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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

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Midnight Diner [M] ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

PAIRING: Tattoos!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Smut, AU, Tattooist AU, Diner AU, friends to loves, touch her and you die vibes, established friendship, protective Yoongi

An old fashioned diner was not where you had pictured yourself working but here you were dressed in a pale pink dress with a white apron around the middle to look as though you worked as a vintage waitress from the '50s. It used to be a small cafe but the new owner decided that he wanted to turn it into a '50s diner so that it would become a well-known truck stop along the highway. Lots of people stopped by all of the time but not just because of the diner but because of a famous tattoo studio right next door run by one of your friends. Yoongi. He had two full tattoo sleeves each tattoo was designed by him and put onto his body by him or someone else he trusted with his life.

"I'll be right with you sir," You said as the bell above the door chimed to let you know that the first customer of the day had walked in, you cleaned up the desk and turned around to see Yoongi waiting for his morning cup of coffee. Every morning like clockwork he would be waiting for you to open, watching from his apartment above the tattoo studio to see if you'd been in yet and then he would make his way down.

"Take your time." You rolled your eyes at him playfully, telling him to sit wherever he wanted to but he would always pick the same spot, the bar stool in front of the till. You figured it was so he could keep you company and make conversation while the diner wasn't busy but that wasn't it at all.

See Yoongi didn't see you as just a friend, to him you were someone he had to protect and he was going to do that until his last breath. It wasn't that he thought you needed protecting, lord knows you could look out for yourself but there was something about you that intrigued him. You were someone that he loved and cared for deeply not that he would ever admit that out loud to you or anybody else for that matter. Whatever it was about you made him want to stay around you all of the time was relaxing to him, with you he felt he could be his true self instead of his persona that everyone seemed to perceive him as, the tattooist that hated everyone he met or came into contact with.

"The usual?" He glanced up when he heard your voice and nodded, it was still quite early so the diner was empty apart from the two of you and the chef in the back.

"Jack? Yoongi's usual," You called out with a giant smile on your face, it was now that Yoongi realised you were wearing makeup, it was the first time he'd ever seen you with so much on.

"Oh? The lipstick." You mumbled as you caught his gaze staring at you,

"Keith wants us to look more in the part," You grumbled as you did a small spin in the dress showing off everything you were wearing, Yoongi's heart practically leapt out of his chest. You always looked breathtakingly beautiful but today there was an allure about you that made it harder to resist you.

"But you can't say anything Mr bleach blonde!" You cried out running your hands through his blonde hair that was recently dyed, he was always doing different things with it. When you first met him it was long and up in a ponytail dyed bleach blonde, then he went black, green and one time pink. The two of you had been best friends for three years ever since you started working at the diner, every morning he would come in and order the same thing. Black coffee, pancakes and a second coffee to go with it. Then he would do the same at night after closing up his tattoo studio. A herbal tea with whatever dinner you got to pick out for him, the two of you would eat together every night. Even if you were on the late shift.

"Any famous clients today?" You teased as you began to clean around the bar with a dishcloth and some cleaning spray,

"We have a very special client," He laughed as he continued watching you clean,

"Who?" You knew Yoongi would never give you details if someone famous was truly going to him to get a tattoo but it was always fun poking him for information. It was the best of the best in his industry and even though his studio was right out on the highway people still came from far and wide to get tattooed by him.

"Well it would be her very first, she said she was nervous but she's got nothing to worry about." As soon as the words left his mouth you knew that he was speaking about you and you rolled your eyes, throwing the rag that had been attached to your apron at him.

"I'm not getting it done today, I'm on the morning and late shift." You whined as you thought about going over there to get a tattoo.

Both of you had been planning it for so long, doodling ideas that you had for a tattoo on your arm but never fully committing to it until Yoongi designed the perfect design for you. It was your birth flower and birthstone fused together with a crescent moon surrounding them and Yoongi's artwork made it look truly magnificent.

"But I've already drawn it up, you have to get it done eventually," You knew it was true and you wanted to but it was hard with how often you worked.

"What about after I've shut and you've finished, you're my friend I don't mind doing it after hours," He reminded you before blowing into the scolding liquid and watching you.

"That could be good...This weekend?" You suggested as you glanced at him, the door opening to reveal more customers walking through the door, he nodded before you went off to greet the couple taking them to a table.

Yoongi left not long after finishing his breakfast and a second mug of coffee, leaving his money and an extra-large tip the way he always did whenever he was served by you and you were left the enjoy the rest of the busy day filled with bikers, families that were travelling on holidays and regular customers that came in almost every day. It was finally near closing time which meant Yoongi would be in any second to have dinner with you before you would head home for the night.

"Hey sweet stuff," You glanced over your shoulder to see truckers walking through the door, usually truck drivers were some of the sweetest people you came across but towards the end of the night was when the worst of the worst came to come into the diner. Tired from driving all day, testosterone high from not being around their partners and thinking they could groop and touch whoever they pleased without consequences.

"Take a seat, I'll be right with you." You did your best to appear confident in front of the six men who were all larger than you and walking towards you. Slipping by them you carried a tray of plates through to the kitchen and tried to calm yourself down to go and talk to them. Reminding yourself that they were just tired and rowdy after a long day and just needed to cool off.

The bell signalled and you relaxed knowing that the person who came through was going to be Yoongi, no matter what, if he was around you were more calm and relaxed.

"Hey, do you want the usual or something special?" You asked as a giant grin appeared on your face as soon as you saw Yoongi sitting at the bar stool by the till but Yoongi wasn't smiling. He looked tired and pissed off, as soon as he'd walked into the diner he could sense that something was off, normally you would be on the floor waiting for him not hiding in the kitchen.

"Something special? Does that involve you hot cheeks?" You ignored the man at the table who yelled out to you, his friends all whistling as you stood unamused in front of Yoongi.

"Listen-" Your hand gripped onto Yoongi's arm as you sent him a silent signal with your eyes not to bother saying anything, it wasn't worth the effort since they would leave soon enough but that wasn't soon enough for Yoongi. He wanted them out now since he could see just how uncomfortable you were with them in the diner.

"How come he gets something special?!" Another one yelled before you walked over to their table, smiles and graces plastered across your face as you tried to keep a good face-up.

"What can I get for you all?"

Time passed and you served the truckers before having your dinner with Yoongi. The two of you sitting together at the till and sharing food and stories from his day had been a slow one for him. Only booked clients had arranged to come in with short tattoos and he was bored of not getting to show his creative side.

"Which is why you should have come to let me do yours," He complained playfully as nudged you,

"Okay, I'm a little scared of the needles,"

"I'll hold your hand baby," A deep voice said from behind you as the main man from the group came up to pay for their meals,

"Maybe if you're a good girl I'll let you hold something else," He moaned dramatically before making some inappropriate thrusting movements with his hips and then everything was like a flash. Yoongi was no longer sitting beside you and the man was on the floor bleeding from his lip.

Just like that everything seemed to be moving quickly, Yoongi was punching two men when another grabbed him and punched him in the face. Panic washed over you as you didn't know what to do first, you grabbed a tray from beside you and bashed the man holding Yoongi around the head and he let him go.

"You little fucking whore," He boomed out ready to throw a punch but you kicked him in the groin before slapping him across the face with the tray again, his nose splurting blood out on the floor.

"Get the fuck out of my diner," You hissed as you grabbed one of them by the ear lobe and began dragging the whimpering man to the door. Yoongi smirked from where he was standing as the men stumbled over to their trucks not saying another word.

"Yoongi." You breathed out as you saw blood dripping from a cut on his lip and forehead,

"I’ve got a first aid kit in the studio, I’ll be fine”. He shook his head trying to pass it off as though it was nothing and that he would clean it up but you began shaking your head, telling Jack to lock up for you as you dragged Yoongi out of the diner and over to his store.

"I can look after myself," He mumbled as he suddenly felt like a baby with you dragging him around, he'd been trying to protect you in the diner but now he felt like a failure when you began kicking them out instead.

"Shut up and let me do this," You mumbled as you walked through the door, sitting him down on one of the tattoo chairs and waiting for him to tell you where the first aid kit was.

"Sit still before I poke you in the eye," You ordered as you sat across from Yoongi, the both of you squished onto the tattoo chair as you forced him to let you clean up the wound on his forehead.

"It would heal with a bandaid," He mumbled poking out his bottom lip as you cleaned it up with some alcohol wipes and then placed a bright pink band-aid on top, smirking to yourself as he gave you an unimpressed stare.

"It's pink-"

"It's cute," You reminded him as you began packing up the kit,

"You're going to have to stop defending me at some point, you can't keep getting hurt because of me," You whispered as you remembered the last time Yoongi jumped in when someone had been making inappropriate comments at you, it hadn't ended well for the first guy and Yoongi was left with bruises and cuts too.

"But I want to protect you," You heard the sadness in his voice and you turned to look up at him not realising how close your faces were to one another until you almost headbutted him.

"Y-You don't have to protect me," You stuttered because of how close you were together and sighed shaking his head,

"You don't get it," He mumbled trying to slide off the chair but you took his hand in yours, begging him to explain what you didn't "get",

"I'm in love with you," As soon as he told you it was as if a weight had been lifted from his chest and he stared at you waiting for you to run off. That was what happened the last time he told someone he truly cared about them but instead, you didn't, you slid down from the chair and cupped his face in your hands. Running your thumb over his soft skin before leaning forward and connecting your lips together. He was hesitant at first but as soon as he realised what was happening he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You were in love with him too and had been waiting so long to finally hear those words fall from his lips.

Your lips touched yet again but this time he didn't hesitate against you, there was passion behind every peck and kiss he gave to you, his hands wandering up your sides as he picked you up, carefully placing you back onto the chair you had gotten off. As soon as his lips touched yours is like like your whole body became heated as if you were set on fire. The kiss made you feel as though you were alive and you pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and cause some friction between you,

"I need you." You whimpered feeling needy as his hands touched your inner thighs, the skirt bunching up against your hips as you kissed him again, he grabbed fistfuls of your skirt and smirked as you let out a whine.

"Say the word and I will stop," He whispered as he pulled away to look at you, you nodded before kissing him desperately wanting nothing more than his touch on your body. He kissed won your neck as he began to take off the dress you were wearing, throwing it somewhere behind him as you fought off the urge to hide from him.

"You're beautiful, you don't need to hide from me," He reminded you as his fingers trailed over every inch of exposed skin making you needier for his touch. Yoongi laid a gently kiss on your thighs and you cried out as you waited for something more.

He worked his way down using his tongue to follow where his hands had touched, running his tongue over each of your nipples before kissing each of your thighs again.

"Y-Yoongi," You whispered as he looked up at you, he had a wicked smirk on his face as he looked up at you, licking his lips as though he was about to eat his first ever meal.

"Yes?" You whined at him as he blew cold air onto your exposed core making you whimper as he run his fingers through your folds your fingers dug into the leather chair as he used his tongue to glide through your folds. Your heartfelt as though it was about to stop as he continued to eat you out on the chair, growling against you as he heard your moans of approval at what he was doing. Every small flick of his tongue earned another moan from your lips, your head fell back against the chair and you were squirming and writhing around unable to keep your movements still has his tongue continued to work wonders on you. It wasn't long until the intensity began to build leaving you stunned and unravelled as you cried out his name cumming around his tongue.

Yoongi smirked as he lifted his head his lips were swollen and glossy from your juices that were on him, you whimpered looking at the state of him.

"F-Fuck," You growled pulling him onto the chair with you as you began to kiss him, his legs tickled your core as you ground against him,

"Y/n," He breathed as his lips touched yours, kissing you all over as you began to whine for more from him,

"Touch me," You smiled as you kissed him, running your hands down to his trousers as you pushed them down, smirking to yourself as he let out a shaky breath. Kicking off his pants and looking at you as you run your hand over his hardness, running your thumb over his slit as his breaths became jagged and his body seemed to jerk.

"D-Don't stop," He begged with his jaw clenched, fingers holding onto you tightly as you began to slow pump nim in your hand. Watching his face for all of the reactions he was giving you, his jaw pipped, lips parted as he let out moans.

"Fuck," He moaned out as he rolled his head forward into your neck, biting down on your skin as you continued to pump him in your hand.

"Your touch kills me," He whimpered as his hips began to move in the rhythm of your pumps, moaning out as you gripped a little tighter.

"I-I need to be in you?" He asked it as a question wanting to make sure you were comfortable and you nodded,

"I-I'm on the pill and I'm clean," You reassured him as you realised that neither of you was exactly prepared for this to happen, he kissed you softly lining himself up at your entrance. The tip of his cock made you clench around nothing as he slowly began to move into you. There was intense pressure for a moment and you weren't sure if he was going to fit, then there was a sudden sharpness as he sank into you holding himself deep as you cried out.

"I-I'm sorry," He kissed you lovingly as he realised it was hurting you, but it wasn't a terrible pain it was just that the fullness was a little too much for you.

"I-It's okay, you're j-just big." You whimpered as he kissed you again, softly, and then he began to rest his head on yours waiting until you were ready for him to move but to be honest you would have been perfect laying there with him inside of you all night, it felt as though he was the perfect fit.

"Y-You can move," You promised him as you kissed him again, he began to move his hips slowly, you lifted your hips against him and it began to turn into intense pleasure, something you'd never experienced with anyone before. Your head was totally lost as he continued to move with you, the sound filling the room where your moans mixed together with soft sighs and whimpers as he pushed in and out of you passionately and lovingly.

Yoongi worked his arm under your head and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he angled himself deeper inside of you, your stomach tightened as you felt yourself getting closer. He began to move faster, deeper his thrusts getting stronger as he looked into your eyes the feeling was intense.

"Y-Yoongi," You breathed out as you could feel yourself trembling around him, it felt as though you were going to burst until you finally came undone around him without warning. Yoongi's features turned dark as his jaw tensed again, he lost control as his body pounded against yours making the chair move across the floor until his muscles flexed and his head rolled back, crying out and shuddering as he came undone inside of you.

His head laid in your neck for a while before either of you began to move or speak,

"I-I'll get us a hot bath." He whispered as he slid out of you, giving you his shirt to change into while he looked at you.

"You're so fucking beautiful," He breathed out in a raspy voice as he looked at you, even after sex you were still just as beautiful as before.

"Shut up," You whined following him up the stairs to his apartment so the two of you could clean up together and talk about what all of that meant.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @anxiousbobatea

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finalfantasyix · 3 years

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Meet The Team Working On A Final Fantasy 9 Remake You’ll Never Get To Play

Final Fantasy 9: Memoria Project is a fan homage like nothing we've ever seen before. “It is no secret that fan projects get shut down all the time,” Dan Eder tells us about Final Fantasy 9: Memoria Project, a fan-driven love letter to the classic JRPG. It isn’t aiming to be a playable remake of the epic adventure though - instead, it’s an aesthetic homage to its timeless world and characters.

It’s somewhat anomalous in the world of community creations, but Eder wants to use this distinct identity to craft something truly special, even if many obstacles stand in the way of making it a reality. But the team keeps moving forward: “Without a doubt, some of the most frequent comments we get from naysayers is ‘have fun with it while it lasts’ or ‘cease and desist incoming’”, Eder explains. “People are understandably skeptical of the longevity potential of yet another passion project. The key difference is that, unlike those projects, Memoria is essentially an elaborate piece of fan art, nothing more - it will have no actual gameplay, will never be released to the public, and is nothing more than a ‘what-if’ scenario. [It’s] no different from any other fan-made piece of artwork. We have never, and will never, make a single dollar out of this project, and are basically doing this for the personal gratification of the fans.”

The genesis of Memoria Project dates all the way back to Eder’s younger years, with dreams of a potential FF9 remake entering his imagination soon after the original game’s launch. That’s no great surprise - millions still regard Final Fantasy 9 as the series’ finest hour. “While it's true that the project really started to pick up steam a few months ago, it wouldn't be a stretch to say I've been planning it since high school,” Eder explains. “I remember scribbling ‘FF9 remake’ on my notepad during classes and writing imaginary new features and battle system mechanics, starting online petitions to remake FF9 for the PS2, sketching drawings depicting scenes from the ‘FF9 sequel’ and whatnot. I could confidently say that my life would probably have been completely different had my older brother not borrowed this game from his friend in the summer of 2000.

“As a non-native English speaker who had never played an RPG up until that point, my first playthrough was a challenging experience to say the least, and I can honestly say that I understood literally nothing of what was going on the first time I finished the game (how I even managed to beat it is a mystery in and of itself). It didn't really matter to me though, since I was absolutely enamored with the incredible cast of characters, jaw-dropping FMV sequences, mesmerizing music, thrilling gameplay, and just the overall atmosphere and charm it exuded at every step. My unconditional love for this game persisted throughout my entire childhood and adult life, and it is one of the central reasons why I chose to become a 3D character artist in the video game industry. In short, this project is my way of thanking this game for everything it has done for me over the past 21 years.”

Eder’s passion for this game can be found across several industry professionals who grew up with games like this and wanted to replicate them, or create something entirely unique to live up to their brilliance. This is very much how Memoria Project found its feet, beginning life as a trivial side activity before blossoming into something infinitely more ambitious. It still has a long way to go, but there’s little urgency to reach the finish line, so the team can take their time and just enjoy the nostalgic indulgence of it all.

“Memoria actually started unofficially as a side project when I reached out to Colin Valek [of] Sucker Punch Studios in early 2020 after I came across his fanart of an environment from FF7,” Eder says. “I had already modeled Princess Garnet, and thought it could be a fun idea to combine our talents to reimagine the opening area of Alexandria. Initially, it was progressing at a snail's pace - we were slowly chipping away at it for over a year without making a lot of progress. While Colin continued modeling the buildings, I created another character - Vivi.”

This glacial pace received a resurgence of sorts in January when the Alexandria scene was finally complete, with Eder and company finally being able to see how much potential the project had if it was opened up to a larger range of creators. “When I posted that WIP screenshot, the response from fellow FF fans was overwhelmingly positive, more than we could have imagined,” Eder remembers. “Very quickly, other people from the gaming industry started reaching out - environment artists, animators, riggers, concept artists. That's when I decided to turn this side project into a full-fledged modern reimagining of the original game, while always making sure to emphasize the fact that this is a non-playable proof-of-concept, since we never have any intention of doing anything to violate Square Enix's copyright. Four months after officially announcing the project, we've grown from a couple of FF fanboys to a huge team of over 20 industry veterans working collaboratively to honor this masterpiece, fueled by our love and adoration for the source material.”

Now, the project has over 20 developers from Sucker Punch, Ubisoft, Rare, Unbroken Studios, and more all diving into this labour of love in their spare time, with composers and voice actors also contributing their talents to help make this glimpse into the world of Final Fantasy 9 worth celebrating. But Eder is aware of being overly enthusiastic, knowing that fan projects like this often doom themselves by undertaking something that isn’t feasible with so few resources.

