#breaking writer's block

[cryscal-writes]

☝️🦇☝️

Anybody else got that Evergiven sized writers block

[happy-and-alone]

just something random i came up with because i have writer's block so anything is good right now

Word Count: idk TW: mentions of car crash

Feel free to pretend like these are two characters you feel would fit the story. I left it to just pronouns for that reason.

1 hour. It took him 1 hour to realize she wasn't coming.

As he walked out to the parking lot, tears dancing in the corners of his eyes, it began to storm. The storm was heavy, the thunder loud enough to shake the ground and the lightning bright enough to blind a man. It matched his new mood quite well.

He got into his car, slamming the door as he puts the keys into the ignition and cranks his music up all the way. He flies down the highway as if it's his only option.

He truly believed she was coming. She promised she was coming.

The screen of his phone lights up, indicating a text. He glances down to see who sent it. Her. Rage clouds his vision, and anger takes over his mind. He is seeing red as he goes even faster down the highway, faster than he thought he could. He can't see. The world turns to smoke and ash as he drives. And then...nothing.

The car just...stops.

~*~

She is late. In her defense, she was going to get him something for their date and her car wouldn't start. It's a shit car, she'll admit that, but it's never had problems starting before. It took 30 minutes for the mechanic to finally show up, and another 30 minutes for him to fix it. Right before she leaves, completely neglecting the idea of a gift at this point, she texts him letting him know she'll be late, apologizing.

Sorry! Car wouldn't start and mechanic took forever to get here. I'll be there in 10😘

~*~

He crashed. The roads were slick and he was going 110 on a highway. What did you expect? She doesn't know this though. She is blissfully unaware, continuing the drive to the restaurant. Upon her arrival, she is informed that he left. She sends another text.

Hey. Did something happen? Sorry I'm late. Are you okay? Where are you?

Concern floods her emotions, as he lay motionless in a bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses. She doesn't know, and never will know. Because while she could have taken the highway home and seen his car on the way back, she doesn't. Instead, she takes a more rural road and makes it home safe.

Tears stain her pillow at the thought of him standing her up. He's not the person that would ditch with no explanation. She knows him well enough to know that he wouldn't do that.

~*~

Life goes on. She carries on, years later, forgetting the event ever happened. She's married, and has a new puppy, all in a beautiful house in a beautiful town.

He is gone. Not dead, but not here either. No, he is elsewhere, also forgetting about the event from years ago.

Until he finally gets a new phone. It's been three years and he's been fine without one, but his new job requires him to have one. He makes his way down to the store, and settles on a nice, reasonably priced phone.

"Would you like to keep the same number, or do you want a new one?" the cashier asks.

"The old one is fine," he responds. "I don't remember my mom's phone number anyway.''

The cashier sets it all up and laughs to herself.

"What's so funny?"

She stiffens slightly, but her smile doesn't falter. "Oh nothing," she replies. "Just that someone must be real interested in you. You've got a lot of missed messages from just one person."

She hands him the phone, and he walks out of the store and down the street. When he opens the phone to check messages the cashier mentioned, he freezes, nearly dropping the new phone. He can't believe this is even real.

Sorry! Car wouldn't start and mechanic took forever to get here. I'll be there in 10😘

END

*IF YOU REBLOG/REPOST PLEASE CREDIT ME*

[lyralit]

anything but writing (break tips)

change the sheets on your bed

draw (badly, if you're me)

put on a playlist that's too distracting to write to

go get a nice snack

drink water (hydration is key)

water the dying plants in That One Green Corner

make a timeline of story events (technically writing but I find timelines fun)

scroll through Pinterest and Tumblr

text someone who definitely won't text you back (so you don't feel tempted to check off break)

clean up your workspace

go for a walk. (ew. it's supposed to be productive)

or a swim (>>)

watch a movie (to laugh or cry to. not something you watch in sullen silence)

indulge in a guilty pleasure

get that work done

go buy a single item from the grocery store in pyjamas

essentially get out of bed

reread what you wrote already

do a deep dive into Canada's Rhinoceros Party

make a to-do list

reread a book

make a to-do list of things you've already done so you can check them all off and feel productive

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

[brittanagirlcrush]

Oddly, I find closing my eyes and just thinking about what I want to happen and what the characters are wearing or eating (or some other mundane detail) helps (of course, it often leads to a nap which doesn't hurt)

Also, taking a drive and talking out loud (alone or with someone) helps as well.

Some of my writer’s block cures:

Handwrite. (If you already are, write in a different coloured pen.)

Write outside or at a different location.

Read.

Look up some writing prompts.

Take a break. Do something different. Comeback to it later.

Write something else. (A different WIP, a poem, a quick short story, etc.)

Find inspiring writing music playlists on YouTube. (Themed music, POV playlists, ambient music, etc.)

Do some character or story prompts/questions to get a better idea of who or what you’re writing.

Word sprints. Set a timer and write as much as you can. Not a lot of time to overthink things.

Set your own goals and deadlines.

Write another scene from your WIP. (You don’t have to write in order.) Write a scene you want to write, or the ending. (You can change it or scrap it if it doesn’t fit into your story later.)

Write a scene for your WIP that you will never post/add to your story. A prologue, a different P.O.V., how your characters would react in a situation that’s not in your story, a flashback, etc.

Write down a bunch of ideas. Things that could happen, thing that will never happen, good things, bad things.

Change the weather (in the story of course.)

Feel free to add your own.

[rottmnt-residuum]

the asks will be scheduled for halloween, but it's greatly appreciated if you send them before then -> Co-Authors Ask Box <-

[sushistyless]

Kisses in kiwi flavour.

just some early morning love between Y/N and H.

1.2k (blurb). My masterlist!

——————

“Mhm,” Harry grumbles sleepily as he wraps his tatted arms around Y/N’s waist, encasing her with his strong chest. His arrival in their tiny kitchen (but cozy— they’d add) catches her by surprise, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. She melts into his touch, liking the pattern his fingers make as they skate on the bare skin that’s revealed from the way he rucks her (well, previously his) shirt.

“What’s m’precious doing up so early?” He bends down some, the raspy notes of his voice resonating against her neck, and the feel of his lips curving against the canvas of her skin as he speaks slowly.

Y/N breathes in deeply, a smile blooming on her face from his words alone. She flips a pancake, noticing how the golden brown colour on it has spread evenly, and plops it over onto the ceramic plate kept on the side. She nestles further into him as she does so, and Harry’s hold on her tightens, his face now buried in the crook of her neck as he inhales her scent— rosemary and… cinnamon? — revelling in the knowledge that he now has her full attention.

