#I’m feeling a little less silly rn

[stinkypeanutbutter]

the new chapter is eating me please I need to know what happens please is hanako there is he an adult do the twins even exist what’s gonna happen to everyone like Teru and also Sakura also Aoi having her pigtails back in so clearly her hand is okay so maybe the thing between her and 6 didn’t happen like they changed everything I guess what happens to the other supernaturals also mitsuba is that guy still there or is he like alive now by chance also his relationship with kou are they still friends did they meet yet does that mean their date never happened c’mon man mitsukou is disintegrating all this character development I’m dying I’m gonna explode I need to know aidalro you better spill the Nutella beans or I’m gonna start fist fighting my cat AHHFJHHH

[marimbles]

i miss being in my tmsidk era. what was i on back then. where did that girl go. come back ho why would you abandon me like this

[neixins]

the sword and shield part of the prophecy is soooo vague that i’ll rotate every possible theory inside my silly little head and then go “or it could be smth else”. absolute net zero conclusions reached but i had fun.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 3k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest. AO3

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned.  Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for,  not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg. 

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten. 

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied. 

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.” 

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine.  Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple. 

You felt completely stuck. 

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out.  You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this. 

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.” 

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.” 

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.” 

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again. 

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

[g1rld1ary]

the way i see you ; remus lupin x reader

➻ synopsis: you're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. they finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper

➻ word count: 4346

➻ content: swearing, allusions to sex, gryffindor reader but literally mentioned once, no pronouns but implied to be fem reader, kissing, no war AU!!

➻ the remus brainrot is strong rn

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were an artist, you had been the whole time the boys knew you. Even in first year as a shy eleven year old, you were always scribbling away in a little sketchbook that lived in the big pockets of your robes. The hobby only developed as you got older, expanding mediums and filling countless sketchbooks. When you weren’t studying (or even when you were supposed to be) it was almost a given that you’d be working on a piece somewhere, far from the prying eyes of others.

Your friends caught glances of your art sometimes, doodles on the corner of your essays or notes, maybe a stray page left out in your dorm which told them you were good, but you never ever willingly let them see it. They didn’t know why, truthfully, you didn’t know either, but it had always been that way and everyone had more or less accepted that.

“Have you ever drawn me?” Sirius asked one afternoon as you all sat out by the Black Lake, cocky grin on his face.

“’Course,” You answered simply, moving to turn back to your conversation with Remus.

“Wait, really?”

“Well you have to have drawn me then, right? Can’t just be Padfoot!” James cut in quickly, making you laugh, nodding.

“Before everyone starts asking, lets just establish that I’ve drawn all of you at some point, okay?” You thought that would calm them down, but it only riled them up further, much to your chagrin.

“And you haven’t shown us?” Marlene cried dramatically.

“I deserve to see you capture my beauty!” Sirius collapsed in an exaggerated performance and you couldn’t decide whether you were amused or embarrassed, giggling and hiding your face in Remus’ shoulder. He merely pat you on the shoulder, shooting you a fond gaze you couldn’t see. James caught it though, and smirked in a way that Remus knew he was about to be embarrassed.

“Have you drawn Moony?” He asked, and you both looked at him suddenly.

“Prongs, don’t,” Remus said sternly, then turning to you, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer… I know they must ruin the picture.” He gestured down to his scars. You just looked at him for a moment, utterly baffled.

“As if some silly scars would stop me from drawing you,” You said, a sweet smile on your lips, “You’re my biggest inspiration, Moony.” He blushed at that but the rest of your friends tactfully ignored it, though the boys shot him some shit-eating looks.

It was probably true that you drew Remus the most, but it was only because you spent the most time with him! Or, that’s what you told yourself anyway. Remus Lupin was your best friend in the world, and you loved him more than anything. Since you were always together and hanging out, clearly you’d draw him more, it was perfectly natural!

Your study sessions together in the library often devolved quickly, essays abandoned to the side, both of you falling into chatter as you studied and sketched him.

“What’re you drawing, dove?” He’d always ask, knowing you’d never tell. You’d simply press your lips into a cheeky smile, shaking your head resolutely.

“Uh-uh,” You’d say, “An artist never reveals her secrets.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s magicians, stupid,” He laughed, running a hand through his curls.

“Oh,” You frowned, “Well I’m that too, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” He snorted, “Your essays are more doodles than writing.”

“Hey, Slughorn gave me a whole extra mark for the portrait I drew last week, so none of that.”

Or you’d follow him out of the pub you were all in when Remus needed a smoke, sitting on the blacked out window ledge as he lit up. You thought he might have been the most beautiful person in the world when he smoked, the way the lighter brought out the gold flecks in his eyes and hair and the shadows of night emphasised his unreal bone structure. You’d probably drawn him in that exact scenario hundreds of times, but it wasn’t your fault he looked like a fallen angel. When he leaned over to give you a puff you took it gratefully, if only for the proximity. You weren’t much of a smoker, but for Remus you’d let your lungs rot.

It was moments like that where you’d wonder what it would be like to kiss him, lean past the cigarette and put your mouth on his. Sometimes you thought he wanted it too, the way he’d get slightly too close for best friends, his own hand being the one to stick the dart into your mouth, sometimes so close your lips brushed his fingers. Moments like that made you wonder if he loved you back. Then later, when everyone was drunker, you’d see him stick his tongue down some prettier girl’s throat and you’d remember your place as his best friend. If it stung you tried not to show it, letting some sleazy guy a few years older than you buy you drinks until Peter told you it was time to leave.

Still, you were mostly alright with just being friends with Remus. You still got most of the benefits; his conversation, his dry humour, the ability to look at his gorgeous face. Who needed everything else? Plus, you could draw him whenever you wanted, doing whatever you wanted — not in a weird way. Mostly. You still would never admit that you’d drawn him holding your hand, or kissing you, or other things you desired… The magic of art, right?

After years of bugging, you finally submitted to your friends constant nagging. The day that you officially graduated Hogwarts was an emotional one. Seven years of constant laughter and magic (both literal and the sentimental kind) were over, and the world seemed too large and intimidating compared to the familiar walls of your school. Yet there was no stopping it, and you were all Hogwarts graduates.

While all your parents cried and reminisced over coffee in the Great Hall, your friends had gone for one last deep conversation by the Black Lake. Discussions of the future were unavoidable, but were mostly positive. Talks of trips you’d take, apartments you’d live in and hell you’d raise. When you all quietened down slightly, struck by it being the last time you’d sit in front of the lake, you cleared your throat.

“Um, I have something for you guys, a graduation gift.” From your purse you pulled the envelopes, all filled with fancy cardstock from the art shop near your family home. You’d drawn a simple grey-lead portrait of each of your friends, framed with a little message of congratulations. You watched anxiously as they each opened the envelopes, nervous all the hype would make the art seem inconsequential. Your fear couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Sirius gasped dramatically as he saw what it was, but a genuine smile followed straight after. James burst straight into tears, hardly getting the picture all the way out. You could tell Lily was trying not to follow, but seeing her boyfriend cry set off the waterworks for her. Marlene and Mary were inspecting the others, pointing out the little details you’d put in, like Mary’s favourite daisy earrings or the slit Marlene had impulsively shaved into her eyebrow only a few weeks before. Peter was bright pink, flattered to the highest degree. Remus was hard to read, simply staring at you with the strangest look in his eye. You couldn’t ask him about it though, being ambushed with hugs from every direction.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this talent from us,” Peter said, the rest agreeing.

“Didn’t know we had our very own Da Vinci hiding behind a Gryffindor tie,” Marlene added, making you blush and grin.

You dreaded to imagine what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective, the eight of you teary, sweaty messes all piled on top of each other. Well, seven of you.

“Come on, Moony,” James called in a sing-song voice, “If you can’t submit to a hug at our graduation I am going to give you the biggest, slobberiest kiss and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You look like absolute wankers,” Was all he said, but joined the pile nonetheless, and you were extra glad he was mainly holding on to you. When you all finally pulled away it was minutes later, but the whole thing was strangely cathartic.

“We all have to promise that we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” Mary said, putting her pinky finger out. The rest of you agreed, sticking your pinkies in for a very convoluted eight way promise. With that sorted your friends started heading back up the hill to the school building, ready to leave Hogwarts forever and prepare for a long night of heavy drinking. Remus held you back. James sent you a suggestive glance when he noticed but left it that, drawing Lily in for a bittersweet kiss.

You turned to Remus, only for his eyes to be locked on the portrait. You’d spent so much time trying to get it perfect for him, practising the stupid knot he insisted on tying every day despite the rest of the school going with a less convoluted method of wearing their ties.

“Do you like it?” You asked, subconsciously twisting your ring around your pointer finger. Remus let out a half laugh.

“I love it, honest. It’s insane, really. That you can make this just like that. It’s just…” You searched his eyes for the rest of the sentence. “You make me look…” He didn’t finish but you knew immediately what he meant. Remus hated looking at himself, training his eyes down in the bathroom and opting to always be the photographer so he didn’t have to see himself in the final product. You knew of course it was because of his scars, but you genuinely couldn’t believe he thought they were ugly, much less made him ugly.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, just once,” You sighed, grabbing his free hand and interlocking your fingers, leading him back to where the others were waiting.

Four years out of Hogwarts and you’d all kept your promise. Of course you didn’t see each other quite as much as the boarding school schedule allowed, but the boys all had an apartment together which brought you together often enough — except James and Lily who were married and had moved down to Godric’s Hollow to raise baby Harry. That similarly brought you all to meet often, all determined to spoil Harry as his aunts and uncles.

You weren’t a full-time artist professionally, though you still did it just as much. You’d evolved to paints by then; living with a muggle because the rent was cheap had the added bonus of not having to worry about leaving your paintings on the easel since you didn’t really care what they thought about your art anyway.

Your friends were all huddled in the boys’ apartment living room, every seat taken as you all caught up. You were on the couch with Remus, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair as his head rested on your lap. You still weren’t dating, but Lily always said you might as well have been. You laughed her off every time — if he hadn’t said anything by now how could he feel the same way? You tried to pretend it didn’t still sting.

You’d tried dating, Remus too. He’d had countless partners since you’d finished school — even more one night stands. Nothing lasted more than a few months. You’d done slightly better, you made it about a year with some bloke that Remus hated before he revealed himself as a colossal dickhead, and you’d been mostly single since.

The group was trying to organise their next meeting.

“What about the movies next Friday? I wanna see that new muggle film, Knife Runner,” James suggested and you and Remus both snorted.

