#also i forever hate drawing furniture

[reticent-fate]

part 8/26ish

it is sacrilege of the utmost kind to not eat your pizza crusts. that's free bread you're throwing out!!

(i could swear there was a statistic about how much pizza crust is thrown out in the united states annually or something, but alas, i cannot find it)

from the beginning

[skrunksthatwunk]

KUWAMESHI SKETCH DUMP KUWAMESHI SKETCH DUMP in which they are little shits who cannot stop messing with each other

also obv zoom in to see everything bc this shit is CRAMPED. but it's all neat i prommy

[retromotherfuckers]

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it. 

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster? 

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe. 

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say. 

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

[gingiesworld]

Family Is Forever

Chapter Three

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst.

Taglist: @fxckmiup @ginnsbaker @gb12d @casquinhaa @angrywhisperslove @louxbloom @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin

18+ MINORS DNI

The next day came around pretty fast, Y/N had already had the lawyers draw up the papers, not wanting to draw the divorce out any longer than it needed to.

"So, we're doing it here?" Wanda questioned as she sat on the sofa as Y/N stood before the mantel, looking over the pictures of the four of them.

"Yeah, I figured it won't be long." They told her honestly, picking up the picture of the two of them stood outside of Tony's cabin. "I love this photo, I always thought you were stunning even of you hated the wind in your hair."

"What are you doing?" Wanda snapped as Y/N put the picture back in it's place.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention." They told her just as the doorbell rang, Wanda just huffed as she got up to answer it. Allowing the divorce lawyer inside as the three soon moved to the dining table. Both Wanda and Y/N sat opposite each other.

"So, what is the reason for this divorce, is it infidelity?" The lawyer questioned as the two shook their heads no.

"I guess we just drifted apart." Y/N told them as they looked away from Wanda. Wanda hummed in agreement as the lawyer sighed.

"We won't be able to get this divorce finalised as fast as you both would like." He told the two as he placed his pen down. "You will need to be separated for at least 6 months before a divorce can be filed. Even then it's a trial separation and marriage counselling is advised."

Both Y/N and Wanda shared a look before Wanda looked away, leaving Y/N with the talking.

"I don't think that counselling is an option." Y/N told him. "This decision by the two of us is set in stone."

"So it will be a trial separation, then in 6 months we can revisit the divorce. If that is what you both really want." He said as the two nodded. "I understand you both have a prenup and you have children, yes?"

"Yes." Wanda answered. "We are going to split the custody."

"And I am moving out so Wanda and the boys have the house." They spoke up. "Also I am still going to be paying for the boys, providing for them. Whatever they need."

"I do suggest going through the court for the child support, just incase of unforseen circumstances." He told the two.

"You mean like if I don't pay it one month?" Y/N questioned, Wanda could see that they were getting irritated by the insinuation.

"Y/N isn't like that, they never ever let the boys down." Wanda defended them. "This marriage is ending, not because we don't love each other."

"But because I haven't really had the time to split between work, Wanda and the boys." Y/N admitted as they looked at Wanda. "And I can't make a promise of something that isn't really in my control as I do travel for work sometimes, and Wanda deserves more than what I can give her." Y/N looked at the lawyer as Wanda's gaze remained on her soon to be ex. "We're going to co-parent the boys and Wanda has my schedule and she will get any changes made to it too." Y/N informed them both. "I have also just made appointment to sign a lease at an apartment nearby."

"What about belongings?" He questioned as Y/N sat up straight.

"I already took everything of my own." They told him.

"You only took your clothes." Wanda told them as Y/N nodded.

"I did take everything of my own." They repeated. "All of the furniture and electrical gadgets are all yours and the twins, I won't take anything more than what I already have."

"Ok." The lawyer hummed. "It seems you have everything under control with this separation." He packed away his papers before bidding the two good luck.

"So." Wanda started as Y/N stood up, pushing their chair back in it's place.

"I best be off." They told her. "I've got these reports from last week that areway behind."

"Ok." Wanda whispered. "Do you maybe want to have dinner tonight? I'm sure the twins would love to see you." Y/N inhaled shakily as they looked at the woman who will always have their heart.

"Yeah." They nodded. "I'll be here at the usual time."

"Thank you." Wanda told them as she walked them to the door.

"Why don't you open a book shop." Y/N suggested as Wanda looked taken aback. "It was always a dream you had and you have more than enough money in your account to do it."

"I don't know the first thing about running a business." Wanda admitted as Y/N gave her a tender smile.

"The community college has a business course that you could do." They told her. "You could learn everything you need to."

"But I have the twins." Wanda told them.

"I can always have them on the nights you have classes." They told her honestly. "I know you can do this Wanda so please just, make your dream come true. Do it for yourself."

"You really think I can do it?" She whispered as Y/N just nodded.

"I know you can." With that, they left her as she watched them drive away from the house. She started to wonder amidst all of the separation, she forgot about the dream she had before the twins were even a thought. Maybe because when she had that dream, Y/N would be by her side as she opened.

Once Y/N had finally made into the office, Tony greeted them as he dragged them into his own office. Gesturing for them to take a seat as he closed the door.

"I hear that you are having some trouble at home." He stated as Y/N sighed.

"Wanda and I are going through a separation." They stated calmly.

"So that's the reason for the recent splurge in absences." He stated as Y/N nodded.

"I've had to move out and well, I have an appointment for an apartment near the house so I am still there for the twins." They rambled as Tony held his hand up for them to stop.

"I understand Y/N but we can't be behind on weekly reports. It's not a good sight, especially on me." Tony told them. "Maybe you should step down from your senior position."

"No. I don't need to." Y/N told him. "I only have one appointment left and then the rest I am going to be doing in my own time. It's just this is hard right now and well."

"Maybe you should take a sebatical?" He suggested as Y/N shook their head no.

"That isn't an option." They stated. "I can assure you that this will not happen again Mr Stark. I just have a small appointment this week which I can take out of my lunch break. It's just signing a lease and picking up the keys for my new place."

"I am trusting your word Y/N." He told them sternly as Y/N thanked him before heading back to their own office to get to work. Time passed fairly quickly as they sent the late reports of and started on the new. They had also completely lost track of time, so they soon raced to the house just in time for dinner to be served.

"O'PA!!!" The twins yelled once they entered the house.

"Hey boys." They beamed as they hugged the twins, kissing the top of their heads before seeing Wanda stood in the doorway. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"You're here, that's all that matters." Wanda stated indifferently. Although the sight of the three of them made her heart swell, she still felt the heartbreak that this is only brief.

The two listened as Tommy was telling them about an upcoming game he has this weekend to which both Y/N and Wanda stated they wouldn't miss it. That was something that Wanda could trust with Y/N, they never missed a chance to cheer on the boys.

"When's the decathlon meet?" Y/N asked Billy who smiled shyly, something he gets from his mom.

"In 4 months." He told them. "We're just studying for the possible subjects and questions we could be asked."

"That's awesome Billy." Wanda beamed at him.

"Be sure to save me a ticket for it." Y/N told him as he just nodded. Once dinner was over, the boys had disappeared to do their homework as Y/N helped Wanda clean.

"You don't have to do this." Wanda told them.

"I know." They said as they put the dishes away. "I guess I, never mind." Wanda turned to face them, seeing them troubled was something she never liked to see.

"Are you ok?" She asked them as they gave her a tight lipped smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine." They told her, although she didn't buy it. "I guess I am going to go."

"Yeah." Wanda nodded as she watched Y/N disappear to say goodbye to the twins before Wanda met them at the door. "Be careful." She told them as they nodded, already making their way back to the office to get up to date on the work that has been piling up on their desk. Their head in their hands as they let the tears slip through, wiping them away faster than they would fall.

[kindleaf]

Erlin, Albin for the obvious. Zirk for me. And as a curve ball. Also Luna.

[ask game] yayyyy so many :3c (under cut)

erlin:

how do i feel about this character?

gestures to my url. i'm normal. im literally normal. (favorite nadd character and maybe my favorite character ever. he's certainly up there.)

all the characters i ship romantically with them.

bev -w- truly no one else. no one else with bev either. no one can ever get involved with what they have going on at risk of their self esteem.

non-romantic pairings.

ofc egwene and erlin the siblings of all time forever. the most important guys. and then the rest of b-team obviously. him and hardwon make me cry. of course his other scoutmaster moonie as well. derlin. cran. probably ol cobb. i get weepy he has so many friends he's so LOVED...

unpopular opinion.

i'm a bev/erlin guy we all know this. and a large portion of his life is beverly and i love to discuss this i love to talk about the Themes And Motifs but i also think. maybe. both within the show and in fandom we could talk a little bit more about erlin and his desires outside of bev... we can look at his own tragedy as well... also he's gay. that's not unpopular i'm just saying it.

one thing i wish would happen/wish had happened in canon.

B-TEAM BONDING. ON SCREEN B-TEAM BONDING. PLEASE ON SCREAM B-TEAM BONDING. "MY FATHER FIGURE" BRIAN MURPHY ELABORATE.

albin:

how do i feel about this character?

LOVE HIM. loser wizard guy my favorite c3 character hands down. he's so sad. kicks him.

all the characters i ship romantically with them.

sol! mainly sol. sometimes i play dolls with him and calder, grem, or swag but it's mainly for the Bit and the Drama and the Sexual Ennui.

non-romantic pairings.

ma goblin and him are literally LITERALLY best friends bark bark ruff bark. they make me so happy to think about. also i have pretty extensive headcanons about him hanging out with the waterpark kids (liddy, tully, etc.) and maybe have a comic in the works for it hehe but i like that. and then also winch and callie. i think they should be FRIENDS.

unpopular opinion.

they should treat him better in canon before i start aggressively subtweeting jake and emily on twitter. be fucking nice to him he's literally just helping you and calder STARTED it.

one thing i wish would happen/wish had happened in canon.

i wish we had gotten to maybe see more flashbacks to launchpad with them in a more serious way? however the lizer fight flashback to albin crying out for help really does it for me i like that a LOT. i wish we'd maybe even gotten more of albin's story pre-launchpad but that's arcane knowledge that not even murph knows so. shrugs.

zirk:

how do i feel about this character?

i LIIIIKE zirk i think he's so interesting and fun. and ofc he's a blorbo in law. but i love alchemist characters by default and then ALSO he has mommy issues? let's fucking go.

all the characters i ship romantically with them.

uhhh not many? i don't really ship him but when people draw him with syb or henry i think that is a-okay!

non-romantic pairings.

him and fia. obviously. they are literally socialized together like kittens and they'll rip up your furniture if they're apart please do not separate. also i like your 🫵 zirk and hank jr stuff i think they should and could be friends even. also him and irina but that's mainly stuff i imagine in my brain. also i think him and tarragon could VIBE but i suppose we'll never know.

unpopular opinion.

hm. idk how unpopular this is with this certain audience but i literally hated the fucking through a bag scene so much. it sucks. it's not good. to me.

one thing i wish would happen/wish had happened in canon.

i would eventually like to see some third mates on their boat in the future :-) just to see what they are up to post All That Bullshit. and also for some zirk and irina interactions.

luna:

how do i feel about this character?

