which is something i still do to this day.

i’ll admit it was a rough period of time, but i kept at it! i liked how i had more freedom and maneuverability with the painting phase. and eventually i adapted to it and became more comfortable with it and my art started to look and feel decent again.

i became so comfortable with it that i decided it was time to set aside the binary tool and go back to my good old friend the marker tool, because i missed having the ability to make sketches that looked good on their own too. but by now i had the ability to quickly and effectively make sketches that held the bare minimum information i needed to work with.

and right now im really happy with my current art process. its super flexible and im satisfied with splitting up my time as 10% sketch 90% color/painting. plus my hand pain is at an all time minimum! so i guess what im trying to say with all this is that as long as you’re happy with your process and your art, it doesn’t matter how slow or fast you are. if you’re not happy with your process, then by all means try new things. but i dont think speed is in any way an indicator of skill.

“im just unsure how to draw/paint faster without sacrificing the quality of what i'm working on.”

if you dont want to change the way your art looks then there’s no need to force the issue. but if you are still interested in trying to speed up your work, there will most definitely be a dip in quality for a while while you figure things out and learn new techniques, as i think ive shown with my journey. but that dip will be temporary.

as far as how to speed up your work, ive only shown my approach to it and there’s dozens of different ways to do it. some people force themselves to do 5 min / 1 min / 30 second figure studies. other people use multiply/overlay effects to speed up the coloring process. its a highly personal matter and i would recommend asking other artists or looking up tutorials! best of luck and i hope this helps in some small way.

#long post #very very long post lol im so sorry #ask wilt #anon

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avengerscompound · 3 years

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Canvas

Canvas: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1844

Warnings: smut (vaginal sex, messy sex,)

Synopsis: Steve has been painting you for a while. In a lot of ways you’ve been his must. This time, he has decided to use a whole different canvas to practice his art on.

Canvas

The brush was soft and tickled your skin. Paired with the cool, wet paint, it set off a ripple of goosebumps in its wake.

Steve was an artist. You hadn’t known that when you’d first started seeing each other. The serious and stoic Steve Rogers who had devoted his life to protect the world as Captain America didn’t seem to be the soft artistic type.

He had surprised you though. First with the fact he wasn’t as serious as he made himself seem when he was in uniform. He was funny and snarky, and he cared deeply about people.

And he liked to paint.

You’d first discovered his artistic side when you’d woken up to find him sitting on the end of the bed sketching a picture of you sleeping. There was a way about Steve - an open vulnerability - that meant he could get away with doing things like watching you sleep that didn’t feel creepy. There was something romantic about the way that he wanted to capture the moment. Not with a camera to show how it was, but with a pencil to show how it made him feel.

Since that day he’d gotten more and more into his art when he was around you. Your place and his became littered with sketches and drawings, mostly of you, but sometimes just of things that made him feel real. Not the symbol of America, but a real man who wanted a quiet life with someone he loved.

When the painting started, you would sit for him. You were his muse and when you would sit for him, you’d find yourself holding all kinds of unlikely positions, in a variety of different states of undress.

It was a strange feeling being his life model. Sexy. Uncomfortable. Flattering. Safe. The best part was seeing the finished product. It was like getting to see yourself through the eyes of the person who loved you most and there was nothing more intimate than that.

Today Steve was interested in a different canvas.

You stood naked in his home office, a drop cloth below you to capture any stray drops of paint. Steve had his shirt off too, and there were already a few smears of paint on his perfectly sculpted chest. There was something sexy about the look. Like the mess made him seem raw and unbridled in a way Steve rarely was outside of sex and battle.

The brush moved down and around the curve of our breast in a long sweeping motion. You shivered as the cool of the paint sent a tingle up your spine. Your nipples hardened and you weren’t sure if that was only because of the cold. Steve’s eyes drifted from the line of his paint to your breasts and his cheeks turned slightly pink. “Is it very cold?” He asked.

“It’s cold, but I’m not sure that’s the whole problem,” you coyly answered.

The blush deepened in Steve’s cheeks and his tongue glided over his plump bottom lip. “Mm… for me too,” he said and leaned down, pressing his mouth to your breast. Your nipple fit perfectly between his soft lips, and as his tongue swirled over it, you let out a sharp breath.

“Steve…” you sighed, your hand going to his shoulder to steady yourself. He sucked on your tender flesh, his tongue curling around your hardened nipple, and as he pulled back, his teeth grazed over it, making a buzz spiral out under your skin.

He returned his attention to his art, leaving you trembling slightly from the brief interlude. You blinked and shook your head as you tried to focus on the art, rather than the heat building between your legs.

You watched as he added some black to the blue he was painting on your skin, darkening the shade as he filled in the color under your stomach. “What are you painting?” You asked.

“You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he said.

“It’s not a flag, is it?” You asked. “I don’t want you to paint me to look like a flag.”

Steve laughed softly and shook his head. “No. It’s not a flag.”

He dipped his thumb into the purple on his pallet and ran it down between the two shades of blue on your stomach. It tickled and you squirmed away from him a little.

“I need you to try and stay still, sweetheart,” Steve said.

“You try it when someone’s doing this to you,” you teased, and poked him in the abs. He jumped away with a laugh.

“That’s cheating,” he said, grabbing your wrist.

You giggled and he kissed your hand before letting your wrist go again. His fingerprints remained on your skin. Blue spots to mark where he’d held you. You studied them as he returned to painting. Admiring the way they marked how easily his large hands wrapped around your wrists.

You took one of Steve’s spare brushes and dipped it into the red paint.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrow though he didn’t look away from his work.

“Thought I’d do a little bit of body painting too,” you said and pressed your red palm against his chest. When your hand left his body, the perfect impression of your hand was left in scarlet against his pale milk skin.

Steve’s lips quirked at the side and he shook his head. “Very pretty,” he said. “Shall I give you one?”

“Won’t it mess up your design?” You asked.

“I can paint over it,” he said as he began painting his palm with purple paint. “Where should I put this?” He teased, waving it in front of you.

You squealed but your body seemed to curve toward him like it was aching for his touch. He hovered his hand over your breast. “Here?” he whispered and watched as you shivered slightly, pushing your chest out toward him. He licked his lips and moved his hand up to your neck. “Maybe here?”

You swallowed thickly. “Please?”

He moved his hand down around your waist and smacked it down on your ass. It was firm and made a sharp crack as his skin met yours, but it wasn’t painful. You gasped and he dragged your forward, his fingers digging into your ass. “Here?” He said, bringing his lips to yours.

You kissed him hungrily, his other arm curling around your waist. You moaned into his lips and pressed your body against him. You could picture the mark on your ass. His large palm staining your skin purple. His hands slid around your waist, smearing the paint as he moved them, leaving a wet trail up to your ribs. His fingers tightened and he pushed you back against the wall. You submitted to him, melting under his touch. His hands gripped your chest just under your breasts and he dragged them up, breaking the kiss so he could lean down and suck your breasts. You let your head fall back against the wall and wrapped a leg around him, pulling your bare cunt against his clothed crotch. His cock was hard and strained against the thick fabric of his khakis. You cunt smeared your fluids on his jeans as the friction drew them from you, sending a hot tingle spiraling out through you.

He sucked and bit at your breasts like a hungry man. Dutifully moving from one to the other and back again, sending a dull ache down to your core.

“Steve,” you moaned. “I need you.”

He groaned and spun you guiding you back to the tarp and knocking his paints to the floor so they splattered over the drop cloth. He lay you down, ignoring the paint as it pooled around your body. You put your hands in the wet mess and watched as he hurriedly unfastened his pants. As he positioned himself above you, you spread your legs wide and wrapped your arms around him, welcoming him in and marking him as your own.

