M.M.R @mollerson - Tumblr Blog

Writing Requests Game

Send me a pairing and a prompt in my Ask Box and I'll write you a few paragraphs. The prompt can be a word, phrase, sentence or image/gif, whatever you wish.

In the tags, I've included details of what fandoms/pairings/tropes I'm open to write for. I can also write snippets based on my existing fics from AO3 if you like.

Reblog if your ask box is open for requests.

mollerson

@walrusface, thank you for making the writing game and I wanna take a crack at it! Godspeed to everyone who see this!

So yall, if yall have a pairing yall like and have some prompts that you want me to write!! My ask box is open 😊

The things I’m most comfortable with are in the tags, I do like writing fluffy, cute things! Maybe something spicy if requested.

Let’s the game begin 🫶

#writing game #verstave #vernoco #vermongoose #restave #Restavelan

walrusface

The Writing Request Game (So Far)

I've been having so much fun with writing game over here. I've written for nearly half of my requests so far (and I'm technically closed for new requests, but I'm also still quietly adding any late requests to my to-write list, so "closed" is a flexible term, really) and am just taking a chance to collate what I've written so far.

I'll post an updated list at the end of July once I've written the other prompts!

Ficlets Written By Me

Frank/Matt, Sexual Tension

Gustave/Lucien, Maelle's Ending Reunion

Gustave/Lune, Adopting A Kitten

Gustave/Sophie, Break-Up

Gustave/Verso, Dungeons & Dragons

Gustave/Verso, Rimming

Gustave/Verso, Trains

Gustave/Verso, Hannibal

Gustave/Verso, Gustave Whump

Gustave/Verso, Gustave Stoker's Journal

Gustave/Verso, Vampire Gustave Begging

Ficlets Written For Me!

I've been hugely taking advantage of everyone's open ask boxes and have been lucky enough to receive some amazing ficlets.

Gen by rhibbet, Alicia sees someone that looks like Gustave in Maelle's Ending

Gustave/Renoir by zombiearmor, Gustave in a suit

Gustave/Renoir by mollerson, Renoir obsessing over Gustave's lovely hair

Gustave/Renoir by DrakesFortune67, Renoir meets writer!Gustave

Gustave/Verso by anivy-chan, Verstave in their flower suits

Gustave/Verso by zombiearmor, domso aftercare

Gustave/Verso by einradi, Verstave watching the sunset

Hello there! For the writing game, how about some fluffy domestic verstave. Maybe it’s only recently after the events of the game and all ended in a as-happily-ever-after-as-possible 3rd ending. Verso is unused to the comforts of a proper home after so long out on the Continent and Gustave surprises him with breakfast in bed.

what a fun and cute prompt please enjoy this little bit of slow and soft Verstave

Verso could never have guessed his life would be like this.

The world had gone dark for a moment, for his body was finally at peace. Then a light opened up in front of him. The smell of paint took over his nose with a hint of turpentine that seemed to lessen the weight on him, keeping him down.

There was something strange, for it was calling to him… on voices he recognised in an instant - line and Sciel calling to him, Monoco's staff coming through the light with the bell ringing to guide him, and finally, a hand - a mechanical reached out. He had seen it only once or twice before this.

He gripped with all his might and allowed himself to be pulled out. His friends had come to get him a new canvas, one without the need for a paintress to be inside.

He came out of the light pretty fast and with such force that he couldn't control the way his body landed on something, or rather someone. As Verso first met those deep pools of brown, wide eyes filled with life and content and the way the man's hair, those curls that framed his face with ease.

This is how he, Verso Dessendre, literally fell in love with Gustave.

Verso was known for his ability to flirt but not for his ability to court something into a long-term relationship, after weeks of visits to Gustave Workshop and finally asking the girls for help.

He was able to get Gustave out of the workshop and into a nearby restaurant. The invite he had sent was specifically for fancy attire. Verso stopped working the moment Gustave walked in with that white suit with the red flower tucked into his hair. The same one Sciel said to put in his own. The girls had clearly schemed behind his back, but he was… thankful. It was a nice talking point for them, and now they could enjoy their time. the food, the wine and each other's company, followed by a walk along the harbour. where they walked side by side, hands brushing gently next to each other.

It wasn't long before the next date, then their first kiss and eventually, after months of discussing, their first night tonight. No one knows what happened behind closed doors, but it solidified them.

Verso awoke, he woke up feeling rested, his hand moved across the bed to where his partner should be… but when his hand only felt the soft fabric of the mattress, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and noticed he woke up alone in his apartment. part of him thought it was all a dream, their dates and more, but then, looking across the room to the desk that housed Verso's sheet music and some of Gustave's blueprints, he, sneakily, brought home with him from work. He saw Gustave's clothes on the chair and finally their photographs that hung on the wall.

