#I was gonna do a rough sketch and go to bed

[ophelisae]

More daiya rarepair bingo woooooo Prompt: “Characters from rival schools”

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Missing Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: Smut, degradation, minor alcohol consumption, unprotected p in v, NO use of (Y/N)

Summary: You and Daryl distract each other from missing Merle.

Notes: Wanted to try the idea of Daryl thinking he wants super rough sex, but he finds out he doesn't really like it that much when you indulge in it. GIF found from Pinterest from user vallie

Taking a hot shower was something you used to take for granted. But after arriving at the CDC and having the chance to not only clean, but sanitize yourself, you made every second count. You even fucking shaved. 

When you heard Jenner would also be serving dinner, you could've thrown up in excitement.

“C'mon, quit actin’ like a pussy and drink.” 

You rolled your eyes at the redneck's words, but shrugged and waved him forward anyway. He grinned in success and filled a cup with red wine, nearly spilling it on your chest with the way he shoved it towards you.

The shift in the atmosphere the last few hours had been remarkable. Not too long ago you were in the first stages of accepting your possible demise, standing behind Shane and Daryl as they fought to get Rick away from the doors. Now here you sat between Carol and Daryl, drinking some of the best wine you'd ever tasted, enough food on your plate to fill your stomach the way it was meant to be. 

You barely heard Daryl whisper beside you over the happy chatter of your group. “Watch, he's gonna turn all red, Koreans all got an allergy to alcohol.” 

You couldn't help but break into a grin at that, shaking your head in amusement. He looked too excited for you to correct him so you just chuckled, and tried not to fall from your chair when he playfully elbowed you in your side. 

The sight of Lori and Shane in the little library foiled your plans to read before bed. You only watched for a second, it looked like they were arguing, trying to keep their voices down despite their frustration. 

You rolled your eyes and turned on your heels, annoyed you'd have to settle on something in the rec room. 

As soon as you turned the corner to walk down the hall, you bumped into a chest so hard you lost your balance. Their hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and when you heard that teasing southern accent you immediately felt your mood lifting. 

“That wine make you blind? You Korean too?” He snickered as he helped you right yourself. 

It was incredibly refreshing to see Daryl in that light. He was in a great mood, not drunk but buzzed enough to keep a grin on his face. 

“Fucking Shane and Lori's in there.” You grumbled playfully, crossing your arms in exaggerated annoyance. 

“Huh, what're they doin’?” His voice lowered to a nosey whisper and he nudged you back to peek around the corner. He immediately pulled back, bumping into you again, a look of disgust on his face. “Fuckin’ white trash. Actin’ like Rick ain't right down the hall.” 

That had you turning into a nosey busybody and you went to see what he was talking about, but he had already nudged your shoulder in the other direction to the bedroom halls. 

“C'mon, let's go do somethin’.” He didn't wait for an answer as he continued using his body to guide you down the hallway, reminding you of a sheepdog, which amused you to no end. 

“Like what?” You smirked as he shouldered you into one of the rec rooms. There were a few loveseats, bean bag chairs, a long couch and endless shelves of things. Board games, card games, sketch books and those really expensive high quality colored pencils, markers, you name it. You could spend the rest of your life in this room and die happy. 

“Hell, I don't know.” He shrugged and went to look through the shelves. You watched him in the doorway, your lip tightening at the side when you realized he was desperate to take his mind off Merle. Shit, you were too. You missed the fuck out of Merle Dixon. You'd grown extremely close to him, he wordlessly accepted your vulnerability of being the black sheep and Daryl related to it. They treated you like some weird adopted family member that one playfully flirted with and the other jerked off to. 

“Wanna play uno? I'm suspiciously good at it.” You finally shut the door and walked over to him with crossed arms, aware of the way he tensed when you got closer. 

“Uno? The fuck? Hell no.” He scoffed and aggressively flipped through the games on the shelf. “This is like some fucked up retirement center.”

“What'd you expect? An Xbox full of two player games?” You watched as he pretended to read the back of a card game box. 

“Psh. I don't know. Let's go fuck with Glenn -”

You grabbed his wrist before he could rush past you and laughed. “Leave the poor kid alone. He's gonna be so fucking sick tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, I guess. Threw up on my couch.” He muttered, remembering the way he'd had to drag Glenn to the couch in his temporary bedroom. 

“Course he did. You kept pouring wine down the kids' throat.”

You had a few minutes of friendly banter, suggested uno again, he suggested strip poker, you suggested skipping the poker, and soon you were grinding against his knee behind some of the book shelves.

“I want it dirty. Want it raw.” He huffed as he feverishly unbuckled his belt. “F-fuck, you're so hot.”

You grinned and leaned in to bite his bottom lip, earning a delicious whimper from him. You dug your teeth down harder and pulled back, feeling his dick twitch obscenely against your hip. 

“Want it dirty, yeah?” You drawled and kissed down his neck, switching between biting and biting hard. 

“Yeah.” He breathed and fucked his hand, clutching onto your hair with his other. “You think,” he faltered as you bit down on his nipple, his words spilling into various curses and slang you couldn't understand. “Shhh-fuck” His voice cracked in a way that was absolutely fucking adorable to you. “Y’think, you could, on top-”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You made your way back up to his neck, reaching to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but he stopped you. You didn't question it, you just sat him down on one of the loveseats and climbed in his lap. 

You looked over your shoulder at the door, even though it was shut anyone could just walk in, but Daryl grabbed your chin and forced you back against his mouth. 

You fucking loved the way he kissed. It was so hot and sloppy, his tongue diving everywhere in your mouth, licking every spot he could reach. When you pulled back to breathe, the skin around your lips felt wet, just another thing to make your pussy wetter. Daryl Dixon being so messy and dirty drove you insane. 

“I like the way you kiss me,” you slurred, your hands sliding up your pajama shirt to grope your own breasts. “Who would've thought you were such a needy whore.”

“Can you blame me, woman? Shit.” He thrusted up against you as he admired your form over him, your lips parted and your hair in your face, you looked hotter than every single pornstar he'd ever seen. He came harder to you than Sasha Grey. 

You maneuvered out of your pajama pants and slipped back in his lap, sliding your pussy against his throbbing cock. 

“Fuckin’ goddamnit.” He sputtered and grabbed hold of your hips for dear life. He rolled up in sync with you, nearly cumming when he saw the way his head would push through your folds each time your hips slid back. 

It was easier to get him inside you with you on top, you didn't need to worry about him slamming into you like last time. You took your time, enjoying the way he curled his upper lip in frustration, his eyes locked on the way his dick disappeared up inside you. 

“Fuck.” You drew your word out as you finally sat down on him, his dick sticking you like a skewer. 

You opened your eyes when you felt him grabbing your right wrist. He brought it up to his throat with no hesitation, a new boldness filling him that you didn't expect. 

You scoffed and laughed, the sound making his hips jerk roughly up into you. You obliged though, grabbing hold of his thick throat and squeezing. 

The situation you found yourself in was something you could easily get used to. You leaned back, keeping yourself upright with your grip on his neck. You rolled your hips in a way that served you, using Daryl's dick to get off. The way you fucked him was completely foreign to him, he'd never seen anything like this in the tapes he'd steal from Merle. 

You moaned when he bucked into you, and you had to take a moment to steady yourself. You released his neck and grabbed his chin, your thumb slipping between his teeth, holding him like a hooked fish. He looked up at you through his lashes and bit down gently, his hips rolling slower now. 

“You're a fucking mess.” You hissed with a smirk, looking down at your work proudly. Now he was the one who needed to be in a filthy magazine. His cheeks and lips red, his eyes half lidded and dark, his teeth bared and biting on your thumb. He was sweating like crazy and you were impressed he hadn't come yet, must've been the wine. “God I missed your dick.”

You weren't sure how it happened but soon you were pressed against the wall, your thighs wrapped around his back and his dick rearranging your insides. You couldn't moan even if you wanted, he was so rough and fast that all you could do was gasp in each breath, your eyes rolled back and your mouth hanging open. 

His thrusts slowed and he pulled back from biting your neck to nip the side of your jaw, making your eyes roll back to focus. 

“Slap me.”

Your words didn't register to him for a second. He lifted his head and furrowed his brows in confusion, although his rough thrusts didn't even budge. 

“C'mon, you wanted it dirty, didn't you?” You sneered, and a book fell from the shelf next to you when your head thudded back against the wall after a deep thrust.

He went to speak, but he only let out a long breath, and that's when his thrusts started to slow. “The hell you want that for?” 

You were caught off guard by the look on his face. He looked equally confused and almost… insulted? Hurt? 

“Cause it feels really fucking good. Hey, you don't have to, alright?” Your breathing came back under your control when his thrusts stopped altogether. 

You could tell you upset him. You slid your legs from his waist until your toes touched the floor, and his dick slipped out of you. 

“Hey, it's okay, alright?” You reached to touch his chin but he tilted his head away, no longer looking confused, moreso disappointed. 

You bit your bottom lip and thought. He was in no state to make any further moves so you made it for him. You pulled your clothes back on and took him to his bedroom, making sure to close and lock the door. You turned the lights off and laid him down on the bed before climbing on top of him. 

“I just wanna make you feel good, can I do that?” You murmured softly, sitting on his lap and stroking his cheek. 

That seemed to get to him and he gave in, nodding once without meeting your gaze.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” You promised and kissed down his cheek, deciding against being rough with him the way you were before. 

“Never gonna hear me say that.” He snorted and intertwined his fingers in your hair, gentle, something you hadn't experienced with him. It was like a switch was flipped and he was a completely different man. 

Daryl melted under you as you worked him over with soft touches and kisses. You took your bottoms back off and took his dick back out, giving him a few strokes to get him hard again. You wasted no time in slipping him inside you, thankful there was little resistance with how wet you had become. 

You settled down on him, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself, your fingers pinching the buttons on his shirt as a way to ground yourself. His dick sent you to other places. 

You fucked him slow, taking the time to feel and appreciate each time his tip rubbed against your sweet spot. He breathed noisily under you, giving the occasional grunt or quiet whine, his hands resting on your hips. 

Flipping your hair to one side over your shoulder, you leaned down and kissed him. You led this time, just moving your lips against his, slow and deep and without the use of your teeth, no matter how badly you wished to hear him whimper. 

He sat up and wrapped his arms around your back to turn you over, somehow managing to keep his lips on yours the entire time. 

You felt your muscles sigh in relief when he laid you on your back in the soft bed. You let out a soft happy breath when he slid his hands up your sides, content in just stroking your skin. He wasn't fucking you then, it was something different. If you were stupid you'd call it making love. He thrusted deep and slow, his hips moving on their own accord. Each time he plunged back in he'd exhale deeply through his nose, tickling the skin of your upper lip. 

Daryl was the one to break the kiss, he leaned back on his heels to look down at you.

“So damn pretty.” He mumbled, his eyelids struggling to stay open. If he wasn't drunk on the wine he was drunk on you and this new way of having you, a way he never even considered. This was it, he thought, this is how he wanted to have sex for the rest of his life. Swallowing each other whole, touching and caressing every inch of skin. 

His eyelids didn't feel so heavy when he saw you suck in a deep breath. Your eyes closed and you grabbed at your hair and breast, your head lolling to the side, your mouth hanging open, your face all twisted up-

You came hard around him, shuddering and gasping and whimpering as you enjoyed your sweet orgasm. It was so different, so drastically different from the last one he gave you. You didn't feel like you were on fire, clawing at your skin with your throat raw, you felt like you were being slipped into the warm black lake that was Daryl Dixon. 

“Daryl, oh my god Daryl.” Your words slurred in your mouth and he leaned down to kiss you. He wanted to swallow every little noise you made. Wanted to swallow your breaths, wanted to swallow you. 

“Ss-shh-fuck.” He bubbled against your lips as he came, forgetting to pull out again. He didn't give a shit anymore. He moaned then, such a beautiful noise that it nearly shattered your heart. So shameless, he didn't hold back at all, letting you hear all of it, all that you earned from him. 

He ground his hips into you well after you both finished, making sure every last drop of his cum filled you up. He buried his face in your neck and rolled his hips, his rough pubes grinding against your throbbing clit. You'd never come that way before, not without at least a little outside stimulation, the fact he made you cum from penetration alone changed your life for good. 

It was hard to bite back any further words. You moaned softly at the feeling of his dick still dragging against your walls, nudging against you each time in a way that was nearly too much to bear. 

You looked at him with admiration. He looked beautiful. You reached up and ran your hand over his short hair, wiping the sweat from his brows. He looked at you, something he needed great courage to do, and sighed. 

He couldn't think of anything to say. He felt ashamed, embarrassed, he'd been so deeply vulnerable that it physically hurt him. He swore he'd blow his goddamn brains out if you laughed or made fun of him. 

But you didn't, you just smiled up at him with that dangerous look on your face that had his heart racing. It should've relaxed him, but it didn't, it made the muscles in his shoulders tense. 

“Do you want me to leave?” You whispered as you stroked his cheek, fully prepared for him to go back to the same old Daryl Dixon you knew and tolerated. 

“Do whatcha want.” He breathed, finally pulling his soft dick from you. 

“Good. Then I'll stay.” You leaned up on your elbows and kissed his jaw before slipping into the bathroom. 