“Blade Runner, love,” Lily corrected with a giggle and James burst out laughing, making a quick joke at his own expense. You’d dug your planner out of your purse to check your availability and frowned, closing the book quickly.

“I can’t do next Friday, sorry, how about Saturday?”

“And what plans have you got on a Friday night, you minx?” Mary asked with wiggling eyebrows. Even Remus looked interested, which made your heart stutter.

“Just a work thing,” You answered quickly, not wanting to reveal the real reason.

“You lie like a rug!” Marlene yelled, sitting up from her spot on the floor. You winced, you shouldn’t have made an excuse that she could so easily disprove, being in the same department of the ministry. “What plans are you too embarrassed to tell us about, slag?” You laughed shortly, their assumptions were so completely off.

“It’s not what you think—”

“Not what you think my arse, who’s ‘Davis Show’ and why is he surrounded by hearts, you absolute tart!” Sirius cried, displaying the planner for everyone to see. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, wheezing as you looked at your friends’ faux-scandalised expressions.

“Look you twats, Davis Show isn’t a man. I’ve been invited to put my art in a show at the Davis Gallery down on Welking Road next week. I can assure you I’m not shagging a man named Davis.”

The whiplash was immediate, the gossip sniffing exchanged for celebrations, you couldn’t tell whose yelling was whose. Peter immediately ran to the kitchen for a bottle of champagne, passing glasses around the room. When the initial excitement wore down you were subjected to a million questions, and tried to answer each of them patiently.

“I can’t believe you weren’t gonna tell us,” Mary pouted and you sighed.

“You know how I get about my art,” You explained, “It’s not that I don’t love you all, obviously, it just makes me so nervous thinking about you guys all seeing my stuff.”

“You know we’re all coming now, right?” James said, wiping his glasses where the champagne bubbles had created smudges.

“You really don’t have to,” You put in quickly, “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Why won’t you let us appreciate you?” Marlene whined.

“It’s just, my art is like an extension of my soul. I don’t think I’d be able to recover if you didn’t think it was good.” Your friends grew rowdy at that, offended you’d even think they wouldn’t adore your art no matter what. You felt Remus put a hand on your thigh and gave him a weak smile, knowing he’d shut down the conversation if you wanted him to. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing though, especially when everyone was being so supportive. You figured everyone was so busy they’d forget it by the next week anyway.

Friday came, and you were a wreck of nerves. Although you’d sold pieces here and there throughout the years, this show would be the first time your art would be displayed as a collective, and you were terrified of rejection.

You’d figured your friends weren’t actually coming since none of them had really mentioned anything since. Apart from Lily, of course, who’d sent an owl to your desk that morning with a sweet good luck note and your favourite chocolate.

Even Remus hadn’t said anything when you went for coffee on your lunch break. That did puzzle you, you knew he would never go if he thought it would make you uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like him as your best friend to forget something so monumental in your life. You thought he was acting kind of weird though, more affectionate than he usually was. He kept looking at you longer than he should, and you wondered if you’d miscounted how far away the next full moon was. When you asked him about it he just brushed it off, looking down at his tea instead like he’d been caught.

“I love you,” He said and you laughed.

“I love you too, Lupin!” You cooed, patting him softly on the hand.

“You’re amazing, you know?” You arched a brow.

“What are you trying to make up for?” You asked suspiciously, giving him a once over to search for answers.

“Nothing, promise,” He smiled in a way that made your knees a little weak, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“You’re gonna give me an ego,” You grumbled, packing up your things to get back to work. As you parted ways he pressed a kiss down to your cheek and you stumbled. Remus was never this affectionate as a person — a pat on the back, a hug if you needed one, yes, but he was never one for casual platonic kisses. You figured it must have been his way to apologise for not coming to the art show? But he knew you didn’t mind, so what was he apologising for? You tried to shake it off and get back to work, but you couldn’t get your closeness out of your head.

Evening fell and you were setting up your stall before the other patrons came in. Rearranging the paintings until you were pretty much perfectly happy, you looked around, still not fully believing you were really here. People were filtering in, well dressed and chattering softly as young waiters handed out flutes of champagne. You straightened out your silky black skirt in an effort to look more presentable, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

At first things were slow, and you almost regretted not inviting your friends, if only so they could make your area look more interesting. And once you let that thought in, you kind of regretted not inviting them anyway. After all, they were the dearest people in your life and this was such a meaningful event to you.

You couldn’t think about that for long though since people had begun to filter over to you, making polite small talk as they admired your paintings. You tried to be energetic, smiling widely if you ever locked eyes with someone. However, deep down, you just wanted your friends.

A little old woman approached you for a while, wanting to know the meaning behind basically every painting and you told her happily, sharing the memories that inspired each work.

“Seems like you’ve got some true friends,” She said, “I hope you keep them close.” You agreed, thanking her profusely as she bought a landscape of the Whomping Willow.

It was growing closer and closer to closing, and honestly, it had been a wonderful night. Seeing the way that people reacted and interacted with your art was a magical experience, and changed the way you thought about it entirely. You decided that if you ever got the opportunity again, you’d want to share it with everyone else.

You were just moving to start packing up when you heard a myriad of gasps.

“What the fuck, dude?” The unmistakeable voice of Marlene McKinnon said from behind you. You whipped around to meet them, breaking into a cheek splitting smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, rushing over to scoop them all up into a hug.

“Fuck that, why didn’t you tell us that we’re your exhibition?” Sirius cried, running up to examine the paintings more clearly.

“And that they’re literally professional?” Peter added, eyes wide in wonder. You flushed red under their praise. If your friends thought your pencil portraits were good, they were nothing compared to your paintings.

Plus, every one of them was of your friends, or something sentimental to you all. Landscapes of Hogwarts, portraits of your friends, captured memories of long summer days, or life sketches from when you were all together. You watched them observe the paintings with nervous excitement, loving as they gave specific, personal compliments that only people who truly knew you could give.

“This our apartment,” Sirius said, pointing to one of your biggest pieces, “That’s our couch, the pillow Prongs has permanently ruined with butterbeer, that’s Moony!”

“There are a lot of paintings of Moony, aren’t there?” James whispered to you, wiggling his eyebrows. You flushed again. Sirius continued on, seeming (or pretending) not to have heard.

“We have to have this in the flat. Right boys?” Your eyes widened.

“Really?”

“For sure,” Peter said, “I’m buying this one too.” He gestured to one of him and James playing chess in the Gryffindor common room.

“And this is taking pride of place at home.” James pointed to a portrait of his and Lily’s wedding, and Lily similarly chose one of her and baby Harry. Marlene took one of her and Mary on the beach and Mary took one of the group at a house party. Half your paintings ended up being sold by the end of the night, and you couldn’t feel luckier. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Remus, who couldn’t keep his eyes off the paintings.

You shooed your friends out of the gallery once it really was closing time, and got to work packing away your things. You were deep in thought, reflecting on the wild day when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Remus, and he moved to help you put your things away, stacking the paintings between bubble wrap to protect them.

“These are really beautiful,” He said, “I mean, we knew you were talented but… these are seriously on another level.”

“Thanks, Remus.” You smiled, unable to make eye contact as you watched him handle all the paintings you’d done of him. Portraits like the others, but also studies of his hands — god you were obsessed with his hands — his profile, and one less than innocent picture of his back, scars resting over muscles. You probably shouldn’t have put that one out, but to be fair you didn’t know he’d see it.

There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Not uncomfortable, per se, but there were definitely things you both wanted to say that neither knew how to.

“Let me drive you home,” Remus settled on and you nodded, letting him help you load your work into the boot of his car. You sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on the dashboard to whatever radio station Remus had turned on. Remus stared straight ahead, knuckles pulled tight around the steering wheel.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. This whole show was incredible.” You went to thank him again but he kept talking. “I just wanted to know, um, there were a lot of paintings of me. I was just wondering why, why me?” You hesitated, unsure of what was going to come out of your mouth.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You decided on with a bit of a sigh.

“You’ve said that before, what does that mean?” Your breath hitched. You definitely didn’t intend for it all to come out tonight, but if you didn’t say it now you doubted you ever would.

“You are the most beautiful person I know, Remus. I mean, even aside from your personality — which we know I have to be at least somewhat a fan of after all these years — you’re totally fit. Your eyes, your hair, God, your fucking bone structure, you’re literally a walking renaissance painting. And I know you think your scars make you ugly, but you don’t know how turned on I get thinking about how they’d feel on my skin.” Shit, you probably should’ve stopped talking.

You hadn’t realised he’d parked while you were rambling, but now you were sitting outside his apartment and he was looking at you with eyes that looked more like the wolf than him.

“I turn you on?” He whispered, voice suddenly gravelly as he leaned closer in to you.

“More than anything,” You breathed, brain buffering at the feeling of his breath on your face. Suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and electric and not at all gentle. It felt like years of pent up frustration being let out all at once, and if he was anything like you, it probably was.

“Up,” He mumbled between kisses and you heard him undoing his seatbelt, hurrying to do the same. You barely disconnected to get out of the car, attaching yourself to his arm as he led the way up to the boys’ flat.

You made it up the three flights of stairs, not without Remus pushing you up against the stairwell wall to stick his tongue in your mouth, and stumbled straight into his bedroom, shedding layers as soon as the door was safely shut.

The next morning you awoke first, initially convinced you were dreaming when you saw him lying peacefully beside you. Eventually you rolled onto your side, ready to get out of bed for a glass of water when his nightstand caught your eye. There, in pride of place, was your graduation portrait of him, with a polaroid of the two of you stuck to the corner. Maybe he really had liked you as long as you’d liked him.

[sh1-n0bu]

Congrats!!! You're my new fav scara writer, anyways. I want to fuck scaramouche so hard he's mf SCREAMING, imagine he was being very naughty and needy in public acting like a lil bitch in heat, AND WE PUNISH HIM 😈😈😈

♡︎ 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙩 ♡︎

characters: sub!scaramouche x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, dacryphillia, degrading, praise, marking, creampie, rough sex, of course cock can be interpreted as a strap on

notes: this one was less kinkier than my other smuts but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna be soft👍

also woziehrjsbbzbxjsbbs IM UR NEW FAV SCARA WRITER😭😭 NOBODY TOUCH ME IM SOFT RN

poor little scaramouche, tasting the consequences of his own action yet still trying to run away from it. his small, pristine body trembling and twitching, dark love bites and teeth mark blemishing his perfect skin - but he didn’t mind.

he was so sensitive, even a small breath of air being blown into the crook of his neck would cause him to jolt and whimper like a useless whore. your precious whore.

trying to catch his breath and to get his bearings back, scaramouche laid there on the bed, all red and cum dripping from his hole and down his shaking thighs. that wasn’t good. your sweet boy can’t go wasting the cum you filled him up to the brim with!