The man lay back down on the pillow, turning more to Gustave's side of the bed; he could still smell him. The scent of his lover, his partner, made him relax instantly.

He started his daydream, his hands taking a grab of the duvet and taking it in his arms as if Gustave was there.

He was pulled out when he heard the bedroom door being knocked. It was light but against the wood, slightly echoed.

Verso sat back. He quickly ran his hand through his hair, trying to neaten it up, as if Gustave had never seen him in his sleep with no care in the world.

The smile that appeared on his face as his fresh-faced boyfriend walked in with a tray of food. Verso adjusted himself by placing a few of the pillows he had just behind his back for a better position.

Gustave waltzed into the room. He danced slightly as he carefully carried the tray over to the bed and gently placed it on the bed sheets, on top of Verso's legs.

Verso's eyes widened at the variety of food he was presented with, the large glass of orange juice, and, finally, he felt the soft warmth of lips kissing his forehead. "Bonjour, Mon ange, did you sleep well?" "Gustave, what's… what the occasion?… oh, oh god… I missed something important… I…" Verso just spiralled, for the fear started to well in his eyes. His first actual relationship, and he truly messed it up.

"Shhhh, Mon Ange, you've not messed up nor have you missed anything." Gustave smiled, placing a finger under Verso's chin and kissing him, knowing that the only way to shut him up was by kissing him. It was slow, sweet and soft as Verso melted to the touch.

They gently released, and Gustave took a soft breath in relief. "I wanted to do something nice for you, and I think you would like being treated like royalty for the morning… however…" Gustave looked to the side, looking away with guilt across his face.

"What did you do, Mon tresor?… don't tell me… oh no." Verso knew it instantly. "… my poor kitchen."

"Well, I've given you something to do after a hearty breakfast and some time in bed." Gustave leaned forward and stole a strawberry from atop the crepe. biting into the fruit and letting the juice drip down.

"Oh, you minx, teasing me that so that afterwards I'm not going to be so angry about how messy my lovely kitchen is…

Gustave laughed and ate the strawberry, licking his fingers seductively, "Well, it works… doesn't it…."

"Absolutely…"

#verstave #gustave #verso dessendre

Writing game! How about some Vernoco with Monoco learning a new thing about Verso he might not have ever realized before?

ohhh what a fun prompt.... lets get down to business with Monoco learning that Verso can do what?!

For all the time that Monoco had known Verso, he thought he knew everything - every little quirk and trick that the man could do. Most of them had been things that they had worked on together, from a very particular fighting stance to how Verso cleaned his Nevron feet while humming away. They had been through thick and thin together.

Things never really changed when they had joined the larger camp, learning their new quirks, how the girls would talk about plans and how to move forward, how he watched the older two look at Verso in a certain way. To Monoco, he found it entertaining as Verso refused their advances, not out of kindness but out of loyalty. Verso and Monoco had a kinship that was tested most days, but when something changed. It was a day like any other on the continent - walking through the warmer plains when the group encountered something they had never seen before, at least the humans commented that these things were more commonly found in warmer climates, but could be grown in specialised greenhouses. There were many of these things - many different shapes and sizes which were paired with a rainbow of many colours. The gang had wandered into some sort of orchard. Monoco had no memory of such a thing before, but here they were.

His fellows explained to him that these things were called fruits - there was a collection of lemons and limes, larger fruit like melons and oranges, but the thing that took his attention was the smaller fruits - those of the cherries and the grapes. Monoco had heard about grapes before, but he had never seen one up close. He had seen it in another form as wine, but never a bunch growing on a vine. The expedition collected what they could. a mix of different fruits to include in their meals and hopefully maybe try to make something sweet… to Monoco sweet wants too foreign a concept as he had been told about birthday cakes and sweet bread, but for a Gestral with no mouth. He never knew what the taste would be.

That evening, the girls prepared fruit skewers and placed them above the fire, cooking and purifying the fruit before they could eat the food. The gestral sat in the corner of camp, continuing to polish his new batch of Nev feet he had acquired after a glorious day of fighting. He sat by himself for a good portion of it.

It wasn't until Verso sat next to him, with one of the skewers the girls had prepared, that he finally looked up for more than a few seconds before getting back to his work.

"You got one then?" Monoco commented, no real tone to it, but pure curiosity.

"Naturally, Mon Vieux, fruit is hard to come by, and we found a gold mine just… there. It felt like a trap, but we walked away unscathed." Verso took another bite of the fruit; the chargrilled fruit looked somewhat… satisfying.