He was kissing you again, hard and passionately. You matched him, bringing your tongue to meet his and swirling it around. He lined himself up and with a hard thrust, he was inside you. You gasped arching up into him as an eclectic pulse passed through your body. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, he just began thrusting into you again and again. The head of his cock hitting your cervix and sending sharp jolts through you again and again.

You cried out and bunched your hands in his hair. The paint on your hands clung to the strands, sticking them together and making them stick up in clumps. You could feel your climax building, and you nudged him. He took the hint flipping you over.

The paint you’d been lying in dripped down your back onto his thighs. He smeared his hands through it and then used it to finger paint on your body as you rode him. You started slowly, swirling your hips like you were doing a seated dance, his cock moving inside you and pressing against your walls. You began to move faster, bouncing on his cock. Steve groaned as he watched you, his hands caressing his body. Faster and faster you moved, up and down, up and down. Sweat mixed with the paint as you chased your orgasm. Steve began to snap his hips up into you, your bodies slapping together each time you connected.

He pushed you back, first so you were seated face to face, you sitting in his lap, and then pushing you back on the floor again. He pushed your legs up so they were pressed against your chest. His cock penetrated you so deeply you thought it was going to split you in two. You cried out and your orgasm hit, shuddering through you and making all your muscles seize up. Steve kept thrusting, fucking you through it, and as he reached his own climax, he pulled out pumping his cock in his fist and releasing, spattering your stomach and chest with thick white ropes that stood out against the rainbow of paint.

You lay back panting as you came down from your orgasm high and Steve lay down beside you. “God, you’re beautiful,” he sighed.

“We ruined your art,” you said, looking down at yourself.

“I think we made it better,” he said. “I know I’m going to remember you like this for a long time. My gorgeous artwork.”

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you deeply and tenderly. You closed your eyes and hummed, relaxing into it. When he pulled back he smiled at you. “We really should go shower.”

You giggled and Steve helped you to stand. He looked down at the drop sheet below him and smiled. “I think I might frame that,” he said.

You looked down at the colors. They swirled together, but you could see everywhere the two of you had touched. You liked the idea of hanging it in the apartment. A permanent reminder of what you and Steve had.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #canvas

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fangirlovestuff · 4 years

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Butterfly Effect - Steve Rogers x reader

a/n - Hey lovely people! this is for @holylulusworld‘s 10,000 followers celebration, congrats!! (even though you have a lot more now lol). the divider is by the amazing @firefly-graphics. italics are for thoughts / flashbacks, and the first parts are all in chronological order. Enjoy!<3

Summary: The words on Steve’s arm point to the circumstances in which he will meet his soulmate, and they’re very specific, or so he thinks.

Prompt: 11 - soulmate AU

Word Count: ~2,070

Warnings: reader gets a tatoo but basically this is just a huge fluff fest:)

"That's a cute owl you're drawing there."

These are the words that were imprinted on Steve's arm since the moment he was born. When Steve could finally read, he asked his mother why are the words there.

"These words are very important," Sarah explained. "They are the first words your soulmate will ever say to you."

"What's a soulmate?" asked a confused Steve.

"A soulmate," his mother answered, "is someone you're gonna love very much. They're the person you'd probably choose to spend the rest of your life with. Their soul is connected to yours in inexplicable ways, almost as if they were one and the same. This," she pointed at the words, "is the sign for you to realize when you'll meet them. Somewhere out there, there's someone with the first words you're gonna say to them."

"So I'll be drawing an owl when I meet my soulfriend?" Steve asked.

"It's soulmate, dear. And I guess you probably will."

"And this… soulmate, will they buy me ice cream?" Steve asked hopefully, not quite getting the point.

Sarah giggled at her son. "Yes, I think they will if you'd want that. But also, they would love you so much, and you'll have the most fun in the world with them."

"Was da your soulmate?" Steve asked.

"He is," his mother answered, the smile on her face tinged with a little sadness that Steve hadn't picked up on.

Okay, so two round eyes, and then the body, and I should add some feathers and –

"Mr. Rogers!" the math teacher said sternly. "I haven’t assigned any equations yet, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep your attention on me instead of your notebook, for now."

"Yes, Ms. Williams," Steve replied sheepishly.

"You know you've already met everyone in this class right? No one here is your soulmate," Bucky whispered once their teacher turned back to the board.

"But I still want to get better at it," Steve shrugged defensively. "She's gonna say it's cute, Buck. For that to happen it needs to actually be cute."

"I don't get your whole fuss around soulmates Steve, but whatever. Suit yourself," Bucky rolled his eyes.

"You don't believe in soulmates?" Steve asked.

"Well, I wouldn't strictly say that, it's just… my words are 'watch it, weirdo.' Call me crazy, but I'm not that stoked to find that person," Bucky chuckled.

"Mr. Barnes! Something to share with the rest of us?" Ms. Williams said.

"No Ms. Williams, I'm sorry," Bucky said timidly and Steve snickered.

Steve could draw owls in his sleep if he needed to. Right now, his pencil was sketching over the page, lightly shading the wings of the owl and the –

"Rogers! You're on in five!" the stage manager called out to him.

Steve sighed and snapped his sketchbook shut. He kept hoping that maybe it was one of the girls on tour with him, but so far it wasn't going so well. The government-mandated entertainment had quite enough free time so Steve could draw as many owls as he wanted to in between shows.

He put the notebook aside and slipped on the cowl they had him wear. The Captain was needed on stage.

"So people take art classes… for fun?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"Yeah," Natasha answered. "Lately you're always drawing away in your little notebook, so if you want to, I could help you sign up for a class. Maybe they can teach an old dog some new tricks," she smirked.

"Ha ha," Steve answered dryly. Yet he couldn't help considering the idea.

The thing was, Steve wasn't sure if his soulmate was still out there to be found. You'd think he would feel a difference, some indication if his soulmate was dead, but when he went out of the ice, Steve felt nothing different. There was still a part of him that was hoping that maybe, just maybe, fate planned this. That his soulmate was still out there.

"That's a great color scheme, Steve," the instructor said, and Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Thanks," he smiled, albeit a tad shakily.

This was the fifth class Steve took this month, and yet, no luck. He wasn't even drawing an owl, and yet the start of that sentence made him jump as if he didn't have super… well, everything.

But that doesn't mean he was giving up. His tattoo was still in place, even after all of these years, it hadn't faded. So he had to believe he could still find his soulmate.

These times were a lot more different than his. People here weren't always inclined to live by that philosophy of "soulmates". Some people chose to simply disregard that and find someone they loved regardless. Steve admired that, but he couldn't say he understood. If you're offered your perfect partner, why walk out of that?

"It's called instant gratification," Nat chuckled when he raised that question to her. "People like to have what they want as soon as possible. Besides, some people don't believe it's real, or don't believe it'll work for them. So, they take matters into their own hands."

Steve was more patient than the average person. He waited decades in ice, what's a few more years to find his soulmate?

Bucky had found his soulmate. Steve couldn't believe it.

Sure, he was happy for Bucky. When he came back today from the store with nothing but a small slip of paper, Steve had half a mind to smack him upright the head for not getting anything. Probably forgot his wallet.

But when Bucky showed him the paper he read the words scribbled onto it – "call me, weirdo, xx" and a phone number, Steve pulled Bucky into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

"Congrats, pal," he smiled.

Bucky beamed. Yes, Bucky Barnes, the terrifying Winter Soldier was beaming and his eyes were shining like a high-schooler in love. And Steve wished that could've been him.

He really was happy for Bucky. That's the thing – this was a good thing. Besides from his best friend finding the love of his life, it also meant that Steve's soulmate is almost definitely out there. But he couldn't help feeling a spark of resentment deep inside of him. It made him feel guilty, but he couldn't help the bitter thought that Bucky was never too keen on finding his soulmate while Steve did everything in his power to find them. And yet, Bucky found his while Steve's still in the dark.

So, to get out of his own head a little, Steve decided to go paint in the park.

