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[wereh0gz]

Kinda wanna make one of those x character daily blogs for the werehog.....

[enid-rhees]

Omg, yk the sex pollen trope? Well, Enid and reader are out in the woods and stumble across a special plant and they decide to go check it out. When they bend down to touch it, it sprays onto them or something, infecting them. Not immediately ofc. At first they're both just shocked/surprised, looking at eachother and start giggling. Deciding it's no biggie, they then head back to their place at Alexandria.

They sit down together in readers or Enid's room, reading comics or doodling together, talking a bit. Then slowly they both notice they feel the symptoms of the plant... (increased heart rate, blood pressure, respiration. Their skin will appear flushed and pupils dilated. There will be an increased blood flow to genitals and decreased inhibition.)...

And ofc, you my love, take it from there <333!

Btw, Enid and reader are "just friends", but everyone in Alexandria knows they like eachother. They're both just too nervous to admit their feelings. But they're always hanging out with eachother. Reading comics, drawing, gossiping, going on runs and getting eachother cute jewelry/clothes/office stationary/etc. Whatever they can find for eachother when they have the chance really!

Anyway, I hope this makes sense, and I hope you write this because I just know it's gonna be absolutely amazing!! Ily, take care boo 💋❤️✨

hi hi !! tysm for another request :)) i am familiar with the sex pollen trope so i’m a bit confident that i can do this? i have never written actual smut before so this is 100% like an experiment for me and maybe i will start writing more of it if this story turns out well :)

warnings: SMUT. MINORS DNI. it’s literal smut. fingering, eating out, bit of scissoring like you get the idea.

the air was cold today, but you preferred it that way anyways. you had already spent majority of your time out in the woods with Enid, walking around looking around for nothing in particular.

neither of you had been this deep into the woods before, though. it was an unfamiliar area, but you both still knew how to get back home without getting lost.

as you looked around the area, Enid stopped, leaning down to look at something. “Y/N, come here!” she exclaimed. you turned around at her voice, walking over to her.

“have you ever seen this thing before?” she asked you. you kneeled down next to her, getting a closer look at the plant she noticed. you slowly shook your head, “i’ve never seen that before. do you know what it is?”

“no,” she said, shaking her head as well. “it’s kinda cool looking, though.” she added. out of curiosity, Enid reached her hand out, lightly touching it.

“doesn’t seem to be poisonous or anything.” she observed. after she said that, the plant released a small burst of mysterious liquid, landing on both of you. you flinched, looking down at your hand.

“…are you sure?” you asked her. Enid nodded, “yeah, it would’ve started to burn or itch if it was. it’s harmless. i’m just surprised i’ve never seen it before.”

you looked up at the sky, noticing that the sun was starting to set. your worries began to grew from this plant, but Enid didn’t seem to be worried at all.

“lets head back,” you told her. “it’s getting dark.” Enid stood back up, brushing dirt off of her jeans. you two started to go back the way you came from in the woods, keeping an eye out for the large gate that would soon come into view.

when you made it back, you followed her to her house instead of yours. you couldn’t remember the last time you two hadn’t spent the night together, it was a daily routine that hasn’t been broken in over a year.

you set your bag down next to her bed as she started to look for movies for you two to watch tonight. “anything good?” you asked.

she shrugged, “not really. we’ve seen almost all of these already. we need to start finding more next time we go out.” you pouted slightly, leaning back against her headboard.

“we’ve officially hung out too much.” you said, causing Enid to laugh out loud. “you’re right. that’s totally the reason.”

“if you want, we could just rewatch one. i don’t mind.” you told her. Enid started to look through the box of movies again, “nah, kinda tired of these ones.”

you sat back up, moving closer to her on the bed. “well, is there anything else you’d like to do?” your hand briefly brushed over hers, and you suddenly started to feel your heart race.

without warning, your face felt hot, and there was a new feeling in between your legs. you looked over at Enid, who’s face was red and her pupils were beyond dilated.

“Enid..?” you asked hesitantly. “that plant…” you whispered. she turned to you, and the feeling between your legs intensified. you squeezed your thighs together, trying to ease that feeling.

your breathing had began to fasten, your chest rising and falling quickly.

without another spoken word between you two, both of you leaned forward, connecting your lips in a needy and messy kiss. a whimper escaped your lips against hers.

her hands wandered all over your body, stopping at the button of your jeans. she started to unbutton them, hurriedly pulling them down your legs.

Enid pushed you back onto the bed, slipping off your shirt as well. she attached her lips to your neck, sucking marks into various places. you couldn’t help the moans that left your lips.

her hand trailed down your body, fingers resting against your clothed clit. your body jolted at the small affection. “Enid,” you breathed out. “please..”

Enid slipped her hand under your underwear, softly and slowly rubbing circles on your clit. a loud moan from you filled the room, your hips thrusting up against her hand, trying to get more friction.

your mind was racing a million miles an hour, unable to process this. you had dreamt of similar situations so many times, and it finally came true.

she removed her hand, making you whine at the loss of contact. Enid moved so she was hovering over you, placing her thighs on either side of yours.

“Enid- i need you, please.” you whined. you couldn’t find yourself to be embarrassed for how needy you were, too far lost in the moment. “i know, sweetheart.” she whispered.

she moved farther down your body, leaning her down. slowly, she slipped off your underwear, throwing it across the room, not caring where it landed.

as she got lower, Enid lifted your legs, placing them over her shoulders. her hands gripped the flesh of your thighs. “do you want this?” she asked, eyes glistening with lust and need.

“i want you, Enid. need you,” she didn’t need any more confirmation before attaching her lips to your clit. your head fell back into her pillow, uncontrollable moans coming out every few seconds.

her fingers replaced her lips as you suddenly felt her tongue on you, lapping up every last bit you had. if someone could hear you right now, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to care. the pleasure was overwhelming. her tongue skillfully plunged in and out of you, her fingers going an impossible speed on your clit.

you gasped, “Enid- i’m- i’m close,” with that new knowledge, Enid pulled away, removing herself from you completely. you whined again.

Enid hovered over your body again, and you reached up, pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it across the room. she took off her shorts and underwear, and didn’t waste another second reconnecting your lips.

you reached down, teasing your fingers on her clit. she moaned, and you swore it was the most heavenly sound you would ever hear. you moved your fingers down further, hovering your fingers over her entrance. “please,” she whispered against your lips. a smirk tugged at your lips as you entered two fingers, slowly pumping them in and out. “faster, Y/N- please,” she begged.

you decided to listen to her, pumping your fingers at a fast pace, and she started to release the most beautiful sounds you’ve heard. your thumb reached up, messily toying with her clit.

“more…please.” she whispered again. you entered a third finger, and she released the loudest moan so far.

she started to rut her hips against your fingers, moaning uncontrollably as she did so. you could tell she was close by the way her breathing became jagged and you removed your fingers, causing her to whine.

you smirked up at her above you, “you didn’t let me come, but you expected me to let you?” you asked with a teasing grin.

“shut up,” she grunted, moving her hips down. your clits brushed over each other, causing both of you to moan.

“do that again,” you told her. she lowered her hips again, pressing them down on yours. your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure that consumed you.

Enid started to move her hips back and forth on you, gripping your hand to keep her steady above you. you lifted your hips, meeting her rhythm.

both of your moans filled the room, and you couldn’t bring yourself to even a little bit to stay quiet. the pleasure was overwhelming and neither of you wanted to stop.

the pace of her hips started to falter, and you felt the deep feeling building up inside you. both of you were close.

“Enid- i’m gonna- i’m-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence as your orgasm hit you like a truck, a loud scream coming from you. Enid didn’t stop her movements as she came, moaning out your name. she continued to lazily thrust against you, riding out both of your orgasms.

she fell against you, her body going limp. your lips connected in a weak, but messy kiss, both of you completely fucked out.

“you did so good.” she whispered against your lips, “so good for me.” you brushed the hair that stuck to her face behind her ears, looking directly into her eyes.

“i love you,” you whispered. you were in such a haze, it just slipped from your lips like it was nothing. Enid smiled, “i love you, too. always have.”

she connected your lips briefly again before you pulled away, “can we go find that plant again?”

[oh-shtars]

RFTS!AU AskBox #4

Me to @signed-sapphire for the legendary number of 50 Questions Galore they sent me:

Heads up though, you might notice there’s certain questions skipped. I’m either not able to answer some of the asks at all OR they’re either some art requests that I haven’t finished and will post in future posts. So I had to skip them for this post unfortunately…. I apologise as such. 😅

Anyways, let’s get speeding through them shall we?

1. How do you plan to show the songs?

It should be question 6 of this post here. :)

……

2. How many songs do you plan to have in RFTS?

4 or more. Depends on what I come up with.

……..

3. What ‘vibe’ would each song have?

Uhhhhhhh, idk tbh. I’m really just going with the flow of what this story brings me. You can’t wait to see what the RFTS!plot has in store? Yeah, me too.

……..

4. Who’s voicing Valentino and the main cast?

For Valentino, I’m not sure. I’m debating whether it should be younger Bambi or Ronno’s VA. But he basically has an actual kid’s voice this time rather than a deep-sounding one. (Because honestly, I found that a bit weird personally). For the the other characters, I don’t really mind the voices they have canonically.

And I think I’ve mentioned this before, but even though Sueño can’t speak, I could hear him singing this in this voice hypothetically.

………..

5. Write or draw any cute interaction between Ashueño!

Mk :3

………

6. I know Asha will have a different outfit by the end, but do you have different designs for anyone else?

Yeah, I do actually. Some characters have a different outfit to better reflect their current context. (Like how Sakina would have work clothes similar to Asha.) But I don’t want to reveal most of them at the moment since I would like to keep them a secret for now.

……

7. Some Gabo doodles, if you don’t mind. I rarely see the short king in any Wish Art.

Fiiiiine.

His design makes a lot more sense if you were me and you knew the context. Take this art with whatever theories you guys can throw at me 😂

……. 10. What made Amaya fall in love with Magnifico? What changed?

Amaya had a family who greatly discouraged her interest in studying magic and potions since it’s against what their family has done for generations. Meanwhile, Magnifico who was adopted as Rosas’ prince, is expected to learn magic but COULDN’T because he struggles to do so since he hasn’t moved on from his trauma.

When these guys were around 16-15 years old, they were mutual best friends. Mag offers Amaya to read from his magic books while he finds comfort in just having a genuine friend who doesn’t remind or push expectations onto him that he hears everyday in the castle. She’s like an escape from the stresses he has in there.

In their future years, Amaya grew to fall in love with someone who promised her the world if she only asked for it. She finds bits of herself in Mag, as both were people with crushed dreams that deserve better. (In their POV anyway.)

Falling in love was not at all what she expected since she used to believe sympathy would only hold her back from exploring the limits of magic. But you know, Amaya’s as much as a tragic character as Magnifico is.

…….

11. Who fell first and who fell harder between those two?

Is it possible to say that RFTS!Magnifico is both?

……..

12. Any fun fact about the Royal Couple? (You can tell who I’m most invested in. lol.)

The only reason Espino, the royal cat, is in the castle is because Amaya wanted him around. Otherwise, if it were up to Mag, that cat is out to the streets. He’s not very fond of animals and he considers them as pests. Though, Espino gets small bonus points from Magnifico just because he keeps the castle clear from mice which he especially hates.

(Good to know you’re enjoying ‘Grand Despair’ while it lasts :)

……

13. This may be weird but…Body Swap! How would Hopes and Dreams react?

Asha would have zero idea how to get star magic under control. Meanwhile, Sueño finds an interesting realisation.

……..

14. What’s your favourite fanart piece of your AU?

I LOVE all of them so much!! They’re all made by very amazing artists!! I’m so happy to see these silly characters I’ve made be brought to life in someone else’s style. 💖💖

Mere words can’t express this joy enough. I hope you all would love the final chapters once they do come out as much as you loved seeing content of them now. X3

……..

15. Are you telling your story via writing or art of word dump?

I’m planning to share it in chapters like how Anny and everyone else has been doing. Plus some more sketches I would keep making of them obviously.

………

17. Draw Ashueño dressed as another Disney couple!

Hehehehehe guess whooo~ 🙃

………

19. Young!Sueño!

Which one? 🙃

Awww, good times back then when the little guy is still figuring out the forms he likes….

…… 20. Young!Royal Couple!

Mini Magnifico would rather drown himself or drink snake venom than call Oliver his dad- ………

22. Give some more lore on Asha’s father. Are you keeping him as close to the source material as possible? Will we see him in flashbacks or something?

You’ll definitely get to see Tomás at certain points in the story. Either in the short prologue, mentions and flashbacks. He’s generally a friendly guy but at the same time, is also assertive to defend what he thinks is wrong. But even though his life was cut short, Tomás ended up inspiring more people than he thinks. Especially his old friend, Sabino, who hasn’t given another wish or attended any more wish ceremonies after his death.

I don’t think we really knew much about Asha’s father at all in the canon movie, but I’ll pretty much be close to what is depicted there already with some more detail on how he made an influence in the lives of those he loves.

………

23. Give Sueño a stuffed toy for him to cuddle with. He deserves it <3

He adores it so much 💖💖

……….

24. More lore about the Astral Realm!

Not all Wishing Stars have the strong desire to venture down into the human realm someday and that’s completely fine. They can still guide their wishmaker from above. But for those who do want to, they need to answer one important question first:

“Why do you grant wishes?”

Since they would be going down to earth by themselves ALONE with none of their elders to guide them this time, their answer to this question serves as their anchor in case they get lost or distracted. Answers do vary and some may be the same among stars, but that’s fine. As long as they’re sincere with all their core on their answer. Some examples may be: “I like to see them reach their very best and reap their deserved rewards.” Or “I like watching them journey and discover themselves.”

……….

25. SNEAK PEAKS!!

This scene is one of my dotpoints I came up with but I’m not so sure anymore if that would still fit in and whether I should scrap it. Regardless, I thought this would be a nice little thing to show you all. Proof that I’m indeed working on it 😅

(Actually, this sounds so cute to draw. Feel welcome to try and do so if you want to, my fellow artists ^^)

…… 26. How does Magnifico’s magic work?

I made a whole post on this :3

………

27. Where did Amaya learn potions?

She’s self-taught mostly. But I also did mention that Mag generously lets her borrow what is meant to be his books of magic soooo, he played a role on that as well.

……

29. What’s Amaya’s opinion on the other Wish AU Mags?

I’m not exactly sure how different her opinions would be on each of them since I think we all decided to have our fun with Magnifico just being a shameless show-off and fun evil villain. I’ll try though.

Amaya would think KOW!Mag reminds her a lot of her own husband, also short-tempered and a disgustingly sweet romantic at times. She’s kind of a play-hard-to-get girl though 😂. One thing she does notice is that what WRTS!, Wish Granted! And KOW!Mag have in common is how loud they are with their ceremonies. Is that a universal Magnifico thing? Eh. There sure is a lot of interesting knowledge to learn from these universes. Hmmm.

TKoRaT!Maggy has that same pained look that falls on RFTS!Mag whenever he’s sulking by himself and needs time alone. Usually it’s because of his old village trauma. It’s an intriguing but ever so familiar cycle she recognises well.

Meanwhile. TFS!Mag is……different, she would say. Not exactly good different. I kinda imagine her eyeing this guy like a cat. This Mag just gives off a very different vibe of non-ruthlessness(?) that she’s not used to.

……..

30. Same for Mag, but vice versa.

RFTS!Mag gets very very very familiar vibes with KOW! And Wish Granted!Amaya. He finds it slightly amusing since it feels like his wife just became a part of some triplets. (He jokingly asked RFTS!Amaya if she had any sisters she never told him. The woman wasn’t amused. She doesn’t really like being reminded of her family.) I’m sorry TKoRaT! And TFS!Amaya, but you’ve made the decision to adopt Asha as your daughter and so he thinks lower of you now. Although…the TKoRaT!couple might just get to redeem themselves for that since they sound interesting enough. They’re going to have the ditch the girl though at some point.

WRTS!Amaya just feels off. He doesn’t know what exactly though? Is he losing his mind or something? Ugh, I think he could use devouring another Wish Bubble just in case…

……..

31. You know what, for Asha and Sueño too!

Oh boy, here we go. 😂

Asha will NOT be able to handle Wish Granted!Star’s energy. It’s so different from the silent but still lively conversations she has with her Starboy. Star just can’t bring himself to stop talking, can he? 😅 Asha thinks WRTS!Aster and TKoRaT!Star are adorable. Cielo may be a bit much at times with his light teasing and flirting, but she’s aware he means well.

I could see Asha’s non-hesitant empathy, patience and genuine concern to Haedus would be a huge comfort for the poor guy. (Trust me, she’s done this plenty before.) She’s a bit surprised to see Naos and Nembus but I think they’d get along just fine. She’s pretty good with playing with kids from her experience with a mischievous Valentino. And lastly, KOW!Aster is a total sweetheart that she jokingly comments could rival Sueño’s. (That comment caught Sueño’s attention quickly lmao.)

MEANWHILE:

Sueño is more hesitant and unwilling at first to approach humans by his own accord. He’ll still keep a short distance buuuut… if they’re just another version of Asha, it can’t be that horrible, right?

KOW!Asha’s drawings are a familiar sight for him and he’s impressed that she could bring her own drawings to life. Same goes for WRTS!Asha with her magic wand. Maybe they’re friendly… Maybe they could both do that together :D He’s neutral with Wish Granted! And Aled’s Asha for now until he gets to know them better.

Sueño recognises that same shyness and timid nature in TKoRaT!Asha. (It’s weird how she does the same thing RFTS!Asha does of turning their head away and hiding behind their hair when he innocently just looks her way.)

And then there’s…….HER. TFS!Asha. Cielo talks about her a lot….😬. But you know, that girl scares him.

Unfortunately, Sueño is staying a relatively farther distance away from the last two Ashas I mentioned. Why? Idk, probably the fact that they’re the daughter of Mag and Amaya-

……….

32. *Gives Sueño an iPad with Duolingo on it* Here my child. Learn Spanish.

I have a feeling you did this so he could finally find out what his name, ‘Sueño’ translates into. Lol, nope. Not yet he’s not.

He still appreciates the gesture though, but the guy got distracted by the other cool features and apps this weird magical mirror-tablet thing(?) had and completely forgot all about the Owl app.

……

33. Will Asha ever attempt to learn Celestial? Maybe with a candle? Like Morse Code? Idk.

Idk. Speaking Celestial is really just stars exchanging screechy sound waves to each other telepathically like words, while their glowing sequences indicates the mood and tone of what they’re saying. Maybe if Asha comes to learn how to harness light magic on her own, she’ll be able to at least convey emotions such as happiness in it by controlling the brightness and duration of each flash.

…….

35. How are you planning out your story?

I usually think of what main message I’m trying to get across first and build the story around it. After some character and world-building stuff (that I keep adding to because procrastination), I put the key scenes I could think of in bullet-point format and then just think up some in-between scenes that could occur between those points.

Usually though, the most usual process is that a random concept/idea pops into my head and then I immediately type it down so I won’t forget it. It’s basically my thing now to organise the giant mess of reminders into comprehensive plot lines.

I’m not writing the story at this point. The story is choosing to expose itself to me XD

Another main thing I do is listen to my Spotify playlist of this AU, read the Wish Artbook, or rewatch a movie that has inspired the RFTS! plot in some way.

……..

36. Are there any kisses in your story?

Hmmmmm….. *glances at Ashueño and Amnifico*

Oh well, since you’ve asked me, I gueeeeess I’m unfortunately now going to have to remove all the kisses I had included since y’all are so desperate to know….. (/jk)

……..

38. Will the Royal Couple have villain transformations?

………..

39. What’s your take on the ‘eating wishes’ thing?

As I’ve mentioned in my last post on how the magic system works in the RFTS!AU, Magnifico eats wish essence to reverse the costly effects of using Curse Magic. To put it simply, he uses them to make him more mentally stable.