“[NAM-]!!” suddenly feeling you start to move again, scaramouche tried to get away. whining and writhing under you, clawing at the sheets, choking on his own moans and screams of pleasure.

“we’re not done yet baby boy. it’s not over until i’m satisfied with filling you up and until you learn your lesson” scaramouche felt like his mind was gonna blank. he came way too times already to the point his cum is now nothing but a translucent color! you even fucked him raw, he can’t take it!

pinning his hands down to the bed and continuing to ram into his sloppy hole, creating more squishy, wet and filthy noises you leaned down to bite at the small juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“[name]! n-nO NO NOT THER-!! MFFGH GYAAAFH♡︎♡︎!!” silly little slut. cumming from just a single bite like that. but it’s okay. you’re a patient lover and you will be sure to teach scara his lesson.

rutting into the soft spot in him that makes him scream, your hand reached down between scaramouche’s shaking bite covered thighs, teasing the slit of his small cock.

“you sound so good precious. again. cum for me again” you demanded. jerking him off while fucking into his sweet spot causing scara to sob loudly with his pretty blue eyes rolled to the back of his skull. mouth hanging open with drool slipping down his chin, face so flushed to the point it even reached his shoulders and globs of fat tears rushing down his cheeks.

ah he was so pretty like this. so perfectly ruined and fucked stupid.

scaramouche sobbed out. whining about who knows what, words of “good — feelssh sho good♡︎♡︎“ slurring out of his mouth. soon his legs gave out from under him but you can't have him giving up now.

ruthlessly pulling his waist back up again, you held scaramouche’s waist, sure to leave a bruise with how hard you’re gripping the flesh, continuing to thrust into him.

scaramouche soon came over the sheets with a sudden loud wail, small hands clawing at the pillows, hips twitching, thighs shaking. he was just so cute like this♡︎. surely your darling whore can go a few more rounds?

[parkerluvsu]

oh god I’m so obsessed with divorced dilf!Art 🫠🫠🫠 need him to ignore Lily’s cute babysitter flirting with him because he just can��t believe it that someone so young and pretty would be into him🥲but after a certain point he just cant take it anymore🫠🩷

yes omg.. dilf! art is so yummy ugh.. (im in the mood for something fluffier rn so this is mostly just sweet 😭 working on a smuttier fic tho!!)

his time with lily is precious, and as much as he'd like to spend all of it together, he is still a professional tennis player, and he doesn't want lily running to her mom saying how she gets bored when she stays with art, so he hires a babysitter. scrolling through the profiles of babysitters in town you're obviously the most qualified (but he won't deny that the butterflies in his stomach when he saw your picture may have influenced his decision). luckily, you live up to his expectations, and lily loves you immediately, always asking art when you're gonna come over (he worries that she likes you more than her own dad), but he's happy, happier than he's been in a while, and he can only credit you for that. you're around him for about a month when things start to change, your hand lingers on his when you take the payment for the day, your hands find his broad shoulders and squeeze them when you walk by, and whenever art finds time to look over at you and lily, you're always looking at him first. art is no longer a young tennis academy boy, he knows how you feel about him, and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't feel the same way. seeing how you are with lily tugs at his heartstrings, the scene of him coming home to find you and lily playing on the living room floor feeling much more domestic than anything he felt when he was married. however much bliss he feels around you, he knows that you could find someone better, someone your own age to spend time with. the downsides of not being a young athlete have caught up to him, more and more gray hairs popping up and his back getting sore quicker than he remembers. you don't mind though, you treat him like he's young, always inviting him to play with you and lily, making him wear silly hats and awful makeup done by his daughter.

eventually it's just too much to take, he can't handle being around you anymore without you knowing how he feels. he's a gentleman though, sitting you down after you put lily to bed, a cute blush on the tips of his ears. he tells you that he'd like to take you out on a proper date, to see you outside of his home and outside of your job. the date he takes you on is truly extravagant, better than any one you've gone on before, he picks you up from your apartment in a fancy black suv, opening the door for you and driving to the restaurant with a hand on your thigh. he buys the most expensive champagne they have, toasting with you over your good work. he's pretty quiet the whole night, letting you talk and share about yourself, committing every little detail to memory, even the small things, your favorite color, the name of your childhood pet and the hobbies you like to do. by the end of the night you're comfortably tipsy, walking hand in hand with him through the city, giggling at each other. art drops you off at your apartment, walking you to your door with a large hand on the small of your back. you shyly invite him in and he accepts, his tall frame looking comically out of place in your small apartment. you sit him down on the couch as you two talk the night away, both if you scooting closer to each other under the guise of "getting more comfortable". arts hand, that started gently touching your knee has gently climbed up to your inner thigh, casually enough that you don't notice, blissfully talking to him like you've been friends for years. seeing art outside of work is refreshing, he's less wound up, he smiles more, and you cant stop yourself from leaning in and kissing him, not even caring that he was in the middle of a sentence. your heart jumps into your throat when he reciprocates, his surprisingly soft lips working in tandem with yours. arts large hands come to cup your face, pulling you closer towards him. he can't remember the last time he had a kiss so romantic, his hands getting slightly sweaty with nerves. pulling away, the both of you are flushed with excitement, the feeling of a new and budding romance buzzing between you. art doesn't want to go any further with you that night, politely explaining that you're too important to him for him to rush things. kissing him again before he leaves, you wave goodbye, going back up to your apartment and flopping onto your bed, head still in the clouds from the passionate kiss you shared with art.

waking up at your usual time the next day you get ready for work, pulling on your shoes and heading out the door, you're met with a surprise. a beautiful large vase of red and pink roses sits on your doormat, a card resting on top. "i hope you like the flowers, they were the best i could get on short notice. i really did enjoy our date last night, you're a beautiful person, inside and out. i thought you could take a day off of work as a treat, im sure lily can spend a day with her dad instead of her babysitter :) i set you up with a spa appointment at 2, just say my name at the front desk and they'll know what to do. if it's not too presumptuous of me, ill pick you up tonight at 8 for another date. looking forward to seeing you. yours truly, art."

[pixeltwix]

{The Disconnect & The Spiral}

(I realize this isn’t my usual content, but hear me out, the rekindled GF fixation is going hard rn)

- -As an avid fan of Gravity Falls and an even bigger fan of the tragic old man lore packed into the mystery trio, I honestly gotta say..

I refuse to believe this is the full story towards WHY Fiddleford and his wife had a whole blasted argument over…him forgetting to get her a Christmas present?? Upon reading this section, I can frankly say I had a similar reaction to Ford. The immediate sense of, ‘really? That’s it? Your family reunion was torn up over that?’

I mean- your husbands been gone for lord knows how long, your young son also hasn’t seen him in ages, and let’s be honest- with how much trauma the ole hillbilly is stacking up on a day to day through his adventuring with Ford, how often is he actually able to call home or write a letter with a sound mind?

It just doesn’t feel feasible that a man who started this journey so troubled and in yearning to return home to family would be so forgetful as to not scrimmage up not even a souvenir or postcard from Gravity Falls for his family. So what is it then? Perhaps he’s become so averse to everything in the small town he wouldn’t dare bring a trace of it home with him, or rather, he truly had forgotten some small one off promise he made. Perhaps he’s forgotten a lot by this point-

Because of lack of dates on a majority of his entries it’s a little difficult to put together a timeline of when Fiddleford finished his memory wipe gun and when he started using it. By all means he racked up a lot of memories he wished to forget in the beginning being as quote ‘weak minded’ as he is. But then of course we all know he becomes addicted to quite literally erasing every little inconvenience until of course the end result. The freedom of a clear mind outweighing all consequences for him.

Instead however I choose to believe these were the first persisting side effects of his machine. We know enough about it now to get the fair suggestion that even one use of the memory wipe gun can be more damaging than can truly be discerned, so seeing as he quite possibly has used it at least twice by now- both events he used them for being extensive (the shifty incident and the gremloblin incident cited in journal 3) I believe it only fair to assume this quoted argument he got into with Emma-May was hardly over one measly little present. True, we have no frame of this woman much less the rest of the family (minus what we get of Tate once he’s grown), but I am TRULY giving her the benefit of the doubt in believing her husbands mind has begun to scatter in ways he didn’t even realize. So much to the point that a fight possibly fueled by ‘it’s not just about the Christmas present, it’s about ————“ would truly confuse him

I say that in the kindest way, I love Fiddleford, truly he’s the most tragic character in my mind regarding this story, but the man’s self destruction and drift from his family had to have started somewhere. And just like any addiction that can tear a family apart, this one was definitely packing punches. I realize I don’t have much backing, and I’m really just rambling some nonsense, but Alex Hirsch just doesn’t feel like one to write a one off ‘oh by the way this silly reason is why Fidds is alone from his family for the holidays, something he clearly holds a deep fondness for’. Nah, that man is too cryptic for him to write something like that and for me to not overthink it <3

(But with all that said and done- dear god the snow globe cabin and the knitted six fingered gloves literally killed me- that hillbilly is such a damn sweetheart, it can almost make me ignore the doom that will befall him and the town <3!!)

[ticklishfiend]

The Gaang Gets Zuko (ATLA)

lee!zuko , ler!gaang :P

A/N : im having sooo much fun with this show rn, esp having fun attacking zuko as much as possible LOL im going bonkers. there’s no clear story or plot in this one, just the gaang being silly and zuko getting to be silly with them :P

Summary : separate short stories of each member of the gaang tickling zuko (and one where Zuko actually gets one back, read to find out who hehe)

Word Count : 5139

hope u enjoy!! <3

-

It was strange how relaxed Zuko was starting to feel. The air seemed easier to breathe these days, despite everything he knew they were all about to go through. But that’s just it. Zuko knows he’s not alone. He has people, good people, behind him. Though he misses his Uncle greatly, it keeps Zuko motivated to know Iroh would be proud to see how far he’s come since they’d been separated.

Things are looking up, despite it all, and Zuko’s especially happy he gets to feel that in good company.

“So, like this, right?” Aang asked, getting into position for the new firebending move Zuko’s trying to teach him. 

