“I’ll make it quick—” you breathed out as you broke the kiss, supporting your weight on Sehun’s shoulders, “Unconventional sex, no feelings, no obligations. Are you in or not?” you shoot the question quickly, gazing into his lecherously dark eyes.
“Babe, you could put all sorts of conditions. Right now I need you to take off your clothes and that quickly,” he spoke in between his panting, running his hands up your back, over to your neck to pull you down for another kiss.
a/n: there’s a lot more whiskey in this than i initially intended, because i suddenly remembered that i’m actually in love with him. so… enjoy?
“You call that a slap shot, Nursey? That puck was going so slow a nine-year-old
could have stopped it barehanded.”
“Tch. You’re just saying that because your last three shots
went two feet wide and you’re intimidated by my mad skills.”
“What mad skills? You shoot like you’re playing mini golf.”
“At least I’ve got aim. You probably couldn’t hit the goal
if it was the size of, like, a Zamboni.”
“I can hit a lot of things.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”
“…Are they really still going?” Tango asked Whiskey as they
watched Dex and Nursey squabbling on the ice. It was eight in the morning, and
practice had ended half an hour ago, but the two D-men were still on the ice
trying to finish their game of Call Your Shot. At this point, it was getting a
“They’re definitely… resilient,” Whiskey allowed. “Their
endurance is impressive.”
“I know. Also—I can’t believe they still have insults left
to throw at each other? Like, wouldn’t they have run out by now?”
“Insults?” Whiskey asked, turning to Tango and raising an
eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call those insults, Tony.”
Summary//Request: As you plan a surprise birthday party for Yoongi with the help of Jimin, he gets suspicious and insecure about your relationship as you spend all your time with Jimin. Fluffy ending ^_^
A/N:So, I decided to try out a new thing were I actually include texts as pictures to and from the reader and the person in the story! (instead of writing them in bold as I have done previously). Let me know what you guys think of it, and I’ll make sure to do more!
You threw your phone in your lap out of pure frustration
after reading what Yoongi had sent you as you gently massaged your temples,
feeling a migraine making itself at home in your frontal lobes.
“Woah, what happened?” Jimin jumped in surprise, almost
letting all of the air out of the balloon he had been blowing up and trying to
tie for the past 10 minutes.
“It’s Yoongi – he thinks there’s something going on between
you and I because I’ve been ignoring him all day trying to organise his
birthday surprise” you let out a harsh, disgruntled sigh as Jimin gave you a
look of complete disbelief before nervously chuckling in response.
I’m just gonna freak out about having FCs in the Sonic Fandom at the moment!
So I’m sure everyone’s seen the trailer about customizing the third character to be whatever you want in Sonic Forces. Some people called that right from the beginning, good for you guys!
You know what the best part about this is, though?
This means Sonic Team knows this is how some fans engage in their work.
“Why is that so important?” you may ask. It shows that they are paying attention to portions of the fandom previously either overlooked or completely disregarded.
It’s a lot easier now to make character customization in a game, but for Sonic characters I imagine it’s much harder than your average RPG. It’s not just redoing the hair or clothes, you need entirely separate models for each species available.
And they actually put in the time and effort to do that.
There are tons and tons and TONS of WONDERFUL FCs in our community. Just take a look at our Fan Character Fridays tag, or @sonicfancharactersandredesigns! People pour their heart and soul into designing characters, writing their backstories and personalities, creating something new! And now we can watch our characters come to life on screen!
And honestly? People will refrain from making characters for fear they’ll be “Mary Sues” or other somesuch nonsense. But the term has been thrown around so much and at basically every FC or OC ever made that it literally means nothing anymore. Basically what it means at this point is “You made an OC and I don’t like it.”
People may argue that what makes a “bad character” is it using tropes, but this argument serves me better than it does OC-naysayers. There’s not a character or work in the WORLD that doesn’t rely on tropes to tell you something about itself. A tropeless story would be a blank page.
So use the customizable character in Sonic Forces to make your long-standing FC, or a totally new one! Give them a backstory, or like Sonic, leave it blank. Do whatever makes you happy when playing the game.
And, if I may raise a challenge to the community; use the game to destigmatize OCs.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel,
Warnings: Fluff, Some slight violence, A touch of angst. Clueless Dean, Confused Dean, Clueless Sam, Smart Castiel, Unsure reader, Attempts at humor, Romance.