"Maybe, for every 100 glorious fights we win, we take the one fight we don't have to… plus I have many feet to sort through…" Monoco had been very focused on his Nev feet until he glanced up. Verso had eaten most of the skewer, but he also had a small bag, a little leather one that Verso had filled up in the orchard. Verso took the fruit, a cherry and took it whole.

Monoco almost commented, knowing a human should at least remove the stem from the small fruit, but here, Verso had taken the whole thing. then Versos face was so focused as he worked… this confused the Gestral further.

"What on the paintress are you doing, Verso?" he said in surprise at the face the human was making.

When Verso stopped what he was doing and opened his mouth, Monoco was stunned. The stem, a rather short stem, had been tied. There was no use of hands or intervention… it had all been Verso's tongue.

He had never known; this was the first time they had eaten such foods in each other's presence.

Monoco.EXE stopped working as he placed down the feet and turned fully to the human. "Do that again, I want to watch it from the beginning!" Verso ate the one he had first, removing the stone first before getting the next one. This time for an easier job, Monoco watched him grab one with a longer stem and got to work.

In 5 seconds, Verso revealed the second cherry stem tied by his tongue, and he presented the fruit with a smile.

Monoco spent the whole evening in awe as he watched Verso show off his hidden talent, and when they ran out of cherries, the Gestral made it his mission to get more cherries for future… reasons.

#vernoco #monoco #verso dessendre

so... I hear you like Restave 👀

What if Writer Gustave was the old man, and Renoir was the young Painter in his 30s seeking connection with the other side? How would things play out if their roles were reversed?

MORE RESTAVE COMING UP This ended up longer than expected, but I wanted to flesh it out some more!!

Young Renoir Dessendre had been a bachelor painter for a while; there had been pleas to get him hitched to a lovely painter partner of his age, but that never worked; it never did. for he always yearned for more. Plus, the woman wasn't to his… tastes. So, to try and bridge the growing gap between writer and painter, the idea of sending him off to a selection ball was planned.

He was 22 when he was sent off to the arrangement ball, an event filled with writers and painters for conversations of peace and tranquillity. But for Renoir, he had no need or want for such a thing.

And yet, standing on the sidelines drinking his wine, he was absolutely starstruck. wearing writers' colours. He never meant to stare as long as he did, but the way the eyes found each other and the soft smile that started to form on the man's face. He was older, closer to 30, but the way the small, faint lines decorated his face made Renoir start to fawn more;

He didn't expect the man to leave the side of his friend and make his way to Renoir's own quiet corner he had created for himself. finishing, downing the last of his wine and already looking for another glass to drink cause he was too sober for whatever was going to come next.

"My, what's a young painter like yourself doing hiding in the corner? Shouldn't you be out there flirting up a storm?" the writer said, leaning on the wall next to Renoir. Renoir tried to hide his blush, hoping he had drunk enough to blame it on the wine, but he had no real excuse for not flirting with the other young people.

"What's wrong with wanting a quiet corner and watching the world go by?" Renoir retorted, coming across a little snarky.

" Oh oh, for a man who's… what… 20? 21? You definitely have an older soul!" the man responded, sipping his own glass and leaving a pause for a further retort. But none came for Renoir had nothing to say as the older man moved from his spot and walked closer towards him, clicking his glass and finishing up what was left. "So does the painter have anything to say for the writer?"

Renoir turned and finally noticed how close he had actually got; his eyes had moved from his face to the way the suit fitted the older gentleman perfectly. By the time he had processed the questions, he tried to drink from his empty glass. "Ah, well, im just curious about writers' abilities, I know what you can do, but how does it feel?"

The man smiles, "It's freeing, going into the story and writing something that can come to life, even for a moment. Of course, there's the nature of control, but we are under oath to never use it on others."

Renoir went to ask more; he wanted to do more than bridge the gap, but he was worried about saying the wrong thing. Before he could get another word out, a voice from the ballroom shouted Gustave. Both men stopped what they were doing.

"Nothing to say then, well, I would love to chat more, but I'm… needed. But please…" The older man rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a business card. "…If you ever call for help with any further questions, ask for me, Gustave." he slipped the business card into the younger man's shirt pocket and walked away with a single wave goodbye.

Renoir stood in that corner the whole evening. People asked him to take his hand and dance, but he refused all of them. hoping Gustave would return to him.

Though when he returned home with no prospect of marriage nor any ability to move socially, his parents chose for him to be sent to university across the water, in another country and when they found the business card. They threw it in the rubbish.

Renoir had no say; this was a push for his future, and he had to comply with that being a Dessendre was all about. he left with a single case of clothes and no idea if he would ever see his Gustave again.

10 years later.