To be honest, it was a wonder that Steve hadn't gotten awfully tired of drawing by now. But he still loved it, loved the quiet it cultivated in his mind.

Steve set up a canvas and looked around. People weren't noticing him, busy in their own endeavors. He almost started drawing an owl out of instinct, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Steve wanted to forget about the whole soulmate business for a while and just draw.

He saw a butterfly fly over and land on a nearby bush. Steve focused on the butterfly, trying to remember as much as he can. The rest he can improvise. The butterfly fluttered its wings for a few seconds before flying away.

Steve started drawing the butterfly. Once he had the pencil sketch, he started filling it in with the paints he had brought. He started with the little circles on its wings, filling them in so the shade will be just right, and he was about to move on to the rest on the wings when –

"That's a cute owl you're drawing there."

"It's a butterfly," Steve turned around, puzzled, before realizing what you had just said to him.

Your mouth opened in a gentle gasp. Your hair and clothes were a little messy from your long day at work. And at that moment, when you were caught completely off guard, Steve first met you. You were the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on, and he was an artist. He stared at you in utter shock while you returned him a similar look.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" your friend asked, sitting next to you with a worried look.

"I'm tired of looking for my soulmate. Do you know how hard it is to make conversation about butterflies?" you looked back at her. "I want to do this," you told her.

The tattoo artist came closer. "Okay ma'am, you wanted a simple butterfly, right?"

"Yes," you answered decisively. "On my left wrist." Your right hand had your words on it. "It's a butterfly." Maybe if you had a tattoo your soulmate would see it, would find you.

You closed your eyes and braced for what came next.

You weren't sure about this blind date thing, but why not. You trusted your friend that she set you up with a nice guy, at least.

You set up to meet in a park, and from there walk to a nearby restaurant. Right when the guy showed up, there was a butterfly next to you.

"What’s that?" you asked quickly, pointing towards it.

Your date turned his head to look, but by the time he did the butterfly was already flying away. "I don't know, it was probably a bug or something."

You stifled your groan of disappointment. At least you'd get a dinner out of this.

You and Steve were staring at each other in amazement. Finally, you were the one to speak up. "You're Steve Rogers," you said, frowning in disbelief.

"And you're my… soulmate," he returned the same disbelieving look.

You introduced yourself quickly, smiling at him timidly when you finished.

"So, you wanna get ice cream or something?" Steve asked, unsure of what exactly to do. But apparently he said exactly the right thing, because your face lit up.

"Right now though? You're in the middle of your painting and I wouldn't wanna –"

"It doesn't matter," Steve said quickly and stashed the canvas and paints underneath a bench nearby. "No one passes here anyways," he shrugged. "Until today," he smiled and you giggled.

You made your way to an ice cream shop across the street from the park, walking side by side.

"So, what is the great Captain America doing drawing owl-looking butterflies in a local park?" you asked, smiling.

"I was just looking to clear my head a little," Steve said dismissively. "To be honest, the fact that you didn't find me drawing an actual owl is very ironic, looking back," Steve chuckled. "I spent pretty much my entire life drawing owls, attending painting classes, anything I could to find you," his gaze met yours and he smiled softly. "And I find you in a random park while drawing a butterfly."

"Don't underestimate nature's camouflage," you chuckled. "And hey, you think that's ironic? Butterflies are so scarce I got this," you rolled up your left sleeve a little, revealing your butterfly tattoo.

Steve's eyes widened. "It's beautiful," he automatically reached out to trace the lines on your arm, then withdraws his arm when he understands what he's doing. "It's not as beautiful as you," he says with a smile on his face.

You avert your eyes to the ground in front of you. "Thank you," you bashfully say.

You and Steve got your ice cream, and you exchanged plenty of stories of your adventures in search of each other, most of which were devastating when they happened but when you look back at them now, they were actually pretty funny.

"I hope I can see you again," Steve said when it was getting a little late.

He looked so hopeful, but the question in itself made you want to laugh at the obviousness of the answer. Instead, you rose onto your tiptoes, and planted your lips on his soft ones in a sweet kiss.

Once you parted you took a napkin and wrote down your number. "I sure hope to see you soon," you smiled.

"I'll call you, butterfly," Steve grinned and you beamed at the nickname.

And that night you both went home with huge smiles smeared across your faces. Finally, your quest to find your soulmate was at an end, and you could start a new journey, together.

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000

if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#lulu's 10k follower challenge #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #soulmate au

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thestarswhim · 3 years

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You know, with Animaniacs having been getting a whole lot more attention again, and with me and my sis reading Scoob and Shag, it got us thinking about what the Warners’ ballyhoos might be. 👁️👁️

So, please take a seat, get comfortable, and read what me and my sister have come up with~

Our first idea was that their ballyhoos would be connected in some way which I'll expand more on as we go. For now, I'll explain how each of theirs work.

Starting with,

✨Yakko Warner✨

Ballyhoo: "Manifest Melody"

As we've seen, this fella likes to sing and tries to at any given opportunity. A lot of songs when it comes to these types of cartoons are either informational, or just tell it how it is (i.e, the events that are happening at the moment, what a character is feeling, like telling a story; basically a musical to put it all simply).

So, whatever Yakko sings, it'll basically happen. If he sung about an anvil falling on someone's head, well then an anvil will appear out of nowhere and fall on that person's head, if they don't manage to dodge in time, that is.

He can only go as far as manifesting physical things into reality and being able to alter the area in some ways (if he were to sing about someone about to fall into a ditch, then a random ditch can suddenly appear in the ground and the character would most likely fall in).

It’s possible he could change the way someone feels. The character would still have full control of themselves, but if Yakko were to sing about how sad and frustrated they must be feeling, then their emotions would embrace that feeling which would possibly make it harder for the character to focus on what they were doing before.

Yakko can’t, however, make it so that he could instantly win. Singing about a character losing won’t just make a character lose, it’ll take a lot more than that, sadly (he doesn’t mind, though, it wouldn’t be fun that way lol). He can’t just make a character simply die, either.

So, it’s all based on physical things, and he’d only be able to affect a character themselves by emotions alone. If he wanted to physically hurt the character or something like that, he would have to sing out about that anvil or that ditch in the ground, etc.

His singing has to have a flow with the words and rhythm and such, because if it doesn’t, then it simply won’t work. Whatever he made happen while he was singing will reset after he stops using his ballyhoo (meaning, whatever items were there would go away, but stuff like the ditch would stay. It is only physical objects that would disappear). It’s similar to how once a song is over, everything that happened during it would kinda be dismissed and the characters would move on as if they didn’t just have the grandest dance number in the middle of the street.

Of course, the best way to stop him would be to just find a way to keep his mouth shut which many find difficult because it’s flippin’ Yakko Warner.

All right!! His took a lot to explain, but the next two will be more shorter. ^^

Next sibling is...

✨Wakko Warner✨

Ballyhoo: "Infinite Crave”

It's literally like how Kirby works: his stomach is a huge, never ending, spatial void, a whole other dimension.

Wakko can eat anything and it'll just, y'know, stay in that stomach of a void until he brings it out whenever he wants. It's like a hammerspace except that hammerspace is his stomach LOL

He could spit things out like bullets if he wanted to, and yes, he could inhale things up like a vacuum.

The possibilities on how he'd use it are endless~

He only has a void when he's using his ballyhoo, other than that he has a regular ol' stomach.

Wow that was much shorter LOL, I'm sure there's more to be said, but for now we'll keep it as is. 👍

And now, last, but definitely not least...

✨Dot Warner✨

Ballyhoo: "Lady's Purse"

We both noticed that Dot is the one to use her hammerspace the most (at least in the reboot). She just whips out whatever at any given time. So, we thought she would be the one who perfects the technique of the whole thing; has a better grip on the concept.

Just like a lady's purse, anything can be in it, and so Dot could have anything on her, and bring it out however. Her main weapon is obviously her trademark hammer.

