#and it’s moving but very slow like oil in water so I don’t have to fully commit to one design for it hehehehehhe

[swordmaid]

thalia with her lava lamp swirls im vibing with it i think

[elizaleclerc]

suddenly, it was everything ✿

lando norris x reader

summary: fem best friend!reader and lando take a beach trip with friends as their relationship slowly turns into something more…(warning! smut & descriptions of blood)

songs: pink + white by frank ocean , the elevator by lizzy mcalpine , lunch by billie eilish (lol)

author’s note: i don’t typically write smut but i got an itch and had to scratch it with this one ; everyone knows about his feelings for you BUT you / hurt comfort / it’s always been you / other drivers playing matchmaker <3

word count: 4.6k

The warm sand tickled your legs as the ocean waves gently lapped at your feet. You had left your group basking in the sun on the beach to cool off in the refreshing water. Your close-knit friend group loved taking vacations during breaks in the intense racing season. This time, you found yourselves on the picturesque coast of France, staying in Alex's luxurious beachfront condo. You were grateful that he graciously offered to let everyone use his space for this trip.

Even as the only girl in the group, you were always welcomed with open arms, especially by Lando, who considered you his best friend. Charles, Lewis, and Oscar had all come to see you as a dear friend as well. They never complained about your company, as they relished in the joy of having you along on their adventures. Together, you formed a tight-knit family, seeking solace and tranquility in each other's company before diving back into the high-stakes world of racing.

You waded deeper into the water, feeling the gentle caress of the waves against your knees. Suddenly, you thought you heard the thump of feet on the sandy shore behind you. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of Lando running towards you, his feet pounding against the sand with reckless abandon. You let out a playful yelp as you knew he was coming to splash water all over you.

Without hesitation, you raced further into the water, diving head first into the oncoming waves in an attempt to escape him. The cool water enveloped your body, sliding smoothly over your sun-kissed skin that was glistening with oiled sunscreen. Emerging from the water, you looked around and saw Lando swimming a few feet away from you, his bronze muscles rippling as he glided through the water effortlessly.

“How’d you swim away so fast?” He shouted, making his moves closer to you. 

“Maybe you’re just too slow.” You let out a hearty laugh. Eventually his body was swimming inches away from you as the two of you moved further out from the shoreline.

“Well, maybe you’re just a fish.” He added, out of breath. You saw the bodies of your friends laying on the sand grow smaller and smaller the further you swam away.

As you and Lando waded in the cool water, you could feel his gaze upon you. You turned to him with a grin, taking in the sight of his tanned face and wet curls. The sunlight danced off his green eyes, making them sparkle like crystalized emeralds. "What?" you asked, noticing a subtle look on his face.

"Nothing, you just...you look very happy," he replied, causing your smile to grow even wider.

You couldn't help but giggle at his observation. "Well, I am happy. I've always loved the ocean," you sighed as you leaned back and let the water support your weight, floating on your back. As parts of your stomach and thighs broke through the surface of the water, you caught Lando's gaze lingering on your body once again.

You hadn’t gotten these looks from him before, or maybe you just never noticed them. You had known Lando since you two were small children, and had followed his side as he made his way through his career, being there with him every step of the way. As his closest friend, of course there was media circulation rumoring a romance between the two of you in the McLaren paddock. But you knew that you would never risk ruining your friendship for a romance. It wasn’t until now as you floated with the movement of the waves that you started to see how people could start those rumors. 

~

On the sand, Charles and Alex watched you and Lando swim out in the distance. “I figured he’d chase after her.” Charles sighed once Lando had jumped up to chase you in the water. 

“It’s so interesting, watching them interact,” Alex added, “so close to being a couple yet so far away.”

“And she still doesn’t know he’s obsessed with her?” Lewis asked, perplexed. 

“Nope.” Oscar chimed in, “I’m just as ready for them to make it official as anyone else. I’m tired of him coming to me to talk about his feelings.” They were each laying on their own beach towels, sunglasses propped on their noses, gossiping about you and Lando like elderly ladies at teatime. 

“You know it’s nice to talk about your feelings, Osc.” Charles laughed and Oscar shook his head. 

“Not when it’s the same thing over and over again. ‘Oscar I swear I’m in love with her.’, ‘Oscar did you see what she was wearing today.’, ‘When she hugged me she smelled so good Oscar.’” He mimicked Lando’s voice and accent, earning laughs from all of the boys on the beach.

“I wish there was something we could do to just push them along. Something to really make her see just how whipped he is.” Alex thought out loud,and the group sat in silence thinking for several moments. 

“Actually- we might be able to.” Lewis finally spoke, and everyone turned his head towards him. “Lando does so much for her everyday without her actually realizing why he does it. Maybe we can sneakily drop some comments about it. Just to make her think. I’ve always wanted to play matchmaker.” 

“That could work,” Oscar hummed, already thinking of how he’d approach things. 

“Are we sure that she’s actually going to like him back? I don’t think he’d be able to handle that rejection.” Alex questioned. 

Charles scoffed, “Oh, she definitely likes him. It just needs to click in her head.” He turned his head and saw your towel folded up by the bags, and decided to grab it, hiding it under his own towel. 

“Mate, what are you doing?” Lewis grinned, and Charles held a smirk on his face. 

“Just wait, you’ll see.”

~

For at least an hour, you and Lando splashed and swam in the crystal clear water, mesmerized by the breathtaking scenery of the French coastline. The sun's warm rays caressed your skin as you lazily floated on your back, gazing up at the cloudless blue sky above. But as your fingertips started to wrinkle and prune from being submerged for so long, you reluctantly decided it was time to bask in the sun's warmth and dry off on the sandy beach.

Lando was behind you as you stepped out of the water, following you back to where everyone was laying out. “You guys should really get in that water, it feels great.” You exclaimed, your body still dripping wet as you stood next to them. 

“No thanks, Y/N, the sun and sand is plenty enough for me.” Oscar replied, his inflection filled with sass. 

“Fine,” You sighed contently, searching for your towel amidst all of the bags of stuff the group brought down. 

“Looking for something?” Charles asked, noticing your confused look. 

“Yeah, I don’t know where my towel is. I swear it was right here when I left.” You were so confused as to how you could possibly lose a bright pink towel, but you had done it. You were about to just lay on the sand to dry off, but soon Lando was laying down his own towel.

“Here, just use mine.” He offered, placing it in the spot you were laying earlier. 

Your brows furrowed, “But then you won’t have one.”

Lando shrugged, “Eh, I’ll just run back up to the house and grab another one.” Your lips parted in shock. The group had traveled far down the barren coast line, and Alex’s place was at least a mile walk, all through sand, from where they were. 

“I don’t want you to have to do that,” You objected, knowing that his body must be tired from swimming for the last hour. You felt the tiredness in your own body as you were more than ready to lay down again. 

“Y/N, I’m an athlete, I think I can manage a little walk back to the house. Don’t worry about it.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, motioning for you to lay down on his towel. So you silently obliged, laying down on the warm, dry fabric. 

As Lando’s footsteps slowly trudged away, Oscar turned to look at you lying next to him. “That was nice, huh.” 

You nodded, as you grabbed your sunglasses and hat. “Yeah, I don’t know why he was so nice about it.” 

Charles laughed, “He certainly doesn’t treat any of us like that.” 

~

His words stuck with you for the remainder of the time you guys were on the beach that day. Slowly, you worked your way through your memories with Lando. He was your best friend, the kindest man you knew, and yet he did treat you differently than the other guys. He wouldn’t have given his towel to Alex or Lewis and walked all the way back up to the house. You thought back to the multitude of times Lando had brought both of you lunch on busy days around the paddock, taking the time out of his schedule to eat with you so you wouldn’t have to be alone. 

Once Lando came back, he had grabbed some fresh cut fruit, offering you some first before anyone else. He put his new towel down next to you, as the two of you shared orange slices. The sweet citrus flavor flooded your mouth, but you were still stuck on Charles’s words. 

You laid on your stomach, head resting on your folded arms as you looked at Lando. He was laying on his back, his eyes closed under his sunglasses. Your eyes traveled all around him, watching his curls slowly dry the longer you guys were in the sun. Your sight moved to his slightly sun kissed cheeks, and admired the way some of his freckles had begun to show with the introduction of the summer season. You observed how the bridge of his nose had a small bump in it, rounding out at the tip of his nose, the curves of his lips leading to his perfectly chiseled jawline.

The image of Lando’s face had been imprinted in your mind since you first met him, but you weren’t sure you had ever really paid attention to the details like you were now. 

~

The group called it quits for the day just before dinner time. You all made the trek back to the house, and everyone showered the coarse sand and sunscreen off of their bodies. With fresh clean and tan skin, the group chatted around the kitchen as everyone pitched in to help make dinner. 

You and Lando had been put in charge of chopping up the vegetables that were going into the pasta salad. You had to convince Lando that you could be trusted with the large and sharp knife. He prepped and washed the veggies as you chopped them. The two of you stood inches apart, his arm often grazing yours, sending chills through your body. You had never felt that way before with his slight touch, which sent your mind whirling once again.

Suddenly, as you were going to make another slice into some round baby tomatoes, the sound of broken glass echoed through the room as Lewis dropped a bottle of sauce from the cabinets, your body jolting in shock. With the harsh movement, the blade from the knife cut part of your finger. 

You winced  as trickles of blood blended into the vibrant red of the tomato juice. Lando’s eyes shot over to you, and immediately noticed your fresh cut. It was deep into your skin, slicing right through the fleshy part of the tip of your index finger.

You stood motionless, staring at the deep gash on your finger as blood ran down your hand. Suddenly, Lando's strong hands grasped your arms and guided you to the sink. The other boys crowded around, their faces etched with worry as they repeatedly asked if you were okay. With Lando's warm body pressed against yours, he turned on the faucet and held your finger under the cold water, which quickly turned pink from the blood.

“Lando, you take her to the bathroom by my bedroom. There’s bandaids and plenty of first aid supplies in there. Hopefully the cut isn’t deep enough to need stitches.” Alex had moved over to the veggies, saving the ones that weren’t ruined from the mess of your finger. 

The pain radiated from your finger, searing and intense. You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down your face as Lando calmly guided you to Alex's bathroom. Every step felt like agony, but Lando's strong grip never faltered.

You were still in shock, the burning sensation making it hard to think clearly. But Lando was a natural caregiver, moving confidently to retrieve supplies from the cabinets. You stood there, feeling small and helpless, as he laid everything out on the counter.

With gentle hands, Lando lifted you up onto the counter, giving you a better vantage point for him to clean and dress your wound. Despite your tendency to cry at the slightest injury, Lando remained calm and focused, his protective instincts taking over. As he worked, you couldn't help but marvel at how well he knew what to do in this situation.

As he pressed a cotton pad against the cut, you felt your feet sway slightly in the air. The amount of blood soaking into the white pad made your head spin and your vision blur. His voice was gentle and soothing as he reassured you, “It’s alright, you’re okay”, his hand holding yours with a firm yet delicate grip. You could feel yourself leaning into his touch, seeking comfort and safety from the pain.

With a quick, determined movement, he snatched the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the bathroom cabinet. The distinct smell of alcohol filled the air as he uncapped it, and you braced yourself for what was about to come. "This is gonna hurt," he warned, his voice full of concern. You felt a chill run down your spine as he poured the liquid over the wound, the intense burning sensation making you grit your teeth and let out a sharp whimper of pain. Your hand trembled uncontrollably as Lando's gentle touch on your thigh provided some comfort in the midst of this agony. "I'm so sorry, my love," he murmured as he continued to clean the cut, his eyes full of worry. "We can't risk an infection.”

You nodded as tears ran down your face again. He cleaned away any dirt and grime and wrapped your finger with a thin layer of gauze to help absorb any further bleeding. He then took a thick bandaid and finished up the job.

Your breathing finally slowed as you sniffled. Lando finally looked into your eyes, his own filled with sympathy for your pain. “See, all better.” He placed his lips delicately on your fingertip, giving it a soft kiss. 

You laughed sheepishly, only feeling the pulsating throbs of your wound. He took his thumbs and wiped away the rest of your tears, taking a moment to look into your glossy eyes. You both had paused, entranced in the eyes of the other. 

Lando then seemed to snap out of it, “You should head back to the kitchen. I’ll get everything cleaned up in here.” He cleared his throat nervously, and you hopped off the counter and left the room. You weren’t sure if it was the pain in your finger or if you had gotten burned earlier in the beach sun, but your cheeks felt flushed. 

~

Everyone sat at the dinner table chatting between one another, but you kept to yourself, only chiming in rarely. So many things played in the back of your mind. Lando caring for you at the beach, Charles’s comment, him standing against you as he rinsed off your finger, his delicate and generous touch as he bandaged up your wound. His voice echoed in your ear as he flooded you with reassurance, him calling you “love”. He had never adorned you with that nickname before. 

“Y/N, you alright? I didn’t fuck up dinner right?” Oscar asked, breaking your train of thought at the table. 

You forced a smile, “No, no, it’s delicious. Guess I’m just a little worn out from today.” 

“I don’t blame you,” Lewis sighed. “Long day of getting tired out with swimming, coming back to cook dinner only to cut your finger open.” He shook his head, “Thank god you had Lando here to take care of you. I don’t think any of us could’ve handled that much blood.” Lewis rambled on, but his words struck with you too. You felt like you were going crazy.

Had Lando always been this affectionate? Or was there just something about this beach trip that caused you to think and see him in a different light. Everyone went on chatting about various topics, many regarding the next phase of the racing season. 

As the night wore on and everyone retired to their rooms, you couldn't help but feel torn. Your body craved rest and the warmth of your bed, but your mind was consumed by thoughts of Lando. You had never questioned your feelings for him before, but now they seemed to swirl in a tangled mess. He was your best friend, and risking everything for romantic desires seemed foolish. Yet, your heart continued to ache for his touch and presence. You were torn between what you wanted and what you knew could potentially destroy your friendship. As you lay in bed, conflicted thoughts kept you awake, unsure of what the right choice was.

You decided to get out of your bed and travel downstairs to the kitchen. Your throat was dry and you longed for an ice cold water. It must have been 2am, so you weren’t expecting anyone to be awake as you were only clad in a revealing tank top and short shorts that clung to your skin. 

However, as you turned the corner into the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks. Lando, shirtless, dressed only in his boxers, stood around the kitchen island, drinking his own glass of water. 

“Oh-“ you muttered in surprise, as his tired eyes met yours. 

“Oh, hey.” His voice seemed languid, and you assumed he had not had a wink of sleep either. “What are you doing up?”

“I just um…couldn’t sleep I guess.” You shrugged as you poured yourself a glass, the cool liquid already sweating around the cup. 

As you awkwardly drank the water, out of the corner  you saw his eyes track up and down your body, further causing your mind to flip and turn.

“How’s the finger?” He asked, and you broke a smile. 

“Doing better. I don’t think I ever thanked you earlier.” You spoke softly, resting the side of your hip on the counter next to him. “Lewis was right, I think they might have fainted with how much blood there was.” 

Lando smiled, “Don’t mention it. I guess I just went into protector mode.” His words once again caused your heart to pulse. Your breath quickened, and as the seconds passed you were putting all of the pieces together. 

“Charles said earlier that you wouldn’t treat the other guys that way.” You blurted out, your mouth and heart seeming to operate separate from your brain. 

He furrowed his brows slightly in a smile, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean earlier with the beach towel. And the fruit. And healing me, calling me love, wiping my tears away. Why?” As you spoke the smile slowly dropped. You watched his toned, tanned, torso rise and fall with his breath. 

You looked into his eyes, there was a moment of connection, of reciprocation. Then he spoke in almost a whisper, like he was scared of anyone else hearing him, “I think you know why.”

“Lan…” Your voice cracked, and all at once everything seemed to make sense. Of course he had treated you this way. Of course you had let him. You wouldn’t want anything else. He was all you needed, all you craved.

He stepped closer, his warm hand finding its way to your hip and gently resting there. The intensity in his voice was palpable as he begged for your approval, “Please tell me this is okay,” his words coming out dry and desperate.

You looked up at him, your heart racing with anticipation. With a slow nod, you gave him the go-ahead, your lips already parting in yearning for his touch. When his lips finally met yours, it was like an electric shock, sending tingles down your spine and igniting a fire within. Your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, fingers tangling in his soft curls as your movements became synchronized with his. His hands traced random patterns on your waist, each touch sending shivers throughout your body as desire coursed through every inch of you.

Your lips trailed down to his neck, sucking and leaving love bites in between kisses. His breathing became heavy, “Easy now, I might not be able to control myself.” 

You smirked, meeting his eyes again as you traced his abs muscles, “I wouldn’t be one to stop you.” 

The kisses had become intense and passionate, his hands trailing all over your body. This time it was Lando that kissed along your neck and collarbone. His breath was hot against your skin, “Let me please you, I’m begging,” he muttered, and your legs became weak. 

“Not here…” You answered, and asked if you could go to his room.

Lando led you to his bedroom. He pressed you against the bed, peppering kisses along your collarbone and leaving love marks in his wake. Gasping for air, you slowly removed your tank top while he couldn't take his eyes off of you. His lips eagerly found their way to your breasts, causing waves of pleasure to shoot through your body. As he continued his journey down your chest and torso, Lando deftly slid off your pajama shorts, revealing more of your bare skin. "You are so beautiful," he murmured between kisses.

You were almost frustrated with how easily he found his way around in the bedroom, knowing he’s had plenty of attention from other girls in the past. His warm lips traced all the way down to your hips, and they arched as he took his time down your body. 

“I need you,” you whimpered, annoyed with how long he was taking to start pleasuring you. 

“Patience my love, I’m just getting started.” His voice vibrated off of your skin as he kissed your inner thighs. Then, as you were finally adjusting to his teasing, he licked all the way up your entrance, causing you to emit a soft moan. “Don’t get too loud now, Alex’s room is right next door.”