He started dating and eventually married Aline, which pleased his parents. He was the future successful Dessendre when he sold his first pieces to galleries, and it all seemed to come together when he had the children. He was quite young when they had their final bundle of joy, which worked in their favour. Young enough that by the time he reached his mid-30s, his children were at an age where they could decide if they wanted to stay with Papa or Maman. The divorce went smoothly, or as smoothly as divorce could be.

And yet, for Renoir, Gustave's name always stayed on the tip of his tongue. It was a chance encounter, but he always regretted never writing down or remembering the number he had been given.

It was a chance encounter; it was the only way he could describe it. In a coffee shop, ordering something before he spent another day at the gallery before a major auction and yet, when he reached out for the coffee, that simple coffee order and accidentally reached at the same time as someone else.

"im so sorry, sir. I think that's min… oh."The older man who had actually grabbed the cup made eye contact, and Renoir felt like he was at that ball all those years again. He had barely changed, except for the lines on his face, cracked and hardened a little more, but the way that grey mixed into his brunette curls like shots of starlight. He didn't speak because he was engrossed in the man he had yearned over for years, who was just… there. The man was right in front of him.

Renoir brought his reaching hand back in and tried to speak. "Is that you, Gustave?"

"It is, it has been quite a long time." Gustave leaned in so that only Renoir could hear him, moving the cup off the collection counter so his whole body could shift into the space more easily." And I was quite sad that I never received a call from you."

Renoir's whole body felt hot; his face definitely had a coating of crimson as he blushed hard.

He was waiting, he was waiting for me to call, to ask… to ask for me."

Renoir finally shook off the feeling. "I wanted to, I did, but… the card was thrown away, and I was shipped off… Ah, wait, let us sit somewhere and we can talk, if you are free."

"Well, if you don't mind the older model, then yes, let's get you your coffee first, and we can find a nearby bench."

The day just went by in a flash; they talked about what they had been up to in the 15 years that they hadn't seen each other. their romances, their flings, what they missed.

Renoir learned about Sophie, the hope of moving on, but they could never make it work, and they decided being best friends was better. Renoir told of his adventures abroad.

When the sun finally started to set, before going their separate ways for the day. Gustave demanded a notebook to write down a phone number and an address.

Underneath that information was the coffee shop - the Love Bites Cafe and the date of the following week. where they were to meet for their next coffee and chat.

"So next week, same time and same order." Renoir smiled, but his heart seemed to beat with pain, for the fear he would not see him again, not without doing something. If he still wanted to bridge the gap, to be with the writer who changed everything with a single meeting. But with the notebook with the information, he immediately saved the information and sent a text as Gustave walked down the path.

They met the following week again, and then the next, things fell into place with this routine. Every week in the same cafe with the same order. while they would sit in the cafe and chat, discussing the nature of the current developments of the writers and the painters, to Gustave's newest books, which Renoir always made sure to pre-order every time. Renoir had made the time for the pair to meet at the gallery, and he would talk about the how and the why of certain art pieces. trying not to out that some came from his youth of want for the very man beside him.

Sometimes they would sit on the same bench and watch the day go by with little conversation. By Renoir's heart beat a little faster; he was nervous out of nowhere. Like he needed to do something, and he needed to do it now.

Gustave checked his watch and sighed. It was time, and Renoir knew he'd have to wait another week to see him again."That sounds good to me, well, I shall be off, Mr Dessendre." Gustave moved his way off the bench and started to take a step down a path.

Renoir jumped off the bench; it was now or never. "Wait!"

And with that, he did it, he ran up, grabbed Gustave by his coat collar and kissed him. Even if this was the first and last, he savoured it. When the hand pulled him in for more, lightly gripping his hair for more.

When they finally pulled away from each other, trying to gather their breath back. "I've been waiting 15 years for that… 15 years of want and yearning, I don't care if you are the older version. It's been you, it was always you."As the sun set, the two men stood whispering things only the two of them could know, and with another peck, finally walked in the same direction.

#restave #gustave #renoir dessendre #clair obscur: expedition 33 #ask game #writing game

omw with a Restave one for you

Renoir had been missing for weeks, nobody had heard from him, he wasn't answering his messages, and he'd basically disappeared

When Gustave breaks into the manor to try to search for answers, he finds Renoir sitting in front of his Canvas, eyes streaked with blue and white chroma, completely lost within the colors.

He's not a Painter. He's only ever gone into a Canvas with Renoir. He doesn't know what he's doing. But for the love of his life? He'd do anything...

in the words of our TEEHEE and OOPSY enjoy

Gustave bashed on the door; he didn't care that the rain had thoroughly soaked him. His heart raced in his chest as his hand pounded on the wood. His voice could only be described through heavy pants and cries as he demanded to be let in.

There was no answer. He hadn't gotten one for the weeks he had tried to get in. Everyone told him to give up. What was so special about the man in the manor? Even Emma had suggested he go see someone special, but he knew he wasn't crazy.