“One of the most common traps for these kinds of fan projects is being overly ambitious,” Eder says. “Since all of us are actively working in the video game industry, we understand the importance of milestones, short term goals, and taking things one step at a time. For now, we are focusing our efforts on the opening sequence of the game, which mainly revolves around Vivi and his exploration of Alexandria. Where we go from here is still being discussed, but one thing I can say for sure is that Vivi will not be the only main character we're planning to include.” I’m told that Memoria is aiming to look indistinguishable - at least from a graphics perspective - from something you’d see in a triple-A blockbuster, and it seems the team has the pedigree to back that claim up.

Visuals are the entire point after all, since turning this project into a playable piece of media would require far more resources to create. By narrowing its focus, Memoria is able to deliver something special while also hopefully avoiding the ire of Square Enix. “The fact that this is a non-playable project definitely makes it easier for us to tailor the experience in a way that would truly allow the audience to be fully immersed in the world without having to worry about technical limitations,” Eder tells me. “Creating actual functional gameplay is a completely different ball game, one that we never had any intention of even discussing given the copyright limitations. This gives us a lot of leeway with how we are going to portray the world of Gaia in terms of character interaction, camera movement, [and] scene transitions. We have a lot of cool plans for the near future - please look forward to it!”

As for the sad truth of fan projects like this often being wiped from existence by publishers throwing out cease and desist letters, Eder is confident that Memoria occupies a niche where this won’t happen. It’s not a commercial or even playable product - it’s a piece of fan art, albeit an endlessly elaborate one. If the tides were to change, Eder believes companies should welcome the enthusiasm for experiences like this.

“If I were to be completely honest, I think it could be a potentially brilliant decision by Square Enix to do something wildly unexpected and invest in a project like this,” Eder states. “There's a considerable amount of hype, talent, motivation, and pure, unadulterated passion behind it. It's not something I would expect, but I think it could be incredibly helpful in regaining some of the trust and reverence that this legendary company was known for during its golden years.”

(source)

#final fantasy ix #memoria project #final fantasy 9 #ffix: memoria project #article #news #interview #long post #very long post!

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jusvibbbin · 3 years

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The Perfect Piece

Data x Reader Insert

You turned to look at the class. “See, was that so bad?” The class stared at the board and groaned. Your smile faltered and you looked back at the board. Maybe they weren’t ready for division. You checked the clock and the smile reappeared. Or maybe it’s because it’s 2:05 on a Friday. You decided to be merciful to the fourth grade class and let them out early.

“Well maybe that was kind of difficult,” you chuckled. “Why don’t we spend one more weekend on multiplication and next Monday we’ll pick the division back up. Class dismissed!” The children shot up and grabbed their PADDs before running out the door. You shook your head and walked over to your desk. Might as well get some grading done and call it a day. You were just as ready to go home as the class.

“Excuse me (Miss/Mister/Prof) (Y/L/N)?”

You looked up at none other than Lieutenant Commander Data. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. The Commander had a reputation for talking for far too long and making situations unnecessarily awkward, but you found him cute and at times, quite funny. The two of you spoke very rarely; at holiday parties or on Picard Day, if he chose to accompany the ever-uncomfortable Captain.

“Commander! What an unexpected surprise!” you smiled, standing from behind the desk to walk around and meet him in the middle of the classroom.

“Is not every surprise unexpected?” Data queried, giving a slight smile to mirror your expression. You blinked and inwardly smacked yourself. Wow what an opener. You laugh it off, clearly embarrassed.

“I suppose that’s true. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Data looked around the classroom at the decorations the various classes had made to give the classroom ‘lived-in’ feel, away from the sterile and by-the-book Starfleet look.

“I wish to discuss your classroom.”

“What? Really?” you beamed, proud of the work your students had done.

Data nodded. “I would like to give my quarters more of a personal touch. I have observed that your classroom is decorated with the artwork of the children, regardless of if it is not well made.”

You choked on the air in your throat and started laughing.

“Mr. Data!! You can’t say that! It will discourage the children.”

Data looked around the room and out into the adjacent corridor. He looked back at you and met your eyes. You took in how close the two of you were, but did nothing to widen the gap.

“I apologize if I offended you but I did not see any children present to hear my comment. I am only curious as to why you put it all up despite the varying quality.”

“Well…” you smiled at him, never breaking the eye contact he established. “It helps show the children that the room belongs to them as much as it does anyone else. I even put a piece up.”

Data’s eyebrows raised at this.

“Which one is yours?” There was almost an excitement behind his eyes but you shook away the thought. Data doesn’t have feelings like that.

“You’ll have to guess.” you responded almost flirtatiously. Data flashed you a full smile and your knees nearly buckled. You placed a hand on the closest desk, hoping that your attempt to stabilize yourself looked more casual than it felt.

Data began walking around the room, looking at the pieces on the walls, the shelves and hanging from the ceiling. You smiled, knowing yours was on the complete other side of the room. Data stopped walking and turned to look at you, smirking with something like confidence. Good God, how much time did his creator spend on his eyes? It must have taken…

“(Y/N)?” Data said, confusion laced in his voice as he looked at your glazed over eyes.

“Oh gosh, Data! I’m sorry I must have been somewhere else.” You chuckled awkwardly as you cursed yourself for being so infatuated with the one man who could not return your sentiments.

“Which one did you pick?” you asked, desperate to get the conversation back on track. Data looked at you a moment longer before pointing at a painting hung up on the wall across from you. You grinned and shook your head.

“I thought you were the great Sherlock Holmes, Data!” You turned around and moved a desk into the corner behind you before standing on it. Data watched you quizzically as you took down a hanging model of a star made out of small spare parts from a broken replicator or a tricorder that you painted yellow. You stepped down from the desk and held it up to show him.

“I had not considered that your piece might also be objectively amateur,” Data said matter-of-factly. You laughed loudly and put a hand on your chest.

“Wow Data, you really know how to compliment someone! I know I’m not very good at art but it’s about having fun and being proud of what you make in the end.”

“So you think that I should decorate my quarters with my own artwork?”

You smiled at him and nodded as he continued to look at the star.

“Why did you choose to make it out of spare parts and slightly sharp things? Is that not dangerous?”

You looked at your model as you collected your words. “For starters, it’s very securely attached to the ceiling and no one sits under it. I made it this way to show that as stunning and beneficial as stars are, they’re also very volatile and powerful. Not a force to be reckoned with!”

Data held his hands out and you handed the model to him. You felt a sharp pain in your hand and looked down.

“If art is not your strong suit, perhaps I could teach-”

Data didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence as he looked up in time to see your eyes roll into the back of your head and he quickly caught you before you hit the ground. He set the model down on a desk and picked you up with both hands, gently cradling you against his chest before walking towards sickbay. He assessed you as he walked, looking for injury or signs of a heart attack or a brain aneurysm and finding none. He entered a turbolift as you came to.

“D-Data? What are you doing?!” you yelped, taking in your surroundings. His arms underneath you, pressing you into his hard chest. His eyes scanning your confused face, looking at you full of concern. I must be dreaming.

“You passed out in the classroom. I did not see a probable cause so I elected to carry you to sickbay and have Dr. Crusher examine you.” As he said all this you touched your right hand lightly to your left index finger. It felt wet and you remembered why you fainted.

“Data, we don’t have to go to sickbay,” you said as he strode out of the turbolift and into a busy corridor. You cheeks heated up and you added, “So you can put me down now!”

Data looked at you again and shook his head. “I am sorry (Y/N) but unless you have an accurate cause, I insist you are seen by a medical professional. It is best not to participate in physical activity until you are cleared for it. I do not mind carrying you to sickbay. You are not heavy.” He continued walking and you sighed, although you secretly loved the attention and care he was putting into making sure you were alright. He would do that for anybody!

“Data if I can tell you why, will you put me down?”

He stopped walking and looked at you, waiting.

You held up your slightly bloody finger, careful to not look at it.

Data looked at the prick on your finger then at you as you stared at the ground. He gently set you on the ground and gingerly took your hand in both of his so he could inspect the wound. You thought you might pass out again at his touch and you swallowed hard.

“This wound seems very superficial for you to have a head injury as a result.” Still holding your hand, he began walking back towards the turbolift. You were too starstruck to protest. He called for a deck number but you weren’t listening as you tried to form a sentence.

“I uh… I don’t like seeing blood. I’ve fainted every time since I was a kid.” You looked at your joined hands again and a small smile appeared on your lips.

Data’s eyes looked as though he was searching for something before saying, “Ah, vasovagal syncope.”

You nodded, slightly in awe of his processing ability. The turbolift doors opened and he led you down a couple of corridors before stopping at some quarters. These aren’t mine…

He pressed the control panel to the side of the doors and they swooshed open revealing a sparsely decorated room. There was a coffee table, a couch, a desk in the far corner with a huge computer and an orange tabby waiting by the replicator, meowing.

“I will feed you momentarily, Spot. First, I must attend to our guest.” Data led you to the couch and let go of your hand. You sat as he walked over to a storage cabinet and retrieved a medkit. He came back to you and used the dermal re-generator to mend the small cut on your finger. You looked at your finger and smiled at him gratefully. He set the medkit on the table and sat close besides you on the couch.

“Thanks Data. I really appreciate you taking care of me in my hour of need.”

“(Y/N) only twenty minutes have passed since you fainted.”

You laughed and leaned into the back of his couch. “It’s an expression, Data!” His puzzled look turned into one of understanding, but he said nothing as he also leaned into the couch and angled himself to face you fully. You once again took in your close proximity, debating on moving away. And again, you didn’t.

The two of you chatted for a little while about your work, about the new interpersonal subroutine he and Commander La Forge had created, about his pet, and then finally about art.

“So do you know what you might do with your room decor?” you asked with a smile, your mind still on what sort of things the subroutine had added. Maybe that’s why he wants his room decorated. Or why he took care of me today. You tried to expel that last thought from your mind.

Data was quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering what he was going to say.

“I believe I already have the perfect piece.” He smiled sweetly at you and you looked around the room.

“Where is it?” you asked, confused.

He leaned in so close that his mouth was nearly touching your ear before whispering flirtatiously, “Guess.”

#star trek #data #data x reader #tng

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reciprocityfic · 3 years

Text

passing afternoons

title: passing afternoons fandom: little women pairing: theodore laurence x amy march rating: m summary: “did you have any dalliances after me?” she asks.

he blinks hard as his brain reels for a moment, as he struggles to comprehend what she’s saying. after her? there is no after her. there never will be.

then, he stops. thinks. she means...oh. oh.

she means after that time in the garden, in paris. when he’d first revealed his feelings for her, and she’d rejected him. left him standing there alone and feeling like an utter, hopeless idiot.

oh.

(laurie and amy spend a late summer afternoon talking about the past.)

author’s note: i've literally shipped laurie and amy since like fourth grade. so when i saw little women (2019) and found out it did my bbs justice, i basically cried. i've been meaning to write fic ever since, but alas, here we are almost a year later. i hope you enjoy it anyways.

i have another fic in the works that's longer and definitely more angsty, which i hope to post relatively soon. i also hope to write more fluff (also maybe smut???) for them in the coming months bc GOD i just love imagining these two together. in the meantime, i hope you enjoyed this!

xoxo, rebekah

passing afternoons

They enjoy being lazy after sex.

They’re not always afforded the opportunity, of course. At night, they tend to fall asleep rather quickly afterwards, exhausted and sated and tangled together. And the occasional forbidden interlude - when they’re some party or gathering wholly bland or pretentious and the two of them (sometimes tipsy, sometimes bored, always and perpetually desperate for each other) run off to some dark corner or isolated room where he lifts the skirt of her dress and the too-many layers underneath and uses his body to press hers against the wall as he sinks into her from behind and they pray their moans and the sounds of their bodies together won’t be heard - must be short and altogether swift, no time to dwell in the aura of the sensations and feelings between them.

But then, there are days when Grandfather is occupied with the business and the Marches are busy and they dismiss the servants. It’s just the two of them in their grand house with time that seems to stretch on and on. Sometimes they’ll make it a game of sorts, shamelessly flirt and tempt each other to see who will break first, but oftentimes they’ll share a look and a smile and then they’re off in a race to their horizontal surface of choice.

Today is one of those days, when they’ve nowhere to be, nothing to do, and are all alone. It’s an unusually hot day in late September, and when Amy had complained about the warmth, he’d suggested she take her blouse off. She’d raised an eyebrow and told him to go first, and then one thing led to another and now they’re naked and sore and satisfied, laying on their bed as the early afternoon sun shines in through their open windows.

He lays on top of the sheets on his back, head at the foot of the bed and hands on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling and trying to find imaginary patterns in swirling paint. She lays parallel to him, but leans against the headboard, her long blonde hair falling around her face as she sketches him. He hadn’t seen her take out the pad and pencil she keeps in the dresser near their bed, but he can hear the sound of graphite moving against paper as she draws. He grins as he imagines her face, lips pursed and brow furrowed, wide green eyes focused and the movement of her hand knowing nothing but purpose even with the most casual of sketches.

They do not touch and do not talk. Still, the intimacy of the situation - of being together and completely safe and comfortable with the person you love most in the world - is overwhelming. Its warmth cocoons him, and he feels his eyes getting heavy as he lies there, a breeze blowing in from the open window and caressing his skin.

“You had your many dalliances after Jo, yes?”

His eyes snap open when he hears her question, his stomach lurching slightly and his mood dampening.

He ran away to Europe and drowned himself in alcohol, drugs, and women after Jo broke his heart, and he admits this. Amy knows it, too. And it’s not that he’s ashamed of that period of time, exactly - while he wishes he had, indeed, bore it better, he finds himself sympathetic to the plight of people scorned by love, however misguided that love might be.

He just doesn’t often talk about it. Doesn’t like to. In his mind and in his heart, it is only Amy. Has always been, and always will be.

Amy doesn’t really like to talk about it, either. He finds her inquiry curious, but answers anyway.

“Yes,” he tells her, although the word comes out sounding more like a question than an answer.

He waits for her to explain her line of thought, but she simply hums to herself. He stares at the ceiling a moment longer, then leans up, resting his weight on his elbows.

She’s staring down at her drawing, her face just as he pictured it, pencil grasped between her lips as she swipes her thumb against the paper. He watches as she takes the pencil out of her mouth and starts at it again, and he watches her for nearly a minute before opening his mouth to speak.

She beats him to it, though.

“Did you have any dalliances after me?” she asks.

He blinks hard as his brain reels for a moment, as he struggles to comprehend what she’s saying. After her? There is no after her. There never will be.

Then, he stops. Thinks. She means...oh. Oh.

She means after that time in the garden, in Paris. When he’d first revealed his feelings for her, and she’d rejected him. Left him standing there alone and feeling like an utter, hopeless idiot.

Oh.

He shifts on the bed, drops his eyes from her face. He can feel his skin begin to flush from embarrassment.

They’ve never talked about this before.

Not that there’s much to talk about, he supposes. He still hesitates to tell her - not because he fears she’ll be angry with him, but because he doesn’t like to talk about it. If it were up to him, he would erase from his mind the memory of every woman he’d ever been with until only his wife remained.

But she’s asked, and he’ll be honest with her.

“One, I suppose,” he murmurs.

“You suppose?” she questions. She’s still staring down at her artwork, but her pencil doesn’t move.

“Sort of, yes,” he confirms.

She finally looks at him, her eyebrows pulled together and a frown on her face.

“How do you sort of have a dalliance?”

She looks genuinely confused, and he laughs lightly at the crease between her brows, sits up fully and reaches out to her. He cups her face and uses his thumb to rub at the wrinkle of skin.

“Shall I explain?” he asks her.

She nods.

“I...tried to be angry after you left. Just think - to be turned down by not just one, but two March girls!” he gasps playfully, and she snickers, pushing against his shoulder playfully before dropping her hand to run over the sparse hair on his chest.

“But?” she prompts.

"But I couldn’t make myself angry. Not at you. But I also knew I couldn’t just stay there in France and watch you and Fred Vaughn…”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and she rolls her eyes playfully.

“We’re speaking of all your affairs, and you want to tease about Fred?”

“It’s part of my story!” he insists with a wink, and she rolls her eyes again.

“Well, keep telling it.”

He smiles, and continues.

“I couldn’t stay, so I did what you told me to. I went to London, as you know. And when I first got there, there was a woman staying at the same hotel as I was. We got to talking one evening at dinner, and one thing…”

He trails off, feeling himself flush again.

“...led to another,” Amy finishes. “I understand. I don’t need the details.”

She’s frowning now, even though her fingers still run over his chest, and he despises it. He has half a mind to drop the subject, to kiss her lips and make her happy and forget life before, but he can’t.

“Wait, I’m not done.”

“Laurie, I don’t need to hear any more. You had your dalliance, I’m not upset, and we can stop - “

“I couldn’t do it,” he interrupts. “It didn’t work.”

She pulls back from him slightly, her eyes wide and curious. She looks down his body.

“You mean you couldn’t...?”

He follows her gaze, and then snorts.

“Not like that. It - it didn’t even get to that. Amy, my dear.”

He lifts her chin, and she gazes at him. He can tell she’s still confused.

“Every time I closed my eyes,” he explains, “I saw you - the face you made in the garden before you turned away and left. It broke my heart. It still breaks my heart. And when my eyes were open, all I could think about was how her skin wasn’t as soft and her hair wasn’t as fair and her eyes were brown instead of green and she just...wasn’t you.”

“But with Jo...”

“It was different with Jo. I could make Jo into anyone. I could always pick out the tiniest thing that reminded me of her, in any woman, and then pretend that woman was her. I couldn’t...do that with you. Or maybe I didn’t want to. In any case, being with that woman didn’t make me forget. She made me remember all the more. And I only kissed her for about a minute before I realized it was worthless.”

He stops and grabs one of her hands, brings it to his mouth so he can kiss her fingertips, before holding it over his heart.

“And that’s when I knew that this was different. You weren’t Jo, and I wasn’t going to be able to just...drink and fuck you away.”

She’d normally gasp and swat him playfully for his use of the coarse word, but now she stays silent and presses her hand more firmly against his chest.

“I was in love with you. Hopelessly and completely. And I realized that all I could do was stay in London and toil away and... pray that somehow you would change your mind.”

Then, everything had changed. Beth died, and then he knew he had to be with her. It didn’t matter if she despised him, or if Fred was there. He needed to be with her. But before that, he had been rather resigned to his fate - to work for his grandfather and forever pine after Amy March.

God had smiled upon him, though. And now, here he sits with his wife, Amy Laurence. Married, in love, and happy.

“So does that explain how one can have a single, sort-of dalliance?” he asks her.

But she stares at him, eyes shining, almost with tears.

“You were going to wait your whole life for me?” she whispers.

He smirks slightly, turning away from her and shrugging, somehow embarrassed. But she grabs his face, turns it back to her, and locks their gazes.

“What else would you have me do, my lady?”