Lando's skilled tongue flicked and sucked against your sensitive core, causing you to squirm and moan uncontrollably. You tried to muffle your sounds with your hand, not wanting to wake anyone in the house. But the pleasure was too intense, each movement of Lando's mouth bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, he pulled away and kissed you deeply. Your taste mingled with his on his lips as you caught your breath. Your fingers tangled in his curly hair, but before you could fully relax, he thrust two fingers inside of you. The sudden intrusion sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you cry out loudly. Lando quickly covered your mouth with his hand, trying not to alert anyone to what was happening between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, “C’mon baby,” trailing kisses down to your collarbone. Your body trembled as he worked his fingers inside you, each movement hitting the perfect spot. His thumb found your clit and began circling, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

Your moans turned into incoherent pleas for more as he whispered dirty words in your ear. With one final thrust, he brought you over the edge, your entire body shaking with pleasure. “That’s it,” he held you close, gently kissing your forehead as you came down from your climax. You traced kisses along his jawline, struggling to catch your breath after such an intense release.

As the passion in the room died down, Lando kept planting soft kisses on your neck. Your bodies had cuddled together, tired from the restless night and the intensity between you. You couldn’t believe how the night had unfolded, as things had become a complete 180 from where the day started. 

“Y/N?” Lando asked softly. Your eyes met his in his bed, limbs intertwined. 

“Hmm?” You hummed tiredly. 

“I want you to know, you mean way more to me than what we just did. I’ve waited a long time to really tell you how I feel. You’re the most important person in my life, and I hope everyday I can show you just how much I love you.” He reassured you, bringing a soft smile to your face. 

Tears almost came to your eyes, “You love me?” 

He grinned, tucking the hair on your face behind your hear and caressing your cheek, “I think I always have.” 

You kissed the tip of his nose, “I love you too, Lan.”

~

After a few hours of much-needed rest, you and Lando slowly emerged from the comfort of your shared bed to start the day. You were in the clothes he had lent you - his boxers hanging loosely on your hips and a baggy t-shirt that was now adorned with small hickeys peeking out from beneath the fabric. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, tempting your senses.

As you tended to the breakfast dishes, Lando came up behind you at the stove and wrapped his strong arms around your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He wore a cozy sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, enveloping you in his warmth as you basked in his embrace. Turning to face him, you cupped his handsome face in your hands and brought your lips to his in a sweet morning kiss.

“Oh shit.” A voice from the other side of the room exclaimed. Startled, you looked to see Lewis and Charles standing across the kitchen island, mouths almost to the floor. 

“Fuck, I owe Oscar twenty bucks.” Charles sighed. 

You and Lando just looked at each other with a confused expression.

[solbaby7]

Tough Lover

[part 2 to A Guy Who Takes His Time]

pairing: azriel x burlesque!reader

warnings: not edited, swearing, sexual themes, burlesque themes, can you tell i’m a fiend for a fictional character?

summary: When the guy who takes his time doesn’t want to take things so slow after your latest show.

—

It had been weeks since you’d last seen the handsome inky haired Illyrian with wings so large and shadows so curious, you’d been left reeling by the end of the night. He was polite; a perfect gentleman who’d opened your door and pulled back your chair and ordered you a water to accompany the drink you’d asked for.

Azriel was attentive, that hazel gaze like lasers as he watched you, the way your mouth moved to form words, the way your nose crunched when the liquor was especially strong, the wince when the healing blisters on your feet rubbed against leather. “How long have you been doing that?”

You’re hesitant when you answer, fingers curled around your glass as the lantern crackled gently beside them. The booth was rather comfortable, pushed towards the back of the restaurant for privacy and the large window of walls was quite comforting; the twinkle of stars above shining in the night. “A while. Almost ten years.”

His brows raise slightly, his quirk in to the side a little and the light on tanned skin makes him look godly. It’s unmistakable the muscle beneath a shirt so deep a blue it was nearly black. “And you still enjoy it?”

“I love it.” The smile that grows takes his breath away, the makeup you’d been wearing for the show earlier was mostly wiped off, the bright red lipstick nothing more than a stain and it’s debilitating how badly he wants to lean over the table and kiss you—but that would be too forward and Azriel had promised to take his time. “There’s very little I love more than the feeling I get when I’m on that stage and everyone’s eyes are on me.”

You blush a little at the confession, head dipping down as you nervously sip at your drink—something fruity and strong. One more and the nerves would subside, two and you’d be ruling the conversation just as you did back at the bar. “Is that right?” The breathy tone of his voice isn’t not nearly as tame as he’d been before, leather gloves straining under the clench of his fingers. “Tell me, do you often go out with captivated customers after work?”

“Captivated, are you?” You feed into his flattery, leaning back to playfully show off the classy dip of your neckline, the simple black dress you’d changed into nearly sweeping the spymaster clean off his feet when you’d emerged from the changing rooms. All soft skin and sweet smelling body oils and perfume that sent shimmers across your collarbones. “I find that hard to believe when you’d done your best job keeping your eyes off me earlier.” There’s a pout on blushed lips and you don’t miss the way Azriel’s eyes dart down to them. “You made me come get you myself.”

“Everyone else’s attention wasn’t enough?” A chuckle pulls from his chest, form leaning into his chair and the large wings behind him seem to relax with the movement, even if they do remain high behind him to stay off the floor. You can’t help the way you squirm, teeth biting at the fat of your bottom lip as you struggle for an answer that doesn’t make you seem desperate or too needy. “Answer me.”

It’s a gentle command but you’re surprised by how quickly your body complies, mouth moving before you can stop it. “You were the only one not looking,” You don’t hear the bustle of customers around you, the clicking every so often from the dishwashers in the back and the occasional shout for the busboy; you’re too engrossed in the man before you. “It was like you were just begging for me prove that I was worth whatever generous amount your High Lord forked over for the most expensive booth in the bar.” Azriel can’t be sure if you’ve even noticed how your tone changed, lids going lazy as you relived the experience. “You were the first challenge I’d had in a long while.”

“So, only challenges get to take you to dinner?”

The straw of your drink is caught between your teeth, eyes flirty under thick lashes and the feminine giggle you offer him sends a feeling shooting deep in Azriel’s gut. “No,” The world drawls on your tongue, a manicured hand tracing the rim of your glass. “Just you.”

Azriel seems pleased by the admission, shoulders shifting slightly and his tongue slowly traces along his bottom lip. “I see, I’m just special.”

The tension is undeniable, the thrum of excitement buzzes beneath your skin and the way he’s staring at you was a greater high than a full show dedicated to you alone. “Special enough to let you be the first customer to touch me—let alone keep a souvenir.”

An easy smile formed on his handsome features, strong cheekbones and full lips; slinking shadows kissing at his form, curling around his neck and arms. “You shouldn’t tell me things like that,” Your breath hitches, eyes stuck on his own as the cool caress of his shadows trail up your heel, around your ankle, trailing up, up, up, until they were skimming over the stitching at the hem of your dress. “My brothers say I have a bit of a possessive streak.”

You try not to think about it too hard, throat bobbing when you swallow. “Those were your brothers? That’s one hell of a gene pool.”

“We aren’t related by blood,” He confesses softly, the love for the two showing through whether he’d planned for it to or not. “They’re my chosen family.”

A little noise of understanding pulls from you, eyes fluttering shut a moment and briefly you’re reminding of your own—of Tess and Sean and all the other members of the bar that you’d known for what felt like forever. “The woman who let you wait for me—Tess. She’s that for me; she’s probably the only person who really knows me.”

Azriel doesn’t answer right away, only nods a little as if he too felt the same about his brothers. The waitstaff bristles by, setting down steaming hot plates of rice and potatoes and steamed vegetables. He watches a giddy smile form on your face, the sincere thanks you offer and you’re reaching for your fork when words finally escape him. “I think I’d like to be one of those people too.”

—

That had been two weeks ago and you’d hadn’t seen him since.

You hated how much it affected you.

How every time the bar’s doors chimed, your head whipped over to see if it was him—it never was.

“Curtains!” Tess calls, fingers snapping at Harrison; the sweet guy who'd been filling in for the previous DJ. He'd taken suprisingly well to Tess' mood swings, no longer flinching when her voice all but shrieked in his ear to get back to the booth. Sean has his fingers through your hair, a mascara wand balanced between his lips as another was muttering for you to suck in while she fastened the clasps in your corset. Heels click against the floor but a cool hand is curling around your arm before you can take your mark and the tone Tess takes with you makes your feet tremble in custom shoes. "I don't know what happened between you and," She pauses when your gaze hardens. "I don't know what happened but it has been affecting you out there. Do I need to remind you who owns that stage?"

Such simple words and yet the care behind them pours much needed strength back into your body. The confidence Tess always admired shone through for the first time in two weeks; head high and shoulders back, your posture the picture of perfection when answering with a firm, "No."

"Then go to your mark and do what you do best."

The usual mantra doesn't repeat on a loop in your brain like it usually did. There was no need to worry about presence or engagement or confidence as all of the necessary attributes had branded themselves in your bloodstream, coursing through your veins and fueling the steadily beating heart throbbing against your ribcage. You can barely breathe, the laces cinched tightly at your waist, the cool caress of a necklace being clasped around your neck.

Such doting and still you didn’t feel fulfilled.

Leather and diamonds.

A pouty red lip.

The band and their first few counts. Lights beam and the bustle of customers slows to sipping on strong drinks in tall bar stools or relaxed comfortably in the cheaper booths with bottles chilling on ice.

Sad or not, you never got tired of the looks—the attention and while most nights the glint of adoration for the sweet, sultry words sung under dim lights.

I want a tough lover

yeah, yeah, yeah

A twinkling chime, the thudding bass of the drum; the steady smirk that creeped its way on your mouth when you felt the cool caress of shadows twisting at your ankle.

You ignore it.

It takes every cell in your body to fight the urge to surveil the room for the owner of those shadows but somehow you manage.

A tough lover, yeah

When he kisses me, I get that thrill

Lights trail your every move, illuminating the diamonds clasped to your neck with a taunting glint that screamed “look but don’t touch”.

Two whole weeks you’d spent on this stage feeling like a ghost of yourself and all at once the life floods back in. The allure of such confidence hypnotizes the crowd and you catch even a few of the waitstaff pausing in place, trays of drinks balanced in the palm of their hands as they watched you flounce around stage.

It’s addicting—the attention. Fawning females and drooling males gobbling up smooth skin and pushed up breasts. Devouring the sinful leather bottoms that showed more than they covered and with such obvious sex appeal, you tone down the dancing. No obnoxious moves or overly erotic movements; just grace and confidence.

You can feel Azriel’s eyes burning a hole into your skin when you prance down the stairs, hair unbound and hips swishing from side to side as you strut down a path of your own making. The gathered crowd parts to make room for you, chairs turning and necks craning for a better look—a second whiff at the expensive perfumes and enticing oils that lingered in your wake.

Well, the seven sisters got nothing on him

I’m talkin’ ‘bout a lover who’s fast as the wind

The males in attendance are obvious in their desire, backs pressed firmly to their chairs with legs spread wide. Hands brace at their thighs, aware of your interactiveness with the crowd and present themselves as the perfect playthings—completely at your disposal.

You take one step, sights set on a target—a regular you’d seen time and time again. Always comfortable in a booth but casual, watching with interest but never more than the respectable amount.

A safe pick.

But before your outstretched hand can touch his shoulder, cool darkness wraps around your wrist and swiftly twirls you into the arms of another. He smells just as you remembered at dinner, tucked in that cozy corner with a view. It takes genuine effort not to pay him any mind; to treat him as you would any other customer but the hand that rests on your hip is claiming—burning the brand of him on your flesh for all to see.

Everyone will talk about how he got me fixed

It ain’t voodoo it’s just the twist

Azriel doesn’t move a muscle, expression stony and irises burning when staring down at you through the dimmed lights. You use him like a toy; hands bracing on strong shoulders when you dance around him, throwing a leg over his hip as you continued the routine without a hitch.

The others watch in awe at the fluid grace of multi-tasking. Teasing just enough and stepping away before you’d gotten too caught up in the desire of it all to forget about his sudden disappearance. He never lets you stray too far, quick to reign you back in when you playfully try to grab after another.

No one dares to come any closer and it takes more than a few reassuring glances to the male waitstaff lingering before they continue serving as normal. Azriel keeps you there until the whole song is finished and when you’re walking back on stage for the next set, you’re acutely aware of his presence behind you.

Sean watches you walk past with raised brows, a lace number held limp in his grasp as his eyes shamelessly scan at Azriel’s physique in approval. The girls pause their flouncing, manicured nails curled around mascara wands and smoothing down wrinkles in their outfits. Sparing a side eye and knowing smirks when the shadowsinger follows close behind you to your private dressing room—a perk of being the star of the show.

You’ve just passed the door, sparing a look over your shoulder when Tess shoots out an arm to tug Azriel away. Words are exchanged, things too quiet for you to catch but there’s no question it’s about you judging on the way they keep stealing glimpses.

Patience had never been your strong suit and you’re grateful when Tess wraps it up and saunters off, the sound of her heels fading away into the steady thrum of music. It goes quiet when he closes the door, the lock turning with a click. For a moment, all he does is look at you. Golden eyes raking down the length of you and up again before speaking. “Your friends are very protective of you.”

“I don’t have friends—they’re my family.” It has a bite to them, your words and you try not to feel guilty about it while easing the earrings from your lobes. “It’s instinct to protect things that are yours.” The jewelry is tossed haphazardly onto the vanity and if you were less secure in the way you looked, you would’ve been more embarrassed by your attire compared to his own. “Why are you here?”

Why are you here now?

You can’t bring yourself to fully ask, too afraid of the answer. Not afraid enough to avoid his eyes though, brows furrowed in contempt and under any other situation Azriel would’ve allowed himself to get flustered by the scowl on your painted lips. “I wanted to see you again.”

“Then go back to the front door and buy a ticket. My next show is in an hour and a half.”

“I was gone for—work,” The slightest hint of a grimace cracks at that stony exterior and you hate how it draws you in. “It was unexpected and lasted longer than originally anticipated. There’s was enough time for me to—“ Azriel sighs, seemingly composing himself and your fingers twitch with the urge to cup his cheeks and kiss him square on the mouth to soothe those lines and ease the stress. “You must understand that I wasn’t intentionally avoiding you. Our date…I—“

You’re quick to cut him off, relief flooding every nerve and you dare to take a step closer. “I had a wonderful time.”

“Me too.” He’s touching before you can, his impulses less conflicted than your own but you relish in the warmth of his hand against your cheek, thumb gazing the bottom plush of your mouth. Shadows swarm around your feet, up your legs, ghosting over the swell of your ass before continuing their gentle exploration like a million barely there kisses. “I came back to tell you I’m taking you out when you’re free next.”

“That didn’t sound like you asking.”

Azriel lets out a soft laugh, shadows nudging you in closer until the grip around your waist is just as branding here as it was before the crowd. “Good,” Heat swells in your belly and the snarkiness fades way when he’s looking at you like that. “—because that was me telling you.”

Your breath hitches. He’s so close, the smell of his cologne all consuming coupled with the achingly gentle touches he offers. You can’t help it, the way your eyes glance down at his lips and just when you think you’ve gotten away with it he’s throwing the bait. Inching closer and leaving room incase he’s misread the whole situation. “And what if I decide I want one of those other males instead?” It’s nothing higher than a whisper, barely audible when your body reacted so intensely to him and the hand on your waist pulling you in until you could feel the defined ridges of his body beneath his clothes.

It meant nothing. Just a taunt. Harmless intrigue.

You don’t even expect an answer, not a real one. You weren’t entitled to anything, it had only been a single date—even if it had lasted nearly five hours. “You could,” He traces the length of your neck, across your collarbone, down the delicate curve of your shoulder. “But, you won’t.

“How bold of you to assume so.” You can’t resist any longer, arms raising to curl around his shoulders, nails lazily scratching at the inky hair at the nape of his neck. Azriel leans into the touch, doing little to hide the affects you hands on his body had on him. “What happened to the gentleman who took his time?”

His mouth hovers over your own, nose tickling the apple of your cheeks when he roughly answers. “There’s no place for him tonight. Not after you’ve put on such a show—begging for a tough lover were you, vixen?” Breath hitches, thighs clenching in anticipation when he lifts you up and props you atop the vanity with such ease. Azriel’s voice drops, a low gravely baritone that lingered long after he stopped speaking. “Wish granted.”

Azriel’s kiss is just as claiming as his hands, setting the tone and making his intentions known. ‘Mine’ every drag of his lips against yours screamed, scarred hands finding purchase in your hair to draw you closer—swallowing every moan and knee-buckling whimper. There was no telling how much time had passed with your lips connected; exploring and staking their claim on ever inch of newfound territory until the sharp knocks sounded against the door. A shrill reminder of your upcoming set and the need for a change of costume, hair and makeup.

With a groan you pull away, lips swollen and pupils blown but you find when you look up, Azriel looks similarly disheveled. “I have to go.”

“When are you off?”

“About an hour.”

He nods like it’s final, unable to keep his hands off when you take reluctant steps back towards the door. “I’ll wait for you.” His lips are back on yours, soft and plush; tasting so much like home and safety you nearly miss it. “However long it takes.”

[wh0re43van]

Jealousy- (Dom!Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Summary: You and Peter are having a nice day at the river when you run into an old ‘friend’.

(This was a request, but I lost it. I believe the request said something like: “Dom Peter Maximoff. That’s the request”)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: smut, throat fucking, slight choking, gagging

A/N- y’all I’ve been having such bad writers block and I just started college again so please bare with me 😭🙏🏻

My body buzzes with warmth as the mid summer sun beams down on me. In the distance there’s a group of young teens giggling and splashing as they take turns jumping off the rope swing into the river, but their joys are muffled by the newest Pink Floyd cassette playing in Peters boombox.

Suddenly, I feel a cold blob of something plop onto my stomach. I gasp, quickly sitting up in confusion. My questions are answered when I see a chuckling Peter standing above me with two overfilled ice cream cones in his hands.

“Oops,” he grins as he sits down on his towel beside me, placing the cone in my hand. Peters solution to the mess on my stomach is to lean down and lick it off. I laugh, attempting to shove him away from me.

“Ew Peter,” I chuckle as he licks up the last of the ice cream.

“Tastes like tanning oil,” he smiles while licking his lips. I just shake my head, looking at my dork of a boyfriend with pure adoration.

The soft breeze blows Peters silver locks around on his head as he lap at his sweet treat. The melted desert drips from his hand onto his toned chest and blue swim trunks.

“Babe, you’re a mess,” I laugh as I try to eat mine as neatly as possible, but the frozen delicacy is no match for the summer heat.

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to clean off in the river,” he smirks as he finishes the last of his cone. With a fwip he’s in the water.

“Hey!” I holler after him with a giggle. I set the ice cream down before standing to my feet.