There was a man in that manor, a man Gustave loved with all his heart, who would visit him in his workshop, a man who brought the daily newspaper, a fresh bag of coffee and hours of endless conversation. He had been invited inside on a few occasions, as the man's partner, as Renoir's Dessendres partner. They explored the world of the painters together. When the house became empty, once all the Dessendre children had finally moved out. Gustave spent many days lounging about in many of the rooms. From the four-poster bed he shared with Renoir to the many hours of reading in the library.

The heart started to sink when the man hadn't turned up for 3 days, then 5 days, and once it hit a week, Gustave, who knew something was wrong.

Gustave had finally hit his limit. He hit the door one more time, using his whole body for one last impact…. nothing. His wet curls framed his face as they hid the streams of tears that mixed with the endless rain. He slouched down, his body now leaning on the door as all the energy sapped out of him.

Taking a deep breath, still determined to find out what was happening. He used the door to help him back up onto his feet and started to make his way around the back. He didn't like it. There was a pit in his stomach that knew that this was wrong. To anyone else, Gustave was the puppy that followed Renoir around; most thought of him as the latest plaything, but most never saw the ring. It was their promise to each other that was hidden under his work gloves and the fancy gloves he wore over his metal hand.

He finally went around back, but there was no secret key, no hidden entrance or unlocked window. He knew it was wrong, but as he saw a large rock among the pebbles, Gustave took a deep breath and bashed it on the window. It cracked, it broke, it shattered. the sound of the crashing glass as he took a step back.

Gustave carefully climbed through the window and tried to look through all the spots he could think of — the library, the kitchen, the master bedroom, but nothing. Maybe thinking the man had gotten caught up with a new read or something that had fully taken his interest. But after some debating, Gustave finally went through to the atelier.

For some reason, this room made that pit in his stomach worse cause that meant that Renoir could be either working on a new masterpiece, which wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, or Renoir was in a painting and had gotten stuck.

He gulped, trying to push back all his fears of what he could find beyond the door.

The door wasn't even closed, not even locked. It was ajar as a thick smell of turpentine leaked down the corridor. His heart pounded, fearful of what he might find. He knew he had been told the stories and even witnessed it when Renoir had to go into a painting for something.

The door crept open slowly, and Gustave choked from the smell; the fumes of the chemicals burned the edges of his nose. The sight alone caused tears to well in his eyes.

No, not… no… why… didn't you tell me…

It was dangerous for a painter to go in alone, never mind without someone outside to help you get out.

Gustave saw Renoir, sat upright, stiff as a board in the armchair. He felt his legs become jelly as he tried to walk over. He knew the rules of when a painter is in the painting - don't touch or shake them. The damage could be irreversible as the chroma could be disturbed. He tried to fight it, but he needed some grounding, some semblance that Renoir was real and in front of him.

He knelt next to the chair and took Renoir's hand, the feeling of his wrinkled hand that was almost flaky, not here. That you would be the person away from the turpentine, and they would disappear.

Gustave took a breath. What was he to do? He didn't have painter's abilities, but it's been 2… no 3 weeks since Renoir could have possibly been stuck in the painting and the way his body is already slowly fading. The mask of depleted chroma across the old man's face.

He held his lover's hand, giving it a light squeeze and kissed the matching ring before he let go. he finally faced the painting. The large canvas of golden swirls and blood red splatters moved across the front. He reached his hand out, remembering everything Renoir had told him and leapt…

He awoke on some grass; it was soft, dry. Gustave took everything slowly as his body got used to being on the canvas; it felt heavy and unwelcome. He tried to look around, seeing if this was a painting he had been in before, but with endless forests and greenery. it felt - changed. After getting up, he noticed his clothes had changed, rather than the plain clothing he was used to wearing - the everyday sweater and plain black trousers. Here he was in a whole get-up of brown, layered clothes with a lining of gold and an odd-shaped bag on his back.

He walked, he walked for what felt like hours, and the scenery didn't even change. Maybe this is what this painting was - an endless forest. For the first time in a while, he let out a chuckle. Maybe the whole thing had finally gotten to him, or maybe he was truly insane for jumping headfirst into a canvas. He was a fool.

He didn't have enough time to react when he heard a loud crash behind him. A boom that shook the ground. He already felt the hard ground on his shins as he fell. Maybe if he lay low and hid, whatever that was, he might not be seen if he didn't move.

When he let the dust settle and started to turn from his spot, he was met with a familiar sight.

It was an older man, wearing a black suit with a blazer on his shoulders decorated in golden swirls, like the canvas. Those eyes, those piercing grey eyes locked in on him.