.,,,,,,,,

40. What Easter Eggs are you planning to put in your story?

Awwwww, where’s the fun in that? Find them yourselves >:)))

And who knows? Maybe certain fellow creators in the Wish Rewrite Fandom will make a reference in some of the chapters. Keep an eye out 😉

……..

42. What exactly does Asha’s job entail?

Being a king’s apprentice is a way to gain experience and learn how to use magic by the king himself, so you could use the attained knowledge as to however you want. Share the talent with Rosas or Go out into the world.

However, when Magnifico’s reign started, he forbade magic usage other than he and his wife with the claim that it’s for the greater good and safety for Rosas. (He kinda had a point since criminal activity and accidents did decrease in number after that rule.)

Since Mag doesn’t really need an apprentice, Asha is more of an assistant now, following in her dad’s footsteps before her. She’s tasked to do help with whatever Mag might need around his study such as keep the fire going or organise his papers. But Mag doesn’t really like having her around a lot, (since she asks a lot of questions about his wish-keeping system) so he purposefully tells her to go carry out outside tasks such as go into the garden and help the gardeners or something.

……..

43. Did Magnifico make Sueño’s bonds?

If I told you, would that make you more blood-thirsty enough to gather pitchforks and torches for his head? Because if you are, please don’t. I still need this guy to stir up conflict in my story :((

(You can have him all you want though once I’m done with him. Lmao.)

………

44. How was Rosas founded?

Nearly a century ago, the kingdom was first built. I’ve read in the Art book that Rosas was apparently named to reference ‘Beauty and the Beast.’

Like, ok….?

Anyways, I found that roses are meant to represent love, rebirth and beauty. So I decided to add more onto that than just have it as another reference. The kingdom’s founders wanted Rosas to be a place where people who are wary and feel outcasted by their homes can find and start a new beginning. To ‘Rebirth’ and have a second chance to find the ‘beauty and love’ in their lives again,

Blue and white were made the royal colours because the blue was meant to stand for trust and reliability and white for new beginnings. Symbolising the past kings and queens’ responsibility to have their talents in sorcery be used to serve the people who come here. Thus, Rosas’ citizens all are in a variety of different cultures.

……..

45. Over how many days does your story take?

I’m thinking within one month. It’s a race-against-time sort of thing where Asha needs to find out how to confront the Royal Couple before they do something horrible on Rosas’ celebration of its 100th anniversary, which is literally just a month away.

…….

46. What was your favourite part of Wish? Are you translating that to your AU?

I really really loved how Mag’s magic looked and how he went all evil-ish green as a tribute to past Disney villains. If we ignore the awkward transition he had from sympathetic to just plain psychotic, it’s a cool magic display. I kinda wished they went more full out on the final battle because it just felt so underwhelming asf.

I’m keeping the magical final battle but with more magical funsies. :D

…….

47. Least favourite part?

I’m frustrated how bland and empty the character interactions and emotional beats are since those kinds of moments are usually my favourite when it comes to movies.

Magnifico’s tragic loss of his village? “Pfft- What tragedy? We don’t need that in the movie’s 2nd half.”

Asha’s dead father? “Eh. We only needed him for a few mins and he’s non-existent from that point on.”

Valentino claims to be Asha’s helpful animal sidekick. “Did I mention I have a deep voice? Oh, and my butt’s a funny thing too. Did I already mention that my voice is loud and soooo deep??”

Simon’s betrayal? “Oh wow, that was a shock…. Anyways, wanna start a rebellion?”

OMG, Sakina’s wish is back!! “What was the wish about? Idk who cares.”

Asha’s friendship with Star doesn’t even feel that special to me?? GUYS, I felt more chemistry between Rapunzel and Pascal. COME ON, BUILD IT UP. DON’T JUST SAY ‘Awww, you and I are thinking the same thing~’ AND EXPECT ME TO BUY THAT.

……….

48. What’s your favourite aspect of the TFS!AU?

Idk why, but I like how there’s a unique twist in your AU on how Wishing Stars don’t have the best reputation to humans. It’s a nice subversion that makes it stand out a little more. :)) Because usually, the idea of wishing on stars is always seen as a positive thing but that’s not the case in this story. It’s intriguing to watch characters slowly realise that not everything is what it seems.

That, and the hilarious dynamic you’ve got going on between Cielo and Asha and how deep in denial they both are, even though it’s clear as day to the other TFS!cast. 😂

(Wouldn’t it be funny if TFS!Mag and Amaya also noticed? They may be going down a dark path but they’re not blind, girl.)

……..

50. What’s a boring fact about you?

Uhhhhhh…. I like organising stuff by colour for fun...? Like, I used to pour out a box of legos and sort through them as a kind of pastime. I still organise coloured pencils in rainbow order if I could too. 😅 ………

@annymation @uva124 @your-ne1ghbor @ficsinhistory @rascalentertainments @gracebethartacc @spectator-zee

It’s a long read, but I think you guys would enjoy going through it regardless. I hope so anyways.

Btw, thx for all the fun questions Bo! 💖 Might post some more regarding your other doodle requests that I’ve put to the side for now if you don’t mind. :))

[juniper-pines]

Help Please! Commissions! Art for Doodles! Drive to Immediately Stabilize!

So I have a little under 80 days as of this writing to make about $8,000.00 - $10,000 USD

I have been struggling without work. Unpayed bills from the past few months have piled up. I've lost so much already, and I'm at risk of losing even more. On top of that, I need to move halfway across the country by the end of October, since the family I'm staying with is moving out of the country. I can't really follow them with my financial situation.

This escalation happened about a week after I had finally reached a point where I'm able to complete commissions and take in new ones. So now I have additional plans and schedules and stuff that need to be done... Additional money needs to be made, and fast, before I can settle into a more sensible work flow.

So... I'm doing everything. EVERYTHING! Whatever I can do! It's crunch time x1000!

The Quick Summary:

I have a Carrd now! There, you can find links to all my socials, Patreon, Ko-fi, GoFundMe, the form for requesting Commissions or Doodles-For-Donations and Monthly Patreon Doodles, and more! Check it out: https://juni-p.carrd.co/

My Patreon has been updated and makes sense finally! Monthly Doodles can be requested from the form at the bottom of the Commissions page on my Carrd for each monthly Patreon contribution!

You can request Doodles-For-Donations on that same form if you're donated anywhere! Ko-fi, Patreon, wherever! Check out the bottom of the Commissions page on my Carrd for info and a link to the form!

Commissions are open for requests right now! I'll start taking new ones very soon, so get your requests in! Look for the form link on the bottom of my Carrd's Commissions page!

My GoFundMe is still available, and has been updated with info about the move and such. You can read that for more info about it all and donate if you're feeling generous <3 (Also, this still counts for Doodles-for-Donations, too, if you want!)

Soon I'll have a store! With stickers and stuff! Maybe even shirts! I'll send out notifications when there's merch and stuff up, and the links will be up on my Carrd too!

Lots more specifics below, so keep reading! And thank you in advance for any help!

MILESTONES:

I have an income tracker on the Carrd, under News. When I hit a milestone, I'll be doing something special! ...though I haven't figured out what the special thing is just yet! Pls let me know if you have ideas. I wanna make it nice b/c TYTYTYTYTYTYTYTYthankyou~

PATREON INCENTIVES!

All Patreon backers now get a Doodle per month! Details and request form are on the Carrd! It's the same form as Commissions, so just make sure you pick the "Patreon" option, okay? I'm still thinking of what other incentives I can put on there. If anyone has any ideas, please let me know! I really appreciate y'all so much~

KOFI and Donation Doodles!

Like the Patreon doodles, but for one-time donations and things like that I'll be doing these whenever I'm on stream, too, so come say hi! Same request form! It's all on the Carrd!

Commission Requests are open!

I'll be taking new ones soon, once I get more of my backlog done, so if you want a commission, get your requests in! Pricing and details all on the Carrd! I'm working hard <3 <3

Also I'm doing Animations now, too! And YCH stuff soon! I'm excited about it!!! :D :D :D Pic related to both <3 (Thank you X!!!)

GoFundMe

My GoFundMe's been updated to explain my situation some, and to help give me some relief from the amount of work I now have to do in such a short time. Shares, reblogs, etc, are just as appreciated as the donations. Thank you <3

I'm also opening a RedBubble with stickers and prints and stuff!

I don't know what to put there yet, but I already have the storefront and such. More to come soon, of course <3 It's empty at the time of posting, but there'll be stuff there soon!

Finishing commissions comes first, of course~

If you read all of that, TY

I am going through the climax of this whole ordeal I've been in for the past few years and/or most of my life Honestly, the uncertainty hitting such a high is scary, but I'm gonna do my best ( TuT)9 My DMs on Discord are always open if you have any thoughts or questions, okay? TY, everyone, for sticking with me through it all <3

[the-lone-wolf-artist]

A Big Changes to this Blog that was Long Overdue...

Hello Everyone…

It's been quite a while since I last posted anything on this blog, well beside repeats of Desolate Paradise content.

You see, a lot of stuff has changed over the years since I first started this blog in 2016 to now 2024, man a long time huh? Anyway, I never expected the good, the bad, and the ugly things and how it would affect my life. I won't get into the details, but basically I'm just like anyone else in the world that deals with hardships and loss. I found it hard to stay passionate and creative with my art and my mindset, that it got to a point where I had enough…

I stopped doing everything that I loved the most and took a huge break from it.

While I was stewing, reflecting, and just recharging my batteries, I was doing other hobbies during this time that I enjoyed. I was writing for a while through the many fandom Au's I've created and I slowly started getting my spark back and my creative juices flowing again.

I started doodling, sketching and doing art again, even though they may not be the best of what I've done before. I'm still happy with them and it's getting me back to what I love doing most.

I then reached a decision on what I want to do with this blog to not only solve the inactivity but also better myself in the process.

The Big Changes to this Blog

These are the "Big Changes" that will be happening to the The Lone Wolf Artist Blog…

As I mentioned before I do have other hobbies that I have developed over the years that I love doing behind the scenes, such as:

Writing

Animating

Sewing

Beading jewelry

Resin Art

Diamond Art

These are the few prime examples of things I like doing that has expanded my creative space and mindset besides drawing all the time. The reason I haven't posted these types of content was because I was too focused on making masterpieces and trying to keep up with drawing inactivity on this blog.

I started to learn that it was making me unhappy and too stressed out, but that's all about to change for this blog with these hobbies and the other fandom's I'm interested in too! You see the The Lone Wolf Artist Blog is gonna be my personal space for my other hobbies and the other fandom's that I enjoy beside Motorcity, like:

One Piece

Red Dead Series

Studio Ghibi Content

Monster Hunter Series

Evil West

Okami

And Many More Fandom Content I enjoy!

These are the few examples of the other kinds of fandom that I enjoy and love. My interest goes beyond just Motorcity. I have written many fandom Au's stories during my huge break and I'm dying to bring them to life!

Basically this blog is gonna be a place where I get to do what I want to do and you guys get to see the kinda stuff I created through my written fandom Au's stories instead of focusing on one fandom!

Now the Future Changes of this Blog

Now with these big changes happening with this new direction to the Lone Wolf Blog, it doesn't stop there.

You see I do have other changes that will be coming in the future too! Such as:

1: Question Box Opening [Reason for the Idea: It is where you guy's can ask me questions. (FYI: Their will be Rules to prevent Chaos.)]

2: Request Box Opening [Reason for the Idea: Where you can request drawing ideas for me to draw with rules too. (FYI: I'm a bit undecided about the idea right now. If this idea becomes official, it will be a Limited Box Opening of how many I would take; basically an on and off box.)]

3: Previews of W.I.P.S. Artwork's [Reason for the Idea: I know my art takes a lot of time and patience that causes these long pauses in my blog activity, so maybe I'll post some W.I.P'S of my art content process time to keep up the activity.]

4: Previews of W.I.P.S. Animation's [Reason for the Idea: I sometimes dapple in animation every now and then, maybe I'll post some rough animations that I'm really proud of through my simple animation journey.]

5: Short AU Stories [Reason for the Idea: When I'm not drawing or my hand is slightly sore, I like writing small stories in between from my AU's, maybe I'll post these little stories, but no promises I'm not the best writer but not awful.]

6: Small Comic AU's & Scene's [Reason for the Idea: I write a lot and sometimes I like to take the time to bring these scene's to life.]

7: Gaming Clips [Reason for the Idea: Sometimes during the weekend breaks, I play games to give my creative brain a break. Every now and then I capture awesome, funny and goofy moments during my playthrough's that I'm wiling to share.]

These are a few of my suggestions… I will makes post's when I make the final decisions.

Now The Desolate Paradise Blog Issue

The Desolate Paradise Blog (AKA: Motorcity X Wolf Rain's AU Crossover Story) is going be on hiatus in indefinitely…

I made this decision because I want to focus on my other fandom AU's without focusing on this one all the time and causing me to be stressed out and trying to force myself to keep working on it. It wasn't fun anymore and that's not what I wanted for this AU…

So I'm going to put it on hiatus effective immediately, will it return?…

I don't know right now. For now its on pause and needs to stay like that, until I'm ready to come back to it or.. maybe give up on it entirely…only time will tell.

Thank You for Reading and Listening

Thank you all for listening and reading this. It means a lot to me, I hope it clears up a lot of the stuff that's been going on with the inactivity to not only the The Lone Wolf Artist Blog but also the Desolate Paradise Blog too.

It was kinda bothering me for a while and I felt I needed to express it and want to make a change for the better.

I hope you are excited about the new changes that will be happening for the better and hope you all enjoy the new content that will be posted on the The Lone Wolf Artist Blog soon!

With that I bid you farewell and I shall return to the darkness again.

[silksongeveryday]

I just want to quickly say please don't push yourself to try to fulfill every request !! we all really appreciate what you do and the fact that you're even taking requests to begin with is really cool of u !!! and if ur ever feeling overwhelmed don't hesitate to close requests, those ppl who are pressuring you to get to their request can just deal with it :T and thank you again for providing us coping fans with art to fuel us every day, ur awesome

First off, I want to thank you for being super understanding and appreciative of what I do! The fact that so many of you here have been supporting this blog so much has been a big highlight in my life recently. :)

That being said, I’d like to explain a few things now that we’re on the topic if you don’t mind!

About requests:

There are a few reasons that I usually keep my requests open that I think I would like to explain. One of these reasons is that sometimes I can’t always come up with very good ideas on my own all the time. Taking requests from everyone here in this community can help me draw ideas I would have never thought of and for that I’m grateful. Another is that I personally feel like taking requests builds a sense of community and gives me a chance to connect with all of you. I’ll be honest, I’ve been in quite a few fandoms and some of them were quite toxic. So to see that a majority of my experience here has been very nice has been refreshing in a way.

Now this doesn’t necessarily mean that I should feel obligated to do requests all the time. It’s just that I find them more fun than my ideas most of the time so that’s why there’s more of those than stuff that I’ve come up with.

The main rule that I’ve set for myself is that if I don’t like the request, I simply delete it. If someone repeatedly pushes for their request to be done I just simply ignore it or block that person if it’s too much. This is so I can keep this a comfortable experience for both myself and everyone else who follows this blog. Thankfully this doesn’t happen very often. This actually only happens with like a couple people which is why I haven’t really said anything much about it until now. It hasn’t really bothered me to be honest.

I also do close requests from time to time just to slow the flow down. This is so it doesn’t get too overwhelming since I do have a lot of requests that come in. As of posting this, there are like, 30+ requests that I haven’t done yet? But it’s not a big deal to me personally. I have a whole day to complete a 5 minute doodle so I’m sure I can take that tiny bit of time out of the day to do something so simple. That does mean waiting for your request might take longer, but I’ve already kinda talked about that haha.

Being overwhelmed:

Speaking of being overwhelmed,

Also I should clarify that I’m not really that overwhelmed by requests as you might think. I’ve had my fair share of overwhelming moments with similar scenarios like this and this is nothing compared to those. I knew what I was potentially getting into when starting this account so I knew what to prepare for ahead of time if it ever got to this point. I guess bad past experiences really can benefit you sometimes.

Now that doesn’t mean that I’m not overwhelmed at times! There will be a few moments that running this blog feels a little bit overwhelming but those moments are very brief. And in most cases those moments are usually worrying if people will like my doodle for that day or not. Or if I forgot to post that day lol. But generally speaking it’s nothing too worrying. I consider myself fairly good at keeping a level-headed attitude about this.

I’ve also had a few people both here on tumblr and other platforms say that they think I’m gonna burn out from doing this. Whether they mean this because Silksong hasn’t had any news for so long or because they’ve had no experience with a daily account, I’d like to assure you that burnout has a very low chance of happening for me. I’m intentionally putting semi-low effort into my doodles to avoid putting too much energy to this. Otherwise I’m absolutely sure I would have burned out weeks ago. If anything, I’m fully prepared to be posting to this blog for as long as a year assuming nothing happens along the way to prevent that. (*cough* like Silksong *cough* *cough*) If everything stays as is, then I’ll be here for a while.

-

Overall I’d just like to say that I’m under no pressure at all and all of this is just in good fun.

I think I mostly said everything I wanted to, but I hope I made myself clear about all this. If I missed anything I’ll probably talk about it on my main blog, @miizori.

And anon, you are a great person for being so considerate about this! You guys are just as awesome! My biggest takeaway from doing this is that I’ve had a good experience overall and it’s been really fun to interact with the community. I’ve also been enjoying watching my gradual improvement drawing my favorite characters too. If anything, it’s refreshing.

Most all of thanks for reading this! I look forward to posting more doodles to help everyone (myself included) with coping lol

- miizo :)

[buckyhoney-library]

worst behavior, b.b

A/N: Surprise, i released it earlier than expected! I just- i hope you enjoy, bc this is probably the filthiest thing i've written- i also changed the plot a little bit!

Request: hiiii could i request a one-shot where professor!bucky sees you eyeing his metal arm bc he pushed his sleeves up one hot day and proceeds to keep you after class to do smth abt it? you can make it as kinky as you like, maybe some degrading and breeding if you’re comfortable w that! ugh i’m a whore for professor!bucky

reblogs & likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged

Warnings: 18+, professor!bucky, dom!bucky, age gap (f early 20's), degrading kink, public masturbation, oral (m&f), fingering, spanking, light choking, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, sorry for any missed typos!

Word Count: 4.6k, you already know i get carried away with bucky

You shuffle through the hallways of the historic building. The walls are decorated with paintings and engravings. Students walking in various directions making the hallway crowded and hard to get through. Every now and then, students would stop to talk to friends or professors. This halts the moving traffic, causing jams and irritated groans from other students. The satisfaction sets in when you glance down at the time and notice it’s nine fifty-seven. In three minutes, you’ll be officially late to class.

The other classes you take bore you- making it hard to stay focused. They are the generic first-year classes that everybody dreads. You always end up doodling or drifting in and out of sleep throughout the period- but this class? This is the only class that excites you.

World History with Professor Barnes.

You wake up extra early in the morning to get ready for his class. You put a little more effort into your appearance than the other classes. The thought of the professors and students seeing you in sweats and hoodie didn’t bother you. Professor Barnes’s class on the other hand- you made sure you looked put together. His lecture has you wanting to wear the shortest sundresses with little to nothing underneath them.

Being late to Professor Barnes’s class is frowned upon and requires immediate attention when it becomes excessive. The immediate attention was an after-hours meeting with Professor Barnes to discuss what could possibly be more important than his lecture.

The first time you showed up late, happened to be the first day of class. When you rushed into the lecture hall, your heart nearly stopped by the man in front of you. Brunette hair’s swept back, piercing blue eyes, and a button-up that looked a size too small- showing off his bulging biceps. The fitted navy-blue button-up was rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone. His biceps on full display through the material- showing off the vibranium. You swallowed hard as he began to scold you in front of the entire hall.

“I do not tolerate tardiness. Enough tardies require a private meeting after hours.” His light blue eyes never broke contact with yours, darkening with lust the longer he looks at you- taking you all in.

