#marceee24

[princessfbi]

Buddie prompt: Buck is an Art Historian who gives tours at the museum he works at, one day he slips and hits his head pretty hard. When he is woken up and being treated by firefighter Eddie, Buck in his confusion starts comparing Eddie to the art in the museum. Eddie returns to the museum on his next day off and takes one of Buck's official tours.

The David was back.

Well, Buck was pretty sure his name wasn't David. He was pretty sure he told him his name wasn't David too but to be fair, Buck was swooning from a pretty nasty head injury. Marble stairs did that to you.

But Buck had been lucky enough to see the beauty of Michelangelo's work in person and the hot firefighter he'd woken up to that fateful was the closest Buck had ever seen come into comparison. Shit, Buck was pretty sure his David had Michelangelo's beat. His David with his Degas hair and the Van Gogh hazel eyes with cheekbones that looked like they had been sculpted by Luo Li herself.

His Davis caught his eye from across the gallery as Buck set up the kids. Buck ducked his head with a blush when his David winked at him.

Right. Kids.

Buck loved giving school tours. Kids had the craziest questions that kept Buck on his toes and constantly engaged even when he was having the worst day. But kids were also the ones that caught the details in the paintings. And this was his favorite part of the tour. When he had the kids sit in front of a piece that spoke to them and had them draw on their sketchbooks what they saw.

There was always something of a surprise on which art piece they picked. A cute girl with pigtails zeroing in on battle scene painted in 1682. A boy with a scrape on his face and the shit eating grin to tell the story of how it got there settling in front of one of Degas ballerinas.

It was inspiration at its truest form.

And Buck's inspiration, the one he'd been sketching ever since he'd gotten home from the hospital, was sitting on the bench on the far side of the room.

Once the kids were settled, Buck tried to look cool as he strolled over but he was pretty sure the only reason he didn't trip over air was because His David had stolen it all.

"You're back," Buck said, sounding breathless.

His David shrugged and tilted his face up so that the sun from the skylight could catch those marble cheekbones and starry night hazel eyes.

"Wanted to check up on you," His David said. "See how you're doing."

His David wanted to check up on him? Buck's chest flushed as something warm settled into his chest.

"I'm good," Buck said and realized that wasn't right. "Great. Great thanks!"

His David grinned up at him and Buck swooned for a whole different reason. See, Buck was used to being the forgotten piece in a room full of masterpieces. When you stand next to a genuine Klimt as it sparkled with gold, you get used to not being looked at. But his David was looking at him like he was the one that was a work of art.

Maybe that was why Mona Lisa smiled. Da Vinci knew that she would preen under the attention.

"I'm Eddie by the way," His David-- Eddie-- said. "You were a little out of it last time I told you."

Eddie.

It fit him and made the marble of him a little more lifelike in front of him.

[promptabuddie]

5 times Eddie noticed one of Buck's features (lips,birthmark,hands,scent & eyes) + 1 time Buck get caught staring at one of Eddie's features (ass).

[mforpaul]

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖THANK YOU FOR YOUR BARISI VALENTINE'S POST💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Awww that is so sweet of you to say, it warms my heart ☺ Thank you for reading and supporting!

[gingermalarkey]

Grant kinda falling into a bush for @marceee24

[wulfhalls]

Top 5 places you recommend visiting in Vienna/Austria?

MuseumsQuartier

lots of museums in the immediate area but it’s also great for just hanging out cause it’s really pretty around there !

Schmetterlinghaus

it’s a really beautiful greenhouse with a lot of pretty butterflies in it !

Belvedere

I can’t even describe how beautiful it is there, it’s like a fucking fairytale

Wiener Staatsoper

the state opera is just a really impressive building ?? an architectural marvel

Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien

a stunning (!!!) art museum

[himbowelsh]

Things you said after you kissed me-- Grant/Talbert--

minific minute meme (ACCEPTING)

Chuck places a hand on both sides of his thighs and hovers over him. Floyd’s back is pressed against the bricks behind him. The nape of his neck endures the slightest of scrapes, while he knows his shirt will be stained with red dust in the morning. Common sense tells him to move, but the clear gaze locked on his own tells him he doesn’t really want to. A hand on his shoulder stops him before he can try.

He closes his eyes; and when he opens them, Chuck is closer. He can feel hot breath against his lips and exhales. Dizziness is starting to get to him. He wishes he could blame it on alcohol, or altitude, or one too many cigarettes — but they both know better.

They are in Austria, the war in Europe is over, and celebration is the name of the evening. Floyd will not be allowed to spend this night on his own.

Chuck says something, but he doesn’t hear, doesn’t care. He presses back into his hand.

That’s all the cue Chuck needs.

His lips are warm against his, soft where he expected them to be chapped. They fall into a fluid sort of rhythm; not breathless, not desperate. Chuck’s hands are on his shoulders; he is straddling Floyd’s lap. Floyd holds him in place with both arms around his waist. Their lips are locked together, moving gently, as if they never want to part.

It means nothing and everything all at once. Floyd’s heart is racing fast enough to sprint clear back to Kokomo without him. (He wonders if that would be so bad, to have his heart leave him behind. Would it hurt more, or hurt less? Would Chuck still feel the same against his lips? He cannot say, and doesn’t want to know.)

When they part, Chuck is wide-eyed. Floyd feels breathless.

“Happy V-E Day,” is all he can think to say. Chuck grins, wide enough to light up all of goddamn Europe, and it stops Floyd’s heart for all of a second.