Notes: So I wrote this for @chaos-and-the-calm67 , who wasn’t feeling good and wanted some fluffy Dean to cheer her up! I hope I did this justice!! This kind of fits in with my #LoveYourFlaws challenge, although there is no song. I just went that way with the fic, and I hope that it worked!
Summary: You’re friends with David Dobrik and a youtuber yourself. He knows you like Tom like the rest of your friends so he gets in touch with him and plays a prank on you.
“Y/n lie down” David says with a smile on his face as I enter his apartment. Immediately I give him a confused look to why.
“No thanks imma sit on the couch” I drop onto the couch next to Don who was smoking pot as normal. I would of thought he died by now but he didn’t.
“No trust me you’ll be fine I promise it’s a surprise” I immediately knew not to do it because of the pranks he had been playing on other people lately. Luckily I wasn’t going to fall for it, I hope.
“David I’m not doing it”
“Please Y/n I’ll give you $30” he pleads and I make the offer go higher to about 50. Whatever the surprise was it better be worth $50 because Don was so mad I got the money. Most of the time he gave it to me as click bait but he actually physically gave it to me.
I lie down on the hard floor with a nervous knot in my stomach. If he killed me I would haunt him for the rest of his life. It wasn’t long till David covered my eyes with a piece of clothing so I couldn’t see what the surprise was and got his camera out.
“Okay just keep calm and don’t freak out” I heard a couple snickers in the background but I’m guessing that was from Jason and Josh. It was surprising how well they got on behind the camera. After a couple minutes of waiting and cursing at David I felt a massive weight on my leg.
“OH MY GOD!! DAVID GET IT OFF ME!” I screamed as I couldn’t move my feet. Whatever it was it was really heavy and I didn’t like it at all. Fear ran through my body and came out of my mouth.
“I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD I WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU LOVE!”
I frantically wave my hands around trying to get a feel of what was on me. It was bigger than expected and I felt even more scared as it grabbed my hands.
“DAVID!! DAVID WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” I screamed as everyone laughed at me.
“You can take your blindfold off now” an unfamiliar voice laughed. The voice was unfamiliar but deep down I knew who it was. It was a voice I really liked to here and couldn’t believe to hear in real life.
“That’s hard since my hands are being held” with that said I’m guessing Liza took it off for me. My eyes were still shut because I didn’t want to open them.
“Y/n you can open you eyes now” Liza said before laughing herself. I don’t know how anyone found this funny.
“I’m not going to because I swear there is a male whore above me”
“I am many things but a male whore is not one of them” the accent came out quite think but I understand stood every word he said. I open my eyes slowly and one at a time. My heart started beating faster as I saw the face I only dreamed of seeing.
“THOMAS STANLEY FUCKING HOLLAND” I screamed a little loudly. He was amused at my fangirlingness and plastered a smile on his face.
“Wow you look hot in real life” Tom smiles and I felt my cheeks gain a little colour.
“I thought this would freak you out a lot” I then realised that he recorded the whole thing and he was going to use it in the volg.
“1. I am by the fact that there is a guy sitting on my lap 2. The guy is Tom Holland” I almost practically scream from happiness. I couldn’t stop smiling but I was still confused to why he was sitting on me.
“Awe you’re cute”
“Thanks but you’re kind of on top of me and I’d really like to punch David” he laughed lightly and it sounded like heaven.
“Sure” Tom got up off the floor before helping me up too. If I knew this was going to happen I would of put a lot more effort into my looks seeing as I was wearing a flannel and ripped skinny jeans.
“David I actually hate you” I glare at the boy who still had his camera on. Everyone else was just shocked that David got hold of Spider-Man for me, to be fair we were shocked he did something so nice for me seeing as he always did the worst pranks on me.
“Say that to me after this” David had a smirk on his face and I started getting scared again. A pair of hands grab onto my waist and turn me to face them before they attach their lips onto mine. At first I stood completely still because I couldn’t believe this happened to me but then I slowly got into it. There were a lot of cheering as we pulled away from each other.
“Okay how much did David pay you to do that?” I ask perplexed.
“Um nothing actually I just really wanted to kiss you”
“No this is a dream, my celebrity crush wouldn’t just waltz into my friends apartment and kiss me-”
“Wanna go out for dinner sometime?” The British boy asks out of no where. I blink whilst his dreamy brown eyes locked onto mine making me realise this was real.