Just for fun she would bring out the smallest, slimmest hand purse ever and take out a car out of it or something just ironically huge and bulky.

Her "hammerspace" isn't as vast as Wakko's "whole other dimension," but whatever she can think of, she's able to bring out (while Wakko has to collect all his stuff externally and store them up).

She can only bring out items, objects, and the like. It can't be an actual person, if anything, it'd be a figurine of the person or something. 😂

Whatever she brings out can't be placed back because, though she can use whatever items as they should be used, they're only basically based on her imagination, so once she uses it, it'll just poof away afterwards, as if it didn't exist (similar to what would happen with Yakko). Just like how certain gags work in cartoons.

If she didn't want to worry about an item being poofed away, she'd use whatever Wakko's got as he can keep using the same items over and over again since he'd just bring whatever out, and after he's done, eat it.

Okay! After describing everyone individually, lets talk about how they could be connected in certain ways.

I kind of already explained it in Dot’s section how she would sometimes use whatever Wakko has got, and mostly he’d have to bring whatever item out and she’d use it.

Buuut, she’s also able to connect to Wakko’s “dimension” and use whatever items from there by taking it out of her own “Lady’s Purse.” It only works when they’re both together, so if they’re separated, she won’t be able to do that.

It’s a good trick to use on an “enemy” if said enemy already knew about how Dot’s ballyhoo worked and be surprised when whatever item she brought out doesn’t poof afterwards.

It’s the same case with Yakko. If he had to get specific about some things, and if Wakko was with him, then Yakko could bring out whatever items from Wakko just by singing, and it would pop up wherever Yakko sings it would pop up (no need for Wakko to spit it out, yaaay). The items used from Wakko would then stay after, like I said with Dot.

Basically, Wakko’s their storage unit LOL And so they’re all aware with what Wakko has stored, but only when they’re together.

Nothing is different when it’s Yakko and Dot, but they do work well together (despite all the arguments that may ensue). She joins in on the singing, helping things happen with her in the mix of it, and it also helps her think up some items to use. Of course, Wakko joins in on the singing, too, and all three of them are just nuisances and we love them.

They’re also more aware meta wise when all three are together. They might notice a speech bubble once in awhile, or look to the audience like they’re in The Office, but it’s nothing serious, they just have fun with it.

Also, I’m pretty sure being locked in the tower would do things.

ANYWHO That’s all! I’m sorry if this looks all messy, or if I didn’t explain things well enough, we’re still figuring out some things in the process ourselves, but I think we got the general thing out all in all.

With all that said, YA WANT SOME ART MADE BY MY WONDERFUL SISTER? These are just sketches more so on their designs, and she gave the okay to show them! :D

Warning: instances of blood are shown

She said she might draw more stuff for it, and I'll force her to make an account LOL (/lh), so tune in next time!!

Goodnight, everybody!!

#scoob and shag #webtoon #animaniacs #ballyhoo #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #fanart #headcanon #yakko wakko and dot #tw blood

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bakugoukatsuki-rising · 3 years

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I'm. The new covers, op. The new covers. Gosh. Both of them hold so much symbolism. And technically they both are canon, they are both original ideas that could perfectly be valid. Horikoshi simply found something better. But anyways, I'm going to go ahead and ramble about it because Im- Op, prepare for a long ask! Hope you like it!

So!

On the one where Katsuki's the one in the picture, he's not on his knees like he is in the other two covers. Instead, he has his face down, body forward, one hand on one leg, the other one holding out for something...He's bowing. Bowing in Japanese culture is a pretty big deal. Hes not just tilting his head a bit, his head and body are on full on commitment.

Such a tilted bow means a LOT, specially from THIS guy, Mr dont let anyone walk in front of me. Even more when hes not just bowing, but accepting such an open display of given help, Mr shonen anime lone wolf. Accepting something he always has trouble admitting to. Accepting the past, accepting the wrongs. Accepting Izukus help means so much, and that's what these three covers have in common.

His hand is sctretching out. He's ready to say yes to that hand out in the air.

(Ps. I wonder if he's watching his own reflection on the water in this panel, as well?)

Hes in middle of the picture with those childhood friend at the back, which means audience. It means letting people see what hes done, what he's sorry for. He is being open and exposed and vulnerable. That's no fighting stance.

Remember guys, in case you haven't noticed before, Horikoshi puts lots of metaphorical value in his manga and on his covers. Sometimes you've got to dig in deep and think to get the bigger picture. And in this case, the bigger picture screams regret and wanting to make things right from the start.

This cover occurs in the past, at the moment where everything started, and Katsuki fully remembers this. Katwuki has thought of this, is thinking about this. He's had eye bags for gods sake, he's clearly troubled by all of what it means.

These three covers are the visual explanation of what's going on inside Katsuki's head, because this is clearly focused on him and his perspective.

(Ps. Rivers symbolise the massage of time. If that doesnt add to everything else, I dont know what to tell you.)

So! Next!

Wow, if this isnt one of my favourite things ever. Okay. Christ.

I have two options here. Scratch that, three options. Scream into the void, scream into this post, or actually make a good presentation of my inner turmoil. I'll have to go by the third option. (Haha. Just like horikoshi did. Dont # me, I'm funny in my head.)

This cover melted my insides, froze them all over, and hit me with them like a hammer.

I know they're kids, but let me get this straight-so kids seriously look at their friends with these looks in their eyes and think "ah, yes. This is my very good friend. This gentle smile and kind look I'm giving him as if he was my whole world? Well, hes just a very good friend."

I looked at my childhood crush this way, I dont know what to tell you.

Anyway, let's actually jump to the information at hand.

This panel seems like it's making a reference to what Katsuki wishes could have been. And if that's not absolutely soul-crushing...this cover is Katsuki's feelings, guys. These are probably his very thoughts. This scene has gone through Katsuki's head at some point.

We've got Izuku in his stuck up pose all over again, in just an awkward angle. It's like katsuki isnt looking AT this katsuki right now, but at the spot where the actual past Katsuki, at some point, was. As if this Isuku is frozen in time. Dont believe too much in this paragraph, I still have my doubts about that, but I feel it's a possibility. Izukus eyes seem to be focused on the water, while Katsuki is just the tiniest bit back, reaching for Izukus hand. And gosh.

I dont think I've ever seen older NOR child Katsuki have this look plasted into his face before. He's...sheepish. Kindly, awkwardly sheepish. No hate, no anger, no shame, no nothing. His face is clear and sweet and has this "Whoops. You got me. But thanks." kind of expression on.

The hand behind his head, just the tiniest but embarassed? That little smile? It's all so soft.

Rambling about softness though- I really liked the hand scene in this particular panel. If you close up your view, you realise that theres no effort to pull anyone out of nowhere. In this panel, they are simply holding hands in frozen time for no purpose at all.

Katsuki has his hand around Izuku...simply holding there.

Again, because the angle is awkward, it's kind of messy, but you get the point.

It's all simply beautiful. Horikoshi clean likes give me life.

And lastly. The actual cover.

I screeched so hard when I saw this. My first instinct when seeing this for the first time was to straight up go trigger happy fingers and write about it to my friends. Christ.

Everything is so...SOft. horikoshi made a good decision by mixing both previous drawings in one. We have parts of the two covers in one, which is amazing. In this one, Katsuki isnt alone, as Izuku's there too. But we dont have the audience either. Probably because the main focus on this panel is no one else except them two.

Again, Katsuki looks like he's bowing, but instead of looking all the way down, he's in the middle. Not looking at Izuku nor looking at the ground, like it shows in the previous covers. Instead, Horikoshi found a middle ground. He's looking at his hand. At the gesture.

Hes not holding hands quite yet, but his hand is there. At arms reach. Not close enough but there. Wanting.

Theres so much regret and again, softness.