“Oh, my lord,” she breathes, and kisses him deeply, until his toes curl and he can feel himself begin to harden once again. When she pulls away, they’re both panting. He wants to grab her, to gather her up in his arms again, but her pad and pencil remains between them.

He motions to the picture.

“Still working on that, Raphaella?”

“Maybe later,” she remarks, taking the paper and all but throwing it on the floor beside the bed. She pushes him back so he’s laying once again, and climbs on top of him, straddling his waist. “I have another idea how we can pass time this afternoon.”

She leans down and kisses his smiling mouth.

Yes, God had smiled upon him. Had given him back his love. And he’s married, in love, and happy.

Achingly happy.

#amy x laurie #laurie x amy #little women #little women 2019 #amy march #theodore laurence

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calebdumes · 3 years

Text

for @pretchatta who wanted kanera in evening wear and romantic tension. i hope i lived up to your wishes!

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: n/r

word count: 2.6k

When it came to opulence and beauty, the estate of Count Jafan Harik had it in droves. From the marbled walls etched with gold and lined with expensive art, to the exotic foods served on guilded trays, every inch of the mansion displayed the man’s abundant wealth and taste for the grandeur. But even surrounded by priceless artifacts and glittering gems, Kanan couldn’t take his eyes off of Hera.

Her gown was simple, compared to some of the other dresses Kanan had seen that evening, just a form fitting bodice that left her shoulders and arms bare, showing off the graceful white markings that traveled down to her wrists. The skirt hung off her slender waist like water, long flowing layers of gauzy fabric that had been dyed varying shades of dark blue and purple. The tiny crystals that had been woven into the folds caught on the light when she moved, giving off the impression of a shimmering night sky.

Kanan had nearly tripped over his own two feet when he first saw her emerge from her cabin, dressed and ready for the mission - his mind going completely and utterly blank. Hera was beautiful no matter what she wore, but dressed in that gown, the deep color of the dress against her green skin, the gems in her headdress glittering as brightly as her eyes, Kanan felt the breath punch from his lungs and heat pool in his belly.

She was stunning, like a dignitary from Ryloth, all the sophistication and grace of royalty surrounding her as if it had been there her whole life. It left Kanan mesmerized. He wanted to reach out and touch, to trace the white markings on her shoulders, to feel her lips against his own. She was the most beautiful being in the galaxy.

And Kanan wanted her.

“Have you seen him yet?” Hera asked out of the corner of her mouth before taking a sip of her bright red cocktail.

Kanan mentally shook himself and forced his eyes to do a sweep of the ballroom. It wasn’t the first time he had been distracted by Hera tonight and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

“No sign of him yet.” His eyes caught on the two ISB officers standing stiffly by their stormtrooper escorts, somehow managing to look completely out of place even in their regal dress uniforms. Kanan’s lip curled at the sight of them but didn’t let his gaze linger. For once, the Imperials weren’t the target of tonight’s mission.

Hera frowned, setting her glass down gently on the silk covered table they were standing at. “I don’t like this.” she said, scanning the small gathering of beings had gathered on the polished dance floor. “He should be here by now.”

“Relax.” Kanan said, reaching out to touch her bare shoulder, her skin warm under his fingertips. It sent a thrill of electricity racing up his arm, his heartbeat doubling in pace. “It’s still early. And from what I hear, he likes to make a grand entrance.”

Hera didn’t look convinced but a light blush had begun to form on the tops of her cheeks. Kanan looked down and his hand and quickly withdrew it from her shoulder.

Things with Hera were...complicated to put it simply. He was in love with her, that he could at least say with one hundred percent certainty. Kanan had loved her from the moment they met in the mud covered streets of Shaketown and he hadn’t stopped falling for her since. Hera had more charm and charisma in her little finger than most sentient beings in the galaxy possessed. She was headstrong to a fault, impulsive (even if she said otherwise), and cared so much that she was willing to risk everything if it meant that people could live free. Hera was good and smart and funny and Kanan was helplessly gone for her.

But he never did anything about it. Because she was his partner and his friend and they had built a relationship based on trust and respect. If she wasn’t ready or didn’t want anything more than friendship from him, then Kanan wasn’t going to push it. He valued their friendship too much to ruin it over unrequited feelings.

Except there was something, more than just friendship between them. He could feel it in the quiet spaces after a mission, in the lingering glances and easy touches that came on so naturally. There was something there, Kanan just didn’t know what to do about it. Not without Hera making the first move.

“I guess it’s too much to ask that the Count would show up to his own party on time.” Hera said, taking another sip of her drink.

“Eh, you know these rich types,” Kanan shrugged. “They think the galaxy revolves around them.”

“Sounds like you know from experience.” Hera drummed her fingers on the table. Kanan’s eyes fell to the white markings on her wrist that snaked their way up her arms to her shoulders. They were the same markings that decorated her lekku, gentle sloping white arches that formed a graceful design that put most artwork housed in the Count’s estate to shame.

But then again, Kanan was a little bit biased. When it came to Hera, she beat out just about everything.

“You meet one, you meet them all.”

“Is that so?”

Kanan rested his elbows on the table. “That’s been my experience.”

Hera hummed thoughtfully at his response before saying, “You know, I’m surprised you decided to help out on this mission. I know you still aren’t fully on board with my...cause.”

“I make excellent arm candy.” Kanan winked, his heart flipping as her jade green eyes trailed up his body. “Besides, we can help a lot of people with the information that’s on that list.”

There was pride shining in her eyes as she looked up at him, the light catching on the many gems that made up the silver headdress that sat on her head and twisted down her lekku. Kanan tried to ignore how his stomach flipped at her expression. “We can’t help anyone if the Count doesn’t show.”

“Give it time, he’ll be here.” He could tell she was growing impatient, the tips of her lekku flicking sharply in odd intervals. Naboo wasn’t the safest place for rebels and he sensed that Hera would rather get off this rock sooner rather than later. Kanan glanced over to the bodies swaying on the dancefloor as an idea struck him. “Come dance with me.” he said.

Hera blinked at him in surprise. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Sure it is.” he smiled. “It’ll give you a better view of the room.” he pointed out. And it would hopefully help her relax until the Count decided to grace the party goers with his presence and they could get this show on the road.

Hera continued to look at him doubtfully but made no move to stop him from leading her onto the dance floor. “Fine.” she said as Kanan settled one hand over her hip, the fabric of her skirt soft against his palm. “But just for one song.”

Kanan smiled at her. “Sounds like a deal.”

They swayed in an unhurried motion on the outer fringes of the dancefloor, keeping the entrance to the ballroom within their sights at all times. The music was light and heavy on the stringed instruments, a gentle melody that reminded Kanan of the many waterfalls of Naboo’s capital city. As they danced, Kanan watched as the tight line of tension slowly dripped from Hera’s shoulders.

“Have you ever gone to parties like this before?” Hera asked as they swayed together.

“You do remember where you met me right?” He arched a brow in response.

Hera rolled her eyes but there was a smile growing on her lips. “Don’t pull that with me. I know Gorse was just another one of your many adventures traveling through the galaxy. You could have gone to something like this before.”

Kanan smirked at her. It was true, Gorse was just another stop along his way but even as a youngling at the Temple, he had never been to something as extravagant as this. “I’ve been around but all this,” he waved a hand at the ornate room, “is too rich for my blood. What about you?”

“Once.” She nodded. “When I was really little, before the Clone Wars. I don’t remember much about it but I remember how beautiful my mother looked in her dress. I remember thinking that I wanted to be just like her someday.”

“What was she like? Your mother?”

Hera smiled at him, her eyes going distant for a moment. “She was kind. Always willing to lend a hand to those in need. And brave.”

“Well,” Kanan said softly. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve accomplished that.”

Color bloomed over Hera’s cheeks. “You’re just saying that to be nice.” she mumbled.

“Hera.” he said ducking down to capture her gaze. “When have I ever said anything just to be nice?”

“Do you want that list alphabetically or by date?”

“I’m being serious.” He said, pulling her closer to him. “Look around this room. Not a single soul here gives a kriff about the state of the galaxy. They wouldn’t lift a finger to help. But you, you’re doing something about it. You don’t think your mother would have done the same?”

The blush on Hera’s cheeks grew deeper, her chest rising and falling in light breaths. Kanan could feel her pulse beneath his fingertips. There was a look gleaming deep in her green eyes, bright and burning. It pulled him in, setting his soul on fire while the world around them melted away until all that was left was just Hera.

He loved her. He loved her more than anything, more than the air in his lungs or heart in his chest. He loved her. And he knew, in that moment, surrounded by all the riches the galaxy could afford, he would never love anyone as much as he loved her.

“Kanan,” Hera said, her breath ghosting over his lips. She was so close now, her body a long line of heat against his. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly bone dry. He could barely hear the music over the rush of blood in his ears. She licked her lips, her fingers tightening against his hip. “Kanan I-”

But before Hera could finish speaking the music suddenly cut off as the doors to the ballroom were thrown open and the Count made his grand entrance. The people clapped as a tall man with raven hair and white silk robes strode into the room, his dark eyes drinking in the adoration from the crowd. Hera took a step back. Kanan tried not to frown.

Count Jafan was oddly enough, not escorted by any type of private security. He didn’t seem to mind as people milled up to him, shaking his hand and tittering on about the party. Kanan watched as the thin man smiled and carried on as if the party goers were his adoring subjects. In many ways they were. Just about everyone here at the party wanted something from the Count, themselves included. But while most tried to wine and dine the man to get what they wanted, Kanan and Hera had a...different plan.

“Just say when.” Kanan said as they walked back to their table, leaving the dance floor behind. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Hera flagged down a protocol droid and took another bright red drink off of the serving tray. “Wait until he gets closer, then we’ll make our move. But we need to intercept him before our ISB friends over there come to collect.”

Kanan eyed the Imperial officers that were now watching the Count with sharp eyes as he fawned with his guests. They were after the same thing he and Hera had come for, only they had paid the good Count a reasonable fee. Kanan and Hera didn’t see the need for money to exchange hands for this type of transaction. A small distraction and deft fingers would do the trick just fine.

“You know,” Kanan said while they waited for their moment to arrive, “I have to give the Count some credit, making the Imperials come to him for the information. It’s a gutsy move. They must want that data chip pretty bad.”

“Yeah,” Hera laughed without humor. “Too bad the Count is on their side. We could use someone with his connections.”

Kanan gave the man a once over as he drew near. Other than the fine clothes he was dressed in, there wasn’t much to the man. His dark hair was slicked back and there was a perpetual smirk on his face that made Kanan want to punch it off. “His money, we could use. The Count himself? I think we’d get more help from a blurrg.”

That time, Hera’s laugh was genuine. “Alright.” she said with a mischievous grin. “Let’s go meet our host.”

Kanan wrapped his arm around Hera’s, mindful of the drink still in her hand as they moved towards the Count. The music had returned, the dance floor filling out now that the Count had finally made his appearance. Kanan and Hera walked arm in arm around the edge of the ball room, past the gilded tables laden down with rich foods and groups of beings reflecting on the numerous painting that lined the wall. They moved at a leisurely pace that put them on track to walk right past their host.

Just as they were about to pass the man, Hera tripped over the hem of her dress, her drink crashed to the floor as she landed in the unsuspecting Count’s arms. Kanan reached from her, pulling her back on to her feet and away from the startled Count.

“Count Herik!” Hera said in a thick Rylothian accent as she adjusted her headdress. “I-I am so sorry!”

The Count’s deep brown eyes landed on Hera, a slimy grin spreading across his face. He took her now empty hand in his own and brought it to his lips.

“It was merely an accident, my lady.” he said. “Enjoying the party I hope?”

“Oh yes!” Hera said breathlessly, still trying to regain her composure from the slip. “You have a lovely home Count.”

“I certainly hope so.” Count Herik chuckled. “I spent a fortune on it!” The crowd around them laughed at his joke and Kanan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Our apologies for the mess.” Kanan cut in. “But my wife, she isn’t feeling very well. We were about to leave.”

Count Herik flicked a disinterest glance at Kanan before turning his attention back to Hera. “I hope you get a chance to view the gardens before you leave my dear, I had some Rylothian vine flowers imported in just a few rotations ago. They seem to be taking to Naboo quite well.”

Kanan bit down on the inside of this cheek. “Perhaps on our way out.” Hera smiled at him, leaning heavily into Kanan. “Thank you again for such a wonderful evening.”

“Of course.” Count Herik nodded to her before stepping away. Kanan led Hera out of the ball room and into the hallway that would take them to the entrance. As soon as they were outside, Hera straightened and lifted a small data chip up between her fingers.

“The Count should really learn to protect his valuables.” she said with a smirk.

“Nice job Captain Hera.” Kanan said, taking the chip from her fingers and slipping it into the pocket of his pants. “Now let's get out of here before he realizes it’s gone.”

“He won’t know it’s gone until it’s too late.”

“You have a lot of practice in picking pockets?” He asked as he flagged down a hover taxi.

“More than you I bet.”

Kanan laughed. “Honestly, you’re probably right.” He held open the door for her as she climbed into the taxi, gathering her skirts around her delicately. They didn’t speak on the trip back to the space port, the glowing lights of Theed passing by out the window. At some point, Hera’s head fell onto his shoulder, her eyes closed. The metal of her headdress pressed uncomfortably against the bone but he didn’t mind. He let her rest until the spaceport came into view and the taxi slowed.

He helped her out of the cab and paid the driver before turning back to see Hera standing under the dim light of the street lamp looking tired but accomplished. A soft smile broke out on his face as he walked up to her.

“What?” she asked, arching a brow.

“Nothin’.” He replied walking with her towards the Ghost.

“Hey Kanan.” She said, pausing. “What I was going to say earlier…”

“Don’t worry about it Hera.” Kanan cut her off, not willing to break the pleasant mood that had fallen between them. He didn’t know what she wanted to tell him before, back on the dancefloor but he had a sinking suspicion that he wouldn’t like it. He rather be left wondering than have to confront the truth.

“No, I want to say it.” she grabbed on to his wrist, holding it tightly. “I’ve been wanting to say it for a while now.”

Kanan’s breath froze in his chest. “What is it?”

Hera bit her lip, her eyes searching his face as if it held the answer. Instead of saying anything, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. Kanan blinked at her in surprise as she pulled away, his mind going blank for the second time that day.

“I like you.” she said, still holding on to his wrist. “I know I said that my mission comes first and I stand by that but I can’t help the way I feel about you and I think you might feel the same way too.”

She was looking at him with a worried look on her face but Kanan couldn’t quite get past her words. She liked him. She had feelings for him. She was ready for them to be something more.

“Kanan could you please say something? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

Without thinking, Kanan pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She melted into him, her hands cupping the sides of his face as he spun them around in the air. They broke apart, breathless and smiling.

“I like you too,” he said. “If that wasn’t clear.”

Hera nipped at the side of his mouth. “I think you might need to explain it to me again.”

“Hera.” he said in between kisses. “I’ll explain it to you as much as you like.”

She rested her forehead against his. “I love you.” She whispered.

Kanan held her close, his whole world resting in his arms. “I love you too.”

#pretchatta #kanera #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #star wars: rebels #star wars #look at me write #shleby writes #you could always see me #one day i'll write an ending i'm happy with #also i hope i delivered on the romantic tension #and i now realize i never say what kanan was wearing #he has a cape like lando #and he is working it

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vminity21 · 3 years

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The Art of You | myg

Pairing: artist!yoongi x universitystudent!reader, friendshiptolovers!au

Word Count: 1,578

Genre: fluff/soft

Warning(s): None, Rated: pg

Summary: A painting Yoongi has been working on reveals his true feelings that he has for you in the most beautiful way imagined. Dedicated and was requested by @suhdays , who also created the beautiful banner for this blurb. Thank you.

A tan apron clings to Yoongi’s frame while he scrunches the sleeves of his sweatshirt halfway up his arms. Converse pat along the plastic flooring while he settles the painting onto the ground. It is nearly finished, and the inspiration is revealed in just the smallest intricacies- details that remind him of you. Gentle transmits of music reverberate within the small space, and he readies his paint upon the palette you gifted him a year prior before he discovered the budding emotions, he has for you.

Aligning a picture of what he plans on adding to the main canvas, he carefully traces the lining with his fingers, concentrating solely on whatever he intends on creating to make the masterpiece complete. Dark strands flop past his eyes while he positions himself over the canvas, palette steady in his left hand while his free hand grips the handle of a petite paintbrush. Two bracelets decorate his painting wrist, but he is ever so careful than to let them touch any part of the dampened streaks.

Heavy footsteps trample into the room, slinging your bookbag over a chair in the corner, a brief sigh brushes your lips. Yoongi knew you would be due soon from your class at university, and you are too exhausted to fully pay attention to what Yoongi is finalizing. He has been working on a new project for weeks now, but he refuses to tell you who it is for. Sometimes, Yoongi likes to keep to himself, especially when it comes to his art, yet he has been quite successful with some of the artwork he has accomplished and sold within the past year.

His lips grace a small smirk, happiness spreading along his chest with being in your presence- something he has been looking forward to all day. “Yoongi, I’m home,” you bellow, stacking a few notebooks onto the tiny table in preparation to continue the homework you would so graciously like not to do.

“About time you showed up,” he teases, swiping a bigger paintbrush along a plain sheet of paper to observe if this is the color he would like to use. Noticing the palette, he had set down for the moment, you smile to yourself. He really loves his palette- the only one he owns that you happened to give him, yet he refuses to buy more, especially since the one you bought him is covered in faint stains from past achievements. You never understood it, but he takes it with him everywhere he goes, and the one time he thought he forgot it, he almost lost his mind. Thankfully, Namjoon, Yoongi’s roommate, found it behind a dresser where it must have fallen without Yoongi’s knowledge.

“I still don’t get why you are panicking, Yoons. I am sure there are some palettes in one of these stores here,” plus you did not have any issue with purchasing him another one, “Want to check them out?”

“Not really,” he murmured, timidly looking away from you while he anxiously awaited the doting text from Namjoon. What you are unaware of, is that palette you surprised him with is the truest good luck charm he has ever received. Because of you, every time he used that specific palette, his artwork has been recognized by thousands of individuals throughout the country. Because of you, he is determined to continue his passion with the gift you gave him held firmly in his left hand.

“Okay,” you sigh softly in confusion, “Well then would you like to grab some coffee until Joon replies? I’m sure it will turn up.”

Yoongi shakes his head briefly to situate his hair while the memory dissipates for the time being. “How long have you been in here? Have you even eaten anything?” You always worry about him because when he gets too focused into what he is doing, sometimes he may forget to hydrate, as well as eat, yet you can relate due to college being so overwhelming. You notice the white mask tucked under his chin, his earrings gleam beneath the light, and you cannot help but fondly gaze at how handsome your friend is. You met him a year ago, and although you have always had feelings for him, you feared that he didn’t feel the same, and when you stumbled upon his talent for the arts, you were determined to gift him with something related to what he loves to do.

