#but I’m not entirely satisfied with the lighting and shading

[fall-risk]

spider moment

[astermath]

mark of mine ⋆୨୧˚

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: you getting ready turns into something more intimate with your boyfriend. he doesn’t realize he’s about to go out with marks of your affection all over him.

word count: 1.4K

tags: established relationship, fluff, praising ethan for being the prettiest boy, him being so vulnerable to your kisses, marks of red lipstick, idk what else to put here lmao

notes: just a bit of a fluffy blurb, I’ll be trying out a new character soon but for now my ethan landry brain rot must be satisfied. please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related writing!

The room was filled with soft music, the smell of freshly applied perfume and dim, cozy lighting. The two of you were getting ready to head out with the rest of your friends to a party. Or, well, at least you were. Ethan was sat on your bed playing a mobile game, since all he really had to do was get dressed. Sometimes you envied him for not having to put in a lot of effort to look good, but then again, you did like the entire process of getting ready to go out.

You rummaged around your makeup bag, somehow not being able to find your favorite lip gloss, before you remembered you’d let Tara borrow it. You decide to look for something else, until your fingers came across a lipstick you hadn’t touched in forever. It was a gorgeous dark red, and you vividly remember begging your mom to get it for you when you were just a teenager. The memory brought a smile to your lips as the pads of your fingers touched the luxurious packaging.

You looked back into the mirror and took off the cap, twisting the lipstick up and gently applying it to your lips. The texture was smooth, creamy, the color resembling a deep, almost blood-like shade of scarlet red. It worked so well with your skin tone and your features, you wondered why you hadn’t touched it in so long.

You ran it across your bottom lip, twisting the lipstick back down again and putting it away before you rubbed your lips together, releasing with an audible ‘pop’. You admired yourself in the mirror, before a pair of familiar hands distracted you.

Ethan hummed softly, hands finding their place on your hips as he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck. “Hmm… You almost done? I’m getting lonely just sitting on your bed…”

You turn around to face him, hands sneaking up his chest and settling on his shoulders as your back bumped against the sink. “You’re so impatient…”

He leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours, thumbs gently running circles over your hips. “Can you blame me?” He leaned further down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Hm… You look so pretty…” He smiled against your lips. Funny he was saying that right when he had his eyes closed to kiss you.

You returned the kiss, body relaxing under his touch. Of course he always thought you looked gorgeous, often sneaking glances at you even if you two weren’t talking, and complimenting you any chance he’d get. But seeing you all dolled up like this, it truly brought something out in him. And when you’d put on that fancy perfume, he’d always be all over you by the end of the night. 

You pulled away and held his face, eyes widening just a little at the slight red stain on his lips. Now you remembered why you didn’t wear this lipstick that much again, it was not transfer proof whatsoever. But that just gave you an idea...

You smiled gently and placed another kiss on the corner of his mouth. A perfect kiss mark adorned his face, and he had no idea. “Hm... We have some time before we have to head out, right?”

“Wh... Oh, uh, yeah... I think so.” He always got so into kissing you, he sounded a little out of it afterwards. “Why?”

“No reason in particular, just wanna spend some alone time with my boyfriend.” You grinned, having to hold back a giggle at the sight of your lips marked onto his skin. You took his hand and guided him back to the bed, getting on his lap when he sat down, straddling his hips. Your dress hiked up just enough to expose your thighs, those gorgeous thighs he could never get enough of. Even now, his hands gravitated towards them, settling gently on the soft flesh.

You leaned in again, one hand sliding into his curly hair, gently scratching his scalp as you peppered gentle kisses over his cheek, before moving onto his jaw. “You’re so pretty...” You mumbled against his skin. You felt Ethan’s hands grip your thighs just a little harder, his hips shifting slightly at your words. He was so easily influenced by you, like your presence alone excited him. 

You dipped down to his neck, his breath getting caught in his throat when you kissed the sensitive skin below his jaw. His hands started moving back and forth, softly rubbing, almost massaging your thighs. 

“My pretty boy...” He could practically hear the smile on your lips when you whispered into his ear, shivering when you nipped at his earbud. The kisses on his neck got more intense, and he responded well to them, making sweet noises as reward for your efforts. He spoke your name softly, almost as a warning, as if to say “if we keep going, I’m going to have a problem”.

You pulled away, looking at him and feeling satisfied with the masterpiece you’d created on his face. He was a little flustered, pink cheeks decorated with deep red marks of your affection. Your lipstick was perfectly intact, but anyone else looking at him would quickly realize what you two had been up to before. 

You were rudely interrupted by a loud notification on your phone, startling you both. 