“She’s making pancakes for you. She’s amazing actually.”

Harry grins hazily at her response, kissing her neck and skating his palms gently along her soft waist before giving her love handles a little squeeze. “Don’t doubt that. My dodo is amazing.”

Y/N bites her lip in efforts to stifle her own fluttering laugh, cushioning her head back on his bicep, and leaning back into him. She twists her head to look up at him, fondly gazing over his features while he continues to talk in the drawly velvety voice of his, “But as wonderful as tha’ is, she left me without m’cuddles this morning.” He pouts, giving her puppy dog eyes that are way too easy to fall for, Y/N thinks. “And I need m’girl to give me my daily dose of cuddles t’function.”

He was such a dodo too.

“Oh no,” Y/N gasps dramatically, “How will you live now? I’m getting worked up just thinking about it—” She pretends to faint on his arm, animatedly throwing a hand over her heart and closing her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry warns, the muscles in his cheek resisting the usual urge to twitch into a grin, “She should know that I have her in my arms— in m’clutches— right this second.”

Y/N blows a raspberry, not giving much regard to the threat, instead fanning her hands in front of her face, “Yeah, yeah, right. Like tha—" Her sentence is cut short however, when Harry’s hands move to tickle her sides. A bubble of chirpy laughter immediately bubble out of her system, as she curls into herself as a built in mechanism.

“H-Harry!” She squirms in his embrace, laughs pouring out her lungs, grappling to hold onto his wrists which is almost impossible considering his tactful tickle skills. And even when she does manage to get a hold of him, he’s way too strong for her to move especially when she’s already in an annoyingly compromised situation. “

“Yeah?” He beams, deep dimples making little craters in his cheeks, “Don’t worry now. Her laughs have resurrected me.” His fingers continue to squiggle around her sides until his arms wrap around her form completely, fully holding her to him.

He decides to relieve her by planting a big smooch on her cheek, and there’s quiet in the room from her breathing finally slowing down, heavy pants and little laughs leaving her lips as she calms down. Her fingers move to thread around with Harry’s, a pulse in his grip as she does so.

“Boo you, H,” she beams, panting out, “Absolute meanie.” She shakes her head, eyes betraying her quest to stay unaffected as if they remain with a blushy, joyful little twinkle in her crinkled eyes.

Harry only stares back at her, the biggest smile pulling on his lips. He watches the sparkle in her eyes, happiness cradling his heart at the fact that he could be the cause of that.

“I wanna kiss you, now.” Harry whispers and flips her to face him completely, entranced by the sight of his idiot. His lover. His dodo.

His.

“Yeah?” she counters, slowly pushing herself up to sit on the now empty, slightly flour-y counter. Harry catches on and guides her by the hips, assisting her.

“Yeah.”

That’s when she pops a piece of kiwi from the bowl on the counter into her mouth.

A glint in her eyes is next slowly, and before he knows it, she’s chewing on it.

“Aish. Too bad. Toooo, too bad.” She lets out a soft giggle as she chews, hand covering her mouth, “Such deprivation this is for you. How can you kiss me, when I-I’m eating, Hm?”

“Oh, no.” He smirks at her, “S’bad manners to talk while eating.” He brushes a strand of hair out of his face, his teasing and banter with her mischievous, actions tender. He scrunches his nose some, “Guess it’s time for me to break a rule too, then.”

He moves forward and nudges his nose with hers, and Y/N helps, giggling softly as she pulls back, chewing with her mouth still covered by her hand, a bit of the kiwi juice trickling down her lips. “H! Oh my god, you are—"

“— much less clumsy than you? Yeah, you messy girl. I am.” He grins showing his usual dimples, eyes far too busy twinkling into taking her features as he brings up his thumb and carefully swipes away the little bit of kiwi juice trickling down her chin.

Y/N giggles softly, with a shy glow in her eyes as he does so, finishing her bite. Just as she’s done, in a moment of bold mischief she tries to reach for the bowl again.

“Ah, ah— ahh. Nope.” Harry’s hand immediately reaches for her, pulling it back, a lopsided smile tugging on his lips. “You menace.”

“Oh, I’m the menace?”

“‘Course you are. You’re dodging m’kisses.”

“I’m eating, H! I-" she bubbles out in a laugh, cut off by him.

“Is it ‘cause I ate that last donut you wanted yesterday?” He now pouts, his hold on her tightening as he bends a bit and nudges her nose with his. “Aw, and now you’re upset, Hm?”

She pouts a bit herself, laughing breathily, as she noses back at his nose, eyes closed. “See? You’re so mean. You’re not even sorry about it.”

“‘M such a meanie,” Harry says with a little smile, his eyes fluttering shut as he rests his forehead against hers.

Y/N finally leans in and kisses him, eyes closed too, as the soft touch of her hands behind his neck send tingles down his spine. Supple lips locked in a sweet dance with hers, harry deepens the kiss, tilting his jaw and pulling her flush against his chest, strong arms tightening against her soft frame.

He pulls away barely, eyes full of tender affection as he looks at her own irises, filled with a shy, excited tinge.

He whispers soft, eyelashes fluttering close to hers in a butterfly kiss, “Mmh. Y’taste like Kiwi.”

She kisses him back, barely able to contain her own shy little smile, “And you owe me a donut.”

———

ah, thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and liking! 🤍

[fatuismooches]

Weird thing I always imagine. Idk if they’ve been invented in teyvat but let’s say they have so….rollie chair Dottore. Specifically if he’s taking care of fragile reader in his office, just cleaned their arm in preparation for needle, but wait that needle is over on his desk, that’s okay he’ll just wheelie over !! Idk just imagining him rolling from desk to desk to grab some papers and whatnot is so scientist/doctor coded

The only reason Dottore owns one of these rolling chairs is because you were the one who bought it in the first place (very much persuaded by Pantalone's luxurious one.) The Doctor prefers a regular ordinary chair, as that's what he's worked with his whole life and sees no reason to change, but that's also probably because he could care less as long as it doesn't break. You, however, are of the opinion that spinning chairs = fun. You replace his main chair with the rolling one. Dottore still doesn't care. He's much more in the habit of simply getting up whenever he needs something. You sit in his lap and try to push him to get it to roll but you're not strong enough for that of course. The mission is mostly unsuccessful. Mostly. He does sometimes unintentionally roll when the distance is short, and then just continues since he's already doing it. You find it very entertaining, and he does admit to the convenience. (Foxttore loves the chair the most. Lil shit refuses to get off it sometimes.)