It was almost as if he was telling you to be late. There is a faint heartbeat between your legs, you cross them in fear he could hear the throbbing from where he stands. You began to daydream about the warm metal wrapped around your throat, while his other fingers were buried inside you. Or the prints that would be left against the flesh of your ass. You nod slowly with the most innocent eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Barnes. I had gotten lost. It will never happen again.” You say innocently, playing up the role- even going as far as pouting your lips.

Bucky’s cock twitched at the sight of your puffed-out lips. Begging to be made an example out of you in front of the class. You smile back at him, patiently waiting to be excused to your seat.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Ms?”

“Y/L/N.” You purr.

“You may find a seat Ms. Y/L/N.”

He looks are you properly, eyeing you up and down. His eyes fixated on your hips, swaying side to side as you walk up the steps, your skirt flapping up behind you- teasing him. Bucky knew you were going to be trouble this semester- and trouble is exactly what you had been for the last month.

You did everything in your power to get him to keep you after class. Bucky is getting more and more fed up with you- acting so innocent. He knew damn well that you want nothing more than to have your pretty little mouth stuffed with his cock- gagging and gasping for breath.

He hates that you are pretending like you had no idea the amount of frustration you are causing him. The amount of self-control Bucky exhibits is astounding. Especially on the days, you come in wearing close to nothing- claiming it was ‘just too hot outside’ or when you sit in the front row with a lollipop in your mouth, exaggerating the moans as you suck the red hard candy.

-

You straighten out the wrinkles out of the floral baby blue sundress, before turning the knob on the door.

“Ms. Y/L/N. You’re late- again.” Professor Barnes states sternly, not bothering to look at you.

Bucky caught a glimpse out of the side of his eye- you were wearing his favorite dress and knew he couldn’t look at you in the eye without taking you right there.

This is Bucky’s favorite dress. He loves the way it holds your breasts higher and how it hangs over the curve of your ass so nicely.

How much prettier would the dress look across his lap.

Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you when you walk and the dress flows with every step- sometimes a little too much. This grants him a sneak peek of your favorite lacey white panties- or sometimes the lack thereof. He stiffens at the sight of the fabric covering your pretty little cunt, taunting him.

For the past month, all Bucky could think about is that cunt. How tight you’d be around him- hearing you whimper and whine when he finally enters you, stretching you out to fit perfectly. He wonders if you could take him all at once or if he needs to warm you up with his fingers- but the thing he thought about the most: how sweet you must taste. The question alone could get him off.

How desperately he wants a taste of you.

“Mr. Barnes I am sorry-“ You begin to play into your act before he cut you off,

“Find your seat.” He still not bothering to look at you.

Disappointment floods your face from the lack of attention. In an effort for payback, you sit in the first row already pouting. He began the lecture by discussing the homework he had assigned the night before. You reach into your bag, pulling out the folder.

Expecting you to be in your usual spot in the back of the lecture hall, Bucky clenches his jaw at the sight of you sitting with your legs crossed shut in the front row, with your elbows on the small desk and hands cupping your face in boredom. His cock began to stir. Your breasts press together against the thin fabric- that is working extra hard to keep your breasts from being on display for everyone.

You see the frustration written on his face the moment he finally looks at you. You smirk at the successful payback.

The class goes on, but the material bores you. You begin to stare at Professor Barnes. You could hear the small adjustments from the vibranium as he moves about the lecture hall. Your breath hitches when he rolls his sleeves up. His biceps bulging against the fabric, a faint throbbing begins between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek holding back a whimper. You squirm in your seat, uncrossing your legs to press them together to relieve some pressure.

The sinful thought begins to overtake your mind, only making the throbbing worse by the added arousal pooling against the lace. Checking each side of you, you look to see if there are any other students close enough to you that were about to witness this risky act. There are students staggered behind you, but only a couple dare to sit in the first rows. They are intently listening to their professor- who has his attention on the chalkboard.

You swallow a lump, attempting to steady your breathing. You slip your hand below the desk, resting it on your upper thigh. With one more quick scan of the room, you slip your hand underneath your dress.

You inhale sharply at the contact with your aching cunt. The slow circles you draw over your lacey panties release a wave of pleasure. Your lips part and your eyes flutter. The idea of someone catching you- the idea of him catching you? Made the arousal seep through the material getting on your fingers. You close your eyes dreaming about how Bucky’s fingers would dip between your folds, collecting the arousal and forcing you to taste yourself. You could imagine the pornographic scene play out in your mind, the heavy panting and degrading remarks- your fingers slip inside the thin fragile material. The satisfaction of making direct contact with the bundle of nerves makes it almost impossible to bit back any moans. Instead, you let out silent breaths.

Your imagination continues with his fingers going back between the folds, teasing the entrance- making you whine. Bucky’s other hand groping your breasts harshly. The focus is solely on the clit that throws you hurtling toward your orgasm. You brace yourself for the pleasurable release.

Bucky turns around to flip the page of the textbook when he sees it- sees your legs parted with your middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. He holds his breath, not believing the whore in front of him. Your pants becoming faster and heavier. The pleasure begins to boil over, sending you over the edge. You remove your fingers covering your mouth to muffle the whimpers.

When you come down enough to open your eyes, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach. Red flushing your cheeks and your chest tightens- you have been caught. His jaw hung open in disbelief at what he just witnessed. This is the final straw, touching yourself in class? Cumming in class- in front of him. There is no hiding the growing bulge in his pants.

Bucky slams shut the textbook, The other students sit in confusion at the sudden outburst from their Professor.

“Make sure you read the rest of the chapter. Class dismissed.” He almost growls.

Bucky takes cover at his desk, covering any evidence of an erection. He pulls a random stack of papers to distract himself from the bulge in his pants.

You hurry to pack away your things- you know that you are in a world of trouble and wish to leave the room as fast as possible.

You pull the bag over your shoulder and head straight for the door, not making eye contact with anyone.

“Ms. Y/L/N. Stay.” His voice booming in the near-empty room.

You freeze in your tracks, holding your breath. You turn around to face the furious man seated behind the desk. The one man that now held all the power to expel you. You feel small and weak the closer you get to his desk. He waits till the last student leaves the room.

“Yes, Professor Barnes?” Anxiety begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

“We need to discuss your behavior. Follow me.” The demand making you shiver.

Your legs wobble as you follow him to the room just off the lecture hall. It is his office. It is bigger than you have imagined it. The smell of oak and cigars filling your lungs the moment you enter. His dark mahogany desk is the focal point of the room. The walls are decorated with artwork he had collected over the years. The dark brown curtains are pulled shut. The only light source being the two standing lamps on reside on each side of his bookshelf. Knick-knacks covering the surfaces of the shelves and desk.

“Sit.” His voice is stern laced with lust.

The restricting fabric of the briefs and pants makes the bulge painful. You sit in the chair in front of his desk with your ankles crossed and hands in your lap.

“First, you’re late to my class.” He is stalks around you- like your prey. His arms crossed tightly against his chest.

“Then, you wear this provocative dress.” Bucky’s fingers glide up your arm, grazing over the thin strap on your shoulder. His touch burning your skin.

“Then, you proceed to touch yourself in the middle of my lecture- cumming all over yourself like a disgusting little whore.” His words starting up the throbbing.

Bucky leans against the edge of the desk and your eyes are fixated on your lap- not daring to make eye contact.

“I have every right to expel you,” You inhale preparing yourself.

“-but I’m not going to.” Your eyes shoot up meeting his.

They’re filled to the brim with lust and desire. You gain a boost of confidence soars through you with the knowledge that you aren’t getting expelled.

He tilts your chin up to him, getting a better look at you. Using your chin to turn your face to each side- examining the mouth that will soon be full of him.

Bucky runs his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling at it- parting your lips. You push your head forward, taking his thumb in your mouth- closing your lips around him. You hum, innocently locking eyes with him.

You had no idea what you just started.

A devilish grin tugs on the corners of his mouth at the sight of you taking his thumb. You hallow your cheeks, sucking gently.

“What a good little slut.” He purrs. Bucky removes his thumb and stands.

“But, you’re not getting off that easily. Come.”

You stand to your feet moving to stand in front of him. The throbbing increases between your thighs and the arousal seeping through your panties. Bucky looks down at you touching your shoulder and neck. He finally rests his hand on your cheek, rubbing the flesh gently. You swallow, tensing and untensing your jaw. Bucky sense your nerves,

“It’s okay, princess- you’ll only be a little sore.” Your heart skips a beat.

Your panties are now drenched in your wetness and you swear he could hear the throbbing. You dreamt for this day. He pulls your lips to his. Finally meeting yours. It is slow and passionate; you didn’t know if you could touch him- but he has his hands holding the sides of your face.

“On your knees.” His voice is low and dark.

You drop to your knees. You’re now eye to eye with his bulge. The hardened cock makes your mouth water. You lick your lips, looking at him before you reach for his belt. He nods granting you permission. The belt is undone along with the button of his dress pants. Your slow movements have Bucky in a trance. His eyes don’t leave you.

You tug the pants down, his length still trapped behind the black briefs. You feel his length and hear a low groan escapes his mouth. You place small pecks on top of the clothed member. You are salivating with every kiss, growing more eager. The underwear is pulled down, freeing the aggravated cock. It’s red and looks like it is going to burst within seconds. The girth and length surprises you and you begin to wonder if you can even fit him inside you- let alone your mouth. Nerves build within you and hesitantly look up at Professor Bucky.

“I don’t know if it will fit,” Your voice is quiet, he chuckles and lifts your chin once more.

“Make it fit.” His voice is just above a whisper, but dark and stern.

At that moment you realize that this wasn’t going to be a quick punishment. He is going to make you wish you never wore short dresses, late to his class, or cum in front of him. Bucky licks his lips in awe of how beautiful you looked kneeling in front of him. All the fantasies are about to come true.

You take his length in your small hands; you use both hands to warm him up- slowly building him up. The strokes begin slow and sloppy. Your thumb going over his tip. It’s angry and swollen, it’s begging to be drained. You rub small circles around it- mimicking your movements from earlier. Bucky’s breathing becomes slow pants. The pleasure building with each stroke.

You mentally prepare yourself, collecting all the saliva you could to the front of your mouth. You flicker your eyes up, the grin that grows on his face as you close your lips around his tip encourages you. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping the strands at the root.

“Yes, take my cock in your mouth you filthy slut.” You hum around him.

He begins to slowly push your head closer to his pelvis, forcing you to take more of him. You were only halfway down his shaft when you gripped his thighs for support. Your ankles are crossed behind you and you are leaning back sitting on your feet.

Bucky didn’t care about staying silent. His low grunts and heavy pants left his lips as he grips your hair. The pure bliss he is experiencing is unlike anyone he’s had before. Based on your performance, he knew that you have had experience before. The thought of other men in your mouth drove him insane. His grip on your hair guides your mouth up and down his cock. He became more aggressive with his grip, quickening his pace.

“I just know you’ve been dreaming about my cock filling your mouth, hm? You’re such a stupid slut- wanting to suck your professor’s cock,” He moans.

You’re gagging on his length, trying your hardest to keep from pulling off of him. You hallow your cheeks adding extra pleasure and using one hand to pump the length while he guides your head. The longer you’re taking him in your mouth the less air you’re getting, the veins in your neck become prominent. You dig your nails into his thigh. Bucky hisses at the feeling of your nails sinking into his skin.

“That’s right, princess. You feel so good around my cock,” He purrs watching the tears forming from in the corners of your eyes.

You can’t take anymore without feeling like you were going to choke. Bucky feels the resistance of you attempting to pull off of him. He pushes your head fully down his length, causing a pornographic moan to leave his lips. Bucky yanks the roots of your hair, ripping you off his length. You gasp for air and cough at the sudden ability to breathe. Saliva coats your lips and his thighs.

“You better finish what you started.” Bucky hisses,

You nod wiping your mouth. This time around, he has precum oozing from his tip. You gather it with your thumb and coat the rest of his length, using it as lubrication. You take him once more, this time using both hands and your mouth. The combo is enough to send Bucky into orbit, but when you start sucking his tip and swirling your tongue around it- he knew it would be a matter of seconds before he would release his load.

“You taste so good, Professor.” You hum against his tip, your movements become faster- not bothering with a slow build.

Bucky grips the edge of the desk, you hear the vibranium cracking through the wood. The sound only eggs you on. The sounds of your slurping and moans, cause Bucky to twitch inside your mouth- signaling he is gonna cum at any moment.

Within seconds your mouth is filled with strings of cum. Bucky’s hips buck as your mouth continues to suck him off. The taste of him has become addicting, you want every last drop of him. You pull off of him, wiping up the spilled cum on your chin. Sucking it off of your finger.

“Shit, princess. You did so well finishing every drop.” He pulls you up from your knees.

“-but that doesn’t mean you’re done. You still need to be punished for your behavior in class. Do you understand?” You nod.

Bucky walks behind his desk. You follow, nervous about what your punishment will be.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N. Bend over.” You do as you say.

Your breast smush against the dark wood, your eyes fixated on the photographs of him with family and friends. You smirk to yourself and look back at him. Bucky’s fingers trail up the backs of your thighs. He lifts the pretty blue sundress, finally seeing that perfect ass up close. Bucky’s cock throbs again when he sees that the underwear you’re wearing the cheeky white lace. So innocent, he thought. Bucky runs his palm over the meaty flesh, gripping and jiggling it. He moans at its effortless movement.

“Fuck!” You yelp, his palm makes contact with your ass cheek.

“I told you, princess. You need to be punished. Count them.” Another rough smack.

“Two.” The tears returning to your eyes, but the pleasure overpowers the pain.

You arch your back, wiggling your ass higher in the air, this time, he is able to get a sneak peek of the covered cunt that lived in his mind.

“Three,” This time, your eyes roll back and you’re seeing stars.

Bucky takes notice of just how soaked you are. He pulls the lace with his metal fingers, tearing through them in an effortless tug. The strings of arousal follow the fabric as it is thrown to the ground.

“Oh? You like getting punished? You soaked through your panties. You really are a fucking whore.” He runs his middle finger down your center, your body twitches once he reaches your swollen and needy clit. Bucky kneels, coming face to face with the glistening beauty. His dream is coming to a reality, he is finally going to taste you.

His tongue dips between your folds, causing you to gasp at the unexpected pleasure. Your ass is still in the air and his hands are gripping your inner thigh, pulling them apart, allowing more access to your sopping cunt.

“Just like I imagined it, so fucking sweet.” He is breathless, the taste of you becomes his new favorite flavor.

Bucky’s tongue licks up the access arousal and his thumb rubs small circles around your clit, making you whine against his desk. His mouth begins to place open mouth kisses against you, his tongue dipping inside you. You need something to grip and release the pent-up pleasure but result to releasing through you moans and whines. It is music to Bucky’s ears.

He pulls away from your dripping cunt, kicking your legs open, spreading them- giving him the best access he could get. His mouth returns to you. But this time giving full attention to your clit.

“I’m too big for your hole, princes. I have to stretch you out.” You whine, as his middle and ring finger slide inside you.

You’re a whimpering mess on his desk as his mouth and fingers switched places. His fingers stretching you out and his mouth on your clit. Bucky moans into you at the feeling of your pussy pulsating against his fingers. You are in pure bliss as he pumps his fingers, occasionally curling- hitting the spongey flesh of your g-spot. He swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking on it and releasing it with a pop. You feel yourself hurdling towards your orgasm. The pulsating becomes quicker, and the moans are now endless streams. Bucky knew you’re close to cumming around his fingers, but you had already came today. He removes his fingers and mouth in one swoop, leaving you breathless and irritated.

“You already came today; only well-behaved whores get to cum.”

You stare back at him in anger. Your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting like you just ran a marathon. He takes amusement at the sight of you looking like a mess.

“Professor, please! I’ve been a good girl!” You whine, wiggling your ass backwards.

“I’ll think about it. It depends on how well you take this cock, princess.” You nod your head, bracing yourself.

Bucky pumps himself a few times before he slides his tip against your cunt. You dreamed of the moment you would feel him inside you. Him sliding into you and filling you up. The need and desire overtaking you and bucking your hips into his cock.

“I said to be good.” A more aggressive smack lands on your ass, this time he used the vibranium. You yelp in pain, knowing there is going to be a handprint on your ass. Branding you.

You gasp at the sudden fullness.

“I was going to be gentle, since you are not used to a cock as big as me, but since you want to be an inpatient slut- now I’m not going too.” Bucky rams his cock into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

He grunts at the sound of your whines and whimpers. He grips your hips using it to increase his speed. The purple and red marks form, where his fingers dig into you. Bucky groans at how tight you feel around him. The resistance from your walls getting him closer and closer.

Bucky continues at his pace while, but this time gripping the back of your neck. He tugs you back, lifting you. Your hands palm down on the desk, using it as stability. One of his hands pins your hands behind your back. Bucky pulls you back, flushing your bodies together. His fingers wrap around your neck. Your head falls back against his shoulder moaning at the sensation of his fingers around your throat. Bucky’s rhythm doesn’t slow down now that you’re standing. Your legs are still wide allowing him to go deep and hard.

“You’re such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” You couldn’t even think.

You have entered another world. Your hands are still pinned behind you and your eyes are rolling back from the feeling of his other. All you could do is moan and sink into his cock.

“Fucking yourself in front of the class and cumming all over yourself- you fucking loved the idea of getting caught huh? I bet you would love someone to walk through that door and catch me fucking your sweet cunt.”

His words only push you further into nirvana. Your legs begin to feel weak, and the responsibility of standing is becoming too much. Bucky notices the sudden inability to stand.

“You gonna cum, princess?” You are barely able to function. You moan in response and he thrusts quicken- if that is even possible.

“Cum, princess. Cum around my cock,”

You see stars as a wave of pleasure washes overtakes you and you feel pure ecstasy. Your cunt contracts around his cock, sending Bucky over the edge. His cock pulsating and shoot loads of cum inside you, filling you once more.

“Fuck!” He moans one last time.

He collapses on top of you. Your hands catching your bodies as you lay pressed against his desk once again. Bucky pulls himself out of you, leaking with cum. You whimper at the sudden loss of fullness.

Your legs felt weak and standing on your own seemed like an impossible task. You are trying to catch your breath. The high cooling off and you regain the ability to talk.

You push yourself up, feeling the cum run onto your inner thigh. Bucky grabs a handful of tissues, wiping away the cum. He helps you sit down on his chair. Your breathing finally slows and the adrenaline wears off. You begin to feel the aftermath of every mark and muscle. You groan as you try to move from the seat.

Bucky walks over to you handing you a bottle of water and switches places with you, so you are now on his lap.

“I told you would be a little sore,” He chuckles, placing a kiss on your temple.

[tamakissimp]

headcanon- secret santa

summary: they’re their crush’s secret Santa

characters: Izuku, Shoto, Iida, Shinso, Dabi

warnings: cursing

request: @awkwardteengirl505​ hey hun! sorry to be a pain but can you do a secret Santa part 2 please? with the rest of the gang like izu, sho,dabi ect. also hope your having a fabulous day :D

a/n: thank you! I hope you have a good day too! and yes, I was already kinda planning on doing these headcanons for more characters so thank you for requesting!🥰

𝕚𝕫𝕦𝕜𝕦

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟞𝟡𝟡

Izuku bits his tongue to keep his giggles down. He didn't even need to fully read your name, he could recognize your handwriting anywhere. Heat flushes through his cheeks as his mind goes wild with ideas for potential gifts.

"Who'd you get 'Zuki?" you suddenly ask. His heart skips a beat at the nickname. He quickly stuffs the piece of paper into his pocket and looks in your eyes. A mistake, on his part, since he immediately looks down to the ground after.

"No one!" he says a little too quickly. You hold your hands up in the air and take a step away from him. Izuku curses at himself for his response. "I mean, i-it's a secret! A t-total secret s-so I can't t-tell you.".

You nod at his words before flashing him a smile. "Okay, okay. Then I'm not telling you either,' you say as you shoot him a wink. You turn away from him when Ochako taps on your shoulder. She happily shows you her note before you show her yours.