“I was thinking we could grab dinner as soon…” his words trail as he dots the brush along certain areas of the canvas. You can’t help but curiously tilt your head to see if you can figure out what it is, he is creating, but from the angle and distance from where Yoongi is, you can’t quite see it yet. “… as I am…” He is so enraptured in his work that he forgets to finish his sentence and you playfully shake your head at him before turning to your studies.

Uncertain of how much time has ticked away into the evening, you do not understand how Yoon’s thighs cannot be burning from how long he poses in deep concentration. “Who needs exercise,” you joke, running your fingertips along your eyes to awake them if even possible. “You know,” you bring your voice up in volume for Yoongi to hear, “I’m not going to lie, I’m actually excited to see what you’ve conjured up,” you confess; there has not been a completion that you haven’t loved from Yoongi’s extraordinary talent.

“It’s definitely different from what I’ve done before,”

“Oh really?” Your attention is now returned to your notebook and with pencil in hand, you scribble random lines along the sides to prevent yourself from blushing. He has such an effect on you, and you wonder how he hasn’t realized it. “What inspired it? Give me a clue.”

“You mean, who?”

Pausing, with furrowed eyebrows, you ponder through your brain on who Yoongi could be referring to. “It’s a who this time?”

“Believe it or not,” he says, and you hadn’t taken into account the way he places his hands on his hips, longingly staring at you while you rack your thoughts with whatever guess you can muster.

“Okay but where’s my clue?”

“Hm,” he hums to himself trying to not make it as obvious as he would like to, especially if it risks scaring you away. “She loves to getaway. More so when it’s cold and the atmosphere contains the scenery she needs.”

A she? Surprised by the revelation, your heart shatters in different directions, yet you compile yourself enough to remain composure. “A getaway?” You choke, trying to lower your voice to not appear as shocked as you feel. “I’m assuming in the winter?”

“Mhm,” Yoongi responds, “Sometimes she wishes that she could see flowers there though, especially the ones that are her favorite. It’s simply hard when there is always so much snow.”

“Um, is it-?” Despite the tears wanting to burn down your cheeks, you guess a few names that come to mind, hardly being able to realize that Yoongi is talking about you. Exasperated after you have guessed so many wrong answers, Yoongi’s arms drop to his sides while he exhales slowly, gathering himself before sauntering to you. When a soft hand presses to your cheek, you lose all track of sanity; his lips touch yours so gently, it takes you a moment to realize what is happening. Oh! You gasp inwardly. Oh, you want to laugh at yourself for now you see that every fact he uncovered about his painting was him hinting about you.

Your fingers curl into his sweatshirt while you pull him closer, deepening the kiss while your heart flies sporadically along your ribcage. This whole entire time- he has been working on a painting inspired by you. And, this entirety of your friendship, he has thought of you lovingly as much as you have thought about him?

Breathless, he pulls away, but just enough to rest his forehead upon yours, his bangs tickle your face. “Are you ready to see the painting?”

Nodding, you are at a loss for words, the sensation of his kiss still lingering while he takes your hand. Following suit, he bends swiftly to lean the piece against the wall, accepting your hand in his once again as soon as it steadies. Gasping, your eyes widen at the most beautiful scenery you have ever witnessed. Snow capped mountains sketched meticulously with splashes of blues and greys mingle in precise detail to the sparse blades of grass poking from the blanket of white covering the ground. The sky alludes to the beginning of a snowfall, but what your vision gathers in the center of the painting is what touches your heart in ways Yoongi has always been able to prompt.

A bundle of magenta peonies are painted to be growing in resistant to the brutal winds of winter, and in tiny, neatly stroked letters exposes the words you never thought you would hear, or in this case, read.

“I love you.” Yoongi whispers, squeezing your hand as you take it all in.

“Yoongi, it’s- it’s the most beautiful gift.” You cry, him embracing you immediately, the scent of his sweatshirt reaching your nostrils as you cuddle into his frame. “I love you so much.”

And with that, forever awaits, Yoongi expressing his love in a way only he knows how- painted contentedly to the art of you.

#bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #kafenetwork #heartsforbts #min yoongi #yoongi blurb #bts #bts blurb #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi soft #artist yoongi #bts fluff #bts soft #1k +

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hawkland · 3 years

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Destiel fic recs #3 - the (mostly) longfic edition!

It’s been a while since my last rec post - mostly because I’ve been wallowing in a number of longer fics (50-350k!) so it’s taken me a while to have enough to talk about in one post (and boy do I talk a lot, here!)

With these longer fics, I do sometimes have some caveats with my recs - or at least reasons why they might not appeal to every Dean/Cas reader. But note that if I didn’t overall strongly recommend reading the fic I wouldn’t include it in my recs here at all, so any quibbles I bring up are minor compared to my overall enjoyment of the stories. Just, I don’t want someone to commit to a long read without knowing what they’re getting into and why it might not be their thing.

I’m still not into reading complete setting AUs at this time, but a lot/most of these are canon-divergence AUs, often written/set at the end of a season and giving an alternative take on what happened next. I love those kind of stories, as it’s often so interesting to see how fans thought of what might happen in the next season (especially when it’s better than what we actually got.)

Onto the recs & discussion behind the cut!

The Sinking Ship by UnfortunatelyObsessed (114k). This is a story that ripped my heart to pieces (in a good way!). I stayed up all night to finish reading because I simply couldn’t stop once I started on it and it gave me a massive fic hanger from all my emotions. Season 14 divergence, imagine if Dean did go into the Ma’lak box to trap Michael under the ocean with him forever...and once there, he discovers that Cas has stowed away with him. Because of course Cas would never leave Dean to such a fate on his own.

I loved literally. Every. Damn. Thing. About this fic. Cas telling Dean stories to pass the (endless) time. Their small intimate moments while realizing they can never consummate physically while trapped in the box but finding every other way to express their love. The absolute heartbreak that had me SOBBING when Michael fights for control of Dean and destroys everything they’ve built together and Cas thinks he’s lost Dean forever. Sam & Gabriel & Rowena & Claire & Jack doing everything they can to devise a plan back home to try to save them both while keeping Michael trapped. Also even just the wonderfully sensitive portrayal of aroace Jack still closely bonded with Claire and Maggie and just. And just. This is a story I’ve already re-read just to savor how much I loved it and its portrayal of everyone in TFW 2.0 and their extended family, it just hit my id in all the most incredible ways and I have nothing but absolute love for this one.

Beautiful Chaos by anyrei, mugglerock (141k). Season 9 canon-divergence, in which Dean doesn’t simply abandon Cas to fend for himself post 09x03. Instead he sets Cas up in a kind of squatter’s nest in an abandoned building near the bunker so he can keep tabs on him and help him out.

This fic definitely gets the award for FILTHIEST, HOTTEST, SMUTTIEST Dean/Cas (and Cas/other) I’ve read in, like, ever, for human!Cas turns out to be a rather insatiable sex fiend/cock slut and Dean is too up his own repressed ass to easily give Cas what he wants/needs. It is dark at times, Cas ends up in some very unsavory/non-con situations, and the authors do mention that they tried to hone in on endverse!Cas’s characterization more than what we saw in Season 9...so you might roll with it, you might not. I adored their original character Jerry the tattoo artist in this, and like I said it was seriously hot (if you are good with total bottom!Cas and Cas with others, I know those are not everyone’s cuppa). I did have a few minor issues. For one, the last chapter felt a bit rushed and hand-wavey, but clearly the authors weren’t fond of the canon conflicts of season 9 & 10 (Abbadon, Mark of Cain) and just wanted to be done with them. Can’t say I really blame them. And I did have to laugh a bit at Lebanon, Kansas apparently having such a bustling gay bar/tattoo artist/etc scene being someone from a butt-fuck nowhere American small town myself. But, SPN was never all that realistic in how Lebanon was shown (and yes I’ve spent too much time roaming around it on Google maps), so if you can suspend some disbelief this is an awesome hot/angsty/occasionally heartbreaking read.

These Forsaken Lands by destielpasta (53k). I came upon this story when looking for fics that dealt in some way with the aftermath of Godstiel. This is a wonderfully atmospheric late Season 9 “fill-in” case fic (post Meta-fiction) where Cas ends up in a small town that had been visited by Godstiel...and while initially residents have reaped much good fortune, there has suddenly been a wave of deaths/bad events and he is determined to find out what happened and set things right. He calls upon Dean for help, but Dean is fighting the Mark of Cain and it’s going to take a lot to get past its control and find a way out for both of them. Together they work on repairing an old church while trying to repair each other and their damaged relationship.

I loved this story for how well written it was, really invoking a gothic small-town/Americana atmosphere. The original characters blend in very well with the case-fic at the center of it, and the author deals really well with Cas at a very fragile point when he’s running on borrowed grace and trying to navigate Dean’s MoC-enhanced anger. It’s Dean/Cas but actually much more of a Cas character study, so I highly recommend it to my fellow/compatriot Cas-girls who love a good wallow in his head.

Mixed Emotions by Tierra469 (50k). Canon 12 “parallel” fic that then goes canon-divergent with the season finale. I actually stumbled on this while in the mood to read some Cas/ or & Mary fic after enjoying their interactions in Season 12 (don’t hate me). This is sort of two fics in one. The first half focuses mostly on filling in the gaps with some critical S12 Cas episodes, especially Cas & Mary’s developing friendship (and one night of something more). But of course Cas’s feelings for Dean (and vice-versa) are always there, and when Cas figures out a way to get his powers fully back, the question is if Dean can open himself up to be vulnerable - and express love - the way Cas needs for this to work.

This was an interesting fic in a lot of ways. I loved the author’s take on angels’ connections to their vessels and grace, it was very consistent in a way the show sometimes/often wasn’t. Cas is very Cas in not understanding privacy and personal boundaries (so he does some questionable things, admittedly, which might squick some readers). The smut is fucking HOT - though I will caution at one point it involves Cas temporarily in a younger (NOT underage) female vessel (and the story does point out Dean’s discomfort with this and some of the consent issues involved, I don’t want to spoil too much). I wanted the Mary plot resolved more than it was, but I still recommend this story strongly for the quality of the writing and unique/well-developed take on angel lore and mechanics that was quite different from what I’m used to reading.

We Are Either Here Or Not Here by petramacneary (54k) A post-season 12 fic that goes on a different tangent to how Cas returns, and what happens in the meantime. Particularly, it offers a different take on what apocalypseverse!Cas would be like—as Mary makes her own way back from that world with AU!Cas as her prisoner.

What I loved about this story: first off, BAMF!Mary is awesome here. Dean is so heartbreaking, not quite knowing what the fuck to do with this different Cas who at times is just a painful reminder of who/what Dean’s lost...but then becomes a chance for Dean to say and express some of the things he always was afraid to in the past. And when (real/our) Cas finally returns, there’s some very interesting stuff that happens with both Cas & AU!Cas and Cas & Dean that I don’t want to spoil. (And let’s also just say that when real!Cas and Dean finally get together it’s AMAZINGLY awesome. Like, hot Impala!sex. So is the artwork that goes with this story.)

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (353k) The longest fic I read this time around and probably the one I have the most mixed feelings about, but a while on I do keep thinking about parts of it so I do rec it with some caveats. This is a canon-divergence after the end of Season 11. Dean & Sam find Cas after he’s been blasted out of the bunker...to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Mary isn’t in this one except for a brief appearance/visit, which Dean thinks is Amara’s gift to him. Life seems good for a while, they’re enjoying dealing with mundane problems for a change, but then Cas seems to be pulling away from the brothers, spending less and less time with them at the bunker, taking a mundane job at another Gas ‘n Sip, and clearly preoccupied by something else. Or is it someone else? Dean is worried yet finally ready to accept that Cas maybe has a girlfriend, or a boyfried, but then it turns out that is not at all what Cas has going on. It’s something far more serious than that.

Honestly I almost stopped reading when the reveal happened - it’s a subject that’s very sensitive to me from personal/family experience and not something I usually like reading in fic (especially if there is a sad ending.) So I admit I jumped ahead to read how it would end first before committing to finishing it. And I am glad I did, because the author handles the subject matter with a realism and obvious knowledge of experience as well, not how I often see it in fanfic. There are a lot of emotional ups and downs but it’s nice seeing Dean in his momma-hen/mode, and Sam is so so good in this one! I think I enjoyed Sam’s characterization here most of all! And the author has a really cool/well developed angel/wing lore that hit my wing-kink pretty hard. I do think it could have all been edited down a bit - I found myself skimming parts, especially in the last third, just to get on with things. But it’s definitely a story you can disappear into for a good long time and I’ve bookmarked the author’s other works to read later, so again, I do rec it even with a few caveats.

A few shorter fics, too, just because I don’t want to forget about them...

Eleven Erogenous Zones of a Fallen Angel by almaasi (15k) Pure gratuitous wing!kink for me :) Cas uses the last of his grace to manifest his wings...but then is stuck with them in his human form and not even able to use them to fly as he used to. This presents a lot of awkward problems to deal with but also the excuse for Dean to help him keep them clean :) I did say wing kink, right? :D :D I loved how Cas seemed confused about the pleasure signals he got from bathing vs. sex vs. grooming and all of that. It’s sweet and hot and has my favorite kind of caretaking Dean in it.

Fossil Tracks by SegaBarrett (3k). Dean & Sam & Cas and dinosaurs. How can you go wrong with that? One of the SPN stories from the Id Pro Quo collection I really enjoyed reading (and didn’t write myself, lol).

#destiel recs #my fic recs #deancas recs #fandom that ate my life hello #destiel fic recs #my destiel recs

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starrynite7114 · 4 years

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Body Art (Angel Reyes)

A/N: Good morning everyone! This was done last night, but work was insane and I didn’t have a chance to post it. Hope you all enjoy this one. It was one of my requests that I have not had the chance to do. But I finally got to do it! I’m making my way through my request list right now, so hopefully I’ll get everyone’s request done soon.

The request list link is below, please check if your request is there, if it is now, let me know so I can put it in! Still currently taking requests if you all would like to make one.

Art smut with angel Reyes! He asks you to let him do body art on you. All front and you’re wearing panties right and he asks you to take your bralette/ bra off and he’s like woah and yea lol - @cherry-icetea

Sorry it took so long love! Hope you enjoy! <3

Enjoy!

Masterlist

Request List tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @ifoundmyhappythought : @iambabyharry : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @briannab1234 : @carlaangel86 : @twistnet : @marvelmaree : @blackmissfrizzle : @thickemadame : @woahitslucyylu : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespasta : @sesamepancakes : @enamoured-x : @encounterthepast : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @elcococruz : @gemini0410 : @cherry-icetea : @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @xserenax-13 : @whyisgmora : @samcrobae : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @lady-pswrld

You and Angel have been quarantined together for a month.

While you two enjoyed the other’s company, the movies and television shows to binge on was slimming down. You both loved nature and craved to be outside. You missed being able to just walk outside without a worry.

But you also knew not to be selfish.

This was for the better and it was going to save lives.

But you both were surprised that you haven’t wanted to kill one another. Surprisingly enough, you two enjoyed one another’s company and gave the other space when needed. You two shared a two bedroom apartment. It was nice to share your apartment with a friend, especially one you met through your ex-schoolmate Ezekiel. You and Ezekiel had become close during your first semester at Stanford and when you found out of his fate, you visited him weekly. He didn’t close you off and you were thankful for that. One time you came and his family was there, you met his big brother, Angel and his father Felipe.

The attraction to Angel was immediate, but you kept everything at bay since you both were in different places.

But somehow, four years after meeting, you found yourself in Santo Padre. While you two texted often, you didn’t hang out with Angel much. When he offered to room with you when you immediately moved to Santo Padre, you were hesitant at first, but you realized that there was no other person you would want to room with besides Angel.

Work brought you to Santo Padre. Currently, you were a teacher at the high school. It was nerve wrecking since teenagers could be little shits, but somehow, they enjoyed your world history facts that you always taught them.

Living with Angel was a delight. He always brought you home food when he could and helped you cook when he could. He did your laundry for you when he was doing his. Always made sure your oil was changed for your car and everything. And it was always a plus to see Angel walking around shirtless. That man was a god and if you just had some guts, you would jump him, but there was always this unspoken thing between you two. EZ was his younger brother and you were EZ’s best friend, you two were just not allowed to be together, for EZ’s sake.

Regardless, that didn’t mean your attraction was nonexistent. Angel was very attracted to you, and he has been for years, but his promise to his brother always trumped his desire for you.

However, with this quarantine in place and the time he spent with you, Angel found it harder to resist you. Walking in those booty shorts of yours that showed off your assets. He was a strong man, but there was just so much he could take.

One of the best things about living with Angel was the artwork. He painted your room, the artwork suited you so well. You loved watching Angel paint. Your favorite thing to do was reading a book while Angel painted on the ground, concentrating on his next masterpiece. If this outlaw biker thing didn’t work, he could totally open up a gallery.

Currently, you both were on the couch, finishing up the Punisher. Angel had his head on your lap, as you watched the show intently, digging the storyline and enjoying the eye candy.

“This show is amazing.” You praised it as the ending credits came on.

Angel clicked his tongue. “Or you mean the guys are hot?”

“Don’t be jealous Ignacio, you’re still the apple of my eye.” You pinched his cheek, causing Angel to push your hand away, but he chuckled, loving the feel of your skin on his. It was pathetic really, but he promised EZ he would never fall for you. He thought that maybe EZ was in love with you, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Want to take a break from watching?”

“Sure, what you got in mind? If you say let’s fuck, I’m going to slit your throat.”

“I love it when you threaten me.” Angel chuckled, sitting up. “Want to help me paint?”

“You know I don’t have an ounce of talent for art in my body.” You’ve painted with Angel a few times and he always told you how you were getting better, but you somehow doubted that. Angel was a great teacher, really nice too. Maybe if he didn’t want to do the art gallery, he could definitely be a teacher.

“No, let me paint you.” Angel really enjoyed your presence whenever he was painting, he felt inspired and encouraged whenever you were around.

Angel has never requested to paint you before. Wait, that’s a lie, he has numerous times but you always shut him down and made an excuse to leave. He knew that you wouldn’t be able to make an excuse today. You were stuck at home after all.

“Me? No way.” You shook your head. “I feel like we can FaceTime someone and you can paint them instead.”

“Come on mi dulce, I’ve always wanted to paint you.” He took your hand in his, trying to ignore the butterflies and the spark that just coarse through your body.

“Angel, let me FaceTime Kristin, remember how hot you thought she was?” You were really trying to get out of this as best as you can. You couldn’t keep still and there was no point in painting you.

He recalled making that comment, but he only said it to get a reaction out of you, which obviously didn’t work. “Nope, I want you.” The way he said it, it made the butterflies in your stomach move around even more wildly than before.

“Can you just not paint me and say you did?” You offered.

“You don’t trust me?”

“No, I’m just shy.”

Angel smirked. “Shy? You don’t have to be shy with me.” He stood up, taking your hand and taking you to his room. “Do me a favor mama, strip to your bra and panty.”