[xstarkillerx]

brian o’conner who fingers you under the dinnertable while everyone is discussing whatever the current topic is. the same brian who will force you to act as if his fingers or cock weren’t in you moments ago, a smug grin across his face at the idea of people being able to smell you on him. he’ll fuck you with his fingers in his car, under the table, against the wall of the bathroom, in an elevator, or where ever he can get you and then he’ll go and shake the hands of everyone who he’s meeting for the first time while you stand across the room bright red as you watch him use his cunt soaked hands to shake the hands of new people and pat their backs as they talk.

ANOJNNNNNN ANONNNNN AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH a person after my own heart, Brian loves fingering he's just that guy you know. I love everything about this, because i love when Brian's just a straight up fucking perv. He'll swipe a finger under his nose mid conversation with Tej just to smell your sweet fucking pussy. You know he loves skirts, how easy it is to get his fingers inside you. Totally see him with you in an alleyway outside of a miami club, knuckle deep in your wet pussy, givining you that gorgeous lazy smile and talking in your eat about he knows you'd let him cum inside you right here, right fucking now and proudly walk back in that club with his cum dripping down your leg. Think that dweeby fuck that bought you a drink would lick it up your leg if it meant he got to eat this pretty pussy?

I need him

[kiaxet]

So it turns out the latest update in @somerandomdudelmao‘s apocalypse comic has been living in my head, and when that happens I need to get it out, so ~900 words of sad it is!

~~~~~~~~

Donnie is good at birthdays. He has been once he was old enough to understand the concept. It's a point of pride.

Specifically, he's good at presents. According to his data, most people who fail at presents do so because of the guesswork they seem to think needs to be involved. He's never understood the point of that. Data and hypotheses, certainly, but why guess when a definitive answer is available after a simple direct inquiry?

"What do you want for your birthday?"

Early on, the presents are easy. Art supplies. Comics. Stuffed animals. Things he could hand to Papa in an easily followed list format, or obtain for himself once they all got old enough to start safely leaving the lair and venturing into the city above. It's simple and straightforward and so, so easy to get right.

(Of course, he always has an annotated list of his own desired gifts to provide to his brothers; if he's solved the guesswork issue, he may as well make things easy for them too. Plus, that method ensures he gets what he wants.)

Things start getting a little more complicated as he and his brothers get older. Art supplies and comics and stuffed animals are still very much appreciated, and he's documented his brothers' tastes well enough to know exactly what they like, but the answers to his simple direct inquiry are different.

"Dee, can you help me plan this mural out? I think I have enough space, but I could use a hand with the measurements."

"Donton, my half of the day is gonna be a Jupiter Jim marathon, and I need you there. Without your laptop." A beat. "But you can pick one of the movies if you want."

"Hey Donnie, you think you can help me out fixing up the gym? Things just stay put longer if you weld 'em."

After a few years of documentation, Donnie spots the pattern. His brothers appreciate physical gifts from him, certainly, but that's not what they want anymore. What Donnie's family wants from him is time - time outside the lab where he spends a good amount of his days, time spent in conversation or shared activity or simply in the same room. It's not as easy as finding the right physical gift, but if that's what they want, then he's more than happy to provide. Now that he's discerned the pattern, it's just as easy to give his brothers what they want, and Donnie can continue to maintain that he is Good At Birthdays as a point of pride.

~~~~~~~~

The Hamatos don't do birthdays anymore. There's no time in the apocalypse, no supplies, and Donnie is one of the few who actually keeps track of the calendar date. The apocalypse certainly has its share of anniversaries, a list that only grows the more people they lose, but birthdays are no longer celebrated.

With one exception.

Casey Jones Junior, their collective adopted kid, is young enough that birthdays still matter - should still matter. They do their best to keep him safe and keep those days calm and happy for him, despite everything happening around them, and while they don't always succeed, they at least try.

And damn it all, Donatello is still good at birthdays.

"Casey Junior!" He greets the kid with a grin, leaning on his bo like it's not both an inconvenience and a humiliation to need to rely on it in order to stay upright.

"Uncle Tello?"

"Since I'm not very good at guessing, I'll ask straight out." This is not entirely true - he has a list of potential gifts for Casey drafted, with 98% certainty that whatever Casey asks for will align with one of them - but he requires that confirmation to move forward. A certainty in a world where certainty is in short supply. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"My...ah." Casey's expression falls and he looks away, gaze fixed on the paperwork in his hands. Donatello says nothing, pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room in order to give Casey space. "You...can do anything," Casey starts.

"Pretty much, yes." Material issues aside - spirits know he'd have a cure for whatever the Krang had infected him with if those weren't a concern.

"I want you to stay alive," Casey says, and Donnie's smile freezes in place as Casey looks back up at him. "Can you do that?"

Damn that two percent uncertainty.

"Ah. Of course." He shrugs, as though he doesn't know exactly what Casey is asking for, and pulls up a holographic display of a calendar. "According to my calculations, I will be alive next month, which means I'll be here for your birthday." Not talking about it won't solve the problem, but it may salvage this conversation. "So! What's an actual gift you want?"

"I want you to be here." Casey's gaze finds a point on the floor, and Donnie falls silent. "Not just for a month."

No. No, he needs something concrete - something he can act on - he knows how long his list of responsibilities is, but he still feels stymied, rushing up on the end, and he needs something he can do- "But it's not a gift," he replies, a last-ditch effort he's fairly certain is bound for failure-

"No. No, it is."

As always, all Donnie's family wants from him is time.

And now, at the end of his rapidly-shortening life, it's the one thing he can no longer give them.

[lunaetis]

one-liner call ! most likely would be slight pre-est. pls specify who you want ( if you dont i'm defaulting to either eden or yinyue. ) you’re more than welcomed ( and encouraged ) to go wild with your response / lengthen it to your heart’s content ! multi pls let me know who it’s for !

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 79)

Uzi was sitting on the couch, burying her face in an aeronautical engineering book for the umpteenth time. Sketching out ideas for heat shielding on a notepad, Tera on her lap, inquisitivly watching her mother draw and holding onto her bat plushie.

If she was being honest with herself (which, of course she wasn't) she would admit that it was somewhat difficult now for Tera to sit on her lap like she used to, her baby bump was now fairly obvious, she could still… somewhat, hide it underneath her hoodie, but even then if someone was paying close enough attention they would notice that something was different.

And it was of course at this moment, V crashed into her apartment. The door whipping open suddenly and startling both girls out of their shells. Tera chirped loudly and Uzi very nearly cursed.