“Come on y/n you’re so Slow!” Peter shouts over the sound of the rushing water. I wipe my sticky hands on his towel then grab a scrunchie to pull my hair back before our swim.

“Y/n?” I hear an unfamiliar voice behind me. I turn with a puzzled look, my hands behind my head as I braid my hair back. I’m shocked by who I see.

“Oh my god! Elijah? I don’t believe it,” I say in disbelief, staring at the boy I haven’t seen since freshman year. He smiles, seemingly pleased that I take the time glance over his now muscular body.

“I look pretty good, huh?” He laughs confidently. His red swim trunks don’t leave much to the imagination as he does a spin, allowing me to see how mature he’s become. He flexes his dark umber toned arms as he holds his head up with pride. The sun shines down on his hair, each tight raven curl lays neatly beside the other as they hang down in his face.

I gulp, feeling a bit guilty for staring.

“Uh, yeah! You look great, dude,” I laugh awkwardly as I look around for Peter.

“You here by yourself? That’s awfully dang-“ Elijah begins but is quickly cut off by Peter who seems to appear out of thin air.

“Nope,” my boyfriend says with a smug grin as he flings his arm around me, much tighter than normal. If I didn’t know better, id think Peter was jealous. I’ve been dating Peter for almost six years and I’ve never seen him so much as look twice at any guy who flirts with me.

‘Let ‘em,’ he always scoffs. ‘I’m the one who gets to undress you,’ Peter knows that no other guy has a chance with me; he actually finds it quite amusing to see guys get horribly rejected by me. Peter is a very confident guy, but right now his jaw is tensed out of annoyance and he’s gripping onto me as if Elijah might tear me from his grasp at any moment.

“Peter, long time no see,” Elija smiles at an unamused Peter.

“Yeah, last time I saw you, you were trying to sabotage my relationship with Y/n,” Peter says flatly, shrugging his shoulders with his lips pulled into a sarcastic grin.

‘Awkward,’ I cringe internally as I remember the last week we spent with Elijah before he moved away.

The two boys and I were best friends since 6th grade, so when Peter decided he wanted to confess his feeling for me, he spoke about it to Elijah- the best friend who he wasn’t in love with. Elijah came to me the next day, telling me that Peter was going to ask me out as a prank, so I should say no- which made me extremely angry since I’d had a crush on Peter for years.

Long story short: Peter was not going to ask me out as a joke, he was completely serious and Elijah almost ruined his chance with me because he wanted me to himself.

“Oh come on peter, that was like four years ago,” Elijah scoffs as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s right. That was teenage drama that I’ve long forgotten about, however this seems to still be a sore spot for Peter who is now scowling at our old friend.

“whatever man just get lost,” Peters voice drops, his tight grip on my shoulder never faltering as his eyes shoot bullets into Elijah. This is a side to peter that I rarely see, and I cant help but notice the butterflies that are starting to flutter in my stomach.

“Woah quicksilver takes an awfully long time to get over his hurt feelings,” Elijah laughs as he keeps his confident stature. Peters eyes narrow and his face becomes flushed with anger. I open my mouth in attempt so deescalate the situation, but I don’t have time. “y/n is over it,” he smirks, winking in my direction. Before I can defend myself, the wind is knocked out of me.

With a fwip, we’re in the shower cabin. The hot damp air in invades my lungs as I try to catch my breath.

“Peter!” I groan as I pull myself out of his arms. He knows I hate when he does that. “What the hell has gotten into you? I’ve never seen you so-“ my complaint is cut short as Peter smashes his lips to mine. His hand grips the back of my head, keeping me as close to him as possible. His other hand trails up my back.

“You’re mine,” Peter growls against my lips as he backs me against the wall. My stomach drops at the possessive tone coming from my boyfriend. I wrap my arms around his neck and manage to pull my lips away from him enough to catch my breath.

“Of course Peter,” I pant as he trails wet kisses up my jawline and down my neck. I sigh in content, leaning my head to give him more access. I want to pull away, but I cant bring myself to do it.

“All of you,” he says in a low tone, his dominant eyes locking with mine as he removes my bikini top in one quick flash. I gasp as his mouth instantly goes to work on my breast.

“Peter not here! What if someone comes in? Or hears us!” I resist verbally but do very little to actually push him off. Instead, I entangle my fingers into his silver hair.

“Good,” is all he mumbles against my breast as he leaves dark hickies on the soft skin. I know this is wrong. I know we shouldn’t be doing this in such a public place, but I’ve never seen this look in Peters eyes before. It’s not often that he takes charge, and the way that he has me pinned against the wall leaves my knees weak in anticipation.

Peters mouth switches to my other breast as he uses his knees to spread my legs. His skilled fingers pull my bikini bottoms to the side and he immediately dips into my heat, moaning at how wet I already am.

“That bastard wishes he could see you like this,” Peter mumbles under his breath as he watches his finger slide in and out of me. I let out a small whimper, biting my lip to stifle the sound as much as possible.

With his other hand, he grabs my face squeezing my cheeks so hard that my lips pucker, before he leans down almost touching his nose to mine.

“I want to hear every sound that comes out of this pretty little mouth,” he growls lowly as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Do you understand?” He pants as he stares in my eyes with an animalistic glint, his fingers still pumping into me.

“Y-yes,” I gulp, letting out a loud moan when his thumb brushes my clit.

“Atta Girl,” Peter smirks before he moves his hands to my thighs, picking me up so I can straddle him with my back against the wall.

After I wrap my legs around his waist, he begins to grind against my bare core. The friction sends a surge of pleasure through my body.

“What Are You waiting for?” I ask breathlessly as Peters eyes scan my body.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands lowly as his hand gently grips my throat. My heart flutters at my boyfriends unusual- and extremely hot- dominant demeaner

“I-I want you to fuck me,” I stutter as I stare down his arm into his dark eyes. The corner of his lips turn up into a smirk before he drops his swimming shorts.

Peter removes his hand from my throat to bring his fingers up to his mouth, wetting them before grazing over my heat. I tense at the contact, letting out a small whimper. My heart pounds in anticipation as he lines himself up with my entrance.

“I want him to hear,” peter growls before he buries himself inside of me in one swift thrust. I cry out at the sudden feeling of him filling me up. Peter moves hips slowly, allowing me to adjust. Soon enough, his hips are rocking against me in a steady motion as his fingers dig into the soft skin on my hips.

“fuck peter,” I whimper out as he grazes my gspot with every stroke. Everything about this situation- the risk of getting caught, peter completely dominating me, the way hes hitting right where I need him- has me more aroused than I’ve ever been.

“Louder,” Peter grunts, staring at me with stern eyes as he brings a thumb to my clit.

“Fuck Peter!” I let out a pathetic shriek as he begins to vibrate his thumb against my sensitive bud. I throw my head back, squeezing my eyes, allowing myself to get lost in the immense pleasure flooding through my body.

“Much better,” peter chuckles as he speeds up his hips. Peter looks down at me, biting his bottom lip so hard that I fear he may draw blood. Small grunts and low groans mange to slip out as he pounds into me.

“Im so close baby please don’t stop,” I whine as my fingers grip his hair so tight that my knuckles turn white.

“Say my fucking name and cum for me,” he growls into my ear before biting on my neck, sucking hickies onto the sensitive skin. I cant think well enough to form a response as I clench around him, feeling pure euphoria flood my body.

“Fuck! Yes! Peter oh my god!” I moan loudly, I don’t even know what I’m saying. At this point, Peter has literally fucked me senseless. I’m putty in his hands for him to use in any way he’d like. I lay against the wall, Peter now solely holding me up as I attempt to collect myself. I open my eyes as he slowly pulls out of me, chuckling as he sets me down onto my shaky legs.

“Peter… I-“ I just stare at my boyfriend as my release starts to drip down my thigh. Peter smirks as he pumps his still rock hard cock, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Get down and open up baby,” he says gently with a kiss to my forehead as he pushes on my shoulder. I obey, meeting his gaze as I get to my knees. I know that I’m drunk off lust because any other time I would not have my bare ass so close to the floor of a public showering cabin but with the way Peter’s looking at me, the thought of resisting doesn’t even cross my mind.

With my chest still heaving a bit, I take his length into my hand, stroking it slowly before kitten licking the tip. Peter throws his head back with a grunt as I slide him into my mouth, my tongue tracing up the bottom of him. I wrap my arms around his thighs as I begin to move my head back and forth.  Peter smirks, gently pushing some loose strands of hair out of my face.

“That’s it baby. You’re doing so good,” he hums as he begins to move his hips in rhythm to my face. Peter looks angelic as the sheen of sweat across his forehead glistens in the single beam of sun cutting through dimness of the cement room. His toned chest heaves as his dark eyes watch his cock violate my mouth, slipping deeper into my throat with each thrust. Tears begin to form in eyes as he slams into my throat, continuously slipping past my gag reflex

“I’m the only one who gets to use you like this,” Peter growls as his hands grip onto the back of my head. I do my best to nod and mumble a ‘mhm’ as drool begins to escape the corners of my mouth, dripping down my chest as he fucks my throat. My core still aches for him. I’ve had my release already, but the way that he’s speaking to me and using me is something far out of the ordinary for him- I cant get enough. I manage to pull away to gasp for breath as I begin to get light headed.

“Please,” I pant out hoarsely, tears and spit streaming down my face as I desperately kiss all over peters length between breaths. “Cum on my face baby please. Im yours. Please peter,” I beg breathlessly as I massage his balls. Peter lets out a whimper, seemingly more than excited to hear my pleads. His hand grabs onto his length, stroking himself closer to his climax. I sit back on my heels, opening my mouth, holding my tits- now covered in my own saliva from his ruthless face fucking- up, wanting nothing more than for him to cover me in his cum.

“God you’re so fucking sexy,” Peter groans as his hand moves in a blur along his length. He throws his head back and lets out a stream of profanities and groans as he shoots his hot seed allover my face and tits. “Jesus Christ,”’ Peter groans when he looks down to see the mess he’s made of me. I giggle, leaning forward, licking up his cock one last time to make sure I’ve gotten every drop. Peter watches me in awe as he attempts to catch his breath, grabbing my shoulders and gently pulling me to my feet.

“Do you feel better now?” I tease as I scoop some off his cum off my breast, bringing the salty liquid to my mouth. Peter groans at the sight.

“Much better,” he laughs as he reaches for his swim trunks. “You wouldn’t mind walking past Elijah like that would you?” he laughs as he grabs a paper towel by the sink.

“What? Half naked and covered in your cum?” I raise an eyebrow at him as he picks up my bikini top.

“Well, maybe put this on first,” he smirks, handing me the thin material. I laugh as he wipes me off so I can get dressed. The mood is back to its usual easy-going vibe and my calm and collected Peter has returned- but I can assure you that we will be revisiting this side of him quite often

-

-

Tags: @pretzel-bunnie @slvt4jamesmarch

[amorpaints]

Love at First Paint: A Beginner's Guide to Painting

"Almond Blossom" by Vincent van Gogh (1853 - 1890), Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, February 1890

Have you ever dreamed of being like Picasso or Vincent Van Gogh? If you do, you are looking at the wrong blog because I am far from them. But hey there! I'm Eden Amor, a freshman student and a self-taught artist who just loves to paint.

Art has been my passion since I was a kid, and as I grew older, I fell even more in love with it and started trying out different mediums and styles. But there's just something about painting that really excites me! I started with graphite, then moved on to colored pencils, and even dabbled in charcoal (although I never got around to using those charcoal pencils I ordered online). Finally, I found my true love in watercolors, and I've been obsessed with working with wet mediums ever since!

If you are a beginner in painting (like me, have been a skill of a beginner for years), you can enjoy my blog and get some tips that I learned from my starting journey. But if you are just interested in painting or in art generally, you can still read this blog.

Just a disclaimer: I am no expert and just a self-taught artist. Some things might work for me and not for you, and vice versa, so take this blog with a grain of salt.

LEARN ABOUT PAINTING

Since I am a self-taught artist myself, I never applied for workshops in drawing or painting. But most of my art knowledge is from YouTube tutorials, shorts, and IG reels (I have no TikTok, I don’t know why). I suggest learning about the basics before painting whatever you want because you’ll get disappointed after the result or wondering why everything is not working the way you wanted. 

But before anything else, find the medium that you want. Mediums like acrylic, oil, gouache, and watercolor. There might be more but these four are some of the common wet mediums. One thing to address about these mediums is that they all have different properties and the techniques you’ll approach, the materials you’ll use, and the finish or outcome of the painting will depend on the medium. 

MEDIUMS

Watercolor

My recommendation for anyone wanting to start painting with no experience is to use watercolors. The only things you need are watercolor paint and water. Unlike acrylic paint, which, although water-based, can get pretty messy and dries quickly, giving you little time to blend and touch up unless you use an acrylic medium called Retarder, which is a medium that you mix with the paint to slow its drying time, but will cost you more. So, as simple as watercolor can be, it's a great starting point for a beginner in painting. 

However, watercolor painting can be tricky when it comes to water manipulation. The amount of water your brush holds affects in creating an even layer of paint. The drying time takes hours, especially if you are working in layers, if you paint the still-damp surface too early, you will ruin everything and you cannot cover it up since watercolor is transparent. That is why watercolor painting is done light-to-dark because dark colors cannot be covered by light colors. So planning ahead of time is suggested and should not paint with watercolor impulsively.

Acrylic

If you want to take the next level or just explore other mediums, acrylic painting is great for high coverage and textures. What watercolor doesn’t have but acrylic has is the ability to cover mistakes. In acrylic painting, you can paint on top of a painting, which is great especially if you change your mind or decide to start all over again, as long you coat more than one layer of white paint then you have a blank canvas again.

However acrylic paint, as said earlier, dries quickly which can be a disadvantage if you are a slow painter (like me) and especially if you are making a seamless gradient, which is very difficult to achieve and not as easy as you think. Since acrylic is water-based, cleaning is very easy with just water as long as the paint is still wet. Hardened paints can be peeled off easily but only on smooth surfaces, but if you got it on something like fabric, it will be forever on it.

Gouache

I describe gouache (pronounced as ‘goo-aash’) as a combination of watercolor and acrylic. Because like watercolor, gouache is water-activated paint, which means that dried paints can be revived and used the paint again when wet. And just like acrylic, gouache has high coverage and a thick consistency which is great for texture. But unlike acrylic, which has a glossy finish, the gouache creates a matte finish once the paint is dry and it also dries fast giving you no more time for creating flawless gradients.

I use gouache for mini projects, or creating art trends I saw online, but I don’t recommend it for painting a big major project since it can be smudge once wet, and as of now, I don’t know if there’s an appropriate varnish for gouache so if you have any idea please let me know in the comment section.

Oil

The most expensive of the four mentioned paint mediums is oil paint. However, oil paint creates the most realistic paintings. Despite its high cost, what makes me love oil paint is how smoothly the paintbrush glides, like butter. Blending oil paint is very easy, and you can create flawless gradients between colors. Oil paint has a very slow drying time. For small projects, such as those the size of half a sheet of bond paper, it can take days to weeks to fully dry and be ready for varnish. This slow drying time can be both an advantage and a disadvantage, depending on the complexity of your painting. It allows you to fix mistakes or make adjustments even the next day. Additionally, a small amount of oil paint goes a long way.

Oil painting can be hazardous because it involves flammable oil-based paints, as well as mediums like thinner and linseed oil. While water is used to dilute watercolor, gouache, and acrylic paints, oil paint requires the use of thinner. It's important to avoid washing oil paintbrushes with water, as it can damage the brushes and won't effectively remove the paint. Additionally, it's crucial to store oil paints, thinner, and linseed oil away from sources of heat and fire.

Since I am only new to oil painting, I cannot give much in-depth information about it and if you do please I beg for some advice and tips in oil painting.

Materials in Painting

Painting can be an expensive hobby given that the materials used (especially the branded ones) are not really as cheap as a pencil and a piece of paper. But aside from being a painter, I am also a cheapskate. 

I will never buy an art supply that is as expensive as my kidney, UNLESS if it is worth it or I can make money out of it. I don’t really have all the money to buy all the art supplies I want, I am still dependent on my parents and have no job yet (currently at college, 18, and an irresponsible young adult). 

That is why I chose to buy art supplies online instead from the art stores near my place. And I think as a beginner, expensive materials are unnecessary because for me an artist should be able to make a masterpiece with his/her skill and not the tools. But that doesn’t mean the quality of materials will not make a difference. So if you are the same as me, you can use my tips.

Paint

The paints I use are not of great quality, but they are good enough. I honestly thought that some of the paints I bought were much better than the pricier ones. 

In watercolor, there are two common types: in the tubes and in the pans. The tubed paints have a consistency of acrylic, unlike the ones in the pans, which are hardened. What I have is the Superior Watercolor in pans set. I bought them online for less than $10, and it is a set of 18 colors with a brush pen and sponge included. The quality is great, it is not chalky, and it doesn’t smudge once dried. I spent my money wisely, and I do not regret buying it even though $10 is already a lot to me.

When it comes to acrylic and oil paint, I suggest buying the primary colors (ultramarine blue, crimson red, cadmium yellow), titanium white, black, and magenta only. I highly suggest buying a large amount of white because you’ll need it most of the time. Buying a set is very costly, but with these 6 colors, you can create any color, save money, and at the same time improve color-matching skills, which is an essential skill as a painter. If you wonder why I added magenta, it is because the combination of red and white is not bright enough to be pink or it is just different from the color magenta, and I think having magenta in the collection is a good addition. I used the Mont Marte brand in acrylic and Marie’s for oil paint.

Paintbrush

There are different shapes of brushes: flat, round, filbert, and detail are the commonly used shapes, and it depends on the medium you are using. For watercolor, a round brush is recommended, and a flat brush is recommended for thick paints like acrylic and oil paint. A filbert brush is also a flat brush, but the trim is round, and it is good for painting clouds. A detailed brush is used for small details like painting dots and thin lines or for small paintings. There are more shapes of brushes out there, but having a variety of brushes can be overwhelming. Get only the brushes you need and have them in sizes small, medium, and large. The size of the brush will depend on how small or big your painting is. Using the appropriate shape and size of the brush will lessen your expenses and you’ll learn to depend more on your skills than the tools.

There are cheap but not too cheap brushes available online. They are not branded, but the quality is good enough (like the ones I use), and the bristles don’t come off easily.