“Definitely” I nod seeing a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. This was probably the best day of my life.
Coffee Shop AU where Eren has been trying to woo Levi with increasingly intricate latte art. Only Levi doesn’t really notice. But he does notice how long it takes. And he does notice that it’s cold. So finally after Eren has drawn a pair of wings and set down the cup batting his eyelashes, Levi has had enough.
“Look, I just want it scalding hot and I can do without all this foamy bullshit, so please, for next time, just make it quick so I can get out of here and get back to work, okay?”
The barista behind the counter glared at him, but Levi was too busy glued to his phone to notice.
The next time he came through Hanji bounced about peeking over the counter.
“A heart! A tree! A leaf! No! It’s–”
“Will you stop guessing? And you–” Levi snapped his fingers. “Messy apron! Let’s get going here. Don’t entertain this idiot.”
He set down Hanji’s latte carefully.
“A cat!” they crowed with delight snapping a picture for their Instagram.
“Why do you insist we come here?” Levi said impatiently, checking his phone again. “I hate our society’s obsession with aesthetic over content. Sure it looks good, but you’re just getting cold fucking foam over coffee that tastes like shit.”
The barista finally finished with Levi’s cup and set it down.
“Finally,” Levi said picking it up.
He paused for a moment to examine the little turd that the barista had crafted complete with small flies buzzing about. He snorted.
What no rose this time?” Levi drawled and when the barista continued to watch him with his arms folded over his chest, Levi curled his fingers over the rim of the cup and took a long sip. “I don’t even care.”
The barista’s look darkened. Yet, he did not let up. The next day Levi received a cup with a middle finger made of foam. The day after that he received a frown-y face. Then the day after that he was actually given an iced latte by his barista nemesis.
And then on a Wednesday he found a plain foamy drink in front of him.
“Finally give up did you?” Levi tried to keep the smirk out of his voice, but it wasn’t his usual barista, it was a smaller, blonde man. “Oh. Where’s the other guy?”
“Oh Eren? He quit.”
Quit. The words fell on Levi like ton of bricks.
The next day, his barista–Eren–still wasn’t there. Did he really quit? And quit over Levi? Levi paced as he waited for his drink, flexing his fingers in an agitated manner. The newer barista set down his cup and Levi seized upon him.
“Did he say where he went? Messy Apron–er, Eren. I mean, people don’t just up and quit jobs for no reason. Did he get a job somewhere else or–?”
Levi didn’t even finish before the barista slowly rotated the cup. Inside was a perfectly drawn arrow. Levi stared at it and then tilted his head before following where it pointed. Behind him he found Eren, sitting at a table, sticking a pen in his hair as he wrote down notes. Levi’s feet seemed to move on their own.
“You shouldn’t–you shouldn’t quit just because someone is an ass to you,” Levi said, fiddling with his scarf. “That’s just–”
“Relax, I didn’t quit, I just took the morning shift,” he said, not looking up from his notes.
“Oh,” said Levi.
“I asked to take it,” Eren emphasized.
“Oh,” said Levi in an even smaller voice.
“I mean, do you have any idea how infuriating it is when you spend so much of your time making something beautiful and to have the person you have a crush on just refuse it? Do you know what it’s like to put that much effort and have them not even notice?”
“Sortof,” said Levi.
“I hate coffee,” Levi blurted out. Confessed was more like it actually. “It’s bitter and it tastes like burnt asshairs. Even cutting it with milk does nothing to the taste. I hate coffee. I’ve always hated coffee. Every time I have it my insides feel like they’re about to fall out.”
Eren threw up his hands in frustration.
“Then why on earth would you come here every day and order–oh. Oh.”
The tips of Levi’s ears went red.
“Then what do you like?” Eren asked.
“Tea,” Levi answered, face now burning.
“Well then,” Eren said, standing up and putting on his coat. “Would you like to get a cup of tea with me?”
“Yes,” said Levi dazedly taking Eren’s extending arm.