“What?!” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Come on baby girl, you won’t be fully naked.” He tried to ease your shyness.

“Alright fine, but I expect to be compensated for this.” You were comfortable with your body, but this was also Angel who most likely has seen so many beautiful girls naked. And he may have also slept with you before, it was a drunken night which you remembered well however, you weren’t sure if he did. He’s never mentioned it and you didn’t want to be the one to do so.

As you took off your clothing, Angel immediately regretted asking you to be his model. He’s always imagined how you would look in your unmentionables and he was beginning to forget about his promise to EZ and well, he was fucking forgetting EZ.

He’s seen it all before. He was buzzed that night, but he definitely wasn’t drunk. At times, you haunted his dreams, seeing you naked could make any man go crazy and it fucked up Angel. He didn’t even know how to approach the subject and quite frankly, since you didn’t mention it, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to embarrass you or himself.

That one night three months, two weeks, and five days ago was embedded in his mind. He never told EZ about it knowing it would upset his younger brother. But seeing you before him now, Ezekiel could go fuck himself.

“Angel?” You broke him away from his thoughts, biting your lip nervously.

“Sorry, fuck.” He chuckled. “You look fucking gorgeous, querida.”

God when this man spoke Spanish? Used a term of endearment for you in Spanish? It made your thighs clench together because all you wanted to do since that night maybe 3-4 months ago, was fuck Angel again. But with his relationship with EZ just being repaired again, you didn’t want to have them fighting over this. You understood why EZ was protective of you, you technically just had him, but it was also quite annoying.

“Thanks.” You smiled shyly. “How do you want me?”

“You want to lay down? Just so it’ll be more comfortable.”

“Sure.”

Laying down on the floor, Angel looked at your bralette which was burgundy at the area of the cups with flowers branching up from the sides, the bottom of the bralette was black lace. Angel bit his bottom lip, thinking of how he could connect your bra to your panties. Your panties were burgundy, matching your bralette, with lace at the top of your underwear.

You watched as Angel’s eyes roamed up and down your body. It was comfortable, oddly, not creepy whatsoever, but then again, this was Angel. Even though he had this intimidating presence, he was a fucking teddy bear that loved affection and being spoiled.

“Can you at least give me a pillow?” You requested.

Angel chuckled, handing you a pillow. “Don’t know if I told you yet, but you look absolutely stunning.” He began to feel nervous, unsure if he could actually do this. But he reasoned that of course he could, why wouldn’t he be able to do so? He was an artist, he could push his desire for you to the side while he was touching your body.

Fuck. He was screwed.

Taking out the paint for him to use, he picked burgundy, white, green and a light shade of blue. He had this picture in his mind that he wanted to portray on your body, but all he could picture was having you naked, your sweaty body against his, you breathily moaning, gasping out his name. He shook his head, trying to concentrate. He could paint on you, this was going to be easy.

Angel began to paint on the black lace of your bralette, a giggle escaping your lips. He chuckled, forgetting how ticklish you were. This whole quarantine has been ridiculous, but he never knew how much he would enjoy life just being at home, but that had a lot to do with you. At first you had offered EZ to stay with you two, but EZ insisted on staying with Felipe. Angel didn’t mind, he wanted you all to himself. Even though you two have been roommates, he didn’t know much about you. He barely found out that you were afraid of heights even though you went hiking with him whenever you two had the chance to do so. He also didn’t know you could handle your liquor better than any of the fucking guys, which thoroughly impressed him. He also didn’t know that you have four tattoos, all on your back, that represented major events in your life.

He also didn’t know how much he’s been avoiding his feelings for you till he was stuck at the apartment with you with nowhere to go.

“Is this the set I got you for Christmas?” You asked him as he began his work on you.

“Yeah, it was. I’ve used a majority of the set except for this.” Christmas, it was three days after that you two slept together. Angel woke up and you weren’t in his bed anymore. He was going to bring it up, but it seemed every time he tried, it just never happened. “Do you remember what happened a few days later?”

“When we got plastered and played a prank on EZ?”

It was a few hours before you two slept together. EZ was sleeping so you and Angel had the idea of using a feather and shaving cream, tickling EZ on certain spots on his face till he was fully covered. EZ didn’t wake up till Gilly and Coco busted out in laughter when they walked into EZ covered with shaving cream.

“Oh yeah, good times.” Angel chuckled. You felt his fingers moving across your stomach, spreading the paint. “Why are you so tense?”

“Cause I’m trying not to be ticklish.”

“Or maybe I make you nervous?” You could hear the smugness in his voice.

“Nervous? For what?”

Fuck it.

“I don’t know, you tell me mi dulce.” He moved on your other side, to paint that side. It wasn’t his best work, but he just wanted to touch you. “So do you remember that night?”

“I remember bits and pieces of it.” You were being truthful, but it seemed that Angel was trying to have that long awaited talk. It’s not like you didn’t want to discuss it, you just didn’t know where to start.

‘Hey, remember the time we fucked? Just wanted to let you know that you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.’

Yeah, that would go over well.

“Do you remember when we had sex?” Angel was playing it nonchalant, painting random patterns on your skin. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing anymore, but he just needed something to distract him, in case you rejected him.

“Yes, I do.”

“Why’d you leave me alone on my bed?”

“Come on Angel, you don’t want to have this conversation.” You didn’t. Angel always seemed forbidden and they were so right that forbidden fruit tasted so much fucking better. You were certain that you and Angel had sex at least four times that night.

“I do, you don’t? I promised Ezekiel that I would never make a move on you, but to be fucking honest, I don’t really give a fuck anymore.” Angel noticed then that he had painted angel wings below the lace of your bralette. He bit his lip, just thinking of how beautiful you would look with something he created tattooed on you.

“What are you talking about?” You slightly sat up, looking over at Angel. He softly pushed you back down so he could continue painting, or whatever the fuck he was doing.

“I like you, I’ve liked you for quite some time but I haven't made a move cause Ezekiel asked me not to.”

You were speechless, unsure of what to reply. You like Angel too, but you were wondering if he just liked you now cause there was no one else to sleep with. But he wouldn’t say those words to you just to get in your pants, it would ruin everything.

“You're kind of making me nervous here.” Saying his feelings aloud made Angel feel vulnerable, made him feel terrified of what the outcome could be.

“I’ve liked you for some time too, but I just figured you didn’t want to cross the line and I could respect that. I left you in bed that morning because I’m not good with rejection. We were both intoxicated and needed some release, I was cool with that.” You truthfully told him. “I think you’re an idiot for listening to Ezekiel.”

The brush strokes stopped and before you knew it, Angel was hovering over you, his lips on yours. His lips were warm, just as you remembered, parting slightly along with yours, his tongue slipping in your mouth. Your hands were on his neck, scratching the back of it. He groaned into your mouth before he pulled away. His eyes roamed down your body, biting his lips as he did.

“Fuck baby, can I take off your clothes?” His voice was so intoxicating, it became deeper. You remembered his voice the most that night. Angel was very vocal, which didn’t surprise you. His mouth made you fucking go insane.

You nodded your head. Angel removed your bralette, licking his lips as his thumb played with your nipple, grazing it softly before rolling it in between two fingers. You bit back a moan, arching into his touch. You’ve slept with a few people after Angel and you were upset how he ruined other men for you. Angel knew your body so well, that one night fucking ruined you and you honestly weren’t even mad about it.

“Are you wet baby girl?” His hand drifted down to your underwear, his art work was slowly being lost with every movement of his fingertips against your skin, but he didn’t care. Your body was art for him, the way you were taking a breathy gasp was music to his ear. He couldn’t wait to hear your moans again. He’s fucked other women after you and he would call out your name, even though the moans, the scent, the feel wasn’t the same.

“Yes,” you answered.

Angel’s fingers slipped underneath your underwear, running a finger up and down your slit. Circling your clit a few times, you moaned out his name, feeling yourself become wetter with every touch. He slipped a finger inside you, pulling it out and adding another when he slipped it back in. Your legs voluntarily widened, accommodating him as he kneeled in front of you. He slipped your underwear down your legs, you were bare in front of him now and he felt his cock twitched as he watched your pussy swallow his fingers.

“Are my fingers stretching you enough baby? Preparing you for my cock?” He kissed your lips, moving down your neck, nibbling, marking you as his. Looking down at his artwork that was smeared by his own fingertips, he had to say that it didn’t look terrible whatsoever, your skin was glistening with sweat. “Can I take a picture of you baby, take on my runs?”

All you could feel was Angel’s fingers working their magic on you. His words registered, but as much as you wanted to fight him about having your nakedness on his phone, it was kind of hot.

“Okay.”

“Yeah baby? Fuck.” Angel got his phone that was on the coffee table, smirking as he opened up the camera app. Your face was covered by your arm, which he didn’t mind. He already had so many pictures of your face, but this was different. He took some pictures before putting his phone away. He felt your pussy clenching as he continued to go in and out, stroking your clit every once in a while. “Oh baby, I feel that. Querida, you cumming?”

“Fuck, yes Angel, holy fuck.” You cried out, back arching as you came.

“For months, I’ve been waiting to see you in this state again, to hear you moaning out my name in a blissful state. Hearing it again, seeing it again, I won’t ever be able to have my fill of you.” He continued to move his finger in and out of you as he said that, helping you through your orgasm.

“I’m feeling it again,” the feeling was building in your stomach, again. You heard Angel chuckle as he took his fingers away, causing you to whine.

He took off his shorts and his shirt, sitting against the couch. He pumped himself as you licked your lips, remembering just how good his cock felt inside of you.

“Like what you see?” Angel held his hand out to you.

You nodded your head, crawling over to him.

“No time for you to suck my dick baby, I need to be inside of you.” He watched as you stood up and slowly squatted in front of him, making him groan. Slowly, you sink down on his cock, stopping every once in a while to adjust to him. He threw his head back, the sensation was incredible. “Look at that pussy stretching to fit my dick.” He rubbed his thumb around your slit, using the wetness to wet it so he could rub your clit.

Throwing your head back, Angel watched the look of pure pleasure on your face, memorizing it. He knew this wouldn’t be the last time he would have you, like he said, he didn’t care what Ezekiel thought. They were adults, you’re a grown ass woman, EZ could suck it up.

You had your hands on Angel’s shoulder, using it as leverage as you moved up and down his cock. The burn, the stretch, everything about it felt amazing. If there was one thing you remembered vividly about that night all those months ago, it was how well you fit with Angel. Maybe it was cliche to say, but you didn’t care, his cock just felt so damn good.

“You feeling good mi dulce, you missed my dick?”

“Do you ever shut up?” You groaned as you felt your movements speeding up, trying to chase that euphoric feeling.

“I could, but I know how much you like my filthy mouth.” Angel pulled you against him, your chest against one another. He wrapped his arms around you, trapping you against him. His hips thrusted upward, hard and fast, and you just took in the onslaught, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm hit not a few minutes later. He continued to fuck into you, causing you to scratch his sides, moaning out his name over and over again. He slowed down, letting go of you.

Your head landed on his shoulder, your hand on his stomach. “Give me a minute.”

Angel chuckled. “My dick too much for you baby? Don’t worry, we’re gonna be fucking so much, you’ll learn how to keep up with me.” He kissed your shoulder. “This pussy is mine now, hell, it’s been mine since that night.” He pulled you away from him so that he could kiss you, his tongue entering your mouth. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, helping you move up and down as his lips touched yours, his breath just hot against your lips. “We sleeping in the same room now baby.”

It wasn’t even a question, it was a statement.

“My room, I don’t like your bed.” You kissed him again. Pulling away, you ran your fingers through your hair.

“Don’t care which room, as long as you’re in my arms.” Angel laid you on your back, bending your knees and holding them at the back. Looking down at where you two were joined, he smirked. “Can’t believe I listened to EZ.”

“Such a good older brother.” You teased Angel. “Shit Angel, go faster.”

“You don’t like this pace baby? You don’t like it when I go slow, taking my time on you?” Angel ran his hands up and down your thighs, moving it down to your stomach as his art was smeared all around. “I wanna design a tattoo for you querida.”

“No, we have time for that later. Fuck me.” Angel chuckled. “If you fuck me good enough then you can design whatever you want for me.”

You saw how Angel’s eyes darkened, he had your legs hanging on his shoulders. He pounded into you, in and out at a fast pace. You slightly regretted challenging Angel, but this felt so fucking good.

“This hard enough for you baby?” He taunted.

You nodded your head. “It feels so good.”

“Yeah you do, you feel fucking amazing querida.” Angel groaned. “You look so beautiful underneath me baby, you’re just gripping my dick baby. This is my pussy, ain’t no one else ever going to see you this way from now on. Fuck those puto’s you took home.”

Taking one of his hands that was beside your head, you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking on it before you directed it towards your clit. Angel immediately followed your order and rubbed it.

“You look so good like this.” Your eyes were closed, toes curled, and lips bitten. You hold onto one of his arms, nails digging into his skin and he fucking loved it.

“Angel!” You cried out as your orgasm finally came. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He followed right after you, moaning out your name as well. He pulled out, the emptiness making you whimper. Angel helped you up, his cum dripping down your leg. He smirked as he watched it go down and you rolled your eyes.

“Such a guy.” You playfully pushed him.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his cock was already semi-hard.

“You ready for round two, cause we ain’t fucking leaving our bed till at least Monday.”

It was only Thursday.

#angel reyes #angelreyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc fanfic

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madyxtothemax · 3 years

Text

The Pit Stop - Part One with @MyArrowBends

Atticus:

-After a few days, the roads and sights began to blur together. Each truck stop was the same. The coffee all tasted the same and the bathrooms were all equally disgusting. I had enjoyed the solitude at first, but was now beginning to get a little stir crazy, and despite having bought a thicker foam for the bed, it still wasn’t the greatest sleep I’d ever had.

As I crossed into California, I found myself craving human interaction, and more important than that, I had decided one way or another I would be sleeping in an actual bed tonight. As I gassed up at another same looking, shitty coffee making gas station, I didn’t bother checking google for any nearby hotels, figuring I’d stop when I grew tired and see what was close at that point.

The hours passed and the sun was inching down toward the horizon with a speed that my van couldn’t seem to match. Dusk had settled and on the horizon I could see a cluster of lights that belonged to a city. I wasn’t sure which one it was, it didn’t matter. I had stopped paying attention to the names at this point since I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I would know when I was ready to stop and until I felt that feeling, I’d keep driving west.

As the city lights grew closer, that same feeling of from earlier in the day returned. I was ready to find a motel for the night, maybe even somewhere I could grab a drink and a greasy burger. The potential for brief human interaction had a grin pulling the corners of my lips up.

Still, I avoided searching something out on my phone, wanting to see what I could find on my own. Exiting off the freeway, and making my way toward the city, my eyes searched the buildings as I passed them by. Disappointingly, nothing much seemed to be open...at least nothing that grabbed my attention or sparked any interest. I wanted to find something local, I wasn’t interested in any kind of franchise. Those places were not geared toward any kind of interaction, speed and efficiency was their purpose.

Finally after a few turns bringing me deeper into the city, I spotted a neon sign. The bright OPEN flashing in the door was the only invitation I needed. Admittedly, I wasn’t paying proper attention because I was still needing to keep an eye on the road, but as I pulled my van over to the sidewalk and looked up at the sign to fully read it, I couldn’t stop my laughter as it filled the quiet around me.

A tattoo shop.

I was not a collector of skin art, even though I liked it, I had never really felt a desire or pull to permanently mark my body with any sort of image. But I could see people inside, and I could go in and look around. I could get that human interaction I was craving even if I had zero intentions of getting a tattoo. Yeah. I could do that.

Twisting the key in the ignition to turn off the engine, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made my way toward the door, noting the time on the door before opening it. I paused to check the time on my phone...they weren’t too far from closing. Perfect. Just enough time to have myself a casual conversation with someone about something I’d never follow through on before finding myself some food and a bed to sleep on.-

Madyx:

<I’d woken with it, the unshakable intuition alerting me that something was on the way. Something for me to attend to. Something significant. Someone to benefit from my unique abilities. Something to shake up the doldrums of a monotonous wave of months.

As the hours in the day had passed like any other with a few window shoppers, bookings and not much more, whatever I had been anticipating hadn’t materialized. My intuition wasn’t normally so off, in fact I momentarily wondered if I’d pissed off the wrong people and lost my privileges. But, nah, I couldn’t shake it, even as the hours ticked down to less than fifteen minutes before the neon went dark.

Having just finished with the people who’d shown up to book a session with Jordan, I was relegated to the idea I’d served as a glorified personal assistant for the day. Hell, I hadn’t even done a single piercing, let alone expressed anything in ink. At least Jordan would be pleased with what I’d lined up for her; a lot of people looking to lose their memories and oh-so-many willing to accept whatever consequences came with those choices.

I had my back turned as the group of three left, the bell chiming their exit. Oddly, the shop didn’t feel empty; I wasn’t alone after all.

Turning, I was unsurprised to see a guy had wandered in just as the others had left. First impression was strong: he looked road weary, like he’d been places, but he wasn’t weighted by fatigue - nope. He wore whatever travels he’d been on with an earnestness. He wasn’t unkempt, but it looked like he hadn’t had a shave in a few days, and there was nothing that could have been done to conceal that he was damn gorgeous. I’d need to see more skin to know if there was any ink hidden under the clothes, and there were no visible piercings… visible being the operative word…

Right.

I detoured my thoughts from veering in the direction of the gutter and noted the feeling that surfaced during the day had morphed into something more tangible.

Well then.

I walked his way, which conveniently enough, was in the direction of the sign that was about to go dark. He, whoever he was, already had an unspoken invitation to stay as long as he liked.>

Hey man, anything I can help you with?

Atticus:

-As I stood at the door, hand gripping the handle while sliding my phone into my back pocket, I looked up in time to see three people headed my way. I swung the door open and held it for them, offering an easy smile as they passed and spoke with an excitement I suddenly realized I wanted to feel. Seeing it on others left me no choice but to notice that I was heavily lacking that type of emotion in my own life. Sure, I had bought my van and felt the excitement and when I hit the road, it was there. But it was surface level excitement.

I wanted to feel the rush of doing something impactful in my life. I still wanted to have some kind of human contact, and while my opinion and lack of desire to ink my skin hadn’t changed in the thirty seconds it took for me to hold a door open and walk inside the shop, I was definitely more open to suggestions.

The guy who was working had his back to me. That was fine, he was busy and I had all the time in the world to wait to be noticed. Rather than doing something obnoxious like clearing my throat, I turned and began to look at the flash on the walls. Each page was neatly framed and hung with obvious care. Not a single one was off kilter. It made me smile. Anyone who paid this much attention to detail truly cared about what they did. I was envious of their passion.

I didn’t even have artwork that had hung on the walls in my office back in New York. Maybe if I had, my attitude toward being stuck behind a desk all day would have improved. Likely not.