When you climbed back in bed he was pretending to be asleep. You scoffed quietly in amusement and pulled a thin sheet over the two of you, curling up behind him. You decided that wouldn't suit you so you turned over and wrapped your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face in the back of his neck. 

You kissed the skin there once before pressing your forehead against the same spot, closing your eyes when you felt comfortable. 

Daryl stared at the wall in front of him as he felt your fingers softly fidget with the buttons of his shirt. They soon stilled and your breathing slowed to a point where he could barely hear it anymore. Only then did he close his eyes, and secretly enjoy the way you held him. 

The next morning was awkward when you woke up and saw Glenn still passed out on the couch.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams

[yuvany]

PAINT ME LIKE MONA LISA

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 with an artist!reader

OT7 ENHYPEN x fem!reader . . . CONTENT / WARNING(S) : fluff + est relationship + not proofread . . WORD COUNT : 812 . CHECK MARK !!

( REBLOGS + FEEDBACK APPRECIATED !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

"Hee, don't move." You suddenly warn, your pencil balancing in between your fingers as you hold your palm up. "Please don't tell me a bomb is gonna detonate, babe." he jokes, and you chuckle, the sound of your pencil stratching the paper fills the room. "Are you drawing something?" He asks, and you hum. "Yup, wanna take a guess what i'm drawing?" You try to do this quickly while Heeseung is standing as still as he can. "Not sure. Care to tell me, pretty girl?" Heeseung itches his nose quickly, which goes unnoticed by you. "Obviously Mr.Handsome is my muse today."

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Saw you placing a bowl of fruit on the table, adjusting it and looking at it from all angles. Jay starts getting interested in what you're doing, so he gets closer to you from his hiding spot behind a corner. You hum delighted and return to your seat, but see Jay standing there. "Hello?" You ask with a chuckle. "Hey, sweetness. What's going on here?" Jay asked. "Nothing much, just an art project for school, they want us to do realism." You go on and explain the assignment. "So, like in the movies?" He asks, referring to how most movies use a bowl of fruits. You nod your head, and Jay gives you a kiss on the cheek for good luck.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

Jake walks into your room and sees the painting resting on the floor, the paint still looking moist. It's like the canvas is whispering for him to come closer, because he does, his eyes observing each detail. Without noticing, Jake's finger gets closer to the canvas, brushing against the edge softly. "Aye! Don't touch!" You exclaimed upon entering your room and seeing him hunched on the floor. "sorry babe, but this is absolutely gorgous!" He says, a wide smile presenting itself on his lips. "Thank you, but you gotta be careful, babe." You laugh awkwardly, hunching down beside him to admire your art with him.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

He sees you pull out a sketch book and a pen, his eyes glued to the movement of your wrist. "Are you drawing me?" He asks with a smirk as he poses jokingly. "You wish." You chuckle and turn the block around so that he can get a view of it. Sunghoon takes a while to look over the rough sketch, and you start to wonder if he's actually observing it, or just zoning-out. You raise and eyebrow, and he says, "You know, I am a much better view than a simple window." He glides his arm around your waist and pulls you in. "I'm sure you are." You say, pressing you lips to the corner of his mouth.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

You and him went to an art museum, his hands holding yours while you take your time to watch each exhibition before either taking a picture, which Sunoo knoows you'll use later as reference, or pulling out a small piece of paper form your bag and a pencil as you sketch the art while explaining the history behind the artworks. "That's really interesting." He says, and follows you around while you repeat the pattern of taking a photo, sketching and explaining. "Imagine if they one day put up your art, angel." he says in awe, and you reply, "then I'll tell them that the history of it is my love for you."

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

He sees you curled up in bed with your art block on the bed as you sketch on it lazily while laying down, waiting for inspiration to flow into your head. Jungwon sees you through the door when he walks by, and walks back to make sure of what he saw. Naturally he walks in, catching your attention. You hum at the sight of him and he plops onto the floor after grabbing a pencil from your desk causing yiu to stop drawing and look at him confused. So far, you've only drawn sunflowers and fishes very sloppily. Jungwon sees them and tries to copy the best he could, but let's just say he did his best. "That's a cute one." You giggle, seeing his attempt.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

Your first date with him was an artistic and creative one. He took you to an art cafe and challanged you to a paiting conset, but he underestimated you and drew a nice sunset instead, confident that he'd win the bet easily. "Times up!" He says with a smirk, and you smile brightly and let go off the brush. "Do you wanna go first?" You ask, and Riki shrugs. "Alright, but be prepared to be blown away." You clap the sight of his scenery, and he urges you to show yours. As you turn the canvas to him, his jaw drops and you chuckle. "So what do I win?" you ask after he was done gaping. "How about a kiss?" He asks, and delivers.

[siriussslut]

I was wondering if you could do a regulus x reader smut. Where they're in a relationship and one night they're chilling in his dorm a bit drunk and regulus like sketching and drawing reader and she offers to be anatomy refference which leads to him edging her and sketching her while she's laid out infront of him while he's in her. And then after it's like ON.

this turned into sub!regulus which i wasn’t planning but is so 🤤🤤🤤

warnings: unprotected sex, praise kink, anal fingering, cutie sub regulus

masterlist

you take another swig of the bottle and then toss it back on regulus’ pillow. the two of you are lounging on his bed, drunk and giddy. he’s sketching you in the journal in his lap, glancing at you every few seconds as he draws.

you stick your face over his sketchbook.“how’s it going?”

“well, i’m drawing you, so beautifully.”

“you’re such a dork,” you giggle, glancing down at his page. your eyes stick to the way he drew your cleavage, obviously one of the parts he focused on the most.

“you only ever draw my top half. why don’t you draw a full body picture of me?”

“i need anatomy practice, i’m rusty,” he answers, continuing with his drawing.

your brain is fuzzy from the alcohol, stupid, so you push your tits above the neckline of your top. “draw my tits.”

his head snaps up. he flips to a new page, sketching the soft outline of your breasts.

you sit mostly still, slowly scooting closer and closer, bringing your chest nearer his face.

when he’s finished with his drawing of your breasts, he shows it to you, pressing a kiss atop one as you study it.

“it’s really good, regulus.” you look up at him through your lashes. “maybe i could help you with more anatomy?”

“yeah. why not?” his voice is breathy, a little too high. you remove your top completely, and then slip out of your skirt and your panties, tossing your clothes to the floor.

“you’re so pretty,” he whispers, staring as if he hasn’t seen you hundreds of times before.

you roll your eyes. “draw!”

he flips to a new page and begins his rough sketch, lining up your body parts. you’re sitting on the bed, legs spread wide, your dripping cunt on full display.

you slide one finger inside of yourself, moaning. regulus is now looking at you more than he’s drawing.

“i told you to draw, reg,” you say, breathy.

“can i… please can i touch?”

you nodding, pulling your fingers out.

he runs a finger through your folds, collecting your slick before pushing his pants to the floor. his cock is inside you in seconds.

you push his head back, hands on his throat, feeling his heart race beneath your fingertips. “draw, baby.”

his cock is quivering inside of you as he continues his drawing. you play with your clit, moaning and dripping on his erection.

you can tell how hard he’s resisting to fuck the living daylights out of you.

hours later, you’ve came more times than you can count, and he’s still waiting inside of you, drawing.

“i’m finished!” he suddenly exclaims.

you circle your fingers around your puffy clit. “show me.”

he turns the sketchbook to face you. you gasp. “oh, regulus it’s beautiful.” his cheeks color.

on the page, you’re finger fucking yourself, eyes shut tight, face screwed into a moan. your pussy is glistening wet, dripping on his cock.

you push his sketchbook aside, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. “i have never been more turned on in my life.”

you run your tongue along his face, licking. you want to devour him whole, there is simply too much love and desire inside of you for one person.

you mumble against his slippery jawline. “you’re such a good boy, reggie. i know that was hard for you, and you did such a good job.” you grab his balls as you speak, tugging.

he gasps, cock twitching against your walls. “i love you,” he whispers, looking at you with blown out pupils, eyes foggy with lust.

you kiss his lips, pushing him down to the bed. “i’m gonna treat you so well,” you mumble between kisses and tongue. “you’re gonna come so many times.”

you fuck yourself on his cock, thrusting up and down. you pump lube onto your hand and slide it beneath his ass, grabbing onto a cheek before slipping into his hole.

he screams, arching his back. you fuck him with your hand, sliding in and out to the rhythm of your thrusts on his cock.

his ass clenches around you, cock jerking.

you don’t stop fucking him as he comes, instead grabbing his balls with your free hand, adding more stimulation. he shoots hot ropes of cum inside of you. it drips out onto his dick, thick and creamy.

you slip off of his cock, letting go of his ass. you slide down the length of his bare, sweaty body. he’s lying and panting, completely boneless. you pull his soft cock into your mouth, sucking.

he gasps, but bucks his hips into your face.

you grin around him, ready to make good on your promise.

[a-leg-without-fear]

Entre, Rouge🩸🔥

this is very silly

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 666

Warnings: story is told from Wade's perspective. need i say more?

Phew!

Okay, that last Wolverine didn’t quite work out. Several stab wounds in the shape of adamantium kebabs aside, I just wasn’t a fan of his vibe. The puffy hair, the leather ensemble, and the missing hand? No thank you. I’d like an intact Wolverine with access to a shower and a hairbrush to help repair my universe.

I sat on the log I once shared with the extremely-departed Logan. Lots of blood and guts spilled everywhere, pieces of TVA agents and metal bones strewn about the snow, thick snowflakes falling through the naked trees and onto my illustrious red suit.

Oh, I should probably introduce myself.

The name’s Wilson. 

Wade Wilson. 

Wade Winston Wilson. 

Doctor… Esquire. 

Also known as the ever sexy and permanently alive Deadpool. Sure, I look like the gum-covered underside of a highschool desk, but it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop in my quest to fix my universe and save my friends. Like Lancelot and his Holy Grail, I’m going to find a Logan and shove him into my timeline until he fits. Or do whatever happens in that story.

The little dimension doohickey I nabbed from discount Mr.Darcy sat in my gloved hand. Lots of retro graphics and shiny buttons made it look like a flip phone, but fancier. I was scrolling through universes to try and find my next target.

“420? No, I don’t think I want pothead Logan. 69? Now that’s just too obvious,” I muttered with a laugh while flipping through universes. The numbers scrolled by like etch-a-sketched fruit in a slot machine. Except without the pants-tightening excitement of winning a jackpot.

My yearning for walking through rows of old geezers sitting in their own piss puddles while mindlessly playing the slots was overtaken by a fascination in the universe that filled the screen. Confetti exploded in my head like an edged bottom who’d held out as long as he could.

“Bingo!” I said, jumping up from my spot on the crumbling log. My fabulous boots made a nice crunching sound as I walked through blood-stained snow.

Earth-80085.

The Legiverse.

A universe filled to the brim with horror, trauma, copious sex scenes, and hyperfixations switching faster than Nosferatu fiddling with his light switch. You know the one.

I jammed the “go” button on the doohickey and a huge portal appeared in front of me. Orange, glowey, translucent, door shaped. Kinda looked like jello if you squinted.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” I asked myself, naïvely, “I’ll get burst like a blood-filled water balloon by Leg’s OC of the week? Nah, she wouldn’t do me like that.”

Taking in one last chilly breath of determination, I skipped through the portal.

What I was not expecting to step into was a bedroom.

Pale green curtains blocking out any sunlight, wooden walls with cutesy pictures, cat towers and toys scattered on the carpeted floor. And…

Is that… moaning?

My head whipped in the direction of that delicious sound. Rumpled and soaked sheets, wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it, bed creaking under the rapid movement.

And there, tangled together in the way God definitely didn’t intend, were you and Logan. Him driving into you, toned abs flexing with each thrust and fluffy hair bouncing, with you squirming and moaning beneath him. Logan’s rough hands felt along your lucky hips.

“Damn,” I whispered. Why did you get to have all the fun? Can’t I get a little Lo-Lo action?

I hung my head, disappointed, as I pressed the “leave” button on the doohickey. It wasn’t fair! Readers get to fuck whoever they want, however they want, whenever they want. They even fuck me on a regular basis! And where does that leave poor Deadpool? Either in another fanfiction or taking care of myself the ol’ fashioned way.

Ignoring the growing discomfort in my rather-flattering pants, I stepped back through the stupid doorway to continue my search.

Why are all the good ones fucking, crucified, killing me, or Henry Cavill?

i got drunk and watched the third "night at the museum." this popped in my head while watching hugh be a silly man

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[muddyorbsblr]

braced for impact

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; between 1-2 years into the relationship

Summary: Some haunting memories pop up out of the blue one otherwise peaceful afternoon while you were situated on your favorite seat…your boyfriend's lap.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 717 (issa blurb)

Warnings: 18+ | the start of smutty mango rides at the end; mentions of a potentially verbally abusive past relationship [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: precious reassuring bf Tomathy and overall just horndogs in love

It's been an hour, he's probably tired of carrying your weight he just doesn't wanna say anything because he's too sweet for his own good, your inner voice taunted you, just one of a chorus that were currently bombarding you with reasons why you should get up and out of your current position. Sitting on Tom's lap while you worked on a rough sketch for a set design on a project you were invited to throw your name in the hat for, while he was reading a book, thoroughly distracting you every time you glanced and caught how his deft fingers were flipping the pages with a single hand.