He’s been one ever since he was a kid and would ask his parents all sorts of questions, ever so curious about the world. So of course, his scientific curiosity was peaked when he and Iris started sleeping together. He wanted to know everything about her. What spots to kiss make her whimper. What light touches cause her breath to catch. Where to give a small bite to get her to moan. Oh yes, he was very studious in the science of Iris West. So, imagine his surprise when, during sex, he breathlessly mentioned how beautiful she looked riding him, how good she was at taking him in, Iris shuddered and kissed him, moving faster till she climaxed. Afterward, when she asleep in his arms, the gears in Barry’s head turned. He had to admit, what had just happened was different. It wasn’t like sex with Iris was boring. They often tried new things, especially with his ability to vibrate his limbs. However, this was an interesting development, that required further study….
This is my CSSV gift for the lovely @hopeandbeans. I hope you have an amazing Valentine’s Day!
During our conversations over the weeks, you mentioned baking and fluff, so here is a light-hearted, baking-themed AU I wrote for you. It was a pleasure getting to know you and I truly hope you enjoy your gift.
Your CS Secret Valentine,
Summary: Owning a cupcake and candy shop has always been Killian’s dream and managing a Hallmark Store was far from a fairytale for Emma. But when piercing blue-eyed Irish man meets green-eyed, sassy blonde, it just might be a match made in heaven. Every holiday and special occasion, they both buy product from each other for their family and significant others, until one year when they both end up single on Valentine’s Day and exchange more than just cards and sweets.
It was Emma’s first week as store manager and she was pulling her hair out trying to learn the register and figure out where everything went while restocking and setting up displays. She had experience with managing convenience stores and gift shops back in Boston but Storybrooke was something quite different.
Nestled in Northern Maine, the citizens of the quiet town all seemed to migrate to this one shopping center - the Storybrooke Mall. Which Emma guessed was understandable considering that it took up almost half of Storybrooke - okay, that might be exaggerating a bit. But still, she couldn’t fathom where all of these people could be coming from. And she was pretty sure the water was contaminated with some kind of happy potion because they were all super exuberant and enthusiastic and just overall way too giddy like they were all hopped up on caffeine and sugar. And for some reason they all decided to do their shopping at the Hallmark Store. It wasn’t even a holiday.
Emma had finished up most of her final tasks of the day and was anchored behind the front counter after she had sent the last employee home. Being on her feet for a little over twelve hours and taking in everything that was thrown at her during her training that week was enough to make her want to go home, crawl into her comfortably warm bed and sleep for a month.
She was already regretting her decision to come here. To leave Boston with the hopes of starting fresh seemed a little ridiculous now. Nevertheless, she promised her best friend, Mary Margaret, that she would give the place a chance. She exhaled a heavy sigh. Why did she always make promises she knew she couldn’t keep?
The customers dwindled down to none and it was nearing nine o’clock. Emma was literally counting down the seconds when she looked over the counter displays and caught a glimpse of someone entering the store. Emma was cursing under her breath and praying that the last-minute customer would just make their purchases and leave, when a pair of blue eyes came into her line of sight. Emma was not the type of girl to get flustered or all googly-eyed over a man. She didn’t easily get swept off of her feet and she certainly didn’t swoon. Real life was not a freaking hallmark card for crying out loud.
im not a skilled artist but im a great comic and modest too because i take full advantage of my limitations. instead of making people look real with all sorts of angles i try to make sure that their body language is wacky and expressive.
if im trying to draw something Actually Emotional ill usually put a lot more effort into it though, with moderate success. thats my pitfall lol everything i make is too cutesy. so with that obstacle: how do we make cutesy stuff emotional? usually with symbols.
if you cant use the character and their expressions alone to make a thing serious you can find some other way to tell the reader whats going on. are they looking in shock as someone is hurt? are they holding an item that the viewer will assocate with a kind of loss? most importantly is colour. when you want something to have strong emotions you work hard to make it dynamically coloured with lighting too, when you want something to have weak emotions (including depression) you may instead use flatter, dull colours. maybe even black and white.
the only thing cutesy art cant do at all is edge. but who cares
Auston stays true to his word. You’ve just finished re-wrapping your ace bandage around your ribs and are waiting for Steph to get back so you can walk to dinner together when he knocks at the door.
He walks in, cheeks flushed from dryland and his hair still wet from his post-workout shower.
“Hey,” you say quietly, shy all of a sudden.
“Hey yourself,” he replies, throwing himself down onto your bed. But he doesn’t quite fit, the lower half of his legs hanging off the end of the bed frame. He sighs loudly.
You hold back a laugh. “Rough day?”
“Circuit training,” he groans.