“Um…not quite,” Zuko walked behind him, grabbing his shoulders to gently adjust his stance. “You want your shoulders back a little more, it’ll help your balance. And you should have your waist turned a bit to the side, like this…” Zuko gently gripped onto Aang’s sides, but was startled at how quickly Aang jumped away with a surprised laugh.

“Aaah–tickles, tickles!” Aang giggled, rubbing the sensation away with his arms.

Zuko frowned with his hands on his hips, “Seriously? I barely touched you.”

Katara snickered as she watched them train, bending water in the air lazily like a fidget. “Aang’s more sensitive than most. Remember that wound your sister gave him on his foot? Yeah, that took way, way longer than it should have. He wouldn’t stop squirming.”

“It’s not my fault your water’s so tickly!” Aang cringed at the memory. He took a deep breath before turning back to Zuko, getting into position. “Okay, I’m ready this time. You just surprised me.”

Zuko lifted an eyebrow before trying again, this time with less giggly results. Zuko wasn’t used to such silliness when it came to training, but it was endearing to see Aang was comfortable enough with him to act like that (even if it was slightly annoying).

They trained for another 15 or so minutes before Zuko called for a break, ready for his pre-lunch meditation. He leaned down to gather some of his scattered things into a bag, not noticing the figure creeping up behind him. Before he knew it, Zuko felt two hands give quick pinches to his hip. “AH-! Ggghaha-!” a strangled giggle fell out of him before he could stop it, squirming out of the grip and whipping his body around.

Aang stood behind him with a grin and hands raised in surrender, “Sorry, I had to get you back for earlier.”

Zuko scowled with a pink face, trying very hard to ignore Katara giggling behind Aang. “But I wasn’t even trying to tickle you earlier,” he groaned, turning back around but keeping his guard up. “It’s unfair catching me off guard like that.”

“Yeah, but you gotta admit, that sound you just made was pretty funny,” Aang snickered, sitting down next to Katara and stealing some of her water to fidget with as well. 

Zuko sighed, turning around to hide his warm face. “Whatever, I’m gonna meditate. Don’t bother me unless it’s for lunch,” he said before walking out of their view to his normal meditation spot.

-

Zuko was sat on his bed reading a book Uncle had given him forever ago. Being on the run meant he never really had time to just sit and read (and maybe it was partly his pride that wouldn’t allow him to do something he deemed so lazy), but honestly it wasn’t half bad. Sure, he could be training right now, but everyone else seemed content doing their own thing so maybe that was okay for him too. Uncle always said proper relaxation was an important tool for a warrior to learn.

His reading time, however, was cut short when he heard a knock at his doorway. Zuko looked up to see Sokka peeking his head around the corner.

“You need something?” Zuko asked, sitting his book down on the bed.

“Well, I–uh…” Sokka cleared his throat shuffling awkwardly in the doorway. “I was just wondering if you would, uh–help me out with something? It’s nothing major! You really don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with, y’know, training the Avatar and everything, but like, I mean, if you maybe had the time–”

“Sokka,” Zuko interrupted his ramblings, holding the book up for him to see. “I’m not exactly doing anything important right now. I can do you a favor if you need it.”

Sokka sighed, “Okay, that’s good to hear because I really need your help right now,” he shuffled into Zuko’s room defeatedly, plopping himself next to the prince and throwing his head in his hands. “I think I sorta suck at hand-to-hand combat.”

Zuko nearly laughed at that. “Are you serious? You guys managed to take out every team I threw at you, and you think you’re bad at combat?”

“Yeah, but that was when I had everybody with me! You know, benders?!” Sokka sighed, “I’m not a bender, so having them with me to fight is like, insanely helpful. But…what if I end up alone at the next battle? What if I lose my sword? I’ll be useless! I need to know how to fight with my fists at least a little before we go out there.”

All this did was confuse Zuko even more. “Your girlfriend is a Kyoshi Warrior. Why aren’t you asking her for help? She’s the only other non-bender on the team, it seems pretty obvious.”

Sokka blushed and turned his head away, “Well that’s…actually part of it,” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “She’s so good at combat. And she’s a great teacher, don’t get me wrong! Everything I know about fighting, it came from her. But…I feel so stupid. We spar all the time, but she’s the one teaching me the moves, she knows what strategy I’m gonna take! I kinda…I wanna impress her during our next spar. Maybe show her something she hasn’t seen me do before,” Sokka looked up at Zuko with an unsure face. “I thought maybe you could teach me a thing or two?”

Zuko just stared for a moment, thinking it over. Sokka had that puppy-dog look on his face he always gets when he’s trying to win someone over…unfortunately for Zuko, he’s really good at that face. 

Zuko sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before standing and making his way towards the door. “I can’t promise it’ll help you any. I’m better at fighting with my bending than just plain combat. You’re already in good hands with Suki.”

Sokka jumped up, following behind Zuko like a puppy. “I know, but I just wanna see if it helps,” he wrapped an arm around the back of Zuko’s neck as they walked, the boy in question not acknowledging the touch whatsoever. “Can’t hurt to try, right?”

Zuko peeked an eye towards Sokka. “Whatever.”

They found an open area to spar, somewhere away from everyone else so no one could spill the “secret” to Suki. Not like anyone actually cared, but Sokka insisted this was the best move to make. 

They fought for a while, Sokka showing off the moves he learned from Suki, and Zuko trying to teach him anything that popped into his head that Sokka might not already know. But…the spar wasn’t really turning out the way Zuko had envisioned before they started.

Sokka was actually really good at this. Like, stupid good. Way better than he had given himself credit for just about an hour ago. He’d already pinned Zuko probably 5 times, and Zuko only got him down once. It was sorta embarrassing. Zuko kept reminding himself that the guy had been trained by a literal Kyoshi warrior, so it shouldn’t be that surprising.

Still, though. It did take a tiny blow to his ego that the guy asking him for training was practically kicking his butt right now.

“Woohoo! Down for the count again!” Sokka whooped from behind Zuko. The boy was pinned on his front, arms behind his back.

“I thought you wanted help,” Zuko wheezed, twisting his wrists in Sokka’s hold to no avail. “Now it feels like you just wanted bragging rights,” he mumbled.

Sokka didn’t say anything. Actually, he just kept looking down at Zuko with this look. His eyes a little wide, his lips sucked behind his teeth. 

You’re kidding. You’re kidding.

“Are you serious?!” Zuko yelled, starting to actually fight under Sokka’s hold now that he felt thoroughly pissed off. “Why would you lie about that?! You could’ve just asked for a spar!”

Sokka stammered, “Well, I was serious at first! I wasn’t lying! I really did want your help!” He paused, baring his teeth a little in guilt. “Buuuut…after we started sparring, I realized I was way better than I thought I was. I don’t know why, but I just kinda figured you’d be able to take me down with no trouble! You’re like, royally trained or something, right?”

Zuko frowned, “Yeah. I am,” he said. “In firebending.”

Sokka’s brows shot up. “Oh yeaaaah. Didn’t really think about that,” he chuckled nervously.

A beat passed in silence before both of them realized Sokka was still on top of him. Zuko twisted his wrists in Sokka’s hands, “Well? Are you gonna get off me?”

“I don’t really trust you not to turn me into bacon right now.”

“Sokka.”

Sokka laughed, “Y’know, it’s kinda funny if you think about it. Last year I used to run from you, and now I’ve got you literally pinned under me. I mean, really, it just writes itself!”

Zuko groaned, pressing his forehead to the floor. “You are…beyond annoying.”

“I’m just saying, if I had all this Kyoshi training last year, we might not even be here right now. Or maybe you’d have joined our group back then, after seeing how much of an asset to the team I am!” Sokka teased, pressing his body weight against Zuko’s arms so he could flex a muscle in Zuko’s eyeshot. 

Then, Sokka went quiet for a moment. Suspiciously quiet. Zuko was not a fan of his disadvantage right now. 

“Hey, who’s that fire nation girl that’s always hanging around your sister? You know, the one that can paralyze people?”

Zuko sighed, “That would be Ty Lee. Get off.”

“Yeah, Ty Lee! Man, it’d be so cool if she wasn’t the worst,” Sokka adjusted his grip a bit, like he was trying to get a better hold for something. What in the world is he planning?! “I bet I could learn a thing or two from that girl, strengthen up my fighting style a bit,” Sokka shrugged, “Eh, I bet I could be self taught. I just gotta find the right nerve…”

Before Zuko could even process what he was talking about, Sokka started poking up and down Zuko’s open sides, using one finger to poke one side, then the other, then back again. Over and over and over. 

“G-GaAH!” Zuko’s body jumped under the assault, squirming under his hold. “N-No, Sokka, let me–gohoho!” He giggled involuntarily, trying his best to hide his face in the floor while also trying to jerk away from Sokka’s ticklish hold.

“No, hold on, I think I’m getting the hang of this!” Sokka teased, poking up into Zuko’s ribs. Zuko couldn’t help the squeaky giggles falling from his lips, it was mortifying. He kicked his legs out behind Sokka like it would do anything, but with how good the boy had gotten at these warrior pins, Zuko didn’t stand a chance.

“S-stohohop! This is sohoho–ahaha so stuhupid!” Zuko cackled, writhing when he felt Sokka start pinching at his bony ribs. He could feel his face growing warmer by the second, horribly embarrassed by how easily Sokka can drag him into his playful little games.

“Okay, okay, just oneeee more thing,” Sokka said before bringing his hand up to flutter soft fingers against Zuko’s neck and ears. Crapcrapcrapcrap that really tickles. Zuko immediately fell into the most disgusting, high-pitched, girly-ish giggles he’s ever produced. It. Was. Terrible.

“Nohoho! Come ohohon! This is–ahaha this is so unfahahair!” Zuko whined, pulling against the hands holding him hostage. “This is assahahault!”

Sokka cackled at that, finally letting go of his very ticklish victim. He stood and backed away enough to let Zuko catch his breath, wiping a mirthful tear from his eye.

“You–pfff!! You’re so ticklish! Who woulda guessed that?!” Sokka laughed, practically doubled over in it. Zuko grumbled on the ground, sitting up and stretching his arms.

“And you are so childish,” he groveled, before launching at Sokka while he wasn’t paying attention. He grabbed around the boy’s waist and brought him to the ground with an ‘oof!’, the pair roughing it out for a moment before Zuko got the upper hand (Sokka was still laughing too much to put up a real fight). On the ground, Zuko had him trapped in a reverse bear hug, finding an opening near Sokka’s stomach to dig his own fingers in and make Sokka howl.