“Back, took pictures.” V said bluntly, making Uzi take a deep breath to surpress the urge to beat her over the head with whatever she had in her hand. (A notebook, it wouldn't hurt, but still.)

“Okay. A. Thank you.” Uzi hummed, before her face fell “B. Bite me! You didn't have to scare the crap out of me!” She grumbled, standing up and resting Tera on her shoulder. V smirked, before her eyelights shifted down to Uzi's midsection.

“Huh. You can actually tell now.” She commented, which immediately made Uzi feel self conscious, she wouldn't lie and say that the visible change to her body wasn't off-putting.

“It hasn't been that long since you saw me.” Uzi pouted, turning slightly away from her ‘freind’. V clicked her tongue.

“How are you holding up?” V asked, ignoring her statement and tone much, much softer.

“Fine. Still don't know why you care so much.” Uzi replied, and V looked at the floor for a moment before Uzi got several pictures sent to her over short range, she filed them in a folder titled ‘MYSFLESH:/’

“’Fine’ isn't an answer.” V pointed out, crossing her arms, her attitude was normal grating on Uzi's nerves, but with everything else she had to stress about, it was genuinely beginning to piss her off.

“It's the only one you're getting. Now if you're finished doing everything in your power to make my day harder. I need to look over these pictures.” Uzi turned away, from the door, a sure way to tell V to fuck off, but unfortunately that did not happen.

“You're carrying, N can't be here all the time. It's… It's my responsibility to fill in when he's not here.” Uzi tensed up at V's words, hitting her like a sack of bricks.

“Your responsibility?” Uzi parroted back at her, whipping around to glare into V's visor. “Why is it your responsibility?”

V, for once, looked genuinely nervous about what she was about to say, her tail pressed flat against the floor.

“I don't-” She growled at herself, as if she was fighting her own programing. “It just is! I don't know how to explain it!” She finished, exasperated and throwing her clawed hands forward, showing more emotion then Uzi had ever seen.

“It's unbearable!” Her tail suddenly sprang up, kinking in several places before it went back into its default position. “I don't wanna be here either, but it's so much worse when I'm not!” She yelped, like a dam that had just cracked.

Uzi stepped back, alarmed at the sudden outburst. V began to pace back and forth.

“I-I think the worst part is that I don't entirely hate it! I want to! But you're not actually terrible, you're stubborn as hell and get on my nerves-” V grunted, whatever was making her agitated seemed to suddenly deflate, making her stop her pacing and rest her head within the palm of her clawed hand.

“Ugh. Freaking- God Dammit. I don't actually hate your guts, and I do actually care if you live or die. Happy?” V finished, a small golden blush displaying on her visor, crossing her arms.

Uzi took a moment to process, before snickering into her hand, making V blush harder and growl irritability.

“Do not.” V warned, but now her threats were empty, they always were, but now there was no pretending otherwise.

“Aww. V, that's like, the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” Uzi smirked, watching at V's tail thrashed like whip, displaying her discomfort.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” V replied, breifly looking away before her eyes came to glance at Uzi from the corner of her visor, Uzi was smiling.

And so was V.

-*-

“Alright. Alright. Settle Down!” Khan was standing up a stage set up in the WDF training course. The aforementioned equipment haven been deconstructed and put away, the rows of seating in it's ‘stadium-esque’ design being perfect for holding a bunker wide meeting.

Speaking of bunker-wide, every drone that made their home within the bunker was scattered throughout the seats, a rainbow of different eyelight colors staring back at him, even so seeing everyone in front of him made what he already knew more obvious.

There weren't a lot of them left…

The soft murmur of voices quieted, and Khan cleared his throat, looking back behind him to the other two drones with him. Uzi, sitting with her legs crossed and arms crossed, refusing to look ahead at their audience. And N, who was standing at stiff attention at her side, for once, Tera was not with them. Instead, V was looking after her, offering almost immediately.

He turned back to his audience, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you all for coming. I know everyone is curious on why I called this emergency meeting. So I won't waste time.”

He nodded to N, who nodded back and lifted his hand. A large yellow hologram of Copper-9 appeared above them, enough for everyone to see, it drew so much power from N's systems his eyelights and headband dimmed and he winced.

“This is our home, we've worked, fought, and made lives here for over a hundred years, not always independent, but always here.” Khan’s voice wavered.

“Right now, however, this is what our home looks like.”

With some effort on his part, N's hologram changed, one hole opening up, then another, and two more, until the surface of the planet was reminiscent of Swiss cheese, pockmarked full of holes. Images provided by V's scouting trip.

And out of each one, tentacles reached up out of them, pulsing and wiggling wildly, the audience gave a collective wince, several people gasped. And a few straight up burst into tears.

“After through study, it has been determined that twenty percent of the planet has already been consumed, the rest will follow within six months… give or take.” He continued, the waver in his voice was obvious now, but he powered through. N changed the hologram again, letting a fleshy substance cover the frozen surface of Copper-9.

“My daughter has come up with a plan; one that I will let her explain.” He suddenly turned to Uzi, N's hologram fading out and his glow returning to near normal, though an exhausted look flickered across his face.

Uzi took a deep breath, replacing her father's place on stage, feeling the mic attached to her shirt, heavy as lead.

“I know I don't have the best reputation.” She started, her voice croaking slightly. She balled up one of her hands, all the eyes boring into her as she felt her core speed up. “You all know me as Khan’s outcast, rebellious daughter, the one that brought the murder drones into the bunker.”

And so, so much more

She thought internally.

“But believe me when I tell you I want every single person here to make it out of this situation alive.” She nodded at N, who gave her a small smile before, with another wince, brought up another large hologram.

This one was of a shuttle, large enough to fit the entire bunker, though still very much only a concept.

“The cause of the infection is currently unknown, but the flesh that's spreading across the surface is deadly, contact with it causes rapid assimilation, and a loss of all bodily autonomy.” She paused for a moment, realizing she was speaking as if she was reading out of textbook.

“Zombification, in layman's terms.” She clarified, the audience was dead silent, but with another steadying breath and an even tighter grip on her own palm, she continued. “Our best option is complete planetary evacuation.”

There was a murmur through the crowd, one that Uzi was expecting.

“I hear you. This is our home, we've always lived here. And that kind of change is scary.” She was happy she had pre-written this speech with the help of her dad, otherwise, she would have definitely flubbed something up by now.

She had to give credit where credit was due, Khan knew how to write a speech.