Again, like you Op said a bit bad, the angle is off here. This is present Katsuki remembering his past. The angle is off because this Izuku isnt holding out for our Katsuki. This is a memory. A wish. Katsuki's wish.

(Ps. Izukus trousers drenched in the rivers water. This detail was so nice. It's a subtle action that describes Izukus characterization so much. Izuku went in the river with Katsuki in mind, not caring if he got his clothes soaked in the process too. For Izuku, only Katsuki was there. And for Katsuki, only Izuku is.

As a plus, I can't believe the cover of this is literally called Bakugou Katsuki rising. They named the entire thing after that one chapter. Actually, I very much, totally believe it. It's the moment so many people have been waiting for, after all. The moment so many scenes have been amounting for, little by little.

*dreamy sigh*

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little thing, I had to get it out of my system and dont want to bother my dear friends anymore than needed.

Have a good day, OP! I'll stay updated!

You kinda just...took my heart and curb stomped it, not gonna lie. Your observations are so beautiful and so accurate. The sketch with little Bakugou taking Izuku’s hand is so...raw, and yeah, that expression is definitely one of love. Those eyes, the way he is HOLDING Izuku’s hand, not TAKING it. He isn’t taking it to stand up, he is literally just...holding it.

That isn’t the way you take someone’s hand when you’re trying to pull yourself up. It’s an awkward angle and just...wouldn’t work right. No, he is literally just holding his hand, and that’s exactly what Bakugou wishes he did all that time ago. He wishes that he not only took Deku’s hand, but held onto it. Held it as if it were something precious, something to be cared for and protected.

These are Bakugou’s true feelings expressed in these drawings, and I think Horikoshi released them on purpose, to show us more of what he wanted Bakugou to be feelings through all of this. Since after all, we know that Bakugou expresses himself in action, not so much words. And because Horikoshi is an absolute genius, he thought to give us these other glimpses in how he feels through these actions.

And the other sketch with him bowing his body to Izuku, and the way the log looks like it’s on his back with his ‘friends’ on top of it.

The pressure of needing to be the coolest, the strongest, the best. Those kids put that kind of pressure on him, even if they never realized it. They encouraged his behavior and fed his ego, and it never allowed him to see how he was wrong. But now he is realizing it, and he is bowing himself in light of that acknowledgement. He is lowering his head and putting his pride away, so he can get back what he lost all those years ago; the opportunity to take Izuku’s hand.

To take the hand of the only one of those kids that ever loved him unconditionally. Who never pressured him or expected him to be invincible. Who saw all of his flaws and was completely prepared to support him despite all of it. The only one.

I’m just a mess over all of this, and I am so incredibly thankful to Horikoshi for creating this beautiful relationship. AND IN A SHOUNEN MANGA, NONETHELESS!!

Thank you friend, for your beautiful thoughts. I think they’re spot on, and I am so emotional all over again because of this.

#bnha spoilers #bnha #mha #bkbk #bakudeku #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #kacchan #deku #bnha meta #bnha analysis #blackiee-is-heree #asks #basketball idiot #basketball idiot replies

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mister-supernova · 3 years

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If I Saw You on the Street

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader - Platonic Josie Saltzman x Reader

After Malivore

For as long as you could remember, summer vacation was your absolute favorite time of the year. To your surprise, it’s actually been a huge drag for you this year. It wasn’t like this was the worst summer ever--you could think of a few others that could take that spot--but there was definitely something off that you couldn’t piece together.

For instance, no one has any idea as to how Landon destroyed Malivore, not even Landon himself. That whole day seemed to be a huge blur to all of the students. You remembered the bigger events like the school defeating Triad, but everyone seems to struggle when it comes to the smaller details.

In order to keep yourself busy, you decided to stay at the school and take a summer job at the Mystic Grill. Besides the fact that everyone else was back home with their families, the whole school had this off-putting sense of emptiness. The place has magic in the walls for crying out loud, you usually feel some sense of liveliness.

There was this one room in particular that you felt strangely drawn to. You had no idea why since you knew that no one stayed in that room this past year. At least, no one you knew anyways.

One day out of pure curiosity, you picked the lock to that room to see what was special about it.

Just as you expected, it was just a regular empty dorm that was probably going to be taken up by a new student during the fall. It looked like every other bedroom at the school, but this one felt familiar.

Something that caught you off guard was the scent that faintly lingered in the room. The best way you could describe it was something floral with a hint of sweetness and spice--vanilla and cinnamon maybe--and it wasn’t like anything else you had smelled in the school before.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave for the longest time. The urge to stay and wander trumped over the obvious choice that was to walk away.

Something happened here, you thought.

A few small drops of pastel blue paint chips stained the wooden floorboards and you wondered how the hell they got there given the rooms have white walls.

Instead of questioning it any deeper, you just assumed that a student who had this room before must’ve gotten the paint on the floor and the janitors hadn’t noticed it.

But how could they have missed that?

You stood there for what felt like hours, trying to piece together what it was that made this place have this unexplainable affect on you. You could’ve stayed there for the rest of the day digging through your brain for an answer that would never come.

At the end of the day, you knew nothing would come to mind no matter how hard you tried. It was like the answer was at the tip of your tongue, but your mind was radio silent.

Frustrated and defeated, you had to force yourself to leave the strange room. After that, you made yourself forget about that place completely for the rest of the summer and refused to ever return to it.

Whenever you weren’t at work, you spent time with Landon, Josie, and a wolfed-out Rafael which was fine in the beginning. Dorian gave you permission to shift in the woods on full moons for the summer so that Raf could talk to somebody and you guys could possibly get information on how to help him.

He definitely appreciated the company that you could provide, but alas he had no idea on how he could be turned back.

The happier times were the nights you four had weekly movie nights by the Old Mill. You all would alternate who would pick the movie to watch and Landon absolutely hated that you chose a horror movie every single time, but you loved hearing the phoenix boy screech with terror. Josie would get a good kick out of it, too and you were positive that you’d see Raf wag his tail every time Landon screamed.

During those small moments, things felt like they could possibly get back to normal, but once you stepped foot back in the school, you were lost again.

Your thoughts were much louder through the night. It would get so bad that you could barely get any sleep and the times that you would, you’d wake up screaming from a night terror.

There was one night when you were tossing and turning, you knocked on Josie’s door to ask if she knew some kind of incantation to get you to fall asleep. You were up for anything at that point, even letting her swing a frying pan over your head to knock you out.

Not wanting to hurt you or possibly kill you, Josie made you some sleepytime tea instead which actually helped a lot. It didn’t help so much with the vivid dreams you’ve been having, but you thought that it was better than getting no sleep at all.

Everything felt like it was going decently well until Raf decided to bow out once Josie and Landon started getting close. You wanted to curse at him for making you the third wheel, but you understood that he couldn’t wait here forever for some solution that could help him become human again. He had to move on somehow, especially seeing that his best friend seemed to be moving on, too.

Regardless, you started feeling awkward hanging out with just the two of them. They wanted to include you during their weekly movie nights, but you’d just make up some excuse that you had to be up early for work the next morning.

Landon--damn him for knowing your work schedule--could tell that you were bullshitting, but he didn’t want to force you into doing something you didn’t want to do.

You tried busying yourself with other activities like running through the woods, canoeing in the lake, taking extra shifts at work, binge eating all the good snacks in the kitchen; you even got yourself into drawing and painting for some weird reason, but no matter what you did, there was still something missing.

Towards the end of the summer, you didn’t feel like your usual jokester self. Sure, you’d throw out a line of sarcasm or make a witty comment here and there, but most of it would sound forced. You’d mainly do it so that Josie and Landon wouldn’t worry about you so much, but Josie quickly picked up on your facade.

They really wanted to help you figure out what was making you feel this way, but as much as you appreciate their help, there was nothing they could do. How could they figure out what was wrong if you didn’t even know for yourself?