Paper

We can paint on anything, but nothing beats paper. However, the paper used in painting is not just an ordinary paper. The thickness of the paper used in painting, particularly watercolor paper, is important so that the paint would not easily destroy it.

Watercolor paper is usually combined with cotton, making it more durable than regular paper or cardstock. The percentage of cotton in the paper varies as the price varies. It is recommended to use 200 gsm paper, which is what I have because it is affordable and good enough to hold a few layers of paint.

However, I highly recommend using 300 gsm paper because the 200 gsm papers I use still curl up or bend and get wavy, which is a hassle when painting. The higher quality, 300gsm paper or paper containing 100% cotton is easier to work with, as I have observed online, even without taping the paper down, it doesn’t curl up. But of course, high-quality paper costs more, so 200 gsm paper is good enough.

If you are wondering why I called the paper used in painting "watercolor paper," it's because you can also use watercolor paper for acrylic, gouache, and oil painting.

There are two types of watercolor paper:

Cold Press - Cold-pressed watercolor paper has a rough texture, which is great for watercolor painting because it gives more depth to the flat painting (water is water, they can't have shapes and textures like acrylic).

Hot Press - The hot-pressed one is recommended for thick paints because it has a fine, smooth surface, which is great for blending smoothly.

Aside from paper, you can also use canvas paper, stretched canvas, or a canvas panel for thick paints. However, since you are only starting in painting, paper is recommended for practice and is much cheaper than the canvas mentioned above.

OTHERS

Masking Tape

Why masking tape? It is used for tapping down the edges of the watercolor paper so it stays put and flat on the surface which makes painting much easier, and also it creates a clean border. You may see other artists use washi tape because they are less sticky and won't damage the paper once it is peeled off, but I think using washi tape costs more, instead, stick first the ordinary masking tape onto your clothes until it becomes less sticky, and then you are good to go.

Mixing Palette

Usually in watercolor paint sets, the lid of the container serves as the palette. However, when using thick paints like acrylic or oil, a better alternative to a traditional paint palette is a picture frame. Mixing paint on a glass surface is convenient for two reasons: (a) it is smooth and does not absorb the paint, and (b) it is easy to clean. Dried acrylic or oil paint can be easily peeled off the glass or scraped with a blade or glass scraper, leaving a fresh and clean surface for mixing. Additionally, the wood or plastic frame around the glass provides protection against breakage and sharp edges.

Towel/Tissue

A used towel or tissue is not only used for cleaning; it is also mainly used for soaking up the excess water on a brush or for wiping off the excess paint. It is very handy, so you should always have it by your side while painting.

Jar

A brush washer is a must-have for painting. This is where you wash off the paint with water from the brush. You can use an old cup or jar as a brush washer instead of buying the fancy ones which is unnecessary. I prefer using a jar because it is heavier than a regular plastic cup, which prevents it from tumbling or spilling. 

Here's a tip I learned from YouTube: use two brush washers. When you wash your brush once in a single container, the water gets muddy. This can make your fresh paint muddy when you switch colors. To prevent this, wash your brush twice: once in the first container and then again in the second container. This ensures that the water picked up by your brush is clean and not muddy.

ART STYLE

Early in my painting journey, I started practicing by painting scenic landscapes because they seemed easy to me. Of course, I overestimated myself. So I continued practicing more. Painting nature has grown on me, and I realized that my genre is landscape painting. The good thing about it is there is less structure unlike a portrait of a person, and shapes are organic so I will have no problem with imperfections. 

However, I still don’t have the ability to create my own work. I still have to watch tutorials online to have a guide. Most of my artworks were tutored by the artists I follow. Once I start painting with just a reference from Pinterest, I tend to get lost and suddenly don’t know what to do. I end up not continuing the work, which is a waste of time, energy, and material.

Lately, I returned to working with watercolor, but instead of nature, I used a reference photo of a person as a subject. Sketching the face first is my least favorite part, because if I mess up sketching the face, the whole painting is also a mess. Most of my subjects are K-pop idols, especially BTS, because I am also an ARMY! Working with faces is difficult but once you succeed, it is all worth it. 

Social media has highly influenced my art style. The fact that I get envious whenever I see new art trends gives me a push and inspires me to continue doing my art and explore more.

Check Out These Artists I Follow

Correa Art

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@CorreaArt

Instagram: instagram.com/correaart_

Jess Chung

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@JessChungArt

Instagram: instagram.com/jesschungart

Emily Mackey Art

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@EmilyMackeyArt

Instagram: instagram.com/emilymackeyar

Genelyn Sandaga

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@GenelynSandaga

Instagram: instagram.com/genelyn_sandaga

Socials

If you want to know more about my art, you can visit and support my two Instagram accounts:

@ChiliCheeseLover

@paintwith_amore

💜💜💜

If you have feedback to share, please do! I am eager to hear your thoughts. If not, kindly give this blog a heart; it is greatly appreciated!

💜💜💜

[xxsugarbones]

CHRISTMAS SICKNESS

-You had been so excited for Christmas, having planned to spend it with a group of your friends and your loving boyfriend. Too bad this sickness decided to roll around just in time to down you for the entire day.

cw - implied fem! reader but I don’t think I used any terms, chubby! reader, reader is very sick but their loving bf takes care of them 💕, nudity but not in a sexual way (he bathes them), fluff, not really proofread we die with grace in this household

wc - 2.3k

|| an - So I ended up getting the spicy flu for the second time just before Christmas and was sick through the entire day + Boxing Day, and I’m still not feeling too hot now on New Years Day. All I craved was comfort and snuggles but ofc I was infectious so that wasn’t gonna happen 😍🤞🏼

So whatever this is supposed to be was inspired by that fact, it’s not the best thing I’ve ever written but we’re rolling with it lmfao

I am also very late posting this but I wasn’t sure if it was good enough to post skrrt skrrt

Today was supposed to be fun. Today was supposed to be a day of celebration, family, food and gifts. But here you were, curled up in bed with a cold rag resting over your warm forehead, balled up underneath the heavy blankets while cold chills wracked your overheated body. It hurt. So bad. You were hypersensitive as it stood already, so the shivers that rolled through your body made it so much worse. You could feel the fabric of the blanket rubbing against your bare skin, just how heavy they were, all you could think about was how uncomfortable you were-

“How are you feeling, my love?” The familiar voice of your boyfriend called out softly, catching your attention. You gave a stuffy whine in reply, pulling the sheets up a little further before the next wave of shivers kicked in. It started off slow, goosebumps slowly rising to the top of your skin, before getting more and more intense, to the point they became so sensitive you had to beg your boyfriend to take the sheets off since you could barely move your arms yourself. Of course he obliged, quickly moving to your side of the bed and pulling the covers off of you, watching you shake where you lay. He was clearly worried about you, and you hated to see him look so sad like this.

“Thank you.. You know you don’t have to stay here.. You could go to that friendmas thing the others were talking about.” You mumbled once the shivers had died down once again, your heavily blocked sinuses making themselves known with the way you spoke. He shook his head, resting a cool hand on your warm cheek to try and cool you down, even a little.

“No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here, and taking care of you.” He stated, matter-of-factly, like that was the end of the conversation. And it seemed that it was because he stood up again.

“I’m gonna go run you a cool bath and make you something to drink.” You shrunk down into yourself at the mention of a cool bath, knowing it was going to hurt even more than the sheets did. But you didn’t have the energy to fight back or stop him from walking off, out of the bedroom and back towards the bathroom to get your bath started. He kept it lukewarm so you wouldn’t feel like you were freezing, adding a few drops of an essential oil that would hopefully help clear your sinuses. He sighed, eyeing the water sadly.

He knew just how excited you were for Christmas- the few years you two had been dating you always made such a big deal out of the holiday. Decorations, a big Christmas tree covered in ornaments, lights and tinsel, and you always enjoyed cooking the Christmas lunch or dinner. You always made some of the best mac and cheese, and your potato bake was on another level. But this year.. He sighed, standing up again and making his way back to the bedroom to collect you. By the time he got there you were once again curled up under the thick blankets, breathing heavily from your mouth and clutching onto the fabric of the blankets as the pain shot through your shaking form.

“You poor thing.” He sighed, shaking his head and siting on the edge of the bed again. You didn’t look at him, but you did slowly shuffle closer so your warm cheek was resting on his thigh. He sighed, reaching down to card his fingers through your hair. Truly, you poor thing..

“How about, after your bath, we go sit in the living room and open some presents, hm? That’ll perk you up. I know you’ll love what I got you.” He whispered with a soft smile, keeping his eyes on your expression. But you didn’t respond, just keeping your eyes closed and focusing on keeping your breathing even, though it almost came out in pants because it was just so hard to breathe. His smile faded quickly, and he sighed, carefully scooping you up and into his arms.

“Baby.. careful.. Gonna puke if you move me too fast..” You warned, grabbing onto the front of his shirt for stability. He apologised with a tone that could shatter your damn heart, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He took your words into account, keeping you bundled up in his arms as he forced himself to his feet. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, gripping tighter onto his shirt. It would never cease to amaze you just how easily he could lift you, like you were light as a feather.

“Come now, pretty girl, let’s get you cooled down.” He whispered, carrying you off to the bathroom. All you could muster was a tired moan, gripping onto him so tight as if he was going to drop you. But he would never. He had a soft, yet steady hold of you as he slipped into the bathroom, your cheek rubbing against his chest with each step he took. He couldn’t help but smile at the feeling, stepping into the bathroom. But he didn’t flick on the overhead lights. Instead, he carefully sat you down on the counter next to the sink, and flipped the switch of the salt lamp that sat on the windowsill, filling the bathroom with a soft orange glow.

“So your headache doesn’t get worse.” He explained as he pressed another kiss to your forehead. You pouted up at him.

“Baby, I’m sweating, don’t kiss my forehead.” You whined, reaching up to wipe said sweat away from your skin, which unfortunately (for you), meant you also wiped away the kiss he had just planted. He feigned hurt, puffing out his bottom lip and resting his hand over his heart.

“My heart, you break it. Wiping off my kiss like that. You must not love me anymore.” He teased, stepping closer to you again. He slotted himself between your legs, reaching forward and plucking up the hem of your singlet.

“C’mon. Arms up. Let’s get you in this bath.” You complied without much fight, lifting your arms above your head and allowing the man to pull the fabric off of you. Unfortunately it didnt do too much to help you. Once it was off you leaned forward, burying your face into the crook of his neck and sniffling, though it didn’t help because of just how congested you were.

“C’mon baby. I gotta finish undressing you to help.” He dropped his voice in volume since you were now right there, rubbing your bare back. Shit, your skin was so warm. But you felt freezing. The friction hurt. You audibly winced, and he pulled his hand away.

“Sorry baby. But it’s gonna hurt again once you’re in.” He whispered gently as a warning, working at your pyjama pants next. They took a bit more effort since you barely had the energy to lift your body off the counter enough for him to slide them off, but it eventually worked, the pants being thrown into the dirty clothes hamper. He scooped you back up, prompting you to wrap yourself around him like a baby koala would its mother, clinging onto him for dear life. He made the little trip over to the bathtub, and looked down at you with soft eyes.

“Come on.” He encouraged, and you slowly slid off of him, resting your feet back on the cold tiles. The action caused another immediate shiver to take over you. You hunched over, arms wrapping around yourself to try and keep warm.

“I know, sweetheart, but you need this. You’re running a bad fever.” He encouraged again, and finally, you turned your back to him, carefully stepping into the water. It may have been lukewarm, but it felt like cold fire. With a great deal of pain he helped lower you into the water, your body tensed up and tears pricking at the corners of your dull, tired eyes. He cooed, doing his best to keep you calm as he squatted next to the tub, dipping his hands into the water and cupping some, before carefully pouring it down onto your back. You gripped onto the sides of the tub, head dropping and trying so so hard not to shake or flinch away from his touch. You trusted him, with everything that you were. You knew he wasn’t going to hurt you. But this bath felt like absolute torture.

“You’re doing so well, honey. How about after this we go and open some presents, huh? Will that make you feel better?” He tried again, since he didn’t get a response the last time he had asked. This time, you slowly nodded your head. He poured a little more water over your shoulders, and hummed. “I’ll get you your favourite comforter so you can rug up and everything. How does that sound?” Another little nod in reply, so he smiled, just continuing his actions so you were soaked in the cool water, small winces and swears slipping from your lips every few seconds the longer he continued.

It lasted a little while longer until he was sure that you had cooled down enough, reaching into the water for the plug. But by then you were also shivering, arms wrapped tightly around your body and your thighs squished against your stomach as you attempted to curl up into yourself. His eyes saddened, and he grabbed the fluffy towel he had grabbed earlier, unrolling it on the counter, then moving to scoop you up and out of the tub. He set you down on the little mat in front of the sink so you didn’t slip, grabbing the towel once again and starting to pat you dry.

“I know, my love. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He whispered soothingly, and you simply nodded, just leaning against him. You barely had the energy to speak by then, honestly just wanting to go back to bed with him. Your eyes were droopy too, the soft lighting in the bathroom calming enough that it was making you drowsy yet again.

You didn’t notice him calling your name until he took your chin between his fingers, lifting your head up so your tired eyes gazed into his own concerned ones.

“Are you okay, my love?” He mumbled, setting the towel down and scooping you up off your feet again so he could carry you back to the bedroom. You shook your head a little, resting your cheek against his.

“‘M okay, baby.. I love you..” You mumbled softly against the shell of his ear, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face between your soft bicep and his neck. Your eyes closed, which he caught onto pretty quickly. He turned the corner into the room, and carefully set you down on the bed. You opened your tired eyes again to look up at him.

“I’ll get you some clothes and help you dress, give me a second, my love.” His lips pressed against your hairline so tenderly, it had your heart melting. You watched him pull back and step to the dresser, pulling open your drawers and picking you out a pair of short pyjamas. He was going to wrap you up in a comforter shortly anyway, so there wasn’t a point in dressing you with more clothes and making those hypersensitive shivers hurt even more than they already did. You could feel the little tears bubbling up in the corners of your eyes again. He was so perfect. Not once had he made this out to be a chore, not once had he gotten annoyed or upset with you. You had felt horrible having to cancel going to the Friendmas celebration, but you had insisted he go without you. He had flat out refused. There was no way he was going without you, or leaving you home alone feeling like this.

“Y’ keep zoning out on me, baby, you sure you’re good?” He finally snapped you out of your thoughts again, looking up to him as he kneeled in front of you to help slip on your clean shorts. You nodded your head weakly, offering him a lopsided smile.

“Just thinking about how much I love you.” You hummed out with a soft breath; and he smiled, shaking his head. You were too sweet. He continued, just carefully dressing you until you were semi-comfortable again, then wrapping you up in your favourite blanket, all snug as a bug. He once again lifted you up, your legs around his hips and your arms around his chest while clinging onto the comforter, as he once more exited the bedroom. This time, his destination was the living room. But before he sat you down so he could get you something from underneath the intricately decorated tree (that you had decorated together at the beginning of the month, thanks to your pleading and begging), you mumbled something into his ear, clearly half asleep and struggling to even hold onto him anymore.

“Can I just sleep? Wanna cuddle you but wanna sleep..” He looked down at the back of your head with a blink, but he nodded his head, walking the both of you over to the deep couch and carefully sinking down into it with you straddling his lap comfortably, his arms around your hips.

“Of course. Whatever you want.” He whispered, sliding his hand underneath the back of your shirt to spread his hand over the flat of your back. The skin contact made you groan into his neck, one more shiver rolling through your body, but this one didn’t hurt. No. The goosebumps covering your body were good, and it made you just snuggle down further into him.

“Love you..” You whispered, exhaustion tugging you further and further into sleep. He smiled against the side of your head, eyes closing.

“I love you too, my dear. Merry Christmas.”

[signed-sapphire]

Okayyyy rewatched Wish

Here are my notes

Valentino wasn’t as annoying as people say. Sure, he did nothing for the plot and could’ve been removed entirely, but he didn’t make near as many butt jokes as people say he did

The lead-ins for all the songs were great. Certain media (Hazbin, for example) just jump into the songs

Magnifico??? Didn’t touch the pages??? So why would he be corrupted? Why does Amaya know of obsidian oil? Don’t you just skim the pages to release the evil?

Dahlia was amazing

“At the very least break the hold it has on him” Amaya? Didn’t you found this kingdom with thin? Wouldn’t you know?

Also Amaya was very sidelined. Where’s her backstory?

Asha’s magic wand mishaps were… corny at best

Why did they make Dario high all the time? He’s not stupid. I feel like they made him try to be like Fred from Big Hero 6 but failed

“Nine zillyboo, twenty alphabet!” Val, buddy. No.

DAHLIA. MATE. TRUE LOVE’S KISS CAN BRUNG HIM BACK I swear, it feels like the directors were switched

The spider-carriage thing. I feel like that could’ve been a Disney reference instead

Gabo was still my favorite out of the teens. Bazeema was sweet too

Also. Halzeema moments were actually in canon.

Sabino did not act 100 at all.

Crushing wishes did nothing to people except make them sad for .2 seconds

Asha’s drawing, her magic wand, none of that was important to the actual plot

I feel like the horses could’ve been Disney references too

Why did the roof open? That was never explained

Mag’s hair needed to be messier. Evil Magnifico? Crazy hair

How did he hear them from all the way down there

Mag’s really out there beating up a minor

The curse rope green things were not scary at all

Was Simon just in the forest the entire time?

The Magnifico getting sucked inside his staff… I feel that could’ve been a play to Dr. Facilier somehow

The stars raining down were beautiful

Was Star’s nose tap a reference to something?

The people’s talking… idk how I felt about that

WE 👏 SHOULD’VE 👏 SEEN 👏 SAKINA’S 👏 WISH

Another half-assed apology. First Namaari, now you. At least Simon’s was an actual apology. Wait. More of it goes on.

Ok his apology isn’t too bad

How did the staff get all the way down there?

Changed my opinion, Amaya deserved to tell Mag off

Did Mag’s curse break once he was in the mirror? Why did he act sad all of a sudden?

I’ve heard Asha’s movements weren’t finalized until later, but her movements seem pretty fluent

Clumsy and energetic, sure, but besides from the mouth drooping part, she wasn’t that quirky

Which. Could be a bad thing. She didn’t really have much of a personality

I like the Peter Pan building a flying machine idea

Zootopia ref

DARIO. SHUT UP

Why does everyone suddenly understand Star

But off-topic they were so cute

“It” I guess

Why refer to Star as an it

“They” was too woke for the Disney execs? Why, you had a one-second offhand comment about a water cousin who’s nonbinary!