Izuku stars at your interaction with your mutual friend. A small smile tugs on his lips as he sees how happy you get. You whisper in Ochaka's ear so that none of the others can hear you. God, he needs to make this gift perfect.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Izuku unwraps his gift with shaky fingers. He carefully pulls the black ribbon off the box before moving into the green wrapping paper. Out from under the paper, a box appears. Simple doodles decorate the sides. He recognizes some of them. They're the same doodles you always draw on your notes.

The drawings range from hearts to flowers to little face. A blush washes through his cheeks. He quickly lifts the lid of the box. A sweater lays waiting for him. He quickly grabs it out the box. He runs the soft material between his fingers.

Izuku looks up at you. A goofy smile is plastered on your lips. Yep, that makes it official. This sweater is the only thing he is going to wear for the next week.

"T-Thank you so much!" he says as he gives you a little bow. You nudge his side while shaking your head.

"Stop with those formalities," you say before pulling him in for a hug. Izuku remains frozen as you hug him. He memorizes the feeling of your body presses against his. He bites his tongue to stop a whine from spilling out as you pull away.

"Now, I think it's your turn if I'm correct," Shoto says. You nod at the half-and-half boy as you reach towards the gift bag with your name on it. It's small, smaller than the others.

Izuku's body runs cold as he watches you unpack his gift. Insecurity clouds his brain. Compared to your gift, his is trash. Maybe he shouldn't have taken Iida's advice.

A gasp leaves your lift as you read over the words written on the slip of paper stuffed in the gift bag. "A...date?" you ask before looking over at Izuku. His cheeks as he looks over at his 'gift'.

Coupon good for one date

Fuck. He should have thought of something else. Why would you want to go on a date with him? Facing rejection in front of his friends will be the worse thing to ever happen to him-

"I thought you'd never ask," you say. Wait, what? Izuku's head whips up to look at you. That same goofy smile from earlier is displayed on his lips. His heart fills up with the heat.

"Really-" he says. You cut him off but moving forwards, cupping his face and planting your lips on his. Izuku stiffens for a second before melting into the kiss. It's brief, but it's all he could ever wish for.

You pull away only to be welcomed from various comments and wolf whistles from your friends.

"I thought you two would never confess," Shoto says. You finally look away from Izuku to stare at the 'coupon' once again. Izuku laughs a little as Iida gives him a couple of reassuring pats on his back. O God, is he thankful that he's your secret Santa.

𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕠

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟞𝟜𝟘

Christmas is new to him. His parents were to busy abusing raising their kids to bother with holidays. All he knew about Christmas comes from the few Hallmark movies he saw. So when Izuku told him that the whole, so-called, Deku-squad were going to do secret Santa it took a lot of explaining. You took the role of guiding Shoto through it.

"Just, grab a note," you say as you point to the bowl sitting in front is Shoto. He nods before reaching into the bowl and grabbing a note. He looks at you again. "Open it up! See who you got.".

Shoto folds the note open. His eyes widen as he sees your name scribbled on the note. He quickly folds it closed again. "And?" you ask. "Why'd you get?".

"It's a secret, isn't it?" Shoto says. You laugh at him. You expected Iida to stick to the rules, not Shoto.

"That's true," you say. "It's a bummer though. I got Izuku.".

Shoto nods at that. Some part of him is disappointed that you aren't his secret Santa. He would even dare to say that he's jealous of Izuku. Though he pushes those thoughts back down quickly. He has no reason to be jealous, right?

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

'Y-Y/n, it's your t-turn!" Izuku says. You smile at him and grab the bag with your name on it. Izuku's attention is immediately turned back on the various amounts of Allmight merchandise you got him.

You look over your group of friends before looking back at the gift bag. You quickly grab every gift out of the bag. From the looks, if it, your secret Santa went above the budget. Way above the budget.

A simple chain necklace, a new Christmas sweater, a gift card for your favourite store. You quickly realized who your secret Santa was. Only one person had enough money to pull this off. You were certain when you pulled a new phone case out of the gift bag. It has a photo of you and Shoto printed on the back off it.

Once all the gifts are stalled out around you, you turn to your friend. "Shoto, you shouldn't have," you say before pulling him in a for a hug.

Shoto awkwardly wraps his arms around your shoulders. A smile tugs on his lips as he feels you nuzzle into his neck. You pull away again to glance at the gifts.

"I can't accept all of these," you say. Shoto quickly shakes his head.

"From my understanding, secret Santa's were supposed to give each other gifts, correct?" Shoto asks. You nod at his words. "Then please, do accept them.".

You sigh. You could see that there was a meaning behind every gift. A shirt that Shoto already owned, so that you match now. A teddy bear, that is similar to one he once won for you at a fare. A box of chocolates from the brand you both enjoy.

You nod before mentioning towards Iida to grab his gift. He happily reaches towards the pile laying in front of you all.

"I'll accept them if..." you say. "If you let me pay you back. Let me take you out for food tonight.".

Shoto's cheeks flush at the idea of you two going to a restaurant. Could this be? Maybe...

"Are you asking me out on a date?" he asks. A nervous smile spreads over your lips.

"If I am, would you say yes?" you ask. Shoto nods. You happily smile before giving his arm a light squeeze. Shoto's eyes widen at the action but he can't deny the butterflies swarming up because of it.

"Then consider it a date!" you say. Shoto nods before looking away from you and towards Iida, who's now unpacking his gifts. God, never had he guessed that Christmas could be this much fun.

𝕚𝕚𝕕𝕒

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟞𝟝𝟙

Secret Santa was just another opportunity for Iida to prove that he was a class president. He made it his personal mission to get his secret Santa the best gifts money could get.

He is busy hyping himself up as he reaches into the bowl to grab a note. He unfolds it. Y/n. Fuck. Ass. Shit. Fucking fuck. Panic washes through his body.

"Iida!" you say. The panic that was building up in him melts the moment he hears your voice. He turns towards you with a smile on his lips. You run over to him with a goofy smile on your lips.

Once you reach him, you tap him a couple of times on his arm. "Do you want to go gift shopping with me? Please?" you ask. He can't say no to you. Not when you give him those big, puppy-dog eyes paired with that goofy grin.

Iida quickly nods. "Yes! Of course," he says. "I'll take you shopping. That's what a good friend does!".

"Great! How about tomorrow at four?" you ask. Iida nods. You smile at him one last time before running off to talk to god knows who. Iida remains in his spot, relishing the warmth flowing through his heart. He is thankful that his mind is still clouded by a loving fog. If not, he would be freaking out on how he's going to hide that fact that he's your secret Santa.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Iida's normally calm composure is now failing on him. To him, it feels like you're unpacking your gift at an agonizingly slow pace. While in reality, you're tearing through the baby blue wrapping paper at rapid speed.

His fists clench and unclench as he tries to keep his nerves at bay. When you have finally thorn away all the wrapping paper, a smile spreads over your lips.

You proudly hold your gift in your hands. A little basket filled with snacks, a new mug and a book from your favourite author. Along with a letter situated in a pretty green envelope.

"This is so sweet!" you say. With that, Iida's body relaxes. A cocky smile spreads over his lips. "Who's my secret Santa?".

With that, Iida lifts his hand. You carefully place the basket on the ground beside you before crawling over to Iida and pulling him into a hug. "Thank you," you whisper into his shoulder.

Iida's smile grows at your hug. His nerves are on fire and his senses are tingling. His happily wraps his arms around you. You pull away from him - way too quickly for Iida - and look him in the eyes.

"What's in the envelope?" you asks. Iida's cheeks grow red at the question.

"Um-N-Nothing!" he quickly says. "Just open it when you're by yourself, okay?". You nod at him before crawling back to your original space, wondering what could be in that envelope.

✨bonus✨

You clutch the small basket to your chest as you take quick steps towards your dorm. You pull the door open and rapidly throw it shut behind you. You gently place the basket onto your bed before gabbing the envelope out of it.

The light green colour suprised you. Blue would have suited Iida better but it's pretty none the less. You quickly open it before snatching the letter out of it. You gently fold it open before reading it.

You're way too excited to read the whole thing. You opt for scanning the text quickly instead. I trust you. Well, that's good. Trust is essential in friendship. I hope you won't treat me differently. Wait, what? I like you.

Oh, crap. Meet me tonight at my dorm have feelings for me as well. If not, we'll pretend I never confessed.

You throw the letter down onto your bed and run over to Iida's dorm. If Aizawa would have seen how fast you ran, he would have been proud.

𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕠

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟟𝟘𝟠

To say that he was surprised when you invited him for secret Santa, was an understatement. Most of the school feared him, though you never did. You opened him with wide arms and showed him what it's like to be treated like a normal person.

Shinso ignores the hateful glares thrown his way. The only thing he's paying attention to is the way you pull him towards the bowl that Kirishima is holding.

"Y/n!" the redhead says. You greet him as well. "Oh, you brought Shinso.". For a moment, a prepares himself for another hateful comment thrown his way. "You're in general studies, right?". Oh, that wasn't so bad.

Shinso nods at Kirishima. A smile spreads over the redhead's lips. "Cool! I heard that your quirk is super manly!"

Shinso looks over at you with confused eyes. "Hell yeah," you say before reaching into the bowl and grabbing a note. "Hitoshi's quirk is badass.".

A smile spreads over Shinso's lips before grabs a note as well. "You're unbreakable, right?" he asks. Kirishima proudly smiles at him while humming in agreement. "That's...cool,".

"And manly," you add. Kirishima chuckles at you before excusing himself to continue handing out notes. You turn back towards Shinso.

"Let's see who we got!" you say. Shinso nods before folding his note open. Y/n. Thank fucking god. He would have died is he had someone else, let alone a big-mouthed little shit like Bakugou.

He looks over to you. The moment you've read the name on the note, you quickly close it again. A bright smile falls on your lips as stupid giggles follow suit.

"Did you get me?" Shinso asks. He means it teasingly but you take it seriously. Your eyes grow wide.

"How did you know?" you ask. Shinso chuckles to himself before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading the two of you towards the couch standing in the common room.

"Only I could make you giggle like a fucking idiot," he adds. You shake your head as you snuggle into his hold. Fuck, was he glad he pulled your note.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The whole afternoon has gone by surprisingly well. So far, Bakugou has only blown two holes in the whole, Denki has only short-circuited ones and Iida has only given five lectures. No one has said anything hurtful to Shinso. The 1-A class have started to warm up to the general studies student. Shinso would even dare to say that he was having a good time. Though, sipping hot chocolate while laughing his ass off with you could make any activity 'good'.

"Come on, idiot. You're next," Bakugou groans out. He has his arms folded over his chest, doing his best to put on a 'tough guy' facade. Though, his attempts fail since the pastel orange cap that Kirishima gifted him is still planted firmly on his head. The knitted yarn along with the fluffy pomp-pomp sitting on top of it makes Bakugou look more like an angry toddler than a threat.

With a smile, you grab your gift bag. You look over at Shinso before opening the bag up. He's lazily leaning against the couch while taking slow sips of his hot chocolate.

The jet-black gift bag reveals a white scarf. Sloopy stitches and small holes quickly give away the fact that it's homemade. The creamy white colour reminds you of only one person.

You look over to Shinso to see him already smirk at you. You quickly wrap the scarf around your neck. The soft wool feels amazing against your skin.

"Did you make this, 'Toshi?" you ask. Shinso slowly nods. You run your fingers over the fabric again. "Thank you. Really, thank you.".

Shinso's heart flutters at the sight of you. Your excitement travels over to him and he can't stop a goofy smile from pulling on his lips.

"Shitty hair, you're next!" Bakugou calls as he points at Shinso.

He shakes his head as he grabs his own gift bag. "My hair is not shitty, it's cool," he says before grabbing his gift out of the bag.

"Meh, it's actually kinda shitty," you interject while rubbing the scarf against your cheek. Shinso shakes his head at you. God, you're a dork. But you're his dork.

𝕕𝕒𝕓𝕚

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟜𝟛𝟟

The only reason he agreed to do this was to stop Toga from bugging him. That and the chance that he could get to be your secret Santa. Or better yet, get you to be his.

While flirting was normally his forte, all his skills when out the window when it came to you. He stumbles of his words and his hands start shaking. He feels like a highschool boy all over again. Maybe he could use this as a way to get you to go out with him.

"Bacon bits, come on and pick one," Shigaraki calls. Dabi grumbles at the nickname.

"Not my name, crusty," he says before sticking his hand into Mr Compress' hat. Please be Y/n. Just this once, let the universe work in his favour. He pulls the note out of the hat. He folds it open. Y/n.

Dabi thanks any god that might be up there. For once, luck is on his side. Dabi's eyes shoot over to you. You're talking with a giddy Toga. She's hanging on your arm and discussing potential gifts with you.

You look over at him. He winks at you and you quickly look back at Toga, too flustered to look at Dabi again. He chuckles to himself before walking over a dark corner of the bar try to look 'cool' and 'mysterious'. No one can know that he's secretly thinking if a romantic present to give you.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

"Y/n-chan! Open your gift!" Toga whines out. You shake your head at her as you carefully tear the wrapping paper away. It's clearly cheap. Knowing your friends, most likely stolen, though you don't mind. You smile as you see your gift.

A small teddy bear with dark purple patches to match Dabi's scars. You quickly look over at him. "So you can cuddle it. I know you want the real thing," he says while gesturing to his body. "But this is the closest you'll get.".

You smile brightly at him as you wrap your arms around the plushy. Dabi's heart does summersaults at the sight of you, though he does his best to hide that.

"So I'll never get to snuggle with you?" you ask with a fake pout. Dabi rolls his eyes at you.

"If you wanted to get into my bed you could have just said so, baby," he says. You look away from him again as you mention for Toga to open her gift.

Dabi smirks as he continues to watch you cradle the plushie. Some part of him grows envious of the inanimate object. Maybe, he'll offer to cuddle you tonight. Maybe.

[whitherliliesbloom]

heartbeat concerto

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #03 - scale ]

[ alphinaud/wol ]  ★ [ 2,605 words ]  ★ [ nodame cantabile au ]

scale: an arrangement of the notes in any system of music in ascending or descending order of pitch

Illya prays to the heavens that the man beside her does not hear the fortissimo that was her pounding heart. 

“Rachmaninoff?” Her voice was equal parts confused as it was alarmed, hiking in pitch that sounded like an ear piercing squeak, almost grimace worthy. Trepidation rings loud in her chest, like shrieking white noise that deafens her. “I’ve never played a concerto in front of somebody before.” 

She had hoped that admittance would allow him to grant her some fraction of mercy. After all... for as gracious and supportive a tutor as he was a diligently observant audience for her playing, he surely wouldn’t throw her into the deep end after she’d just barely able to make some progress, right?

The boy merely smiles, navy blue eyes softening in its gaze as he waves the music sheets in his hands before placing them delicately upon the piano stand. He exudes an aura of gentle reassurance, but knows that his resolve to push her past her comfortable limits is implacable. 

“Now would be a good time for a first then, wouldn’t you agree?”

Illya heart sinks, lips pressed into a thin, paling line as she glances at the score that awaited her - notes upon lines that were rapidly blurring into nothing but squiggles and incomprehensible doodles in her vision... as if taunting her, daring her to butcher one of the most iconic piano concertos to have ever been composed - by one of the greatest virtuoso pianists to have ever lived no less? 

Sonatas were one thing - it took Illya a good amount of time to be able to even bring herself to play the first movement of Sonata Facile to completion in front of him without breaking down into a mess of cold sweat and trembling fingers. 

But concertos... by the twelve, even saying the word brings her chills down her spine. 

She was nowhere near good enough for pieces that demanded such high amounts of skill, precision and talent... nowhere even close to being able to perform alone on stage for a crowd to behold... let alone in front of an entire orchestra. 

When she had met the violin prodigy that had been her new neighbor and he’d offered to help her overcome the performance anxiety that had crippled her ability to play the piano in front of others for years, she hadn’t expected for him to have such sky high expectations for her - expectations that she was certain she’d never in a million years be able to meet.

Alphinaud is a confident, assured young man. Performing was only natural to him, came as naturally as music does flow through his very veins - he had even stated so on the very day that they’d met. Music is for ears to hear, for the world to enjoy. What point was there to keeping music hidden behind four walls? To hide away the sound of their instruments is an affront to the very reason those instruments were made in the first place. 

He moved into this apartment complex for a very different reason than she did - and she understood that he too, in his own ways that she could not yet fully understand, had his own troubles which kept him from reaching the heights in which he, and his family had aspired him to be. 

But the notoriety behind the difficulty of the pieces he plays has never once made his bow once falter, nor has it ever put him off the idea of even trying. Certainly, there were aspects of his playing to critique... but his determination and confidence alone makes him more of a capable musician than she is - something she both deeply envied and admired. 

Would that she could even possess half the amount of talent as he- she’d constantly tell herself, and it was a thought that possessed her even as she hung her head in defeat, trudging to the piano that sat in the middle of the living room before sitting herself down on the cushioned bench, the dent in the corner of the wood still visible from their first meeting when she’d knocked it over onto its side from panic. 

Violet eyes glance down at the black and white keys with a gulp - her greatest friend in her darkest times of sorrow... yet also the cause of many of her biggest regrets and worries in life. 

She stalls for a moment to pick her train of hair up from the floor and let it unravel gently behind her on the bench, her cotton slippers kicked aside to place her feet upon the pedals that were propped up by a well used extender - a necessity due to her short stature. 

With stiff, slightly shaky fingers that now laid delicately upon the surface of the piano keys, Illya sharply inhales, and forces herself to quiet the raging thoughts of potential failure and humiliation as she presses down to play the first notes. 

Alphinaud stands behind her by the window, quiet so as to not disturb the girl... but even with his considerate silence, Illya could not help but be acutely aware of his eyes staring holes into the back of her head. She could only begin to imagine what he was thinking - and while she’s befriended him long enough to know he was a man who was above ridicule, she still hated to disappoint - especially the first person who has heard her play the piano for the first time in years. 

A symphony fills the apartment, bright as the rays of sunlight that shone through the window, making Illya’s starspun hair appear to glow like a halo. Like little bells, the piano sings out a melody that is as light as the air. It sounds easy on the ears, gentle and kind as the timid pianist who was weaving this piece into being with her fingers. 

And that was the problem.

Rachmaninoff composed Piano Concerto No 2 during some of the darkest moments of his life - the piece that would go on to save his career as a floundering, helpless musician had been written from the very pits of his own despair - a song of tragedy and sorrow that tells of a struggling pianist and composer who feared to lose the very thing that gave his life meaning; something many other aspiring musicians would surely understand... something Illya herself knew all too well.

And yet when Alphinaud listened to the piece being played, it conveyed none of that sadness, none of the essence of what made Concerto No 2 become such an iconic classical piece in history. 

Illya played without fault - that much he is certain. She’s taking great care to play the right notes, attentive to her own pace that would be fitting were a choir of violins and cellos playing after her tune. But he can tell, even without looking upon the tense, rigid scowl upon her face that she was focusing too much on the technicalities that she’s lost all of what made him so captivated with her playing before - a mistake that he himself has been criticized for countless times. 

Father has chided him for that before - praised him for being a genius and young violin paragon both while at the same time admonishing his lack of improvement even after three years of performing professionally - three years of the same critique that would come back to haunt him over and over again.

Music was more than playing perfectly - it was about the inflections, the subtleties in the way one moves their finger across the piano keys, or the way one draws a violin bow... The emotions that would stir one’s heart in a way only music would be able to convey and can never be properly emulated with computerized digital sound. 

When Alphinaud closed his eyes, he did not hear the disquiet of a child’s heart as he heard the echoes of church bells ringing on a Sunday morning... but, just as it is - a nervous pianist who was pressing keys because she was told to, because she is doubting herself. 

“Illya.” he calls her name, softly so as to not startle... but more importantly, to convey that he wasn’t mad, disappointed or upset with her - as she is wont to often assume. 

The piano stops abruptly, and the girl turns to look at him, her piercing stardust hued eyes shimmering with a glossy layer of worry - it suits her less than the rare blossoms of joy that sprouted in her eyes whenever she seemed to genuinely be enjoying his company.