As I scanned a page filled with anchors, ships and pinup girls, a voice was directed at me. I had been so lost in my head, I forgot my entire reason for stepping into a shop I had no business being in. Turning my attention on the guy, I paused at his question. Shit. Instant attraction. I couldn’t remember the last time that had ever happened. My dick twitched as if to say, SURPRISE I still work! I felt completely disarmed. A fraud. An imposter. I couldn’t help the laugh that was two parts guilt and one part eagerness.

“...anything I can help you with…”

Was there anything he could help me with? ...yes there certainly was, but I really didn’t want to admit that or what my initial reaction to him had been. My eyes searched his face first and then his gaze as it remained on me. His eyes were warm and welcoming the way my beloved hoodie felt each time I put it on.

I was taking too long to answer but he didn’t seem to mind considering I was one of those assholes who showed up 15 minutes before closing. Remembering my entire reason for coming in here, to have a conversation with someone, I lifted my hand to the frame on the wall I had been looking at and grinned lazily at him, one side slightly higher than the other as I answered his question with one of my own.- Do you know who drew these?

Madyx:

<The closer I got, the better my last call was looking. He appeared to be admiring what he saw on the wall which was a lift to my confidence after a day of nada. I was starting to pick up on the energy he was throwing off, and it was coming through strong. He was rife with a quiet excitement, like he was flirting with epiphanies and on the edge of taking chances. I was feeling it on a vibration much higher than my norm. Instant clarity. I relaxed into myself after his arrival helped me shake that unrequited anticipation I’d battled all day.

When his eyes flicked off the art on the wall to me, I was ill prepared. His steel-blue irises were rimmed in navy, and subtly backlit; his gaze flecked with mischief. The cut of his jaw was a visual temptation outfitted with an infuriatingly attractive amount of scruff. His laugh broke me out of my preoccupation. It was telling, but only thanks to my extra sensory skills.

His grin though… that was what slayed me where I stood. Crooked and slow, even stretched his lips were full and fetching. Literally, I couldn’t have hand-picked the features of my non-type type more perfectly. He was exactly what I liked in a guy, at least physically.

The lift of his hand to indicate the frame on the wall brought up my stare. A confident grin preceded my answer.>

That would be me. But those are some of my more generic samples. I’ve got a book you can check if you’re in the market. Unless you’ve already got something specific in mind?

Atticus:

-The weight of this guy’s stare left me feeling some kind of way. At first, I thought I might be getting one of those he’s into you vibes, but then he answered my question and doubt began to creep back in. Maybe he was one of those people who were far too perceptive and he could smell the scent of wannabe all over me.

No, I didn’t have anything in mind. I wasn’t interested in getting a tattoo, which was how I felt before I opened the door. I just wanted to have a conversation. Seemed the only way for me to do that without him getting annoyed that I was wasting his time so close to the end of the day was to keep looking at his work. I could do that, wanted to, actually.

I shook my head, answering as honestly and non-committal as possible as his gaze hit me with a pointed once over. All right. I knew that look. I had given it out a time or two myself. I felt more confident as I found my voice again.-

No. I don’t have anything specific in mind. I’m not exactly the type to just fill my skin with ink. -I paused and considered how my words sounded then quickly added to it so as not to insult the guy who clearly had no problem filling his own skin with ink which I suddenly wanted to check out every bit of.- I mean, not without research, that is. I’d love to see your book.

-As he guided me to where a few different books sat on top of the glass countertop, I noticed each one had a different name on the spine. The one he gave me said Madyx. I grinned at him again and flipped open the cover. There were pages of photos of tattoos done on people. Some pages had drawings, too, and I took my time looking at each one. The silence between us was comfortable and easy. When my eyes landed on a particularly colourful image that took up someone’s entire back I paused to study it.- Wow. This one must have taken quite a while. Your work is incredible, Madyx.

-I chanced a glance his way as I said his name so he knew I wasn’t just blowing smoke up his ass, before looking back down and flipping another page. I was beginning to feel like I was leading him on knowing I wasn’t going to be in town long enough to commit any kind of time like that, even if I did want ink. Which in the three minutes since I last asked myself, still hadn’t changed. I couldn’t pull the trigger on something that permanent. Plus, a tattoo that large would have taken more than one session, I knew that much. As I shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out how to let him know I was sorry to have wasted his time, the light caught something below the glass counter. It was a showcase of sorts filled with what I assumed was body jewelry. My stomach lurched and adrenaline surged through my veins. I’d always been interested in getting a piercing, maybe...it was far less permanent than ink and wouldn’t take even a fraction of time.-

Do you only do tattoos? -Sliding the book to the side a little, I checked out the display of hardware with more than the curious interest I had previously given to his artwork.-

Madyx:

<Gorgeous seemed to be stalling. I sensed a reluctance I couldn’t quite define. I was starting to think it was definitely his first time, or maybe he was just feeling out the idea. BULLSEYE. He admitted as much by answering that he wasn’t the type to fill his skin with ink, but I wasn’t offended, nope. His eyes seemed to reflexively land on my own collection of pieces, and I wanted to invite him to gawk with those blues all he wanted.

I didn’t care if he didn’t want any work only that it might end up in him leaving sooner rather than later. I was not down with that. I almost missed when he caught his self-perceived fuck up, but was nearly punch-drunk when he took me up on the offer to check out my book. Normally I wouldn’t waste someone’s time if they weren’t actually intent on letting me scratch my artistic itch, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave and, duh, same page.

I handed off the book and he seemed to be truly checking it out. There was an excitement for me, one I hadn’t quite tasted. It was a thousand flavors, custom made...meant for me. Yeah, this was hitting way below the epidermis, into the bone, and below the belt, too. When he stopped on the page he did, my gut twisted in the best way, he just so happened to land on the favorite piece I’d ever laid down in ink. It had been inspired by Klimt’s “The Kiss” per the patron’s request, but with several liberties worked into the artistic elements. Instead of an obscure male and female, it was clearly two males. It had morphed from a symbolist piece to something more sci-fi and steampunk. There were three dimensional aspects and an inordinate amount of intricate details, like any provoking piece, it begged look after look. In total it had taken 36 hours in six sessions. I would have got lost thinking about it if something else hadn’t caught my attention - my name. The intention in his tone was unmistakable. Now we were getting somewhere.

I didn’t even care that we didn’t discuss that tatt he’d stopped on, it was logged into the distant past when his attention shifted to the display of body jewelry. I walked to the opposite side of the counter, light shining up from the backlit case, we were closer to face to face and hell-to-the-yes; I saw the change in his posture. We were REALLY getting somewhere.

I handle the piercings, too. <clearing the space of the books for the full view> But before we get to that, we need to level the playing field. Got a name or should I just call you gorgeous?

Atticus:

-Generally speaking, I was not always very quick to pick up the cues when someone was flirting with me. It usually took a couple of are they or aren’t they moments before I caught on and then properly joined in on the exchange of the flirting game. Tonight it only took me two of those moments. First when I caught sight of him looking me over and then again, just now when he called me gorgeous.

My grin at Madyx was instant and interested as I answered, holding out my hand to him for a shake, as proper dudes do.- Atticus.

-When his hand slid into mine, I gave it a solid squeeze, and chanced a light brush of my thumb over the back of his before releasing it. His hand was warm and slightly rough on the palm, not at all unpleasant, the kind of hand that knew how to do hard work and wasn’t afraid of it. Not at all like my paper-pushing, then couch lazing hands. The most work mine had been doing lately had been flicking a signal indicator for left and right.

As I returned my attention back to the display of body jewelry, I briefly thought about the other places I might enjoy the rough grip of his hands and damn near groaned. My dick was more than on board and before I could pitch any kind of tents of embarrassment, I considered piercing the damn thing just to get it to go back down. As far as ideas one might think about to initiate a cooling down effect on their body, this one should have worked for bringing my semi back to completely flaccid. Should have.

It didn’t.

The more I imagined Madyx jamming a needle through my most sensitive flesh, the more my pulse quickened and the more I discovered that I liked the idea. Fuck. Guess my body had decided for me. I now only needed to man up and tell the guy what I wanted. Vocalization time. If I couldn’t ask for the damn piercing, I did not deserve to have his hands on me, and that, judging by the sinking pit my stomach had just become was not at all what I wanted.

Given how everything else I had done since rolling into this town has been on impulse decision making, I let my mouth run without much consultation with my brain, and hoped for the best.-

I’d like to be handled. -Welp. That was a wide open innuendo of his own words that couldn’t be taken back now. Guess I wasn’t going with my usual subtle approach, then again, nothing about this encounter was close to my usual.- A piercing, maybe two? Do you have time tonight? I noticed the sign said you were closing right away. I can always come back tomorrow if you need to close up and get out of here...

-I wouldn’t keep him if he had somewhere else to be, but I really didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, I was too afraid of losing my nerve or even worse, waking up having decided I suddenly wanted an entire back piece devoted to body piercings. I shuddered at that particular thought before shaking my head, waiting to see if he was game for some over time before I even broached the topic of where I wanted him to pierce me.-

Madyx:

<There was the grin again, but this one drew me in like it was baited with something addictive. I wanted a taste. I also wanted to hear him say my name again, that was until he told me his.

Atticus.

As if I wasn’t already in deep shit with the grin, he had to go and share a name with one of my favorite literary characters. I wanted to roll it around in my brain on a loop, then say it out loud so I could see how it would feel in the slide off my tongue. I swallowed thickly and dropped my hand into the one he offered for a shake, setting off a chain reaction I had in no way expected.

Our hands fit like they belonged to each other, his warmth matched mine but his skin was smoother, more pliant. My eyes hit his just as I felt the subtle stroke of his thumb on mine. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and an electrifying buzz scaled my spine, then split and radiated north, east, south and west. My heart started to race in an erratic beat against my rib cage. When heat balled in my gut and prickled along the underside of my dick, it finally registered what was going on. Pleasure had always been my gift, but I had only played delivery boy and spectator so I hadn’t immediately recognized my receptivity. And it was specifically something about him…. I could feel his desire commingling with mine, the energy and tension between us behaving like a magnet...SNAP.

Shit. For the first time in my life I was on the other side of the glass I’d always looked through. He was human, it shouldn’t be possible, but his singular, innocent touch had been undeniably thrill inducing. My mind and body were both fully engaged. If it wasn’t for the loss of his hand and his next words, I probably would have stood there in silence like a mooning asshat…. Lost in his eyes and all that.

But, HELLO, he wanted to be handled. I crossed my arms casually over my chest and couldn’t suppress the sideways smirk that came on quick. I’d handle him all he wanted, and with curiosity layering on top of the attraction to him, I wasn’t going to be shy.

I kept getting hit with solid signals from him, they were unlike anything I’d ever felt, and somehow I knew he was also outside of his norm, but completely natural. My attention perked when he brought up piercings and something about coming back tomorrow.

Time to perish that thought.

Shaking my head, I dropped my hands in a wide sprawl on the display case, leaning towards him.>

I’ve got the time and my place is just upstairs. So what do you want, Atticus? <The question was meant to be overt and open ended. And if I loved learning his name… saying it packed a thousand times the punch.> And for the record, I’d love to handle you. <It was shameless and I was not at all sorry.>

Atticus:

-He lived upstairs...I laughed at the immediate thoughts that came to mind then shook my head slowly, speaking quickly before he could get any kind of insulted.-

Seems for the moment we are neighbours, Madyx. -The hand that had just held his, because of course I would now be differentiating my hands by whether or not they had touched him, lifted and I thumbed over my shoulder to my van parked out front. As his eyes moved to where I had indicated, I stared at the way his lips curved up at the corners and my fingers twitched at my sides wanting nothing more than to touch him again.

Since it was generally frowned upon to yank a guy I’d just met over the counter and kiss him without giving him any kind of forewarning or chance to stop me, I cleared my throat and attempted to redirect my wayward thoughts back to what we had been talking about. He’d asked me a question and the proper thing to do was answer it. What did I want?

I knew what I wanted… HIM. But that wasn’t what he’d been asking no matter HOW suggestive his voice had sounded to my ears.

In my early twenties I had looked into piercings, researched all the types and varieties a guy could get as a means of using the knowledge to impress this one chick I had liked when I overheard her talking about how hot guys who had them were. It even worked, up to a point. Turned out, simply knowing about piercings was much different than actually having them, and when she discovered I didn’t actually have any, her interest in me wavered and she quickly moved on. At that point, I didn’t see the need to get anything done since I had started out wanting to impress her, my intentions had been shallow, and lacked the intent to follow through. But now...now, my intentions were less fueled with wanting to impress someone I was attracted to and more about self-discovery.

Tonight, the idea of getting a piercing made me feel more alive than I had in years. It was the right reason to pull the trigger on this. The gut churning excitement was the same I felt when I had called the number on the FOR SALE sign that had been hanging on the window the day I decided to buy my van. I was immediately grateful to the chick of my early twenties for having inspired me to do all that research, even if her rejection had been a blow to my fragile, immature ego.

Was I being impulsive now? Absolutely. But I already knew I wouldn’t regret this which was why without any uncertainty colouring my voice, my gaze found Madyx’s and I grinned confidently as I told him exactly what I wanted.-

I’d like the first two rungs of Jacob’s Ladder.

-I knew what I was asking for, and I hoped like hell the nickname for frenum piercings hadn’t changed in the years since I had done all that research. If it had, I fully expected him to laugh in my face and tell me to get my wannabe ass the hell out. I held my breath, and counted the thuds of my pulse as they wooshed in my ears feeling less and less confident in my answer as the seconds passed by that it took him to speak.-

Madyx:

<There were several impulsive words trying to fly off my tongue, but I was biding my time. I glanced past him when he indicated he was my neighbor, noting the tell tale silhouette of his VW bus. Currently nomadic, likely sleeping on a less than comfy mattress in the name of experience. The mentality someone must possess to live on impulse was a turn on, and it worked in my favor. Without knowing it, he was feeding me information and arming my artillery with all kinds of weapons to extend the night…because without explanation, I just wanted more with him. More time. More touch. MORE.

Atticus was setting off signals like flares in a moonless night, the attraction was undeniably mutual. I knew it, but did he? He would, I wasn’t letting him out of my company without shooting my shot. . My sensory grid was lighting up in a bright spectrum of greens, this was something fae only experienced in the rarest of circumstances. I knew what it meant but couldn’t delve into all that mythology on the spot.

Fuck that. I was just going to go with it.

And then he said it. What he wanted.

I knew there was more by the way his eyes flicked over my lips and the unequivocal energy that told me he was using restraint.

My brows shot up in reaction. My grin stretched a little wider. My dick bucked in my jeans clearly in support of this development. I toed the line of professionalism in my day to day operations, but this was beyond that. I couldn’t stop thinking about getting his cock out of his pants. With a casual swipe of my tongue between my lips, I opened the case, pulling out the options so we could get down to business. I knew he wasn’t going to run. I’d bet on it.>

You have piercings I can’t see? Or do I get first honors?

<fingering a few of the barbells to draw his eyes down, even though I loved the heat of them on me> Are you thinking the same size for each? Or a descending size? Grooved balls? <I smirked, couldn’t help it> Smooth?

We’ll get to gauge when I see what we’re working with, Atticus.

Atticus:

-Just as my lungs were beginning to burn for fresh oxygen, he spoke, and I exhaled slowly, controlling myself from letting out a sigh of relief so as not to let on how unsure of myself I had been feeling. There was no laughter or smirking from him that told me I had used an outdated slang. Excellent. I was starting to feel less and less like a poser with each follow up question he asked. He was very clearly taking my request seriously though I was not blind to the less than subtle moments of flirtation he was allowing to slip out with each exchange between us. And I was about to let him see my dick. I almost laughed. I held it in. Barely.

It was my turn to speak. Right, he needed answers. I could give those. With a grin and a rub of my hands together I chuckled as I got the first question squared away.- No. I don’t have any other piercings. You’re my first, Mad.

-My eyes dropped down to the tray of hardware he removed from the display case, ears working overtime to hear each of his rapid fire queries that I was delayed in noticing I had already shortened his name from Madyx to Mad. Both suited him, but if he was about to get face up in my junk without it being sexual I figured it was all right for me to shorten his name without expressed permission, that was how nicknames were supposed to happen anyway.-

Size. I hadn’t really considered that when I went and got overzealous with my request for two piercings. -Laughing low, my eyes moved between the various sizes of barbells he was showing me before making up my mind with ease.-

I want them to be the same. As far as accessories go, I’m a bit of a minimalist and the idea of gradually increasing seems a bit pompous if not arrogant to me. I can only imagine the size needed at the base if I went and got the great idea to complete the ladder. FUCK. -A shudder of regret for future me shot down my spine then ricocheted straight into the tip of my dick. All previous arousal swifty vacated my body and in a hurry. Decision made.- Yeah. definitely the same size. And smooth.

I also know enough from my research ages ago to know I won’t be looking to stretch out the gauge, either. No matter how fast these particular piercings tend to heal, I don’t want my dick to become a branch of a Christmas tree, sagging under the weight of a too heavy ornament. God, can you even imagine?! -The mental images that began to fill my mind had me laughing again.- Otherwise, any other decisions needing made, I will heed to your expert opinion.

Madyx:

<I caught his exhale and something about it felt like he was relieved, as if he’d just confessed a long held desire for the first time, and maybe I wasn’t so off the mark as he answered that I was his first. I didn’t have time for a smart ass remark about popping his cherry because of what he said right after.

Mad. He called me Mad. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as if a hand had ghosted upwards, calling it to attention. The sensation carried up into my scalp, and even to the tips of my ears. How was it that something so damn simple was so affecting with him? It wasn’t the first time since he walked in my shop, and the longer he stayed, the more I was convinced there was more of it in store.

I took him in as he weighed his options out loud, none of his choices surprising me. I figured he’d want something understated, but I didn’t want to assume out loud and then have him reveal his elaborate plans for a rainbow ladder with alternating barbells down the back of his cock. That would have been a grave mistake!

I laughed my ass off when he referenced a Christmas tree sagging under the weight of a heavy ornament from sizing up the gauges, unable to stop myself.>

If the piercings look like too heavy ornaments and your dick a limp tree after piercings, then someone doesn’t know shit about shit when it comes to proper technique.

You’re in good hands, Atticus. I promise you that. <I flicked my eyes up to hopefully catch his, and thankfully I didn’t miss my target.> First, proper frenum piercings need to hit at the right depth to avoid that unfortunate look. Second, and counterintuitively, because of the skin, we’ll want to use a heavier gauge. With a lighter weight, during the healing process, it would push towards the surface, also resulting in the wrong appearance and a damn inconvenient dangling effect that could lead to unfortunate zipping incidents.

<Laughing, it was a feat to drop my eyes from his as I started selecting options to suit his taste>

You’ll want to consider width dependent on your head. Sight unseen, I think this brushed steel goes with your vibe.

You also have options when it comes to the size of the balls. <smirking, I laid a few out> You don’t have to decide standing here, we’ll bring them over to my station and you can see what looks right to you.