“But leaving is a chance at survival, more then that, it's our chance to truly divorce ourselves from our past as nothing but tools for our creators.” At that she could hear several affirmative mumbles, she thought that might have been a good addition, there were many old drones that still remembered being slaves.

“From today, my plan is to build an escape shuttle, reverse engineering the landing pods already here to head to somewhere where we can start again.” N's hologram showed an image of a landing pod, before switching to a new planet, one covered in greenery instead of ice.

“Without all of us working together, this won't work, so I'm asking each and every one of you to pull together for this. Not for me, but for your family, your neighbors, your friends. And help make this a reality.”

She finished, finally, feeling satisfied with what she had said.

“Those in favor. Head down to the right of the stadium. Those opposed, to the left.”

Despite at this point needing to sleep for several sunlit days, N gave a last hologram, two arrows pointing left and right.

Uzi took the opportunity to check up on him, walking back towards him with a concerned frown.

“You okay? I know you haven't been sleeping well, and that took a lot of energy.” With everyone gathering below the stage, Uzi felt safe enough to place a hand on his chest. He gave a small smile.

“I'm good.” His hand came up into a thumbs up even as Uzi could see the ‘low charge’ symbol blinking at the corner of his visor. “You passed out this morning, I should be asking you.”

His hand came to rest on her baby bump, giving her a very tired grin as the hologram flickered slightly. “Baby has you exhausted too, I'm really proud of you for making this speech.”

She blushed, taking another glance around to insure no one was watching them.

“Let's just hope it was worth it..” Uzi blinked, did… did she just say that twice? Because it was either that or… the mic was still on.

She gasped, looking down at the mic attached to her, still blinking green, showing that it was indeed on. She looked back up at N, who looked equally as shocked. And she quickly turned it off, looking back at her dad, who had apparently been trying to get her attention this entire time, and now was just smiling sheepishly.

The stadium was dead silent.

Like a character in a horror movie, she slowly went to check on the rest of the stadium, the seats now all empty. She peered over the side and-

Not a single person was present on the left, every single drone voting in favor of Uzi's plan, when she was noticed back within view, she got cheers, she could hear congratulations mixed in with the “you go girl”s and straight cheers.

She began to tear up a moment of relief hitting her before the mortification she just announced her pregnancy in front of the entire bunker caught up.

She looked back at N, his hologram now gone, while he shrugged his shoulders with a smile, although a look on his face that was asking ‘are you alright’

No was the answer.

But even still, the plan was set in motion.

Next ->

[uinmyheart]

[♡] "Hey, stranger"

"Hello, youuuu" you instantly smile after hearing his voice.

"How's everything going over there?" you ask. You're sitting in your pajamas, skincare routine already finished and putting some lotion on your legs. it's been ages since the last time you were able to do this properly.

"Well, our dear Hanni has been acting like a brat all day just because she misses you. She's been acting like i'm the devil." you hear a certain echo of his voice as well as the knocks of pans and silverware which probably means he's wrapping up the night routine while your call stays on speakers.

"I'm guessing you had an eventful day." you smile.

"And that's to say the least." you both giggle. "I'm not sure about letting Hanni continue with her football lessons. She's starting to grow some muscles and now I'm scared of a pre-teen that just happens to be my only daughter."

"I don't think it's the football lessons, babe. It's that age." you giggle. You're so happy to hear them and your heart aches now that you're not with them.

As soon as your daughter started growing, it was time to get back on your feet and start working again, but every single time you had to pack your things for a quick work trip, it became even more difficult than the previous one. Maybe it's the constant fear of missing out on things that happen in your house, or not being able to be in control of everything that's happening over there, but being completely honest, you cannot really complain about the perks that came with work travelling. The suite your workplace had provided for your stay, and the clean bathtub in your bathroom wasn't so bad either.

"I mean, you should've seen me driving over here with a car full of annoying teens making fun of everything that I did or said. The way they made fun of my nose for more than 20 minutes almost made me cry, honestly." hearing you giggle out loud makes him lightly smirk even though deep inside he still feels hurt by the way his own blood had betrayed him like that in front of all of her friends. "And feeding those demons.. It's insane. I'm going have to squeeze in a quick run to the grocery store. We're out of.. oh, yeah. Everything. They even found those special cookies we keep hidden for our movie nights."

"Ooh, babe. It was time you found out. Hanni has been eating them non-stop. That place is not a secret anymore. I just stopped restocking those because she always checks right after coming back home. It's taking a toll on our sweet treat budget." you deliver the bad news with a pretty big smile on your face, already imagining the look of confusion on his.

"That's insane. She's insane." "I know, right? But at least she's cute, though."

"Yeah, she really is. You should see the way she scrunches her nose when she runs on the field. Totally cute." he gushes and you can only hum in response. "What about you, though? How's my management & sales senior doing?"

"It's pretty boring over here, I must say." you sigh. "Boring deals with boring people. Cannot complain though, not allowed." you both giggle. "You wanna guess what I did today?" he hums.

"I had a 20 minute shower." he groans in response. "No complaints and no banging on the door."

"You're killing me over here!"

"And when I got out, I asked for room service. Had some fried chicken, some pizza and now I'm even waiting for dessert!"

"Are you guys hiring? Maybe I can squeeze in my résumé and a couple of interviews."

"I'm not sure relationships between coworkers are allowed over here.."

"For a night like that I could leave my wife." all jokes aside, "Hey!" you instantly exclaim, feigned offense laced in your voice.

"I know, baby. I know. Just joking." you smile at him. "So... what are you wearing? Do you miss me?"

Before you could even think about a cheeky response. A big, loud, and clear. "EW!" is heard right on cue. There's your girl.

"Dad, you're so disgusting." you can hear your husband loud complaints as well as your daughter's perfectly clear light hearted insults to his father.

"So what? Is it a crime to love your mother? I'm not apologizing for that."

"You're both too old for this! At least don't do it in a common area on speaker!"

As you stay silent for a couple of seconds you get to hear the way they go back and forth as Hanni continues to emphasize how embarrassed she feels by your behaviour. Teens can be so intense, you cannot help but roll your eyes.

"Anyways... Mom? Are you there?" your girl asks.

"Yes, my lovely daughter. How are you? Do you miss me?"

"Incredibly much. Dad over here is embarrassing me at school and at practice as well." you smile at what she tells you. You miss this banter even though you get to have a taste just by the phone.

"I'm sure he is. I made sure to give him instructions on how to!" Hanni whines on the phone and you can hear Jungkook in the background making slight fun of her.