“Y-Yes?” 

The young man pauses for a moment to casually stroll up beside her, before gesturing for the lady to move. Though confused, she scoots over to her right to allow him space on the bench, questioning expression apparent on her face about his intent.

When he sits, the close proximity between them brings him warmth, and he feels the corners of his lips instinctively pull into a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry, you must have been caught off guard with such an unreasonable request from me.” He apologizes before quickly holding up his hand when he sees the young lady’s lips part in an impulsive need to protest.. but it is quickly lowered when she draws back into herself and swallows her retort. “Maybe... a little warm up would be better before we move on to such a challenging piece.”

His slender fingers stretch, the pad of his index finger resting gently upon a D key, but not pressing down. 

Alphinaud has only the basic understanding of how a piano is played... and he has in the past tried to expand his musical repertoire to cover the undisputedly most popular classical instrument of all time, but he regrettably never quite got the time or chance to. But he is aware of a routine piano players would use to practice, not too dissimilar to the way violinists would warm up as well.

“May we perhaps practice scales? Just for a little while?”

The humility in his tone with his request compared to before doesn’t escape Illya’s notice, but she refrains from commenting on it as her eyes widen up at him.

“Um... s-sure.”

The hesitation in her response is only natural - after all he’d just challenged her to play a difficult piece of piano concerto only to reduce their practice down to repetitive scales - something even the most amateur of players could easily do. 

Perhaps he’d felt a tad sorry for his earlier forwardness and the not so subtle way he’d intimidated her into playing something she was clearly not completely comfortable performing for him.. and the only way he knew how to make amends was to correct the damage of his own transgression’s doing. 

Getting Illya to relax was important - not just for her music but for the sake of herself as well. If her Rapunzel length hair, lack of fresh foods in her pantry and well worn and weathered pink camise was any indication, the girl wasn’t the best at taking care of her own wellbeing in her pursuit for musical perfection. 

Illya’s shoulder is still relatively stiff as she begins to play, though not nearly as much as they were before while she was playing the concerto. Her fingers effortlessly glide across the keyboard to play an ascension of notes before moving back down. 

By the third repeat, she’s begun relaxing considerably and picking up speed, and her hands were moving with a practiced, ethereal fluidity that was akin to waves of the ocean... as were the sound of the notes being played - reminding Alphinaud of the push and pull of the tides upon a sandy shoreline. 

She transitions from C major to C minor, weaving in the scales of D-flat major and minor before the scales moves further and further up in pitch, so seamlessly that anyone who isn’t familiar with notes in the slightest would have trouble even realizing the switch in scales until she’s reached F major. 

In the face of something that comes naturally to Illya, she is at ease... and the piano is once more harmonizing in tune with her love for the instrument. 

It’s a not so subtle way of giving her a confidence boost, but Alphinaud claps as she finishes the B minor scale with a flick of her arms - and though her confusion is still apparent, he can tell just from the adorable tilt of her head that she’s relaxed now.

“Wonderful, Illya... It’s clear as crystal with the way you played how seasoned you are. I’d dare say you’re quite a prodigy yourself.”

Having a lofty title thrust onto her so suddenly without warning burns her cheeks a bright shade of red, and the girl is quick to shake her head.

“I-I... I appreciate it, Alphinaud... But I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Be that as it may...” He retorts before leaning forward to close the distance between them, his blue eyes swirling with a sincerity that begins to mirror in Illya’s bejeweled ones. “My praises are always truthful and well deserved. You’re a wonderful pianist, Illya.”

Something compels Alphinaud to continue speaking. Perhaps it was the twinkling of Illya’s eyes that held the radiantly clear reflection of himself within... or the dust of pink speckled upon her cheeks and across the width of her little button nose and pointed ears... or maybe it was the soft sound of air being inhaled through her barely parted lips - glossy, pink and befittingly cute for a woman of such beauty. But he deigns to open up his heart and speak his mind freely- he finds himself being able to do so more easily towards her than any other person for some reason.

“Besides... It was because of my own selfish desire to be able to hear you play that I offered to be your tutor. Being able to be by your side here like this and watch you play alone is an honor I would always treasure. So you needn’t be so afraid of playing how you wish to with me.”

When Alphinaud leans back, he finds the delightful cherry pink shade upon Illya’s face to have darkened, and her flustered quivering of her lips as him self-reflecting upon his own statement which causes him to dart his head to the side in an attempt to hide his own blooming blush.

Not that it’d be noticed by Illya in the first place, as she tilts her head down to hide her thoroughly embarrassed expression beneath the shadows of her white bangs. 

“I-I’m sorry. Maybe I said too much.” 

Illya doesn’t respond, and the young man is almost thankful she doesn’t... because he’s determined to force himself to recover and continue on with their practice.

Clearing his throat unabashedly, his head turns slowly back to look at the girl beside him.

“Well. Shall we continue? I could pick out an easier piece for you to try, this time.”

She nods, as halfheartedly as she did earlier when he’d asked her to perform  Rachmaninoff’s piece for him. And though her playing of Mozart was even more shaky, off-pace and lacking in original intent as it did with Piano Concerto No 2 before... Alphinaud could only acknowledge her efforts with an apologetic and bashful smile on his part... for the deep red flush upon Illya’s face never once dissipates during her performance. 

Nor does the trembling of her fingers - which, if nothing else, conveys the pounding of her racing heart more than clearly and loudly for him to hear. 

[thebigqueer]

Uhh I don’t know if you’re still taking fanfic prompts (if you ever were-sorry my Tumblr is MESSY) but uhhh I saw this headcanon where Nancy Bobofit is on a date with her boyfriend and sees Percabeth and is jealous of their relationship and your writing is pretty frickin good and if you’re not too busy if you could give your thoughts on this?

oh my god i remember seeing that headcanon on pinterest ahhh memories of my baby days ahahahahahahh but anyway yeah! sure!

(and yeah you’re fine. i’m still taking requests, but i have quite a few to get to so i’ll be taking a while to get through them.)

thank you for the prompt, and i hope you like this one! and, as always: i do little to no editing on these fic prompts, so please don’t be too judgmental on them because i’m not gonna be giving it my absolute best. 

Droplets of sunlight drip through the leaves, sprinkling over Percy and Annabeth in dapples of gold. A breeze gently caresses the demigods’ faces. Today, Percy and Annabeth soak in the afternoon sunlight, allowing the moisture of the air seep into their skins. Percy’s arm lies lazily over Annabeth’s shoulders as she draws her sketches.

Annabeth has been more focused on her work since the two have been planning on heading to New Rome in just a few weeks. She’s been working hard on new sketches, brilliant designs, muttering under her breath ideas to improve her structures. Percy's been watching her, admiring how easily she can brush past all her school work in just the matter of hours and turn right to her new designs. He supposes that’s because she’s truly passionate about it; of course she’d make time for it.

Percy, on the other hand, has been struggling quite a bit with time. He’s only ready to let go of this place, go on new adventures with his girlfriend and start making a new life for himself. He’s too focused on the future ahead of him, which means he hasn’t exactly spent too much time worrying about his own work. He knows he should keep up with it, but he’s already been accepted to the university. All he wants to do is think about that new future, about all the possibilities.

Percy twirls his fingers through Annabeth’s curls, feeling the softness under his fingertips. The golden locks spill out again, gleaming under the setting sun, and his breath hitches as he looks at her. Her tanned skin emanates a certain kind of glow as the sunlight drapes over her, and her gray eyes sparkle with an intensity he’s so used to seeing. She’s absolutely beautiful. 

He leans his head against her shoulder, a dopey smile coming across his face as her body heat seeps into his skin. Annabeth keeps doodling, and Percy keeps thinking about her, basking in this familiarity with her. 

This is just the way things are. It’s the way he always hopes them to be forever. 

~

Several feet away, by a different large tree, a girl sits by her own boyfriend. They’re turned away from the sunlight; only a shade spills over them. The girl’s usual flaming hair droops under the darkness, almost washed out of color. A hollow feeling spreads through her chest as she watches her boyfriend lie next to her, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm as he wastes away in his dreams. 

She isn’t sure why she feels this way. Why can’t she just be happy with him? Why does she have to feel these... feelings? 

As he dozes off, she finds that she’s able to slip away from him again, wander back to her own fantasies and daydreams. She thinks of the girl in her AP Stats class, the one who lent her a pencil the other day. They haven’t been friends long, but something about her strikes Nancy in her core; it’s a warm, gooey feeling, something she’s never quite felt before with anyone else.

Nancy sighs; she just doesn’t understand why she has to think about her right now. Isn’t she supposed to enjoy her time with her boyfriend? Why can’t she just... stop?

She watches over the landscape of the park, her eyes absorbing all the people, the colors, the vibrancy of the place. It seems as though only she lies in the shadows of the tree, isolated from the rest of the world.

As she roves over the features of the place, her dark eyes fix themselves upon a boy and a girl lazing around several feet in front of her, smiles gleaming under the golden sunlight. The boy lies over a blonde girl, his own darker hair falling into his eyes as he speaks to her. The girl’s mouth opens as she offers a silent laugh in response. They seem to be living in their own world, Nancy notes, but not in the same lonely isolation that she’s in. Their world is bright and warm and sunshiny, filled with an intimate laughter. 

Hers is dark and lonely, filled only with despair. 

A flame bursts in her, a hot rage that she had no idea she was capable of. Since sixth grade, she’s been working on her anger issues and kleptomania; she even stopped going to that stupid school. But now, as she watches them, she can’t help but to want to steal one more thing - their happiness. 

They watch each other adoringly in a manner that indicates that they’ve found some kind of comfort with in one other. Their eyes sparkle with love, with pure admiration, with something so profoundly happy that an even hotter burst of anger erupts in Nancy’s chest. Why can’t I have that? she wonders.

She thinks again of the girl in her AP Stats class. Nancy couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by her features the other day, the way her dark hair swooped gently over her eyes, the way her lips seemed permanently glued into a small, mischievous smile. She’d doodled on Nancy’s notebook, a little flower, and laughed quietly as if they were sharing a secret. 

Nancy looks over at her dozing boyfriend once more, watching his eyelids flutter as he slips farther and farther into his dreams. She knows she’d never be happy with him; she knows that she only started dating him for the sake of dating. She felt like she was falling behind on something, and she only wanted to catch up. 

She sighs, her breath blowing out into the Spring air. She leans back against the tree now, letting her head swivel left and right as she watches the people of New York City mill about, allow the sun to sprinkle over them. 

And then, just to the left, she spots her: the girl. Today she’s wearing white shorts over black tights, with a dark purple top to match. Her short hair flows dreamily with the gentle breeze, its dark wisps trying to keep pace with the current. A sweet, tingling laughter flows from her lips, drifting along with the wind. The soft sunlight catches her skin and a dim glow surrounds her skin. 

Almost as if she can sense Nancy staring at her, the girl’s head turns. For a moment, she merely stares at Nancy, not quite registering her. A beat of silence passes, and Nancy swears that her heart has stopped working. The air stills as if waiting for something to happen. 

And then the girl smiles brightly as recognition swoops over her features. Her mouth opens and moves, but her voice drowns out before it can reach Nancy. Nancy shakes her head, confusion written over her features. The girl, after thinking for a moment, pulls out her phone and taps furiously over it. 

A moment later, Nancy’s phone pings with a new text:

Claire The Stat Sage: hey!!! wanna come over here? we’re doing a small picnic!! you can bring the bf too!!!

Nancy reads the text several times, absorbing each letter, letting the words imprint themselves over her mind. Some exhilarating burst of joy gleams within her chest, bright enough to rival the sun. Her blood tingles underneath her skin, saturated with excitement. 

For a second, she contemplates the invitation. Should she bring her boyfriend? Nancy turns her head to him, watching for a movement, watching for some kind of opposition. 

When he doesn’t move, she makes her decision. 

She steps forward, towards Claire, the warmth of the Spring evening blanketing her in its comfort. 

Claire smiles at her as she approaches. “Hey! You didn’t bring your boyfriend?”

A pang of guilt strikes Nancy, wondering if perhaps it was a better idea to just wake him up and bring him. But then she gazes past Claire, towards the sun, basking under the glory of it.

She likes not being under the shadows of the trees anymore. 

Shrugging, she plops down, a small smile floating over her lips. “He’s sleeping. He can catch up when he wants to.” 

[imissjoongsmullet]

Something Better (1/2)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: fluff/angst (will lead to smut eventually because hi hello it’s me writing about Chan)

Summary: You and Chan have been best friends since before you can remember but now that you’re in college, things start to feel strange, especially with the way he acts when it comes to your boyfriend.

Read part 2

Warnings: part 1 of 2 (probably), cutesy friendship stuff, lots of stupid banter, bit of suggestive conversations, a good dash of angst, Changbin as your boyfriend (do you need a warning for that lol), oh and though this one is pretty clean, there will be smut in later chapters.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: Ok so I’m going to try to keep this to 2 chapters but I can’t promise anything. Anyone who follows me knows I tend to get carried away it’s a thing... Also, yes, this is such a cliché trope but BOY DO I LOVE IT! Thanks again for the request. I had a great time writing this!

► 

Five minutes to four. Almost there. The old man at the front of the auditorium had been droning on about the history of bleebidiblah wherever for the past two hours and you were very much ready for it all to end and for the weekend to begin. You heard a pencil drop beside you and turned to see your friend pick it back up and place it between his upper lip and nose.

“Looking great,” you whispered, fighting back a smile.

“I know,” he snickered, making the thing drop into his lap for the dozenth time that class.

Chan was kind of an idiot. But he was also kind of your best friend. You’d grown up in the same neighborhood and had been inseparable since kindergarten. He was the first person you’d went to when you’d found out Santa wasn’t real, the first person you’d ever sneaked out of the house to go to a party with and the first person you’d ever gotten blackout drunk with; not to mention he was the only one who knew about your irrational fear of oven toasters. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him. You were a team, tied together so much so, that you’d even decided to follow each other to the same college.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder, “how about we go downtown tonight and celebrate the weekend? I heard it’s prolonged happy hour at GB’s.”

The twinkle in his eyes made you want to say yes; it was a very tempting offer. “Can’t,” you replied eventually, scrunching up your nose at him.

“Come on, why not?” said Chan, leaning in and shaking your thigh, “we can go to karaoke after and you can crash at my place. I bought so many Doritos and they’re not gonna eat themselves.”

You bit your lip. “I kind of promised Changbin I’d go over tonight.” You already knew what was coming.

“Again?” he exclaimed a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of some of the other students, “you stayed over like three times this week already.” He sagged in his chair, rolling his eyes at you.

“Don’t be a child,” you retorted shoving him lightly.

That put some of his smile back in place. “You know, I think this Changbin guy isn’t the one for you,” said Chan, pretending to look pensive, “he’s got shifty looking eyes… and his nose is too big.”

You couldn’t keep from chuckling. Dipping down in your chair out of sight of your teacher, you turned to your friend. “You’re so full of shit, what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe he’s having evil, shifty, big-nosed plans and you don’t even know it.”

“Your nose is big too, you know?” you said, pinching his nose.

He slapped your hand away and pinched you back, which made you cry out so loud the teacher went silent, eyes in your direction. Your cheeks flushed hot but just as you were about to apologize to the entire auditorium, the bell rang, pushing everyone around you into motion.

“Oops,” said Chan, eyes full of mischief as he rose from his chair along with everyone else.

You packed your things and followed him, kicking at his heels pettily.

“Seriously though, all the staying over,” Chan went on once you were out in the packed hallway, “sure he isn’t tiring you out?” The wicked grin on his face told you exactly what he meant.

“Chan, I swear if you don’t shut up,” you started but he interrupted fast.

“I just mean, you’re a studious girl,” he explained, grabbing your shoulders and rubbing them, “you can’t have a shifty-eyed boy like him distract you from your super important studies with sexy times.”

“And you taking me out to GB’s is helping me with my studies how exactly?”

“At least I’m not trying to put my dick in you every single night.”

“Chan!” you yelled out, looking around frantically at all the other students within earshot of your conversation.

“Aww,” Chan chuckled, hugging you closer, putting his lips near your ear, “you’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”

You were extremely happy he was behind you and couldn’t see the look on your face because you were even redder than before, staring eyes-wide into space. For as close and you and Chan were, you couldn’t help but feel shy whenever he mentioned sexual stuff around you. Not that you weren’t a sexual person; you just didn’t really know how to act around him when it came to those things. It didn’t help that you felt him all over you now, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand right up.

“Listen,” you said, shrugging out of his grip and trying to compose yourself, “how about we hang out tomorrow night? I’m sure the drinks will be just as toxic and delicious then.”

He came up next to you. “Fine, but you’re buying,” he said, “you’ve been leaving me lonely far too much. I demand compensation.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Fine.”

[I’ll be there in 10]

You hurriedly typed as you left Changbin’s place. You were meeting Chan for coffee. You were supposed to work on an assignment together that afternoon but you felt more than a little distracted after the previous night hadn’t ended up as fun as you’d hoped. You didn’t even really remember how it had started but you and Changbin had gotten into an argument that had lasted for most of the night. It wasn’t anything heartbreaking; it was just frustrating that your relationship wasn’t going the way you’d imagined it. And now you’d have to face Chan and pretend everything was okay because you were far too prideful to give him the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’.

He was waiting at your typical spot in the back of the café, his notebook ready on the table. You were happily surprised to find him jotting things down as you walked up. When you sat down, however, you realized he’d just been doodling obscenities in the margins of his book.

“Good afternoon,” you said, closing his book and grabbing the coffee he’d ordered for you.

You felt his eyes on you as you sipped the burning hot drink. You were just waiting for it at this point.

“So,” he started, amusement dripping down his face, “how was last night?”

“Shut up,” you countered, opening up your own book and looking anywhere but at him.

You and Chan were used to working together. Chan always had problems focusing and you were always there to give him the kick in the ass he needed to get the work done. On the other hand, Chan was the one coming up with the most creative ideas for your projects so, despite your differences, you worked quite well off of each other. 

For a while, things were fine: Chan was on his second coffee and the ideas flowed generously; you just had to write them down and turn them into usable content. Things were nice and light as they should be. You took a break and ordered waffles, enjoying them without any mention of Changbin; it was great. You talked about concerts you were excited to go to together in the coming months, showed each other movie trailers of stuff you really wanted to watch together and you laughed at the absolute dumbest things. You thought perhaps it was the caffeine that was making you both so silly.

Unfortunately, after that initial boost of energy, came the inevitable crash.

By the time Chan was picking at the ice at the bottom of his empty third coffee, things were started to shift. You were trying to finish up the assignment but it was clear Chan was starting to get burnt out. Gradually, conversation trickled away from the project at hand and into less productive territory.

“What is it you like about him?” he asked, staring zombie-like into his cup.

“Not now, Chan,” you sighed, eyes on your laptop screen. You felt his fingers at your side, poking lazily.

“No, come on,” he said, voice sleepy, “I wanna know.”

You stopped typing and took a deep breath.

“He’s—” you started, trying to think of something while your head replayed how you’d argued the night before.

Chan let out a chuckle. “Yeah, he sounds great.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned, a little harsher than you’d meant it, “let’s just get this done.”

But Chan didn’t let up. Your inability to define your love for Changbin had apparently made him very eager to tease you and it was getting harder and harder to ignore him.

“I bet he sleeps with his socks on,” he said, sipping his empty drink loudly, “weirdo.”

“Chan please.”

“Tell me he doesn’t.”

“Chan.”

“He totally does, doesn’t he!”

“Chan I swear if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick you where it really hurts!”

“Fine,” he said, still laughing, putting up his hands in defense, “jeez, I was just having fun.” Then he came closer and, entirely oblivious, wrapped his arms around you tight. “No more coffee for you, it makes you mean.” He gave your temple a quick kiss and, chuckling, got up from his seat.

“Gotta pee, this coffee is going right through me, be right back.” 