LOVE HER i love her role in the crick arc and i love her scene with melora and i especially love that we get a little peek into how the chosen recruits members because i am so horrible fascinated by how they function as a cult militia. i love her she's awesome.

all the characters i ship romantically with them.

i think shipping her with apple scrumper is literally just fun. so apple scrumper. also not romantic but i think her and moonshine could have a casual thing. in wolf beast mode.

non-romantic pairings.

also her a moonshine as mentioned previously. i think her and hardwon potentially also good friends and then this is so random i think her and tess from the bastards of none could literally hang.

unpopular opinion.

despite her relatively small role in the grand scheme of things i don't think luna is forgettable at all! i think she even brings about one of the most iconic parts of the series early on with melora's "you weren't cursed. you were born that way." i like her very much i think she was the most fun a tertiary npc could be.

one thing i wish would happen/wish had happened in canon.

i can't really think of anything specific i think her arc was very well done. i wish she had gotten to maim barret brisden if this counts.

[yvernal]

Body

I wouldn't call it self-love. Perhaps self-acknowledgement or self-recognition, maybe. Self-acceptance, even.

Recognition that this body is mine, this flesh is mine and that I inhabit it with each inhalation, with every exhalation. That if it's not really a home, it's not a prison nor a cage. Not anymore, at least.

It is a writing exercise. An exercise in description. An exercise in apprehension of the image I have of myself, of this body that I inhabit, of all its qualities and all of its defects.

My feet are flat, just like Mom's are. There's just the gentlest of curves in the center, which I often find myself dragging my fingers over. My toes are uneven, oddly curved and a bit bony, with nails that grow either too fast or too slow. The ones on my big toes will forever remain oddly square since my ingrown toenail surgeries. I have weird patches of hair on it, thanks to hormones, as well as calluses from walking too hard in shoes that weren't made for that. But it's also one of the places where my skin is palest, where the pattern of my veins are the most delicate and easy to follow, like an arachnean lace of blue-green-purple hues.

I love my ankles, despite having managed to fuck up both of them at least once. Sometimes when I look at them, bones and tendons playing under the thin skin with the slightest flex, I think I can understand the Victorian obsession with this otherwise forgettable joint.

I used to hate my calves. I found them too big, too imposing. Almost humorous in the worst way, with the way the muscle sagged when I crossed my legs. Then I started walking, more regularly. Long walks and short trips and climbing stairs... With the hormones, it changed. They are slimmer now, more toned. When I wear high heels, I have some killer legs. My leg hair is long, not that I care much for it. I tend to shave or wax in the summer though, between the sweat and the fact I simply prefer the look and feel of my smooth skin when I have to expose it.

I have knobby, bony knees. Skin marked with small scars from an age where I kept tripping in the playgrounds. They creak, like misaligned hinges, cracking and rattling as if I were in my eighties rather than my twenties. I tend to find it quite amusing.

Thanks to both sides of the family (for once), I have thick thighs. The kind of plush, meaty thighs that spread out when you sit down, taking up space and drawing the eye to them. Hairy, just like my calves. I hate it just a little because it makes my moles harder to spot. I have a handful of them, peppered all over my skin like secret kisses from nonexistent lovers.

I don't usually think about my crotch. It has changed under the influence of hormone treatment, in a somewhat pleasant way that I don't dwell on for too long. I don't wear a packer, although I think about it sometimes, but I have this lingering feeling that this extra bulge would just.... be in the way. My ass, on the other hand, is something I think about a little more. I've been told it looks good, and I guess with all the walking I do and a few pounds on my bones it may as well be. And without the chest to counterbalance, it's all the more remarkable. What matters more for me is that it allow me to sit comfortably for extended periods of time, to be honest.

My hips are wide, in a telling way that used to make me uncomfortable until I discovered flowy high-waisted culottes. Bony, easy to grab, and even easier to bruise. I can't even count the number of furniture corners I've run into. My waist is only slightly smaller, less than before my transition. I'm more rectangular now, less round yet somewhat still soft and squishable.

I'm not active or athletic enough to flaunt abs, and I've gained back the pounds I lost from my bad eating habits and medication side effects. Despite my rather short stature, I don't look my weight. Except maybe for the previously mentioned ass and my little soft belly. When I still had breasts, I hated this little curve with a passion. Now, I find it almost cute in its roundness, its squishiness. It makes me seem softer, more huggable, like something made to held and to be hold.

I used to have breasts, before my transition, and never really liked them, even before the worst surges of gender and body dysphoria. I had surgery last year, during summer, and I just.... I just love my top surgery scar. I only have one long scar, still slightly pink but in the process of disappearing, going from one armpit to the other. It's a beautiful work, my surgeon almost prouder of it than I was. I heal pretty poorly, so some areas are more extensive than others, the skin more wrinkled or weirdly smooth and veiny.

Testosterone injections left me with chest hair I could do without. I love the feel of smooth, soft skin, even if running my fingers through the messy happy trail below my belly button brings a euphoria that's hard to describe. But I like low-necked, openwork tops and just don't like the sight of chest hair protruding from it. And then, with the sweating and the operation I had, ingrown hairs and pimples are frequent during growth.

That's also the problem with my back, strange hair patches and persistent pimples. Otherwise, I think I have a somewhat pretty back, especially the hollow curve of my spine and the arch of my lower back. When I stretch and arch like a cat, I can sometimes feel the stares on the hollow of my back. I have several moles on my back, larger and more visible than on my thighs, with one in particular a little below my shoulder blades.

My shoulders are pretty, a soft slope from my neck to an enticing roundness. I have gained muscle definition with work and injections, not very noticeable but still present in the delicate curve and the discreet shadow when I flex my biceps. My skin is pale there, not as much as my feet but close to it, that same lace of veins easily noticeable in the soft hollow of my elbow. The moles are more numerous, more visible, like a strange game of connecting the dots, personal constellations never written on a map.

My forearms have the softest, most delicate skin, pale and blue-green veins to follow like the course of a stream to my wrists, strangely thin. A family trait once again, fragile joint that I can fully encircle with my hand, strangely resilient despite its apparent delicacy. My hands are less so, rougher and bony, shorter rather than long, more creaking than graceful. Bony joints like my knees, visible tendons like my ankles, I can somewhat see the bone's palor under the thin layer of skin. My nails are neither round nor square, a strange mix of both, if anything. They grow fast, when I allow them to do so. I never chewed on them, rather tearing them off until the white was all gone and the skin left raw. White means stress-free, something I am more regularly now than before. I paint them sometimes, colorful and shiny when life is otherwise too dull.

My collarbone is pretty, delicate bird bones under thin skin, veins like a cobweb and this faint hollow between them, like a natural jewelry case in which to nest my pendants. The beginning of my tattoo finds its source there, a snake with an open mouth and a darting tongue, whose scaly body winds up to my shoulder, its body semi-hidden in chrysanthemums and spider-lilies.

My hair is thick, always has been. Thick and numerous, slippery in a way that makes most hairstyle complicated to achieve. The texture changed since I was in high school and started testosterone, more prone to fluff up in indistinct waves and curls, whose ends caress my nape with every bounce of my steps. Half is my original color, a dark brown with chestnut tones and copper highlights, leftovers from my former fiery red hair dye. Half of it was bleached, a warm creamy-blond underlight peaking through the brown strands and which I should have the roots redone in a month or two, now that my hair has grown several centimeters.

It frames my face nicely, in a way that makes me look soft and gentle. I have a face that's almost more round than oval, with full, plump cheeks and a large forehead, now that I've been graced with a receding hairline. My lips are also plump, even if constantly dry and chapped, despite using chapstick (often a tinted one at that). The drooping corners inherited from Mom give me a permanent resting bitch face, or at least a quietly bored look. When I smile, however, the contrast is striking and my whole face glows.

I think my big, round, thin-rimmed glasses also help with this impression of gentle roundness, as well as making me look like a clichéd librarian. I think from time to time about having eye surgery so I don't have to wear them anymore, or trying to wear contact lenses more regularly.

My eyes are my favorite part of my body, something I have always loved about myself and have received many compliments on over the years. I would be unable to tell their exact color, leaning more towards a blue-green that sometimes looks gray, and ignoring the specks of golden-brown that seem to wander near my pupils. Maybe I will know more precisely in a few weeks, after the meeting in the photography gallery.

I have long and dark eyelashes framing them, as well as thick and quite unkept eyebrows. Fairly light blue-purplish circles, which a good night's sleep or a light massage with a skin care product can make disappear. Noticeable skin texture, large pores and blotchy red patches that won't go away, but I like it like that honestly, uneven and unsmooth.

I'm growing a beard now, even though I thought I wouldn't do it a few years ago. The texture is somewhat rough and some of the hair is oddly blond or red, despite the predominantly brown color of it. It grows a little too high on my cheeks and a little too low on my neck and sometimes I get so fed up with it that I shave it all off. But it gives my face a certain depth, a slightly older look that I quite like, as being mistaken for a high school student gets old fast.

This is my body.

A little creaky, soft and plush around all its bony and cutting edges, more solid and reliable than I could have believed, shifting and yet constant. Something I mold and inhabit, an almost-home and once-prison. I love it as much as I despise it.

This is my body.

This is me.

[sunshine-in-a-bottle]

I fantasize every single day about having my own house, decorated in a bright flourish of colors and filled with fun silly knickknacks and the comfiest furniture. I'll have a dishwasher and a washer/dryer set, and enough windows to let the light in. I'll have ac and heat, and a fan just in case. The lamps will have fun shapes, like flower bulbs, and there will be a clock that makes noises every hour like the one in my parents house.