He absentmindedly traced the backs of his fingers up your arm while his eyes scanned the pages, pressing a soft kiss to the bruise he'd sucked onto the back of your shoulder the night before whenever he turned the page. He let out a little sound with every kiss, exhaling and warming the spot.

He's gonna get pins and needles down his leg if you don't get up. That thought had your neck twitching, your mind flooding with memories of previous relationships, and the last time you abruptly sat up from a former partner's lap. The screaming, the unreasonable outburst because you'd "disrupted his focus" and now he'd broken his train of thought.

Would Tom react the same? All because you didn't want him to have to go through those uncomfortable few minutes where it felt like every step he'd take was on a bed of vibrating nails?

His foot's probably falling asleep.

That did it. You prepared yourself for an outburst as you placed your tablet down on the side table, making a motion to stand up from your boyfriend's lap. The second you lifted your butt from his thighs even the slightest bit, his arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you back down to him, a little yelp slipping out of you.

"Do you need to get up, sweetheart?"he asked softly, lightly kissing the back of your neck.

"No…" you sighed. "Just thought maybe you'd want a little break. And maybe your lap back."

Tom paused, his lips hovering over your skin as he tightened his hold on you. "I want no such thing, goddess. I love having you this close to me. That way I don't have to stand and walk to you to kiss you." He lightly grasped your chin and turned your head to face him, softly groaning when his lips met yours in a tender kiss to emphasize his point. "Just like that."

"Aren't you worried about your foot falling asleep? Pins and needles and all that?"

"It takes a long while to get me to cross that bridge, Y/N," he assured you, kissing his way down your neck, lingering when he hit that spot between your neck and shoulder that had you melting in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you in place. "And even if we get there it would be well worth the few moments of discomfort if it means I get to have the woman I love exactly where I want her. Where I always want her."

The tender way he held you had you relaxing against his chest, your boyfriend smiling against your skin while he continued to kiss and nip at that your neck. You tilted your head to grant him more access. "I love you," you said breathily, whimpering his name as he lightly sucked on your skin.

"And I love you," he mumbled into your neck. You didn't even notice that his hand started moving down your body until he nudged at your legs to situate on either side of him, deft and skillful fingers teasing their way up your thighs.

"Sweetie, what're you doing?" Your breathing became shaky, trying and failing to stifle a moan when he started to trace up your slit over your panties.

"Making sure we're as far away from those pesky pins and needles as we can be," he answered you simply, lifting his hips -- and yours -- from the armchair. Your body became acutely aware of every minute movement, electricity shooting through your body in anticipation when you felt him shuffling his sweatpants down his legs. "The most decadent way I know how."

A/N: So…I had a nightmare about a bad situationship back in my yesteryears that inspired this lil piece. 🙃 Also, I have a teeny tiny injury on my foot again, and if this happens again next year istg I've got some sort of April Curse on me 🥴

Some stuff are being written, and hopefully I can get to the point where words are wording more again…preferably before I end my lil vacation and I have to start job hunting again 🫡

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[catfern]

cowboy!ellie headcanons

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

music: roses are falling - orville peck

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fingering (briefly), drunk sex-ish, guns??, yearning and just sappy shit mainly im in a vulnerable state

an: this is shit brainrot bc i've played too much rdr2 and i want ellie to let me ride her cowgirl style. this took me for-fucking-ever because i got acrylics and dropped my wpm from 108 to 67. also if i put out a poll asking what fic to post next would people vote

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✷ cowboy!ellie having the most pornographic, velvet-laced southern accent known to man. drawling out words in a whisper, that reassured wit sitting in her throat with a lopsided smirk. she’s such a tease, knowing how it gets to you, that ‘c’mon, sweetheart, you gonna make me wait f’you?’ after she trots ahead, glancing back at you under the wide brim of her hat. please, trying to make eye contact with ellie after a long day of riding (ifykyk), seeing just a glance of the veins in her neck, beads of sweat sitting in the little crevices as she leans down to her saddle bag. god, her hands!! and she looks at you, that knowing impatience and ‘okay there, darlin’?, and you can’t look at her, your head swimming and drowning in the molasses of her voice and too focused on the up, down, up, down, up trot of your horse.

✷ setting up camp for the night, bed mats a good distance away from each other, and you wake up, fire dying, moon high, and ellie is still awake, hands covered in dirt and ash and rust from her old revolver that she cleans too occasionally. the gentle scratch of charcoal on parchment, her body hunched over, protective like a creature, and when you call out to her, she TOSSES her journal into the dirt like it burned to touch. if the moon wasn’t so faint, you’d see the uncharacteristic blush fleeting across her cheeks, but too quickly, she tells you to go back to sleep, she’s just staying up to take care of the fire. you listen in a haze, and ellie tears out the five, maybe 6 pages?? of rough sketches, harsh lines etching out your body, your smile, your eyes, and stamps them into the cooling embers of the campfire.

✷ if we’re talking historically accurate cowboys, ellie is definitely the type to believe in dinosaurs!! it’s this new, fresh, science fad and everybody laughs at her for it, cause omg?? giant lizards?? nah!! but ellie is so adamant, reading every paper and pamphlet on the subject that she can get her hands on (assuming she can even read lets be so real), and she’ll tell you about it! small, reluctant meanders from more important topics, at first, but you’re kind and you listen to words either of you barely understand, and sure it’s a little bit boring, but she’s happy, and for some reason she makes it incredibly dynamic, crash coursing you on lizards that evolved (a buzz word in all her pamphlets) into BIGGER lizards.

✷ cowboy!ellie, the horse whisperer. she doesn’t teach you to ride, but you’ve never had a way with horses, cantankerous and rough, so you need a lil bit of assistance. ellie will take the lead, letting you rock behind her on your horse, your arms draped around her like common occurrence, and she’ll turn, ‘see? be gentle, she’ll listen. you’re a team, y’know?’

✷ ‘she just likes you more than me.’

✷ her laugh is boisterous, loud, it sounds like it belongs amongst the hills and caverns, like wind against rocks, ‘no one likes me more than you, flower.’

✷ one day, you’re just passing through a small town, nothing more than a few shops and scattered farm houses, and ellie spies an outlaw poster, poorly tacked to the community bulletin board. it’s her, badly sketched, sure. her chin is way too big, nose a bit askew, but it’s definitely her. and you laugh as she presses you frantically, ‘i don’t really look like this? do i?’ and it’s got some ridiculous nickname that definitely over-inflates her ego, ‘ellie 'longshot’ williams (no one has called her that ever) that she’ll parade it around like a medal

✷ ‘aw, love, do you need some help shootin’? don’t call me long shot for nothin’.’

✷ you’d get a bit vulgar, a bit defensive because, yeah, maybe ellie is actually good at shooting, and you could benefit from her teaching. but that fucking nickname, lording over your head with that lilt in her voice, and the childish, goading smile, you’d tell her to shove it somewhere the sun don’t shine and just pray luck guides your bullet.

✷ your now-so-serious scowl eats at her, so ellie has to swallow her boyish pride and shut up, simply falling behind you. gently tapping your shin with her boot to get you to adjust your stance, her hands stretching out over yours to feel out the barrel of the foreign pistol. they’re rough, calloused, unmade for this sort of gentle gesture, but you welcome the heat that they give. with a soft push and pull, like a tide she moves your fingers, your hands, to hold the gun well. her voice is a whisper as she instructs, ‘don’t hold it so loosely. stronger grip helps aim.’ 

✷ she’s shaking in her boots. a moment like this, tender, with you is scarcely shared. the closeness burns her chest as she feels you breathe against her, skittish but assured, ellie’s finger snaking around yours to settle on the trigger. you go to fire, and the recoil sends you backwards in a shock, ellie having to move her hands from the gun to your waist to keep you steady. you laugh something coarse, leaning back into her without a thought. adrenaline intimacy.

✷ ‘okay, maybe y’need a few more lessons before you get it right.’ it’s a selfish thought, but it cements ellie in that moment, with you just in her reach, and her revolver. she’d clean it for you.

✷ cowboy!ellie doing stupid shit, like taking longer detours to show you the scenery, the stretching fields and great mountain waterfalls, stopping to pick wildflowers (she’s a sap), or taking the extra care to saddle up your horse for you, securing the girth and not letting you touch it because ‘i don’t need you slippin’ on me.’ she takes care of you, out on the road, it’s not an official thing, but you’re off limits.

✷ ellie is kind, but sex with her isn’t. the first time, she’s terribly drunk, playing away her night in a saloon, at a poker table (she’s losing), and you’re sat at the bar, wearing that, and it’s violently throwing her off her game, so she decides to make it known that your presence is an interruption. dragging you upstairs, she’s unkind. ‘you’re not helping my luck, looking like that.’

✷ ‘how do you need me, then?’

✷ she tastes like cigarette smoke, and bourbon, and she smells like the sleek of rain on dry dirt, and feeling her all over you is intoxicating, rough. she’s quick, her lips aren’t soft but rather, a grating possession on your skin, a feeling that swallows you, melts you down in the heat of her hands. she swears, a lot, it sounds like disbelief but really, it’s a bribe. a prayer. ‘dear god, give me this, let me have this, and i will be devout.’ it’s primal, something uncontrollable. drunk, it’s worse. she loses herself in the haze, becomes complete disregard, her fingers inside you without hearing you, just feeling you. lost in you and she keeps pounding into you simply because she’s enraptured by the feeling of you clenching around her.

[hyunnieshannie]

SKZ: In Bed

A shit show of a conversation was started in my writers club discord (Feel free to join!) with @maeleelee & @d4vekat-otp so here are my unhinged thoughts about how SKZ are in bed:

CHAN: SUB / SWITCH (SUB LEANING)

-He has so much control right now, even if it may not seem like it sometimes he just needs someone else to take control.

-Needs to be loved on and pampered, he's tired of taking care of his 7 kids all day

-Would love just being told what to do

-Seriously just tell him what to do, let him turn his brain off for once.

-SO SO SO in love with a calm, sweet, after care ritual:

- cuddling,

- kisses,

-a bath,

-snackies,

-hot chocolate,

- just be gentle with him after <3

MINHO: SOFT DOM

-Everyone imagines Lino as a hard dom. me included. based on his looks and demeanor but what if we based it off how he looks at Jisung?

-Suddenly the man is softer than SoonDoonDori

-Consent is sexy KING: asks if you're okay with everything he does

-SO SO SO passionate

-Gentle unless asked not to be

-Will bring the cats in after sex to let you cuddle up to them because he loves seeing his four babies all together.

-"want me to make you a snack?"

-SO MANY KISSES

-TIGHT cuddles, man will literally NOT let you go

-Would check in to make sure you're not hurt anywhere if he got 'too rough'

-Gives you his hoodie and sweats to sleep in

-HELPS YOU change into everything because "I'm changing the saying from No one helps you once you're fucked." (he's a lil dumb sometimes, he's doing his best okay?)

CHANGBIN: SWITCH (Depending on the day)

-Loves a good rough fuck

-but GOD WOULD HE LOVE being taken care of.

-Either manhandles you with his thicc muscles

- or pouts for you to be gentle with him

-IMMACULATE aftercare (HAVE YOU SEEN HOW SWEET HE IS WITH HIS MOM AND SISTER? HE WAS RAISED RIGHT AND KNOWS HOW TO TREAT A WOMAN)

-Massages!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Bubble Baths <3

-Would CARRY you to the bath <3 (Even if you can still walk. he WILL carry you)

-HE PREPARES!!! Whether he assumes he's gonna get some, or not, hes ALWAYS prepared for what you'll need after just in case! (Like water and snacks, or advil) (he do get a little sleepy after sex please cuddle him)

-PRAISES THE FUCK OUT OF HIS PARTNER 100% SO SO SWEET. "You're doing so good," "You take me so well" JKBDSFJKBVSFKJBGSKJDFVBG

HYUNJIN: SERVICE TOP / SOFT DOM

-Soft boy, Shy when people compliment his looks BUT

-Behind closed doors, he KNOWS. He KNOWS hes hot. and uses it against you

-He's a slut (lovingly)

-LOVES roleplay LOVES being a character so he can forget he was shy earlier about receiving a compliment

-PRAISES YOU "you're so perfect." | "More beautiful than any art piece in any museum" | "Made just for me,"

-SENSUAL ASF

-He wants to be in control, but doesn't want to hurt you ever, only wants to make you feel good

-Will sketch you naked while you look fucked out (paint me like one of your french girls)

-The Most EXTREME Aftercare (it's such a long process)

-Will not let you lift a single finger, while he massages you, helps you bathe, puts lotion on you, gives you a face mask, changes you, and ultimately puts you to bed

-KISSES ALL OVER YOUR FACE before you fall asleep <3

JISUNG: SOFT DOM

-STOP DOING HANJI WRONG AND CALLING HIM BITCHLESS, WHO ARE WE KIDDING? HES NOT BITCHLESS AND WE ALL KNOW IT

-BIAS WRECKS EVERYONE EVERY SINGLE CB? EVEN IF JISUNG ISN'T YOUR BIAS... HE'S STILL YOUR BIAS.