One day after your shift at work, you decided to do something you never in your wildest dreams thought you would ever do.

You started cleaning your room.

Josie volunteered to help even though you assured her you’d be fine doing it alone. She bribed you by saying she’d buy you a milkshake if you let her help, so without another word, you agreed to let her stay and assist.

“Gosh, do you throw out any of your old assignments?” Josie asks as she rummages through your desk drawers, “This is an algebra one paper from three years ago, Y/n,” she says, flashing your old homework assignment with a huge F circled in the front.

“Hey, less judging and more cleaning.” You say, digging through your dresser for clothes you don’t wear anymore.

“Did you try writing a reminder for a history test or something?”

You furrow your eyebrows before turning to look at Jo, “What do you mean?”

“You have this post-it note that says “Don’t forget H”, but that’s all that’s written,” she holds up the note and from the other side of your bed, you read exactly what she had said.

It definitely looked like you tried scribbling another letter after the H, but it ended up being a long messy squiggle, “Uh, I don’t know,” you shrug, “Probably. I must’ve been half asleep when I wrote it though because I have no clue when I did that.”

Josie puffs her lip out in confusion, “Well. I would be surprised by that, but judging by the ten cans of energy drinks I just tossed out, it’s not so surprising to hear that your memory is a little fuzzy.”

You drop your jaw in shock, “Is today Judge Y/n Day and I wasn’t made aware of it? You asked to help clean my room Jo, now save your judgments for another day please.”

Josie playfully rolls her eyes at you, followed by a small chuckle, “Toss?” She asks, ready to crumple the piece of paper up. You take a second to answer back, wondering whether or not if you did forget some history assignment or maybe something even bigger than that.

“Sure,” you feel your stomach churn seeing her throw the note in the trash bag, but there was no taking it back now.

Another few minutes of silence pass until Josie speaks up, “Since when do you draw?”

You look back up from your clothes to see Jo now holding up a sketchbook you snagged at the lost and found a few weeks ago. It was brand new and untouched, so you thought to yourself “why not?”.

After explaining that to Josie, she flipped through some of the first few pages. You were no Leonardo DiCaprio--or whatever that painter guy’s name was--but you thought you were decent with your sketches.

“These are really good, Y/n. Did you just think of these by yourself?” She asks, talking about the drawings you had of a girl you’ve been seeing in your dreams.

You could only see parts of the girl’s face. Mostly you’ve only been able to clearly see features like her eyes and hair, so most of the pages were taken up by a pair of blue eyes and waves of auburn hair.

“Not really. I’ve been having these really vivid dreams lately.” You tell Josie.

“This is who you see?” She looks down at the pages again, “Who is that? She doesn't look like anyone we know.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either. She’s all I’ve been seeing, though.”

“Well, it looks like you’ve found yourself a hidden talent.” Josie smiles, gently setting the book back down on the desk, “And maybe she’s your soulmate,” she teases.

You just roll your eyes with a small smile and get back to your tasks.

Like a girl that beautiful could even exist let alone talk to me, you think to yourself.

As you continue sorting through your clothes, you notice a pair of sweats that look almost smaller than half your size.

“Uh, Jo?” She turns to your attention, “These aren’t yours, are they?”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “How short do you think I am? I think my legs are a little longer than whoever those are.”

“Well, they’re not mine, obviously. How’d they get into my drawer?”

“Maybe they belonged to whoever lived in this dorm before you?” Josie shrugs.

“But the dresser was completely empty when I moved in,” you think for a moment, now questioning everything, “At least, I thought it was. I would think that I would’ve taken these out if they were here. Why would I keep a pair of sweatpants that I don’t fit in?”

“You do a lot of questionable things, you know. Like that one time you jumped through a bonfire wondering how hot it really was or when you tried to do a backflip off the roof of the school and into the pool or the time you “drank” a beer through your-”

You raise your hands in surrender and cut her off before she could finish, “Okay, I get it! I do stupid shit. The sweatpants belonged to whoever lived in here before I moved in and I didn’t take them out of the drawer. Case closed. Swiftly moving on.”

You were positive they weren’t there when you moved in, but there weren’t any other reasons you could think of as to how they got into your dresser.

Seconds before you tossed it back into the bottom of your drawer, your nose barely caught the same sweet and spicy floral scent that you recalled smelling in the strange room. Breathing it in again brought back that memory of being mentally lost in that room, but oddly enough this time it made you feel calm.

After another hour passed you and Josie ended up filling three bags of trash, one of them recycled trash, and one large donation box of clothes.

You didn’t waste any time reminding her that she owed you a milkshake. She kind of hoped that you would’ve forgotten about your deal, but she was a woman of her word.

You made a “compromise” to take your box of clothes over to the donating center on the other side of the town square while Josie bought the milkshakes.

Your task was a lot quicker than Josie’s since it was pretty much rush hour at the Grill right now, so you waited for her on one of the benches in the square.

Sitting by yourself with nothing else to do but wait, you couldn’t help but feel that empty feeling return. The emptiness never hit you all at once, but it definitely drained the hell out of you.

Again, you felt stumped. Like there’s somewhere you should be or something you should be doing or someone you should be with. You knew Josie was going to be back any minute, but that wasn’t what was missing.

You anxiously looked toward the Mystic Grill, feeling your breaths becoming more and more shallow as every second passes. You started wishing Josie would walk out so that all your worries could just go away.

Then--almost like you knew right where to look--your gaze stopped when you noticed someone looking at you from where you just came from on the other side of the town square.

You couldn’t make out her facial features from so far away, but it was the auburn color of her hair that stuck out to you more than anything. For a moment--and just for a moment--all the weight that had been weighing on your shoulders this summer felt much lighter and everything felt okay again.

“One cookies and cream milkshake,” Josie’s voice startles you and you face her abruptly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, lending you your milkshake.

“No, you’re good. I was just…” you look back to the spot you saw the girl only to find that she was gone, “I was just lost in thought.”

You had no idea what just happened or how you seemed to have possibly seen the girl from your dreams, but just a glimpse of her made you feel more emotions than you have all summer long. Because of that, a huge part of you hoped that you would see her again.

heyyyyyy beautiful people! thanks for over 100 likes on This Isn’t Goodbye you guys gals and nb pals! i’m super super happy that you’ve been enjoying this series so far! still have no idea how many more parts this will be just yet lol but i really appreciate every one of you for the love <3

*also the title was inspired by the song Dreams Tonite by Alvvays in case you were curious ;)*

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #legacies imagine #legacies x reader #legacies cw #legacies

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innocent-chris-evans-slut · 4 years

Text

The Assistant - Part Two

My Masterlist ✨

Series: Personal Assistant - Part Two

Summary: Y/N is Ransom Dysdale’s assistant. She’s the closest person to him and spends everyday with him at his house. Usually she gets in at nine o’clock and makes sure everything is perfect. One day he doesn’t want to get up and Y/N goes in his room. She finds a surprise.

Type (this part): smut, maybe a little of fluff!Ransom at the end

Words count: 3,7k

Warning(s): fingering, sex toys, dirty talk, overstimulation

“F-fuck…” you moaned as you felt his tip pressed against your folds, “Please”, you shut your eyes when he entered you -slowly, yet firmly.

His palms were placed at the sides of your head and you could feel his eyes on you face, inspecting your facial expression as he buried himself inside you -deeper and deeper. He filled you so well. It was nothing like before. You had never tried anything like that.

“M-more..” you asked and the man accomplished you, hitting your g-spot again and again, filling you up perfectly.

“Say it, baby girl”, a slow, deep thrust. You knew that voice, it was so familiar, yet you didn’t know who was talking to you -being unable to open your eyes. “Say that you’re mine. Only mine. None touches you as I do. None knows your soft spots. I’m the only one. Be a good daddy’s girl”.