"So, mom..." "Yes?" "I've been thinking.. since you're already there.." You know exactly where this is going. "Can i send some stuff for you to buy? There's this new lip glo-"

"Jeon Hanni! You're in so much trouble. Why would you use your time to talk to your mom to ask her stuff?!" Hanni whines as Jungkook continues. "That is not how I raised you!"

"Dad, you're so annoying. For real."

To cut things short, you ended up compromising on bringing your daughter this new lip gloss everyone's talking about and a new water bottle she insists that will help her performance on football practice. Absolutely ridiculous, yet you agreed on buying it just to make her happy.

And at the end of the night, when you're unable to get some sleep as you shine in the glow the television gives you, you're awoken from your trance-like state by a message from your husband.

It's the best way to end a mostly perfect day. A pictured of him and your daughter cuddling on your big bed together, her hiding on his chest already sleeping with her mouth wide open and him being his usual cheeky self with his big doe eyes and sticking his tongue out.

"She always caves ❤️ we miss you, honey! Come back soon"

and you cannot wait.

[youling-the-ghost]

when two improv comedians can come up with a better love story than most Hollywood films

[blindmagdalena]

im so ❤️❤️ for creepy homelander rn! like stalker homelander, panty stealer, watching you sleep vibes.,,,,., my heart is full

he's just so terribly good at it.

who else is going to walk you home at night? it's dangerous out here for a pretty thing like you. it's okay that you can't see him. all that matters is that he can see you.

honestly it's cute how clueless you are. what would you do without him? he's been outside your place countless times and yet not once have you ever noticed him. he starts to feel bold. he wonders if maybe you do know, you just don't mind.

it makes leaving your window open seem like an invitation.

it's surreal to be inside the home he's watched from a distance. everything smells like you, but it doesn't stop him from picking up your shirt and pressing it to his mouth to take a deep huff. soft. everything about you is so damn soft.

especially when you sleep. he cocks his head while he stands there at the edge of your bed, watches you for a long while. your heart is steady, breaths shallow. you must be deep asleep then, dreaming away. dreaming of him, he hopes. he certainly dreams of you.

being so close is too much of a temptation. he wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. he ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. he can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. fuck, it's intoxicating, it's...

he brushes his lips ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. divine. you're divine. so unwittingly perfect. you don't even know. you have no idea.

he means to leave it there, but the pull is too great. he's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his. soft, soft, soft. he knew they would be.

he's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake and declare himself and finally have you.

not yet.

he leaves, but not empty handed. he doesn't think you'll miss that pair of panties. not as much as he'll enjoy them.

[dakogutin]

hiiii i just binge read all your fics and obsessed is an understatement!!!

idk if u take requests but i had an idea and it’s driving me crazy i just had to put it somewhere.

okay so i thought of it while reading the fic in which remus and sirius hear each other in bed at night.

well…. james and lily share quarters when tnehre head boy and girl, i know they don’t share a room exactly, but i was thinking: with all their tension building up throughout the years, especially that year, one of them hearing the other even if it was so so quiet would drive them crazy and i’d love to see your interpretation of how it goes.

i really hope you consider writing this but if you don’t thank you so much for all you’ve given the fandom!

ive never been thanked for giving to a fandom🥹🥹thankyousosomuch!

havent written exclusively jily smut yet but this one's for you anon<3

[cw for cute plot but with very filthy m/f smut below cut]

=-=-=-=-=-=

Head Boy and Head Girl. That was definitely one way to have her final year at Hogwarts, Lily thinks to herself. For one, she was forced to work with James Potter often. But the surprises didn't end there as she's progressively making sense of why James Potter became Head Boy.

In the first month she could still deny it, but with their rounds scheduled together, the endless meetings, and their regular check-in with Professor McGonagall, she can't avoid it anymore. James Potter was surprisingly and unfortunately... she shudders... responsible.

She tries-- very hard-- not to let anything show, especially knowing James Potter will run with any reaction he'll get from her. But the realisation hits her harder than a Hex sometimes. And it had been too much lately.

Like that time when they were deciding on which Prefect to assign on the fifth floor corridor. It's where their DADA professor had hidden a "secret special dark creature", and no one was permitted to use that floor for their own safety. The task of keeping that corridor empty fell on the Prefects. Lily had names ready, which included Lupin. She watched James' reaction and sure enough, he protested. He and his gang were always weirdly protective of that quiet Lupin.

"Davies can take Lupin's place."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "No one gets special treatment, Potter. I wouldn't have you use Lupin for whatever kind of mischief you otherwise reserved him for."

Potter held out his palms in the air and let out a small chuckle. "None planned, I'm afraid. Just that Davies is rather, how shall I call it..." He shrugs. "A bit of a pompous sod."

"And you'd rather have a pompous sod keep check of whatever dark creature is in there?"

"If the choice is either that or Peeves, Evans? Yep."

"What does Peeves have anything to do with this?"

As though he was waiting for that exact question, Potter leaned his head on the pillar as an arrogant grin on his face matched his tone. "Lupin is one of the few people who can go toe to toe with Peeves. There's Sirius, but he's out of the question. Not a Prefect and all that. Of course, I'm another option but I'll clearly be occupied, won't I?"

No words come to Lily. He was right. To think she was too caught up with the smaller picture of using Lupin to spite Potter.

"And," James adds, "Davies loves his authority. If anything, students passing by that floor wouldn't think twice in following what he says. While Lupin can help the first years get to their common rooms without being tormented by our resident poltergeist."

It's this point that Lily failed to contain the awe from her face.

"I know. I'm rather brilliant." James waggled his eyebrows.

She simply rolled her eyes in response then.

At present, she couldn't help but have all those other similar instances where James Potter surprised her of his maturity and dedication to his role fill her mind as she went searching for him. He just had to have Quidditch practice at the same time with their meeting, so now the task of passing him the minutes of meeting fell to her as Head Girl.

She could wait until tomorrow of course, but the thought of an unfinished business with James Potter didn't exactly sound appealing. She'd much rather be done with it as soon as possible.

The pitch was empty when she reached it. Practice must've been over. For a moment she dreaded the more complicated prospect of searching for James in the entire castle, but that was when she spotted Sirius Black.

"Where's your other half?" she demanded.

"Evans," he noted. "Good morning to you too." Then he proceeded his steps.

"Black, wait." Lily held out the paper. "Why don't you give him this."

He stared at it for a second, then glanced up to her. "I'm allergic to official documents. Sorry."

"Don't be an arse. I'm just asking you to pass it to him since you're attached at the hip anyways. And it would spare me the trouble of having to look for him."