“Say you’re sorry!” Zuko grunted, trying to avoid a head butt from Sokka’s frantic squirming. “Say it!”

“AAAHH! AAAHAhahaha! I’m–! I’m ssssahahahah!” Sokka cackled, struggling to find the words with fingers digging incessantly into his stomach. Even in his wild state, Sokka could tell Zuko wasn’t very used to this, his tickling-style a little more rough than what he’s used to with the others. But luckily for Zuko, Sokka was a little too ticklish for it to actually affect anything.

“What? You can dish it but you can’t take it?!” Zuko fired back with his usual angry tone, though it was really hard to take seriously when he started pinching at Sokka’s side so viciously. 

“I cahaha–! It’s tooohohohoo–! AAAHH-!" Sokka's screaming laugh echoed through the temple, his head jerking back and forth. Zuko's fingers were getting tired, and this whole thing felt so stupid, but it was the principle of the thing! This is...how it works, right?

Zuko kept tickling despite not really knowing what he was doing, avoiding flailing limbs and a jerking head all the while. And right, right before he was about to just call it quits, he heard a cough from just outside his peripheral.

The pair froze, Zuko feeling his entire face grow warm in the matter of seconds. They both turned their heads slowly to see Suki standing there with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in question.

"You two having fun in here?" Suki asked through a smile, clearly on the verge of laughing. Zuko dropped Sokka like a sack of potatoes, standing up quickly with a finger pointed right at Sokka.

“He started this! He attacked me first, but–but I got out! And then he started laughing, and, I mean–it was so stupid! This is so stupid!” Zuko yelled in embarrassment, throwing his hands up to cover his whole face.

Suki giggled and walked over towards her boyfriend on the ground. “Aw, did the big mean firebender get you?” She teased a frowning (and blushing) Sokka. Suki held out her hand to him, “Come on, get up.”

Sokka took it with a scowl, refusing to make eye contact with Zuko. At least, until Sokka remembered how this whole thing started, his whole demeanor lighting up in an instant. “Oh you’ll never believe this. I beat Zuko. In a spar,” he whooped, looking over towards the firebending to find him scowling with his arms crossed. “Actually, it was like ten!”

“Six. It was just six,” Zuko squinted at Sokka in contempt.

“Okay, but six is still a lot compared to your one win,” Sokka boasted, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.

Suki pulled herself out of his hold, “Uh, sure, but I think after what I saw, Zuko’s still the winner here,” she said, shooting an affirming smile Zuko’s way. 

Sokka dropped his jaw, “What?! But–But I beat him! Like, TONS of times?!” He exclaimed, “And I’m the one that started that! I tickled Zuko first, he totally went down!”

“When I was already pinned!” Zuko argued, angry he couldn’t make his blush fade any faster.

Suki sucked her teeth, “Sokka, if you started this, that’s even worse,” she shrugged. “You cheated. Zuko’s clearly the winner here, he just finished what you started” Suki pat Sokka’s back, shooting Zuko an empathetic look. “Sorry my boyfriend’s so childish. If you ever want a real spar, you know where to find me.”

Zuko looked surprised, really expecting her to tease him like everybody else did. “Oh, uh…yeah, whatever. Sure.”

Suki smiled, taking Sokka by the shoulders and walking him off. Zuko could hear her scolding as they walked away, “Next time we spar, I’ll show you how a real warrior cheats.”

Zuko wasn’t really sure how to take that. In fact, he decided it was probably best to ignore whatever that meant. Instead, he just grabbed his bag and tried forgetting this whole embarrassing mess ever happened.

–

“Zuko, I’m so sorry! I’m so so so sorry, I never meant for this to happen!” Aang practically cried behind Zuko, his words muffled under the hands he used to cover his mouth in guilt. “If you never wanna train me again, I’d understand. I just…I’m so sorry. I’m so—”

“Aang, it’s fine. I already told you it’s fine,” Zuko sighed, propping his bare foot up on the stool of earth Toph made for him. “Believe me, I’ve been burned way worse than this.”

“But that’s different!” Aang cried, falling on his butt to hide his face in his knees. “I can’t believe I burned someone. Again.”

“You’re still learning. It happens,” Zuko winced when Katara took hold of his ankle to get a better look at the burn. “Trust me, I burned a few of my trainers when I was growing up too. It’s just part of firebending. Once you’ve mastered it, you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Aang lifted his head with a sniffle. “Yeah…I guess you’re right,” he sighed. “Still feel bad, though.”

“As long as it doesn’t affect your training going further, I really don’t care,” Zuko shrugged, leaning back against his hands.

“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?” said Katara, popping the cork from her water bottle.

“Not really. I don’t care. I’m fine, and Aang will be too,” Zuko said, before gasping as Katara let the healing water wash over his feet. He jerked his foot back off the stool, making Katara raise an eyebrow.

“Zuko?” She looked down at the empty stool. “Kinda need your foot for this.”

Aang lit up, the smile finally returned to his face when he realized with a giggle, “I forgot! Zuko’s ticklish!”

“I am not! It just surprised me!” Zuko argued, throwing his foot back on the stool with confidence (though the pout he sported said otherwise).

Katara snickered, holding her water up so Zuko could see. “Well it’s a good thing you aren’t ticklish then, cause Aang could barely sit still last time I did this to him.”

“Yeah, Toph nearly had to earthbend my hands to the ground to keep me from moving,” Aang nodded, clearly feeling more chipper than a moment ago. Zuko cringed at the thought, shaking his head to clear it from overthinking.

“That will not be necessary,” Zuko huffed. “Just get to it, I’ll be fine. We need to get back to training.”

Katara shrugged, bringing the water to his foot and starting the healing process. Zuko immediately gasped again, his foot nearly jerking off the stool. He caught himself this time, but no one in the room missed the flinch.

Well, except for Toph, but only out of technicality’s sake.

“Your hearts racing, Sparky,” Toph sang, never missing an opportunity to tease their resident grump.

“Shut up, Toph,” Zuko said through bared teeth, straining himself to keep from letting a giggle slip. He squirmed in his seat, toes clenching and unclenching involuntarily. If he can just get through this without cracking, there’ll be nothing for these weirdos to tease him about. He can do this.

“Y’know, you should probably breathe soon. Don’t want you dying on us while I’m healing you,” Katara said, looking up from her water at Zuko’s puffed cheeks and pink face. He’d been too focused to even realize he was holding his breath in the first place. Slowly, Zuko exhaled through his nose before flinching hard again at a more solid sensation in the center of his foot.

“Grrk–!” Zuko jumped, scowling at Katara who started snickering.

“Sorry, my finger slipped,” she grinned, making the other two start giggling at his expense. 

“It’s really okay if you need to laugh, Zuko,” said Aang. “There’s no way I could’ve held it in like you are.”

“I said I’m fine. It doesn’t even…” Zuko huffed, the water finding a particularly sensitive spot right at the worst time possible, making him growl through a giggle. He shut his eyes tight, “Juhust shut up.”

–

At first, his days in the air on Appa were something Zuko wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He had to admit, it was definitely cool getting to ride a sky-bison thousands of feet in the air after he’d been told his whole life the species had gone extinct with the rest of the air-benders. There was some excitement to it the first couple rides he got to experience.

But after about the fifth time, it was really starting to get old.

“I thought I knew what boredom felt like when I was out camping with Uncle, but this is really something else,” Zuko groaned, throwing his head over the side of the saddle.

“Zukoooo, remember what I keep telling you about the positive attitude?” Aang reminded him from Appa’s head, steering the bison in what felt like the same direction for hours.

“No, he’s right. This is super boring,” Sokka whined, picking at Appa’s fur with a pout.

“Don’t you guys ever, I don’t know…play any games while you’re up here?” Zuko asked, feeling a little silly about it. Playing games was so childish, but it seemed to fit this group’s whole vibe pretty well. Couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Yeah we used to, until Toph took it too seriously one time and Katara banned fun,” Sokka shot a look at his sister, who scoffed at the mention.

“Um, I did not ban fun. I banned Pushies,” Katara corrected him with a squint.

“Ah, Pushies. The good ole days when having a laugh wasn’t forbidden by Her Highness,” said Toph, nearly making Katara blow a fuse.

Zuko hated to ask, but this was the most entertained he’d felt in the past two hours. With an incredulous look, he asked, “What’s Pushies?”

“It was the best,” Sokka sighed like he was daydreaming. “Toph and I would push each other back and forth until one of us got too scared and called quits.”

“Which I never did, by the way–”

“Uh, not true! You know you called quits that one time-”

“Because you nearly pushed me off Appa!”

“Not true AGAIN! You couldn’t see it, but you were totally fine-”

“Oh so because I’m blind it’s my fault they won’t let us play Pushies anymore?!”

“That’s not what I meant-!”

“GUYS!” Aang shouted, throwing a stern look over his shoulder towards the group. The pair went silent before both slouching back against the saddle. “No. Pushies.”

They both grumbled to themselves, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the fight. Zuko looked to the sky at their bickering, thankful his temper wasn’t like it used to be.

“Games other than Pushies exist, you know. We just have to make one up,” he suggested, sitting criss-crossed to face the group. 

“Did you play any games on that murder-ship you used to ride?” Katara asked with a tone, her mood clearly a bit dampened.

Zuko grimaced, “I was kinda too focused on capturing Aang for games back then.” Zuko sighed, throwing his head and arms back over the saddle to stare into the sky. “Forget it. Let’s just go back to sitting in silence.”

It seemed like the rest of the group agreed, because for the next few minutes that’s exactly what they did. The wind whistling in their ears was the only sound to focus on.

That is, until Zuko felt something tweak his side, making him squeak an awful sound. He whipped his head around to find everyone suspiciously not looking at him. Sokka picked at his fingers, Katara seemed a little too interested in the cloth of her dress, and Toph…well, she looked straight ahead, but that was to be expected.

Zuko fumed, “Who did that?”

Sokka looked up from his fingers, “Hm? Who did what?”

Oh, Zuko was so onto them. Pointing a finger at Sokka with a squint, “Don’t. Do it. Again.” He said sternly, before turning back around towards the sky. Zuko swore he could hear them snickering behind him, but hoped that would be the end of it.

Another minute went by with nothing, and for some reason Zuko really thought he evaded trouble with that intimidation move he pulled. Clearly he didn’t know this group well enough yet.