That Cinderella-reference thing… wasn’t slow enough to be a dress transformation. So I’m fine with her not having a different dress. I mean obviously I would’ve loved it but idk

SHOW DON’T TELL, DISNEY

STOP TELLING

“I understand you well enough” I DON’T! HOW ARE THEY TELLING YOU

Some of Valentino’s jokes were funny. Sue me

I liked the Tinkerbell and Mikey Mouse reference at the end

The storybook was a nice callback

The credits should’ve been moving. Also CHOOSE BAYMAX TO REPRESENT BIG HERO 6. WHY HAVE VILLAINS LIKE MALEFICENT THERE

Overall. Not as bad as people are making it out to be. But definitely not worthy to be Disney’s 100

I’d say… 7/10. The backgrounds did look watercolor, but the shading seemed off in places. Especially Sakina. There was major improvement to be done, but with the hell the execs were giving (and the proven creativity of the concept art) I feel this movie is getting too much hate. Critiques and criticism are fine. But don’t blame the writers for getting rid of Starboy. Yes, it could’ve been better. But it’s Disney. And the creators tried their best to pour their love into a movie that they didn’t have a full say in.

[whorinsmokenshield]

Soap and Water

Augusnippets Day 2

Summary: The hand was tough with callouses that rubbed on his scalp, coaxing Bilbo’s sore eyes to peel apart and face the blistering white sunlight.

“Hmm? Bilbo croaked. He tried to shift, his body trembling, and the hand in his hair slipped around to his back to support him. “Who’s there?”

“Someone who loves you very much.”

Rating: Teen

Warning: None

(This is a direct sequel to my previous work 'Soup', so the rest of the missing context is in there. TL;DR Bilbo was captured by orcs and rescued after about a week in captivity)

(Written for @augusnippets. Day 2, Path of Comfort: Hair Care. Ao3 upload here.)

~~~~~~~~

It was a warm hand in Bilbo’s hair that tugged him out of a deep sleep.

The hand was tough with callouses that rubbed on his scalp, coaxing Bilbo’s sore eyes to peel apart and face the blistering white sunlight.

“Hmm? Bilbo croaked. He tried to shift, his body trembling, and the hand in his hair slipped around to his back to support him. “Who’s there?”

“Someone who loves you very much.”

There was a tension in Bilbo’s body that he didn’t realize was there until the timbre of Thorin’s voice caused it to bleed away.

“Thorin?” said Bilbo, then flinched and grabbed his head at the sharp pain that pierced inside it. “Oh…oh, my head.”

Thorin put his hand over Bilbo’s and his thumb brushed the skin of Bilbo’s hand. 

“Slowly, amrâlimê. Be slow,” he eased. “Let me help you.”

Thorin’s hands were unbearably gentle as they eased him up into an attempted sitting position. He brought Bilbo to lean against his chest, and Bilbo did so with no complaint. Bilbo sat dizzy with exhaustion and tried to focus his eyes on the woods around them. Cicadas buzzed in the trees and larks twittered in the far distance. It was more than likely that the camp of rowdy dwarves stomping about the campground scared away any birds that were nearer than half a league.

As Bilbo’s head pulsed, so did the world. Every twinge of pain came with a movement of the light that only worsened Bilbo’s dizziness. 

“How are you feeling?” Thorin murmured, a blessing for Bilbo’s headache. “What do you need?”

“Need? Well I need the earth to stop moving, firstly,” Bilbo groaned and blearily blinked his eyes. His mouth flooded with saliva. His stomach churned. “Thorin- I need- s-sick-”

He barely gave Thorin enough of a warning to hold him up and turn him over for him to vomit, for the second time, the nothing he had in his stomach. Acid and bile and a horrible empty feeling churned up in his stomach and soured his mouth, and the full-body lurching sent peals of burning throughout his muscles. Like his limbs were overused and like his skin was fried crispy with oil. Gags interspersed in his moans of misery, his nose and eyes ran and he felt a sob of frustration pushing up his throat.

Thorin was right there with him. Bilbo’s hair had gotten long enough to braid and long enough to get into Bilbo’s mouth as he hurled, and Thorin swept it out and gathered BIlbo’s hair in his hand. He braced Bilbo with his other hand splayed on Bilbo’s chest, letting his body curl around him. His whispered warm assurances over his shoulder, soothing him, occasionally bringing the hand up from Bilbo’s chest to dry the tears that streaked down his cheeks.

“Shh, you’re alright. Get it out, just get it out. I have you. Just get it out.”

Bilbo spat out his sick and tried to curl in on himself, feeling both humiliated and excruciatingly hungry. When did he last eat? What had Óin said last night? Where was he? What was going on?

“Where am I?” he croaked, spitting again.

Thorin released the grip on his hair, fussing with it. Rubbing the spot where his marriage braid had been sliced off, and where a large slash now crusted.

“You’re with me and the company. We’re a few leagues from Erebor. You’re not expected to know where we are,” Thorin hushed.

“I don’t remember anything. I can’t-” his breath caught, he pressed his hand back to his head. Thorin guided him out of his hunched position.

“Shh shh shh. Slowly. You’re safe. Breathe. Breathe.” Bilbo was being leaned back against Thorin’s chest again. Thorin gave quiet orders in Khuzdul to one of the Company who lingered behind them. Bilbo only recognized the phrase ‘give me-’. Then he spoke back to Bilbo, “You don’t have to remember anything now. Focus on me.” He said it in a voice so hushed and soft Bilbo felt it like a caress.

Bilbo trembled slightly with a groan, really feeling his body for the first time. His belly felt scraped hollow. He grasped at Thorin’s sleeve. “Thorin. Thorin, I’m so hungry.”

“I know, love. Give me a moment.” Thorin took something from Bofur when he approached, and Bofur rubbed the top of Bilbo’s head before stepping away. “Sit up with me. Here.”

Bilbo’s body moved mindlessly with Thorin propping him up. A bowl was pressed into his hands, warmth seeping up into his scabby fingers and easing the pain in his joints. It twinged something in his memory, looking down at it.

“What is this?” Bilbo muttered absentmindedly.

“Pheasant, bone stock, wild mushrooms, but this is just the broth. Too much at once will make you sick.” Thorin kissed the side of his head. “Do you need help?”

“No, no I-” The little spoon he was given slipped from Bilbo’s fingers, but Thorin caught it before it got dirty. “Oh, darn it.”

“Let me. Please,” Thorin said. All thoughts of resisting drained out of Bilbo’s mind. When Thorin brought a spoonful of bone broth to him, he swallowed it eagerly, though when it hit his stomach a horrible cramp rolled through him. It didn’t stop Bilbo from swallowing another, then another, until the bowl was empty and a nauseous, full-feeling sensation was what replaced the hunger.

Bilbo swallowed. “When did I last eat?” he asked.

Thorin sighed, “I don’t know.”

“A week, then?” Bilbo offered.

“...Never mind that.” Thorin patted him. “We’ll move out soon. I wanted to have you as comfortable as possible before we left.”

The thought of doing another walk to the Lonely Mountain from however-far-they-were away filled Bilbo with dread, and he moaned quietly. In his fragile state it could have brought tears to his eyes if Thorin didn’t immediately assuage him.

“You are not walking. We have a pony for you. As if I would let you walk under your own power after that.” Thorin cupped Bilbo’s chin and turned his head far enough that he could plant a kiss on BIlbo’s lips. “I’d like to clean you up first.”

Now that he mentioned it, Bilbo did feel like he was caked in filth and grime. The taste in his mouth was abominable, there was dirt and blood embedded under his nails, and he overall felt like a piece of muck one would kick off a carriage road.

“That sounds lovely,” breathed Bilbo. 

Thorin couldn’t seem to keep off Bilbo, as he moved his little kisses to Bilbo’s filthy hair and forehead, both of which were tacky with dried sweat.

Bilbo scoffed. “No, stop that, I’m disgusting.”

“You are not.” Thorin squeezed his arms. “But you do smell like an orc camp, and I’d rather you smell as you normally do as soon as possible.”

“You’re so charming.” Bilbo nuzzled against Thorin’s body and relished in the comforting warmth he emitted. Thorin, for his part, did not smell like an orc camp. He smelled of pine, smoke, and iron underneath a musk of pure Thorin. 

“Only for you,” said Thorin. “Are you still nauseous?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Could you stand me lifting you?”

Bilbo grimaced. “Is there any other choice?”

Thorin kissed him a bit firmer. Still chaste, given the double bout of vomiting. “Would you like me to count?”

“Please.”

Bilbo grabbed Thorin’s arm in a tighter grip while Thorin shifted their bodies into the best position to lift.

“One, two, three-” Thorin pushed to his feet and carried Bilbo with him in a bride’s carry. Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck and buried his head into the join of Thorin’s shoulder, hiding how hard he was fighting to not throw up again. He moaned and whimpered in quiet bursts, and each one Thorin soothed just as quietly.

“Fíli, Kíli,” Thorin called while Bilbo tried to settle.

“Yes” and “Uncle” arose. Both boys were at attention at once as though awaiting battle orders. Bilbo hadn’t ever seen them so responsive to Thorin outside of situations of peril.

“Grab Bilbo’s pack and Óin’s spare kit. Meet us down at the stream.” The princes confirmed the orders they were given and Thorin began to walk to the treeline, away from the camp. Bilbo took the opportunity to see the company over Thorin’s shoulder.

Save for a few attending to minor duties, as well as the boys gathering the bags, a majority of the company were gathered in an anxious clump watching Bilbo and Thorin walk away. They all looked unsettled. Slowly, Bilbo raised one of his hands in a sheepish wave, which broke the ice well enough and drew many chuckles and some enthusiastic waves back from Bofur, Balin and Ori.

When they broke the treeline the company disappeared from sight, and Bilbo settled in for the walk. Thorin was singing under his breath, and the tune sounded like a mining song. Bilbo only understood the Khuzdul words for ‘gems’ and ‘gold’.

The creek nearby was a good size. Not as deep as a river, running with cool and clear water, and Thorin stopped just before the shoreline. The trickling of water in the cold fog of the morning was a balm to Bilbo’s soul. He sighed in contentment and snuggled into his husband’s chest, breathing in the smell of the stream and the chittering of the beetles in the woods.

Thorin eased down onto his knees and set Bilbo down. Bilbo stood on his own power, though Thorin insisted he keep himself propped up by using Thorin’s shoulders as a crutch. Bilbo’s legs strained, knees quivering, and without Thorin to warm him he found the air quite cold.

Bilbo chuckled a little, though it came out very disheartened. “I feel so weak.”

“You were poisoned, kurdel . You haven’t eaten in days and were held in captivity. You’re allowed as much weakness as you like,” soothed Thorin as he brushed some of Bilbo’s unruly hair out of his face. His fingers lingered on a stiff chunk of strands that prompted Bilbo to turn his eyes to see it. 

What he saw caused him to pull a face. “How lovely,” he grumbled. There was vomit in his hair. Looking down he saw his foot hair too was matted through with blood, dirt, and some other nasty things. He couldn’t help how his eyes began to water when he saw it.

“Shh,” Thorin took the back of Bilbo’s head and pressed their foreheads together. Bilbo was sure his breath was positively vile, but Thorin had no reaction to it. “I’ll take care of you. And I promise that you are no less lovely now than you were on the day I married you.”

Bilbo gasped a watery laugh as Fíli and Kíli joined them. “So on my wedding day I looked like I was dragged out of an orc camp. Wonderful.”

Where Thorin might have once playfully condemned his sass, it brought a soft smile to his face now. He kissed Bilbo once more, cupping his cheek.

“You will never be parted from me like that again. Not as long as I breathe.” Something bitter and guilty shone in Thorin’s expression. “Bilbo. My heart, I am so sorry. This should have never happened. I failed you.”

Bilbo put his own hand over Thorin’s on his face, shaking his head, but they were swiftly interrupted.

“Oi! Don’t be gross. There are children here,” Fíli called as he and Kíli approached. “Morning, Bilbo. Good to see you up!”

“Wish I could say the same,” replied Bilbo. “It doesn’t feel good.”

Fíli offered a wry smile. “Give it time. First thing’s first.” He dropped a stuffed pack by Thorin’s knees. “A change of clothes. I think your current ones will have to be burned.”

Bilbo didn’t doubt that. There wasn’t a scrap of fabric on him untouched by grease, blood, or other unfortunate things. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to toss some clothing that was soiled beyond saving.

“Here’s some soap.” Kíli gestured with his bag and put it right next to the other, his smaller and less packed. “Bandages for bleeding, creams and whatnot. How are you feeling?”

“I was worse yesterday,” said Bilbo.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Bilbo looked at Kíli and his heart cracked at the look on his face. He seemed so distraught, looking as if he were waiting for Bilbo to be toppled by a stiff breeze.

Bilbo smiled piteously. “Oh, don't look at me like that. Come here.”

“I’m not looking at you like-”

“Kíli, get over here and let me hold you.” Bilbo released Thorin to open his arms in invitation. Thorin’s hand on him kept him steady. “You too, Fíli. Come here boys.”

Neither of them hesitated, dropping to their knees like their uncle and sandwiching Bilbo in a hug. Despite the burning pain that erupted in his muscles and back Bilbo knitted both of his hands in both of their hair and pulled them close. It was hard to be more content than this; his husband at his side, his boys in his arms, the ripple of the brook weaving between them in the silence. If only the stench of orc weren’t so permeant. 

Suddenly, Kíli started to tremble, and Bilbo heard hastily-swallowed sniffs in his ear. Bilbo stroked Kíli’s hair.

“Oh, sweet lad. I’m okay. You saved me. I’m all safe and sound here. There, there, I’m alright, no need for tears,” he hushed.

“You looked- I thought you-” Kíli got out between breaths. Bilbo shushed him again.

“Shh shh shh. I know lad. But I’m alright. Everything’s alright,” said Bilbo. “How about you, Fíli? Are you okay?”

Fíli nodded, though he seemed a little teary as well. When he pulled away he said, “But you can’t do that again. I don’t think Uncle’s heart could take it.”

Thorin scoffed, Bilbo giggled.

“I’ll certainly be taking it off my schedule for the next time we encounter those foul creatures.” He nudged Kíli off of him with a loving push, but kissed him on the forehead as he did. “At least I know if it happens again, I’ve got two boys who will move heaven and earth to burgle me right out from their foetid little noses, don’t I?”

“Of course,” said Fíli. As Kíli parted from Bilbo he pressed their foreheads together, then stood.

“We’ll be with the others gathering camp,” Kíli said as he scrubbed the redness from his eyes and cheeks. He hadn’t been fully crying, but it was a near thing. “Óin says to take it slow and call for help if need be. See you soon, Mister Boggins.”

With that they took their leave, Fíli slinging his arm over Kíli’s shoulder and disappearing shortly thereafter into the trees.

“Those boys,” sighed Bilbo. “Why did it have to be them that found me?”

“That is my fault,” Thorin said. “We didn’t know what state you would be in when we found you, and feared you would fight. I thought it would be best if you had someone you could recognize easily. I was needed in the ambush, and the boys volunteered at once. They were the only ones more desperate than me to bring you back.”

Thorin stood and shucked his coat. He turned on Bilbo and said in a gentle voice, “I’m going to undress you and help you bathe. Fíli’s right, we will have to burn these clothes.”

If Bilbo wasn’t already certain that the water was going to be frigid cold and make it hurt more to move than it already did, he might have protested much more. Shame lit up Bilbo’s cheeks at his own helplessness. When Thorin finished stripping his top layers he was left in his undergarments and trousers, barefoot on the damp stone, and then reached out to begin unbuttoning Bilbo’s top.

Bilbo tried to help by going up from the bottom but found his hands were too stiff and shook too much for fine detail work. Getting even a single button undone was a hopeless task.

Thorin took Bilbo’s tremulous little fingers in his warm hands.

“Amrâlimê , let me serve you this once. Please.” Then he brought up Bilbo’s fingers and kissed the tips of them. “It would be better for you to move as little as possible.”

“Hmph. Is that what Óin said?” Bilbo asked him as he let Thorin guide the shirt off his shoulders and arms.

“It is,” said Thorin, simply. “And I trust my cousin with your life. I wouldn’t even have you on a pony if I could help it. Trousers now, move your legs.”

Bilbo balanced on Thorin’s shoulders as Thorin undid his trousers and loosened them so they fell to his ankles and Bilbo could step out of them. At last went his undershirt and smallclothes, all pieces ruined and filthy, and soon Bilbo was standing nude.

Thorin’s eyes trailed down Bilbo’s torso and filled with emotion. Bilbo almost didn’t dare look down, but he knew he would have to eventually. It was better to just get it over with. ‘Rip out the bur’ so to speak.

His body was a menagerie of wounds; scabbed gashes, scrapes, bruises in many colors. There were burns scattered on the skin of his arms down to the backs of his hands. His legs were like the soft apples at the bottom of the basket with how bruised they were, and most of his skin was itchy with dried blood. A few long marks wrapped around his sides from his back, and he could only wonder what his back looked like. 

Hadn’t Ori said he’d been whipped?

Bilbo caught an eyeful of his ragged shirt and his heart dropped at how saturated it was with brown blood and how many gashes were slashed in the fabric. It was amazing that the thing was still able to hang on his shoulders.

“Don’t look,” Thorin instructed, and Bilbo felt compelled to obey. He met Thorin’s eyes instead.

Thorin made short work of the rest of his clothes and led Bilbo to the edge of the flat rock they stood on, bidding him to sit down. Slowly.

“Careful! Careful,” Thorin insisted as Bilbo moved too fast for his liking. Perhaps it was indeed too fast, for it made his legs feel like hot iron. Thorin helped him down the rest of the way, and Bilbo plopped to the ground with a pained sound.

When his feet hit the water he recoiled at the shock of cold. He gasped in stutters and Thorin supported him so he wouldn’t fall backwards.

“Can you do it?” Thorin asked, seriously. No doubt he would bathe Bilbo by hand if Bilbo asked.

Bilbo nodded. He had to catch his breath before he responded, “Yes.”

“We’ll go slowly.”

Thorin dug around in Óin’s bag while Bilbo adjusted to the water and returned with a lump of off-white soap and a beard comb. He waded into the stream (Bilbo watched the goose pimples erect across his chest and belly with interest) and it turned out to be deeper than Bilbo initially thought. The water made it up to Thorin’s chest. Bilbo certainly wouldn’t be able to bathe in it without help.

Taking the soap, Thorin lifted one of Bilbo’s feet by the heel. The hair on top of it was a shameful wreck - if Bilbo had seen it on a dog he’d have had it shorn off. Thorin didn’t so much as balk. He ran the soap over the top of his feet up his ankles and calves and worked up a thick lather on his skin. He worked the lather into Bilbo’s foot hair with deft fingers and blood and filth washed off in brown suds, and with it came every drop of tension in Bilbo’s back and neck. As Thorin worked his fingers through Bilbo’s hair his thumbs massaged the bottom of his foot, the pressure sweet and painless through the thick, leathery skin. Old pains gave way beneath his loving touch, warmth blushing up Bilbo’s calf despite the water’s chill.

Thorin had his comb between his teeth, and took it out to run it through the clean, knotted hair. He took care not to break so much as a single strand as he coaxed the hair to a smooth finish. All the while Bilbo moaned under his breath at the simple pleasure of it all. Though his back was beginning to ache and his thighs to burn he didn’t dare move lest he interrupt the quiet peace that Thorin had drawn the two of them into. When his lower leg was as clean as it had ever been, Thorin laid a kiss on the top of his foot and moved on to the other.

Bilbo was eventually laying on his back (never minding the sting that the pressure brought) and nearly asleep as Thorn washed his feet. Soap was laved between his toes and up to the backs of his knees, washing away days and days of dirt from the small cracks in his sole and paying it a loving amount of attention.

He took Bilbo’s hands and pulled him up to sit, then compelled him to let Thorin lower him ever so slowly into the water. The chill stung Bilbo’s open wounds, but that wasn’t enough to keep Bilbo from groaning aloud at the feeling of thick grime sloughing off of his skin.

“Stay close to me so I can keep you up. Just close your eyes and let me do the work. I’ll be holding you the whole time,” said Thorin.

It was an open secret that Bilbo, and Hobbits in general, could not swim. But that fear didn’t even touch Bilbo’s mind while he was in that water. Not a piece of him believed that he was in danger as long as his favorite dwarf was within reach.

Thorin started with shoulders and worked his way down Bilbo’s body with the dwindling lump of soap. Under his hands the cakes of mud, muck, blood, and sweat were wiped away leaving nothing but clean and tender skin. They were pressed together at the hip, and Bilbo delighted at the feel of their bodies’ warmth mingling. Bilbo was exhausted and ill, covered in weeping wounds, so anything hotter than this single touch was more than Bilbo could handle. But this intimacy, which he could share with Thorin and Thorin alone, was heady. His body must have been starved for a gentle hand.

Bilbo breathed, “I love you.”

Thorin hummed. “And your name is etched into every facet of my heart.”

“No,” Bilbo groaned. “My head hurts. I can’t one-up you like this.”

“You’re right.” Thorin dipped down and kissed him. “All you can do is sit there and let me love you. May I have the honor of washing your hair?”

Every time they’ve ever bathed together, Thorin asked that same question. And while Bilbo knew in his heart of hearts that he would never refuse him, Thorin remained steadfast that it was a privilege he would always ask for first. It gave Bilbo fluttery insides even if he didn’t fully understand the reasoning for it.

“You always may,” Bilbo replied. Thorin smiled brilliantly and turned Bilbo in the water so that they were back-to-front.

Thorin combed his fingers through Bilbo’s curly hair, dampening it with water and pulling fresh suds through it. However knotted his foot hair was, it was nothing against the sheep's wool Thorin was pulling through now. The roots were greasy and his curls were limp and ill-looking. But Thorin's touch was just as gentle as it was before.

He worked out the vomit first and foremost, then the blood. Anything that had crusted was given special attention and extra combing. The trail of the comb through his fine hair was hypnotic, as was the way Thorin brushed stray curls behind his ears and using caution when working at knots near the tips of them. He was as focused as a dwarf at his craft. His hands were so heavy, his touch so warm, that Bilbo began to doze (even knowing how early in the morning it still was, and how little he’d been awake). He didn’t even notice when Thorin tipped them both back to dip his hair in the water to rinse out the first wash.

Perhaps the only hobbit to ever fall asleep and then wake up in water, Bilbo regained his awareness without knowing when he’d even lost it. He and Thorin were now propped against the stone on the bank while Thorin ran his hands through the strands of Bilbo’s hair. The movements were so familiar and practiced that Bilbo knew at once what it was: Thorin was reweaving their marriage braid right behind the spot where the old one had been shorn, and humming an old Shire song as he did. One that Bilbo had taught him. 

When Thorin finished the braid, Bilbo was on the verge of overwhelmed tears.

“Bunnanunê,” Thorin uttered tenderly. He turned Bilbo around and thumbed away the tears from Bilbo’s face. “Why the tears now?”

That pulled a full-blown sob out of him. “I don’t know,” he croaked. “I love you so much.”

“Oh, ghivashel,” Thorin sighed. “Come here.”

Thorin wrapped him up tight in his arms and held Bilbo to his chest. Bilbo sobbed into his neck, feeling deep, unfamiliar emotions pour out of him in every breath. Tension, terror, relief, exhaustion, all of it.

And for a while, Bilbo just let himself be held.