-JISUNG MAY BE SHY BUT HE KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING.

-LOVES EDGING. (Ignores us on bubble forever, knows we want him, knows EXACTLY when to drop content, and leave us begging him for more)

-HEAD GAME STRONG. PROVE ME WRONG RN.

-LOVES watching you beg for him. "I don't think you deserve it though-"

-WHORE (lovingly)

-WOULD SEXT YOU WHILE EITHER ONE OF YOU IS IN AN IMPORTANT MEETING "How bad do you want me right now?"

-AFTER CARE INCLUDES CUDDLES AND ANIME

-LIKE SO MUCH ANIME (FOKN WEEB)

-Showers TOGETHER. you're not allowed to go in there alone wtf??

FELIX: HARD DOM. / BRAT TAMER

-WHY EVERYONE THINK HES A SUB??

-HATES being seen as a pretty, fragile, princess

-NEEDS to take out his frustrations but what BETTER way than to show his partner whos in charge (Spoiler: It's Him.)

-The type to fuck you against the wall

-Seriously. He wants to pick you up and fuck you against any flat surface he can find- especially- when you piss him off.

-Leaves SO MANY marks on you. "Everyone needs to know who you belong to."

-LOVES face fucking. L O V E S it

-PRAISES YOU (if you deserve it) "Just like that, you're doing so good"

-IF YOU DONT DESERVE IT THO: "Stupid little whore, forgot whos in charge again huh?" (NOT HAPPY. STILL SO HOT OF HIM THO)

-SWEET BABY DURING AFTERCARE, WHOLE 180 CHANGE, "Baby what do you need?" "are you ok my love?" "Thank you for letting me get my anger out..." SO SO SO SO SO SOFT

SEUNGMIN: HARD DOM. FULL ON SADIST.

-Man isn't just a dom. He's a mother fucking SADIST

-Teases you until you cry

-LOVES making you angry/frustrated

-LOVES watching you fight back (like the brat you are)

-LOVES it more to see you lose the fight (Source: Trust me bro)

-TOYS TOYS TOYS.

-LOVES Using toys to overstimulate you.

-THE TYPE TO DO GUIDED MASTRUBATION

-LOVES the power he has over you!!!!!!!!!

-DENIAL. DENIAL. DENIAL. THIS IS BEYOND EDGING. ONE WRONG MOVE AND HE WILL DENY YOU AT LEAST 7 TIMES.

-JEALOUS FUCKING. "so you wanna act up in front of other guys? REMEMBER who fucking OWNS you."

-AFTERCARE IS SO NICE WITH HIM THO. HES A TOTAL PUPPY. Following you around to make sure you're okay, like a dog with its tail between its legs he needs lots of attention, cuddles and kisses. He loves you SO Much, he can't help his jealousy issues...

JEONGIN: HARD DOM

-DOESNT want to be Baby bread. HES SAID IT. (he wants to be Daddy Toast fr)

-Hes SO innocent looking? RED FLAG. HES 100% A WHORE (Lovingly)

-LOVES using his hands and his tongue

-Will over stimulate you with them before he even THINKS of fucking you

-When he DOES fuck you, the grip he has on your body will leave bruises on you for a week

-WOULD MARK YOU SO MUCH

-Wants YOU to mark him in forms of hickeys or scratches

-CHOKING - HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HANDS???????????? (Chanting: BREATH PLAY, BREATH PLAY, BREATH PLAY yeah. Im part of the breath play cult...)

-ALL THE KINKS, HES A FUCKING F R E A K "You see me as a baby? I'm about to prove you wrong little fox."

-WANTS YOU TO WEAR A FUCKING COLLAR WITH HIS NAME ON THE TAG. "You're mine. don't fucking forget it."

-SUCH A BABY DURING AFTERCARE. WANTS CUDDLES, WOULD NUZZLE INTO YOU, BABY FOX IS VERY SHY AFTER LETTING OUT HIS DOM SIDE ON YOU.

Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup

[hihomeghere]

Baptized by Fire : Chapter two

Summary : A view into Charles and Arthur's relationship before you arrived at the cabin. You start to settle in to the cabin, still wary of the two men after eavesdropping on their conversation the previous night. Both take time to teach you a new skill. Your past rears it's ugly head, and you aren't sure what to do with all these feelings. Word count : 4.5k Warnings/Tags : Mentions of death, mentions of abuse, nudity, allusions to sex, skinning animals for meat, reader has female genitalia and is referred to as ‘she’, cursing, Arthur had TB but survived and now has chronic issues because of it, mention of hanging, barely there gore, Charles Smith x Arthur Morgan, let me know if I missed any

Previous/Next

It wasn’t the normal glaring sunlight that woke Charles up that morning as he blinked awake. It was the howling of the wind, damn near rattling the windows. The storm was only getting worse, the snow piling up outside their small cabin. He let out a small groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Arthur was curled around him, his arm wrapped lazily around Charles waist. His lips parted like two rose petals as a snore left them. He chuckled softly, partaking in his favorite pastime, studying Arthur. How his skin was weathered by the sun, his cheeks lightly dusted with freckles. How hair never grew over his scar on his chin. Trailing his eyes over the crooked bridge of his nose, never set right after being broken more times than he wanted to know.

Charles’ heart warmed in his chest, caught aflame by the sight of his lover. He ran his thumb over Arthur’s lip, smirking as his brows furrowed in his sleep. Arthur let out a small groan of protest as he turned his face into Charles’ chest. 

“C’mon now.” Charles said, chuckling softly, “We ought to get up.”

“Who says?” Arthur mumbled, his words muffled against Charles’ bare chest

“I do.” He laughed

“When’d you become such a hard ass.” Arthur teased, smirking as his bright blue eyes found Charles.

“When did I meet you again?” He asked, pretending to ponder the question. Arthur rolled his eyes, moving his hand from Charles' waist up his chest. Lightly brushing against his nipple. “You start that again and we’re never gonna leave this damn bed.” He warned.

“That’d be quite a shame.” Arthur smirked, leaning in to nip at Charles’ earlobe. “Why don’t you ride me this morning, partner.” He hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses down Charles’ throat. 

A pleased hum rumbled through Charles' chest, his large hands gripping Arthur’s bare waist. He could feel Arthur’s growing erection, hot and heavy against his thigh. The soft velvety skin seeking friction against his body. 

“Damn it,” He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow. “Later.” He growled, grabbing a handful of Arthur’s ass. Arthur’s brows pinched together in a small wince, something Charles picked up on immediately. “Was I too rough last night?” He asked, his playful tone replaced by concern as his brows pinched together. 

“You know I liked it.” Arthur grinned, “Just sore s’all.” He shrugged, kissing Charles' collarbone. 

“Arthur-“

“Oh don’t you ‘Arthur’ me.” He huffed, rolling his eyes, “I ain’t some damn porcelain doll.”

“I know you aren’t, you stubborn fool.” Charles said, rolling his eyes, “Doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to be concerned about! I’m fine, I swear it!” Arthur said, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Now get going big fella or we won’t get nothin’ done today.” Arthur said, shooing him out of bed. 

-

“I shouldn’t be gone long.” Charles said as he put on his gloves, feeling Arthur’s eyes.

“I’ll be here.” Arthur sighed. If his gruff voice wasn’t an indication of his displeasure of being left, yet again, the not so subtle pout of his definitely was. His journal sat open on his lap, his fingertips darkened by the charcoal as he sketched away at the paper. Charles nodded, pulling his hat down as he braced himself for the cutting wind. Opening up the door, his hand shielded his eyes as he trudged through the snow. With each step he sank further into the white powder, his legs already aching. The wind biting at his cheeks and nose as he made his way to the barn. 

His stomach dropped as he saw the open door. He picked up his feet, rushing inside the barn. He counted the cattle even though he knew that damn bull was long gone.

In his haste to sink into Arthur’s body last night he must not have shut the barn door all the way. They had been having trouble with this damn beast ever since they purchased him. Constantly plowing through fences and running off. Arthur had got so damn angry last time he had threatened to kill the bastard.

Charles made sure the rest of the cows were there and fed before he trekked back to the house. 

“Damn bull got out again.” Charles huffed as he closed the door to the main cabin. The heat from the cabin burned his face and hands.

“You shittin’ me?” Arthur asked, letting out a frustrated huff. 

“Wish I was.” Charles said, shaking his head.

“You gonna go after ‘im?” Arthur asked, getting to his feet, “Want me to ride with ya?” Charles could tell how bad he was itching to get out of the cabin. Arthur couldn’t stand to be cooped up for too long, something ingrained in him with how often the gang used to move around. 

Although Charles had put his foot down about Arthur going out when the weather got bad. Last time Arthur had ventured out to tend to the livestock he came down with something. Not as bad as the tuberculosis, but it scared Charles all the same. 

He was holed up in bed for a week, a fever burning through him and coughing up a lung. By the time his fever broke, Arthur had soaked all the sheets they owned with his sweat.

He didn’t give a damn how much he pouted, there was no way Arthur was going out in this storm.

“Don’t know if it’s worth it.” He said crossing his arms, “Only thing that damn animal has brought us is a headache.” He ran his hand through his hair. 

“We could always just butcher him, find that little bastard and make a new rug.” He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Suppose we could.” Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m gonna head out, see if I can pick up his tracks.”

“Take Buell, poor boy could use the exercise.” Arthur called over his shoulder. Charles nodded, walking over to Arthur. He bent down, cupping his cheek before pressing his lips against his. It didn’t matter how many times they collided like this. Charles always managed to steal his breath away, leaving him gasping for more. He wondered if Charles was his ruin and cure all at the same time. 

Arthur smirked as he pulled away, “I haven’t forgotten about your promise from this morning.” He said, gently tugging at his hair.

“I won’t be long.” Charles promised, his own smirk stretching across his face.

He had picked up somewhat of a trail. He supposed that that damn bull had gotten out shortly after he and Arthur went to bed. The snow had covered most of the tracks, and what it didn’t, the wind washed away. 

Buell snorted, pawing at the powdered snow as Charles urged him forward. 

“C’mon boy.” He said softly, patting the steeds' thick neck. His hands ached in his gloves, but at least he hadn’t lost feeling in them yet. He narrowed his gaze, his eyes watering as he looked across the frozen countryside. 

He caught sight of something, something much smaller than a bull. His heart leapt into his throat as the small being collapsed in the snow. He dug his heels into Buell’s side, the horse instantly picking up speed as they raced towards whoever was stupid enough to be walking around in a blizzard.

He jumped off, gathering the person in his arms. A woman, whose clothes were covered in icicles. Her eyelashes nearly frozen together with tears. 

He tore his coat off, a shiver running down his spine as he wrapped it around her. If he didn’t get her out of this cold, and fast, she’d die. 

He slung her over his shoulder as he mounted Buell. Maneuvering her into a bridal style carry as he rode back towards the cabin. 

“You find ‘im?” Arthur asked, not raising his head from his journal as the cabin door swung open. Still not over getting left behind, again.

“Not exactly.” Charles huffed, rushing towards the roaring fire. He laid the woman down on the rug, biting the fingers of his glove as he tore them off.

“Jesus Charles!” Arthur exclaimed, his journal clattering to the floor as he stood. 

“Help me get her clothes off.” Charles ordered, working the buttons of her blouse through the eyelets. 

“Oh dammit.” He sighed, frozen as he stared at the woman.

“You want a dead body on our hands!” Charles barked, shooting Arthur a glare. “Help me god dammit.” Arthur sank to his knees, pulling the woman’s frozen skirt off her body. 

“Furs, she needs furs.” He mumbled, stumbling to his feet as he raced to their bedroom. Charles’ heart sank as he bared her upper body. 

“Shit.” He mumbled, tracing his finger against the dark purple mark.

“Oh hell.” Arthur said as he returned, his eyes falling on the young woman. “Now who would…” He clenched his jaw, rushing over to the woman. Wrapping her in the furs and blankets, trying to avoid glancing at her naked body.

“Poor girl.” Charles sighed, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair. 

Arthur cursed under his breath, rubbing a hand over his chin. 

“I’m guessin’ you didn’t find the bull.”

“You’d be right.”

-

You ran the brush through your hair, knowing you couldn’t hide away in your room all day. Although you had no idea how you were supposed to face Arthur and Charles. Not after what you had heard last night. 

The two men were killers…but so were you. They didn’t know you knew, and they didn’t know about your sins.

But if they were bad men, why did they treat you, a vulnerable woman, with so much care? Why did they respect you and your anatomy when they could have taken advantage of you time after time?

It didn’t matter, you would just ride it out until the snow melted. You would just have to try and keep your distance. Although that seemed impossible, especially when there was nowhere to escape from them other than this room. And it didn’t help that you were completely engulfed by Charles' scent. If only you had some other clothes to wear.

You cinched the belt tighter around your waist, cuffing the pants at your ankles. It would have to do for now.

You opened the door, feeling like an absolute fool as you stepped into the main room. 

“Morning sleeping beauty.” Charles chuckled, his lip twitching upwards as he glanced over at you. 

“Funny.” You said, heat flooding your cheeks as you looked down. 

“Don’t tease the poor girl Charles.” Arthur said with a small smile, one of the first ones that actually seemed genuine from him.

What had happened between last night and this morning? 