“Ugh - the worst. I’m actually glad I didn’t have to go.” When Auston gives you a strange look, you add quickly, “don’t tell anyone I said that.”
He grins. “I would never.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“No one would believe me.”
“True enough.” You sigh and sit down on Steph’s bed opposite to him. He’s closed his eyes, and you peer closer at the deep purple circles under them. He looks exhausted. “You gonna fall asleep on me?”
“Maybe,” he murmurs.
You smile to yourself as you stand up. “Alright, make yourself at home. I’ll be back later - Steph’s probably forgotten that she was going to walk with me to dinner. Do you want me to get you anything?”
He says something imperceptible, his words muffled by the pillow.
“Is that a yes or no?”
“Mmphf.” He props himself up onto his elbows. “It’s a no - but wait, don’t go to dinner.” He catches your wrist with his hand and looks up at you with pleading eyes.
“Auston, as much as the idea of staying here and cuddling with you is tempting,” you say and his cheeks redden more than they already are. “I didn’t have lunch, and so I’m a bit hangry.”
“Hungry plus angry. I’m not a nice person to be around when I’m like this.”
“Now it all makes sense.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “So will you let me go?” You look pointedly down at his hand, which is still wrapped around your wrist.
He releases his grip on you. “Yes - but not to the mess hall. I have a surprise for you.”
You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. Your stomach clenches angrily. “This surprise better involve food, otherwise I don’t think you’ll be around for much longer.”
“I think you’ll be pleased with what I have in mind.”
Five minutes later, the two of you are standing in front of a sleek-looking black BMW.
“Whose car is this?” You peer around to look at the Ontario license plate. “Definitely not yours, considering you’re an Arizona boy.”
You turn to him, exasperated. “You made me walk all the way over here to show off your friend’s car? I swear to god, boys think that if they have some fancy ass car-”
“What do you mean ‘get in’? This is Mitch’s car! I’m going to the mess-”
“Y/N,” he says, his voice strained. “It’s part of the surprise - just get in the car.” He opens the passenger door.
“Oh. Okay, sorry.” You walk around to the passenger side, sliding in and closing the door behind you. You notice begrudgingly that the interior is all black leather. Mitch has good taste.
Auston hops into the driver’s seat and starts the car.
“Should I trust you to be driving?”
He looks over at you as he switches the car into reverse. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what you think it means.”
“And what would that be?” He pulls out of the camp’s front entrance and a little thrill shoots through you.
“Do I need to call an Uber? Is an American license even valid here? Do you even have a license?”
“Do you want food or not?”
“So that’s a no on the license then?” You pull out your phone, pretending to open your Uber app.
“Y/N, stop.” Auston laughs, reaching over and trying to swat at your phone. You pull it away, out of his reach.
“Two hands on the wheel mister.”
“God, you’re like my driving instructor.”
“Oh, so you do have a license.”
Auston sighs. “Could you please pass me my hat and sunglasses, it’s very sunny and my instructor always told me to wear them if it was too bright out. They’re on the back seat.”
You twist around and grab a baseball cap with a Toronto Maple Leafs’ logo stitched onto it and a pair of black shades.
“Ooh, the Leafs. Nice choice,” you say, sticking the hat on your head and placing the glasses in his outstretched hand.
“Where’s the hat?” He answers his own question when he turns his head. He does a double take. “It looks really good on you.”
“Thanks.” You blush and pull the cap further down on your head. He puts on his sunglasses and grins at you.
Ten minutes later, you’ve driven all the way into the neighbouring town. Several quaint shops line the sides of the road, each one different from the next, their hand-painted signs advertising fresh produce, home-baked goods, and the like. Normally you prefer the busyness of the city, but this place oozes a small-town charm that you can’t resist. You feel yourself eagerly leaning towards the window, trying to take everything in.
Auston notices this. “You that hungry?”
“What?” You jump back, slightly startled by his voice.
“You were practically climbing out the window towards that bakery.”
“Maybe I was just trying to escape from you.”
“Seems like it. We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he answers your unspoken question.
He turns on to the next street and parks the car parallel to the curb. “It’s just a short walk from here.”
You both get out of the car, and you climb up onto the sidewalk and wait as he locks the doors. “All good. Let’s go.” He reaches over and takes your hand. “This okay?” He nods at your intertwined hands.