My bed will be a queen size, and it's gonna have fun sheets and covers and maybe even something crocheted for the top (I would have the money to buy someone's work, to pay them what they deserve.) I'll put up glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, and do wallpaper on some walls and paint on others. No carpets, but a couple of rugs and mats with pretty patterns.

One of the rooms will be a small library, only half- filled because I have so much more I want to read. It'll also have a work desk maybe for my computer and a sketchbook, and there's plushies peeking out off some of the shelves.

There's gonna be a basement, and that's where all my art stuff will be. An art studio, but it's not fancy, and it's going to be messy as all hell, but I'll get to work with clay on the wheel again, paint things on a big canvas, or just draw. Maybe accidentally drink paint out of my mug. There'll be a fan in the basement window to keep the air down there from becoming too bad.

I'll have one dog and one cat. The dog will get training and get to go to a groomers and he'll protect the house but also get so many kisses and snuggles, and when I walk in to get a cat I'll ask who's been there the longest and who needs the most help, maybe an elderly cat, and I'll love it forever. It'll have toys and a cat tree and two litter boxes. I'll make time to walk the dog every week, and we can go to a dog park for many zoomies.

I want a guest bedroom that's clean and always ready to go, so my friends will always have a safe place to be if they need it. They can come over for fun times and we can make food together, and some of them will get antsy and ask to do dishes with me cause they want to help, so I'll rinse off the dishes and they can put them in the washer, or vice versa. They'll never have to, because they're my favorite guests in the whole world, but I'd never let them stew in anxiety over a couple of plates.

I don't have a green grass lawn. I hate mowing. There's gonna be flowers everywhere instead, and I'll have a bunch of written notes about where the sunlight goes and how much shading there is so I can make sure each plant gets the proper amount of light. I'll have a list in my big binder, all the flower names and where they are and what they need. I know it'll take me years to get everything set up and grown, but it'll be a really big reward to have butterflies and birds. There will be a big multi-feeder like my grandma has, and a squirrel feeder opposite side of it to keep them separated. I want a gooseberry bush so I can make a pie. I'll have a composter. I'll have overwhelming amounts of zucchini and sheepishly offer them to my neighbors every year. I want to be friends with all my neighbors.

I'll know all the people in the neighborhood and their kids, I'll say hi and give them food and be a part of the community. When the kids go out and play on our street like I did as a kid, they'll be safer cause I'll be an adult worth trusting. My dog will always be happy to see them and I'll never be mean and yell at the kids when they get too rowdy. If a neighbor wants to be left alone I'll leave them be, but I'll make sure they know I'm here if there's ever an emergency or they need a working phone, like our old neighbors did for us.

I'll have a ramp and no steps to get into my house, because I want my friends on wheels to be able to easily get inside my house. If I gotta have stairs inside my house, I want to someday afford one of those wheelchair lifts so they're not stuck to one floor. The floor space will be clean and open enough for the chair to zoom everywhere. I'll have a shower that's handicap accessible like the one in my family home now, along with a huge bathtub. I'll make my home accommodating in all the ways they suggest so I can have my friends be safe and comfortable when they're with me.

I could have a pond out in the back, like my grandparents did. Get toads every summer, get some fun plants to make it a diverse ecosystem. It would be lined with big rocks and the birds would like it, even if the water isn't clear. Could also get a bird bath. I'd take my grandmother's books about identifying birds with me, so I can learn about which ones are coming to my garden. I'd learn about all the different insects scuttling through the dirt.

There'd be two medical kits, one in the bathroom and one in the kitchen. Everything would be organized so I don't have to go rummaging through drawers at 3 am for a bandaid.

It wouldn't always be the cleanest place, because I know myself, but once a month I could hire a cleaning service and pay them to help me. It might be a little awkward at first, but I'll be very nice to them and check to see if I can leave a tip for the hard work, and maybe offer them zucchini bread.

I don't watch TV, but I'd probably have a small one in the living room that has a DVD player, perched in one of those wood shelves that have cupboards filled to brim with movies and shows and even music I like. I'd have them on in the background while I do things, cause I need the audio. I won't have to pay for streaming sites because every show I love I can hold in my hands.

I can never bring myself to hang my clothes up in a closet, so I'll have a couple baskets of clean clothes I can look through. I'll learn how to iron. I'll be able to pay to have my clothes tailored to fit me. The closet will have Legos in it instead, or some very soft nerf guns, or board games I know I love. I'll make messes I won't clean up for a week, but I'll be able to build a Lego city with my friends when they come over or build marble towers.

I'll host tea parties where we can have fun and dress up in pretty clothes, and costume parties where my friends can come and show off their cosplays. There'll be good food, maybe potlucks. I'll learn how to be a good host and maybe my friends will make friends with each other sometimes. Every holiday and season will get its own special flag that I'll hang outside my house. I'll have a welcome mat at the door.

I'll have pictures of my friends hanging up on the wall. I'll have paintings from artists I love. I'll have figurines and interesting rocks I found.

I'll have my friend's favorite sweets in the pantry for when they come visit. My fridge will always have food in it. There's vanilla ice cream in the freezer. The fridge won't have any fancy computers and alexas inside, none of my stuff ever will, but it'll have a long lifespan and be easy to repair.

I'll have the family piano and my violin case on top of it. My guitar will be safe in its stand. They'll all be clean, tuned, and well cared for. I'll never be forced to play an instrument ever again, but I can always pick them up again, and it'll be my choice.

There will always be clean water. I can walk around my whole neighborhood safely. I can go to the park and climb something. A grocery store might even be within walking distance! (But there will be a bus line that can take me there if not, or maybe a train, if the future is kind.)

The roof will be well tended. I might have solar power and a backup generator. The house's siding will be nice and clean. I'll have a nice fence that doesn't go too high so I can chat with my neighbors if they like.

I'll have a calendar on the wall to mark off each day, and even if there will be bad days (cause there will always be bad days) at least I know that I lived through another one. And that's definitely good enough.

[mika-writes-fanfics]

Healing Touch

Dabi x Fem!Reader fan fiction

Synopsis: You encounter an injured Shigaraki and offer your healing quirk to his aid. Little did you know, healers were hard to come by in the underground and Shigaraki takes a liking to your skills. To further his cause, he kidnaps you and holds you captive under the watch of the LOV. You play the role of the LOV's little healer while you think of a way to escape. Unbeknownst to you, the pyromaniac with a cold heart begins to melt in your presence. Your compassion and wit draw him in, all the while he swears it's only curiosity he feels toward you. But when your touch heals his burns and your personality soothes his anguish, Dabi begins to wonder, what exactly is he feeling for you? And why the hell does he feel so torn up when you slip away?

Author's Note: I have no idea what the full layout of the original LOV bar/base was, but the Bakugo kidnapping episode showed that they keep the Nomu somewhere in the base. The AFO and All Might fight makes the building seem bigger as well. Idk, if I was a villain, I’d keep my monsters and dying mentor (AFO) behind a security door, so that nobody can snoop around. So that’s what I’m going with (also no windows because plot).

Warnings/Tags: Stockholm syndrome, eventual smut, kidnapping, female/afab reader, healing quirk

Abbreviation Guide: Y/N (your name), E/C (eye color), H/L (hair length), F/C (favorite color), S/T (skin tone or color)

Word Count: 2K

Chapter Two: Normalcy

It’s been two weeks since your arrival at the LOV base. You hate to admit that you’re acclimating, as the rebellious and angered side of you sees this as giving up. To quell that rage in you, you remind yourself that you haven’t fully accepted the role thrust upon you. You’re just playing along. Somehow, you know you’ll escape. They can’t watch you forever, one of these days they’ll slip up. 

You’ve been taking this time to observe your surroundings and familiarize yourself with everyone’s patterns. If you’re lucky, maybe your watchful eyes will catch a slip in the chain. You’ve observed that some of the members stay at the base full-time, while others trickle in as need be. Toga, Tomura, Twice, and Dabi stay on site, except for missions and personal errands. Kurogiri is practically a piece of furniture in the base, seldom leaving and always attending to either Shigaraki or the bar.

Everyone keeps a close eye on you, particularly Toga and Twice. Toga is much more “hands-on” with her approach, choosing to follow you and pester you, with either affection or questions, wherever you wander.  She frequently asks you about crushes, relationships, and blood. You want to think of her as a little sister given her age and her adoration for you, but the danger and bloodlust that lurks in her eyes make you wary of letting your guard down. Toga’s persistence is a significant roadblock in fabricating an escape plan for you. 

What you have noticed while under Toga’s gaze is that there’s an entire wing of the building you have not seen. Sometimes, you’ll see Tomura disappear through a set of doors guarded by a passcode. You think you’ve seen glimpses of light coming through a window when Tomura goes through and the doors are briefly open before shutting once more. It’s hard to know for sure, it’s not like you could get through without a code anyways. Something tells you that you don’t want to know what’s through those doors, though. The wing has a strange smell, reminiscent of a hospital. 

Trying to break into the unknown wing seems like a bad idea, but there’s nowhere else you can escape from. You haven’t been able to locate a window that isn’t inaccessible or barred, nor have you been able to find an exit that is unlocked. However, even if you did find either of those things, the constant surveillance by the others makes it nearly impossible to escape. You reason your best bet is still to bide your time. Thankfully, it’s not too tortuous to go along with everything. You mostly find yourself bored or annoyed. 

You’ve been occupying most of your mind lately by observing everyone. You need to predict the villains if you still hope to escape. Of course, that’s easier said than done for some members. Toga, Twice, Shigaraki, and Kurogiri speak their minds freely, so it’s easier to understand them. Mr.Compress is slightly on the reserved side and seems to be a bit of a strategist, but what makes him easier to analyze is his lack of impulses and instability. Dabi, on the other hand, is a complete wild card to you. He’s somewhat quiet, but when he does decide to speak, his words are ladened with sarcasm or insults. Dabi is by far the most frequently injured out of all of them, yet he barely shows any signs of pain. It surprised you that despite his wounds, he hadn’t approached you yet. He just regarded you with lazy eyes, gazing at you silently. He seemed distant from the other members, often choosing to wander the streets in search of new recruits instead. You guess that he is neither very convincing nor friendly given the state of his body after his outings. He smelled of ash each time. Regardless of his quirk’s effects on him, Dabi continued to use it anyways. You reason that continuously burning yourself takes a considerable amount of dedication and tolerance to pain. He’s driven, for sure, but to what?