~~~~~~~~

This fic was, once again: -Unedited -Written in a day -More than 3.5k words over the challenge limit (was supposed to be under 500)

I've never written a full recovery fic before so lmk what you think. Ao3 Username is Sullen_in_love

[daisychainsandbowties]

ava only fully understanding now what mary had lost in shannon, having picked up more of the story than mary had been willing to share in those scant few weeks before her disappearance. having had time to sit with herself and be able to look back and see the way mary had been so thoroughly wrapped around an absence, a corpse, and now in the aftermath clinging so tightly to her, to this idea of what she could have done to bea had she not survived

picking the story out of bea like unwrapping a wound. nights in switzerland with the windows open and the lights off and the whole world reduced to beatrice’s voice.

talking about mary so precisely, never slipping on the grammar. always mary is, like words alone could bring her home. but then the shift, inevitable, as beatrice draws the past out of her pocket like an old receipt and smooths it onto the table so that ava can look, breathing in a half-forgotten scent.

cedarwood and oil paint drying (‘it takes a very long time’). turpentine and a mug full of paint water and shannon’s mouth against it. charcoal dust and pencils scattered over her desk. boots propped by the door.

how mary would look at her. the glancing touches, the way they’d hold each other after missions and it made beatrice think of atoms colliding at great speed. turning into light, turning everything to dust.

beatrice looking down at her hands as the grammar shifts to shannon was.

when ava phases, her body turns to diffuse light, threads of scattered gold. she wants to ask beatrice if there’s ever a trace, a sketch, a silhouette of someone else inside that light.

she doesn’t ask, but when mary comes back she tells ava that she sees shannon everywhere. in the light falling down behind the hills. in roof tiles and old hoodies and too many pairs of boots.

‘do you see her in me?’

‘i see her in beatrice. with you it’s… more of a feeling.’

‘like a vibe?’

a slow, fond smile. ‘sure. it’s like a vibe.’

both of them roasting marshmallows on a campfire and beatrice just visible between the trees, stooping to collect more wood. when mary speaks again her voice has an ache inside it.

‘sometimes when i’m standing next to you i forget where i am, and it’s like i’m catching her light, casting her shadow.’

ava taking her hand, putting her head on mary’s shoulder and feeling a sudden surge of warmth in the halo. like a hand reaching out to grasp them both.

but all she says is, ‘you fucked up your marshmallow.’

they swap sticks so that when bea comes back she kneels next to ava, puts her hand over ava’s hand to teach her how to do it right. mary shaking with silent laughter as ava pretends to be clueless for the sake of bea saying, ‘here, like this. close but not too close to the flames.’

ava thinking too late, i’m already in the fire. i’m already alight.

kissing bea when she’s finished her demonstration and making her taste-test the perfectly cooked marshmallow. mary groaning and ava laughing into bea’s mouth, tasting sugar, carbon, fire.

watching mary sit next to the dying light as bea sets up their sleeping bags. ava privately of the opinion that they definitely don’t need two of them. then turning, seeing mary upset the ashes, look into the sky, lips moving.

maybe it’s prayer. ava knows she prayed to beatrice on the other side.

going into the tent and kissing bea slow, tender, hiding an apology in her mouth, on the inside of her arm, between her breasts. knowing she was almost an absence, like shannon. a loss, a thing of light and dust. knowing mary will never unravel it from her bones. but knowing, as she did when she kissed bea the first time, that love is worth holding, worth having. even for an instant, for the length of a kiss and a goodbye.

that a house is only ever haunted because someone lived in it, slept in it, painted its walls and ate meals in the kitchen. she wakes up in the morning and mary’s there, making coffee, telling ava that shannon always put a spoonful of sugar in hers, but no milk.

‘bittersweet?’

‘yeah.’

and ava knows from bea that mary drinks her coffee unsweetened, but sometimes with a little milk. and yet watching as mary pours out the coffee and empties a sugar packet into hers. sipping it and looking out at the trees, at the forest, at all these places shannon has never touched.

[pleaseeeimjustagirl]

It Is Time For 'Baddie Hibernation'

Hey babes we have 3 months before the summer! It is time to tighten up! This is the time to work on your physical and mental I know we all want to be hot girls this summer so now is the time to prioritize ourselves!

Routines

♡ Routines are super important. they are your key to success and living an organized life. If you have not created a routine already I created a blog post on how to create a productive routine. This is the time to stick to your routines in the morning and night and adjust them if needed. 

Physical 

♡ Hygiene. Consistency is key for your facial care routine to work so be consistent in applying all your products. If you aren't seeing results with a certain product you have been using for over 3 months maybe try and find a better product. I recommend using a gua sha three times a week there are so many benefits in using a gua sha blog post coming soon! Don’t just focus on your facial care focus also on your body care use African exfoliating net sponges, shave regularly, apply lotions and body oils, and use feet masks to peel dead skin.

♡ Diet. For my girlies who are on a weight loss journey and want to be snatched before summer, it is time to be dedicated to sticking to your diet. I don’t have any specific diets to recommend do what works for you. If you struggle with Binge Eating Disorder like me I have a book that I can recommend that will help you work on your ED and also help you lose weight “The Binge Code” by Allison Kerr and Richard Kerr. This book has been a game-changer for me!  For my babes who aren't focused on weight loss, it is still important to try and eat healthier try including a variety of whole foods into your diet and drink waterrr!!! Water is so good for us from our skin to our digestive system try and drink at least 50oz but aim for 100oz of water daily.

♡ Movement. Try and include some sort of movement daily we must move our bodies daily. Figure out what type of exercise you like walking is very simple and costs absolutely nothing. Start small with 10 minutes of outdoor walking daily. Natural light is so beneficial for our mental health and mood. Yoga and pilates are such amazing slow and impactful forms of exercise. I've been including yoga in my nighttime routine there are so many channels and videos on YouTube you can follow. There are so many other forms of exercise you can try some free and some that cost money.

♡ Supplements. Help and maintain our overall health they can also help with our daily requirements of essential nutrients. I will be listing a few supplements below <333

Multivitamin. Find a reputable multivitamin and take it daily or as instructed. Multivitamins can boost energy and give you vitamins and minerals you might be deficient in.

Magnesium. Improves mood, sleep, exercise performance, regulates blood sugar, and so much more. Magnesium is overlooked by many but so beneficial for us. I've been seeing the bedtime magnesium mocktail I have yet to try but I plan to.

Omega 3(fish oil). Helps with typical brain and eye development. It can fight inflammation and help prevent heart disease and the decline of brain function.

Vitamin D. A lot of us during the winter time have a deficiency in vitamin D because the sun is not out a lot so vitamin D supplements are a must-have they help with regulating mood, reducing depression, healthy bones, and so many other amazing benefits.

Vitamin B Complex. Helps boost energy levels, brain function, digestion, and cell health. There are so many other benefits.

Probiotics. Helps improve gut health, puts healthy bacteria into our gut that in turn helps our digestive system, and inflammation, and can even help aide your weightless journey. 

Mental 

♡ Sleep. Our bodies function so much better when we are getting a good amount of sleep. You think clearly and your mood is better. Try and set a bedtime for yourself and stick to it. I had to sleep train myself at the beginning of the semester it was so harddd but I'm reaping the benefits now I have energy during the day, my mood is better in the morning, and my brain functions better during the day.

♡ Journaling. We have a lot of emotions that we carry throughout the day and it is important that we let them out and journaling is the best way to do so. I have three journals. One journal is for my emotions, another for gratitude journaling which I highly recommend you get into, and finally my last journal for shadow work. You do not need to have three journals but I like to have everything separate it helps me. 

♡ Book. I love reading and listening to self-help books. We all have issues that we need to fix and thankfully we have so many self-help books dedicated to so many different issues people face on a daily. I have so many recommendations I’ll list below.

The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest (self-sabotaging)

The Most Powerful Woman In The Room Is You by Lydia Fenet (confidence and career)

Atomic Habits by James Clear (building good habits)

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson (living a carefree life)

The Binge Code by Allison Kerr and Richard Kerr (binge eating, weight loss)

The Shadow Work Journal by Keila Shaheen (internal healing)

The Eldest Daughter Effect by Lisette Schuitemaker and Wies Enthoven (eldest daughters)

The Game Of Life And How To Play It by Florence Scovel and Joel Fotinos (from pessimistic to optimistic, affirmations, and manifestation)

The Power Of The Pussy by Kara King (femininity and dating) 

8 Rules Of Love by Jay Shetty (dating and psychology)

The Muslim Woman’s Manifesto by Kashmir Maryam (religion, mental health, and women)

These are the books I can recommend so far there are more searches for books related to the issues you may be facing or things you want to improve on in your life<3 

♡ Therapy. I'm a big mental health advocate and it is very important that if you are dealing with mental health issues you get help<3. I've dealt with my issues before and I used better help I found the best therapist who helped me through so much. I love the way they allow you to choose your therapist. I recommend that you use better help. For my NYC teenagers between the ages of 13-17, there is a website called talk space that offers free online therapy for NYC teens NO REFERRAL IS NEEDED. If I find more websites that offer free therapy for other teens around the world I will let you all know<3.

If you have any tips that you want to share down in the comments please do I want all of us to be happy and glowing this summer!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 32

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lloyd Hansen is a storm. You can’t stop him, you can only brace yourself for the eventual rain of his presence. For the time being, he is calm and you will let it last as long as you can. But you will keep the windows boarded and the doors shut tight.

His bruises are a pale tint of yellow though he was just as reluctant to leave the bed. You are not more eager to be awake and on your feet but you know you must. You find it harder by the day to stay active but if you slow down, the pain will catch up to you. 

So you follow him, after ten minutes of internal turmoil, strapping on your pregnancy belt over a tee and some leggings. Your usual attire as it’s the only thing that fits or offers a degree of comfort for your growing body. You smell cinnamon as you descend, leaning on the banister heavily as you take careful steps, barely able to see your feet past your stomach.

You follow your nose to the kitchen and find Lloyd in a whirlwind, but not his usual tempest. He flips a pancake in the skillet as he looks over his shoulder, a crooked grin under his mustache. He still hasn’t shaved. Is it a new look or neglect? The stubble is getting pretty long.

He wears an apron over his briefs. Nothing else. Not very safe but you don’t mind if he gets a spatter of hot oil. You almost wish you could throw some on him yourself.

“I made decaf,” he announces proudly, “and I have blueberry syrup for you, baby cakes.”

“Blueberry syrup?” You squint as you near the counter, brushing a hand over the curve of your stomach.

“That was a you thing, wasn’t it?”

“A me thing? What are we talking about?”

He uses the spatula to remove the pancakes from the pan and puts them onto a plate, covering them to keep them warm. He sets down the utensil and moves easily to pull down a mug and fills it from the carafe.

“You had some in the crappy old fridge back at the hellhole,” he shrugs, “hidden behind the ketchup.”

You bite the inside of your lip and tilt your head. How did he know that? Besides, why would he even remember that? An overpriced bottle of organic syrup that had Colin halfway down your throat.

“I guess,” you answer nonchalantly, “I don’t mind it.”

“Hm, sure,” he seems disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm, “icing sugar too, if you like.”

“I’ll just have the pancakes,” you accept the mug as he slides it over to you, “thanks.”

He faces you, watching you as you watch him. Your eyelids slit as you warily sip your coffee. His blue irises sparkle menacingly.

“Stop,” he says, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” You utter dully.

“Like I put poison in the decaf.”

You pause and pull the cup away from your lips. You give it a long look. Now that you think of it…

“I didn’t,” he huffs, “I can be nice. I’m being nice. Baby,” he puts his hands on his hips, “you gotta let go of old grudges. Once the kiddo is here, we can’t be fighting like cats and dogs. We’re going to be too tired.”

“We’re?” You scoff and carry your cup past him, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“What?”

“You. Doing anything for anyone else. That has no benefit to you.”

“I’m making you breakfast–”

“You’re getting on my good side so I don’t try to sleep on the lawn again,” you roll your eyes, “and so I don’t smack you every time you touch my ass.”

“Peaches, you’ll see, I’m taking this serious. I’m gonna dad so hard–”

“Mmhmm,” you wave him off without looking back, “and I’m gonna go water the tulips.”

“Tulips? What about breakfast?” He whines.

“It won’t take too long,” you dismiss him, “it’s nice out and I’ll forget.”

He exhales heavily, “since when do you garden?”

“There’s a lot more to me than the contents of my fridge, Lloyd,” you toss back at him as you approach the back door, “some of us have dimension.”

“What? I have–”

You don’t hear his argument. He’s about as dimensional as those pancakes. Flat. Just a mustache that talks too much. Even if he uses that mustache to your advantage. You know him. He pretends to be complicated but he’s really rather simple. Maybe his complexity is that he’s simple in more ways than one.

You balance your coffee tenuously as you go down the back steps. You near the corner of the house and unwind the long house from around the plastic wheel. Harlen installed it while he was there. You take the head with the trigger and tug it around the east wall with one hand. Your progress is slow as you try not to spill the decaf.

You stand before your little plot of blooming stems and aim the hose, pushing down as you sprinkle water over the dirt. You should do some weeding but it’s getting harder and harder to get down that low. Even before you were this big, your back could make bending, squatting, or kneeling a task.