“So, you still wanna learn to read?” Arthur asked, setting his journal to the side. 

Right! You had almost forgotten.

“Yes.” You nodded, unable to stop the grin that spread across your lips. Your worries melting like warm butter the longer you were around them.

“Well, first thing you gotta learn is the alphabet, all the letters.” He said, leaning against the table, his hand resting on his hip.

“You two have fun.” Charles chuckled, shaking his head as he left to tend to the animals.

“Now, there are twenty six letters.” Arthur said, turning your attention to the paper spread out on the table. “I’ve put them all in order.”

“There’s an order?” You asked, looking up from the papers.

“Yeah, course there’s an order.”

“But why?”

“Well cause-“ He paused, his brows furrowed as he looked down, “cause that’s just the way it is. Now it starts with the letter a.”

-

“Alright, which one is b?” Arthur asked, leaning forward as he quizzed you. Your eyes moved over the letters until you found it, tapping it with your finger. “Good! Now point to the letter r.”

You smiled at his praise, pointing to ‘r’. “Well ain’t you quick.” He chuckled, shaking his head, “God, it took almost a week for Dutch to teach me.”

“Was he your teacher?” You asked, your elbows resting on the table as you leaned forward. He faltered, his shoulders tensing before he nodded. 

“Sort of.” He said, clearing his throat, “Guess I was probably about ten years younger than you. Too bullheaded to actually pay attention to anything he had to say.” His voice softened, an almost melancholy sense to it. “You’ll probably be reading in another week or so.” He said.

“You think so?” You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your tone.

“Sure.” He nodded, “You’re a natural.” You beamed looking up into his eyes. He stared back, an expression you couldn’t quite place on his face.

Charles opened the door, returning from doing the chores. Arthur looked away, ending watever moment the two of you had.

“How was class today Mr. Morgan?” Charles teased as he took off his winter coat.

“Well she’s a hell of a lot smarter than me, that’s for sure.” He said giving you a small smile as he shook his head.

“I have a good teacher.” You smiled, looking from Arthur to Charles.

“Yeah?” Charles asked, his own smile spreading across his lips. “We got a scholar on our hands, Arthur.” Heat blooms in your cheeks as you bashfully lower your head. 

“Did ya make sure the barn door was closed?” Arthur teased, smirking up at Charles. 

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one day.” Charles chides, his words lacking any edge as he rolled his eyes. “Do you think you’re too tired for a different kind of lesson?” Charles asked, turning his attention to you.

“What kind?” You asked, straightening your back.

“Picked up a rabbit's tracks back near the barn, you ever skinned an animal?” He asked, a glint in his eye. You shook your head, your stomach flip-flopping.

“Oh come on girl, it ain’t that bad.” Arthur chuckled, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he passed you. Arthur’s touch did little to ease your nerves. “You gonna go get it?” Arthur said, crossing his arms as he leaned up against the table. Trying, and failing, to act nonchalant.

“Was thinking about it.” Charles hummed, “Would you go with me?” He asked, taking Arthur’s bait.

“Always.” Arthur grinned, grabbing his blue coat off the hook. “We’ll be back.” He nodded to you before the two of them headed out the door. 

It was the first time you had been left alone in their home. They trusted you enough to leave you alone in their home. You bit your lip, trying to stop your giddy smile from spreading. You piled up the papers, in alphabetical order, before setting them off to the side. 

-

You had successfully tidied up the cabin by the time they came back. Laughing as they opened the door, their cheeks flushed from the cold.

Arthur tossed the rabbit carcass onto the table, shrugging off his coat. 

The thought of learning a new… skill. Had been exciting at first, but now that the dead animal was in front of you, the only thing you wanted to do was cringe. 

“Oh it ain’t that bad.” Arthur chuckled, walking past you. In a better mood than you had seen him in all week. Spending an hour or two chasing down a small animal in the freezing cold would have had the opposite effect on you.

Charles sat down across from you, “It really isn’t that bad.” He smiled, handing you a hunting knife. You hesitantly took it, staring down at the unmoving animal. 

“Is this a skill I really need?” You asked, looking back up at Charles. 

“You don’t have to.” He said with a small shrug. 

“No- no I need to.” You said, shaking your head. You didn’t want to let either of them down, “What do I do first?” 

“Pinch the hide and make a cut near the base of its neck.” He instructed, nodding towards the rabbit. You swallowed thickly, pinching the back of the rabbits back. You sliced through its skin, grimacing. 

“Now what?” You asked, swallowing thickly as you looked down at the unmoving rabbit. 

“You’ll want to tear the opening- no not with the knife.”

“Well what else would I tear it open with then?” You huffed, setting the knife down on the table. Your breath coming quicker, your chest pounding against your ribcage.

“He means with your fingers.” Arthur called over his shoulders, a dry cough leaving his lips.

“You’re joking!“ You gasped, gawking at Charles. He barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Come on now sweetheart it isn’t that bad.” He grinned, quirking his brow. “Just put your fingers in the cut and pull.”

“And pull?” You gawked, “No- no, no, no, no.” Your legs shaky as you stood from the table, the lump in your throat growing “No I can’t.” You said, shaking your head as you wiped your hands off on your- Arthur’s- trousers.

Both the men burst out laughing, their voices ringing in your ears as the walls of the cabin closed in on you. Your breath started coming fast, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked down at the rabbit.

The memory of your fathers unblinking gaze forced itself to the front of your mind as you stared into the animal's cold dead eyes.

You rushed out of the cabin, bile moving up your throat as you pushed the door open. You swallowed hard, the cold air cooling your flushed cheeks. You leaned against one of the wooden beams of the porch. Digging your nails into your palms, the dull pain grounding you as your mind seemed to drift farther and farther away. 

Your father wasn’t a man to have many friends, who would want to be around a man like him? Would anyone have stopped by the house yet? You rarely got any visitors and not with weather like this. 

On one hand you wanted his body to be found, mainly so you wouldn’t have to think about the alternative. His body decomposing into the wooden floor of the kitchen. On the other hand, who would they suspect for his murder? A gunshot to the chest at that close of range could hardly be called an accident. Certainly not if you confessed to being the one who pulled the trigger. You could pin it on a robbery gone wrong. You ran for your life and got lost out in the woods, unable to return until the snow melted. It wasn’t entirely false. But if they didn’t believe you, you’d be hung for sure. Were a few moments of freedom worth your life? Although, how much of a life was it? You had experienced more living in the past week than you had in years. You had moments of actual joy, happiness. Although that thought only made you feel more conflicted, your stomach sinking like a rock.

“Hey.” Charles' voice cut through your constant flow of thought. The door of the cabin shut behind him. “Are you alright?” He asked, hesitantly stepping towards you, reminiscent of how he had approached you the first time you had met. 

“Fine.” You nodded, looking out at the snowy landscape. He sighed, walking up beside you.

“I can tell that you’re not ‘fine’.” You could see he was looking at you from the corner of your eye. 

“I’ll be fine.” You amended your statement, sparing him a glance. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, his eyes searching yours for something you didn’t want to give up.

“I’m sorry about the rabbit.” He said, his voice low and gentle. “I sprung it on you, that was my fault.”

“It’s not-“ You groaned, feeling tears prick your eyes as you covered your face with your aching hands. He kept quiet, letting the two of you sit in silence while you gathered your thoughts. He didn’t rush you, he waited patiently, as though the tension or the cold didn’t bother him. “It’s not about the rabbit.” You wiped at your face with the sleeves of your flannel. Sage and lavender filled your senses, the familiar and unmistakable scent of Charles.

“Was Arthur right?” He asked.

“About what?” You sniffled, looking up at him

“That you were running from something.” He answered, raising his brows. You pursed your lips, returning your gaze to the frozen landscape. Your frustration only growing at his uncanny ability to read you. 

“My father is not a kind man.” You said after a moment, making sure to refer to him in the present tense. “I had to get away.” You said swallowing thickly. Although you didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

He nodded, “You did the right thing.”

“You don’t know that.” You scoffed, shaking your head, “You don’t know me.” Your words were unnecessarily harsh, you regretted them as soon as they left your lips.

“I think I do.” He said, his brows furrowed. Although his eyes held no anger towards you despite his tone. “I think we're more alike than you realize.” He turned his gaze away from you, wiping the snow away from the wooden railing.

“What does that mean?” You asked, narrowing your eyes. He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You are daft sometimes.” He smiled.

“Did you come out here to insult me?” You huffed. The cold did little to help your mood as you started to shiver.

“Is that what you think I came out here to do?” He asked, sighing as he looked over at you. “We are all running from something. Some of us have just been running longer.” He shrugged. You purse your lips, sticking your hands under your armpits to try and warm them up. 

“My father was a kind man until we lost my mother.” Charles said, staring up at the night sky. You softened, your brows pinching together as you looked over at him. “I suppose any man would lose part of themselves if they lost someone like her.” A low sigh left his lips. His voice carrying an undeniable sense of sadness. 

“I’m sorry.” You said softly, you wished you could do something to comfort him. Something that wouldn’t cross a boundary between the two of you. You hoped your words of condolences were enough. 

“Arthur and I started running around the same time in our lives, maybe that’s why we get along so well.” He said with a dry chuckle, a far away look in his eye. “Maybe that’s why we get along as well.” He suggested, his eyes near obsidian in the low light as they found yours. Like steel striking flint, a spark caught between the two of you. Warmth spread throughout your body despite the freezing temperatures. You couldn’t tell whether the goosebumps springing up on your arms were from the snowfall or from him. You didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how a man you had met nearly a week ago could make you feel things you hadn’t felt in years. How they both made you feel things.

Now that was a dangerous thought. 

“Are you not cold?” You asked, trying to snuff out whatever flame was now growing inside you.

“You’re the one who ran out here.” He said with a sly smile, “C’mon, supper won’t cook itself.”

 -

“How often do you boys go hunting?” You asked, nearly moaning over the rabbit stew. The two men smirked at each other before turning their attention back to you.

“Now you know we wouldn’t have had this meat if we hadn’t dressed that rabbit.” Arthur hummed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Dressed? If anything you two undressed him.” You said, your brows furrowed as you looked up from your bowl. Charles bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. Arthur on the other hand, didn’t even try to hold in his laughter. Heat crept up your neck as you looked between the two men. “I’ve said something foolish haven’t I?” You mumbled looking down.

“Not foolish, just funny.” Charles said with a kind smile.

“I’m guessin’ no one hunted much in your family?” Arthur asked, although he could have guessed that from the way you went white as a sheet while looking at the rabbit. You shook your head, shoveling another spoonful into your mouth.

“My father… he was- is a man that doesn’t know much about the outdoors.” You shrugged, hoping they didn’t catch your small slip up. “The only meat we ever got was from the butcher, if we had the money.” Which you never did. Most of the time you had to get creative just to eat something edible for supper. If that meant cutting eyes out of old potatoes you would do it. 

“This man sounds like the simplest of the lot.” Arthur huffed

“Arthur.” Charles warned, looking between the two of you. 

“No Charles it had to be said.” He said, setting down his silverware with a clang, “First the man says women shouldn’t be educated, which is the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard. Now she tells me he don’t know how to provide for his family, neither?”

“Arthur, it's okay really.” You mumbled, swallowing thickly as heat flooded your cheeks. 

“No it ain’t.” He growled, “A woman like you deserves the best in life, not some good for nothin’ father.” You bit your lip, looking down at the table. Your stomach twisting, as shame and gratitude fought for dominance in your head.

“Guess it’s a good thing you found me then.” You said, trying to ease the conversation into a new subject. An emotion flashed across Arthur’s face, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“Yeah… yeah I guess it was.” He said, picking up his spoon as he began to eat again. Charles watched the two of you with an almost knowing gaze. Although you didn’t know exactly what he knew. 

“I never did thank the two of you for saving me.” You said setting down your utensils. “Thank you, I mean it. You could’ve left me but you- well you saved my life. For that I will be forever in your debt.” 

“Well we couldn’t have left ya to freeze out there.” Arthur mumbled, looking down at his bowl as he ate. Although it seemed like he was purposefully avoiding your gaze. His words a far cry from his earlier sentiment of saving you,

“You’re welcome.” Charles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

You nodded, your expression mirroring his as you looked at him from across the table. That warm fuzzy feeling settled in your stomach as the three of you ate. A dangerous thought crept into your mind, one that had been slinking forward for days.

You didn’t want to leave. 

You were comfortable, happy here with them. So they had made a few mistakes, hadn’t everyone? Like Charles had said, they weren’t those people anymore. Whatever that meant you believed him- or you wanted to believe him.You had to go. Before you got in too deep. Before these confusing feelings grew too large to be ignored. You would have to return home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[enkays-den]

Skizz Week 2, Day 1!

@skizzlemanweek has organized an event to celebrate Skizz going full time! Here's the link to the prompts and here's today's prompt: Calm/Chaos! The cleaning part is very much inspired by this piece @fence-time did a while back.

1.8k, no warnings, Impulse, Skizz

---

It was after the first ZITS stream of the season, and Impulse could see Skizz was still hanging around. He’d flown back to the cyberpunk city to say goodbye to chat, but now that he has shut down stream and gotten settled down, he didn’t feel like going to bed. 

He pulled out his comm and texted Skizz.

yo dude, where are you?