For a second, Gustave breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, love, you scared me…" he started to get up, dusting himself off with a smile. "…why didn't you tell me about heading into a canvas? I could have…"

which was quickly wiped away when he was cut off with the cane under his chin, and those eyes he was looking at never softened.

The words that escaped the man's mouth sent a shiver through him. "Who are you?"

#restave #gustave #renoir dessendre #clair obscur: expedition 33 #writing game #ask game

stargoyle

Big announcement:

Fucking petting hims

drakesfortune67

Summer Shenanigans!!!

Soooo I may have written a small thing for the Gestral Village Summer Event!!! @gestral-village for day 4, sleep, I offer some Restavelan in these happy times!! 🥰🥰🥰 A very sleepy Gustave and his two wonderful partners (Alan and Renoir) are here to spend a day in a nice warm meadow! I hope you all like the fic! Sunny Meadows (and the Perfect Place to Sleep the Day Away)

hear me out restavelan, right? Alan found the engagement rings in Gustave's desk drawer when he was looking for something... Rather than spoil the surprise, he helps Gustave come up with a super cute way to propose to their favorite old man together 🥰

ohhhhh one of my fave trios i think i can write a little something update: it was not a little something!! i hope you enjoy how ive taken the prompt

The bedroom was still a mess from the night before, and as always, Alan was the one in charge of cleaning up the bedroom. There were still clothes strewn about the floor from the previous night, and if picking up after one person was enough, 2 others made their own job. He got to work picking up all the clothes he deemed dirty and threw them into a laundry basket.

By the time most of the clothes were placed into the basket, Alan noticed the lack of his own clothes when he went into his drawer and then noticed how many were on the floor. Gustave had been in the right habit of stealing his shirts. Well, with no clean shorts available to him, he decided to take one out from Gustave's drawer.

Alan placed the basket back at the bottom of the bed and made his way to the drawer. He knew there were a couple of shirts that would fit, maybe a little looser than his normal shirts, but for laundry day, it was to be expected.

He knelt and opened the drawer, seeing the normal arrangement of nerdy graphic shirts with science puns and jokes. He hand-rummaged to find something more befitting of his taste, but he knew he didn't have to be picky. But he stopped in his tracks when he felt something hard, and opening the drawer a little more for a better look, deeper inside. There was a little black box. He closed the drawer slightly and took a glance around the room. He knew he shouldn't be snooping. He should just close the drawer and get on with his day but, like most, his curiosity got the better of him. he saw that the bedroom door was slightly ajar but he new that it would creak ever so gently to alert him if someone came in. so, with his need to know what he was getting into, he reopened the drawer and took out the black box out.

Alan sat just next to the bed, crossed-legged as he took the box and took the dive, opening it up to reveal a simple and small diamond encased in a golden cage.

Gustave… he's going to… oh my…

Alan knew Gustave and Renoir had always been a couple, from the day that they all met at that club downtown, where Gustave was the model for the class, and Renoir was overseeing, aiding his students in their works. He remembers the first feeling of the hand on his shoulder, the nervous breath in his ear and the look across the way as Gustave stared and yet nodded so delicately. You couldn't see the movement, but the words that stayed after class echoed in his head for the rest of class.

Ever since then, they became a triad, always seen with the other or both. Here Alan was, about to witness the two people he loved most in the world, finally becoming one.

He knew what he must do, that he must help and aid in his lover's quest. But he needs to try to get Gustave alone to immediately start planning.

It had been a couple of days, and finally, Alan had Gustave alone. They decided to have a small day out for coffee, in a local cafe, but on a day that Renoir would not be able to visit or interrupt the planning. Alan could feel Gustave's foot bump into his shin a couple of times, being a brat and needing extra attention. Alan tried to hold back, not to think about what could happen when they finally got home, but he was sure to teach him a lesson on a different date. However, now was not the time to have those thoughts, and he placed the half-empty cup of coffee down.

"Gustave, love, I have a question?" Alan asked, trying to find a tone that was calm and not at all overly excited about the prospect of what was to come

Gustave raised an eyebrow, probably hoping his little actions had finally gotten him what he wanted, but still curious about where this conversation was going to lead. "Well… what is it, Mon loup?"

"Well, I can't say im acting upon anything here… but I did find something."

"Oh." Gustave's eyes glistened, probably excited about something that Alan doesn't have his mind on at the moment.

"Well, it's something I want to propose to you…" Alan cracked a small smile

"go on…" Gustave's eyes were full of want, a want to know what Alan was suggesting.

"Well, I don't know if you've married with the idea of…" He tried his best to drop the hints, smiling with the knowledge he had.

Gustave started to look frustrated, "Oh, for God's sake, Alan, just spit it out."