“Um-uh-yes,” you stammer, blushing furiously. All he has to do is hold your hand and you’re rendered speechless.
You both walk down the street past a clump of trees, revealing a small restaurant tucked in among the long line of pines.
“Okay, so I talked to Steph and tried to figure out where it would be best to go and what you like to eat and this place matched up with most of what she said, but if you don’t like it we could go somewhere else or I’ll drive back to camp or even-”
“Auston, relax. I’m sure it will be perfect.”
He lets out a huge breath. “Okay, because I was really nervous that I would drive out here to surprise you but then you wouldn’t like anything.”
“You are honestly so adorable,” you say bluntly and Auston flushes red from head to toe. “But I am the least picky eater ever, so you had nothing to worry about.” You squeeze his hand and look up at him.
He smiles and squeezes your hand back. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
You both walk into the restaurant, but instead of sitting down like you expect, he whispers something into the host’s ear. The host nods and then disappears. A minute later he reappears with a large bag of something. Auston slips him some cash and thanks him, before leading you out the door.
“That was like some sort of drug deal.”
“It was like what?” He turns to look at you, surprised.
“A drug deal. You walked in there, whispered some sketchy things to the host dude and then he goes to the back and gets you a non-descript bag of something, you hand him the cash, and then we hightailed it out of there. Plus, you’re wearing sunglasses. That’s some shady business right there.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You have a one-of-a-kind imagination.”
“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it. So, what’s in the bag? Anything good?”
“You’ll see in a second.” He leads you back to the car, where he puts the bag in the backseat. You drive out of the town, but instead of heading back to camp, he steers the car in the opposite direction.
“Is this the part where you take me to a very quiet place in the woods to murder me, and then dispose of my body in that bag?”
“You caught me.”
“Will I at least get to eat first?”
“Then I will die a happy girl.”
He laughs at your statement and shakes his head. “Just down this driveway and then we’re there.”
He turns the car down a gravel path that winds through trees that overhang above to create a canopy. The fading sunlight filters down through the leaves, creating dappled shadows on the road ahead.
“Wow, this is beautiful.”
He grins, obviously pleased by your reaction. “This isn’t even the best part.”
As the car rounds the corner, the trees seem to pull apart, revealing a small stretch of beach and rocky outcroppings by the edge of a lake. The water is absolutely still, reflecting the bright streaks of colour from the sunset above. You’re shocked into silence.
Even as Auston helps you out of the car and grabs the bag and a blanket from the back seat, you don’t say a word. Instead, you stare in amazement at the scene in front of you. You grab his hand and walk silently over to the beach, where you help him lay out the blanket and unpack the containers of food, which thankfully, have kept it warm.
“Is water fine?” he asks, holding a bottle out to you.
You take it and nod. Your eyes have hardly moved from the lake.
He follows your gaze. “It’s something else, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” you say very softly. Then you turn your attention to the boy sitting to your left. He’s staring out at the lake, and he’s so beautiful you’re having a hard time comprehending that he is actually here, sitting beside you, and has put in all this effort to surprise you. An inexplicable feeling of happiness bubbles up inside you.
“What?” he asks, noticing your stare.
“Thank-you,” you say simply. “No one has ever done something so thoughtful for me. I’m so happy right now, and I can’t quite put the feeling into words, but thank-you so much for doing this.” You bend forward and kiss his cheek very gently.
When you pull away, he looks like he wants to grab you and pull you back down to kiss you properly, but you can see him weigh the options in his mind. “Let’s eat - the food’s probably getting cold,” he says.
You tear your eyes away from him and look down at the array of food surrounding you. “This is amazing Auston, honestly.”
Anonymous asked: Hi! Can you write a imagine Elliot x Reader where reader is Gideon’s daughter and when they meet for the first time at Allsafe, there’s sexual tension between them? Later, they meet again and things get hot between them (sorry about my bad english, I’m from Portugal and I’m absolutely in love with your writing!)
Here you go! I hope you enjoy it! P.S. Don’t worry about your English I think it’s excellent :) readers be warned this is a smutty one
i had this chloenette idea where chloe and mari are partnered for this art project and chloe is all ready to be Fighting™ but mari decides she just wants to get this over with and along the way chloe looks over at her and idk mari is doing something cute like sticking her tongue out and chloe is like "....oh" and starts blushing like mad and mari is just like "???" and awkwardness ensues
……… *frantically grabs her keyboard*
Chloe heard her name and Marinette’s name called out by their teacher, and she wanted to freaking die.