It’s an interesting question, but you’re pulled out of your thoughts before you can mull it over. The bar door clicks, the telltale sound of the lock turning. Through the door comes Dabi, and along with him is the smell of ash. He’s quiet, but so is the bar. Wait, how long has it been quiet? You realize that it’s just you and him in the bar. You would silently curse yourself for letting the opportunity escape you, but you’re thankful you were distracted. Nothing good would come to you, had you seized the moment and attempted to bolt. With Dabi being just outside the door, you were saved by your thoughts. 

He seems to sense your staring, as his eyes meet yours. You try to suppress the way you feel when his intense gaze bores into you. There’s a glint of surprise in his eyes. “‘M surprised they left you down here alone. Unless… were you cooking up an escape plan?” He interrogates. 

“I guess even wardens need breaks. Not like I could go anywhere though, the doors are locked,” you admit. You rest your face in your palm and entertain yourself by tracing your fingers around the rim of a glass left on the bar top. “Besides, you’re here now. Your quirk has range over me.”

Your words take him a bit by surprise. You’re smarter than he initially gave you credit for, not that he thought you were stupid before. It’s just that he only really saw the feistier side of you. With how you barked back at Tomura, he thought you’d be the type to make rash choices. Instead, he’s having a hard time predicting you. The things you say and do surprise him. While Toga and Twice crowd around you, he observes you from a distance. He convinces himself it’s necessary to figure you out. 

You feel him staring at you again. He seems lost in thought. His staring makes you uneasy and the silence feels strange. You decide to joke around with him, to see if it lightens up the mood or if it creates more tension. Seeing his reactions could lead you to predict him more accurately in the future. “I know it’s called head-hunting but something tells me you’re taking that expression too literally,” you comment, referencing his habit of coming back with burned hands.

“Oh yeah? What’s got you thinking that?” He banters back. 

You shoot him a sly smile, “Just noticed your recruitment process involves a lot of fresh burns, is all.” Usually, Dabi would have killed people for less, joke or not. For some reason, it’s different with you. Perhaps it’s because even with your situation as a captive, you still don’t seem fearful of him. He wants to test that.

“Hazards of the job I guess,” he shrugs. You only hum in acknowledgment. “Mind taking care of them for me?” Your eyebrows shoot up a bit at his question. The tables have turned and now it’s your turn to be surprised. 

“Yeah, I can do that,” you comply. You slide off the barstool and approach him. “Do you have any other injuries besides the burns?”

“Might be a staple or two loose,” he mentioned. 

“Tomura gave me a first aid kit and medical supplies, I think there are medical staples too. They’re in my room. Do you want me to lug all that down here or…” You say, trailing off at the end in a question. 

“There’s no point, it’ll be quick,” he declines. He gestures to you and the stairs. “Lead the way.”

You nod. His thick boots make distinctive footfalls while walking behind you. You try to memorize the way they sound, in case it becomes important later. Your attention is focused on his steps, so the two of you arrive at your door in silence. You open the door and cross the threshold of the doorway. He hovers at the entrance. He realizes this is the first time he’s really been in a girl’s room before, but he’s totally not the slightest bit antsy about it. He didn’t even enter your room when he first questioned you about your quirk. Now that all of your things are unpacked, it just feels so much more… Intimate? 

“I don’t have much in the seating department so just sit on the bed or something,” you instruct. Your back is to him as you gather the supplies together. He tentatively enters and sits on the made bed. The mattress creaks, the sound partially muffled under the thick comforter. He’s not sure what to do with his hands, so he makes himself look busy by fiddling with the staples. You must have found everything you needed as he notices you setting down a box of first aid supplies next to him. You stand in front of him and reach for his hands. Your touch is soft and gentle as you observe his injuries. It throws him off, honestly. You’re aware of his disastrous quirk and you have an idea of what he does, yet your touch makes him feel like he’s made of glass. He expected you to be rough with him, taking out your anger at your circumstances onto him. After all, you’d still be getting the job done, just in a spiteful way. What’s stopping you from doing so? Is it fear that’s making you gentle on him?

You start cleaning his burns and his loose staples, carefully gliding a wet cotton ball over the area. For good measure, you wipe down the skin of your hands with an alcohol swab. Your quirk doesn’t do much against infection after all. Finding out how Tomura would react, should something like that happen on your watch, doesn’t sound appealing either. You whisper out a ‘sorry’ after you fix the loose staples. It looks like it should hurt, but Dabi doesn’t react much. You figure he must have a high pain tolerance.

You clasp your hands around one of his. Your skin glows and becomes icy once you activate your quirk. The coolness of your skin should be relieving, but he can’t seem to enjoy it. The question is nagging him. Fuck it, he decides he can just ask you directly. “Are you afraid of me?” You tear your attention away from his hands. Your e/c eyes meet his. There’s a look of confusion in them, as to you, this question comes from nowhere. 

“No..?” You answer. Your voice is a bit wobbly with suspicion. “Why? Are you going to give me a reason to be?”

He’s dumbfounded by you. If you weren’t afraid of him, you had to be either stupid or crazy. It has to be the latter, because why else would you be treating him gently? “Did Tomura pick you up at an insane asylum?”

“Did I look like I was wearing a straight jacket when he brought me here? What gives with these questions anyways?” 

“You’ve gotta be crazy or stupid to not be afraid of villains like us.” 

“So that’s what this is about? You’re upset that I’m not scared of you?” 

“I’m not upset. It’s just weird.” 

“Okay look, Tomura wants my quirk and my compliance, I want to live. The way I see it, no harm’s gonna come to me so long as I heal you guys. That’s why I’m not wallowing in fear,” you defend. “Is thinking that really so crazy?”

He contemplates your words and you switch off to heal his other hand. “One look is all it takes for normal people to fear me,” he says. You can’t tell if he’s hurt by this, or proud of it.

“Well, your appearance doesn’t scare me,” you admit. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. 

“That’s why you aren’t normal.”

[waxingrunes]

what are your thoughts on tracing ? because im fairly new to digital art and i’ve been trying to draw this truck forever now and i cant !! but i cant help but feel that if if i trace its cheating ?? but like also fuck that because art is art but some people can be really mean about it.

I’ll be really transparent with you here and you might not like my answer for that fact.

Firstly, as a beginner (I’ll circle back to this later in my answer) you do whatever you need to do in order to get comfortable with your style and learn. Trace the truck, trace whatever you need to and evolve and adapt as you go, I’m rooting for you newbie.

To answer on a greater scope, I’m very much of the mindset that this place is a stupid little ‘community’ for us to all enjoy no matter what you like or do or don’t do, or to what level. No piece of art created within this fandom space is up for exhibition in the Tate, none of it is up for marking or comparison, etc and should be created however you want to create it. Nothing here is that deep at the end of the day and every single one of us should be here to enjoy the same fictional characters no matter what.

All this being said I will be honest and say, I know for fact one or two artists here trace and make out it’s ‘100% their own’ and some of this stuff is so painfully obvious it’s traced, it makes me wildly confused when the hoards of ‘talent’ comments pour through. I hate this part of me that twists in annoyance because the other half up there ^ wants to throat punch me for it. What pains me about it, I think, is when people will claim one thing to be true when it’s not. They don’t have to make a big show out of it or how/where their materials are coming from, I’m not asking for a dedicated paragraph every time with cited sources and images, just be a bit more honest and transparent about where your shit’s coming from. If that’s AI, amazing, just don’t pass it off as your own. If that’s tracing, nothing wrong with that, just don’t churn out piece after agonising piece and say “I only use references” when it’s eye-wateringly clear that’s not the case. If I see it, I won’t be mean about it, just suffer in silence. And if the topic comes up amongst people I trust I’ll pass my opinion between those safe walls, as I don’t advocate for unwarranted, uninvited public criticism.

I don’t want to discourage anybody from learning to draw digitally through tracing because we all start somewhere. I’m pretty certain I had a sketchbook in the womb with me and have drawn humans/bodies/animals/basically living forms for a long time, but anything else like trees, buildings, furniture, scenery (this fucking car I’m trying to draw for the next piece) I suck at and absolutely despise doing. It bores me, but as a personal choice I won’t turn to tracing because I want my art to be consistent (-ly shit) over suddenly perfect. I don’t think I’m superior for making that choice and am not saying you suck for wanting to trace because honestly, I am constantly oscillating between ‘it ain’t that serious’ and ‘I just wish people would be more honest’.

I’m still going bet you regret fucking asking! Basically I’ll never be a dick about it if I see it or someone tells me, ‘hey I trace!�� Because good for you, give us the good shit, give us the characters and pairings we want in that form and I’ll eat it up just like the rest of us because we’re starved. But yeah, food for future thought maybe.

[silvysartfulness]

Talk Shop Tuesday: How do you decide which scene in a chapter of HHaR to illustrate? And are there any scenes that you'd like to illustrate but haven't had time/energy/etc.?

It’s always a careful see-saw balance between “interesting scene from the chapter that I would enjoy drawing and think people would like to see drawn” and “I’m a lazy, low-spoon disaster and will cop out on anything too complicated”..!

For example, I absolutely hate drawing interior settings, so you will notice there are very few detailed indoor scenes - and the times they spend entire chapters indoors and I can’t escape it, the settings tend to be very vague. So usually, if I have the choice, I’ll avoid any scenes taking place inside.

Drawing unnamed, random npcs/crowds is also boring/taking too many spoons, so again I tend to avoid those (or making the people around them silhouettes or just very roughly sketched background figures). Architecture is another headache – if I have decent refs and I really want to convey the atmosphere of a place, I’ll sometimes draw cityscapes, but I’m a happier artist when I don’t have to.

So in short, if I can get away with character close-ups or doing landscape backgrounds, that’s what I’ll likely go for, especially if I’m a bit low on spoons!

Sometimes I really do want to capture something more complex, though – the latest one, with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji as guest stars took me forever to draw, because I hadn’t drawn those two before, and I had to start by going through the last few episodes of the series to screengrab a whole bunch of refs, and then actually draw their faces, decide on which of their outfits I wanted to draw, then find refs for that etc. It took a lot of time and work. 🥲

And yeah, there are absolutely many scenes I would love to see drawn, even though I don’t have the time or energy for it – there’s a reason I so often wish for commission slots for birthdays and Christmas! I love to see others tackle those scenes! Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen meeting on the bridge in Hongqi, the three of them cuddled up together in the ruins of Dushou, the trio walking toward the temple of Yanxia Guan, almost drowning in the river after fighting the catfish yao… I’ve been blessed with so many gorgeous commissioned works!