"What? I just wanted your engagement…okay fine," Alan finally cracked and let out a laugh, seeing how easy it was to tease Gustave and the way he looked so cute, annoyed. But at the same time, not getting any of the hints being dropped.

"Alan, I swear to god, just tell me." Gustave finally placed the empty cup of coffee down, and his expression changed from cute, annoyed to seriously wanting to know, Alan could tell with the way the man furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oh, don't like being edged like this… okay, okay, I jest, I may have found the ring, Gustave."

Gustave turned red, not angry or annoyed, but more flustered. "You found the ring? the one in my drawer." "I didn't mean to snoop; a certain someone keeps stealing my shirts, and I needed something to wear."

"I don't think myself nor Renoir would have any complaints about you walking around naked."

Alan bit back; he wanted to say something that would have them both running home to take care of… something, however, this was not the time for it. "Gustave, what im trying to suggest is, let me help."

"I… are you sure?"

Alan leaned forward, taking the man's hands in his own, swiping the back of Gustave's hand with his thumb. "Gustave, I love you, and I love Renoir. I would do anything to make you two happy, as you two have made me the luckiest man in the world. Please, I want to make it special."

Alan's eyes darted down for a second before he looked again at Gustave's face. Tears had welled in the man's eyes. It was contrasted by the smile Gustave had on his face. Alan squeezed his hands and laughed. "So I take it, you accept my help…"

"Absolutely."

Days turned into weeks as they planned, they knew it had to be special, and why not have it in the place where they became a full family.

Alan was able to make an invitation for Renoir to host a special class, a special model would be appearing in town for one night, and the model wanted to have a one-to-one class with Renoir Dessendre.

The older man had been sceptical; he had never heard of this man before, but with his two younger lovers pushing for the event, he finally caved and went.

Alan and Gustave had been scheming something; they were always close, especially on days when Renoir could not give them his full attention. He knew they would spend their days kissing, lying in their shared bed. But recently, they have been practically joined at the hip.

He did think it was strange that they really pushed to host this one-to-one class for a model he had never heard of, but clearly, his lovers were more in the know about the wider world and with the way they pleaded with him, how could he refuse?

The day of the class arrived, he kissed both of them and said his goodbyes, making sure that they had some food ready while he was out.

The studio was still dark when he entered. He couldn't get over how much his sat nav tried to make him go in other directions. He was worried he was going to be late for the session due to the traffic. But when he checked, there was no incident on those roads.

When he placed his bag down on the nearby table and switched on the light, he was met with quite a sight.

It was Gustave, dressed rather nicely in that red shirt, that red shirt he swore was his, and the buttons were open to expose most of the chest, and finally, he had tamed those curls in a half-up style but still had a few loose curls to frame his face. But next to him was Alan, dressed similarly. But he was standing more to the side of the pedestal, holding a bouquet.

Renoir was taken aback; he wasn't expecting anything like this, and his heart, for a moment, stopped. Time slowed as he took it all in. Both his loves, all dressed up in a place special to them. In the place where they officially became a unit.

"mon loup, mon tresor… what… what have you two schemed?"

Alan stepped up and quickly fixed Gustave's shirt collar before handing him… something.

Renoir walked closer to the pedestal and took Gustave's hands. "Actually, Alan helped with the scheming, but I have something, something very important to ask. Renoir's mouth hung open when Gustave moved down to one knee and, from the bouquet, pulled out a small black box.

"Renoir Dessendre, will you make me…" Gustave stopped mid-sentence and looked across to Alan, his hand signalling him to come closer. Alan moved closer, and Gustave rummaged around a shirt pocket and brought out another little black box ".... and Alan Durand, will you make me one of the happiest men on the planet?"

He stood there, starstruck.

"Yes, yes to both of you!"

Alan had been surprised himself, “Yes, naturally yes!”

#gustave #verso dessendre #restavelan #renoir dessendre #clair obscur: expedition 33 #writing game

👀👀👀 Writing game! Can I ask for some gentle Renstave? Maybe Renoir obsessing over Gustave's hair?

What a cute prompt!!! I hope you enjoy my take on Renoir obsessing over this man's curly hair with a full treatment!

Working in the garden had taken its toll; both figures now sat haphazardly on the bench, sticking to the other in the hot summer sun. Their breath was heavy as they finally took their break. The garden had become quite overgrown in the time they had left for various trips, and here they were, trying to fix it all up for when they could all once again enjoy the garden to the fullest.

While they fought the urge, the men started slowly sliding toward each other to the point that the smaller, younger man, using his mechanical arm for a better grip, was practically sitting on the older gentleman's lap. He had a full smile as his other hand wandered through the older gentleman's beard. The way the grey shone in the sun, the feeling of the prickly yet calming sensation, and the nature of the well-taken care of beard.