You turn the hose head back and forth, sending an even shower across the patch. Content, you let go of the trigger and gulp back more coffee. You’re going to miss the peace you found in the garden now Lloyd is back. You were ready to let it go for the baby, but you really weren’t prepared to do so this soon.

Footsteps hit the pavement on the other side of the gate and you peek over. You narrow your eyes. You should get those checked. You recognise the figure on the other side as he stops and waves.

You let the hose hang off the iron rooster ornament sticking out of the soil and waddle to the path. You follow it down to meet Andy at the iron grate. You’re slightly confused but don’t mind wasting time.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Just out for a run,” he says, cheeks slightly tinged pink as he catches his breath, “I saw you out here and figured I’d ask.”

“Ask?”

“You know, I got some of Lori’s things still, thought maybe you might want some. I’ve been meaning to do something with them but I haven’t made up my mind.”

“Lori? Your wife?” You’re slightly taken aback. You’re not really in the market for a dead woman’s earrings.

“It’s only taking up space. I’d be happy to know they went to a good home.”

“Mm, I don’t know, there’s not much I need…” you shrug but notice the way he stares, expectant, hopeful. It might not be about the stuff, maybe just about the company. You can’t say you aren’t lacking for that as well. “Well, I guess I could have a look through, see if there’s anything I’m missing.”

“Great, I can bring a box over later,” he offers, “tonight or tomorrow, if you’re not busy.”

“I…” you glance back at the house, “we’ll have to see.”

“Yeah, you must be busy,” he wipes his glistening forehead, “getting ready for the baby. Well, you know where I am. You can always come knock on my door.”

“Thanks, Andy, that’s… very nice of you.”

You force a smile. You never really were a neighbourly person. Mostly, you’ve lived next to people even more miserable than yourself. Those who can only afford shitholes don’t typically tend to be optimistic.

“So, you didn’t say if it’s a boy or a girl. Do you know?” He prompts.

“Uh, oh,” you look down at your stomach, “a girl.”

“Wow, I always wanted a girl. Jacob was a good kid but… maybe he wouldn’t have gotten in so much trouble if he had a sibling or two.” His cheek tightens and he turns his head slightly, “Lori couldn’t, you know? She just had him. Her body just couldn’t handle any more than that.”

“I’m sorry, Andy–”

“I told you, don’t be,” he shakes his head, meeting your eyes, “I should be sorry. I try not to talk about them but I can’t help it.”

“You have every right to talk about them. We can’t help who we miss,” you assure him, “hell, sometimes I miss my ex-husband.”

“Ex? Lloyd’s–”

“Number two,” you sigh, “yeah.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s not really the type to settle for being the second choice.”

You nod. He’s right but he also has no idea about how fucked Lloyd really is.

“It’s complicated,” you say, “anyway,” you look into your nearly empty cup, “I think I should go back before breakfast gets cold.”

“Sure thing, neighbour,” he grins and for a moment, you hesitate. Beneath his thick beard, there’s an odd reminder in the cut of his jaw, you’re reminded of Lloyd’s overgrown stubble, “you need any help with that garden, let me know. I’ve got a bit of a green thumb.”

“Will do,” you say as you raise your mug awkwardly and turn on your heel, “see ya.”

You set off back towards the house. The door is open as your husband stands watching you. Even from a distance, you sense his impatience. It’s in his posture and his steady gaze. You can’t handle an argument over cold pancakes. Not with only decaf to bolster you.

[bucks-daddy-issues]

🫴 🫴 🫴 🫴

Hello! I got six anon asks for all of my wips and I'm gonna hope/assume they're all from you and put them all in one post.

Hope you enjoy, thank you!!!

😳 Down Bad Eddie (NSFW)

-

Buck is so keen, he’s smiling so big but there isn’t a trace of mocking in his tone. He’s happy, and he’s playful and he’s more radiant than the fucking sun. Eddie almost feels like he shouldn’t be looking directly at him, so beautiful he’ll make Eddie go blind.

Eddie feels dizzy, his chest is a little tight and he’s not sure if it’s for good or bad reasons. Buck is so pretty, so warm and Eddie's breath is-

“Can we- pause for a minute?” Eddie grits out, and immediately Buck steps back, hands dragging up slow until they’re on Eddie’s shoulders instead of his waist. 

“Of course, of course Eddie. You okay?” Buck says, eyes searching, as blue as the ocean in holiday brochures.

“I’m amazing, I just… this is a little overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming… good?” Buck asks, God he’s so earnest Eddie wants to shove him into a wall and bite. 

“Very, very good.” Eddie beams. “But this is a little new, could we…?”

“Slow down, yes, yeah, we should slow down. We got a lot to talk about.” Buck smiles back.

Then Buck is stepping away, moving to the kitchen to start up the coffee maker.

-

🔫 Hitman's Bodyguard AU

-

“I think we can-“ 

There’s a noise, Buck knows there must have been because his ears are ringing. There’s a noise. His face is wet. There’s blood in his mouth. Eddie is looking at him, reaching out but the whole world is encased in freezing cold, solid ice and Buck must need it to melt before he can move again. 

A red spot slowly blooms and grows on Eddie’s shoulder, red, red, red. Eddie’s hand is reaching, his eyes pleading. 

Buck can’t move. 

The moment Eddie drops to the ground Buck can move again, and he realises that that eternity watching the pain cloud out the life in Eddie’s eyes must have only been a second because he jumps for cover a moment before another bullet hits the wall he’d been leaning against. 

Eddie’s still out in the open, but whoever’s shooting doesn’t seem too concerned about finishing him off - thank god - whoever it is, they're going for Buck, they just needed Eddie out of the way. 

A bullet hits their car. Buck’s heart is beating in his skull. His throat feels like it's shut tight but somehow he’s still panting. 

Another bullet. This one nicks the gas tank, oil leaks out into the road.

Buck has seconds. One good shot and the car blows, one decent one and a fire will start. 

Behind them is a 30-foot drop into a roaring water. Buck has no idea how deep, but he knows jumping will mean either breaking his legs or going under. 

For the first time in his life, he’s praying he’ll feel water above his head. 

-

👻 Ghost hunter AU

-

“You want us to what?” Buck flinches.

“It’s just for one night Buck, it’ll be fine.” Hen says, and this time Eddie is the one who flinches, he already knows what Buck’s reaction will be.

“It’s just one night in a haunted building, Hen!” Buck yells, eyes wide in fear. “If you’re so sure no one will won’t get murdered or possessed or like- scared to death, then you do it!”

Hen smirks, “Sorry Buckaroo, I’m not the one with their face on all the merch, looks like it’s just you and Eddie braving the demons and ghosts.”

“There’s no demons!” Eddie steps in, glaring at Hen and Chimney’s smug grins. “The building has one single ghost sighting, one ghost, no demons, no poltergeists and no malicious spirits, just one friendly ghost.”

“You don’t even believe in ghosts.” Chimney remarks,

“One ghost that we know of, Eds.” Buck mumbles “What if there’s something else in there. Something hiding until it’s got us at our most vulnerable.

Buck makes himself shiver, Eddie scoots closer to drop a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to scope it out first, we’ll try everything we have to catch any paranormal activity and if you don’t want to stay after that-” Eddie sends Bobby a look, there’s no question in it, but Bobby nods anyway, “-then we wont stay, okay?”

Buck leans further into Eddie’s space, his eyes are big and scared but keeps looking at Eddie anyway, seeking comfort. “Okay” he finally agrees. “But you’re sleeping closest to the door.”

-

💍 Romcom AU

-

Buck finds Eddie by the fountain, clicking through pictures on his camera. 

“You okay?” Buck asks, sitting down next to him.

Eddie flicks his head up in surprise, somehow he must have missed Buck’s arrival. “Oh yeah.” He mumbles, looking back at his camera. On it there’s a photo of Maddie, Chimney and Jee-Yun with big, cheesy grins, it looks amazing, one to be framed. Buck can’t wait to see all the rest. “Don't let me keep you from the party, I promise I’ll be back to take more photos soon, just needed a little break.”

“Of course, take your time. I’m gonna take a break too, if that’s okay.” Buck smiles, he glances down at the rippling water in the fountain. There are no coins in it, but Buck still wants to throw one in and make a wish.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, nudging Buck with his knee.

“I asked you first,” Buck replies, nudging back.

Eddie harrumphs but after a moment he drops his shoulders and speaks “I miss my wife. Or I guess I miss this.” He gestures to the happy photo on his camera screen. “Though I’m not sure we ever had all that, can you miss something you’ve never had?”

Buck stares for a minute, maybe a little too long. “Oh yeah. All the time.” 

“You too?” Eddie asks, his smile pained.

“Well I don’t have a wife to miss, but yes, I miss what Maddie and Chimney have. I’ve never told anyone and I feel awful about it, but I’m super jealous of them.”

“Me too. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, just-“ Eddie puts the camera down, leaning forward to stare into the water. “It’s hard sometimes, to be stuck with just hope.”

Buck reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet. He finds a few coins in the bottom and hands one to Eddie. “I don’t think wishing is much better than hoping, but hey, maybe they accumulate.”

-

🥂 Hangover AU

-

“Coffee?” Bobby asks, holding out the menu. 

“Strong enough to chew please” Eddie groans, flattening his head on the cool metal of the poolside tables. It's way too warm. 

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Hen grimaces “Never say that again.” 

“Get her coffee too.” Chimney adds as Bobby gets the waiter's attention. 

“What’s the last thing anyone remembers?” Buck asks. 

“I left you guys after dinner, you were all pretty sober, maybe two or three drinks each,” Bobby says once he’s ordered Hen and Eddie espresso, Bucks stomach feels queasy at the thought of drinking that.

“Okay, I can remember dinner, then we went to that club Albert booked, it was named after some jewel, aquamarine or something?”

“The amethyst and it was a casino too.” Chimney supplies, sighing heavily. 

“I hate Vegas.” Eddie groans “We should check our bank accounts.”

“Oh, That’s a good idea! We can look at all the transactions from last night and see where we went!” Buck says just a little too loud for even his own ears, he gulps the water sitting in front of him, thank you, Bobby. 

“Right, empty your pockets too, we’re all still wearing our clothes from last night, right?” Chim adds, patting his blazer

Buck and Eddie reply in the affirmative, feeling grubby. 

“Hell no, the first thing I did was change my clothes” Hen grimaces. 

“You guys should really change,” Bobby adds, but he at least looks invested in helping, Buck can tell he’s in captain mode just by his facial expression.

“Well some of us weren’t given the chance” Eddie replies pointedly.

“Later!” Chim says “C’mon, does anyone have anything?” 

Buck searches through his pockets surveying the contents as they’re placed on the table, his phone - dead, a McDonald’s receipt, keys, wallet, Albert’s phone, a business card… 

Wait 

“Oh fuck!” Buck shouts, lifting the phone back up, “This is Al’s” 

Chimney snatches it from him “Why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“I don’t know!” 

“Why do you have a business card for a tattoo parlour a couple blocks from here?” Eddie asks, lifting the card. Buck glances at it, vaguely remembering talking to a tattoo artist as she- 

“Ah, that’s why my hip is sore.” 

-

🫴 Your Touch Is All I Need (NSFW)

-

The next day at work that tenseness comes back to haunt him. 

He should have found some time to jerk off quickly, he probably could have in the shower if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his own failure and embarrassment, but he didn’t and now the entire 24-hour shift is going about as smooth as a hacksaw.

He’s on edge and Buck must be able to tell because he’s trailing behind Eddie like a lost puppy and it’s making Eddie feel even worse. He knows Buck thinks he did something wrong, and he’s so ashamed he’s hurting Buck, but he can’t seem to look the other man in the eye. He can barely handle when they’re on the way to a call and Buck’s thigh is pressed up hard against his own. It’s Buck’s way of giving him some silent reassurance, so he nudges back and tries to train his eyes away from where that line of heat is pressing up against him. Buck’s thick thighs have been in enough of his dreams without more fodder. 

When they arrive on the scene Eddie could laugh - he won’t because that would be so rude and completely misinterpreted - but when he finds out a woman has had an unfortunate sexual incident while using a toy, somehow kicking her boyfriend in the face and causing a broken nose, well, Eddie laughs internally about how maybe the universe does scream sometimes.

Hen is helping the woman, while Eddie is looking over the man, the bleeding is nearly stopped and he should be fine once he gets to hospital, but Eddie pays him as much attention as he can so he doesn’t have to think about the vibrator sitting on the floor near his knee. 

When they finally get them sorted, the man on his way to the hospital with his girlfriend holding his hand, the team huddle back into the fire engine, and Eddie is sure they’re all thinking the same thing.

“Well… She must have been having a good time” Chim says, and that’s all it takes for them all to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Come on guys, a little more professional” Bobby says, but he’s grinning too, his face bright pink.

“Hey, I’ve been there!” Buck laughs “I think I broke the poor guy's ribs but I like to think it was worth it.” Everyone laughs again.

Wait. What the fuck.

No one is batting an eye. Buck just admitted to using a toy on himself with another man, and no one is batting an eye. 

Did they all know? Was Eddie meant to know? How did he somehow miss this? Is…is Buck gay or bi or pan or something along those lines?

Has he been openly into men this whole time?

[vizkopa]

Damned if you Do (Devil!Doflamingo x Reader) Part 4

WARNING reminder this series contains: violence, gore, strong language, sex, alcohol and religious themes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 4: Crossroads

~

“So there are 72 Lords of Hell...”

“Correct.”

“Kings being the most powerful and commanding the most legions of Hell’s army, barring Lucifer himself.”

“Yes.”

“So if this demon is a King like we suspect, only another King could compete with him in terms of power.”

Rosi paused in splashing you with a hyssop branch soaked in holy water. “What are you getting at?”

“We summon another King of Hell. That book of yours tell you how to summon them right?”

He resumed his splashing—though he had informed you this part of the ritual was technically called ‘asperges’. He proceeded to ‘asperge’ you full force in the face.

“Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous.”

“Why? The summoning ritual binds the demon to your bidding for as long as the spell lasts, right?”

With little else to do confined to the cottage, you had been making your way through the seemingly never-ending pile of Rosi’s books. Most of them were in Latin or Hebrew or something even older, but a few had translations you were able to understand.

“Yes, but if something were to go wrong…”

“You’ll be there as backup.”

Rosi moved on to the next phase of the warding, ‘anointing’. You hated how the holy oils smelled and wrinkled your nose at them. Rosi ignored your look of disgust and continued anyway, touching his oil-soaked thumb to your forehead, chest, and the tip of each shoulder.

“I’m flattered you think I would be an equal match for a King of Hell.”

“Well then, I might as well move in with you permanently at this point since apparently I can’t leave these grounds for the rest of my life.”

Rosi blushed then scowled. “We’ll find another solution.” He picked up his thurible and began to swing it while walking a slow circle around you. The sweet incense made your eyes water and your throat itch, but you resisted the urge to cough.

“Father… I can’t keep doing this.” You gestured vaguely to the oils, the holy water, the crucifixes, and the candles surrounding you. “I feel so useless. I need to do something!”

He set the thurible down again, muttering the last few lines of the warding spell before turning to you.

“All right.”

You blinked. You hadn’t expected him to agree to it so easily.

“I can see how much the inactivity is eating at you, so… I’m willing to try.”

You flung your arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

He cleared his throat and pulled away. “It will be incredibly dangerous though, [Name]. We would have to wait until these wards wear off or the summoning ritual may not work… And he might be able to find you while you’re unguarded.”

“I���ll take that risk,” you said softly.

Rosi searched your face and seemed to find the resolve he was looking for. He nodded. “Then let’s prepare.”

The next evening, the two of you took Rosi’s beat up old sedan far out into the desert until you came upon a crossroads. The sun had set hours ago and the chill of the night seeped into your very bones. The land was empty for miles around.

When your phone clock struck midnight, you walked out into the middle of the road and knelt, a piece of chalk gripped firmly in one hand, your consecrated knife in the other. The rosary hung from your chest, a pendulum ticking away the time on your soul. You paused.

“What happened if this summons him?” you asked. “We still don’t know his true name.”

“The chances are slim, but not impossible.” Rosi stood a ways back, his Bible and crucifix held close to his heart, a flashlight aimed at the spot where the two roads met. “We just have to have faith.”

How like a priest, you thought, rolling your eyes.

You carefully traced the sigil you had memorised into the road, the chalk stark white against the black. Your shadow flickered and danced as you traced the letters around the edge of the summoning circle.

B E L I A L.

You straightened, looking over your shoulder nervously at Rosi. He nodded, his fingers white where they gripped the flashlight, but the beam held steady.

You cleared your throat and chanted into the night air: “Belial! Esto subiecto voluntati meae!”

There was a moment of silence where not even the wind in the dry brush by the road made a sound, then the earth began to rumble beneath your feet.

You heard Rosi curse in a rather un-priestly manner as the flashlight flickered out. But it was only for a second. When the light was restored, a man stood before you.

Not a man.

A King of Hell.

“Why have you summoned me, human?”

Belial towered over you. Not quite as tall as your demon, but an imposing figure nonetheless. His shoulder-length dark hair was smoothed back from his forehead, and a long scar bisected his face like the grin of some deadly predator. His cruel mouth was downturned in an impatient scowl.

“I have some questions for you about a… colleague of yours. Answer them, and I’ll free you from the binding circle.”

He merely grunted, examining the nails on one hand. It was only then you realised his other arm ended in a gold hook.

You swallowed. This one certainly was a character.

“I have a contract with another King. Tall, blonde, gorgeous, et cetera. Can you tell me his name?”

He looked up at you then and grinned, his golden eyes drinking you in with interest. “You’re Asmodeus’ girl.”

You drew in a sharp breath. Asmodeus.  You had a name. After all these years. And names meant power.

“I’m not Asmodeus’ anything,” you scowled.

“Maybe not yet.”

“Maybe not ever. How do I break a contract?”

Belial chuckled, cold and cruel. “You can’t.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Only the demon who made it can break a contract.” His hooded eyes ran up the length of your body, so slowly it made you skin crawl. “And if I were him, sweetheart, I would never let you go.”

You gave him a disgusted look. “Cool it, big guy. There has to be some way. What if I made a deal with another demon?”

He was back to looking bored again. “You have nothing to bargain with. Your soul is claimed already. Even I could not override another King’s binding word.”