It occurred to you, as you watched him walk off, how odd your relationship with Chan was. Or maybe Chan was just an odd person? Or maybe he was simply acting oddly recently? You tried to shrug off the confusing thoughts and instead opened up your phone. The last text from Changbin was right at the top. You clicked it and smiled, rereading the sweet message he’d sent you the day before. You should probably make up with him soon, you decided.

After another half hour of half-assed adjustments, you and Chan finally called it a day.

“If you could input your slides right after mine, I’ll do the touch ups and bring it all to class,” you said, staring at your laptop screen, “we should probably go over it together the day before though.”

Chan’s face was in his arms on the table, looking drowsy. “Yeah, sounds good,” he mumbled, “I’ll type them out by Monday, we’ve got most of the stuff down already, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Good,” you nodded, finally letting yourself sit back and relax. You closed your eyes in a long yawn as you stretched out your arms. When you opened them again Chan was looking at you.

“Tired huh?” he said, his lips curling up into a knowing smirk.

You stared back at your friend blankly. “You know what? Yes, I am actually. I stayed up most of the night.”

His eyebrows rose up in surprise but he didn’t speak.

“And that’s all I’m gonna say on the matter so can we please wrap this up now?” you added, “I think I should go see Changbin later tonight cause— well, we just have some things to discuss.”

“Wait, hold up,” said Chan, straightening up beside you and, finally, all laughter was wiped from his face, “I thought we were going out tonight.”

The memory of your promise hit you, throwing a small dose of guilt over your head. “I’m sorry, Chan, really. I just got some things to do—”

“Some things to do?” he interrupted, now definitely irritated, “you’re gonna ditch your best friend for some mediocre sex?”

“Chan that’s not what this is,” you started but you knew you’d set him off and there was no going back.

“Whatever,” he snapped, “it’s fine I’ll call some people who actually wanna hang out—”

“Chan—” you tried, shocked at the rapidity with which his mood had switched.

“—instead of someone who’ll leave me for the first boy to give her the least bit of attention—”

“Hey!” you said, getting up from your seat, heating up from the sting of his words.

Chan got up as well, the look in his eyes pained. “I said it’s fine,” he repeated, placing some money on the table and walking out.

(part 2)

[birdwonder]

headcanon the joestars on how they would react to an artist s/o like always painting, drawing and giving them like a painting of them they worked on?? thank u 💕

|| I don’t do part 5 or further requests yet, and I’m taking Joestars as in the Jojo’s, but I think I know Giorno somewhat enough to throw him in ! Also, cuuute request.

Part 1-5 Jojo’s | Artist S/O Headcanons 

Jonathan Joestar

- As one would expect, he is incredibly supportive of your talent! All of your family/couple portraits are hung up in the hallways and even a few landscape ones too to keep things looking lively. His favourite above all favourites would go above the fire place however, which is probably a painting of the two of you that you had gifted him on your anniversary.

- He cherishes it more than most possessions he owns, and when he’s warming up by the crackling flames, he can’t help but smile at it. That’s your hard work and your effort up there, and any house guests will know it as soon as he shows it to them. 

- Honestly, he doesn’t want to request anything from you as he feels as though anything that you gift him that comes from your mind and heart alone is far more valuable to him. Besides, he wouldn’t really know what to ask for aside from another portrait of you to hang somewhere that wasn’t taken up.

- During the spring and summer seasons, you take the time to set up an easel, canvas and paint set in the garden to have some fresh air and gather new inspiration. Even if you haven’t even gotten far into the piece, Jonathan will eventually come out the house with two cups of tea and stand behind you, bending down to lightly kiss your temple as he’s afraid anything more passionate would interrupt your creative process or cause your finger to slip. He would then ask for you to take a break and sit with him at a table to enjoy the view together, so the two of you can talk about your future painting plans and how his studies in archeology are going. Mutual respect for each other’s interests is an essential ingredient in any relationship.

- “Oh, look at your hands! No matter, we’ll just have to wash them once we’re inside,” is something he says before you realise that a tea cup you were holding had been smudged with a variety of green’s and blue’s from your fingertips. You apologise profusely in which he shakes his head at with a chuckle. “It’s alright, my love. I think it makes them look far more unique now! No china set in the world could look like this.”

- Skip 100 years into the future and your paintings may be in a gallery with a small “to Jonathan” written in the corner.

Joseph Joestar

- Definition of “Paint me like one of your french girls.~”

- Definitely suggests a nude painting of him. Or you. Or the two of you together, whether it be a joke or he’s somewhat serious.

- He’s amazed by your talent! Including your patience. He probably wouldn’t be able to sit still for long enough to even paint an abstract tree, so he has nothing but respect for your artistry. 

-If you were to ever gift him a drawing, he’d be stunned. Does he even deserve to own one of your pieces? Was this a declaration of love? Because he’s accepting it with a hard kiss to your lips and a string of ‘thank you’’s and compliments.

- One day, you had a serious artist block and had no idea what to paint leaving you stumped and staring at a blank canvas in despair. The lack of spark in your eyes that you usually had when painting hurt Joseph, so as a foolish attempt to help, he grabbed a bottle of one of your haunts and squirted it all over his hand.

- You gasped in response, about to scold him on the price of the paints when he suddenly slapped it smack middle of the canvas. “Joseph! Those cost a lot!”

- “Yeah but it’s fun! C’mon try it! Get your creative juices flowing or whatever you art folk say!” Taking your hand, he squirted a different colour onto it which made you giggle cutely as the cold sensation. He then guided it next to his bright hand print, pressing your palm down.

- It looked adorable and gave you an idea.

- With a smile, and a promise from Joseph that he’d buy you more paint later, the two of began to spread more paints onto your hands and continued to cover the canvas mindlessly with your prints.

- By the end of it, the two of who are laughing and even smearing paint on each other’s faces, leading to some squeals and hilarious facial features. 

- Sure, it wasn’t want you had initially wanted to go for, but with a carefully painted on “Joseph and [F/N]” written underneath the first two handprints that were made, you knew that the sentimental value of the piece was far greater than anything else you could have made.

Jotaro Kujo

- He has no reason to be against your talent and doesn’t have enough words and facial expressions to his name to show how impressed he is with you.

- Though that slightly changes when you hand him your sketch book one day, a bashful look on your face as you fear for the worst reaction from him.

- Inside are a multitude of sketches and even fine lined pieces of him, some with and without Star Platinum if you can see him, all carefully and accurately drawn in your own style. You even remembered to add the pin on his hat and his earrings...

- Jotaro could only blush brightly and cough into his hand to compose himself. “It’s good... I like it.” An understatement really, because if you let him keep even a page, he’ll be sure to keep it safe somewhere but no where obvious so his mother or grandfather don’t tease him for it. 

- If you ask him to pose for anything, he’ll want to decline and might even do so the first few times, though with some begging he may do some poses in your home, with the assurance that no one will barge in. Only casual ones though, so he doesn’t have to strain or embarrass himself.

- Buying presents for you is considerably easy as there’s always some sort of pen or paint set he can get to add to your wide range of media, all of which you are grateful for and gush over even though you tell him that buying them is unnecessary.

- “Have you considered doing an art major?” If you say yes, he supports you completely but warns you of the stresses and the harsh reality of the art world when it came to work.

Josuke Higashikata

- Ooh, is he going to show you off.

- “Yo Rohan Sensei! Sure you can draw that manga of your’s but can you draw THIS?”

- He might get killed or have his destiny rewritten by a certain stand user, but he knows it’s worth it when it comes to you. Have you seen your own art? It’s incredible !

- Most likely, he finds out by seeing you doodle in class and his jaw completely drops that your maths work sheet was instead covered in drawings of amazing bodies and plant life. If you insist that they’re nothing and “they’re just sketches,” he will personally shake you senseless and talk your ear off telling you that they are amazing. 

- Gifting him any kind of artistic media makes him overjoyed. Josuke shoves it in Okuyasu’s face, much to the delinquent’s dismay, and hugs you to death for the gift. “Aw babe, you really didn’t have to!”

- If you’re ever stressing over the quality of your work, he reminds you that you are amazing at what you do and that everyone has their own style, so that comparing yourself to others just wasn’t fair on you. 

- He plays a personal game where each day he tries to guess how much pen or paint you have your hand by the end of the day. Usually on weekends, it’s a lot more.

Giorno Giovanna 

- There’s a good chance that you met because of your work.

- You’re in a particularly beautiful Italian city, either sitting on a stool or ledge with a canvas or book in front of you, your hand working away at the landscape before you.

- While he was on a relaxing stroll, Giorno stopped behind you and peered over your shoulder, his breath taken away by how accurate your piece was to every exact detail.

- “Bellissimo...” He whispered, causing you to jolt a little and quickly turn around to look at him, a flushed or embarrassed look on your face. Oh, you’re cute.

- Right after he apologised for startling you and praises you for your work, which only flusters you more that such a handsome boy was complimenting you, you offered for him to sit next to you. Perhaps for you to even draw him?

- He doesn’t refuse.

- Once you’re dating, he takes you wherever you want whenever he can so you can draw the scenery, and shows you more gorgeous places to draw and even suggests what sort of people to draw. He also supports you doing something out of your comfort zone, for example if you typically liked to only sketch, he’d suggest for you to paint or use chalk in another style to see if it improves your skill as a whole.

- When he’s a don, he asks for you to paint or draw him so that he can hang it somewhere in an expensive frame to make his work place appear more serious and clear that he was the boss.

- If you do so, he thanks you a hundred times and buys you anything you want and as much as you want. Giorno also makes sure to repay you physically with a night out and kisses with a goodnight cuddle. 

- He might keep a small sketch of the two of you in his inside jacket pocket or draw so that every time he took it out during work, he’d be reminded of you and how you met, which motivated him to get the job done quick so he could go home to see you.

[03sonika05]

CRUSH

Beomgyu x reader ;Fluff, soulmate au

Requested by: anon

The doodles you draw on your body appear on your soulmate’s skin

“Oh my god what is so funny!?”, you asked your friend for the hundredth time. She was clearly struggling to hold in her laughter, and at this point, you were this close to pushing her off her chair. “Y-y/n. Your face”, she gasped out. Feeling even more confused than before,and slightly offended, you ran to the bathroom. You could hear some people whispering and staring on your way there.

“No. Way.” You gasped as you saw your reflection in the mirror. There was a huge “HELLO” written on your forehead with a black marker. You quickly took some soap and tried to scrub your face. But it wouldn’t come off. You knew instantly that this wasn’t an ordinary doodle. Your soulmate had done this. Your soulmate, who could be anyone and anywhere, had done this. You could hardly believe your eyes. After all, soulmates were pretty rare these days, and hardly anyone you knew had met theirs.

It had taken you a lot of courage to do this. Taking a deep breath, you took a marker, and wrote on your hand. “Hi! I’m y/n.” You had no idea if he would actually get the message, but it was worth a try. It turned out that he did, because only a minute later, a reply came. “I’m Beomgyu. It’s so nice to meet you!”

You and Beomgyu became friends really quickly. It was impossible not to be, since the two of you talked everyday using the doodles. You found out that he lived miles away, loved ice cream, was bad at sports and wanted to become a singer. You told him everything- how your day went, your dreams and hopes, and even mundane things like what you ate for lunch. Everyday, you wished you could see him. The fact that the two of you might not meet for a long time made you sad.

The school bell rang loudly, effectively waking you up from your mini nap in class. As you got up, you realised that most of the students had left, and it was just you, and another guy. It was wierd. You had never seen him before. After all, you probably would have remembered someone as cute as him. “He must be new”, you thought to yourself.

Despite trying very hard, you coudn’t help but develope a little crush on the new guy. It made no sense, because you hadn’t even spoken to him. But still, you found yourself staring at him in class, hoping to talk to him. Once, you glanced at him, only to find that he was already looking at you. With a burning face, you quickly turned away.

As the days went by, you felt yourself more and more agitated by this crush of yours. It wasn’t a good thing. What about beomgyu? He was your soulmate. He was the only one you should crush on. Not the new guy. No matter how fluffy his hair looks, how bright his smile is, or how soft his voice sounds when he answers in class, you simply shoudn’t think about him in that way.

You should not have come to school. Your head was spinning, and you felt faint. You wanted to go to the nurses office, but you felt too weak. Unfortunately, there was no one else in the corridor, most of the students were in class. You simply leaned against your locker and slid down to sit on the floor.

“H-hey, are you okay?”. You looked up to see a pair of big brown eyes looking down at you with concern. You didn’t know exactly how long you had been sitting in the floor, but you knew it wasn’t that long. “Y/n? Can you stand up?”. You knew that voice. It was the new guy. You opened your mouth to answer, but no sound came out. Crap. Not now!! Before you could nod your head, your vision blacked out.

You kept staring at your hand, waiting for beomgyu to reply. You were quite eager to tell him about what had happened that day. You secretly hoped he would give you some sympathy and attention. The part about the new guy apparently carrying you to the nurses office, you would leave out.

You entered your class feeling a little nervous. As expect, beomgyu had showered you with concerned and kind words. He was so sweet. Which is why it felt wrong, walking up to the new guy. “You’re just thanking him, y/n. There’s nothing wrong with that”, you thought. You started walking towards him as soon as you caught his gaze. However, before you could do that, the teacher walked in. So you settled on giving him a little smile, which he did not return. Huh. His hospitality was only reserved for damsels in distress, apparently.

You hadn’t spoken to beomgyu in days. You had no idea why he wouldn’t reply to you. Did you scare him away? Did he not want you to be his soulmate? You had spend so long worrying about everything that you didn’t even notice as new guy took the seat next to you. “Um, are you okay? You looked a bit sad.”

“Yes of course, I’m fine.” You gave him a forced smile. Except. You weren’t . You felt rejected by the one person who was supposed to accept all of you. “Well”, the new guy said, “I just really hope everything works out y/n.” You didn’t know what you were more surprised by- the fact that he knew your name or the fact that he saw right through your smile. His soft voice didn’t really help your crush situation.

Maybe you didn’t deserve beomgyu. Maybe he sensed that you liked another person. It it was different with that guy. That was just a crush. You were pretty sure you loved beomgyu. Well it doesn’t matter now. You’ve probably lost him for good. You sighed as you looked up at the grey sky. You were just glad to be alone at the moment. The school grounds were empty since most people had gone home.

You looked down, only to come face to face with a pair of soft brown eyes. Great. The more you try to stay away from him the more he came closer. “Uh...hey. I saw you sitting out here alone y/n, so I thought I’d join you.” You almost gave in to his soft voice. You really did. But then you caught sight of the smudged marks on your arm, and something in you snapped.

“Why?” He seemed surprised at your harsh tone. “Why do you keep worrying about me? I have a soulmate, you know. Worrying is his job!! And me crushing on you only seems to be driving him away!! So yeah. Goodbye.” You were surprised to find that tears were flowing down your face. You didn’t even notice that you had started crying. But, your confusing emotions, mixed with the fact that you desperately missed your soulmate was too much to handle.

“I’m so sorry y/n. I- I never should have ignored you. But when I found out it was you...i just got so scared. Please don’t cry y/n. Not because of me.” You looked back to see his face contorted with sadness. Desperation.

As he lifted up the sleeve of his shirt, your eyes widened in disbelief. His arm was filled with words written in your handwriting. Your messages, the little faces you drew, they were all there. Overcome by surprise, relief and joy, all you could do was wipe your tears and take his outstretched hand.

[tiredkeys]

Strider Bros with an s/o who’s very used to pain, but laughs it off

i have a request, if that's ok!! the strider bros with someone who's very used to pain and getting beat up and covered in bandaids/bandages daily?? but she laughs it off and no matter how hurt she gets, she's always so kind and trusting towards others and very physically affectionate. she acts pretty memey and breezy alot of times, but she will try and fight back if someone tries to hurt those she loves,,ahh sorry if this is too much, i kinda projected here,,,sorryy

Requested by anon

Oops this one is really long, I really enjoyed this and got a little carried away...

Requests are open!

Dave

Oh man

Oh man oh man

He got this exact same treatment from bro and he is devastated you have so many bandages on you all the time

Like? You both are out with some friends and someone twists their ankle

And you, at the speed of light, have some bandage out and their foot is fixed up in no time

On god, he almost starts crying on the spot because only boy scouts are supposed to know that and he knows you needed to know how to patch yourself up but you shouldn’t have needed to repair yourself so quickly and GOD

Honestly, he’s convinced you don’t have a right elbow because it always has a colorful bandaid on it

Speaking of bandaids, sometimes he’ll draw stars or hearts or just doodle on ones that cover paper cuts or that are wrapped around your fingers

He always asks first and he’s just so careful

When y’all first got together, you learned very quickly that he is NOT physically affectionate

He loves you so so much, and he hates it that his instinct is to flinch away when you brush up against him or go to hold his hand

It takes him quite a while, waiting for you to initiate and several sweaty palms that he doesn’t quite know what to do with, but when he does get comfortable showing affection around you? He’s so touchy

He’s not a huge fan of PDA (the cool kid facade is still strong) but in private, he just want cuddles and he wants them now

But he’s so so gentle, especially when you have new injuries

Often times, he will hold your arm and trace some older scars you have while y’all watch movies

And even when he accidentally puts too much pressure on a new cut, or his pointy elbows hit a soft spot, you’re smiling at him and cracking jokes while he apologizes for the next ten minutes

He’s baffled by you in the best way possible

He sees someone you care about being bullied for something and you are up and defending them SO FAST

It looks like you’re a hair’s breadth away from throwing punches 

And he’s astounded

The change in you demeanor was so fast

And his first instinct is to be worried, then the bully leaves, and he’s still worried

But god he is so proud of you

I mean, he’s seen some of the bruises you have

But you just are so trusting and nice and soft towards others, you have no bitterness in your heart and he has no idea how you do it

Your constant vulnerability so revolutionary to him 

One time, he accidentally walked in on you touching up your bandages

This beating was particularly bad, injuries stretching from just below your collarbone to around your ribs into your lower back

And he cannot move

He’s stuck in the doorway for a solid minute before you notice him

Shooting him your most convincing smile, some sluggish finger guns and a quick jipe you’re back to fixing yourself

“All these colors are really making me look like a piece of art, aren’t they?”

Oh my god he doesn’t know what to do

He just stands there until you’re done

“Who did this to you?”

Whether its a guardian, bully, or just a stranger, his heart still drops

He’ll make sure you are as comfortable as possible, in bed with snacks, drinks and a book or movie

He’ll crawl in next to you and pretend to be invested in whatever you are doing

But he’s crying

It’s hard to tell because he still has his shades on, and you don’t actually notice until you see him swiping at his face

You have to push his glasses up into his hair so he will look you in the eye

Y’all talk a lot that night

You wake  in the morning and bathed in the sunlight and Dave wrapped around you like a blanket of protection

And you are safe

Dirk

I mean, he’s had his fair share of fighting robots so he’s pretty scared up right along with you

He’ll totally be up for comparing scars and stories about them

You got any you’re insecure about? He might not know how to comfort you but he will most definitely sit down with you and try and distract you

He sometimes forgets that you are as used to pain as he is and it's like a cold slap when you get hurt and shake it off

I mean, your pain tolerance is through the roof

You get hurt, say something like, oh this is nothing and he’s like so?? We are getting you patched up

And he will pick you up and will not let you move until you are fully bandaged, even if he knows you can do it yourself

On the flip side of that, when he gets busted up, he is always starstruck when you pull out the proper medical equipment and heal him up

Fixing up his twisted wrist, and he’s just staring at you because you’re just so gentle and caring with him, he feels so safe

Whenever he makes his own bandages and splints, he always ended up wrapping them up a little too tight, not enough to actually cut off blood flow, but enough that it was always more uncomfortable than it needed to be

Once, someone tried to pick a fight with him, and he just kinda squared up and went “ight i'm going to get decked this time”

And you BUST DOWN to DEFEND HIS HONOR and it's so scary

The offender? Flees so quickly at the sight of you, in a rage, and this anime character lookin dude, about to be in a rage because that kind of passion is contagious 

But he’s so oblivious to your advances it isn’t even funny

He’s a little caught in his self-hate to even consider that you might be into him

Because what on Earth would you ever see in him?