Not to mention the amazing fanart some people have given me! It takes my breath away every time someone decides to draw something from the story just because they felt inspired to, absolute pure magic! The best feeling in the whole world! 😍

As for specific scenes I would love to see drawn, either scraping my own spoons together or commissioning others to… 🤔

Song Lan possessed by the mist spirits and fighting Xue Yang is such a striking visual in my mind, with his white eyes and mist trailing from nose and mouth!

Song Lan dragging/carrying a crying, drunk Xue Yang up the stairs and into his room in Muaishan, or possibly the following utter breakdown.

Song Lan’s shock when Xue Yang tells him about the death sentence awaiting him in Jinlintai and/or the follow-up shock when Xiao Xingchen is let in on it.

Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang by the little impromptu shrine Xue Yang made for Jin Guangyao

More art of the three of them cuddling in Dushou, tbh, because it’s the first time they allow themselves to snuggle up that way on purpose, all three of them, and I love that for them! 🥰

The smut scenes – I’ve only drawn one of those. Now that we can’t post porn on tumblr anymore, it feels like there’s little point to put in all that work, because I couldn’t share such art in many places. But I still love to see it!

I originally wanted to draw the trio and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji having dinner and talking together for chapter 57, but was once again defeated by old nemesis - interiors. It was bad enough drawing 5 detailed characters in a single illustration, I would not also have to deal with walls and furniture and stuff. 😒

That's some of the ones that come to mind! So many scenes, so few spoons! (And apparently I'm supposed to be writing the damn thing, too! 😭)

Thank you so much for asking! 💚

[abibliophobiaa]

kiss me

not sure if I love this one or hate this one. but here’s some friends-to-lovers/ tasm!peter x f!reader fluff.

“You’ve been best friends for three years and you’ve never kissed? Never thought about testing the waters? Shaking things up?”

Your head shakes. “No.”

“Not even once? I find that hard to believe.”

“Nope.” The ‘p’ pops loudly as you drop down onto your chair, clacking your thumb against your keyboard. The screen in front of you illuminates, familiar logo of The Daily Bugle greeting you.

So you’ve harbored feelings for Peter for three years? So what. It’s not like you’d ever tell him. There were certain feelings meant to be kept to one’s self. These seemed to be those kinds of feelings. Friendship with Peter was easy and safe. You liked both of those things. Complicating that with feelings wasn’t on your itinerary.

“So you wouldn’t care if I asked him out?” Betty asks at last, plopping down in her desk situated outside of their bosses office.

You bite your lip to keep the hurt from bubbling up and giving away your deepest secret. Begin typing away at an email waiting for you in your currently overflowing inbox. She passes you a knowing smirk, lowering her own gaze to her notebook.

“Absolutely not.”

You regret the words as soon as you utter them.

—

“Weirdest thing happened to me today.”

Peter pulls out a chair across from you at your favorite coffee shop. Bean a Day. It’s a small corner cafe with potted plants dangling in every corner of the room, lit up with fairy lights and rustic furniture as far as the eye can see.

“Lots of weird things happen to you all the time.” You lean forward onto your elbows. Hands come up to cup around your mouth as you whisper out, “Like that spider—”

Peter clasps a hand in front of your mouth dramatically. Tosses his straw wrapper at you next. Your hand comes up to swat it away—to swat him away, really. Exhaling, you lean back in your chair and twirl your straw around and around in your iced coffee. Once the proper color, you sip.

“Betty asked me out…I think?” His voice grows an octave higher at the end. Just like it always does when he’s confused. Your heart sinks within your chest, though this would be a moment where it should, instead, leave you alone.

“Did she now?” You try to act shocked. You are shocked, though. Betty only asked earlier that morning what you thought about her potentially dating him; you hadn’t thought she’d move that quickly with the idea. With a cough, you continue, “What did you…uh…say?”

“I said yeah,” he admits, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a slow sip of his caramel latte. It’s done in a way that draws your eye, led to wonder that, if you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, you would taste those sugary sweet notes.

Instead, you imagine the blonde back at the office giggling brightly. Wonder if it’s her lips he’ll kiss after a night out on the town. Maybe after a movie or a candlelit dinner. You tamper those thoughts and glance down at your watch. Peter catches your wandering attention and leans across the table to curl his index finger and thumb around your wrist. Your pulse leaps at the small gesture.

“Should I have said something else?”

Yes.

You shake your head. “No. That sounds great. I’m happy for you, Petey. Really happy.”

—

Peter looks nice for his date. He told you at the cafe they had set up for Friday after work, but your heart hadn’t been prepared for the sight he makes that day when he comes in wearing a new button up. Sleeves pushed up to his elbows—all veiny forearms and bulging muscles on display. The nerve of him to look that good. His shirt a pretty blue that suits him. Makes your heart do a quick somersault in your chest as he runs his fingers through his forever unkempt hair that would look ridiculous on anyone else but just works on him.

He compliments your dress when he walks in. So maybe you’d also picked something new up at the store? It had been an emotional purchase; one fueled by unrequited feelings. A little black number that made you feel like you could conquer the world.

Eat your heart out, Parker.

“Thanks,” you mutter out, clicking your pen and setting it atop your notebook.

“New?” he asks, stopping to stand in front of your desk.

“Yeah.” You wonder briefly where Betty is. The work day ended fifteen minutes ago. Usually by now the both of you are finishing wrapping things up for the day.

“You look beautiful,” he says, a little breathless. You lift your head at that, smiling softly. “I—I mean you always do. But…yeah. Today. Really…beautiful.”

You’re about to say something when Betty rushes out from Jameson’s office, looking like a blonde dream with her long, flowing hair and pop of red lipstick on her perfect, pouty lips. Your smile drops as she quickly rearranges her desk, offering her apologies for being late.

You don’t expect her next words, however, “I’m so sorry, but something came up and I have to cancel. You two should definitely go on ahead to that restaurant I made reservations for. It’s this new spot. Really romantic. Booked out for weeks.”

Neither of you speaks. Not even as she grips her pocketbook, slings it over her shoulder, and rushes out of the building like she has a train to catch. When reality settles back in, your eyes flicker to Peter, looking just as equally dumbfounded as you’re certain you look right about now.

“What do you say?” Peter muses, extending an arm to you. “Have dinner with me, sweet thing?”

‘Like a date?’ you want to ask. The words cling to your tongue.

“Like a date.” It’s like he can read your mind. Your stomach clenches. “Well, not like a date. A date date. Do you want to go…on a date with me?”

“I would love to.”

—

Betty was right. The restaurant is gorgeous. All vaulted ceilings. Dim chandelier lighting. Candles lit at every table, with a singular rose poised in the center. Perfect date night. For the date…that you’re presently on with Peter.

There’s only one question pressing on your mind, and you voice it to Peter early on into the evening, “Do you think Betty set us up?”

Peter takes a sip of his water, drumming his opposite thumb against the table. His fingers lay mere inches from yours—a fact every inch of your being hones in on.

“One thousand percent. The reservation was under both our names, apparently the owner is actually her Uncle and—”

“A bottle of champagne, especially for you two,” your waiter says, appearing without warning in front of the table. He addresses you both by name, adding, “Your friend Betty has sent her well wishes for your evening. We hope you enjoy.”

“She so set us up,” you hiss half-heartedly, pouring yourself a glass of champagne before moving to fill Peter’s.

“Should we make a toast then?” Peter quips, lifting the flute.

You lift yours before him, beaming in the candlelight. “What are we toasting to?”

“To a beautiful night with an even more beautiful woman.”

He grins, and it sends off thousands of butterflies into flight.

—

You feel giddy and light and it has absolutely nothing to do with the champagne. Instead it’s the man walking beside you on your way back to your apartment, fingers brushing yours every so often as you amble down the snow-slicked streets. Dinner had been filled with light conversation. Teasing remarks and banter you might have made yourself believe could have been flirting. Flirting with Peter Parker. Unheard of.

“Can I make a confession?” Peter asks suddenly, turning down a street that brings you right to your doorstep. You still in front of him, smiling as his hand comes to curl fully around yours, drawing you closer to him.

“Sure.”

You’re breathless. Puffs of cold air burst and mingle in the space between the two of you. It dawns on you that it grows shorter with every passing moment.

“Betty orchestrated this whole thing, but she wasn’t alone in it.” At your wrinkling brows, he continues, “She had a sidekick in on the job with her.”

“An informant?” Your lip quirks at the corner.

He smiles. Takes another step closer. “I, uh, only got the idea after she mentioned you got a little jealous when she teased you about how we’ve never kissed or anything in all the years we’ve been friends.”

“She acted like it was this foreign thing. For a guy and a girl to be platonic all this time.”

“But we’re not. Not fully, at least, right? Unless I’ve read tonight all wrong.” Peter toys with the sleeve of your jacket nervously, his dark eyes meeting yours in the lamplight emanating from your front door window. “Or really read the past few years all wrong.”

You think to all the late movie nights. The way the two of you were overtly touchy for people who claimed friendship. How you texted all hours of the day, despite the fact you worked together and hung out most weekends. How you told him everything and he reciprocated all the same.

“I mean…I don’t know, you tell me,” you whisper, aware that you’re trembling is no longer from the cold.

He steps closer still. Chest brushing yours on that front step as his hands come to hover near your hips, his eyes asking you a question without ever speaking a word. Your head dips and his hands find purchase on either side of you, drawing you near to him. It’s a weird, thrilling, and wonderful feeling to have him so close. To feel his warmth at your hips. Your chest. To feel his breath dancing along your face. His heart hammering swiftly against your own.

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t dreamed about this a time or two,” he says softly, forehead dropping against your own.

You run your nose along his. Slide a palm up and over his chest. Settle it there over his heart. “Only a time or two?”

“Maybe three times…tops.” He chuckles lowly.

You smirk. “What exactly happens in this dream?”

He exhales and presses his index finger to your chin. Tips it up ever so slightly until your eyes meet his. You feel every inch of you spark under his stare.

“I tell you that the moment I met you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. But that I was so nervous, I dropped my coffee all over myself.” He had. You can recall the moment clearly. His horrified face all widened in terror as everyone paused mid conversation to look his way. “I shelved us right into the friend zone. Because how could I ever redeem myself after that stunning display?”