After the first couple of projects where work wasn’t handed in, two separate projects were handed in out of spite, and presentations just dissolved into heated arguments and angrily waving laser pointers, it became an unspoken rule amongst their teachers that Chloe and Marinette could notbe partnered together for projects. Seriously. It was for the safety and sanity of the whole class. For the greater good. For peace and prosperity.
Clearly their art teacher didn’t give a single crap about that.
Marinette just let out a flat, stern, “No.”
“Ditto,” Chloe snarled. “Keep her five hundred and ten feet away from me or I swear to god I’m going to have an aneurism.”
Their art teacher sounded much to patient with them, and Chloe found the whole thing suspicious. “Darlings, it’s actually wonderful that you two don’t see eye to eye. The whole point of the project is to display two different interpretations of the same scene. Disagreements are encouraged!”
“I don’t think you understand,” Marinette explained. “You put us at the same table, and I will not be held responsible for any damages when I kill her.”
“Oh bite me, Dupain-Cheng! I’m wearing heels today. Don’t make me dropkick you.”
Marinette snorted. “Sure you’re not going to break a nail putting in some actual physical effort?”
Chloe smirked cruelly. “Oh, I’ll be breaking something alright….”
“Girls!” their teacher interrupted. “Enough of this nonsense, you’re young ladies! Group assignments are final. But since you two seem so privy towards enacting bodily harm, you’ll be sitting at my desk at the front of the room so I can keep an eye on you. One argument, and I’ll mark you both down 3 points. Is that understood?”
Chloe felt her eye twitch. She’d already been getting notes home from her teachers about issues regarding homework assignments that looked to similar to others in her class and group projects where she admittedly contributed a minimal amount of effort. She really couldn’t afford to be knocked down points because Marinette decided to be a literal nightmare. She didn’t think her father would be too pleased to see her come home with another note to sign and another pile of extra homework.
Crap. She was going to have to be civil. Gross.
Their teacher clapped her hands impatiently. “Move along now, ladies. Grab your sketchbooks and come sit up here. Time is precious!”
Chloe made a show of grabbing her art supplies, huffing as loudly as she could, and stomping over to their teacher’s desk. Marinette slumped down in the seat right next to Chloe, both of them keeping their gazes straight ahead and refusing to acknowledge each other. They had a full view of the entire class that was already hurriedly getting to work on their own projects, meanwhile Chloe was quickly trying to calculate how she was going to survive this period without wanting to bang her head against the chalkboard.
Marinette broke first. “We get this over with as soon as possible. Agreed?”
“Well, duh. No need to sit here with you any longer than necessary.”
“God, would you stop for two seconds? Look, we don’t necessarily have to talk to each other to do this. We have the prompt, and we can just sketch our interpretations on our own. We’ll…..just pretend we talked together about it afterwards and bullshit the reports later. Sound like a plan?”
“A plan where I don’t have to interact with you? It’s like freakin’ heaven on Earth. I wonder where the choir of angels is.”
Marinette let out a withering sigh as Chloe smirked and turned to her sketchpad. “Let’s just….work. And not speak to each other. Can we do that?”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Chloe answered. “You make it sound as if I’m dreading the very thought.”
Admittedly, it wasn’t as horrible as Chloe was anticipating it would be. Once the two of them buckled down to do their own work, it was very easy to pretend that Marinette didn’t exist. Plus there was nothing more encouraging than having their teacher stare them down critically from across the room to make sure they didn’t attack each other in the middle of the class period. Chloe supposed that the impending threat of a failing grade was also a pretty good motivator as well. However, Chloe wasn’t much of an artist and personally didn’t see the point of the art classes they took anyway. It only took her about 15 minutes to grow completely bored before she dropped her pencil and peeked over at Marinette’s work.
It was so annoying that Marinette was such a good artist. One, because Chloe hated admitting that Marinette was better than her at anything, and two because there was no way for Chloe to spontaneously become a better artist to spite Marinette back. Chloe wasn’t a bad artist per se, but staring in between their two sketchbooks was downright infuriating and Chloe was so tempted to make a biting comment just to piss Marinette off. She remembered to reign herself in and instead pulled out her cellphone to take a break for a couple of minutes before trying to draw again.