Hot tubbies!

omw :) 

Impulse hopped on Tyler Swift and made the quick trip to Tango’s base. Sure enough, Skizz was lounging in one of the giant cauldrons they’d sunk into the ground to serve as makeshift hot tubs. They’d dug a pit into the earth, sunk the cauldrons and their heating elements into the ground, and flooded the area around, so the river water didn’t get into the baths. Unlike before, when he was sitting fully clothed in the basin, he had removed his shirt and the camera harness that let them stream what they were doing without losing utility of their hands. Impulse really hoped he was wearing swim trunks or frankly, anything.

“Hey, bro!” Skizz said, waving. “Just taking a hot bath!

“We just came back from the Nether, dude, and you’re taking a hot bath? You’re gonna cook!”

“It’s good for my bad back! Plus, we were hella dirty from all the sweat and dust anyways. Might as well. Wanna join?”

“No thank you, I will bathe in the privacy of my own base, thank you very much.”

“Spoil sport,” Skizz teased.

Impulse sat on the grass by the water and pulled out a sketchbook. He began working on some supply lists for the city. 

“My chat was having a great time, by the way,” Impulse said. They all seemed really happy you’re here with us.”

Skizz grinned, his brown wings rustling with happiness. “That’s sweet of them. A lot of people joined my chat and were like” – he pulled his ‘cross-eyed and confused’ face - “‘uhhhhhhh who is this old fart’, which is a ridiculous question because first off, uh what are these people talking about? I’m twenty-five. Second of all, how could these people not know me? I’m awesome,” he bragged.

Impulse rolled his eyes at his friend’s false bravado.

They passed the time talking about their base builds, Impulse lounging on the edge of the water and Skizz washing away the grime of the day. Unfortunately, the cauldron was much too small for Skizz to wash his massive wings, which were left to dangle in the river water. Gross.

Skizz ended up crossing his arms on the edge of the cauldron and resting his head o n top, watching Impulse make rough sketches of some of the structures he wanted for the city. Occasionally he’d make a comment or ask a question, but he mostly stayed silent, content to watch this best friend work.

Impulse eventually looked up to see Skizz dozing off. His head was fully rested on his arms, a thin trail of droll running from the corner of his mouth and his wings fully sagging down into the water.

“Hey man, you good?”

The other man didn’t even stir. Odd, since it was usually Impulse that was drained after a stream and Skizz bouncing off the walls.

He pushed himself to his feet, groaning. He really was getting old.

He took off his socks and shoes and stepped into the river to get closer to the cluster of cauldrons.

He gently shook his friend’s shoulders. “Skizzly. Don’t drown on me, bro.”

Still no response, other than a slight turn away from Impulse.

“You are really out of it,” he huffed to himself.

The reckless voice in his head, the one that sounded a lot like Skizz, said to pour water over his head, but he didn’t want to actually drown him. He settled for taking a handful of cool water from one of the other cauldrons and pouring it at the top of his shoulders where his traps met his wings. 

He instantly jumped back and good thing too, the shock of the cold water made Skizz instantly flare out his wings to their full span before he’d even truly woken up. Impulse would have gotten hit by a car covered in brown feathers if he’d stayed where he was.

Skizz yelled incoherently, reaching behind his back, probably thinking someone had put an ice cube down his back.

Impulse started giggling like mad as Skizz continued to get his bearings.

Skizz rounded on him, pointing at him accusingly. “Dipple Dop! Jerkface!”

“Morning, sleepyhead!” He called out. “You weren’t waking up, so I did what I needed to do!”

“Well maybe I wanted to sleep in a cauldron all night!” Skizz countered defensively.

“Sure you did.”

Skizz examined his wings, wiping the grime off one feather between two pinched fingers and grimacing. “Ugh. I didn’t even get the nether dust out of these things. I’m gonna have to kick up a desert trying to get this stuff off.” 

Washing wings was a long and arduous task to do by oneself. Using water was out of the question, because it was impossible to thoroughly clean the backside because even the smallest pair of wings on the server (Grian’s) had a nine foot span. The winged hermits tended to find unorthodox methods to clean, like flapping wildly in a completely bare room to shake off the dust, or resorting to building weird contraptions. No one would forget Zed’s attempt to make a ‘car wash, but for hermits’.

Skizz’s habit was from over a decade ago, back before they’d known even Tango. He would go to a desert and take a massive dust bath, opening the spaces between his feathers as much as he could and lying down, making a sand angel. He’d then go to someplace with more solid ground and shake all the sand out. You could usually see the dust devil from miles away.

It was effective, but it was still a lot of work, and Skizz definitely didn’t have the energy for it. And then he’d be dirty and moody for a few days at least.

“I can help you, if you want.”

Skizz looked at him, blue eyes wide. “You’d do that for me, bro?”

“Course. Otherwise, you’d be leaving red dust all over my city.”

Skizz punched his arm. “You’re such a jerk. Get the brushes and my soap, it’s in a giant green bottle. I’ll start soaking the flight feathers.”

Impulse quickly fetched the bottle Skizz described and then changed into clothes he didn’t mind getting wet. When he returned, Skizz had filled the other cauldrons with water to heat up as he carefully dipped the stiffest feathers into the hottest cauldron to make them less delicate. If any flight feathers snapped, he’d either have to wear the prosthetics or be grounded for weeks. 

Impulse worked on soaking the other wing, taking care to not touch any sensitive spots. Any muscle spasms would have the twelve foot wing knocking him on his butt. They couldn’t even risk Skizz’s laughter triggering a spasm, so they had to work silently.

Soaping up the feathers was a lot easier than soaking them. Years ago, they’d found these giant brushes usually used to clean windows that worked great for scrubbing wings. Skizz would lie on his back, get the front of his wings scrubbed, and repeat on his front. Impulse liked to joke that he was playing curling, armed with the giant broom-brush combo. This step was the main reason why Skizz couldn’t do this by himself.

Rinsing was a step he could participate in, slowly pouring water over the front-facing side of his wings while Impulse did the same on the back. They’d also comb the feathers straight with their fingers to make sure nothing dried crooked. Impulse was very experienced with preening Skizz’s wings after so many years, and had the larger man a trilling mess by the time they were done.

Skizz pulled on his shirt and tucked his wings into giant satin wraps that Cleo had made for him. The two of them hopped on Tyler Swift and made their way back to Magical Mountain. 

Once back at Skizz’s base, Skizz jumped into a hole he’d mined that led into the hollow section of the mountain that he was using to dry his wings. It wasn’t dusty, no one had any builds nearby. Impulse helped get the wraps off Skizz’s wings before standing with him on the little cliff on the cave wall.

Skizz stood facing Impulse with his back to the open cavern. The two men placed their hands on each others shoulders and bent their knees, bracing.

“On three?” At Impulse’s nod, Skizz counted down, and started to flap his wings. They'd developed this technique to dry off Skizz’s wings with Tango’s help. That day had started with Skizz flicking water at their friend with a twitch of his wing and devolved into a lot of experiments to figure out the best way for him to fling water in a spray or with precision.

With every beat of Skizz’s wings, there was a slight hiss as droplets of water hit the cave walls. The hiss was quickly drowned out by the roar of air rushing past their ears. Skizz’s face was screwed up in concentration, fighting every instinct to take off into the cave ceiling. Impulse’s presence also kept him on the ground.

After Impulse saw that barely any water was coming off the wings, he squeezed Skizz’s shoulder, signaling for him to stop.

Skizz slowed his wings, panting and leaning heavily against Impulse. 

“Feeling clean?” Impulse asked, leading the other man by the arm back into the base proper.

“Yeah, I feel loads better. Thanks, Dipple Dop.” He yawned. “Time for beddie-bye.”

Impulse yawned, suddenly feeling bone tired from the nether run and helping Skizz clean up. “Night, bud. I feel like I’m about to pass out, too.”

“Ooh, sleepover!” Skizz exclaimed, clapping his hands. “That is, if you wanna?” He gave Impulse his best puppy-dog eyes. Not that those worked on Impulse, he’d known the other man for much too long.

“Sure.”

Skizz whooped and went to his storage room to fetch one of his many spare mattresses (he tended leave beds everywhere). He returned lugging a twin mattress and a yellow blanket draped over his shoulders. Impulse helped him set it down near Skizz’s own bed and curling up in the large blanket, closing his eyes. Skizz threw a pillow down to him and he took it without opening his eyes and setting it under his neck.

“Goodnight, buddy,” Impulse muttered.

The copper lamp beside Skizz’s bed was extinguished, leaving the two men in a cozy darkness. “Night, bro.”

[elviraaxen]

ive really been loving the pacing of your story and i enjoy the concept and the bits that have been released about the plot! youre doing really well, and i admire it greatly!!

ive been having trouble figuring out an overall plot in my own work, i just have character ideas and the vaguest idea for a storyline. i try to just write but then i usually end up taking a break (re: dumping it) because i don't have anymore ideas for how to complete the plot. i've laso been curious about how you go about writing for a comic (do you write then do thumbnails? do thumbnails then go back to figure out dialogue? a third thing?) so i was wondering if you had any advice or resource tips for writing? both for comics and for overarching plots, if that's okay

if you don't have any ideas tho, no worries. i was just curious. good luck with Felt World! i love everything that's coming out so far, thank you for gifting us it!!

Oh thank you so much!! I can't say I'm a comic book artist at heart because I really don't have much experience, I was only an illustrator for a short while and never wrote anything myself, but learning from past mistakes (i.e. I don't stick to plans), I've so far done this and it seems to work:

I'm one of those that don't like to plan strict layouts for the entire thing, because chances are I will not stick to it, so what I've done for felt world is just write a sketch for the overarching plot, the b-plot and c-plot, with rough estimates in what order I want the major plot points and settings to be. My current sketch looks like this;

(which is done in Miro) and as you can see there aren't that many plot points, because I want to have the wiggle room to come up with something on the spot. And also, my comic focuses a lot on interpersonal relationships, character development, and themes rather than the plot, which means it needs to be concise or else the comic is gonna take 6 million years to finish.

And now,, I think this might just be how I work, but I think it's easier to be creative when you have strict restrictions rather than all the choices in the world.

for me, personally, I restrict an update of 10 pages tops, because instagram only allows max 10 images per post! This means I have to 1) fit all I want to say in 10 pages, 2) it has to be concise or else I infodump on readers, and 3) I have to answer some sort of question within the update, or else I said nothing and I start over.

As for scripts, I tend to write one or two sentences of what's going to happen for the update, and then I get to thumb-nailing and sketching right away! I come up with most of the dialogue on the spot too.

And also, I think what's most important, is that you take your damn time! If you aren't immersing yourself in your own world, how do you expect your readers to do the same?

I'm very much a believer that the stories you are telling are something that comes to you naturally if you just sit with it and listen rather than demand that it makes itself known to you. When I brainstorm for felt world I quite literally sit in my bed and go "omg!! And then what? :0" TO MYSELF LMAO as if I'm not making everything up myself! I think that's extremely important that your story is engaging to you first and foremost!

And as for more practical tips

carry a notebook with you or use your notes app AS SOON as you get ideas to write them down! No you will not remember, lol.

set rules of what you're not allowed to do with your story so that you don't fall into lazy trope territory! You can do that when you brain storm, but finesse the story post brainstorm to just make it.. smarter.. if that makes sens For example, don't kill your gay characters, don't make sensitive men the butt of the joke, don't make your women fight over men (unless it's the point), etc.

set physical restrictions! For example, max amount of pages per upload, max amount of pages for the whole story, max amount of characters, etc.! That literally forces you to problem solve, which by definition is creativity! Like, oh you can't do this the obvious way? Do it the creative way! That's way more fun!

I could probably go on, but this is too long already! But I hope it at least helped somewhat!

[the-one-who-lambs]

I wasn't originally gonna post these since I don't consider them done (well, with the first two, I don't know if I'll do anything else with them but I don't think I'd be able to call them "done" anyway) BUT since I'm trying to document my learning process anyway I'm posting. did some lambs practice

@littl3d0ll-art's laMB ARGH I meant to put a sash around the waist but I need to get ready for bed so I can't fix it now RIP ANYWAY CHECK OUT THE EYES OF DEATH AU and the most fucked up lamb I've EVER seen which is. actually quite impressive for this fandom. Anyway I made a custom lineart brush a few days ago and used it for the first time and actually??? it slaps???? I think it's just a matter of me figuring out perspective/proportions/technical stuff but I'm satisfied with the progress I've made on doing lineart just by using the brush i made wow

@isoparty HAS SUCH A COOL LAMB DESIGN WHAT THE FUCK thank you for letting me use Rori as a test subject!! With the sketch I tried to position the legs beneath the skirt before drawing the skirt so it looks kinda wonky on purpose so i could figure out posture, hopefully I'll be able to make a cleaner sketch later on! There are still aspects of the posture I need to clarify but here's the rough draft of the rough draft

Aaaand this one I didn't finish before I realized Oh Shit I Need To Eat Dinner Right Now but I started sketching allimore's lambso wait where is allimore? oh here @meowgin hi here's SOME of your lambsona!! I wanna make the wool bigger when I go over it i think but I found a nice side profile ref and wanted to try a side :o

Thank u all for being so supportive as I learn a (sorta) new skill!!! besides these 3 I have 5 more lambs on the hit list in the queue

[eldritch-spouse]

Can I get Penis Panic part 3- Revenge of the Dicks? Featuring the demon triplets, the garden inhabitants, Shags, and Stitches?