You hum when his hand comes up to slide across your cheek, fingers just reaching around the back of your neck. “I ask you if you have this overwhelming feeling whenever we’re together. Like this sense of right that just feels wrong with anyone else.”

“What do I say in this dream?” You ask.

“Let me finish,” he chuckles lightly, tucking his other arm around your waist. Cradling you against the heat of him.

“Testy, testy,” you joke, the tip of your nose bumping against his. Your mouth lingers just centimeters from his. The heat of his breath dances along your lower lip. If you tip your head up just so, you would be kissing him.

You want to kiss him.

“I hold you just like I am right now,” he whispers, and your arms come to wind around his neck. Toes leaning up ever so slightly to get closer to him. “And then I ask if I can kiss you finally.”

“What happens next?” you ask, exhaling slowly.

“Usually, this is right around where I wake up,” he says, tipping his mouth downward ever so slightly. “So it’s really whatever we decide.”

“Kiss me.”

It’s a whisper. A plea. A mantra. You’re not even sure, but as soon as it sounds from your lips he’s leaning down and capturing your mouth with his own. Silencing any further questions as to whether or not he’s felt the same as you. Feels the same as you.

He’s warm and his kisses are sweet. The taste of lingering champagne clings to his tongue as it meets yours, weaving new secrets meant only for the two of you. A silent exchange of ‘are we really doing this’ and ‘we absolutely are.’ As he leans back, you find you already miss him. Lean forward to press another kiss into his skin. Another secret.

“Since we’re making up our own story from here on out…come inside?”

He pauses. “Yeah?”

“I’ll make you hot chocolate and you can tell me more about this plan you concocted with Betty. I still can’t believe the two of you did this.”

But, as he clasps his hand in your own and kisses you just before the two of you step into your apartment, you find yourself grateful they did.

[buckyownsmylife]

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever!  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it,  starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

[gretel-moonlit]

Mundane and Random Headcanons That I'm Inexplicably Really Attached To: Celery Edition

Because I miss headcanon posts and I wish more people would make them

You will not catch Celeste out of bed before 11am or asleep before 3am of her own free will. Because of that, she barely gets any sleep while she's in school and always ends up falling asleep the minute she gets back from class for at least a few hours

Kyoko will sometimes put her hair in a braid if it's really getting in the way, but other than that, she hates putting it up, so it's usually down unless Celeste styles it for her

Neither of them has legible handwriting. Celeste can write in a fancy style for her whole image, which she tells people is her actual handwriting, but it takes her forever, and Kyoko types everything she possibly can in order to avoid anyone finding out because she thinks it's unprofessional

Their apartment/house full of fancy furniture and antiques because Celeste likes to collect them. Technically a lot of it doesn't exactly match, but it all looks good together, even if it is alot of stuff.

Additionally, Celeste really likes to collect furnace and antiques and any interesting items she wins in tournaments, so her dorm room/apartment/ anywhere she lives always ends up looking like an overly decorated antique store. Nicely decorated, but kind of cluttered at the same time

Celeste loves sweet things while Kyoko thinks anything even remotely sweet is too sweet. She does like salty snacks though

also Celeste hates admiting it, but she has the taste of a child when it comes to food. She hates most vegetables and would much rather eat random snack foods than an actual meal. She probably also puts way too much sugar in her tea, royal milk tea is already sweet and she probably adds more sugar after she makes it

Kyoko gets insists on driving whenever they go anywhere because Celeste is a terrible driver. She never does anything super dangerous (not regularly at least) but her driving is bad enough that no one believes she actually passed her driver's test

Celeste really likes to talk, and if given the opportunity by she will go on and on telling various stories (real or fake depending on how comfortable she is with the other person) or talking about stuff she's interested in. She also has a tendency to over explain things, especially when she's nervous

Kyoko always insists on putting any bugs outside and not killing them or just leaving them alone, but Celeste will smash them with no remorse

Celeste draws semi regularly but refuses to let anyone know she can because all she draws edgy anime art (think like 2013 emo nightcore thumbnails) because got into drawing from reading manga as a kid

When they go to the grocery store, Celeste is always the one to make the grocery list and plan meals and stuff but they always go in the evening right before they close because neither of them like being in crowded stores

Also they always end up coming home with snacks they didn't plan to get because they both like them but are kinda too embarrassed to admit it to each other, at least for awhile

Celeste gets cold easily, but she still likes to sleep under a bunch of blankets in a really cold room. Kyoko thinks she's being ridiculous, but she can sleep pretty much anywhere, so she kinda just accepts it

Celeste likes to daydream and spends alot of time staring into space thinking about something unrelated when she's in class or group conversations or anytime she gets board, but she's really good at tricking people into thinking she's paying attention

Also she gets board easily so she ends up picking up alot of weird and random hobbies, especially after she graduates school and only has her gambling matches to go to

Celeste had a edgy vocaloid phase that she's still definitely in but she will deny it until the day she dies. She was definitely the kid in middle school that was super into Daughter of Evil and her favorite vocaloid would totally be Rin just because of that I don't make the rules

[losingherface]

I have the moon

Warnings: Quick ish Smut, 18+

Info : It’s Ellie and readers first night at their new house, that used to be Joel’s.

A/n: srry if it’s terrible, i’ve been busy and just not in the mood to write if i’m being honest but yeahhh also I would love to have requests that obviously fit within the story line because I’m getting a bit dry :))

•

The boxes were full and ready to go. It took about a month to pack up and completely move into Joel’s farmhouse.

It was strange seeing your apartment empty. You had lived here on your own for so many years before Ellie came along. The furniture had changed over the years, and pretty much everything did due to Ellie moving in, having dogs, they suddenly die, having cats, and they suddenly died as well. But this time, it was finally empty, it looked like it did when you had first bought it. It looked like you kept it the same all these years.

You handed the key to your landlord, Britt, she was always fun and kept you company before Ellie, when you were depressed about your job, or anything really. It was hard seeing you go and you felt the same of course. She held you in the tightest hug and it felt like a stab in your heart. But you wanted this, so you weren’t really worried about how you’d feel in a few days.

Ellie waited for you in the car. When you got inside, you immediately noticed the constant smile on her face, she would try hiding it but you could tell, and god that made you feel so good.

It was a long month. From the wedding, to Joel dying, and now this, moving five hours from the city into a rural town where you two would be basically separated from everything, it was a lot. Now you were ready to get to your new home and nap it all off.

•

Jesse, Dina, Tommy, and Maria had all helped move us in throughout the week, and make things comfortable for us. Dina couldn’t get over the countryside and Jesse was irritated by her constantly whining to move closer to us as their baby, JJ, spilled his juice everywhere and made a mess. You were ready for them to leave. Reaching over to pull JJ away, from potentially making another huge mess, Dina calls you to the kitchen.

You were close to losing your temper but instead just ignored it, maybe Ellie will do something.

“Yea?”

“I love these counters, I have a friend if you guys ever need a renovator.” Dina told you as she took out something from the oven, your attention immediately going there.

“Yea I know, What’s that in the oven?”

“My special banana bread, so you can think of me when we leave.”

It was literally all you wanted right now.

“Thanks Dina. I’m going to miss you. And that baby of yours.”

•

As for Ellie, she had been fine, for the most part. She hadn’t completely opened up about how she was feeling but you knew it was passing by. Passing by as in, she was accepting that she’ll never talk to Joel again, not that she’s getting over it and forgetting about him- she’ll never forget him, it was her dad. There was a glow that sat beautifully on her face and it was the same glow she had when you two got married, when you two would be in each other’s presence. It seemed that was her way of telling you but not telling you either that she was content and you loved it.

Your head peaked out of the kitchen once again to look at Ellie, JJ and Jesse in the living room. Ellie had been playing with JJ and you couldn’t help but lose your train of thought. It was so cute when she did that.

•

Dina, Jesse, and JJ were finally leaving. You were going to miss your best friend as she wasn’t just down the street anymore, she was five hours away. Her baby was getting older, and soon it was time she would have to start paying full attention to him so the chances of regular communication were getting lower.

You couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken.

•

After everyone left, you devoured the banana bread with a large cup of milk, leaning over the counter, nitpicking everything in your head about this house.

You remembered Ellie had been setting up her art room, it was a nice size and way better than the balcony at the apartment. You cleaned yourself up and walked to the room.

The door was slightly open and the room had been quiet, only Ellie’s humming being heard.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Ellie said softly and you walked in. Shutting the door behind you, trying to not disturb the peacefulness.

“It’s late, do you want to come to bed?” You asked as you watched her draw yet another portrait of Joel.

She yawned and put down her pencil. She didn’t answer your question and instead walked over to you and hugged your waist while kissing down your soft neck. She pulled away, “Let’s go.” She stretched her long arm out for you as she opened the door, leading you to your new bedroom.

The bedroom was large, with a walk in closet, a bathroom and a beautiful large window that wasn’t covered with curtains for the purpose of the countryside view.

The room was obviously empty only with a bed that had pastel yellow sheets Maria had bought. You sat down on the bed as Ellie followed. She sat and watched you take off your pants leaving you only in your underwear and a slightly large shirt, Ellie had done the same only her top half was completely bare.

•

It was the middle of the night in the new house, the first night you two had slept there. It had a creepy feel to it. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the large window you had been facing. From the window where you had been lying down, you got a nice view of the farm and the night sky, and also an occasional few cars that would pass by.

It was so hot that you had been fighting with the blankets all night, whether they should be on or off. Looking over at Ellie, she had seemed to be sleeping like a baby. You continue to look at the window while laying down, eyes wandering all over the place. The time was 2:00 a.m. It was going to be a long night.

Sweat begins forming on your back, causing you to pull your shirt off, now only in your undergarments.

“I’m going to go look for a fan. I think he had one in the attic.” Ellie just randomly blurs out causing you to look at her, startled.

“Please, baby it’s so hot.” You say as you lean over to the small chair beside the bed and grab the water bottle, desperately chugging it again. As you did that, Ellie leaves to look for a fan.

•

What had felt like forever, Ellie finally arrives with a fan. It was a decent size and was perfect. As Ellie plugs it in, you unclip your bra and let all of the cool air hit you before lying back in the bed, covering yourself with the blanket.

You hear Ellie rumbling into bed, a lot closer than before, wrapping her arm around your body, pulling you closer. It felt so nice to have her this close, as she really hadn’t been willing to for a few months. Also with the heat, you’d just hate being that close.