Also, he is not a touchy person!!

He has -5 experience with physical contact and he will literally jump out of your arms he is so perturbed

You go into hug him one time and he zips off so fast and you don’t see him for quite a while

Did you move too fast? Did you hurt him?

Nope, he’s just cooling himself down

Despite his best efforts, he can not keep a cool face around you

Even when you’re gently punching his arm or touching his shoulder as you brush past, he will get so flustered so fast. There's just nothing he can do about it

One time, you cornered him about it

Not even flash stepping could save this fellow from your onslaught of questions

Does he hate you? You stopped your bigger physical affections long ago and while you know that he really doesn’t get a lot of that but would he like you to stop? It’s alright if he does, you’d just like some verbal confirmation. I mean, you really really like him and your love language is touch, but if he isn’t okay with it he isn’t okay! And if he doesn’t reciprocate your romantic sentiments towards you, it’s all alright! He shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything he doesn’t want and... Man, you’ve really gotten off track here. You’ve said far too much but you mean all of it. Is he okay?

Even with the added defenses of his tinted glasses and his rock-hard demeanor, you can see he’s shaking

This, to you, is not a good sign and you begin to backpedal like HELL

While you’re chattering away, he is going over his options in his head after it stopped yelling and the list looks like this:

You’re lying to him and this is a joke

You’re not lying, but would be miserable in a relationship with him

You’re not lying and both of you would put the effort into a relationship and it would be beautiful

He decides to take his chances

Grasping your wrists to effectively stop the word soup spewing out of you, he lets you know how he feels

He also really likes you, like… you know… but it terrifies him, just like you do! You’re always beat up and those weak excuses really won’t work much longer, and you care so much and that’s so scary, so breathtakingly scary, and you’re so funny and easy to talk to and he knows he’s not used to touching people, or just people at all, but if you'd like to teach him, that’d be okay. Someone has to watch your back, anyways. 

And that’s the whole story right there, folks

Stay safe! Thank you for reading!

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, facialteeth!

For @facialteeth <3

When your soulmate loses something it gets sent to you and vice versa. For almost 400 years Magnus thought he would never have a soulmate until one day a pacifier shows up in his loft.

Read On AO3

*****

Who Are You Really?

Magnus stares at the pacifier in his hand. He doesn’t recall anyone bringing a baby to his loft recently. He doesn’t take in as many clients due to his position as High Warlock. He’s pretty sure he would remember a baby being in his home.

Thinking nothing of it, he sets it down on the side table in his living room and goes back to work. The Circle may be disbanding and shadowhunters are getting arrested, but there are still attacks happening in New York and the Institute has asked for his help in tracking the remaining Circle members.

Magnus snorts at his own phrasing. The Institute more so demanded that he help them. He of course made sure to set his price high for what he expected in return. The new Heads weren’t going to make him bend the knee to their every request. He was going to make life extremely difficult for the Lightwoods. They may have been forgiven by the Clave, but Magnus will never forget what they did. 

Without looking up from his cauldron, he reaches for an ingredient on his shelf, and instead of touching the vial he knows is there, a soft fabric brushes his hands. He whips his head up from the cauldron and stares at the blanket draped over the shelf. Not just any blanket, a child’s blanket- no an infant’s blanket. 

Magnus stares at the cloth for so long that his brewing potion is now ruined. He doesn’t care though, not when there’s something more important to focus on. With a shaky breath and hand, he grasps the blanket. It’s so incredibly soft in his hands, the fabric is perfectly suitable for a baby. Not just any baby though Magnus realizes, his soulmate’s. His soulmate must have just turned two, when most soulmates start to receive their partner’s lost items.

A sob escapes his lips and he presses the blanket to his face. 

Four hundred years, it took four hundred years for his soulmate to be born. Magnus had lost hope such a long time ago of ever getting one. Each year that passed with nothing showing up around had him made him lose hope. And after everything Camile did to him, the manipulation, the gaslighting, stealing his items, and pretending that they were soulmates, Magnus swore to never open his heart again.

Now here is this pacifier and blanket in his loft, letting him know that love will not be lost to him. That there is someone out there that is made for him. He scrunches his face at that thought. His soulmate is a baby, he shouldn’t be thinking like that, not yet. He still has many years to go, but Magnus will gladly wait as long as it takes to meet them.

“Oh god my soulmate is a baby and I’m a warlock,” he says out loud to no one. He glances in horror at the state of his apothecary. Everything is everywhere, the minute he forgets one thing it’s going to teleport to a baby. 

Potion forgotten, Magnus starts to clean his apothecary with precision, making sure that everything is labeled and in a proper place that is easy to find. The last thing he needs is to kill a baby, let alone his soulmate. 

“You better not die because of me,” he demands, glaring at the pacifier and blanket now resting in a case in his bedroom.

The first six years are filled with anxiety on Magnus’ end. His friends made fun of him at first, thinking he had finally gone mad. When he showed them the items, they rightly shut up and even occasionally helped him if he was looking for something for a potion. None of them wanting to be responsible for the death of his soulmate. This is the happiest they have seen him in a long time, if it means portaling at ungodly hours of the night to help him find something before it disappears then so be it.

Magnus did have fun “accidentally” losing toys for his soulmate to have and play with. He has no idea if his soulmate actually uses anything that he finds, he hopes that he does. While Magnus is sure that his soulmate’s parents spoiled their child to no end, Magnus was never one to not spoil someone important to him.

Somehow Magnus knew that the exciting thrill was never going to last. His soulmate would be eight now. He glances at the calendar on the wall, a big red circle around September 12th. Magnus had made sure to mark the date after he got a hold of his emotions all those years ago. 

He’s debating on what to send an eight year old child on their birthday. He’s been good about getting gender neutral toys for his soulmate, not knowing if they are a boy or girl. He’s going through a catalog on his phone when he spots a piece of paper on the coffee table. It's flipped upside down but Magnus can see some dark ink on the other side of the paper.

His soulmate must be doodling or drawing and forgotten something they made for their birthday. Magnus reaches out and grabs the paper flipping it over to inspect the drawing.

The paper bursts into flames by his magic.

No that- that can’t be right. Magnus just saw the paper wrong, he must have. There’s no possible way that was what he thought it was. He gets a second chance to see when another paper appears on his coffee table. He feels himself starting to fall apart as he reaches for the sheet and flips it over. He recognizes the marking anywhere.

Iratze

The paper once again catches fire from his barely contained magic. Magnus feels his throat tighten and his breath getting shorter. Shadowhunter. His soulmate is a shadowhunter, his mind provides. He feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. Of all the people living on this earth, his soulmate had to be of the people who have hunted and killed his kind for hundreds of years. 

Magnus barks out a wet laugh, immediately summoning a drink from his cart and downing it in one go. The glass is already refilled as he watches more papers appear on the table, more runes scribble on them. He doesn’t know how many times he refills his glass, but he got the desired effect he wanted: numbness. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s stared at those papers, drinking his pain away. He can barely sit up at this point with the alcohol flowing through his system. He can’t remember the last time he got this drunk. He’s been better since Camille, not wanting to go that far again. He hears the door to his loft open. Was he expecting guests? He doesn’t remember, doesn’t care. The intruder could rob him for all he cared.

“Well you look awfully dreadful,” a familiar British voice says. “Is this why you’ve been ignoring my calls and I had to take the long way in?” 

“Ragnor,” Magnus slurs, he tilts his head towards his friend. The small movement makes him nauseous, it takes everything in not to immediately stumble to the bathroom to throw up.

“What is it this time?” His friend sighs dramatically. Ragnor glances around the room, glaring at something out of his field of view. “Obviously something has upset you enough to drink almost your entire cart. Did Camille try and reach out to you?”

“No,” he says too quietly. He can already feel the emotions he’s tried to lock down start to bubble up. He doesn’t want to cry in front of Ragnor, his friend doesn’t need to worry about him. The man always has more important things to deal with than him. Still, his arm has a mind of its own and points to the coffee table.

“What, you were studying runes and decided that getting drunk would be easier?” Oh, he truly loves Ragnor, the old fool knows how to make him laugh even at his lowest of lows. 

“Not mine,” he manages to get out before tears start to fall. 

“Oh, old friend,” Ragnor whispers. He’s happy that he doesn’t have to explain more, his friend understanding what the papers mean. 

The couch dips beside him and an arm wraps around his shoulders. Magnus doesn’t even try to resist, he’s just so tired. He rests his head on Ragnor’s shoulder and cries. Damn the universe for dealing him this deck of cards. 

As his soulmate grows older, the less stuff they seem to misplace. Magnus would find it strange that he’s practically getting nothing, but at this point, he doesn’t care what the shadowhunter does with their life. 

He does, though, care about the number of arrows he’s been finding in his loft. 

Magnus glares at the vase he designated for arrow disposal and sees that it’s full. He has five more wrapped in a cloth in his hands. With a sigh he snaps his fingers and summons another vase, tossing them in. He doesn’t know why he’s keeping them, there’s really no point except to dump them at the Shadowhunter’s feet when they meet. Maybe even throw a few at them, he considers. 

There’s nothing on them so he figures that the shadowhunter is training. Though Magnus almost shudders at the thought that a child is already practicing how to use a weapon. His soulmate is only ten years old, surely Nephilim society would wait until their children are at least thirteen before making them train for hunting. 

“Stupid Nephilim, not keeping track of his arrows,” Magnus grumbles. “That’s almost thirty arrows in the past two months! I would like to think that a shadowhunter would at least know how to put arrows away after training and not leave them everywhere.”

“Do go easy on them, Magnus,” Ragnor snorts from the other room. “It’s not like they had a choice in what family and life they were born into.”

“They still have the option to run away,” he grumbles, knowing he’s being irrational.

“Surely you don’t want them to be homeless at ten years old?” Ragnor says, entering the room with two cocktails, handing one off to Magnus before plopping down on a chair. 

“Maybe,” Magnus whispers, he looks over at his friend and sees the raised brow. He rolls his eyes, “Okay I don’t, not really.”

Magnus knows he’s being unkind to his soulmate. But after everything in recent years with the Uprising and the Circle, it’s hard not to associate all shadowhunters into the same category especially when so many members of the Circle turned tail and came crawling back to the Clave. And the Clave willingly brought them back into their ranks with a slap on the wrist. Magnus rolls his eyes at the thought of Robert and Maryse Lightwood being allowed to look over the New York Institute as their punishment. Those two should have been put behind bars for all that they did for the Circle.

“Don’t you think you are being a bit dramatic?” Ragnor asks as Magnus takes the seat across from him. 

“Me? Dramatic? Hardly, my dear Cabbage,” he says dramatically, hand on his heart. 

“Right,” Ragnor snorts. “Just a gentle reminder that you are getting upset at a child for being born into a life he had no power over just like you with Asmo-”

“Don’t,” Magnus snaps, his glamor flickering for a moment. “Don’t ever compare my upbringing to that of a shadowhunter.”

Ragnor doesn’t say anything else which he kinda feels bad about. His friend also knows better than to talk about his father in such a casual way. The two fall into a tense silence as they go through the books scattered on the table. He sighs, glancing over at the two vases of arrows that he’s put in his library. Ragnor is probably right, but he’s not going to tell that to the old fool’s face.

Magnus will apologize later, right now he wants to focus on the spell they’re working on and not about the shadowhunter.

The day they do meet is not by fate, no, more so Clarissa Fairchild, who Magnus had almost forgotten about. It’s been a couple of years since her mother brought the frightened child to his doorsteps to wipe her memories. Seems the girl has fallen into shadowhunter hands after her mother goes missing. He wouldn’t put it past the rogue Circle members that were in his club a few nights ago to be the reason.

As he examines the ruby necklace, a memento of another time in his life, a shout echoes across the basement and something whistles past his ear. Turning around he sees a Circle member fall to the ground dead with an arrow to the heart. 

Magnus feels his own heart stop as he turns to watch the archer descend the staircase and make his way to the corpse, to search for life. Magnus feels his skin turn warm and start to tingle, like a lego piece snapping into place. A whisper of a no slips past his lips. The shadowhunter must feel the same as he stands from checking the body he stands straight. Hazel meets brown as the man, the shadowhunter, stares at him in shock.

It’s him.

Magnus doesn’t wait for the man to reach him. He summons a portal, ignoring Clary’s cry to wait, and steps back into his loft. His breathing is erratic and it feels like his heart is about to explode. 

His soulmate is here, in New York. What is Magnus going to do? He can’t leave his post as High Warlock, not with Circle members making a reappearance. His people need him to protect them. Over the blood pulsing in his ears, he hears a cry, immediately snapping him out of his thoughts. Reaching out with his magic he feels that his hideout has been infiltrated. Dammit, he shouldn’t have left this place for that girl. 

Magnus can worry about the ache in his chest later, his people need his help. 

He doesn’t even wait for the Circle members to notice him, magic blasts out of his hands attacking any person who dares to enter this safe haven. When he finds out who leaked the location, he’s going to ban them from New York. He doesn’t have use for someone who would rat out his own people. 

“Your magic is strong, warlock,” the Circle member taunts. “Much stronger than that horned warlock I killed this morning.”

“Elias,” he says solemnly. He throws a ball of fire at the man who easily dodges it. They circle around each other, the man’s grin never leaving.

“So that was his name, lucky he sold you out before I took his warlock mark,” the man laughs.

Magnus knows he shouldn’t let his anger get the best of him, but he still finds himself lashing out at the Circle member, trying to disarm him. The man's grin turns even more sinister and something in his stomach tightens.

“Cats eyes,” he points out. Magnus didn’t even realize his glamor had dropped. “Would be a nice addition to my collection.”

Before Magnus can reply an arrow sings past him and lands in the man’s leg making him stumble. Magnus doesn’t wait for him to recover and deals a finishing blow. The Circle member collapses on the fallen bookshelf and Magnus feels like he’s frozen. That feeling in his stomach wasn’t from the Circle member, it was from him.

Magnus spins and sees the same shadowhunter from the club stand there, bow still raised, panic in his eyes. The man releases a breath and lowers his bow, eyes rake over the Circle member’s body before turning to Magnus. Magnus steps back, magic sparking at his hands ready to fight. 

The man opens and closes his mouth, trying to say something but nothing comes out. His eyes show only concern and worry, but that can’t be right, no shadowhunter would ever look at him like that. He glances at Magnus’ hands and the look disappears to something more neutral, closed off but not before Magnus catches a glimpse of pain.

“Alec!” A male voice shouts from down the hall, Alec glances behind him taking his eyes off of Magnus. The man must have a death wish for taking his eyes off of him. Magnus could easily take him out now, but his body won’t let him. “That’s the last of them.”

The shadowhunter, or Alec, nods his head and turns towards Magnus again, “We should go join the others.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Shadowhunter,” he bites back, hoping to get a reaction out of the man, but Alec doesn’t even flinch, just nods his head again.

“Apologies,” Alec says, turning around and leaving the library but halts, looking at something on his left. Magnus follows his gaze and realizes he’s looking at the multiple vases of arrows he’s kept over the years. Alec’s face stays blank but the grip on his bow tightens before he continues his way out of the living room.

Strange, Magnus thinks. He thought the shadowhunter would have demanded Magnus listen to him or even drag him to where everyone else is. Instead he’s letting Magnus choose to go with him, giving him the option to run tail if he wanted. 

Of course, Magnus won’t do that, he realizes with a sigh. He doesn’t know how many of his people made it out alive, all of them probably scattering the second the Circle members entered the hideout. He’ll need to notify friends and any families of the fallen here. 

With a wave of his hand, Magnus rids the loft of any dead circle members and teleports their bodies to the ocean. Let the sharks have their fun with them, he doesn’t care. In another wave, he teleports the bodies of the fallen warlocks to another safe haven he has in New York and a fire message to Catarina about what happened and where she needs to go.

When Magnus enters his living room he catches Alec with his head down and a girl with long dark hair rubbing a hand up and down his arm looking at him with concern. Something in his chest aches and presses a hand to his heart. Is that what Alec is feeling? He hates it. He doesn’t want to feel what the shadowhunter is feeling. 

He must be projecting his emotions because Alec flinches, pressing a hand to his chest and looks up at him. Again the pain that he sees disappears by that blank look. The girl catches Alec’s change and looks over at him and sends Magnus the most heated glare he’s ever received. 

He doesn’t have time to deal with that. He puts on his High Warlock persona and makes a show of his magic. Clary, to no surprise, is as stubborn as her mother and refuses to leave without getting her memories back. So he tells them what they all have to do to get them back. None of them argue to his surprise, though the blonde boy tries but is stopped by Alec with a hand on the shoulder. 

The summoning goes off without a problem. All of the shadowhunters listen to his explanation of how the ritual works and that they must not let go of each other’s hands. When Magnus explains that they must hold hands, the sister, Isabelle, moves into a position that forces Alec and him to hold hands. Magnus tries not to let his frustration show and accepts the positions. 

The second he and Alec’s hands touch, it’s like the final piece of their connection is sealed. He hears Alec let out a gasp and the hand in his grips tight before loosening. Magnus looks at Alec and the shadowhunter is not even glancing at him, he continues to stare at the wall opposite of him. Magnus feels an incredible sorrow fill his chest that makes him want to curl up and cry. 

Alec shows no outward sign of what he’s really feeling and something pokes at his heart that this is not the first time that Alec has had to mask his emotions. He shakes off the feeling, looking away from Alec to see everyone else staring at him waiting, though Isabelle is still glaring at him. 

The demon asks for a memory of the ones they love the most. Of course, his is Ragnor, his oldest and closest friend. Jace, who he finds out is Alec’s parabatai, and Isabelle’s are of Alec, which warms his heart or well maybe not his, he looks over at Alec and sees the soft smile on his face as the shadowhunter sees himself reflected in the tornado of smoke in the center. He doesn’t even catch what Clary’s memory was, too enraptured by the kindness shining in his soulmate’s eyes.

When the summoning is over, Clary collapses and is caught by Jace. He scoops the unconscious girl and leads her out of the loft with Isabelle, a quiet thanks as they pass him, leaving Alec and Magnus alone in the room. Alec hasn’t looked up from his hands since they let go, rubbing the hand that was entwined with his.

“Thank you for helping us,” Alec speaks softly. 

“I didn’t do it for you,” he says.

“I know.” Alec finally looks up from his hands and there’s a small smile on his face. “I’ll let you be. Have a good night, Magnus.”

The shadowhunter doesn’t wait for his response and rushes out the room to catch up with his family leaving Magnus alone. 

Alone.

Something that Magnus has been used to for decades now. His heart had been protected under a lock and key for so long and then Alec, this shadowhunter, his soulmate had to barge in and rip the lock off the cage. 

Magnus doesn’t want to feel like this. He liked it better when he was alone and didn’t have a soulmate, when he didn’t feel this much in his chest. The people he knows who have met their soulmates have told him about how they felt butterflies the first time they met their other half. That it felt like they were whole for the first time. Magnus doesn’t feel whole, he feels rage at the universe for giving him a shadowhunter as his soulmate.

Magnus doesn’t care how kind Alec may or may not be.

He will never fall in love with a shadowhunter.

Of course, that wouldn’t be the last time he saw Alec. He made it clear that he was not interested in getting to know the shadowhunter and thankfully Alec respected that. Again throwing Magnus off about his view of shadowhunters. 

Now Jace definitely fits that shadowhunter personality. Brash, rude, demanding, following red heads around like a lost puppy. Magnus rolls his eyes as the blonde’s gaze never leaves Clary’s as she word vomits in his living room fretting over Luke. Luke, who is in the state he’s in because of Clary, and Simon who couldn’t listen to simple orders. 

One would think that the girl would take her time to recover after getting all of her memories back. It seems that when she discovered the location of the cup, she snuck out of the Institute and met up with Sherman only to get kidnapped which led to a fight between a Beta and an Alpha werewolf which led to a new leader to the New York pack and-

Lilith, Magnus needs a drink.