Another tweak to his side, this one closer to his ribs this time. Anything near his ribs always made him flinch hard, his elbow shooting down to cover the area with a giggly shout. Zuko growled when he faced them, “Seriously, who’s doing this?!” They all looked up at him like they were clueless. He’s gonna kill them. “Answer me!”

Finally, he heard Toph giggle, clearly unaffected by his little hissy fit. “It was me. Both times, actually,” she grinned, throwing a leg over her knee. “What, you gonna do something about it?”

Zuko’s jaw locked forward, feeling like he was breathing smoke out of his nose. His hands clenched beside him, telling himself it would probably not be the “right thing” throwing this twelve year old over the side of Appa.

With a grumble, he fixed his face and looked up to the sun above him. “You people are crazy.” Zuko crossed his arms and slumped against the saddle, decidedly not turning away from Toph this time. Everyone got a chuckle out of that, even Aang.

“No, I think Toph’s the crazy one,” he chuckled, smiling over his shoulder. “The rest of us are pretty normal, right?”

Zuko deadpanned Aang’s way. “No.”

Toph crawled over beside Zuko, who nearly flinched at her presence. “Lighten up, Sparky! Remember what Aang said? Positive attitude?” She accentuated Aang’s words with more tweaks to Zuko’s side, these far more ticklish now that she doesn’t have to hide it. Zuko jumped with a giggly shout, trying hard to hide his side with his elbow, but that just made Toph reach around his back to get his other side.

“Gah-! N-Nohoho!” He complained, pushing at her hands and face. “Quihit!”

“Cmooon I’m bored! This is the most entertained I’ve been in hours!” Toph tickled into Zuko’s ribs as she talked, making him fall over on his side in giggles. He kept pushing at her with his hands, but his stupid body kept betraying him, his elbows shooting down to cover the area too much to really fight back.

“Toph-! Tohohoph!” Zuko squealed, everyone around laughing at his funny noises. These people are the worst. “Gahaha! Get her ohoff mehehe!” He cackled, feeling her fingers vibrate into his ribs and stomach at the same time. Zuko’s eyes were scrunched tight in mirth, feeling silly and stupid and ticklish.

“This is too good. You sound like a girl!” Toph laughed, poking into his side like a typewriter. Zuko couldn’t stop giggling, flipping over on his stomach to crawl away (though he didn’t have much room, cramped on this stupid saddle with the rest of these freaks). He opted for crawling as close to Katara as he could get, praying she’d take pity on him and make Toph stop embarrassing him already.

Katara chuckled, “Okay, I think he’s had enough,” grabbing for Toph’s wrist (her hand still trying to worm it’s way under Zuko’s armpit) Katara pulled Toph away from Zuko as he slumped close to her side panting.

“Aweee, what?! I was just getting started!” Toph whined, making another grabbing motion in Zuko’s general direction that had him flinching with a squeak.

“You heard her, quit it!” Zuko griped, trying to silently maneuver himself as far from Toph as possible without her hearing. It was like a game of cat and mouse, Toph listening for any subtle sound Zuko made for her to launch her free arm in his direction, making him zip out of her reach before she could grab him. 

“Cut it out, this is ridiculous!” Zuko complained, getting behind Sokka and gripping his shoulders like a human shield. “Ha! How ‘bout that, shortstack?!” 

“Hey! Don’t rope me into this–AHH! NO! NONONOHohohoho!!” Sokka fell over on his side in giggles the moment Katara let go of Toph’s arm, the shorter girl launching for his sides.

“This’ll do for now!” Toph cheered, digging into Sokka’s waist with her rough fingers and making him howl. “I’ll catch you eventually, Sparky! Just wait til I’m finished with him!” she grinned wickedly, Sokka losing his mind just below her.

“But you already—! Gah, forget it,” Zuko sighed, crawling silently over beside Katara to hopefully avoid getting involved in that mess again. “She’s ruthless.”

Katara giggled, shooting Zuko a smile, “You get used to it.”

-

Zuko caught himself smiling at dinner. It was weird, usually when he smiled, it felt like an intentional move. Smiling to convince someone he’s happy, or smiling to fake innocence. But tonight…he started smiling before he even realized he was doing it.

Aang was telling some silly story from over 100 years ago, something from his childhood before all this. It was a stupid story, something Zuko would’ve found himself scoffing at if he had heard it even just a few months ago.

But things are good now. He felt good. Happiness came easy to him, like breathing or pulling fire from his hands. Zuko never thought he’d get to feel this again after everything he’d gone through, but these weirdos just had a way with him.

Something about these people, his friends, was always able to make him smile. They were annoying. They’re loud. They’re way too touchy, and always in his personal space. Like now, with Toph curled against his side as she laughed along to Aang’s story.

And yet? Zuko’s come to be okay with that. He’s come to like it about them, as crazy as it sounds. 

The fire he sat in front of now didn’t have to be a threat. It was home.

—

A/N : i was all over the place writing this LMAO hope yall like it anyways cause it was fun to write!! pls consider reblogging if u enjoyed!! <3

[yearningaces]

Any ideas floating around in your head rn? I’m not asking for a full story or anything but I’m curious if there’s anything about the monster partners you’ve created that you wanna talk about but don’t have enough on/in you rn to write a full story about

I have very many very complex ideas that I have tried answering this ask with but seem to have a difficult time doing so, so please accept this major word tossing I’m handing out 

During pride month no less 

There’s something wrong with your husband. 

He’s by no means harsh, or cruel, and he’s far from brushing you aside no matter the day. That’s never been the issue. 

The issue is that he’s acting far more attentive. Which feels ridiculous to complain about, especially considering how many people want their husbands to pay them more attention, you sometimes feel silly for even saying anything about it but... but- 

“Honey? Is something the matter?” There he goes again, ears perked up as your very human husband seems far too in tuned to the slightest change in your very heartbeat from across the house. You peer out the window into the rows and rows of homes that line the block. 

“I’m fine, Ethan.” Because it’s silly to say he’s too understanding of every little thing for some reason. 

Ethan has been beside you for nearly seven years and married for the last four. He’s always been loving and considerate, and steadfast beside you, as well as a smartass at times. You loved him so much. He loved you even more. 

But Ethan went missing three years ago. On March 8th he went missing three years ago. 

His body was found April 24th two years ago, decomposing and rotted in a shallow grave by a creek in the woods far away from your shared home. 

Three years ago, you pleaded with everything in you to have your husband back, two years ago you knew you were a widow.  

One year ago, something answered your heartfelt cries. 

Today you have no idea what you are, a spouse, a widower, a partner, a mourner.  

Because Ethan is sitting next to you now, the cushions under him give way to his weight, his hand grasps onto yours in a silent show of support as he rests his head against the top of yours. He’s warm, and solid, and smells like the earth after heavy rain for the first time in months. 

But he still has a gravestone that marks his death date. You still leave flowers sometimes. He never goes to the graveyard if he can avoid it, and when he does go it’s like you can only see him or the gravestone, never together, never at the same time, your mind just blurs one or the other out. 

Then again, when was the last time you looked at his face? Saw him? Ethan is sitting right beside you, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders, cuddling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple in nothing but pure loving affection for you.  

But you don’t even remember if you’ve looked at his face and seen him since he came back. 

You remember what he looks like, you remember what he feels like, sounds like, smells like, taste like, but is it memories you’re reliving or is he here despite his body being lain in a grave as peacefully as one could be? 

“Ethan?” 

“Mmh?” His voice is soft right now, lips still pressed to your temple before he relaxes and presumably looks down at you.  

“...” What do you say? He’s never mentioned what happened or how he’s here and you don’t want it to be some illusion that’s broken when you question it. “I love you,” Your words are uncertain in tone but sincere in meaning and you can feel Ethan squeeze you just a bit closer. Just a bit tighter. 

“I love you, too.” His response is simple yet so warm. 

He’s here, and maybe that’s enough.  

- 

Ethan is almost the same he was ‘before’ as you’ve taken to calling it. Before he went missing, before his body was found and buried, before you woke up that morning to find yourself in his arms, bundled in bed as if he’d always been there.  

The biggest difference though, is his diligence. He wanders the house nearly endlessly if he’s not preoccupied doing something with or for you. It’s almost like patrolling, you sat back in the kitchen one night and watched him. His movements were scripted, precise, as if muscle memory made from years of doing something. He’d pass each window, placing a hand on the lock and locking it if it was unlocked, (You might have walked behind him and unlocked a few to see if he’d do it again and he would every time.) The same with the doors. He’d circle the house endlessly looping, guarding some unseen path or border he had established in his mind. The moment you called his name, he was beside you of course, but the principal seemed to be he’d do for or with you, and then go back to what he was doing. 

Sure, he’d come lay with you in bed every night when you were tired, but once you were deep asleep, he seemed to slip away to continue this endless patrolling behavior. He never commented on it, never explained it, if anything it seemed to be nearly as automatic as breathing. 

It was really harmless, so you never stopped it. 

It was harmless until you woke at 4 in the morning to the sound of breaking glass in the kitchen downstairs. 

You were quick to move down the stairs, wondering if he’d accidentally hurt himself, but no- 

What you saw was Ethan, as much of him as your mind seemed to process in that moment. His body? Sure. His hair? Blond and pushed back as usual. His hand? Holding up a stranger wearing a dark hoodie and jacket, his hand lifting the stranger by the throat. 

Now that should have been the most alarming thing. 

It wasn't. 

The most alarming thing was Ethan’s face. Black. Like a shadow had been cast over him, concealing every distinguishable feature on your husband's face except for one single eye, wide and enraged. A low crackled rumbling sounded from Ethan as he stood tall, holding the stranger up by the throat with far too much ease. “You don’t belong here.” His response is... both clear and confusing as he speaks to the stranger despite having no visible mouth or mouth adjacent movements. 

The intruder -probably just someone young and stupid going by the small backpack and no weapons despite him breaking into your home to most likely steal something- mumbles quiet pleading to be released, let him go he won't come back... 

Until he turns to you, “Please, please help me-” As the intruder’s attempted begging grows louder, it’s cut off by Ethan squeezing his throat far too tight as he then turns to look at you. 

This is the first time you’ve been able to truly process what you’re seeing as more than what you’re used to seeing and it's so empty. It’s his body, his hair, his head, but his face is so... clouded by some sort of unending darkness. His voice is as soft as when you’re both lounging in bed though. “Go back to bed, honey. I’ll be there shortly.” 

You don’t know what to do but... 