Ellie takes her warm and soft lips, and presses it on your neck. Kissing you up and down, you closed your eyes hoping she wasn’t just giving you a goodnights kiss but wanted more.

You pull your blanket down from your face to show her your exposed breasts, ready to be caressed and sucked on (lmfao idk how else to say it).

She looks at you with a slight smile before kissing your temple. “Please..” You whisper, grabbing her head with both of your hands, she knew exactly what you wanted. You adjusted your position, lying on your back, waiting for Ellie to slip under the sheet.

Ellie and you hadn’t been together like this in a while, considering everything she’s been through and the missed honeymoon. You can see it on Ellie’s face, she felt so good at this moment. Her face was lit up and the light coming from the night sky reflected on her face.

Ellie kissing down your neck, you move your hand over to caress her soft, slightly greasy hair. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you whisper, “I love you.” She breaks the kiss, whispering the same back to you before continuing to kiss, getting lower with each one.

At this point, you both knew exactly where this was going, it was one of Ellie’s favorite ways to make you smile. You spread your legs a bit further, allowing Ellie to have some space. You desperately throw the blanket off of the both of you to be able to see her. Her strong hands hold down both of your legs, her eyes lock with yours as she begins licking you right where you wanted her to. Your eyes begin to look drowsy as Ellie begins to pick up the pace. As you moan loudly, you notice Ellie smiling at you making your sounds every once and a while. Seeing her do that made you want more, you loved seeing her that way. You throw your head back into the fluffy, white pillow, grabbing onto anything that was in your region as Ellie relentlessly pleased you with her wet, warm tongue.

you were a mess and by the time you were able to let it all out over Ellie’s sweaty face, you were covered in your own sweat, sitting up on elbows, looking at Ellie get up and move towards you.

Ellie grabbed the blanket nearby and covered you and herself up. You immediately wrap your body around hers, pressing light kisses to her face.

“I forgot how much I love doing that.” Ellie says as you slowly begin to open your eyes.

You propped your head up on your elbow, leaning into Ellie more, caressing your hard, short nails up and down her back. “It looked like you really needed that.”

“Yeah, I think us moving into this house, and getting to do that, makes me feel better.” Ellie struggled to say but it was genuine and you knew she’d be back on her feet again in about another week.

You didn’t know what to say, Ellie’s smile forming on her face effortlessly put you in awe and it left you there once again, staring at her because sometimes that’s all you could do. She appreciated it either way.

.

A/N: I suck at comforting ppl irl and it rlly shows in these stories, and this took me long cuz I can’t bring myself to write smut correctly so i was a little insecure but whatevererrr

[midearthwritings]

Aren't We Just Terrified?

Three brothers who actually were two brothers and a sister.

Words Count : 1,997

Pairing : Fíli, Kili & Transgender!Dwarven!Reader

Warning : Angst

Author's Note : In this one, the reader is MTF transgender. So I kind of hesitated to write and post it because I didn't know if people would like it. But I actually am quite satisfied with what I did so yeah, give me feedback?

Now, this was different. It gave you a certain freedom that breeches didn't allow. You liked it. The feeling at least. Because when you looked closer, it wasn't very aesthetically pleasing at the moment. Perhaps it was because of your hair? With a flick of your wrist, you brushed off the idea. It wasn't about the looks, right now. No, it was about how it felt.

For weeks, the dress had been laying under your bed, securely. You had been waiting for the right moment to try it on. It wasnt that easy to have time for yourself when you were royalty. Between your duties, and your two brothers who were glued to you like honey to a bear's teeth, you were never alone. Not that you were complaining, no. You loved your brothers and your education, despite being tiring, was important to you.

Your patience had paid off. So here you were, in the privacy of your bedchambers, twirling in one of your mother's dress.

Deep inside, you knew you looked a little bit silly —just a little bit—, doing random movements to see how the fabric reacted to your body. But it was worth it. Because for every shift of your arm, every tentative jump you took, it felt good. It felt right.

But little did you know that your peace wouldn't last, and you would have to cut your exploring escapade short.

You were in the middle of another timid twirl when the wooden door flew open.

"Can you, please, tell Fíli that using a bow doesn't- What are you doing?"

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around yourself, in a weak attempt to hide the clothing. Trapped. Trapped like a rabbit in a hunting party. No, worse. You had been caught, like a thief trying to steal from the King.

"Brothers!" You exclaimed, your voice shaking. "I will explain!"

What was there to say, really? The sight before them spoke by itself, your words would be useless.

Time stopped, as they both stayed still, staring at you. So, silently, you waited. You had done it for weeks, only to try on a dress. And yet, the five, or less, minutes you waited for your brothers to speak up felt like forever.

Then, suddenly, Kili shook his head in a slow, oh so very slow, disapproving gesture.

"No. This is not good."

His words resonated in your bedchambers, cutting the air like a sword cut the skin of its enemies, and breaking your heart in a billion pieces. Your fingers clutched the fabric of your mother's dress. Desperately, you looked at your eldest brother, pleading him to say something, anything. Fíli's silence was deafening.

Slowly, he narrowed his eyes. From head to toe, he scrutinized you. You felt naked under their judgemental gazes. And really, if you had had to choose, you would have rather been nude than living this situation. Because it was not supposed to happen. They were not supposed to come home from training this early, and much less walk in on you in woman garments.

When finally—finally— Fíli chose to speak up, you wished he hadn't. You wished he would've stayed quiet.

"It is not. At all." He said, earning an agreeing nod from Kili.

The world crumbled around you, the furnitures dancing in the room as you started to feel dizzy. Suffocating. You were suffocating. Yet, you stayed still.

Fíli was the first to turn around and leave, soon followed by your other brother. The door fell loudly behind them, its sound bouncing on the walls, echoing in your ears.

Slowly, you turned around, facing the mirror again. And through the tears, you looked at your blurry reflection. It looked ridiculously broken and lost. They had been right. It was not good, not good at all. Dis' dress was too tight for you, despite you not being as muscular as your siblings. The only part of the clothing that was too big was the upper part, where breasts were supposed to fill it.

Lips trembling, you grabbed the hem of the garment and brought it over your head to take it off. It fell to the floor in a soft thud, the deep blue fabric spreading like an enraged sea at your feet. Your eyes locked with those of the person in the mirror. It was a familiar figure, yet you felt like you didn't know who it was. Those broad shoulders and flat chest were someone else's. Not yours. You brought your hand to your face, following the stranger's sharp jawline with your fingertips. Droplets dampened your skin as warm tears slipped between your cheek and your palm.

All you had wanted was to feel beautiful for once, in that manly body of yours. And now, the two people you loved most on Earth would look upon you with disgust, instead of the adoring eyes they used to give you. You were sure that, soon, your mother as well as your uncle, would hate you too. Maybe they will be so disgusted that they'd ask you to leave. You will be very alone, in this world you knew nothing of.

At that thought, your tears doubled and a broken sob escaped your lips.

What stirred you out of your thoughts was the door opening again, and voices. In the mirror, you could see your brothers, arms busy with various items. Your eyes met Kili's and he smiled.

"Ah you undressed already." He pointed out. "Perfect. We had a bit of trouble finding the ones mom wore during her pregnancies but... Are you crying?"

You spun on your heels, facing them. Your brows furrowed in confusion. What was all this about? Kili punched the blonde Dwarf's arm and whispered loudly :

"I told you she would not like the green one!"

"You liar!" Fíli exclaimed, punching back. "I had picked the red one but you said green would suit her best!"

I told you she would not...

Green would suit her..

She... Her..

These two innocent words echoed in your brain, getting louder and louder.

"I do not understand.." You croaked sadly, bringing your brother's attention back on you.

They stepped forward.

"Well," the archer began. "Fili does not want to admit that it was me who wanted to pick the red dress for you."

You shook your head, completely lost.

"No..I mean. Do you not hate me? Are you not disgusted?"

The two princes looked at each other, now as confused as you.

"Why would we?" They asked at the same time.

"You said...And..the way you looked at me...You left...I thought..."

Your tears were stronger now, as you babbled nonsense. The confusion was overwhelming, and had they not dropped what they were holding to come hug you, you would've collapsed onto the floor. Instead, the descent was slow and gentle.

Reassuring hands were everywhere. Caressing your hair lovingly, rubbing your arms, drawing soothing patterns on your back.

"We could never hate you, Kidhuzel." Fíli whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"We said it was not good because..." Kili explained, reaching out behind the three of you to grab the discarded dress on the floor. "Blue clearly is not your color, Muhudel. Plus, it is a dress mom used to wear before she met our father. It is too small for your frame. You need something that fits."

You nodded timidly and looked up at your brothers, offering them a shy smile. One of them—you didn't notice which one— reached up to wipe your tears with his thumb.

"But I was trying on a dress and I am a-"

"A woman." The crown heir interrupted. "You are a woman. Listen to me, Mizimelûh. I have seen you grow up into a strong person. But never, before today, had I seen your eyes scintillating with such happiness."

"He speaks the truth." Kili added, tilting your chin up so you would look at him. "You never liked the way you look. Because it is not who you are. It is nothing to be ashamed of. The Gods made a little mistake when creating you and they put you in the wrong body."

The earlier heartache was now forgotten, replaced with comforting warmth, expanding throughout your limbs. You smiled, ignoring the pounding pain in your head caused by your crying. Timidly, you reached down and took the green fabric between your fingers. No matter who was it that choose the color, he had been right. It was a deep green, like the leaves covering large trees in forests. Yet, it looked softer, more welcoming, than the raging blue one. It was also larger than the other, which would make it appear nice and fitting instead of ridiculously too tight. And although the breasts problem remained, you found yourself wondering how it would look.

Above your head, you couldn't see, but your two brothers were looking at each others with the biggest smile planted on their face. They had been suspecting this for a while, but they had waited. Because after all, happiness takes its sweet time, doesn't it?

"How about you try it on?" The eldest spoke up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"And then, we will add a few more things, and style your hair so it looks really, really good. Is that alright?" Kili added.

You nodded eagerly and the three of you stood up. The dress was pushed past your head, falling on your body delicately.

After that, a strange procession, of which you were the center, took place.

Behind you, there was Kili, taking off the clasps that secured the few braids you wore. You felt his fingers working in your hair. And when you peaked in the mirror, you could see his tongue poking out, sign of how focused he was. It surprised you sometimes, how talented and gentle he was with other people's hair, when he couldn't even take care of his own.