Gustave got quite comfortable as his hand stroked through the thick beard and eventually found a place amongst Renoir's soft hair, feeling heavy from the day's work they had been through, but the comforting feeling he got from it. He was heavy in his daydream, totally enamoured by the smell of freshly cut grass and the musk of the man in front of it. It wasn't displeasing but earthy, natural. The way Gustave moved in closer, placing a soft kiss on the older man's creased forehead.

Gustave broke out of the daydream when he felt a warmth snake up his clothes. A hand had untucked his shirt and softly caressed his lower back, the feeling of a thumb making little, reassuring circles on his back.

"Mon tresor, are we feeling a little hot and heavy right now?" Renoir smirked, cocking his head, curious at his lover's response.

Gustave chuckled, the puppy eyed expression, the want of an answer. "I wonder how you want me to respond, but I think we should get cleaned up before we talk of further activity."

Renoir let out a deep laugh as he slowly adjusted in his seat, but taking the most care in making sure his lover was comfortable in his lap, his hand still perched on the man's lower back. He took his free hand and twirled some of the loose curls between his fingers. letting them coil around his fingers and watching them bounce back with no effort. he adored the way Gustave Hair, regardless of the weather or humidity, always seemed to bounce back with no resistance.

Well,l mon tresor, shall we head inside?" Renoir leaned in a little, letting himself close the gap between them and placing a small kiss on Gustave's cheek. The hand he was using to play with the loose locks easily slid into place and cupped his face. Gustave's face was slightly pink in colour. "…yes."

"Oh, don't get all shy on me… what if I…." Renoir stopped mid-sentence and found his hand once again back in Gustave's hair, massaging the scalp and feeling the waves of curls come and go, then return to their form. He was amazed every single time.

"What if we…" Gustave repeated the final part of the question, looking ever so curious at what distracted his older lover.

Renoir slowly moved his hand from Gustave's lower back, slowly and yet ever so messily trying to tuck back in the shirt.

The bath was drawn with a mix of rose petals and lavender; the bathtub itself was big enough for both men to relax in as the older man's arms lay on the edges of the tub, his head leaning over the end. Renoir lay feeling the water ease and relax every possible muscle. Whilst Gustave lay on top, the water taking the bulk of his weight, but his bare skin was touching Renoir's thighs. It was rare for the pair of them to have this time together. After travelling for exhibits and shows, when they finally had enough time to do anything, it was a simple breakfast or just cuddling in bed. nothing more intimate than a few touches and caresses with a mix of kisses before lights out.

Renoir moved his head up and got mostly the view of Gustave's head of hair, his damp curls not having the springiness to them, but they still held their structure. He removed his arm from the side of the bath and towards the small side table that had some lotions and potions that were used. Taking the luxurious shampoo and mixing it in his hands, lathering it up before starting the process of massaging it through Gustave's scalp. even when they are in this state, the ease of his fingers rummaging through the waves and watching them hold onto the bubbles. He felt the man sitting on top of him move, no jolting to resistance but relaxing, sinking deeper into his partner.

Renoir carefully made sure to cover all the curls in a thick coating before taking some of the water and removing all the leftover suds, using his other hand to stop any water from rolling down his partner's face. Once again, fascinated by the way that even when wet, the curls slightly spring back into place, but rather than stay at shoulder length, Renoir was enamoured by the way his curls straightened and started to hit further down his back.

By the time Renoir finished pampering his partner, the water had cooled just a little, but the steam in the bathroom was thick and heavy, the mirror still steamed up, and nothing was left to one's imagination what was happening under the water.

#restave #clair obscur: expedition 33 #fanfic #ask game

Thank you @drakesfortune67 for the tag and I hope my answers aren’t too mundane 🤣

Last song: Diet By Mad Tsai - a great song for getting me in the mood for writing more mature content! 🤭

Fave colour: purple - I adore lilac and pale pastels

Currently watching: many… many things… rewatching Teen Wolf as background noise

Currently reading: Red Rising series - Morningstar - I’ve been going back and forth with this book but my lord it has me hooked. I am an audiobook girly but I may reread Song of Dark Tides for some inspiration!!

HOWEVER I did just read Love So Pure and Our Sunny Days

Currently obsession: sorry guys and gals and non-binary pals, I still adore expedition 33 (I promise) but I’m slowly falling back into my BL manwha and boy did I fall back - especially rereading Out of Control/Never Understand/Incorrigible🫶❤️

Currently working on: many projects - I have down secret stuff at the moment but I need to finish my Verstave Mermay fic

Last browser search: name of undisclosed website for my BL fix 👀

Well, how did I do folks

I’m tagging @winter-of-tomorrow @ineffablemossy @anivy-chan

#clair obscur: expedition 33 #verstave #fanfic