When he leans back in, Chuck is waiting for him. It seems they really are the winners tonight; Floyd lets himself be swallowed up by that thought, and the press of another pair of lips against his own.

[alyseofwonderland]

marceee24 replied to your post “GOT/BOB anon here, sorry it's taking so much of your time, but I'm...”

Webster Iron born??? I would have thought that he was of Highgarden. Lieb, the Salt King is Iron born.

SEEE. I was thinking HighTower actually. They are the noble house that run Old Town. You know. The town with all BOOKS. @gemfyre made the argument that Webster loved the sea too much to be anything but Iron Borne but I am still not feeling it. 

[himbowelsh]

Don't have a specific line but could you do something Winnix/Vampires+ focused on the Vampire law of having to be invited in before entering a house??? Sorry if it's vague.

In regards to my previous request, I just saw that you have a post that deals with Vampires/inviting someone in… sooo yeah… “I-I can’t come in unless you invite me.” + Winnix😊 

spooky scary skeleprompts (NO LONGER ACCEPTING)

A knock on the door sounds, jarring Nix from the almost-slumber he’s been sinking into for the past twenty minutes. Half of it is the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream; the other half is the mundanity of whatever reality show is playing on the television. These housewives are so dull that sleep would almost be a welcome reprieve, just to get away from them.The sound of rapping at his front door puts an end to all that, jarring him awake as effectively as a gunshot near his ear. Not two seconds later, the chime of the doorbell rings out through the house.

Maybe Nix wouldn’t answer, if the nighttime visitor were a little less insistent — or he less bored. Its past midnight on Halloween night, after all (though the holiday is over, technically). He can’t imagine what sort of trick-or-treater would be out this late, and if they were, they’d definitely be more inclined to the former option. Still, as the doorbell’s chime echoes in his ears, he can’t help thinking it over. There’s no reason not to answer the door. It isn’t like he’s doing anything better with his precious nighttime hours, so nothing is stopping him. Why the hell shouldn’t he answer?At best, it’ll be a determined trick-or-treater. At worst, it’ll be a murderer — and if it is, he doubts a locked door will stop them, anyway. He’ll just slam the door in their face if he sees a knife or gun on the other side, and that will be that. If they want him that badly, they can get more creative than ringing the doorbell. (If he’s going to get murdered, he wants to be murdered by someone with flair, damn it.)He opens the door, half hoping to be faced with a clearly demented homicidal maniac. In comparison, the mild looking man on his doorstep could almost be called underwhelming.Almost, but not quite, because he possesses a presence that is all his own. Dressed all in black, a dark jean jacket on over his jeans and t-shirt, the man could almost blend into the night behind him. If his pale skin didn’t prevent that, however, the bright orange of his hair does. He holds himself with a quiet confidence, shoulders relaxed and hands tucked into his pockets. Even with an unassuming expression on his face, he commands attention. There’s no way Nix could miss him on a dark night, even if he tried.The stranger smiles at him, close-lipped and benevolent. “Evening. Sorry to bother you so late.”Nix blinks at him. Maybe he really did nod off, after all. This feels like a dream. “Well, I hope you’re not a trick-or-treater,” he manages to say, and internally cringes at the obvious statement. Instead of seeming put off, however, the stranger just shakes his head.“I’m a bit lacking in the costume department, if I am. And I left my candy bucket at home.”“That’s a relief,” replies Nix, “because I’m all out. Those kids robbed me blind.” It takes a few seconds for his flustered brain to reboot enough for him to remember the obvious question. “Sorry, uhh — can I help you with something?”“If you wouldn’t mind.” The stranger holds himself up a bit taller. “My car broke down up the street, and I’m not sure how to get home from here. I don’t have my phone on me. Would you mind letting me use yours?”“Umm — yeah, sure,” Nix replies, fumbling in his pocket for his cell phone. The stranger clears his throat.“Your house phone, if you’ve got one.”There’s nothing about his tone that sounds different from anything he’s said before — and it’s that, that which makes Nix stop. Until that moment he couldn’t put a finger on why the stranger’s story flowed so smoothly, but now it couldn’t be more obvious. Every word that comes out of his mouth is silky, confident. He is not dripping with smugness, or imposing in a way that would put someone off. He is just assured that his words will have the desired effect. When he asks Nix to use the house phone he is not for a second entertaining the notion  that Nix wouldn’t allow him to.And really, why would he say no? What’s wrong with letting this agreeable stranger using his phone?He’s a stranger, the sensible little voice in the back of his mind empathizes. Nix usually goes through great lengths to suppress this obnoxious voice as much as possible; but never before has it sounded so small, so far away.“You want to come in?” he says dumbly; as much as he wants to say yes, something won’t allow him to.The man shrugs. “I can’t come in unless you invite me. If it’s okay with you.”He knows he shouldn’t. He knows this goes against all rules of logic and safety. He knows he’s doing something that disregards his own welfare, and might even be called crazy.He can’t explain why he opens the door wider, only that it seems like the right thing to do. He doesn’t regret it for a second. There’s no reason to hesitate – not really. “Come in,” he says.Mild smile in place, the stranger crosses over the threshold.“I’m Dick,” he says, and extends a hand. Nix takes it. Almost immediately, the sensation of being electrified courses through his body, and he feels very nerve stand up at once. A gasp escapes him before he can bite it back. Dick’s eyes flash a bright, searing blue.He has no clue what he’s just let into his house, but the sudden certainty descends on Nix that he’s invited trouble in without even realizing it.(For some reason, that doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.)