“It’ll be alright, go back to bed.” Ethan sounds so doting as he softly promises that things will be okay, and he means every word. He patrols every night for this reason, after all. He won’t be caught unaware again, he won’t be taken from you again, he won’t hear your heartbroken cries ever again, nor would he ever let you undergo anything remotely similar.  

Ethan is here, he’ll keep you safely tucked away from the monsters and the darkness outside of your little home, even if he’s part of it now, he refuses to act like it. So go back to bed, he’ll clean up the mess and be there soon. 

Go back to bed. 

[leewritestoomuch]

I’ll Eat My Hat

This was supposed to be cute. And it is, once you get past the topic of death.

So warning about topic of death.

Ukyo Saionji x reader

I actually hate this, but take that with a grain of salt bc I always hate what I write. If I didn’t hate it, I’ve been replaced with a ghost writer and call for help.

I promise I can write better than this. I just haven’t written anything in a while.

“And if I died?” The question was a lot darker than the previous questions and conversation. To you, the question rolled off the tongue with a giggle, looking up at him. Though to you, he was upside down, but that’s because you were laying down, head resting on his thigh, looking back and up at him. You sat up when you noticed his face fall a little bit.

“I’d hope that wouldn’t happen.” He almost whispers, a smile cracking across his face. He looks about to cry, and you realize, he’s probably thought out that scenario. And you realize you should probably just move on and drop the conversation.

“S—” You start but he cuts you off.

“But even if it did, I’d always love you.” He looks like he’s fighting hiding his face in his hands. And he is, because shouldn’t he be stronger than this? He doesn’t though, he just look at you for a moment before he speaks again. “And maybe, I’d go too. Soon enough.”

“No, I’d want you to live.” Your eyes, previously fixed on something just past him, now snap over to meet his. “Don’t give up like that.”

“Well, I’d eat my hat if that day ever came so… I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” Ukyo snickers.

“Because you don’t worry about it?” You catch him off guard.

“No. I mean, well, yes. I do, but it’s just paranoia.” He says, chuckling as he looks down at the ground.

…

That conversation feels more like a distant memory now. As you slip on and fasten up some wooden shoes to do some scavenging around the forest with Kohaku, you think back to it though. This isn’t death, so why does that conversation come to mind?

You’ve been awake for less than a week, and you’re going to war soon. And maybe you will die, then your beloved boyfriend will have to eat his hat. Of course, that’s not what he’s worried about, though.

You two weren’t together when the petrification happened, so you don’t have much of a clue where to find him. What if his statue was broken? Then what?

Questions like that float through your head for days and weeks until you’re told stories by Gen and Magma about a man who had terrifying archery skills. And it feels silly, because archery is a well respected sport in Japan, which cultural roots too, so that could have been anybody, but your mind went straight to the idea that it’s him.

They say he aimed at them, and that you find harder to believe. Your boyfriend always was intimidating, when he needed to be, but he was a pacifist. If their blood was on his hands, you know he’d never sleep well again.

Yet you find yourself asking for any sort of detail that confirms your hopes it is him, because maybe there is a good explanation for his hostility. And for why he’s working for your enemy.

(I literally do not remember the episode very well at all so I’m adding my own twist bc I’m not rewatching it rn)

Gen says they couldn’t really see him, but they know he’s got excellent hearing.

“It’s like he could hear a feather drop.” He says.

And your heart skips a beat because that’s got to be your boyfriend. Yet, time passes and nothing. You can’t just walk onto enemy lines to find your boyfriend. And on top of that, you’ve began to delude yourself that there is some other man in the area with excellent, inhuman hearing and impeccable archery skills.

You brush all that off, ignoring it for now. Even if it’s clawing at you, there is work to be done. So here you are, sitting on the cold, wooden floor of the hut. Gen and Senku were on the phone with a woman named Nikki. A self proclaimed super fan of Lillian Weinberg, as you’ve come to understand. You, being from the United States, had helped him just a little bit with his facts regarding the famous singer. He knew a lot, so did Senku, but you had input too.

When you all played the recording, she believed it, but a faint, yet stern voice cut through the air from the behind the phone. Then the phone is taken, and a familiar voice speaks. Your heart stops for a moment as you realize, the archer was your boyfriend. After barely hearing the next words he, Gen, or Senku spoke, you finally snap back to reality when you hear “we have somebody who is better at English than the both of us.”

And the microphone of the giant phone is suddenly being shoved into your hand.

“So what exactly do you want?” The line is whispered to you to say. You repeat it, trying not to stutter over your words. The line goes silent on the other end for a moment, before he speaks.

Gen and Senku exchange glances because you, as stone faced and cold as you are, have never seemed nervous before. You don’t fail to notice, but you don’t say anything.

“I don’t want blood.” He says, sounding a bit more emotional now.

“I know you don’t.” You say softly back, and confusion settles into the room.

“So I’m not crazy. It’s you?” You nod, before remembering he can’t see you to know you did.

“No, you’ve lost your mind. Now you have to eat a hat.” You chuckle.

“I just got this one.” He says.

“Alright, I don’t know how you two know each other,” Senku bluntly cuts you off. “But wrap it up, we have a negotiation to discuss? Let’s be 100% to the point here. We can do this with no blood.”

You sit back, smiling, knowing you’ll see him once this is over.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sending this because I think Tumblr might’ve eaten it, but did you ever receive a request for the TADC crew with a small, but EXTREMELY feisty S/O? Tumblr has a bad habit of eating my asks when I’m on anon I’ve found. 😭

TADC crew w/ a short and feisty reader!

hello hello anon! im so so so sorry for not seeing this sooner :( i truly did not mean to take so long to answer this! rechecking through my inbox, i dont see the original request :( but ill be answering it here so not to worry! getting silly by hopping onto my laptop/computer since its in the dining room rn and this way i can keep an eye on my macarons (literally not baking them, drying them out before i do and i wanna make sure no one touches them)

CAINE:

honestly in the most blunt way possible i think he might actually be into it. he always liked him someone who has a little bite in them (and by always he means like, when he first met you because its highly likely youre his first partner)

if you get all riled up trying to defend him he might comically tug on the collar of his shirt, of which steam will stream out of... doesnt have much of a preference for height, but with you being on the shorter side it makes carrying you around a little less awkward!

POMNI:

absolutely taken aback when you just let it rip one day and you go off on someone (most likely jax lets all be real here for a minute), just stands there appalled before you eventually calm yourself down and turn your attention to her

not to yell at her, she hasnt done anything wrong

honestly... nervous anxious ball x angry defender is probably another trope of mine that i think about every so often, but honestly i love it so so much. thats literally just the embodiment of you and pomni's dynamic

not much to say here unfortunately </3 just that you tend to defend her when things get ugly and you dont tend to stop until the issue is resolved

RAGATHA:

honestly maybe im biased for ragatha because ive grown on her since ive opened requests, but i think that she would be the queen of getting you to chill out when something has you all riled up! is so so kind and doesnt make fun of your height, i mean its not like you or anyone can change it. very good at not making you feel less than for being shorter than nearly everyone else

holds

if you get angry on her behalf and attempt to defend her she would be so so touched, but really most things probably roll right off her back, so she just takes you and walks you away from the scene

JAX:

honestly he thinks its a little funny that you get so worked up over things! probably calls you an ankle biter as a joke, which might make you a little mad. definitely picks you up by the scruff or the back of your shirt or whatever! really any equivalent of that works! jax has an entire arsenal of nicknames for you, all based on your height and energy. he loves seeing the way your face scrunches up a little in disdain when he calls you one of those names. all in good fun, for the most part, but he might let up if its something that makes you genuinely upset...

KINGER:

okokokokok so we dont know anything about queenie (i think, i must admit i dont keep up with gooseworx at all and am only relying off of the pilot) but i hc her to also be more on the feisty side

is this relevant? really it depends, because i think kinger would be comforted by the familiarity of your attitude, but also this could be a gateway for angst because it makes him think and dwell on the loss of queenie.... up to you!

subconsciously kneels down to your height to talk to you; he doesnt mean to be rude! it just sort of happens! thinks your fierceness is endearing in its own silly way!

ZOOBLE:

probably thinks that you can get a little overwhelming sometimes. i mean yeah sure its nice to have someone in your corner whos ready to help you out but zooble seems to be the type to not seek that help out; and in fact i can easily see them getting annoyed by someone constantly speaking for them. so you guys are going to need to communicate and work on this together lest there be a build of resentment

remember guys resentment is a real thing and it can ruin so much !! communicate!!!

that aside, i dont think they would comment much on your height, they really could not give less of a flying fuck

GANGLE:

torn between having her be intimidated by you or having her also find it endearing (and perhaps even attractive? shy person liking the one who always speaks their mind, you know?) while im not writing these to be explicitly romantic, i dont quite totally comfy with the idea of intimidation in a relationship.. though this can be applied to platonic relationships too... hmm... mayhaps a mix of it all? not quite sure! probably goes to you for tips to be more bold, love the idea of someone teaching gangle to grow a backbone

similar to zooble, no comments on your height!

[starleska]

[me walking into your inbox not knowing anything about Maxime or what the Despicable Me franchise has been doing for the past five years:]

Hm, I saw your post about that Maxime La Mal guy being cold-blooded and I think you’re so right about him cuddling to cope. He definitely looks like an expensive guy, with a coat THAT thick in THAT weather, he’d probably in some big ol lavish, luxurious bed with a million bajillion blankets and multiple comforters and pillows still clinging to you I mean whoever haha unless.

Temperature dips just a little below Pretty Hot degrees and he’s fully wrapped himself around you, maximizing….Maxime-mizing sharing your body heat. His bones are probably inside your ribcage at that point, he seems pretty boney…or exoskeleton-y, Idk the situation, but it’s probably somewhat overcome by the cuteness of having him snuggling so close and clinging like a cicada to a tree <3 or something.

it’s also the perfect opportunity to snuggle him back and pet his hair…wait his antennae are in there…is it okay to touch his antennae? They seem like they’d be devilishly sensitive, that’s kinda their whole purpose. Idk maybe it’s 50/50….AGH WHATEVER you know snuggling we all know snuggling. Perfect opportunity to hold him close <3

…y’know an electric blanket would probably also help, you reckon he owns one of those? Someone should get him one of thoseI should stop standing under this air vent when my digestive issues are making me feel colder already, I’m getting way to sympathetic to the random character plights, I don’t even GO HERE I gotta go, my tumblr is breaking down rn-

SQUEAKS...!!!!!! 😳😳😳

PLEASE you did not need to come into my inbox with all of these glorious ideas for cold-blooded Maxime oh my god!!!!!!! 🙈💖💖💖

you are so right, Maxime is a man of comfort, excess and style and wherever he sleeps would reflect that...fun fact, cockroaches don't have eyelids, which is why they sleep in darker places!! they also fold their antennae down during rest :3c so i reckon his bedroom probably simulates something of a cockroach sleeping environment and is completely blacked-out 👀 khgfl 🥴🥴 i can tell you for a fact that Maxime canonically calls his antennae very sensitive (after Gru Jr. grabs them as an attack 😂) so i love the idea that at night he'll let you pet them gently...perhaps he'll issue a little click or a chirrup if the sensation is particularly pleasurable 🥰 honestly, i'm imagining an Italy from Hetalia situation 😳 hahahaha you SAY you don't go here but you come in with paragraphs about this silly little villain? oh, my dear friend. i think you're too far gone 😉 do try not to think too hard about Maxime wrapping his coat around you and spending a little too long with his fingers lingering on your arms, squeezing you. "C'est parti!" he'd chuckle. "You're much less cold now, no?"