Something switched in you; now you recognized the voice.

His voice.

Ransom’s voice.

Before the alarm could go off, you opened up your eyes and sat up against the headboard of your bed. You were short of breath and sweating, as if you had been running a marathon around the city. But you were not.

You decided to get up and head to your bathroom in order to splash fresh water against your hot face, yet, when you took your first step, you felt your inner tights being sticky. You looked down and your skin was completely covered by a warm and slimy liquid. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.

You’d just had a wet dream.

A wet dream about Ransom Drysdale -also known as your boss.

A couple of hours later Sam -Ransom’s chef- and you had breakfast together, since Ransom wasn’t at home that morning, and you two had a moment of relax before going back to work. You liked talking to Sam; even though he was a lot older than you, you had always had topics in common. Not to say the friendly relationship you had -being the only ones to have resisted the temptation of quitting the job after only a couple of days.

“He’s mentioned something about a package incoming”, Sam made a small piece of paper sliding across the marble surface up to you, and you picked it up, reading it, “That’s for you”.

I want you at home until 9:30. Feel free to buy dinner with my credit card.

You crumpled it and threw it in the trash. “I’ll be in the office if you need me”, you threw him a kiss and grabbed my bag, heading to Ransom’s office.

As you entered the room, you smelled its typical smell: good old wood. The old library, given to him by Harlan, was the oldest furniture piece in the entire house. Entering the office was like entering in another house, an older house -just like Harlan’s- and you hated to admit that, but you actually liked it.

Probably it was your favorite room to stay. The piece of furniture you loved the most was the visibly expensive mahogany desk with golden finishes where usually Ransom worked -when he was in the mood of actually working. On the top of it there was a green lamp and a pen holder, made of the same material of the desk. Since you firstly came in there, it had always been messy -just like him.

Right next to the door, there was yours, instead; it was a little bit smaller than his but was certainly better arranged and on the top, there was a glass-made vase with orange and yellow tulips. According to you they brought a little bit of joy in that place.

As you were about to switch on your personal computer, Sam called you back in the living room. There you found a black box, with little purple sketches on the extendable side, placed on the table in the left part of the big room.

“What’s this?” you spoke up just enough for the man in the kitchen to hear you, “What do I have to do with it?”

“Is there any card?” he shouted back, while drafting the shopping list for the week, “Search for it!” And you did it. Yet there wasn’t anything for you. Since you couldn’t figure out if you were supposed to move it or not, you thought of moving it to Ransom’s bedroom on the first floor. You placed it down onto the coffee table in front of his bed and sat down on the white leather pouf armchair.

You stared at the package, wanting to unwrap it, but knowing that Ransom wouldn’t have liked it. You had always been a curious girl, since you were a child -a meddler, as your mother would have called you. You couldn’t help it.

Maybe it had been exactly that characteristic of yours to push you to start a life in Boston, away from Belmont.

Away from those who had turned their backs at you.

At the end you decided to go back downstairs and return to your jobs for the day. You didn’t leave the office until lunch -which you spent together with Sam in the backyard. Only the two of you, eating a dish of mac ’n’ cheese.

“Can you lend me your recipe, please?” you took another forkful in your mouth and shut your eyes as you tasted it, “That’s so good”.

“I don’t thing you’re able to cook without set your flat on fire”, he laughed as he took a drink of water, “But you’re welcomed to grab dinner with me and my wife, if you want”.

You smiled and thanked him for the invitation, asking him how Eve was doing. You had been knowing them for two years -since Ransom had hired you.

He was about to answer your question when you both heard the engine of a car being turned off and a door being violently closed.

Ransom was back.

You quickly recollected your dishes and glasses from the backyard and made your way in the kitchen, through the back door -not wanting to be seen, and then scolded, by your boss. You helped Sam cleaning them and putting them in the dishwasher.

When Ransom entered the kitchen, you were sat on a stool, reading some papers about a new Thrombeys’ purchase in the city.

Ransom’s lawyer had already read the contract and he had also specified on the paper where the man had to sign. Being it your job, you handed Ransom a pen as soon he had sat next to you on the stool and told him to sign.

“Whose?”

“Your mother”, you replied, knowing what he wanted to know. You watched him nodding and rapidly putting those signs she needed to buy the estate. “Are you hungry? Anything to eat?”

Being the asshole he was, Ransom turned to you and, placed his face on his fists, he stared at you. His unbearable smirk showed up. “Sweet like you or salty like me?”

He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact he was provoking you. You knew he just wanting to see you embarrassed and stumbling over your own words. But you couldn’t give in to him.

You took a deep breath and stood up, fixing your long beige dress as it raised when you’d sat down, “Excuse me, I have work to do”.

While walking out the room, you overheard Ransom’s giggle and Sam trying to get his attention. You felt his eyes on you -especially on you butt.

For the whole afternoon you and Ransom had shared his office. He had been doing everything, except working. And what got you on your nerves was his constantly moving on his chair, tapping with his fingers on the surface of his desk. You didn’t want to raise you head, yet you knew he was staring at you while typing on the keyboard. You glanced over the clock and noticed that there were left still three hours before you could actually walk out of Ransom’s house.

All of a sudden, he got up and approached you, bypassing the desk and placed himself behind your back. You shivered as you felt his hot whisky breath crashed against the back of your neck, pointing out that he was closing every kind of distance between the two of you.

“Hugh, there’s anything you want me to know”, you tried to stay calm and not to let him notice how nervous you were.

From that night, you avoided any kind of contact with him, trying to stay away as possible from him. The day before he had never showed up; Ransom had stayed in his bedroom the whole morning and, in the afternoon, he had been with his friends. But the next day he seemed not wanting to let you breathe. Since he had got back from Harlan’s mansion, Ransom had been stuck to you -in the kitchen before and in the office then.

“There’s something I’d like to ask you, but I answered myself”, he placed his hands on both the armrests and leaned closer to you. His lips no more than an inch away from your neck, “You know what?” Ransom saw you swallow and lift your shaking hand from the keyboard, “I’ll go open the box from this morning”.

You let out a deep breath as you saw him leaving the room; you breathed in and out heavily and tried to keep calm, before going back to work.

“Mr. Drysdale, I’m done for today”, Sam said entering the living room and stopping his walk once in front of Ransom, “Anything you need?”

“Nope, you can go.”

The man quickly thanked him and left the living room, he came back to the kitchen -where you were ordering Ransom’s and your dinner, “Still working?”

“I think so. See you tomorrow”, you winked at him and looked him leaving the house, directed to his own house -to his wife.

As he had shut the door behind him, you heard Ransom calling your name. You panted and got up, you opened the door that divided the kitchen and the living room and found your employer sat down on the couch, arms rested on the headboard and legs partially opened.

As an arrogant King would sit on his golden throne.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Hugh?” you hoped he would ask you to bring him a glass of water, that’s why you didn’t bothered to bypass the couch to look him in the face. You just hoped Ransom would leave you eat in peace and go home at half past nine.

Little did you know about the plans he had in store for you that night. And none of them included you leaving his place.

“What am I going to have for dinner?” he asked, taking a sip of whisky from his glass. When you told him that you had ordered from his favorite bistro in town, he showed you a little smile and his focus went back to the television, “Why don’t you stay here with me? I’m bored”.

“Y-yes. Just…let me take my book from the kitchen”, dazed with his behavior, you took a step back and headed to kitchen -again. This time you stayed there for a couple of seconds -just enough to grab your book from the counter- and headed back in the living room.

Ransom noticed how you carefully looked at him, before taking a seat on the nearest armchair, “Are you afraid of me all of a sudden?”

He knew it wasn’t like that. Actually, you were the only person who could fall him in line with a single look and the power you had always had over him was frankly shocking. It took Ransom a week to understand that he would ever impose himself over her, because he knew he would fail miserably.