You ready? Need a beer? Something stronger? <My mouth on your cock to ease any nerves? I kept that last one on lockdown, lifting a brow, as I anxiously waited for his reply>

Atticus:

-My previously lost arousal was swiftly returning, and reaching tenting trouble territory when Madyx promised I’d be in good hands. Wouldn’t I just love to be in his hands. I stared at them while he sorted through the barbells, selecting some he thought would work. Long fingers, nimble and sure in their movements. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now was not the time to learn I had a kink for hands, I’d never felt that way before, maybe they were just his hands I was lusting after, particularly when paired with this whole conversation that felt heavy with an undercurrent of attraction. I couldn’t deny it was flowing in both directions. He was making it pretty obvious, where I would have normally brushed it off as him being friendly in the beginning, I’d have to be blind to not see it now. I was damn sure seeing it.

Things were about to get very awkward if I didn’t get control over my body. I was a magnet drawn to a piece of metal, desperate to move closer, to obtain that satisfying click when the connection was finally made.

What was my life right now?

How could, of all the places I decided to stop on a whim have this guy right here, and have this kind of mutual attraction happen so effortlessly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that way toward someone and have them return it. Years, for sure. Many years. My eye was not exactly particular, it checked out chicks and dudes equally, but it took a lot to make me want a second glance.

Then he had to go and talk about ball sizing while smirking at me. I was starting to suspect he was playing with me. Cat toying with a mouse. Taunting my dick with his innuendo, coaxing it to come out of hiding and play his game. Did I want to? DUH. There was no denying how much I wanted to do just that.

But how does one go from piercing consultation to...Hey, you give me a boner, wanna hook up? Yeah…..no. He was hot, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was hit on all the time. Likely every day. I was certain of it. I didn’t want to be just some lame customer who was looking for an after hours special with the good looking tattoo shop guy.

Could I be any more of a cliche. I prided myself on being nothing of the sort...well I kind of was with my current on trend living in a van and travelling lifestyle. The only points working in my favour there was that I hadn’t documented a single moment of it outside of the memories in my mind. I wasn’t the next Van Guy with the Instagram worthy morning shots overlooking the ocean while holding a cup of coffee and casually displaying my abs for more likes. A thirst trap, I was not. I had higher standards than that.

Questions were being sent my way. Was I ready? What a loaded thing to ask, I laughed and hoped it didn’t sound as choked off to him as it did to my ears.- Yes. I’m ready. I’m good on the beer, for now. I think.

-I laughed again, this time it felt a little looser passing over my lips and I looked down at the tray of jewelry once more then looked back up at him, eyes finding his. Before I could stop myself, words tumbled out without much control over the content or how they’d be received, now was not the time to have shame or embarrassment, I needed to know if the situation in my jeans could be salvaged.- I once read that when getting dick tattoos, you had to be hard the whole time. Is the same true for piercings?

Madyx:

<The energy smacking me around was nothing I’d ever come across. Fuck. It was inexplicably intense, like we were plugged into each other and exchanging a charge. I was still mind-blown by what he was putting out. His subconscious and deep-seated pleasures were stimulating mine, as if they were dependent on one another. When I caught moments of him looking at me, my body reacted and my heart was thumping, driven by the physical and not so physical. I shut-up the internal analysis as much as I could and focused on what was in front of me.

Atticus was definitely anticipating, his excitement laced with nervousness inciting my extra fae receptors into overdrive. He covered pretty well, but his flustered laugh made me want to drop my jeans on the spot. I was stoked he’d declined the drink, especially since he’d slipped with the “for now.” Bingo. That was enough to confirm he wasn’t looking to bolt after I got up and personal with his cock.

The jewelry out, I let my attention land squarely back on him while he entertained what I’d displayed. It gave me a chance to scope the strong, lithe line of his back, and the sharp cut of his scruffed jaw. Hell, with every fresh recognition of his attributes, his hotness was intensifying right along with my craving for a thorough taste. While I had this fuck-me revelation, he was quiet, probably thinking about the dual-punctures I was about to put through his cock. I knew something was coming but the smirk that happened when he asked his question could not be helped.>

I’d like to see someone keep it hard through an entire inking. It only needs to be up for the stencil portion of the tattoo, after that there are creative ways to stretch a dick for the shading. As for you… <pursing my lips then rubbing them together> I’ll get the job done either way, as long as I can pinch the skin, I can pierce it. Generally, there’s more to work with when it’s not at attention. Chew on that and follow me.

<My smirk widened just before I broke eye contact and grabbed the tray of jewelry. Cocking my head in the direction of my station and the chair that would have him slightly reclined when he planted ass in it. I set the tray down and waited for him to get situated while I snapped on my gloves. When I turned around,shit, my eyes went straight south where it was hard to miss what was happening behind his zipper and before I could blow it, my eyes shot back to his. I couldn’t seem to stop doing that. I also couldn’t repress the urge to set him at ease and give him something to grab onto during this prelude to a pierce.

Playing it cool, casual, intent on finessing my approach, I took a seat on my stool, which kept us at eye level with one another. I knew he wanted this in my bones, but I was feeling the nerves from the risk of it. I stepped over the edge and took the cliff dive, the words passing over my lips as I felt a rush from the free fall.> How about you don’t leave after we’re done with business. <It was a question, but the way it came out sounded more like a statement. Unintentional. Organic. Assured. I dropped my eyes to his cock before they raked back up his body...to his suckable throat...his full lips...and back home to his grey-blue eyes.>

Atticus:

-“Chew on that and follow me.” Shit. He knew. He had to. There was no way he couldn’t tell I was already sporting wood. When he turned his back to me and headed to his station, I tried to chill myself the fuck out. Naturally my eyes landed on his ass and the fire that was in my veins ignited to an inferno and I knew there would be no way to get the blood to vacate my cock. This was going to be embarrassing for at least one of us in a couple of moments.

Did it matter though? I was just passing through town, at least that had been the plan when I entered the shop. I came in here looking for a conversation with another person and now I was about to leave with some metal accessories. I shook my head as I took a seat on the chair he wanted me in and took a few deeper breaths trying to slow the thundering of my heart.

I wasn’t shy about my body, never had been, but damn if I wasn’t worried about how he’d react when he took notice that I was more than eager to have his hands on me. Could I explain it away with a joke about being a masochist? Maybe, but it wasn’t true, not by the definition of the word.

As I spent precious time fretting in my mind he had turned around from setting down the tray and...YEP. I watched as Mad got himself an eyeful and like the professional I already figured he was, his gaze moved right past my crotch and straight up to my face.

He didn’t laugh. Or smile or even make a comment. The flirting that had been so natural halted. I didn’t know what to do with that. I was suddenly feeling overheated in my hoodie while worry about insulting him began to cycle through my mind, of course that was when things started to chill out for me in trouser tent town. I reconsidered the whole masochist angle again just to try and break the silence but shook my head to myself. It wouldn’t matter in a day or two or a week. I’d carry on with my drive and he’d have a story to tell his coworkers tomorrow. I was fine being a laughable story.

Before I could find something casual to say, he sucker punched me with that line of staying after he was done and I briefly wondered if he was trying to throw me a bone because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t think so. The tension between us had been palpable from the start. I nodded at his non-question.- Yeah. I’d like that. Though we both know you already know that I would.

-I laughed low as his eyes did another sweep and the previously cooling jets fired right back up again. Jesus. When did I become a thirteen year old boy seeing his first dirty magazine. I reached up behind my neck as I sat forward in the chair and pulled my hoodie off over my head, draping it on the arm of my chair, leaving me in my well worn white tee that was underneath.

There was no point in trying to hide shit, the elephant in the room had been noticed, spoken about and well acknowledged, not to mention Mad was about to shake hands with the trunk. I blew out a breath, feeling all embarrassment sliding away as easily as I had taken off my hoodie, and grinned at him.- Let’s get to you shoving some needles through my family jewels so we can have that beer you mentioned.

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rovewritesit · 3 years

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yeah but imagine sd!d vaguely mentioning the reader and their relationship in an interview....

is this blurb two months late? yes. did jess finally bombard me with enough inspiration for me to finish it? hell yes. will I ever get over sd!d? hell no.

"This is Mike Read with BBC 1, and we have a wonderful treat for all you lords and ladies this morning. Sir John Deacon and Dame Roger Taylor of Queen are here in the studio with some details on their new album. Welcome back, boys."

"Thank you, Mike. It's good to be back," Roger responds from across the booth, his trainers propped up on the desk underneath his mic. "You all can't see, but my curtesy was immaculate."

John leans in close to his mic, knowing his softer voice won't carry as well over Mike's responding chuckle. "Pleasure as always."

"Okay, let's get right to it then," Mike starts. "A Kind of Magic. Tell me about it."

John stays silent, glancing at Roger to jump right in as he always does. But the blonde simply folds his hands in his lap and returns the stare.

Sod it all. John was not in the mood for his antics this early in the morning. "Erm, yes, well, it's our twelfth studio album. It was made in part for the soundtrack to the film Highlander, which was released earlier this year."

"Yes, indeed," Mike begins. "That was... quite the film."

Roger snorts lightly. "That's one way to put it."

John's glower in his direction goes unnoticed. "There are quite a few new songs on this that weren't featured in the film that we're very excited about," he continues, attempting to keep his annoyance out of his voice. "It hits stands next week."

"Any upcoming hits that either of you wrote that we should keep an ear out for?"

"Well, the first single is actually-"

"Actually," Roger cuts in. "I would highly encourage you all to purchase the LP. Some very impressive artwork is included."

John quirks his brow. This was supposed to be a quick 15-minute radio spot. Why on earth was Roger bringing up album art of all topics to touch upon?

"Indeed," Mike concurs politely. "I've always been a big fan of the artists you've chosen for your covers, and this one is no exception. Who was the artist behind the design this time?"

"Roger Chiasson," John informs him. "Brilliant cartoonist. He's mostly worked in children's animation, believe it or not."

John doesn't notice the sly grin that slides across Roger's face. "There are also some magnificent inserts to go along with it as well. Done by a lesser-known artist that John brought to us as a matter of fact. We had no idea he was such a connoisseur of illustrative talent. What was her name again?"

John's jaw immediately tenses as he catches on to Roger's game. He's positive his face is beet red by the time he catches his friend's eye. "Y/N L/N," he says shortly, scooching a bit further back from the table.

"We're getting a little away from the music now, aren't we?" Mike laughs.

"Oh bloody hell, I'm embarrassed. I forget how you know her," Roger prods once more.

John grits his teeth, baring them slightly in intimidation. "She's a friend."

"A good friend," Roger emphasizes.

Mike is slowly picking up the tension between the pair, staring in bewilderment as the two verbally spar back and forth.

"Yes, a good friend," John seethes.

"A really good friend."

"Quite," John snips.

Mike clears his throat lightly to grab their attention. "I think we'll go ahead and preview a single. We'll check in with you two after. Here's Friends Will Be Friends off of Queen's upcoming album, A Kind Of Magic."

"You and I are going to have words after this," John mutters almost inaudibly to his side as the track opens over the speakers.

Roger stage whispers back, his hand covering his mic. "My lord. Not the words!"

- - - - - - -

The door to the condo slams shut, altering you to John's arrival home. You hear a heavy sigh before you see him.

"Went well then?" you call out from your perch on the living room couch, currently surrounded by a massive pile of tangled yarn and knitting needles. John had teased you about never having any hobbies outside of painting, while he seemed to collect more and more wherever he went. It was hopeless, but you hadn't given up just yet - didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"What a wretched start to the day. Roger was on one," he steams, finally coming into view. You can't help but swallow slightly at his flustered appearance. Shirt unbuttoned down to the center of his chest, flushed red with annoyance, cigarette in hand.

You hurriedly shove the yarn to the floor, surely just tangling it further, and pat the cushion beside you. John crosses the room in two quick steps and sinks onto the plush leather, sighing loudly once more.

"Went well then?" he mimics your earlier response, eyeing the chaotic pile of wool beneath his feet.

"It has yet to break me," you respond softly, weaving your hand through his curls and scratching his head the way you know he likes. "What broke you, though? Want to tell me about it?"

"No," he states simply. "But I guess I have to."

You smile, turning to gaze at his profile. "Have to? That's new."

His head hits the back of the couch with an absorbed squish. "As I said, Roger was on one," he explains slowly, glancing towards you finally. "And he may have mentioned your name."

Sitting up a bit straighter, you face him fully. "Just me? Not us?"

Both of you had expressed not wanting to go public with your relationship, especially the nature of how it started, but that was months ago. In all honesty, you hadn't thought about it much since. But just hearing that the secret might be out sent a surprising thrill through your body.

"Not explicitly, but it sure was implied," he confesses. His eyes search your face, gauging your response.

"What was said exactly?"

"I said you were a friend."

"A friend?"

"A very good friend," he reiterates, and this time, there's a bit more behind his voice. And you know. It's a mirroring excitement. The joyful possibility of anonymity no longer being a reason for holding back. Anything.

You grin, sliding yourself seamlessly into his lap. "Why don't you show me how good of a friend you can be then?"

John grins right back. "It would be my pleasure."

#sd!d night #rove writes

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ravnicaforgoblins · 3 years

Photo

Ravnica for Goblins

One-Shots and Story Hooks

One thing Ravnica campaigns are rarely without is conflict. On a good day, somewhere between nine and ten of the Guilds will be having an issue with one another in some way, shape, or form. This is good for adventuring parties because it means there’s always something to do. While coming up with a session can literally be as simple as picking two Guilds and building off their general reasons for not liking each other (which is as easy as picking a fight on the internet), sometimes you need help. You need something to kickstart those creative ideas again.

Fortunately, the artists over at Wizards of the Coast have had over a dozen sets/releases to craft not just the main storyline of Ravnica, but unique little one-offs as well. They come with absolutely stellar artwork to help build the atmosphere of the City of Guilds, and wonderful bits of flavor text that are prime jumping-off points for your story ideas.

So here are four story hooks taken straight from Ravnica cards to incorporate into your campaign. You don’t have to follow these prompts exactly, but if they spark some ideas of your own, run with them.

Watchwolf

Ravnica can be lonely & intimidating for a Druid. With so much of the world made up of pavement and skyline, one’s connection with nature can feel like a long-distance relationship. You’d be hard-pressed to find a tree outside the Conclave without venturing into Rubblebelt territory. Furthermore, what animals do inhabit the big city have been almost unilaterally conscripted into service by one Guild or another. Azorius hawks, Boros hounds, Gruul boars, Selesnya cattle; to say nothing of the terrifying creations churned out from Guilds like the Simic, Orzhov, or Rakdos.

Even the rats seem to have loyalties.

I was browsing a Tin Street stall for watermelon seeds when I saw it. A wolf, staring right at me from a bridge nearby. I looked around but didn’t see anyone it seemed to belong to. Boros dogs wear armor, Ledev dire wolves are never without their rider, and if it was Gruul it would almost certainly have some sort of clan markings. Could it be a wild one?

Noticing my gaze, the wolf made its way over to me. It avoided the crowd with a comfort you don’t see in wild animals. This wolf definitely belonged to someone in the city.

A few of the merchants were staring at us. Even if it was trained, it was definitely making them nervous. The wolf nipped & tugged at my tunic with its mouth. Not with aggression, but with urgency. Spend enough time with animals, you learn to spot the difference. I bought my seeds, tipped the shopkeep generously, and brought the wolf to a quieter part of the city to speak with it.

Who are you?

Watcher

A watcher? Curious.

What do you need, Watcher?

Help

What help do you need?

Lost

You’re lost?

Watcher shook his muzzle.

Where’s your owner, Watcher?

Taken

Taken? Taken by whom?

Watcher told me.

A what?

Role Reversal

This was definitely one for the books. Even for the Senate, seeing a Sphinx up close is extremely rare. Seeing one at your desk filing a complaint about another Sphinx is unheard of.

“They are Uthlon the Wise. A model among their peers for stoicism, moderation, and sound judgement.”

“And you’re filing a complaint against Uthlon for....”

I checked my notebook.

“....Getting drunk and painting rude words on the temple of Azor.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll look into it.”

I expected a response. There’s always a response when people get angry enough to file a complaint. However, instead of shouting or threats, the Sphinx Agammemnos stepped back from my desk and perched down a few feet away. They were really going to wait there until I looked into this. My lunch was sitting an arm’s reach away. I sighed deeply. I hated this job sometimes.

Then, another Sphinx came in and approached my desk.

“I am here to file a complaint regarding Uthlon the Wise.”

I took my notebook back out.

“For the crime of shouting out ‘River’.”

I had to ask for that one again. Apparently, they were asking someone a riddle, as Sphinxes do, when Uthlon the Wise popped up and shouted the riddle’s answer. For that, I might seek out this Uthlon the Wise for the sole purpose of giving them a medal. No sooner had this thought crossed my mind when another Sphinx, this one rubbing their head and moving as though drunk, wandered in.

“I....am here to....file a complaint.”

“Regarding Uthlon the Wise?”

The Sphinx looked pleased. They do love when someone can guess what they’re thinking.

“Uthlon the Wise hit me over the head with a club.”

I’d just finished writing that down when more Sphinxes came strolling in. I’d never seen this many in one place, not even in Isperia’s court. Then I saw the strangest thing of all. A goblin came in, calmly walked up to my desk, and told me in the best Common I’ve ever heard from a goblin:

"My name is Uthlon the Wise.”

For the love of the Guildpact, what is going on here?

Mass Manipulation

There they are. I thought I made my instructions clear to dress the part. One way you can always spot a Dimir is by their shabby taste. They’re so concerned with being able to keep things hidden in their clothes that they can never wear anything that fits them properly. Orzhov assassins, by contrast, always dress to kill. We turn the art of killing into an actual art. And here this tit comes showing up at the finest diner in the Precinct wearing that awful trenchcoat. Ghosts, I should have hired that Ochran. At least they know not to be seen.

The only reason I’m resorting to this alley skulker is because I need the job done quickly and on the cheap. If this imbecile ruins my appetite, I’m docking the price of the meal from their pay. Then again, if I do that, I wouldn’t be paying them at all.

Seems fair to me.

“Dreadfully sorry I’m late.”

“If this is how you run your business, I may just take mine elsewhere.”

“Now, now, let’s not get hasty.”

The server came over to take our orders, but because of this idiot’s tardiness, my main course would have to wait while they ordered drinks.

“Would you like to see our wine list?”

“Water is fine, thank you.”

Ghosts, I should have hired the Rakdos. This whole day is already a loss and it’s only breakfast. Why did I ever think these fools could be trusted with something important?

The server poured water from the pitcher while I waited.

“So, what’s the job?”

“What’s the job? The job is everything! How you present yourself! How you treat your clients! How you behave in high society! How am I supposed to trust you with a contract when you can’t even show up on time for a breakfast?”

They just sat there, drinking their water. Not even the decency to look ashamed. I’m going to put a word in to the Judge for another purge, this is unacceptable. We shouldn’t have to put up with these dredges.