Chloe had refreshed her Facebook news feed three times when she suddenly heard humming coming from her right. She rolled her eyes and was about to tell Marinette to shut the ever loving hell up – Facebook required concentration for God’s sake – but she turned to Marinette and felt her jaw go slack.
She must’ve really not been paying attention because she didn’t even notice when Marinette pulled out her pigtails and threw her hair up into a bun. The baby hairs at the back of her neck were hanging loose, and there was one strand of hair tickling the side of her cheek. Chloe didn’t think she’d ever seen Marinette in a bun before. It was….odd, but in a way that didn’t fill Chloe with annoyance. If anything, she had to grudgingly admit that she looked….nice with her hair up. Softer somehow.
The sleeves to her button down were rolled up to her elbows, probably because the charcoal sticks she was using were getting all over her fingers and forearms. There was just a small smudge of black on the bridge of Marinette’s nose – like she’d rubbed her face and didn’t realize she’d accidentally dirtied it – and damn it all, it was cute. Chloe glared at the thought. Well that was ridiculous. Since when was Marinette cute? That was such a wrong word to use for her. Marinette was infuriating, unsupportable, and most certainly not aesthetically pleasing, adorable messy buns and charcoal smudges aside.
It was then that Chloe recognized the song that Marinette was humming along to – some new, catchy hit that had been repeating on the radio all week. Marinette was bobbing her head and swaying her body along to the beat while she worked, as if having a song and a rhythm in her head helped her work. She started smiling when she got to the chorus, and just as she started brushing her middle finger across her project to smudge her lines, her tongue came poking out of the corner of her mouth as she began concentrating even harder.
Chloe blinked. Shit. Okay. Fine. That was really precious. Super adorable. She didn’t think people actually did that, yet here was Marinette doing that and looking downright charming while she did it. The whole image was just so completely non threatening, and it didn’t make Chloe want to hate her. It made Chloe want to tuck her loose hairs into her bun, rub the smudge off her nose, and watch her while she worked. Marinette was so often fighting with her, it wasn’t often that Chloe got to observe her sit so still and act so absorbed in her work. It was surprising, was all. So surprising that Chloe just kept staring at every little detail just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. After all, she didn’t really want to work on her project. And she had nothing else better to do…
“Um….can I help you?”
Chloe blinked, shook her head, and was suddenly meeting eyes with a very perplexed looking Marinette. She’d stopped sketching and was regarding Chloe cautiously. Chloe realized that she was still facing Marinette. Crap. Had she spaced out? Had she caught her staring? Dammit.
“N-Nothing,” Chloe scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t need anything from you, Marinette.”
Marinette raised a brow. “You were staring…”
“Yes,” Marinette replied patiently. “Yes you were, you were totally spaced out and staring right at me. What is it?”
Marinette didn’t sound angry or annoyed. She just sounded confused, which meant that Chloe hadn’t done something irritating like she normally did. She’d done something weird and that was enough to have Marinette looking at her like she’d suddenly started handing out presents and compliments to her entire class. God, what the hell was she thinking? How had she not noticed where her gaze was falling? How on Earth was she supposed to explain her way out of this one?
“Don’t flatter yourself darling,” Chloe tried to recover. “This project is abysmally boring, and I was trying to drown out everything around me. Like I would waste my time staring at someone like you.”
It seemed to have worked because Marinette responded by rolling her eyes and turning back to her project. “Whatever you say, Chloe….”
Chloe breathed out a quiet sigh of relief and decided now was as good a time as any to go back to her own drawing. The fewer chances she gave herself to stare at Marinette, the better.
Not that it mattered anyway, because Marinette was still humming next to her. Which made Chloe think of her cute head bobbing. Which made her think of her lovely hairstyle. Which made her think how nice Marinette looked in button downs. Which made her think how darling it was that Marinette pouted her lips while she sketched. Which made her think how in the hell she hadn’t noticed that Marinette was freakin’ beautiful this entire time?!
Okay. Okay, yeah, so she definitely just thought that. Shit.
“Chloe Bourgeois!” her teacher hollered from the other end of the room. “Mind your language please!”
Chloe bit down on her bottom lip and covered her mouth with her hand. She looked sideways at Marinette who was staring at her oddly again before shaking her head and turning back to her drawing. Chloe pressed her fingertips to her temples and leaned her elbows on the table, staring at the desktop in abject disbelief.