-Corkscrew Cock Anon

[Adding the aquarium peeps too, because I don't have a name planned for a part 4 if anyone asks.]

TW: Noncon.

(THE TRILOGY)

Ludwig sighs. The first thing that graces his mind is disappointment, the blatant display of terror turning him off a little, but then he genuinely gets worried. In fact, if you don't wake up very soon, he's going to rush you to a hospital. He's not even thinking about why you fainted, he's just worried half to death.

Obie snorts. Hahah, real funny! Oh shit, you actually passed out. HUH. He's shaking you immediately. Is it the piercings?? Do you think they'll hurt? Dude don't scare him like that! You'll wake up to Obie clutching you and sighing loudly in relief.

Mervin rolls his eyes. You're overreacting! Geez, what are you, a baby? Come now. It's a little flattering. Okay, he's basically high on it- But it's definitely an unusual reaction and he's mildly concerned. You'll wake up to him seated on the edge of the bed, demanding an explanation.

Shags stares at your limp form for a few moments. Curious. Well then, he's nothing if not an opportunist. You're posed in different ways, Shags starts sketching you when he's sure you're not in real danger, relieving himself to the rough sketches and your lovely slumbering visage. Even in terror-induced sleep, you're a work of unspeakable art.

Stitches laughs mutely for so long he probably sits out one of his atrophied lungs. THIS IS TOO GOOD. He fucks you anyway. After all, you're being silly. Stitches is sure your panic will fade to pleasure when you wake up getting fucked as deep and fast as be can. Gonna faint again? Patches will seethe about this later.

Colmei panics. The Queen fainted?! The Queen fainted!! She's ill! She's sick! HURRY. The entire hive surrounds you, buzzing in preoccupation. Colmei carries you to a bed of the best flowers he can find, pacing back and forth as he wonders about what could have made you ill enough to fall unconscious. It doesn't cross his mind that you fainted from the sight of his cock. After all, he's part of your loyal colony, why would you fear him?

Hellion recoils. Wow, you fell like dead weight. Are you actually dead?? He pokes you just to be sure, resting that flat face on your chest and neck to make sure you're actually breathing. That was weird... He's not sure what you expected. Is it because he doesn't have visible balls like some of the others? No really, he's puzzled. Hellion lays on your legs and waits for you to wake up.

Pebble is inconsolable. He thinks he frightened you to death, somehow. The gargoyle screams and carries you to someone he trusts, horrified at himself. It's his fault!! He's too hideous and even his cock is all wrong! That's why you don't want him. He's sobbing and garbling incoherently through the paper bags, having a massive tantrum, throwing shit around while you're attended to.

Magus catches you before you can sink like an anchor. Did the glowing frighten you? Why would you fear your mate? He wasn't going to stick all of it in, you did know that, right? You know he's not stupid enough to kill you, right?? He's almost offended. The huge mermonster sighs and keeps you afloat on his front, swimming aimlessly until you wake up again, his odd cock coiled around your leg.

Glauk is whining. What kind of game is this? No one's ever done that before! He sits there like a dork looking at his own cock, moving it around in hopes of finding what scared you so much. His scent is fine, he's not discolored, it works just fine- What got you so worked up?? Incapable of conceiving you might not want to bed him anymore, Glauk fondles and ruts sporadically at you until you're awake again.

[truths33k3r4]

How would you say Lotus’ relationship is growing with the brothers?

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO RESPOND TO-

I was on vacation and away from my precious computer with all my lovely files and sketches on it, so I had to wait till I got home to answer-

ANYWAYS! To your question!

Ooooh hehe this is gonna be another long one~ STRAP IN HAHA!

(Before I begin I'm going to give a little warning, because this is, technically, discussing spoilers of my story! You have been warned!)

(TW- mention of ptsd, needles, medical phobias, implied experimentation, trauma)

Lotus begins her time with the brothers pretty... rough. She's hurt, afraid, and continually fighting to keep control of her emotions and ptsd. She attempts (at first) to cover this up by speaking with more confidence than she truly has. She's blunt with her words, never allowing someone to misunderstand her. But her honesty becomes troublesome as Mikey becomes more curious about what happened to her. He constantly asks questions, and in order to keep from scarring the younger turtle, she vigilantly censors and blurs her answers.

It helps that Mikey has been in the Medbay so many times himself. Many of Lotus' triggers lie in that medicinal room, and Mikey quickly learns this. It doesn't quite make sense to him at first why she's so scared. He's been sat down on that exam table more times than he can count, but any time fear tried to show its ugly mug, the love and gentleness of his oldest brother's care pushed it back into the shadows.

To Lotus, Mikey looks and acts about the same age as she might be, so she feels a natural sibling comradery with him. It takes some time for her to finally open up to him, (again, for fear that she will legit BREAK THIS POOR BOY), but his gentle encouragement eventually pulls the last brick of her crumbling walls loose.

~

Lotus and Don share many similarities: Their lack of patience for any kind of stupidity, their shared mentality of logic over emotion, and especially~ the reason of their work ethic.

Don is the only brother who has a "human" job. He works in IT, helping customers with their computers, files, softwares, etc. He has put this large responsibility of a full-time, remote job on his shoulders so he can be of more use to his family. Sure, he takes care of the various leaks and loose screws (his brothers) around their home, but it never feels like it's enough. God gave him a brain- so he better put it to good use! Like a rusted piece of an engine, you're only so useful for so long, and can easily be replaced if a better substitute comes along.

Lotus, (after recovering enough to stand and walk on her own again), quickly tries to find a chore she can do for the family that took her in. They went out of their way to take her into their home; giving her a bed to sleep in, real food to eat, and a warmth in her heart she never dreamed of feeling.

Their grace will never be wasted on her.

After finding that she was still too weak to do most of the chores around the lair, she defeatedly went to Don for advice on what she could do. They brainstormed for some time. Don would click and clack on his computer, jotting down all the possible choices for her, until one in particular caught Lotus' attention.

BAKING.

With his thorough understanding of chemistry, as well as years of watching and helping Splinter as a child, Don was the perfect teacher for her. After his shift ended, he and Gliss, (his nickname for Lotus), went into the kitchen and baked an array of strudels, croissants, cakes, and many other delectable treats. Don would even sneak a few pastries from their load of "stale" baked goods from the bakery down the street, to use as reference for techniques on folding, braiding, and so forth. They would also get some good ninja practice in while fending off Don's thieving brothers from their sweet treats.

(Here's some old concept art of a later scene of Don and Lo on the rooftops) :)

~

Lotus and Raph don't always see eye to eye. In fact- they fight. A lot. Like Don, Lotus is also extremely similar to her fiery brother. Their boldness and tempers mix violently, creating a flaming whirlwind of spite and annoyance in a matter of seconds. Neither will usually back down, often leaving that particular responsibility to someone else. Their arguments can range from a long and low-flickering rivalry, to a raging inferno that will swallow both of them up if not stopped.

However, the worst of enemies can also become the closest of friends.

When Lotus begins having horrible side affects of her treatments, (or lack thereof), she vigilantly tries to keep her sickness hidden. (She can NOT be a burden to the family that took her in- not EVER) Raph is one of the first, (alongside Leo), who catches on to what she's keeping hidden from them. When all is revealed, and arguments begin, Lotus finally breaks about her guilt of being a burden to her the family. Raph recognizes this guilt as the same in his own heart from years of being an enemy of one of his brothers. This connection of weakness bonds the two.

Over time, they learn to respect the other's opinions and feelings, no matter if they make sense or not. The specific Bible verse "A fool uttereth all his words, but a wise man keepeth them in" is continually referenced by their brothers on the road to their relationship's recovery.

Curt replies and snide remarks become clarifications and encouragement.

Competition becomes humility.

Rivalry becomes tenderness.

Eventually, Lotus is often found chilling alongside Raph in Don's office while the freckled brother works. Lotus loves to watch Raph sketch in his notebook, and Raph soon learns to allow the subtle scrutiny, so long as he gets to spend time with his sis and twin. Their passion and creativity blend into something beautiful when they come together to create a very important mural.

(More concept art- and also something else the two share.. A fear of needles. :( )

~

Lotus and Leo's relationship begins pretty badly at first.

After the dreaded surgery gone wrong, Leo becomes more nervous and hesitant around Lo. His guilt of what went wrong during the surgery being his fault drives him to be extra cautious around her, trying not to bring up anything that will trigger her in any sort of way.

Lotus both appreciates it and hates it. She loves his care for her, but she despises being coddled in any kind of way. She isn't some delicate flower that will blow away with one sneeze. She also becomes more hesitant to be near him, (not just because he works in that awful room), always choosing to hang out with Mikey or the twins.

Leo can't blame her.

When Lotus begins having tense side affects to her treatments in the labs, Leo and Raph combine forces to get her to tell them when she's sick. "I'm fine" is no longer a liable answer to how she was feeling. Nope- they demanded descriptive and thorough answers.

The road of Lotus' recovery is a long and tedious one.

Every second spent in the Medbay filled Lotus' heart with the paralyzing chill of her past. And despite previously forgiving Leo for the surgery gone wrong, she still had a stubborn spark of distrust in her heart towards him. Especially when he treated her.

But after an exhausting few months, she slowly grows stronger and healthier. Her Medbay visits become less frequent, (much to her delight), and her independence finally is given the chance to bloom. Leo still catches himself coddling her, but always cuts himself off and dismisses his oldest brother protective instincts.

Over time Leo introduces her to one of his favorite past times~ puzzles while listening to music. Something simple, that didn't require too much brain work, and also could be done sitting down. It was the perfect mental getaway for the leader; Something so calm and relaxing that he could do to recover from a mission or a stressful day in the Medbay. (And of course he could organize every single puzzle piece and not get flack for it, because that is LITERALLY HOW you do a puzzle, and it is NOT WRONG to enjoy the organization process of shapes and colors~)

So whenever they weren't training, or off saving the small world of New York, Lotus and Leo would sit and hum to various soundtracks, while placing and organizing the puzzle pieces.

Okay, that's all I have for now! :) I have been writing this for two hours now heheh XD

Thanks for the question, Anon!!

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

[amalasdraws]

Hello Amalas! I love your artworks coz they're so detailed and you can even make clutter look beautiful. I'd like to ask: what reference do you use for the background? Do you go outside and take pictures or sketch here and there? Do you use photo books? Internet? Coz everytime i look at your artworks in a bigger screen, it makes me feel like i'm transported to the place-- like i'm a passer-by or a fellow diner watching your character a few steps or tables away from where i am.

Awww thank you!! Okay This is gonna be a bit longer It’s a mix of a lot of things and a lot of the things around me. I not only love to draw cluttered places, but I also always kinda lived in lovely cluttered places. So a lot of inspiration is just taken from the things around me, my own memories, and the things I like.

My latest pic for example is something that is created by just an idea I have of a kitchen, based on things I know and things I’ve seen. I didn’t have a specific reference here.

I mostly always start with my characters and then very roughly sketch the room I have in mind around them.

And based on this I create my perspective lines and map out the space a bit clearer. Measure my distance with the perspective lines and create my surfaces. 

And then I go into lineart. First for the surface only.

And when I have all my surfaces I only then go into my detailed clutter and add it all over time.

As said, this kitchen was fully made up and only really got shaped into form on my canvas.But I for example have a gas stove and one of those espresso cans at home, so just a quick walk into my kitchen allows me to look up certain items if I’m unsure how they look.

But there are also a couple of items by now that I have stored in my own personal mental library. When you look at my pieces closely there are a bunch of items that I have in several of them. Poles, electric cables, a certain type of window, stacked bowls and cups, soda cans, etc And those are all items that I can draw by now without any reference. And then there are some new items that I have to look up, so I mostly just do a quick google search to get an idea on how they look. For example this bedroom piece was created like the kitchen above and just based on an idea I had in mind, rooms I knew or saw somewhere and then just created out of my head. I started with a rough sketch

And then continued the same way as with the kitchen piece. But here I had some very typical late 90s items in mind, and as I could draw the bed, room, window, and some small details just out of my head, there were a couple of items I looked up on google to get the right look for them!

So I created a small library from pics I found on google and just put them on the side of my pic to have them as a ref.It doesn’t have to be a perfect ref. Just a good enough pic to give me an idea of how an item looks like.

Sometimes I have an idea of a room but want something specific and it should look more or less authentic so I go on a google search for similar places.I still like to create my own version but I look at certain structures and items that those places have and try to incorporate them into my piece

Like with this one for example. I just used some photos from google that gave me a good idea of a place like this.

Many of those items are still chosen from my mental library, but I also have some things I look up and some loose references. 

Keep in mind that I’m doing this for some time now! And I build up my mental library and how I want to draw things over time! This is not something that comes over night. It takes time! And it comes by repeating things and drawing them over and over.

I also love to take photos and when I visit new places or see something I like I take photos. One because I love to take photos, but also as a future ref. And some of those photos I use as loose refs as in the examples above. And sometimes I even pretty much just redraw them. Because I really like the structure, or want that specific look or even specific place!