He sends Simon and Jace off to fetch ingredients for him to help with the potion that would save Luke. Which leaves him and Clary to wait for them to return. Magnus focuses on the potion to make sure it doesn’t turn sour.

“So,” Clary says. “You and Alec, huh?”

Magnus almost drops a vial in the cauldron. “I beg your pardon?”

“You two are soulmates right?”

“And what gave you that idea?” He grits. 

“The stuff in Alec’s room,” she shrugs, wandering around the apothecary. “He has a whole bookshelf full of trinkets and vials exactly like the ones in here.” Clary pokes at the vials on his shelves, he almost snaps at her to stop. “It’s really incredible, you can tell he took great care of them all.”

“Is that so?” 

Clary nods, smiling as she picks up a vial off his table, inspecting it. “Yeah, he got really upset with me when I tried to pick up one of the items. Even went as far to wipe my finger prints off the thing. You can easily tell they’re his greatest treasure.” Clary’s smile turns to a frown. “Though last time I went to talk to him, he had put a bed sheet over the shelf.”

Oh. That information does something to his heart, like something has a vice grip around it now. Magnus shakes his head, clearing himself of the feeling, and goes back to the potion.

“Maybe he’s upset that he realized I’m a warlock,” he snorts.

“No, that wasn’t it. When I first saw it, he had this soft, delighted smile on his face. He had said that he hadn’t met the warlock who was his soulmate yet, but that he was eager to meet them. Said that he hoped his runes wouldn’t scare you away and that he could prove that he would care for you the way he cared for the items he got from you through your connection.” 

The vial that was in his hand drops to the table. Clary jumps at the sudden sound and turns to him in surprise.

Surely Alec didn’t think that way about him. He was an abomination with demon blood, Alec was a shadowhunter with angel blood. There’s no possible way they would work and yet, Alec knew his soulmate was a warlock before he even laid eyes on Magnus. Had a bookshelf full of the items he had lost over the years.

“Why?” He mutters quietly. “He’s a shadowhunter whose soulmate is a warlock. We’re not exactly the perfect match.”

“Why should that matter?” Clary asks. “It is clear that Alec doesn’t care that you’re a warlock. His mother is a different story though.” Clary rubs her arms up and down her arms like a shiver passed through her. The accurate reaction when talking about that woman. “I don’t understand how he just stands there while she speaks to him like that.”

“Like what?” His mouth feels dry, the blank face from a few days ago makes sense now. With a mother like Maryse Lightwood, finding out your son has a warlock soulmate probably didn’t go over well. He’s positive that Alec’s other siblings didn’t get that treatment, especially Clary and Jace who discovered they were soulmates. 

“Like he’s inferior for having a warlock as a soulmate. The first thing she did when she stopped by his room was berate him for still having that bookshelf, like he should be ashamed of himself for displaying who his soulmate was so openly and that she thought she told him to toss out anything that wasn’t useful.”

Magnus feels like there’s no air in the room. He leans forward on the table and stares into the bubbling concoction. 

With each new thing he learns about Alec, the less his view of him is so harsh. 

“That’s when he had covered the bookshelf,” Clary whispers, biting her lip. “Ever since their mother came back to the Institute that spark in Alec’s eye is gone.”

“Maryse does have the personality of a brick,” he chimes in hoping to lighten the mood. 

Clary doesn’t take the bait and instead looks at him with sympathy. “I don’t remember much about when we came here last, my memories are still a bit jumbled, but I know that when I woke up, no one knew where Alec went. Jace said to let it go, that he gets that way sometimes, but I couldn’t help feeling like something wasn’t right. When I found him he was on the roof, shooting arrows, one after the other until his hands were bleeding.”

“Why are you telling me this,” he rasps. His heart is beating out of control. Was Alec that hurt by his rejection? He was a shadowhunter, he should be relieved that his warlock of a soulmate doesn’t want to be with him. It wasn’t like Magnus would be upset if Alec left. Something about that thought makes his heart stop. 

“Because you both deserve happiness,” she says. “And I think Alec at least deserves a chance before you kick him to the curb.”

Magnus doesn’t know what to say to that. What could he say to that? For centuries he’s kept away from shadowhunters as much as possible and now he was fatefully connected to one. Why should he be the one to make that step? It wasn’t like Alec was taking the first step.

That’s because you rejected him before he could, his mind unkindly reminds him.

Magnus doesn’t get the time to ask more questions about Alec as Luke starts to seizure on the couch. He tells Clary what still needs to be done with the potion as he rushes over to Luke and pour his magic into the werewolf’s body to slow the spread of the poison. 

He loses track of time, just focusing on making sure that Luke makes it through this process. Just as he starts to feel his magic flicker, the door to his home bursts open and there’s a warm body catching him as he falls back.

Magnus huddles closer to the warmth, clasping his hand around the one that takes his. 

“Use my strength,” a voice whispers in his ear. “Take what you need.”

Magnus doesn't waste a second, siphoning magic from the person behind him. It’s like being shot with adrenaline, the other person’s energy practically shoving its way into his body. It’s definitely a first for him. Anytime Magnus has asked to share strength with someone, there is always a tug from the other person, not fully trusting Magnus to not abuse the power the other is giving him. Magnus feels no resistance from whoever he’s taking magic from. For someone to trust him that openly and blindly that they just give him their very essence brings tears to his eyes.

He’s going to have to thank whoever it is once he’s sure that Luke won’t die on him. Maybe even take them out to dinner as a thank you. As if they heard his thoughts, Jace and Simon rush through the living room and hand over the last ingredient to Clary who tosses it in the cauldron. Moments later, the trio are rushing over to the couch and pouring the potion down Luke’s throat.

The reaction is practically instant. Luke is no longer seizing on the couch and the dark veins around his wounds are receding. Magnus stops his constant flow of magic and drops. Or would have dropped, if the person behind him hadn’t caught him preventing him from making a fool of himself.

He just settles into the person’s arms and closes his eyes, focusing on his breathing. He used more magic than he had planned tonight and he feels exhausted. Not as exhausted as he thought he would be he realizes. That’s when he feels the hand still in his squeeze down and rub the back of his hand with their thumb. The person he’s leaning against begins to speak to Jace.

He jolts at the person’s voice, realizing just exactly who he is resting against. He opens his eyes and whips his head to Alec’s. Alec who is staring down at him with concern and worry that makes his heart ache. Magnus hurriedly lets go of their entwined hands and finds the strength to stand up. He doesn’t look back at Alec.

He asks Jace and Simon to help carry Luke to the guest room, ignoring the heat in his cheeks and the quick beatings of his heart. He hastily follows the men into the bedroom, making sure Luke is comfortable. He’s not ready to address that whole situation waiting for him in the living room.

As he gets Luke comfortable, his mind wanders back to Alec. He wonders if one of the others called Alec for help, but no, there would be no reason for them to notify Alec that he would need assistance. None of them but Clary knew about Luke’s deteriorating state and she was too busy making sure the potion was good to go when the others returned with the missing ingredient. 

He pauses fluffing Luke’s pillow and presses a hand to his chest as it aches. He had been so focused on healing Luke that he didn’t even notice his connection to Alec was so open. He doesn't feel much from Alec, but he understands now, why Alec knew to come to the loft. Magnus must have called out to him and Alec came running to help.

He doesn’t understand the Shadowhunter. Magnus couldn’t have made it more clear that he wasn’t interested in getting to know him. Yet, he still showed up, saved his life twice, helped Clary get her memories back and even assisted him in saving Luke, all without Magnus asking him to. He held Magnus close to his chest and let him practically drain him of his Nephilim energy to save Luke. The part of him that he kept under lock and key for so long slowly pours out and a warmth spreads through him at the fact that someone would do that for him without him asking, begging them to do so. It’s what he always wanted in a partner.

Why should the fact that him being a shadowhunter change that? Clary’s words from before also ring in his head, that Alec kept everything he lost and displayed them proudly in his room and told others about him, other shadowhunters. 

He’s hit with a yearning in his chest that makes him want to try. To maybe get to know Alec a bit and see what the shadowhunter is like. He’s never given Magnus a reason to think that he’s hostile. If anything, Alec has been giving him the space he’s asked for and was only dismissed when Magnus told him off. It’s Magnus who’s the one that’s been hostile. He should fix that, go talk to Alec. He should start by saying thank you.

Magnus excuses himself from the room and goes back out to the living room. Millions of thoughts race in his head, wondering what he should say, how he should say it. But when he reaches the living room, Alec is nowhere to be seen. Magnus steps towards the couch and looks at the entrance to his loft and doesn’t see the shadowhunter. 

His foot hits something on the floor. Magnus’ breath catches as he finds a small trash bin filled with bloody rags. He looks at his couch and sees that the blood stains are gone. 

Alec cleaned up the mess for him. Alec probably felt how depleted of magic he was and didn’t want him to exert himself anymore. The smell of lavender waffs through his living room, getting rid of the metallic smell of blood and decay.

He doesn’t know why that makes his eyes water. Alec did all of this without being asked to. He was being kind again, like he has been since he and Magnus first crossed paths. Magnus was just too stuck in his past to realize it. 

Not anymore, he decides, clenching his fists. He’s not going to let his past dictate his happiness anymore. He has a chance to be happy with the man who the universe has chosen to be his soulmate and he’s going to make the most of it.

Magnus is going to make this right, he has to.

[fanfoolishness]

Hi! I love your mando fics and I’d like to request some fluffy father-son feels Din & Grogu + music, if you have the time or if this inspires anything :)

Thank you so much for this prompt, I had so much fun with it!  I decided to send Din and Grogu to Batuu, as I figured they’d have some occasions for music, and because I miss Disneyland and Batuu/Galaxy’s Edge quite a lot.  All the little details are from my visits to the park, as well as the Traveler’s Guide to Batuu.  

You also get a bonus doodle because I got this mental picture and it was too cute!  Enjoy the fluff :)

The Outpost (2000 words)

***

Batuu was a strange world.  He’d been here a few times, years back, and the curious petrified spires towering upon the planet’s surface had struck him as unique.  He pointed them out to the kid as they flew closer to the port.  The kid’s eyes widened, taking in the odd sight, and he let out a babble.

“I know.  We’ve been to a lot of deserts, right, kid?  But these are trees, or they used to be.  The locals say they used to be thousands of meters tall.”  He smiled faintly, thinking of the kid standing against the base of one of the spires.  It made for one hell of a mental image.

The docking bay crew of the Black Spire Outpost gave him clearance to land, but he noticed a lot more bright colors throughout the marketplace and the streets than he remembered as they descended.  He did the math in his head.  Huh.  Life Day again already.

He didn’t know what Batuuans did for Life Day, if they were spend it at home with family types or if they were dance in the street types.  He suspected the former -- they were fairly reserved people, as he remembered, if you didn’t count the smugglers and mercs -- but crowds could make it harder to get around, and expose him and the kid to more wandering eyes.  But there were rumors Jedi came through town now and then, here on the edge of the galaxy, and that was what they were looking for.

***

He’d been wrong.  Batuuans weren’t stay at home types for Life Day, it seemed; they were out in force, whooping and hollering, trading their normal drab clothing in blues, grays and browns for reds and violets.  He left the pram in the Crest.  It’d be too easy to lose the kid in this crowd, even with it set to follow him as closely as possible.  

The kid, for his part, seemed fascinated by the crowds, leaning over the edge of Din’s arm to reach out at waving ribbons tied overhead along every path.  Streamers and pennants fluttered in the breeze.  People in bright cloaks and vests bumped off of Din’s shoulders as they passed, and he kept his free hand resting over his blaster in case of thieves.

He traced his way down the old stone streets past the grubby little cantina.  Thumping bass and electric squeals seeping through the walls were loud enough that the kid put his hands over his enormous ears.  “Don’t worry,” Din said to him.  “We aren’t going in.”  He knew an awful lot of people loved that stuff, but Din didn’t understand the point; music was just a distraction, a sometimes painfully loud one at that.

The kid leaned against his chest, slowly lowering his hands as Din walked further from the cantina.  Din kept an eye on the Wookiee bouncer outside as they passed.  Crowds there might be today, but a Mandalorian still was an unusual sight, and he suspected he’d be remembered no matter where he went.

The crowds around them flowed and chattered excitedly, kids in oversize festive hats skipping past, parents laughing and humming snatches of songs, young couples strolling from market stall to market stall holding hands and giggling in their finest clothes.  Even the unsavory element that flourished here looked to be in the spirit; he saw a few skulking Rodians with colorful ornaments jingling on their vests, and people clustered in shadowed alleys played furtive rounds of sabacc while wearing red and gold kerchiefs.  

Din looked down at the kid frequently, checking to make sure he wasn’t overwhelmed by the sounds and sights.  To the contrary, the kid seemed to be getting more and more excited as they walked.  He chirped and cooed and swiveled his long ears this way and that, sometimes grabbing Din’s hand by the thumb and shaking it for emphasis when he saw something interesting.  Din chuckled, holding the child closer.  

“I know, I know.  There’s a lot going on,” he said, leaning down close to the kid so that he could hear him through the crowd noise.  “Want something to eat?”  The kid looked up at him, mouth opening hopefully.  “I guess it was a stupid question.  You’re always hungry.”

He rounded the corner, sidling past a group of children tossing dice to the ground and whooping at the result.  The kid stiffened and stared up ahead at their destination.  Ah.  He’d smelled lunch.

Din made his way up a set of stone steps to the entrance of the market, marked by an enormous slab of ronto slowly being spun over a huge open fire on a spit.  The kid reached both hands out in a clear gimme gimme and Din bent to tell him, “Hold on, you’ll get to try some.  Be patient.”

Din waited until a clear space opened up at the counter, and he sidled up to the shopkeeper, giving him a nod.  Drask Corfin was a decent sort, and he’d given Din tips more than once on bounties and good deals.  Din’s hand went to his hip, pulling out the Batuuan spira he kept around for his rare visits.  

“Bright suns, Drask.  Looking for anything you can tell me about Jedi,” Din said.  “I know they’ve been here before.”

“Bright suns.  Good to see you, Mando,” said Drask.  “Now, that’s new.”  He nodded at the kid, who stared soulfully at a plate of ronto meat before a customer grabbed it away.

“He likes the festivities,” said Din.  He liked Drask fine, but he knew he wasn’t the man’s only customer, and giving out needless details was a dangerous game.  “Any recent Jedi visitors?  Or Mandalorians?”

“You’re still the only Mandalorian I’ve ever seen.  As for the Jedi, I haven’t heard anything for at least a year or two,” said Drask, getting the message and shifting his gaze from the kid.  “They used to come around now and then, looking for some kinda fancy rocks, but since the Empire… afraid I got nothing, Mando.”

Din sighed.  Well, it’d been worth a shot.  He fought down a wave of disappointment; the trip had been for nothing, after all.  “Keep an eye out for me.  If I don’t get any leads, I’ll check back again.”  He handed the man a few spira for his trouble, and a little extra.  “Got some food for me and the womp rat?”

“He’s old enough to eat solids?” Drask asked doubtfully.  “My kids weren’t eating my food until they were practically twice his size.”

“You don’t want to know what I’ve caught him eating.”

“Sure.  Just a sec.”  He returned with two wraps bursting with meat, bundling them into a flimsy bag, and Din gave him the rest of the money. 

He glanced around at the thronging crowds.  “Hey, you got somewhere quiet we can eat?”

Drask jingled the spira in his hand.  “For you, Mando, sure.  There’s a staircase round the back.  You two can take the roof for a little bit if you like.  Might get a good view of the band, too.  They’re due to start soon.”

Din didn’t care about that, but he appreciated the idea of a little relief from the jangling noise and the crush of people.  “Thank you.  Til the Spire, Drask.”

“May your deals go well, Mando.”

***

True to Drask’s word, the roof offered a respite from the hustle and bustle of the streets below.  There was a raised ledge that made for a decent seat, and Din set the kid down on his lap.  He pulled out one of the wraps and handed it to the kid, who looked up at him with wide eyes.  

“Yeah, that’s for you.  Go on, it’s good.”  Then he realized the shape of the food was all wrong for the kid’s little hands and small mouth.  “Hang on, let me just --” He reached down, breaking the wrap and the meat within into a few large pieces instead of one, and set the food down on a napkin spread on the kid’s tiny lap.  His gloves came away sticky with sauce, which he brushed off on his cloak.  “Don’t want you choking.”  Then again, he’d seen the kid slurp down a whole frog, so maybe choking wasn’t something he had to worry about with him.

The kid giggled, stuffing a hunk of ronto into his mouth.  He chewed it for a second before gulping it down, then let out a sneeze.  

Din paused, about to lift his helmet and take a bite of his own food.  “You okay there, buddy?”

Another tiny sneeze, but the kid kept eating, getting sauce all over his hands.  Din took a bite of his own food, enjoying a pleasant burn of spice in the creamy sauce.  Ah.  The kid wasn’t used to anything spicy. 

“Let me know if it’s too spicy for you,” Din said, swallowing his bite.  “We can always find something else if we need to.”  He lowered his helmet and glanced down just in time to see the kid let out a burp that was more like a hiccup than anything else.  He’d finished the whole damn thing.

Din shook his head.  Where did the food go?  Maybe the kid’s powers burned through energy like nothing else.  He ate through his own meal more methodically, allowing himself a moment to enjoy the bite of two different cuts of ronto, the vinegar tang of slaw, the soft chew of the thick wrap and the creamy, spicy sauce.  It’d been a long time since he’d been to Drask’s, and he’d forgotten how good the food was.

He finished up, then cleaned up the kid.  Time to head back to the ship, then.  There wasn’t much point in hanging around since the hoped-for lead hadn’t materialized.  

Before he could get to his feet a loud noise burst through the crowd hubbub below, and he quickly leaned over the edge of the roof from his seat to search for threats.  It took a second for him to recognize it as merely the start of a song.  Down below in the open square was a shabby little stage with a band, the players holding a variety of different instruments.  Around them the Batuuans started dancing and singing, some of them swaying from side to side, others leaping up and down with their hands up.  He guessed this was a popular one, then.

He felt a sudden lightness on his lap.  “Kid?” he asked, looking down.  The kid had slipped down from his lap and landed between his feet, and he stood there, still as a tiny statue except for his ears.  They vibrated slightly, then raised, tilted, focused.  

“What is it, pal?”

The song changed, something bright and peppy with a strong drum beat.  People below began to clap and stomp, the rhythm rolling outward from the band, streaming into the people in the crowd.  And the kid started to dance.

It took Din a moment to realize that was what it was.  It started as a little sway of his head, a gentle bobbing back and forth along with the rhythm.  Then his hands lifted, curled themselves into tiny fists as he waved them.  Finally, he started shuffling his small feet, shifting from side to side, and he let out a stream of giggles.

Din watched him.  The kid’s attention was fixed toward the crowd, mostly, but now and then he would turn his gaze to look up at Din, his ears twitching happily, and Din looked back at him, feeling a satisfaction that had nothing to do with no longer being hungry.

Music wasn’t forbidden to his people by Creed, but his tribe had stayed hidden for so long that music had become an unnecessary risk.  Their secrecy would have been challenged by drums and strings, by voices lifted in song, and so they let it go, as they had let so many things go in their exile.  Din had not missed it.  Music was not forbidden, but neither was it a tenet of the Way.

But watching the kid dance his clumsy, happy dance, the people celebrating down below, the music seeped in.  Din felt drums thrumming in the hollows in his lungs and belly, the whine of vibro-guitar buzzing in his ears, the chirruping of a bright flute weaving in with the warm brassiness of trumpets.  And over all the voices, the clapping, the stomps of a people celebrating, a people joyful.  There was a story here in all these layers of sound, and it washed over him, a force in and of itself.

His foot stirred.  Itched.  Shifted.  It hummed with the urge for movement.  He looked down and saw it tapping of its own volition, keeping time in a steady beat.  

Between his feet the kid danced, waving his small arms, his face tilted up to look at Din’s as he laughed.  Din tapped his foot against the roof as the music swelled, and he thought, perhaps, that the trip had been worth it after all.