You cursed and glanced at your phone. The midnight hour was ticking away. You needed answers and you needed them soon, before the binding spell wore off.

“Fine,” you growled. “Then how do I kill him?”

Belial laughed, long and loud. It was a sound that silenced even the bravest of insects that had dared to chirp in the presence of a King.

“You? Kill a demon king? Oh, how I wish I had been the one to answer your summons all those years ago. I see why he likes you. You have the heart of a demon, girl.”

“Answer the fucking question.”

He shrugged. “The answer is irrelevant. Unless you happen to have a Holy artifact lying around?”

You pulled out the consecrated knife. “Like this?”

He laughed again. “That toothpick? I doubt you’d even get close enough to use it. No, it will take something far more powerful than that.” His eyes shifted to Rosi, who paled under the demon’s gaze. “Perhaps you should ask your priest about it.”

You sighed. It was clear the demon was done being helpful. “Well, I wish I could say this has been enlightening…” You made a dismissing motion with your hand. “Vade, Belial.”

Belial’s eyes narrowed. “You promised you would free me, little human,” he said.

“Yeah, well, I lied. Have fun back in Hell.”

You waved cheerfully as a look of rage crossed the demon’s face, but before he could lunge for you, there was a gust of hot, sulphurous wind and, just like that, the demon was gone, the chalk circle disintegrating into dust on the breeze.

You let out a long, slow breath. “I better hope I don’t meet him in Hell. That’ll be an awkward conversation.”

Rosi huffed a laugh. “With any luck, one you’ll never have.”

The two of you turned to walk back to the car.

“You were right. That was a waste of time.”

Rosi shook his head. “Not completely. What he said about holy artifacts, if I can—"

The desert had gone silent again.

The two of you looked up at the same time to find a figure leaned against the hood of the car.  The lenses of his red glasses glinted in the light of the torch, along with a white-toothed grin. You and Rosi both stopped in your tracks, from your own accord or the demon’s power, you could not be sure.

“Asmodeus,” you breathed.

The demon tilted his head slightly. “Someone’s been a busy little bee.” He pushed off the car and approached you, a hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your cheek. “I missed you.”

You shut down the urge to lean into his touch. “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.”

Asmodeus hummed. “Give it time. Now what could you and my old friend Belial possibly have to talk about, hm? Do I need to be jealous?”

You flinched away from his fingers as he twirled one absentmindedly in your hair. “Just wondering if he was taking applications for a Queen. Gotta keep my options open, y’know?”

The grip on your hair was suddenly vice-like, forcing you to look him in the face. His grin was gone.

“I do not take lightly to being teased, my dear,” he hissed. “If you were searching for a way out of this contract, you’d be better off propositioning Lucifer himself. And I can assure you, the Lord of the Abyss is not nearly as lenient as I am.”

The two of you glared at each other for one long moment, then he released you. “No matter. Your time is almost up. I can feel your willpower waning and I am nothing if not patient.” He finally took notice of Rosi and his grin was back, wider than before. “I remember you.”

Rosi’s lips had gone white, his whole body trembling. But it wasn’t fear you saw in his eyes, but hatred.

“You,” he hissed, seemingly too angry to form words. You had never even seen the priest raise his voice, let alone be rendered speechless by rage.

“I’m delighted you remember me, holy man. How long has it been, 20 years? A mere blink of the eye for me, of course.”

“How dare you take his form.”

You looked between the two, confused. Then it clicked. In the dim light it was hard to tell, but when you thought about it, there was a distinct resemblance between the two men—one man, one demon—before you.

“How dare you take the form of my brother!”

You stared at the two in horror. How had you not seen it before? How had you not made the connection? Standing before you was the image of Rosi’s dead brother, as if he had never been dead at all. As if he had lived to see his 30s.

Asmodeus laughed, his hands running over his chest with reverence. “I was not strong enough back then to choose my form, only able to possess those of weaker mind and body. But now I can choose any form I wish, and this form pleases me. Especially certain… assets.”

You blushed. You had seen those assets. And you hated to admit that you agreed.

“Rosi… Rosi we need to get out of here,” you pleaded. But Rosi could not—or would not—hear you.

“You killed him. You destroyed him from the inside and you left him to DIE! You vile piece of filth! You—” He seemed to struggle for words again.

The demon was clearly enjoying himself. “’You’ what? Foul beast from the pit? Putrid fiend of the ninth circle? I’ve heard them all, little priest. You can do better than that.”

But Rosi was clearly beyond insults. He raised his crucifix, forcing the demon to take a step back. Then he began chanting in Latin in the easy flow of someone who had spoken the words a thousand times before.

“Priinceps gloriosissime cælestis militiæ, sancte Michaël Archangele, defende nos in prælio et colluctatione…”

The demon hissed and took another step back. You blinked. It was the first time you had seen him balk. But it didn’t last long.

A vein pulsing at his temple, Asmodeus raised his hand, pointing one long finger at the crucifix. It burst into flames. Rosi screamed and dropped it on the tarmac, the flame extinguishing instantly on impact. He fell to his knees clutching his wrist, his hand red and blistered and smelling sickeningly of charred flesh.

You swore, making to run to the priest’s side, but the demon’s power held you in place. Bored with the priest now he now longer presented a threat, Asmodeus turned his attention to you once more.

“I hope you have not placed your faith in him, my dear. He seems woefully unequipped.”

“Fuck you.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

He only grinned. “Oh, you will.” He planted a swift kiss on your lips and then he was gone, the sounds of desert night returning in his wake.

[yingren]

“So, I don’t think I’m dying, or anything, and it’s probably not that serious, but… I’m kinda bleeding. A lot.” / aventurine vc lemme hide out here and bleed on u

HURT / COMFORT : STARTERS / accepting.

cryptic, subdued, and undeniably strange - that’s the only way ren can sum up his last exchange with aventurine. a few messages traded back and forth, vague enough to raise questions, before a location pin was abruptly sent. less than thirty minutes later, aventurine appeared, looking more disheveled than ren ever thought possible. to say ren was caught off guard would be putting it lightly. aventurine isn’t exactly predictable, and ren has learned to expect the unexpected when it comes to him. yet this? this was something else entirely, so far out of the realm of what ren might have anticipated that it momentarily left him at a loss. 

a damp cloth presses against the edges of an open wound, trying to clean around the jagged tear obscured by the blood pooling and staining the surrounding skin. the process had been almost instinctive, the hunter moving quickly and efficiently as though they’d done this a hundred times before. without hesitation, he had led aventurine to the couch, eased him down, and sternly instructed him to stay still.  though injuries are far from rare in ren’s experience, he’s tended to far worse without so much as flinching, something about this particular moment sets his nerves on edge. his stomach churns uncomfortably, coiling tighter with each passing second, making every movement he makes feel slow and stilted, as if bound by invisible tension.

somewhere amidst the process of getting aventurine to sit down, the man began weaving together an explanation, a rambling narrative that ren has no desire to hear. the words spill from aventurine’s lips like oil on water, unwanted and infuriating, each syllable prodding at ren’s already frayed nerves. there’s a heat rising in him, simmering just below the surface, and though he can’t pinpoint the precise reason for his agitation, the fire burns brightly in his crimson eyes, betraying the calm demeanor he struggles to maintain.  

his actions still remain steady, deliberate, and uncharacteristically careful as he tends to aventurine’s wounds, every motion executed with meticulous precision. yet his composure is a fragile veneer - his clenched jaw and tense shoulders reveal the storm brewing within. aventurine’s words, each one spoken with that familiar, almost melodic cadence that ren might normally find tolerable, even pleasant, now serve only to stoke the flames of his irritation.  

ordinarily, ren could appreciate the man’s knack for weaving charm into his voice, the way it lingers like a tune that’s impossible to forget. but now, that very quality feels like an insult, a deliberate test of his patience. every sentence, every attempt to explain or justify, feels like another deliberate poke, daring ren to snap, to silence him outright. and while he hasn’t yet given in to the urge, the temptation looms, an ever-present shadow in the back of his mind.

“ quiet. be quiet. ” the cloth in his hand is tossed aside once the worst of the bleeding has been dealt with, replaced by the familiar roll of bandages he typically reserves for himself. a staple of his existence, so intertwined with his image that ren doubts anyone could describe him without mentioning them, now being used to mend someone else. the irony isn’t lost on him, and the sinking realization that this might not help at all weighs heavy in the back of his mind.  

in silence, he repeats a process he’s perfected over countless years, as if the rote steps will anchor him: stop the bleeding, clean the wound, apply antibiotic ointment, cover the wound, wrap it tightly. step by step. over & over. his hands, which have always felt like a cruel joke compared to what they used to be, seem even less capable now. they tremble with a frustration he refuses to acknowledge, going through the motions with mechanical precision, even as his energy falters.  

“ where have you been ? ” the questioning begins, as if he wouldn’t have the answers he’s looking for if he had let aventurine explain. “ what did you get yourself into this time — no, who did this to you ? ” gaze does its best to avert from the chaos, to find something else to look at, but he inevitably fails - stuck in place as he kneels on the ground before the couch, one hand still resting on top of aventurine’s leg. 

these things aren’t supposed to happen, not to the people he holds in some unspoken regard. it’s a naïve hope, really, this belief that certain people in his life would remain untouched by moments like this. for some reason, aventurine had fallen into that category, a rare, fleeting solace ren allowed himself to indulge in. aventurine was someone ren sought out when he needed a reprieve, a moment of light amidst the unrelenting dark, a rare calm in the chaos of his existence. that ren had miscalculated & misplaced him in that fragile sanctuary of safety, feels like a bitter betrayal of his own instincts.  

it’ll haunt him later - this moment, this misstep. ren knows it. the sharp edges of it will gnaw at him, jagged puzzle pieces forcing themselves into places where they don’t belong. already, distress festers beneath the surface, a parasite feeding on his nerves, chewing away at whatever composure he has left. the guilt is relentless, and it will burrow deeper long after this moment has passed, a wound all its own that no bandage will ever mend. he should have known better. how could he? he should have known that even aventurine is not untouchable by the agony in this world.

“ you look like shit, ” calmer, still irritable, but certainly more grounded. “ can you walk ? i’m not carrying you to bed. ”

[penandswords]

Rima Origins Part 1

Rimas Age: 14

_____________________

‘Those without quirks, were beneath those with quirks.’ That was the close minded mentality Rima was born into. Her mother preached it to her, who had it preached to her by her own mother, and as did HER mothers MOTHER with her mother.

‘Don’t associate with them.’ Her mother, and grandmother preached. Again and again.

Rima obeyed. She didn’t know any better.

Her entire life was spent only ever surrounding her with family within their tiny home town. Cousins, Aunts, Uncles. There were a HAND full of individuals who were not OF the family, but so long as they minded their own business it was never really an issue.

The kids in those families always seemed to have a much SOFTER look than the ones in Rima’s. She wondered what kind of lives they lived beyond their school years.

Did they have parents constantly breathing down their necks about perfection this or perfection that? She could still remember the Envy she felt picturing what those families might have been like.

Free to do what they wanted. Free to not Worry about Image this, or Image that.

She never ONCE questioned her family’s teachings. Children were supposed to TRUST the people who raised them. She was no different. 

And then Alicia showed up.

Her arrival into the school was an exciting time for everyone. Not only were Transfers rare, Foreigners were even MORE rare to witness.

Excitement traveled through the class of 14 year olds like a wildfire, blazing through the night. Question after question was thrown at the new student, and the Teacher could do little to slow them down.

When it was time for Alicia to pick her seat. Her and Rima’s eyes met for only a few seconds. The energy between them mixed like Oil and Water.

She remembered huffing… She remembered the way Alicia strolled over with a sweet smile.

“So you’re an Endeavor fan huh?” Rima once again eyed the girl as she pointed to the Endeavor drawing that sat in her notebook. Her arm instinctively moved to cover it.

Little to Rima’s surprise, she pulled out a keychain.

“I’m a Gang Orca fan myself, but Endeavor is cool too…. Ohhh and you like to DRAW. I like to draw TOO.” Alicia’s hand shot to her bag eagerly showing her own notebook. The front FULL of stickers with Hero themed stickers.

That was the very beginning of their unplanned friendship, and the end to Rima’s naive family beliefs.

They spent their first year together drawing in class, and talking about their favorite heroes. Though a little resistant in the beginning, Rima grew to see her as the person she was, and NOT what she lacked.

Alicia was strong Alicia was Kind

And she NEEDED to be protected.

[self-shippy]

Selfship-tober Day 8: Terror

Content warning for a description of a dead body! Prompt made by @sennamybeloved

“Hey, Lora?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you man the fry station for a bit? I have to go to the bathroom.”

Lora nodded. “Do what you need to, Dee. I’ve got you covered.”

“You’re the best!” Dee patted Lora’s back, then ran off.

Lora sighed. I told her I could handle it, but now I have to worry about fries and taking orders… I don’t get paid enough for this.

As if on queue, Lora heard a customer pop into the restaurant. She groaned before putting on a faux smile. “Welcome to Donald’s Burgers!” she said with an obnoxious amount of cheeriness. “What can I…”

Lora’s thoughts trailed off as soon as she saw who the new customers were: none other than Phoenix and Maya.

“Phoenix!” Lora shouted. She ran up and clung to her boyfriend’s neck, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Birdie!” Phoenix laughed. He wrapped his arms around Lora’s waist and pulled her close. “Didn’t expect to see me here, huh?”

Lora shook her head, then looked up. “It was a very pleasant surprise. I’m guessing Maya convinced you to come over?”

Phoenix gave Lora a sheepish grin. “You could say that.”

“He didn’t want to go out at first, but when I mentioned the place you worked, he agreed almost immediately!” Maya said.

Lora gave Phoenix a quick kiss. “I didn’t know I had that sort of control over you,” she said with a shifty smile.

Phoenix let out a nervous laugh.

Lora sighed. “Well, I guess I should get back to work.” She walked behind the counter. “What would you two like to eat?”

“Hey!” a voice shouted from the kitchen. “Who’s in charge of the fry pit?”

Lora gulped. “I’ll be right back,” she said with a smile, and ran off to the kitchen.

When Lora reached the fry pit, she saw what was wrong: one of the vats had been boiling, and boiling, and boiling, to the point that oil had spilled all over the floor. She gasped. “I am so sorry!” She said. “I was taking a customer’s order, and I completely forgot that I told Dee I’d handle it!”

The manager looked at Lora with a glare. “If you can’t multitask, then you shouldn’t have joined our team,” he said. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, but keep that in mind. Now clean this mess up before it gets worse.”

“Yes, sir,” Lora said with slumped shoulders. She went over to the nearest closet to grab a mop, but she noticed something odd. She had accidentally stepped in a red liquid oozing out from underneath the door’s gap. She took a step back, and could tell that whatever it was didn’t move like water moved. A pit was forming in her stomach. She took a shaky breath, and slowly opened the door.

From the lobby, Phoenix and Maya heard a shriek. Phoenix immediately knew the voice was Lora’s and, before he could think, ran into the kitchen.

“Nick!” Maya shouted. “Where are you going?”

Phoenix turned back. “You just stay here, Maya!” he said. “It could be nasty!” With that, he turned back and went deeper into the kitchen. Eventually, he found a crowd gathered around a closet door.

“Lora!” Phoenix shouted. “Lora, are you there?” He pushed through the crowd gathered around to find Lora sitting on the floor. She was physically unharmed, but had a terror-stricken face. Following her gaze, Phoenix met eyes with a dead body, just a few feet away from Lora. Despite the terrible circumstances, Phoenix couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

“Everyone, get away!” the manager shouted. “We’re closing this place up for the day!” The crowd slowly dissipated, leaving Lora, still paralyzed and staring at the body, and Phoenix, trying to get her attention.

“Lora! Lo-ra!” The manager waved his hands in front of her face. Lora still didn’t move. The manager sighed, and sat directly in front of her, firmly placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Lora, you need to step away from the dead body. Looking at it won’t do you any good. I need to call the police, but I need to make sure that you’re okay first.”

Lora’s gaze finally fell upon her manager, and she slowly nodded.

“Good. Now, go into the lobby and compose yourself. The police will ask you questions when they arrive, and I want you to be able to answer them.” He looked up at Phoenix. “I assume you know Miss Wing?”

Phoenix nodded. “We’re dating.”

The manager looked back down. “Just go with your boyfriend, Lora,” he said. “He’ll help you feel better.”

Lora slowly nodded again, and her eyes fell on Phoenix.

“Come on, Birdie,” Phoenix cooed. “Let’s get out of the kitchen. You’ll calm down better that way.” He extended his arm towards her, and she grabbed it, so lightly that Phoenix could barely feel it. He pulled her up, and led her to the seats that Maya had gotten.

“What happened?” Maya asked. “Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone except for the dead person in the closet,” Phoenix sighed. “Poor Lora was the one who found it.” He rubbed Lora’s back as she continued trying to zone back in.

“Hey, why’s everyone out here?” Dee had suddenly emerged from the bathroom. “What’s going on?”

Lora finally turned her head at a normal speed to look at her friend, and tears finally broke. “Dee, I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I didn’t take care of the fries!” She ran to her friend and hugged her tightly.

Dee gave Lora a worried look. “What do you mean? Was there a disaster in the kitchen because of the fry pit?”

“It was because Lora found a dead body,” the manager said. “I called the police already. Lora’s just going through some shock.”

Dee sighed with relief. “So it’s not your fault,” she said. “Thank goodness.”

Lora continued crying into her friend’s shoulder until the police arrived. From there, everyone was separated from each other and questioned on the events.

“Hey, pal, long time no see!” Gumshoe said to Lora. She solemnly hummed in reply. “Now, I know this’ll be hard, what with you still shocked from it and all, but I’m gonna ask a few questions about what you saw.”

At least Gumshoe’s understanding, Phoenix thought to himself. I’d hate for Lora to be stuck with someone stern while she’s like this.

“Hey! You! Are you even listening?” The cop questioning Phoenix waved his hands in front of his eyes.

Phoenix blinked furiously, then turned back to the cop. “Yes, sir,” he grumbled. I’m glad she’s not stuck with this guy.

Suddenly, another scream was let out in the restaurant. This time, it was from Dee. She was being handcuffed and taken away.

“No, I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me! You’ve gotta believe me!”

Lora jumped up from her seat, running as far as she could before Gumshoe held her back.

“Dee!” she shouted. “Deeeeee!”