The first time you said no to him, it was a proper first time for him. Ransom was used to ordering people what to do and he was used to girls falling at his feet as soon as he talked to them, but you had never given him the power to let you down. Instead of having an intense discussion with him -with the danger of being fired-, you preferred silently to walk out and managed to solve the problem according what was better for you -knowing that eventually Ransom would have agreed.

“What have given you this feeling?” you asked never raising your eyes from the book you had been reading in the past half hour. It wasn’t the first time Ransom had seen you studying at work and it was okay with him, as long as you had finished all your tasks for the day, “But not”, you finally met his light blue eyes, “I’m trying to summarize the last few pages, but I can’t understand a word…” you gently throw the book on the little table and gently pressed the tips of your fingers against the base of your neck.

“You know that there’s a simpler and more natural way to release your stress, don’t you?” those words came out in a very serious way, though he had his usual filthy smirk on, “I can help you”.

“I would have accepted, if only you hadn’t added the last sentence”, you put away your MacBook and definitely closed the book, letting it slip in your backpack.

“C’mon! You know I can help you feeling better”, he stood up and gradually came closer to you. Once again, you felt his hot breath on your collar bone and -just like in the office no longer before- he had placed his hands on the armrests of the chair you were sat on, “If only you could let me slip my fingers under this dress”, Ransom softly moved one of his hands to your knee and slowly rose it up to your middle thigh, “Just like the other night. Oh God, I still remember your taste. Juicy and sweet”.

You tightened together your thighs -in order to ease the pleasurable ache between them-, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the movement, “Hugh-“

He cut you off, “I know you’re dropping. Don’t think you can hide your arousal from me”, this time he lifted your light beige dress and slipped his fingers underneath it, “I’ve also bought a new toy to play with”, he moved even closer to you. Without any warning Ransom placed his lips on your collarbone and kissed it.

You noticed how soft his lips were and how skillfully they were moving on your skin, as if they have been trained for it, “Ransom…” you whispered, directly into his ear.

A shiver ran down his spine and he stopped for a moment, just enough to glance at you -eyes closed and mouth partially opened.

“Do you wanna try my new toy?”

As if you were in trance, you agreed to follow him in his bedroom -like the last time he invited you to his room- and, once you had taken off your boots, you walked a step behind Ransom. In front of his bedroom’s door, he quickly looked over his shoulder, to check on you, and non-verbally asked you if you still were with him.

You weren’t blindfolded; you knew how he liked to play with girls, how he liked to tease women only to make them weaker. Yet you decided to step in his bedroom and, once there, it was impossible for you to turn back.

“Sit down on my bed. In the middle”, he ordered, and you complied, raising you dress up to your hips and sitting down, waiting for him, “I’ll tell you only once: you’re allowed to call me Sir. Purely and simply Sir. Do you understand?”

You swallowed while staring at his broad shoulder handling something in his wardrobe. You couldn’t clearly see what he was taking with him, but you were sure the sheets would have become wet, if he didn’t hold his promise in the following two minutes.

“I haven’t heard an answer yet.”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

And again, he felt goosebumps as he heard you calling by that name: “Good girl”, he hid his new toy -as he liked calling it- behind his back as he walked towards the bed, on which you were quietly waiting for him, “And I see you’re still dressed. You can keep it, I like it, but you gotta me those pretty claret slips of yours”, he pointed at your core and stood up until you hadn’t given him what he wanted. Once done, he sat behind you.

Your legs were forced widely opened by his, wrapped around them, and both your arms were on his thighs.

“Since we’re here to let you release your stress”, Ransom left another kiss on your shoulder and kissed all the way up to your jaw, “You’re allowed to cum…every time”.

You were about to reply when you felt his fingers make their way to your core, between your folds, and your clit being gently rubbed by his thumb, “S-sir, please…”

“I know. I can’t help but teasing you”, and then he revealed the toy he was going to use on you: a vibrator.

Before you could see it, you heard its buzz against the mattress, and you shivered, “Are y-you…are you going to use it on me?” you felt your back being pressed against his chest and it was surprisingly soft and comfortable, yet strong enough to keep the both of you up.

“You don’t get to talk so much”, without you realizing it, he held the silver vibrator in his hand and took it near to your entrance, “So now…shut. The. Fuck. Up”, and a moment later you felt the cold round tip of the toy hitting your core.

The toy slipped on your clit and between your folds pretty easily -being you completely wet- and you closed your eyes as the wave of pleasure hit on you. You suddenly felt all the stress collected in the last days being wiped out of your body, “R-ransom”.

“Not my name, sweetheart”, he didn’t look at you while answering, he kept his focus on what was going on between your legs, “Then, I stop when I want to”, having said that, he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, making you shiver.

Your hand gripped his knee and you threw your head back, laying it on his shoulder, “P-please…” the pain you felt soon became pleasure again and you exploded against the cold metal. Your breath became heavier and the knot in your stomach grew harder.

When you came a third time, you moved your hands up to his biceps and stuck your nails into them, “I c-can’t do it”, you whispered to his ear, jaw clenched and eyes shut together as you begged him to stop.

You couldn’t define it a torture because the pleasure Ransom was giving you wasn’t anything you had seen before. It was like he knew which buttons press in order to make you release. But the awesome sensation soon turned into pain as the vibrator against your clit intensified its pace. It went from level two to level four in a matter of seconds.

“I’m sure you can handle this. Especially because you handle me every day”, he wiped away one drip of sweat from your temple and cupped your face, “Just one more”, he smirked and said: “Maybe two”.

With his left hand, Ransom pressed the toy more against your core and two fingers slipped inside you. Just like the other night, he felt your tight walls clenching around his fingers as the climax approached, and he tried to push himself upper in your channel and, the more his fingers went up, the more your walls were tight.

“Do you feel my fingers, deep inside of you”, Ransom left a kiss on you shoulder, where a reddish mark was showing up, “God, I can’t wait for me to be buried inside you. Entirely. You will take my cock so well, all of me”.

The dirty talk was making its work, and the fourth time you cum, the releasee was stronger than ever. You felt so overwhelmed. You only wanted to close your eyes and fall asleep on those perfumed sheets, yet you were one orgasm away from your peace. And you wanted to feel the knot in your stomach again. Ransom’s fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot and providing you a wave of pleasure.

“Once more, baby girl. Do it for me. Do it for your Sir.”

As he pronounced that word, you emitted a long racking scream and you came undone around his fingers.

“That’s it. That’s all I’m giving you tonight”, Ransom looked at you as you tried to catch your breath, still shaking from the orgasm he had given you. Eyes completely opened -staring at the ceiling-, red cheeks and lips partially opened.

Face was his off-limit zone; he had never kissed his one-night stands. But that night he felt the urge of kissing you, crushing his lips on yours and explore your throat with his tongue. He wanted to give you the best kiss you would ever receive, and he wanted to taste your mouth, see if it was soft and sweet as he had imagined.

Yet he knew the next day would have your mouth over his cock and that image was enough to let him stop, before he could slip his lips on yours.

“I’m tired”, you said when you felt him standing up. You laid your head on the first pillow you’d found, and you closed your eyes, falling asleep.

When Ransom came back into the room from the bathroom, he found you crouched on the right side of the bed. He was holding a hot towel, with which he cleaned your inner thighs and your worn-out core, and then wiped away some drips of sweat running down from your forehead. But he didn’t limit himself there; he took off your beige dress -stating that it wasn’t comfortable to sleep- and put you into one of his t-shirts. Once he had done it, he took off his grey-blue sweater and tossed it on a chair, then got under the sheets and stared at the ceiling for a moment, before turning on his left side and falling asleep at the sound of you breathing.

Tag List -open-:

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@hazmyheart

@this-is-serenaa

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@captainchrisstan

@im-married-to-chris-evans

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@peaches-roses-sins

@marvelbrat I’m sorry, i wasn’t able to tag u

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