Finishing their water, they clinked their glass on the table.

The whole diner was suddenly quiet. Not the awkward, shocked quiet of society types pausing to listen. I’ve lived in this city for almost 70 years and I’ve never heard anything like this kind of silence. Every single person froze in their place, some halfway in the motion of eating or talking. Then, every single head turned in our direction at once.

“I was afraid it might come to this. I know you have things to do, so I’ll be brief. When I ask you for the job, I don’t need your background or history and especially not your personal take. I know how uptight you Syndicate types are about contracts & paperwork & details and all that nonsense. I just need the deed and the name of the person it’s being done to. That’s all.”

Every face stares at me with blank captivation. Not a single eye blinks. Not a single mouth draws breath. Including mine.

“But first, let’s talk about the pay. For starters, since the target is probably wealthy enough to afford protection, the rate will double. Second, since you clearly have trouble keeping your mouth shut, you’ll need to be kept under supervision until the job is done, so the rate will double again. Lastly, since the reason I was late was because I was debating whether or not to poison your drink, let’s double it again and call it a deal.”

I swallow hard. I should have never gotten involved with House Dimir.

“Seems fair to me.”

“Excellent. Now, what’s the job?”

Debtors’ Transport

This one will not be easy. This isn’t your standard smash & grab in the Bulwark where the Wojek are too busy busting Gruul skulls to chase after a gang of thieves. Everyone in the city has thought of it at least once; rob the Orzhov. The problem is, everyone knows what happens to anyone who tries; best case execution, worst case servitude. The air surrounding the Orzhov Guildhall is saturated with the ghosts of poor souls still paying off their debts to the Syndicate centuries after death. It’s not a fate you wish unto anyone, least of all yourself.

But still....the temptation is right there. An Orzhov transport, one of those big bloated ones that look like someone took a person, removed their bones, and then blew them up like a balloon. Walking right through the plaza. Every week, same time, same route, same cargo. An enormous sarcophagus filled with more coin than your average Ravnican citizen will see in a lifetime, and the moans of the latest poor soul who fell too far behind on their payments.

From the street separating the haves & have-nots of Precinct Two, around the Hall of the Guildpact in Precinct One, then a straight shot along Plaza Avenue to the Orzhova Church. Roughly one hour to walk five miles of city and deliver the cargo into the greedy hands of the Ghost Council.

They aren’t subtle about their business, but they aren’t subtle about security, either. At least four Advokists and Knights for a light haul, double that for a bigger one, and if they’re really hauling a score you can expect a trio of their fully-plated Giants as well. Not to mention the gargoyles they have perched on roofs for every single street along the route. And the transports themselves aren’t exactly known for being well-tempered when something agitates them.

But you rip off a score like that and your entire crew can afford to buy a mansion on a floating mountain.

Assuming you get away, of course. That’s always the rub. There are few things the Syndicate take more personally than being robbed. You rob a score like that, they don’t just send the Order of Sorrows after you, they send the Angels. The executors of Orzhov justice who don’t sleep, don’t stop for lunch, don’t stop for anything until they find you. At least when the Firemane kill someone it’s an exciting way to go. Better death by immolation than spending every night listening for the sound of feathered wings dropping a scythe down on you.

But if you did it right, made sure no one saw you, made sure no one could trace it back to you, it could be done. It can be done.

But who would be willing to take the risk?

#Ravnica for Goblins #Ravnica #goblins #mtg #d&d 5e #DnD #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #roleplay #story hooks #D&D #one shot #campaign

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mldrgrl · 3 years

Note

1/2: TY for spoiling us with extra chapters! Sometimes fandom can feel mean-spirited when an author sort of holds a story hostage or teases endlessly, until they receive a certain amount of attention. Which I try to understand since it’s all free! And I know it’s hard work. And I know so many talented writers don’t always get feedback they deserve. But, still, it feels icky sometimes. With you, I’m a huge fan but also recent fan working my way through every single one of ur stories

2/2: & I don’t know if you’ve done this before, but you spoiling us like this has added an additional layer of enjoyment. Since FF authors aren’t supposed to financially profit, we can only show you our delight in you & your work, but your response to us feels like you're also delighting in us as your readers/fans & it's sweet to observe this immediate back and forth. Doesn’t feel icky. Makes me more grateful as I’m reading. Although. If I could hack your computer, I absolutely would! haha!

:D first of all, the thought of anyone trying to hack my computer for fanfic made me laugh. Secondly, I personally can’t say I’ve experienced anyone withholding updates, but I’m a terrible person when it comes to WiPs and been around too long and seen too many that don’t get finished to start them. Plus, again for me personally, there’s so much content out there that I have a tendency to forget what I’ve read (and even forget what I’ve even written in some cases) so I have to have something completely fresh to enjoy it fully.

That being said, it’s also my personal policy that I will never actually post a WiP. Primarily because I do a lot of editing while I write and will often go back and revise prior chapters or shift things around and so until I write The End on it, it’s not ready for consumption. However, I do STILL make edits and revisions while I post a longer work. It’s just that I’m impatient at that point to be able to share it and give it over to everyone so they can shove it into their eyeballs. And I know that I love to have something to look forward to on a regular basis. It’s almost like watching a mini-series and getting episodes dropped daily instead of weekly, or monthly.

I had a tremendous amount of fun writing this piece and it’s very fun to interact or answer questions about content (I just don’t want to drop any spoilers). I love that people really like this one because I think I can safely say that this might be my favorite thing I’ve worked on.

I understand about talented writers not getting kudos. The icky part for me, is if someone is writing exclusively for praise. I wrote XF fanfic when I was in high school while the show was first airing and (it’s terrible, for sure) and that was back in the day when it was passed around on ftp shares and you’d get this great monthly fic newsletter and then it would just disappear into the ether and there was little to no interaction with anybody. But, it felt collaborative all the while because I had a whole newsletter of like 20 other fics to read and enjoy and it was like we were all part of the same club that loved putting our own spin on the character’s journeys. I still feel that way today because I am an introvert by nature and fanfic is really the only way I can join in with the party. Otherwise I’m just in the corner watching all the gifs and discourse go by. And, you know what, that’s totally fine too! When I’m in my creative slumps, I am more than happy to see the cool edits and artwork and all that jazz.

This story has gotten a lot of traction, and I have the niche fanbase for the Hanella series, but trust me, you can go back to the first things I was sharing here and the notes are next to nothing. It never really meant much to me in the first place though - I entered tumblr literally writing stories for 3 years prior to that and only sharing them with 2 friends that wanted to read them because they were fans - and they’re not even on tumblr.

All of this is just to say, as long as I have the inspiration, I would still be writing for even just one person. And unless they’re @sunflowerseedsandscience who I needed to review some things before I continued, they’re not getting the whole story unless they hack into my computer ;)

#Anonymous

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musictrash0426 · 3 years

Text

Killing Stalking

My name is Elizabeth Stevens, I’m 17 and it is one month until my senior year of highschool. Most of my friends are going crazy trying to plan out their futures. However, unlike my peers, I've known what I've wanted to be since I was 13. I want to be an artist, my parents fully support my decision which is nice. They have bought me plenty of professional quality supplies since my 14th birthday when they saw all the hard work I put into my art. I've even started selling prints of my work on Redbubble. I also have quite the following

Overall I live in a pretty good neighbourhood. It has great people, including my best friend Kai who lives a few streets over. My family and I live in a pretty large house. It has three floors which is a little big if you ask me. There are only the three of us living here, me, mom and dad. But with that being said my parents gave me the entire basement on my 13th birthday. They also helped me set up every room down here the way I want. Not much has changed, even after being down here for four years..

When you come down the stairs you are greeted with my lounge area. Where we have a couch, tv, game system, large bookshelf and some other things. Next we have my room where I have a fairly minimal look. I have a large bed, large dresser, a walk in closet, and my vanity where I do my makeup. The next room is probably my favourite; it's my art studio. Like I said my parents have supported me over the years so I have a lot of supplies. Honestly I couldn't be more grateful for them and everything they’ve given me. I have a full easel, desk, and a lot of supplies, markers, colour pencils, paint (water, acrylic, oils), alongside my new drawing tablet.

This morning when I got up, I went to my art room and started sketching. I've gotten into this habit as it helps me get into a creative mindset, along with getting into drawing for the day. Once I stop doodling I start to make a list of the things of supplies I had recently run out of.

As I was about to leave, I asked my parents if they needed anything. My mom told me to get her a drink from Starbucks on my way home as she knows I’m planning on going there anyways.

I get into my car and drive to the art store. Luckily this store is only 10 minutes from my house. I walk into the store and look for the supplies on my list. While going through the store, grabbing the things I needed, I decided I also wanted to try out a new paint while I was here. I got some winsor and newton acrylics in red, blue,yellow, sienna, black and white along with some mixing pallets. I also got a canvas as I want to make a large painting later.

My mom texted me asking if I could pick up milk and eggs. So I ran into the supermarket and picked up the few things she wanted. I then went to starbucks, got both my parents, and myself a few drinks, and went home.

I got out of my car balancing shopping bags on my arm,the drinks in my hand and I went inside. I put the milk and eggs in the fridge, gave my parents their drinks and made my way down to my art room to put my supplies away. I started brainstorming ideas of what I want to paint and I finally came up with a concept I liked. I open my sketchbook and I start to draw the rough copy of the picture before blowing it up on the canvas and painting it. While I am drawing out the picture I'm watching lavendertowne’s creepypastas series as it's one of my favourites on youtube.

In my concentration, I lose track of time, and before I know it it’s 4:30 pm. My mom walks to my art room saying her and dad are going on a trip for the next week. So I get the house to myself, which is cool. I've been home alone before. “Elle, you can have Kai over to stay for the week if you want.” mom said. “Also I transferred some money into your account so you and Kai can just order some food if you guys get hungry.”

“Thanks mom,” I say “ I love you.”

“Love you too sweetie.”

I walk upstairs with mom as her and dad are about to leave. I hug them goodbye and tell them to have a safe trip.

I decide to take mom up with her offer and invite Kai over for the week. Lately I haven't been wanting to be home alone. So I called him and he said he’d be over in 10 minutes.

I grab a glass of water and wait, before I knew it there was a knock on my door and it was Kai. I give him a hug and he smiles.

“It’s like we haven't seen each other in a while.” Kai teases me. We saw each other yesterday and I called him late last night because I just wanted to talk to someone.

Kai has literally been my best friend since we were both in diapers. Our moms grew up together so it was bound to happen that we would too. He’s my biggest support system, he’s one of the only people who know how I got into art. I watched a lot of anime growing up, I still do, and the art style is what got me into wanting to be an artist.

“Have you started a new piece yet?” Kai asked

“Yeah I have! And I just finished the rough copy” I say.

“Can I watch you work on it?”

“Of course you can silly,” I say with a grin. I show Kai the canvas to let him gauge what I’ve been working on.

“It looks really good!” But his face saddens a little bit. “Are you doing alright?” I give him a confused look. “You tend to draw horror pieces when you're trying to get yourself into a better place.”

Horror pieces are my favourite to draw. I don't have an explanation for it, but I've always liked them. Maybe it's because I loved horror shows growing up but who knows. I look back at all my works and Kai’s right. I tend to do these pictures more when I'm not the best headspace.

“You really know me, at this point it's mostly subconscious” I laugh “I was also watching creepypasta videos so the idea could have come from that. Anyways, what do you think about it so far?”

“I love it of course!” Kai says

I work on transferring it onto the canvas and after about 2 hours the pencil sketch is laid out. Once that's done we decide to go to the movies. We went and saw whatever Kai wanted to see. He picked some rom com which I wasn't mad at as I enjoy these types of movies.

After the movie we went to a sushi place for dinner. I wasn't that hungry so I got the rest of mine to go. Then we went to the supermarket to get some candy and pop for tonight. We decided that we were going to stay up quite a bit of the night so I can work on my artwork and we can just talk about life and stuff. We pull into the parking lot and head inside. This store is open 24/7 so we have plenty of time to get our stuff, but still it is 11:30pm and something makes the air feel very eerie tonight.

After walking around the store Kai and I look at eachother and we both feel like something is off because this uneasy feeling Kai and I hurry up and grab what we wanted. Kai and I decided to pick up Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears and some chips. We then went into the drink aisle where I picked out Dr. Pepper, and ginger ale. Kai picked out diet Pepsi and cream soda. We picked out the four flavours that we both love. We then decided to get a tub of cotton candy ice cream. As we were turning there was this lady who crashed her cart into ours as we were on our way to check out. I looked up and noticed that it was the same lady that had been in each aisle with us, which honestly didn’t make any sense as we just went to the isles we needed.

We check out of the store and head back to the car. After putting everything in the trunk of the car, I look up and see the same woman still there. What the fuck?

“Hey Kai, can you take the cart back please?” He nods and I get into the car and lock it.

I hear a knock that startles me and I look up. It was just Kai. I unlocked the door and he got in. “Wanna tell me why you had the door locked Elle?”

I look over and the woman gets into the car next to us oh great my horror brain made something out of nothing. She was also probably having a movie night with some of her friends.

“It’s nothing Kai, I think I’m just psyching myself out.”

“Okay.” With that we drove back to my place right in the nic of time too as it just started to rain. We shut off all the lights and lock the doors and windows upstairs. We head back down to my studio and I set up everything to begin painting.

I wanted something in the background while I was working so I put on Another. Kai and I have already watched it a few times but we didn’t want to start something new since I wouldn't be able to give it my full attention. Also it's a horror anime so it will put me in the mood for my painting.

I looked down at the outline I drew; it was a girl who had gone psychotic and had a knife in her hand. My plan is to add blood to her once the painting is completely dry, but first I start by painting the eyes. When they are finished they look very dead and already mentally gone inside. I take a break and lay my head on Kai’s shoulder.

“Tired?” he asks me.

“No, I just wanted a break.” We continue watching the anime after two more episodes. There was a bang of thunder and a flash of lightning, I looked out the small window and saw what looked to be a figure of a woman. I looked back to get a better look but she's gone. I must just be seeing things.

I brush it off then get back to my painting. About an hour later I finish painting the skin and I see another flash out of the corner of my eye. I think to myself how odd that is because there was no thunder. I brushed it off as the volume of the show probably just covered the sound. I decided to be done with painting for the night, so we moved out into the lounge area and continued watching Another. There was another flash and in the window we saw her. The woman from the supermarket was in my window.We were going to call the cops then with another flash she's gone.

We decided we couldn't take anymore horror tonight so we put on Ouran Highschool Host Club a few hours later we were on the episode where a character named Tamaki was trying to figure out his friend Haruhi’s biggest fear. When we see a flash of lightning in the episode, it also flashes here, and we see her silhouette again and she vanishes with the lightning once more.

Creeped out we went to my room and lay in bed, I cuddled into Kai because honestly I was shaking and needed comfort.

In the morning Kai and I woke up to banging on the door. I checked the time and it was 8:30 am. We got up and checked no one was there, but there was an envelope that said Elizabeth Steevens and Kai Kalua I brought it inside.

“Ummmm Kai?”

“Yeah?”

I turn the envelope to show him. We were both scared and didn't know what to do. We opened it and there were at least 40 photos of us, starting from when we were coming out of the movie. There were photos of us at the sushi restaurant, the grocery store, and the worst ones of all the ones that were taken looking into my house. Ones of us in my art room, in the lounge, and ones of us asleep in my bed.

Panicked, I call the police and they tell us to come down to the station. Since neither of us knew the woman's name they said there was nothing they could really do for us except to have us tell them if something else happens. Some help they were, I thought.

Kai and I went back to my studio and I continued working on the piece. This time our show of choice was Miria Nikki. As I was painting the hair I saw another flash and considering what happened last night we decided to go to my parents office and check the security cameras and lo and behold she's there on the property.

“Kai whats that in her hand?”

“I don’t know,”

I looked closer and saw that it was a knife. We once again called the police and this time they came, but hearing a car must have scared her. They came inside and asked to watch the cameras with us. Only this time she was at the back door that's connected to the kitchen and of course I happened to leave it unlocked…

“Oh Elizabeth, Kai, come out come out wherever you are..” The woman sang out menacingly. Her voice rang through the house loudly causing me to look to one of the officers for advice

He nods for Kai and I walk out.

“There you two are,”

“Do we know you?” I ask, genuinely confused as to who this woman is.

“Yeah I don't know who you are either.” Kai said just as confused.

“I'm Chloe. I am in your art class.” She says.

We were both confused; we don’t remember having ever seen her before. Our art class had six people in it, us two, three other of our friends and some weird girl who doesn't talk to anybody.

“... you’re the weird girl in our class aren’t you?” Kai questions.

“What did you call me?” She asked with a defensive tone.

“What did you expect him to say, you literally refuse to talk to us. Then whenever the teacher praises my work, you get angry. Besides who goes around taking pictures of people in their own house! That is fucking creepy.” I say

“I get angry because you always get the spotlight! Give someone else a turn.”

“Elle gets the attention because she actually shows her artwork, you just sit in the back of the class and do nothing. If you want attention why ignore us when we try talking to you? What is your problem? And why do you have a knife?” You can tell Kai is starting to lose patience with the situation, as his questions get increasingly aggressive.

“So I can get rid of my competition,” she smiles sweetly.

“What competition? There is no competition Chloe” I ask

“What competition? I have liked Kai forever!” Chloe says frustrated, slightly getting closer to the two of them with the knife.

Kai puts one hand out towards her, while using the other to pull me back with him a couple steps, creating distance between her and I before he speaks again.“I will never like you. Besides there is only one person I like, and hate to break it to sweetheart but it's not you.” This makes me curious who Kai was referring to.

“Then who is it then?” she asks angrily

That's when Kai kissed me. I kissed him back, albeit slightly flustered. This caused Chloe to become enraged, she came towards us with the knife and that's when the cops came out and told her to put the knife down. She complied and dropped the knife as she didn’t realize that the police were here.

One of the two cops took her away as the other came and told us they were going to hold her and do a mental assessment on her. He also checked to see if Kai and I were okay. After we tell him we are he also leaves, leaving Kai and I alone to deal with this new revelation.

“Do you actually like me? Or were you just saying that to get her to stop…” anxious about the answer since I have liked Kai for a while, but didn't want to make things awkward with him.

“Elle I have liked you for a while but I didn't want to lose you.” Kai says as he pulls me closer to him.

I don't know how to respond, all my mind was telling me was ‘kiss him’. I pull him in by his shoulders to another kiss, quickly dispelling doubts either of us had. Kai placed his hands on my waist and melted into it. He pulls away and leans his forehead against mine, just holding me. For the first time in a few days I felt safe.

“Kai?” I ask in a quiet tone almost a whisper.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Can you stay while my parents are gone?” I don’t feel safe enough to be home alone, and you wanted to stay in the comfort that he gave you.

“Of course I can angel.”

#anime #alone #creepy #artist #high school #home alone #horror #oneshot #senior #stalker

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