"Do it yourself." Black grinned. "He's in the changing rooms, doodling the team's strategy like a proper swot."

Lily sighed. "Why can't you do it? Please," she added, begrudgingly.

Black shrugged, already walking off. "I'm not the Head Girl."

He was gone before she could even form a retort.

After dragging her feet to the changing rooms she found it as empty as the Quidditch pitch. Lily debated simply sending her owl, but in the end she decided against it since the Owlery is in yet another tower. She cursed Sirius Black in her head, dismissing this as some stupid prank. Honestly, why hadn't she expected that?

She then heard a distant noise. Someone was inside. Lily proceeded further and was about to call out Potter's name when she recognised the sound of water spraying down on tiled floors.

If this person really was Potter, he was in the middle of a shower.

Lily clamped her mouth shut and cursed Sirius Black again, retracting her steps as silently as possible.

As she turned for the exit she heard a noise from the shower. She thought it had been a hum-- that maybe James Potter was one of those people who sang while showering...

Except it was too faint and too guttural to be a hum.

When Lily heard the noise again, she was more than certain he wasn't singing. The noise shot right through her, leaving a shudder. She needed to leave. Now.

But as another soft moan echoed in the small room, Lily could distinctly tell it was indeed James Potter's raspy voice. And that just made everything worse.

Her face heated as it became harder to breathe. Suddenly all she could picture was James Potter-- just a few steps away-- completely naked, sopping wet... and touching himself. Her treacherous mind reminded her how he's always been showing off about his form and how he worked hard during the summer, plus with playing Quidditch all these years. The thought of that form he worked so hard on right now?

Lily swallowed, and that's when she realised her mouth was watering. She was mortified as much as she found herself frozen. Another moan slipped out from behind her, deeper and gruffer. And just like that her mouth wasn't the only thing that's wet.

She needed to go. She needed to go. She needed to go. "Fuck!" she hissed a whisper. This was wrong on so many levels.

One foot was out of the room when-- she dropped her wand.

Horrified, she didn't waste time picking it up and bolting out. She could only hope James Potter was... too busy... to have heard that.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Lily stayed at a deserted hallway overlooking the Great Lake for Merlin knows how long just collecting herself, questioning her life choices, and wondering if she should Obliviate herself. The thing is, distraction was just about impossible. She'd find herself circling back to all those sinful thoughts, and those sounds.

A voice broke through her spiral. She jumped at the unexpectedness but failed to make out the words. Turning to face the person, her knees almost gave out to the sight of none other than James Potter. He was still wearing his Quidditch uniform, which only sculpted his indeed very fit form. Why? Wasn't his practice over? Hadn't he already showered? Why did he have to wear that now?

She stared at him for a while and she saw how he was still expecting a response. "What did you say?" she asked dumbly.

Hands shoved in his pockets and grinning slightly, he stepped closer. "I said, are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" "Lily felt her breathing become unsteady once more and internally cursed herself. "And... why would you just come out of nowhere to ask me that? How did you even find me? What do you want?"

"Right," Potter chuckled. "You seem tense."

Lily took a deep breath. "I'm just tired. Look, I only meant to give you this." And finally, she was relieved from her task.

"Thanks, Evans." He said without sparing more than a second's glance at the paper.

"Sure." She then fixed her bag over her shoulder and walked past James Potter.

"Wa- where're you going?" He called behind her.

"Erm..." She hated that she didn't have an immediate reply. Anywhere was honestly better, with all those feelings she'd just shoved down already coming back to the surface as Potter looked at her with those round searching eyes. "My room."

"It's 4 in the afternoon on a Saturday."

"Your point being?"

Potter shut his mouth, whatever he wanted to say was left in his thoughts. "Nevermind."

"Okay... well, I'll see you around." Lily turned away once more.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"The answer is still no, Potter."

He laughed. "Not that." He stepped closer again, taking away the distance Lily just made.

"What is it..." She could smell his aftershave this close.

His glasses were skewed as his eyes scanned her. For the first time Lily felt an impulse to fix it on his nose. "Have you been looking for me?" he asked.

Lily had no idea how to deal with a James Potter like this. He was speaking in a softer voice and he was giving her a gentler gaze. It was far from his usual loud and uncaring tone along with his brazen grin. "I was," she replied. "Just to give you that."

"Right. And you were at the Quidditch pitch?"

She didn't like where this was headed. "Yeah. You had practice, of course that's where I'd look." At that, he simply nodded. "Why do you need to know?" she challenged.

James Potter's grin was back. "Guess I'm just curious."

Don't answer. Don't answer. Don't answer. "About what?"

He shrugged. "How long you can avoid what you know I'm talking about."

Lily decided to play his game. "What are you talking about?"

"Sirius told me he saw you," he said, stepping closer.

Lily held his gaze. "Oh? What else did he say?"

"That he told you where I was."

Nope. She couldn't do it. "Have you no shame?" Lily turned away, her cheeks heating up. "Whatever, okay. I didn't see anything."

Potter broke into a laugh. Of course he had no shame. "I didn't mean to make you... tense."

Still refusing to meet his face, Lily replied, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Evans," he called soflty, "I can tell your face is red."

"Maybe because this topic is largely inappropriate!"

"Alright, sorry," he said with another wave of chuckles. "I'm letting you go now."

Lily sighed in relief. "Thank you." She made one move to head off when Potter spoke once more.

"Just thought I'd let you know, I'd recognise your perfume anywhere."

There was just no way she was getting out of this unscathed. It became clear she should just stop resisting. Lily turned. "So, you knew I walked in."

Surprise was evident on Potter's face. Perhaps he expected Lily to walk away. "Not at first," he admitted.

"But you continued anyway." Lily took slow but consistent steps like a prowling cat, stopping right in front of Potter. He followed her every move with his gaze alone, half-lidded eyes trailed down to hers. "Would you do that if anyone else had walked in?" she added in a murmur.

Potter tilted his head. He had a dazed look, and his lips were parted. "You know I wouldn't."

Already this close, it didn't take much for their lips to meet in a kiss.

A shudder spread through Lily's skin in hearing a pleased but muffled sound from Potter. The thought of drawing more of those sounds from him filled her with dark anticipation. Big warm hands caressed her softly as she tugged on his hair. Too lost with the slick heat of James Potter's mouth, she gasped at the sudden solid brick of the wall against her back. James was crowding her there-- in the middle of the hallway where anyone could pass by and see.

"James..." she mumbled against his lips.