For example I took this photo when I was in New York and as the Aran and Tao story takes place in New York I really wanted to create a place like this! A structure and street similar to the photo.

And as you can see especially the train structure and street look is something I used for this drawing here

So long answer short

It’s a mix of things!I have a good mental library by now, I like to draw the things I know and the things around me, and when I go for a certain city, or street look I like to work based on photos I took by myself and use them as refs.

And taking photos also helped me a lot with my background drawings. It gave me an idea of how my irl 3d street view looks on a 2d photo, an idea for lines and angles, what works and what not, and what to look for in backgrounds, what I like in city scenes, and what I want to create. Google photos can be helpful refs, but I like to use them more loosely to only give my brain a reminder again on how a certain item or space looks like. When I really redraw something or stay close to my ref I like to take my own ref photo, so all is my work.

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Being Thor's best friend + Týr's Fiance part 2

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Reader: female | Thor x sister-in-law Reader (Platonic)| Týr x reader (romantic eventually)

Notes: you guys liked the last one so heres the second part!, Freyr also comes in! So cool! Also týr heavy, not much thor this time! Sorry

Warnings: bitchy moms bitchy moms oh so bitch moms

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

If you fully honest

You didnt remember what happened when you woke up the next day in bed with you sketch book and a few pages spewed on the bed with yourself and a pencil

You felt a large hand, an unfamiliar large hand fall on your shoulder as you stay fake sleeping, a blanket being brought further up your body as your hair was swipped back for comfort and that was all.

You hadnt even been changed out your outfit of last night.

You sat up

"I did not wish to wake you." Týr spoke, Y/n's sketch book in his hand, setting it on the desk.

"Oh...thank you." Y/n spoke softly.

"You are tired still. I would be as well." Týr chuckled, "we had quiet the night."

Y/n was silent looking around, "You take your work very seriously."

Y/n nodded, oh, drilling another project she supposed, picking up one of the left over sketches some quick, other's well consumed on time.

"Ah....I was having trouble with the beard..." Y/n responded looking over the sketch, "I uh. Was never too good at draw braids."

"I had heard of your work prior, I am certainly impressed."

Y/n nodded, "thank you. Its an ever-growing skill."

Y/n looked at the other pages casually, he watching her intently.

"Uh...yes?" Y/n asked nervously.

"Oh. Breakfast?"

"Uh. Sure..." Y/n responded.

He had brought you breakfast in bed

Thats awfully nice

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Yes. Its good." Y/n spoke, "did you make it?"

He made it indeed.

Still you feel akward eating lunch with this man.

Its a rough start, the trying to get to know you part

He figures, once he starts getting you to talk, you wont be able to stop

Its true in a way, you enjoyed talking about your pass time, and he enjoyed listening.

But besides that you didnt open up much.

"You and Thor are good friends."

"Since we were kids."

"It's nice then. To return after your long journey to friends."

Y/n looked down into her bowl, "I was on a journey. Is that what they told?"

"You're own mother-"

"She's just as bad as your father." Y/n complained, "Both compulsive liars."

"Misery is good company they say."

That caused her to chuckle, he wasnt wrong.

He likes your smile, and you enjoy his witty humor.

You could atleast be friends it seemed like, he's kind, and carring. Good sense of humor.

Also he wasnt like your mother so big plus

Deep deep deep down, you know that you could of become friends with Týr on your own if you werent forced to marry him.

You guys kinda are forced to spend the day together

You both do try and see the postive, but the postive would you not having to wear a dress, so you didnt and came out looking like a bad ass bitch.

So you spend your day together, mostly walking, and sitting, and talking.

Until kids run up to you

"You bested Thor!" One cheered, "me and my sister are gonna be Valkyires! We wanna be like you!"

"Yeah you were so cool!"

"The first male Valkyire?" Y/n asked.

"Yeah!" They cheered, "The Valkyire twins!"

Y/n chuckled, "Well. I am no Valkyire. But. I know a few. And Im sure one day you'll both best the best."

"Come on! Lets go tell mom!"

And they ran off together with happy goodbyes.

Cute. Kids are cute, sometimes

"You're good with them."

"Kids?" Y/n asked, "truth me told I still think Im one myself"

He likes that your comfortable

And you both contuine your talking

It doesn't last long, a charge of kids come at you

"Can boys really be Valkyires!?"

"I wanna be a Valkyire!"

"Me too!"

"Lets battle!"

"Yeah! Come on! If we beat you! We're sure to be Valkyires!"

Oh what have you done

Týr's laughing as a group of kids gang up on you

You have no choice but the crumble

They've resorted to tickling you now

But you wont let them win and chase them causing them to laugh and run.

He thinks it's really an eye opener to see how you are

Plus he thinks its really cute you with kids

Though he doesn't feel like its his place to ask your opinion on kids

Luckily you go through most of the walk without intruption

His talks of peace and all, really intrest you, he knows peace can brought on even without war.

You wish nothing but to agree with him, but you know how cruel people can be, he knows but still sees the postivey in them all.

You suppose no one wants to see there parents in that light, even the worst of them.

Changing the subject he ask what you'd like to do.

Your tempted to say drinking contest.

But end up saying drawing.

He'll admit he's not the best artist, but would love to contuine to spend the time with you

He's expecting a table, just drawing whatever you remember.

Not well. The adventure that comes with it

Climbing on the sea side cliffs, a dangerous but exilerating adventure.

Sure your both shuffling along but soon your jump from one cliff to another and he's worried you'll fall.

He soon learns this isnt your first rodeo, nor second. It's like you were born into this.

"Here we are," y/n spoke, hoping down onto the pebbly beach, "our subject matter and dinner."

Its a two in onw for sure, catching fish and drawing, intresting idea but for sure something he wouldnt mind doing again.

So you both sit together throughout the sunset and until the night takes over.

It wasnt so bad spending time with one another

You best be sure ya'll spendt the night on that beach.

The next morning you woke up on the beach, warm, and happily swaddled in large arms.

Tempted to go back to bed and temptation wins

You simply roll over and go back to sleep.

You wake up later in a bed.

How much later on you don't know, but you wake up alone and covered in thick blankets.

Sitting up you get out off bed, you're chlothes have been changed.

Your hair braided back for comfort

"You're up."

"Freya?"

She came over with a pot in hand, setting it on the bedside.

"Týr explained to me you were cold to the touch, he was afraid of any sickness." She explained, "thats what happens when you spend your night on a beach shoeless. Do you feel ill?"

"Oh. Uh. No. Im fine." Y/n told, "thank you."

She nodded, "drink this. For security."

Freya poured Y/n a cup, she thankful and took it.

"How are you two getting along?"

"We're fine....I still dont think of him as..."

"A partner?"

Y/n nodded, "Suppose I am selfish-"

"Its arranged. It's normal to feel such a way. With your conditions especially."

You were quiet as you drank your tea. So Freya knew about what happened to you...

She talks to you a bit more about Týr mostly, and you answer the best you could

Your little "date" with him yesterday didnt go bad after all

"He cares very much about you already. He finds you liberating."

"Whats that suppose to mean?"

"You dont find too many Aesir with hearts tainted that still hold true to there holder."

With that she leaves you, and Thor is walking in.

"I heard a colds the one kick your arse."

"Oh please." Y/n complained, "Come for another ass beatin then?"

"Can't I check on ny friend?"

Y/n shook her head playfully, drinking her tea looking out the nearby window.

"Its good to have you back."

Y/n looked his way, "its nice to be back. Within reason. Cant stand to look at your father or my mothers face for two fuckin seconds."

He laughs at that, and so do you

Its the truth in full honesty.

You cant balme him. Its fucking funny

Yet its all cut short when your mother walks in.

You manage to shoo thor away, as she closes the door behind him.

"Daughter."

She received silence, "Have you slept with him child?"

Y/n sipped her tea.

"Have you fucked thor."

"How the fuck am i suppose to sleep with Thor?" Y/n argued, "He's my friend-"

"What does your husband think about this-"

"He likes my fun." Y/n growled, "and he's not my husband."

"He will be within days time."

"He will be within days time."

"Dont you dare mock me. What are you? Five?"

"Oh please a five year old has more balls and intergerity than you'll ever have." Y/n argued.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, leaving Y/n to her own devices.

Gladly you were by yourself, with your sketch book on the bed side.

You grab it and look through it looking through yesterday sketches.

The pebble beach was the peice of the day, and some pages included small things you found along the way, a small crab, some seaweed, the fire you two had made

And you had even tried sketching Týr a few times, small portraits

Final you decide to get out of bed and get dressed.

You make your way around, finding Týr talking with Sif.

"I'll leave you to it then."

"Sif hey."

"Y/n." She smiled with a quick bow of the head in acknowledgement, "I'll leave you to be."

Y/n watched her leave, "I am glad you are feeling better.

She looked up at Týr and smiled small, "just cold feet it all. You two talking bout smart people stuff?"

"Uh. A book." He responded.

"Which one?"y/n asked trying to make conversation, "Im assuming there is no war in it?"

It went silent, she confused and raised an eyebrow, "you good?"

"I apologize for lying to you." He started.

"Huh?"

"I was rather asking how to woo you. You seem great friends with Thor, I suppose me and Sif are much more alike in that aspect of partner ship."

Y/n laughed it a cute sentiment: "very thoughtful of you. You want...an opinion? I would consider myself an expert."

"Very much I would."

"be yourself." Y/n smiled softly up at him, " but dont be afraid to ak me the hard questions. I can take em."

He chuckled, a smooth lightheared sound, "then may I ask: would we have been lovers on a diffrent path? One that is not arranged."

Y/n hummed, "i suppose blunt honesty is how I woo you?"

"Most certainly," he smiled, his fingeds coming up to tilt her chin up.

Despite his large form he was soft, and careful, and his touch could make anyone melt.

"I don't know." Y/n answered finally, "Truth be told Im surpised we even get along on the path we're currently on."

"And why do you say that?"

"I did beat your brothers ass at the accounment dinner."

Týr chuckled once more, "I believe that is what started our friendship."

You could only smile at him.

Then realized what the fuck was happening: your sharing your feelings, your open, your melting at a simple chin lift.

Your....developing a crush kinda sort off...

Oh fuck no

So you pull away, telling him you should...go...and well do something

You dont exactly know what your doing but your running away basically

To do what? To hide from your feelings

Top ten places to hide is the wheat farms especially when there ready to be harvested and its all tall.

Soon enough who you thought was Freya comes along with a baby dragon.

"Looks like we have a guest. Y/n? Right?"

"Yeah?"

"Im Freyr. Freyas brother."

"Oh. Nice to meet you."

He took a seat without a care, commented on the sky and got to chatting right away, the baby dragon coming into your lap to play

"Ready for the big day?"

"No."

"Eh. No one ever is."

"I dont want to marry him." Y/n complained, "not now."

"Well then dont." Freyr spoke, "its that easy isnt it?"

"Unfortunately not." Y/n responded.

"Well why not?" He asked, she shrugged.

"Just. Isnt..."

"But you do wanna marry him?"

"Well. No."

"You said not now."

"I can see why Freya is the one that does all the talking,"

"Ooo, ouch." He hissed, "Someone got a little defensive."

"Is there a point? To your madness?"

"Theres always a point to madness is there not? Madness is what makes the world move forward."

"You are confusing."

"Thanks." He smiled settling down in the wheat, his body relaxed with the sun casting down on him, "lay back would you? Your blocking the sun."

Y/n sighed and scooted over allowing the sun to hit him, she just stared at him.

"You gonna ask me a question? Or ya gonna sit there and stare? I know Im beautiful."

Y/n sighed, "what happens if I do love him? I do marry him? My mother wins..."

"Ah yes. I hate her just as much as you do."

"You do?"

"Mhm. My sister and her got into it. While back." Freyr explained, "she hurt her is all I can say. Nasty blow out really."

"So I let her win?"

"From what I know of her she likes control, your out here. Sitting in a feild with another man. And a dragon." Freyr explained turning on his side, "has Týr expressed anything he likes about you to you? I know he has to Freya. Its yap yap yap since the moment he saw you. Yap Y/n Yap Y/n. Did you know Y/n draws? Yap yap yap. Just like that."

Y/n chuckled, the baby dragon gumming on her hand: "I suppose he does like that Im me...without my mother."

"Hm." Freyr hummed, "your mothers miserable anyways. Fuck it, do what you want. What makes you happy."

Y/n hummed in thought, "cheese sounds like it, it would make me happy right now."

Freyr looked at her, "that does sound good."

And thats how you became friends with Freyer, eating cheese outside the meed hall.

Your laughing with him, talking about things: life

Hes talking about his home realm, the beauty of it even inviting you to come

"Hey maybe you'll come on Honeymoon"

"Oh please."

You guys talk until night has long ago fallen.

So late that you hand over the dragon to him because it fell asleep when you part diffrent ways.

You return back to your room being quiet as possible, your sure everyones asleep at this hour.

Týr had fallen asleep with a book in your shared bed

You were quick to change into your bedware, quietly at that too, doesnt help you tripped over your own shoes

You grabbed the book from the bed and marked it for him putting it off to the side as he had many times for her.

Then carefully climbed over him, to find yourself a spot beside him before falling asleep.