[dreamtydraw]

*sit in a corner of this blog*

I don’t think it will shock anyone but I feel depressed rn. And during this moments of vulnerability I just feel like i need to say to people that I love them because I’m grateful to have them in my life and that count some of you too.

I have said multiple time on this blog that I have a hard time processing the possibility that what I create is truly liked or simply interest other because I have a huge impostor syndrom. I try to work on it to not feel that way but it’s very hard to change something that is so deeply rooted in a bad self image.

So i just want to say thank you to everyone who simply just left a nice comment under my art or a nice anon asking about my day. I know it’s silly but it’s little things likes that that sometimes made my day and helped to fight my impostor syndrom and I’m grateful for everyone’s kindness towards me.

I can only recomand you guys to be vocal to people when you like what they do because it might means nothing like it can mean a lot. Be kind to other, the world need kind souls.

I will now go back on compilation video of cute cat to up my mood and go to sleep less sad.

Mwah, kiss on eveyone’s forhead

[mayordea]

MORGAN HEADCANON POST!!!

so i have posted my elaborate “the robins are separate entities and siblings” headcanons and i think i’ve said too many damn times that i wanna extend a similar headcanon post for morgan and now it is TIME!!

(im also a lot less nervous sharing this time teehee)

more info about the guys under the cut :]

morgan

the girl one

robin’s adopted daughter. parents died after grima goes bananas and robin decided to take her under his wing. i like to think robin held out a little longer than the rest of the shepherds once the apocalypse started so he was able to teach morgan what he knew. plus she self taught herself magic and tactics using his notes even when he’s dead

can be blunt, hates being the butt of the joke, but has a pretty dry and witty sense of humor. sometimes clashes with lucina’s inability to pick up on jokes

since she was a kid when grima goes bad, she is the oldest among the second gen. older than lucina by a few years perhaps

has a close sisterly relationship with lucina. she and lucina sort of reflect robin and chrom’s relationship in the group, with the exalted leader having a wise magic man by their side. given the situation in their family tree (though morgan is adopted, she is still lucina’s cousin) i’d refrain from defining it as anything romantic (besides i hc lucina to be aroace anyway. queerplatonic relationship, perchance)

since morgan was only able to cross paths with lucina and the rest of the second-gen shepherds through her adoption from robin, it is unlikely that she will meet lucina in the good future or at least have the same very close relationship with lucina since she’ll be raised by her bio parents. (one may argue that none of the second-gen shepherds will meet or form a close band without the backdrop of acopalyptic bonding in the good timeline, but the point is that morgan will live a significantly different upbringing if the grima threat is taken care of). lucina sometimes worries about this possibility, but morgan’s conviction to change the future for the better is stronger than this uncertainty. this conviction was also probably inspired by lucina’s drive to change fate

ngl this is all i have unfortunately 😭 but i do wanna work with her more, especially her relationship with lucina

marc

the boy one

chrom and reflect (girl robin)’s son from… a different future. he does not hail from the same doomed timeline as lucina and the rest of the kiddos. instead, he’s from a timeline where grima was vanquished with the falchion (keeping reflect/the vessel alive). he was born shortly after the war ended (though in actuality he’s born after chrom and friends leave smash bros but that’s a whole other can of worms)

the youngest of the future kids

due to his unawareness of the apocalyptic future and grima in general, he has a much more jovial attitude compared to the rest of the kids

brash and a bit of a jock

has a little bit of aptitude in magic from his mom, but he has no interest in actually touching a book

lucina (and the rest of the kids) were confused about this guy’s existence and why he was sent to the past but they embrace him as one of their own anyway (he still doesn’t really know what’s going on)

tbh i have even less going on with him, but i think exploring the silly sibling dynamic he’ll have with lucina should be fun in future projects

his design is kinda messy atm, i do not know if ill fully settle on the one here idk

OH and lastly: his mark of the exalt has not surfaced yet at his age, but i think it’ll appear on either the back of his right hand (like the defile brand) or on his upper back (jojo reference). or maybe even in his right eye like inigo (but that sorta feels like his thing so i don’t wanna rip it off lmao)

anyway that’s it!! i’m kinda pressed for time rn but i wanted to get this out before i forgot lmao!! will edit if needed ough

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

😘

For Valentine's Day, here are shipping... not headcanons so much as scenes that I would like to put into fic form but, let's be for real, I'll only ever get around to writing 1 out of 6 of these. So instead let me just tell you how the scenes go!

(Note: They are all silly but they are not all fluffy.)

Henry x Bear:

Henry bringing Bear to his forest (which is actually a spur off the Peel Godred branch line) for the first time circa 1971-ish and being kind of gruffly shy about this because This Is His Heart and he's trying to sound soooo offhand as he mentions that he just likes to visit here sometimes… get away from it all… for the past fifty years cough… and Bear just looking around and having a heart attack at how some roots are literally driving up the track ahead of them and measuring the four inches between them and the foliage and being like HENRY. HENRY I’M SORRY BUT. HOW. HOW IS THIS LEGAL. HOW HAVE YOU NOT CAUSED A FIRE HERE

I guess this one doesn't end on a very romantic note but it does make me laugh. 

Edward x BoCo:

This one is even more messed-up but it also makes me laugh. I tend to imagine occasionally even work on a way-too-complicated WIP of Edward and BoCo getting to know each other during the three years before “The Diseasel” and also things on the mainland are, like. Bad. Really, really bad. BoCo is way too busy chronically dealing with stress levels set to 9 out of 10 to in any way acknowledge his growing romantic feelings about Edward… 

… until one day when he’s been working further inland for a few days and as he starts returning ‘home’ he hears word that Edward was left in Barrow shed for a day and somehow spent the day out and about on B.R. jobs and BoCo RUSHES back - albeit a quiet, understated sort of way - all but teleports! - he NEEDS to find out RIGHT AWAY if his oh-so-innocent-cinnamon-roll is even still ALIVE :( let alone finding out how bullied he’s been :( only at the end of three hours in a sort of moving heart attack to find Edward at Barrow shed apparently now pals with everyone and swapping tales of Furness past and present with all the worst characters imaginable eating out of his palm and being like oh hello! yes i did get out and about it’s been lovely :) and BoCo trying not to shout in front of everyone I THOUGHT THERE WAS A REAL CHANCE YOU WERE DEAD OR KIDNAPPED AND SENT HALFWAY ACROSS THE COUNTRY BY NOW I CAME PREPARED TO COMMIT MURDER and Edward with an unbroken smile being casually like Oh yes :) Five different diesels tried :) No dw you can see I’m fine haha :) Incidentally at least a few of your brothers would sell you to the Gronk mafia for a corn chip :) yes the ones I’m sharing a chummy laugh with rn :) I had no idea things here were so bad I am putting you under protective custody on Sodor immediately :) 

Mavis x Daisy:

Mavis has been down coz things have been so dull.

Daisy comes to her beloved's rescue!

... by throwing the world’s fakest mechanical breakdown at Ffarquhar and being like ‘oh DEAR i am ILL I am FALLING APART i NEED my dearest Mavis to HELP ME WITH THIS ONE MILK TANKER or else my SWERVES will IMPLODE’ and literally every human on scene doing a facepalm.

Mavis has a grand time although - when they manage to swing this journey all the way to Tidmouth Harbour - Mavis shows how much more forward she is about striking up conversations whereas Daisy is actually quite socially anxious (much as she tries to hide it) and winds up getting jealous at Mavis talking to everyone but her. 

And then (finally noticing Daisy in a tizzy) Mavis rolls her eyes and kisses her at the same time. 

Most everyone whoops and shouts some good-natured razzing. Cranky, however, is all like ‘OY A LITTLE LESS OF THAT IN MY DOCK’ 

Thomas x Bertie:

Maybe this one is a straight-up headcanon, I dunno. And I think this ship is a QPR. But anyway I like to imagine Bertie swinging all the way out to York to visit Thomas during his stint at the NRM. 

It’s a super lovely surprise. 

Up to and including Bertie responding to “But how?????” with the world’s smarmiest: “Well, I’m allowed to travel on mainland roads, aren’t I? Roads 1,459 Rails 0 :D” 

James x Porter:

This is me, the captain of an empty ship, I know. (It's fun!)

Porter has been screwing with James’s head for fifteen years now by doing Grand Romantic Gestures but with Pokerfaced Watertight Plausible Deniability. 

Like if there’s ever a cargo of flowers to go out, he always makes sure James gets it. 

He always just so happens to be on James’s track when there are fireworks. 

Forever making remarks like “Oh yeah, you go on first, you need your beauty routine” to let James go on and get wash down ahead of him and then bouncing so that James spends the entire time fruitlessly parsing the tone. It’s not biting or mean. It’s not flirtatious or teasing. But it's definitely not quite matter-of-fact. What does he MEAN by it???

No one knows. (Not that James cares!!!!!!!!) Porter, who has intimacy issues, is having way more fun living in James’s head rent-free than he ever would actually making a move on the most difficult and dramatic love interest on the railway (James: Everybody’s Ex™)

… at some point this will get resolved only when James snaps and drags him along on one of his fast freights out of the harbour. For once Porter is flustered (“Whoa! Whoa! James, put me down! I don’t go this fast - ”) and James just laughs, suddenly exhilarated because now he’s finally hauling Porter off and at the end is gonna force him to address all this shit (“C’mon, you’ve played Thomas before, haven’t you? Let’s moooooove -!”)