He responded with a groan, strong arms squeezing her. It was remarkably secure in his hold, and she could definitely feel his form. She took a self-indulgent moment to let her hands explore, never leaving his lips. From his sturdy chest to the narrowing of his waist. Merlin, she could do this for hours.

"Mmph..." James let out a deeper moan, and she felt it on her neck. "Lily..." His voice this close to her ear was nothing compared to hearing it in the shower. And for him to moan her name...

Lily's knees threatened to give out, and the certainty of being held firm by James almost convinced her. Instead, the palm on his chest pushed him until their lips were apart. "Not here," she whispered.

James stared at her for a while, still caught in a daze. She watched as her words settled in his mind, dilated pupils scanning her until they widened in realisation. Then, a smirk stretched his swollen lips. He looks as though the disbelief hasn't left him. That this really is happening. In all fairness, Lily couldn't believe it too.

"Wipe that stupid expression away and find us somewhere private, will you," she said with a chuckle.

His smirk stretched into a grin. "Yes, ma'am." He stole one last kiss before stepping back, pulling her with their linked hands.

James led them to an empty classroom. With a wave of his wand the lock clicked, and he was instantly back on her like a starved man, guiding her to the nearest desk. Lily welcomed every kiss before pulling his tight uniform over his head. "You found this room really quickly, huh." She couldn't help but notice.

"Hmm?" His shirt was now off, his hair was messier, and his glasses sat crookedly on his nose.

Finally, Lily fixed his glasses. "I just said, you seem to always know which places to look. You found me easily too, just earlier. I had to look for you for hours!"

Two blinks until he managed a response. "Oh." He shrugged. "Just... great sense of direction. May I?" he asked, glancing to the buttons of her shirt.

Lily gave him a look. "Since when were you a gentleman?" she said, then proceeded to unbutton herself. Much to her satisfaction, his eyes never left her hands.

"Since," he swallowed thickly, "since you bothered to find out."

"That doesn't make sense." Lily let her shirt fall from her shoulders and perched on the desk.

James' breaths were heavier. "No, it doesn't." His eyes stayed stuck on her breasts. He would lift his gaze to her eyes but they'd constantly fall back down. It was adorable.

With a fond smile straining her cheeks, Lily reached for James' hand and placed it on her left tit. "You can touch me, you know." She then pulled him closer, parting her legs to make space. "I want you to touch me."

A surprised laugh left James' throat. He bit his bottom lip, if only to contain his wide grin. "Fuck, Lily..." James surged forward into a desperate kiss, pressing down until Lily was lying back. Her skirt hitched up until it was now loosely around her waist. She could feel everything in this position, the most prominent being the erection against her own wetness, and the thrilling fact of being separated only by a few layers of clothing.

She bucked her hips impatiently, grinding against James. The groan she elicited from him went directly into her mouth. It's then she zeroed in on one goal. She needed to hear more.

While James' hands were otherwise engrossed with feeling up Lily's tits, she trailed hers downward, reaching for a buckle. James noticed with a gasp and pulled off to shoot her a look of pure want. Hooded eyes, heaving chest, and swollen lips curled into a grin. He was the image of a wet dream.

James watched as her deft fingers unbuttoned him, tugged his pants to pull out his hard cock. It fell right between her legs, sitting on top of the wet patch of her panties. Then, she stroked.

She was rewarded with a shaky moan from the man on top, his head dropped to rest on her neck as she found a rhythm. Right next to her ear, she could hear the shaky sighs and the small whimpers whenever she twisted her wrist just so. Then, an idea popped in her head.

"This was what you were doing in the shower?" she cooed.

"Oh, fuck..." he drawled before dissolving into a short laugh. He rocked his hips, aiding Lily's fist. It caused his cock to graze against her clit. She jolted in surprise just as a moan escaped her lips. "No," James continued, now gazing down at her. "This is infinitely better."

"James..." she whined, pleading. She didn't know what exactly, just that she wanted him to do something.

It's as though she flipped a switch in James' brain. He pulled up from lying on top of her, closed one hand around his cock and used his other to dip inside Lily's underwear, finally sliding his finger through her slick folds. Lily sobbed out a moan, her head falling back.

The finger stopped teasing and finally rubbed her clit. With Lily's mouth hanging open, she reconnected their lips until they swallowed each other's moans. Her hand that was still around his cock started jerking him off in time with his fingers. It prompted James to slip them inside her waiting hole and her other arm instantly flew around his shoulders, gripping tightly to ground herself from the whirlwind of pleasure.

They stayed in that perfect dance for a while as James' fingers tested different angles and eliciting different responses from Lily. When he found that delicious spot inside her, and she cried out from beneath him, he pulled out. Then, he got off her completely.

Before Lily could even form her protest, getting on her elbows to find exactly where he is, she was met with the sight of James getting on his knees between her legs. He delicately slid her knickers to one side-- then licked a stripe up her wet cunt.

Her head fell back down as she moaned hoarsely, a distant thought crossed her mind that hoped no one passed by this classroom, but it was quickly replaced by that same wave of arousal when she felt two fingers slip inside her again.

Just as she'd thought it couldn't get any better, James would moan-- and the vibrations went directly where his mouth kissed and sucked. It was too much.

"James!" She panted. "James, fuck, I'm... I think I'm go--" But James wasn't interested in helping her finish her sentence, speeding up his fingers, sucking harder, and moaning louder. She didn't stand a chance. Lily came in waves and waves, writhing in place as she was powerless to James' firm grip.

When the high subsided and she felt one with her body again, she didn't waste time pulling James up to his feet and smashing their lips to a heated kiss. Her hands crawled to his neglected cock, hot and leaking, and stroked him with all the intent to see him fall apart. His jaw fell slack and all he could do was turn into a mess of whimpers and groans.

A twitch in her hand told her he was close, and then he was coming a rope of hot white on her. It seemed forever that he recovered from his peak. "Fucking hell," he said after taking his first breath. "I don't think I came this hard in my life." He shook with laughter. The sight prompted a surge of emotion in Lily's chest that she couldn't help but drag him back into a long kiss.

The only coherent thought in her head was this couldn't be the last time this happened. "Ask me again, Potter," she said breathlessly, fixing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose.

It took him a long while to figure out what she wanted him to say, until finally, he grinned. "Lily Evans, will you go on a date with me to Hogsmeade?"

She mirrored his grin. "I'd go on a date with you wherever, James Potter."

The elation on his face could light up the entire castle on Christmas day. He let out one huff of laughter before collapsing on top of her and drowning her in kisses.