In front of you, Fíli was tugging at the fabric, this or that way, clicking his tongue when he wasn't satisfied with what he was doing. And when he was done torturing the poor clothing, he grabbed a pouch and emptied it on the floor. You looked at all the precious jewels and accessories that were discarded at your feet.

"Did you ask mother before taking her belongings?" You asked.

"You know us." Kili's voice rose from behind. "We did not, of course. But she will not mind at all when she sees how beautiful her daughter is, wearing them."

Fili hummed approvingly from where he was and you bit your lip at the appellation. Yes, you definitely liked it.

It took them a bit more time, many doing and undoing, and an infinite amount of unsatisfied groans before they finally stood in front of you, side by side.

"How does it look...?" You questioned, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

"Why don't you turn around and see by yourself?" The blonde suggested.

And so you did. Shakily, you took in the sight of the new person in the mirror. The change was astonishing. Oh, your face still had some hard features. But the attention was taken away by the smartly placed jewels. Your hair had been tucked into a braid crown around your hair, decorated with smaller braids and clasps that were worn by women. A belt piqued with gemstones was circling your waist, hiding your large hips, and making the dress look less like a tube. And Fíli, intelligent dwarf that he was, had put the upper part in place with pins, therefore getting rid of the empty space.

Your eldest brother's arm circled your middle, and Kili's chin rested on your shoulder.

"What do you think about it?" The latter asked with a bright smile.

And when the mirror showed you how happy you looked altogether, you knew it was right. Slowly, you nodded at their reflection and in a soft murmur you said :

"It's good. Perfect."

-----

Translation :

Kidhuzel→ (the) Gold of Gold

Muhudel→ Blessing of Blessings

Mizimelûh→ Jewel of all jewels

[woodsteingirl]

A case in suburbia, domestic dynamics, and a forever home. What could go wrong?

the moment i’ve been waiting for! chapter one is up now! read here or under the cut.

Cas and Dean were searching for a forever house. They had been pretty much since Cas got back from the empty. They were ready to distance themselves from hunting. Dean had always wanted a sort of suburban, white picket fence life, even if he didn’t admit it to anyone. And since he already admitted how he truly felt to Cas, why not throw his need for a domestic lifestyle into the mix. Cas was all for it. Ever since Jack had given up most of his powers to Amara, thus causing her to take his place as God and him almost human, Cas had been hoping for a place to raise him like a normal child. The bunker was great for hunting and a place for Cas, Dean, and Sam, but not so much for raising a 5-year-old kid.

House hunting had been a burden to bear, but they were making out alright. Up till this, they’d looked at about 3 other houses. They were all a no for different reasons. The first one Cas decided was in a school district that wouldn’t be good for Jack, the second didn’t have a big enough garage or backyard, and the third didn’t have enough bedrooms for all of their family to stay. With the whole credit card scam they’d been running for as long as they remember, budget wasn’t really a problem, but they didn’t want something extravagant.

There it was, 538 Chapel Street in Pine River Crossings. It wasn’t too far out of Lawrence, only a few hours' drive, and all the houses looked nice. Very cookie cutter, but that was sort of the appeal. They couldn’t guarantee that they would fit in with the traditional, upper middle-class people, but what the hell, if they could kill god they could take suburbia.

A few days passed, and they were set up to look at the home. They drove the hour and a half to the next medium-sized town with the belief in their minds that this was the one. It had all they needed, a two-car garage, a respectable school district, and two guest bedrooms. They were so caught up in this concept they made the mistake of not checking the news for the nearby areas. Once they arrived, a realtor who showed them around the dwelling greeted them. It was all they could ask for and more practically too good to be true, especially for people like them. The actual presentation of the house went over without too many problems. The person exhibiting the residence commented on how it had been on display for almost a month now, which was the first red flag. A house as nice as this, in a densely populated area, would usually not be on the market for that long in weeks unless there was some hidden con.

They signed on it not a day after seeing the house in person. It was all set up and they could officially start moving stuff in the next week. They officially shared the good news with everyone the day after they signed. Sam was beyond happy for them. Not only would he finally have a space to himself, he was proud of his brother for living the life he’d always wanted. Jack was thrilled that he would get to go to actual school and have friends that were his age and not cosmic entities. In the meantime, Cas did more research into the neighborhood. There was their hidden con. The newspaper Cas had pulled up on his phone said, “Local Couple Murdered in Own Home.”

“Dean, look at this.”

Okay, that was a setback. A murderer on the loose in the neighborhood they were moving into was not exactly what he had planned, but he had delt with worse. “Alright, that could be a problem.”

“I think it’s a little bigger than a problem,” Cas retorted.

“Is it our type of thing or just something local law enforcement could deal with?”

Cas read on in the article, “the couple was stabbed, there was no sign of forced entry, neighbors reported nothing amiss besides lights flickering before the murder. The weapon, as well as the perpetrator, was never found. No official suspects have been labeled, everyone has seemed to have an alibi.”

“It definitely sounds like our thing. Lights flickering, no breaking and entering, and all.”

They decided they could pose as residents, as it seemed perfectly normal for the newcomers to be concerned about the literal murderer on the loose. Since Cas was newly human, and Jack was, well, 5, Dean thought they might need outside help. Being out of practice to spend more time with your husband and child really had its fallbacks. Sam was off the table as backup. He was out of town and Dean didn't want to interrupt his first weekend without him in god knows how long. Plus, they needed someone who wouldn't draw too much attention to their family dynamic.

“Hey, Cas, what do you think about calling in Claire to help us with this one? You think she’d do it?”

“Calling her in for help is a good idea, whether or not shed actually do it is another question.”

“I’ll call and ask, and if she wants to help, and if not then I can think of something else.”

He kept his promise and called Claire not an hour later. He decided it might be best not to tell her it was undercover work, or that it was taking place in a white picket fence neighborhood, as that might turn her off from it almost immediately.

“Hey Claire, its been too long since we’ve talked,” he started.

“Hi Dean. what do you want, there’s no way you’re just calling to catch up if you’re starting with ‘its been too long.’”

“You got me there. I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me and Cas on a hunt. Its not too far from the bunker and we’d have you back home in a week.”

“Sure, that works. When do we start?” She hadnt seen Dean and Cas since they rescued Cas. That was over a month ago, she’d been meaning to visit, but she’d been so busy with hunting, and getting to know Kaia again now that she was finally back. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to reconnect and not miss out on anything too big back at home.

“If you could come down here by Wednesday, that’d be great.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” She was tempted to sign off with an ‘I love you’ but she was never a lovey-dovey person in that way.

On tuesday she promised Jody she’d be extra careful and would be back in under a week. Kaia told her to make sure to call every day and update her on what was happening. Claire agreed, promising to keep in touch. She spent the rest of the day driving down to Kansas.

Back on Dean and Cas’s end, they were trying to get the house set up for 4 people when they had no furniture prior to this. Cas had always loved furniture shopping even before he had a use for it. When he worked at the Gas-and-Sip, he would browse the home improvement magazines in his spare time. Dean was pretty much the opposite. He had never had reason to care for it, so he didn't. Maybe his hatred for Swedish furniture was rooted in his deep-seated commitment issues. It didn't matter much why he hated it, he just left most of the choices up to Cas. there was then the issue of appliances and such you couldn't find in a furniture store. That was left up to him. Cas sent him out to Walmart to get things for the kitchen. That was something he could do. He picked out a mixer, some silverware, and a pioneer woman kitchenware set. It came with pots and pans, mixing bowls, and a few normal sized plates. That was enough for him to consider it an absolute steal. He brought his finds home to the bunker, setting them on the table designated for things that were to go in the new house. Jack was sitting on Cas’s lap, pointing at things on the computer.

“What’re you guys finding?” Dean asked, hovering behind Cas’s shoulder.

“Djungelskog!” Jack exclaimed, showing Dean a photo of a large stuffed brown bear.

“I thought you were looking for furniture?” Dean directed the question more at Cas, but he was still looking at Jack.

“We are. Jack just got us a bit sidetracked. We found the majority of what we need. Among other things not of as grave importance.”

Dean looked over the shopping cart and then gave the go ahead. Not before adding the stuffed bear to the cart, though.

The next day Claire arrived. Everyone was thrilled to see her. Jack ran up and threw himself around one of her legs and Cas gave her an awkward dad side hug. Dean wondered when he would tell her what the hunt would actually consist of, but he didn't want to interrupt the moment.

A few hours later, Dean fixed everyone a real dinner and had them sit down at the kitchen table. The realization dawned on him that this was going to be his last sit down meal officially living in the bunker. Everyone sort of just sat in silence for a beat. Perhaps reflecting on their own lasts of officially living there. “Claire, I sorta forgot to add this when I called you, but the case is a lot of undercover work. Also its in a suburban area.”

“And why didn't you tell me this sooner?”

“Well to speak freely, I wanted you on this case and I was worried it would make you not want to come.”

“It almost does, but i'm already here now, and i wouldn't want to waste a days driving on something i'm not actually going to do.” She guessed this would probably take longer than a week. “And i'm guessing this isn't just something you decided to do out of the goodness of your hearts?”

“We bought a house in the area, and we just wanted to make sure it was safe,” Cas explained.

“Hang on, you bought a house for real and you didnt even think to tell me? You didn't think that that was valuable information?”

“It didn't come up in our phone call,” Dean said.

“And? That’s no excuse to leave your daughter out of major life events!” The ‘daughter’ part just sort of came out without her noticing, but seconds after she said it she regretted it. God, how embarrassing.

“You’re right. We should’ve told you sooner. It was kind of a recent decision, though, so you haven’t been out of the loop for too long,” Cas said.

The next day was moving day. Dean loaded the appliances into the back of Claire’s car, since the back of the Impala was already full. Claire took her own car, while Dean, Cas, and Jack rode in Baby. Their real furniture was being delivered as they spoke. Cas offered to ride with Claire, but she assured him she’d be fine by herself. The drive wasn’t even that long, especially compared to the distance she drove yesterday.

Dean was silently nervous. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but it was written all over his face. His first real stable house, with the man he loved, and his two kids, he could only hope that he didn’t mess it up. Cas put a hand on his shoulder showing he saw how Dean was feeling.

They turned onto Chapel Street and pulled up into the driveway of the house. It somehow looked bigger and more daunting than it had during the walkthrough. Claire arrived almost ten minutes later. Everyone just sort of paused in front of the house for a minute, reveling in the stability most of them had never had.