[chad]: r u guys coming or are u too busy fucking?

[mindy]: please don’t be fucking rn

[chad]: they’re def fucking

[tara]: U GUYSSS just get down here already it’s cold :’(((

You smiled at the screen and texted back a quick “omw!” before tossing your phone to the side.

“Alright, we should head out. The others are getting cold waiting for us downstairs.” You pressed a final kiss to his cheek before getting off his lap. Ethan’s hands remained in place for a moment, ghosting over where your thighs had just been, not fully registering your words yet.

“Right! Right, we should uh... Yeah.” He adjusted himself a little and grabbed his jacket as you put on your heels. 

You were already downstairs, waiting with the rest as you were trying to defend your case of not having sex with your boyfriend right before you were going out.

“Right, what else would have been taking you two so long?” Anika rolls her eyes and teasingly bumps her hip against yours. 

“I’m telling you, I seriously couldn’t find my phone!” You giggled.

“Alright, alright, let’s just hope he hurries up so we can actually go.” Mindy said, hands rubbing her own arms to keep herself warm a bit. “I love your lipstick by the way, I’ve never seen you wear it before.”

You smile at her compliment, and right as you wanted to respond, the sound of the front door opening interrupted you. Everyone turned to look at Ethan walking outside, a smile on his face as he waved.

“Hi! Sorry it took so long, I seriously couldn’t find my keys.” His smile faded a bit when he noticed everyone was staring at him. You felt your own cheeks heat up at the sight of his kiss marked face. In the heat of the moment, you’d completely forgotten to tell him to take it off, and now your alibi for what you were up to earlier was totally ruined.

“Are... You guys okay? Do I have something on my face?” Ethan questioned, oblivious as usual. Chad broke out in laughter at those words, and the rest followed soon after as you brought your hands up to cover your embarrassed face.

“Oh, man! You guys suck at lying!” Chad says between fits of laughter. 

Ethan opens the camera on his phone and his eyes widen at the sight. “S-Shit, I didn’t realize your lipstick rubbed off on me like that.”

Tara and Anika had already snapped multiple pictures of Ethan’s face, so there was no way either of you were ever going to live this one down.

“Alright, alright, very funny, haha.” You try to interrupt. “You might wanna go wash that off babe.” You look at Ethan, and he nods with a bit of a nervous smile.

“I don’t know girl, I think it’s a look!” Tara comments, and they all laugh again.

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, you agreed. 

That picture Anika took of Ethan became your lock screen soon after. 

tag list <3

@kometqh 

[hmusunoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘

desc. │ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴊᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ɴᴜʀꜱᴇʀʏ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ.

warnings. │ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ

“This pink …or this pink!” You had been in the paint aisle of this store for at least an hour rummaging through the various shades of pink in the hopes of finding the perfect one to adorn the walls of your child’s nursery.

Jay followed you like a happy little puppy giving pointers when he felt necessary but really only staring at you the entire time you shopped. He was enthralled by your enthusiasm, so hopelessly in love with you he enjoyed watching you pick out paint colors for crying out loud.

You held up two papers with what Jay thought was the same color pink. “Whichever one you want sweetheart” He smiled, kissing you lightly on your temple and pulling you close to his body. You whined squirming from his hold. “Jayyy” You protested cutely “Help me pick”

“They look the same to me” Jay laughed, grabbing the two sample papers and inspecting them closely. “They’re pink”

“Ugh boys” You scoffed yanking the samples from his hand. “This one” You enunciated “Is primrose pink” You held up the paper to his face allowing him all of a second to inspect it. “and this one is chalk pink. completely different colors babe” You spoke in a matter of fact tone that made Jay’s heart swell. You were just too cute he couldn’t help it.

“Hmmm…” Jay said again making a show of inspecting the two samples “I think i prefer primrose pink, right?” He held the card out to you. Your dainty fingers grabbed at the paper brushing lightly againsts Jay’s fingers, he flipped your palm over before you had the chance of pulling away intertwining your hands together.

“Are we done now? are you satisfied?” He asked smiling. You let out a little huff of air before looking down at the samples one more time then nodding primly. “Okay, primrose pink it is”

The two of you began your venture to the check out lane stopping a few times to look at things that may have caught your eye. Nothing promising enough to buy though. Once you checked out you happily made your way home eagerly awaiting setting up your baby girls nursery.

You were about seven months along now, your stomach round and heavy as your baby grew. You and Jay were excited to become parents something you had always discussed when talking about your future together. And although this pregnancy was an unplanned surprise it didn’t make you any less excited. You were starting a family with the love of your life.

Upon arriving home Jay carried all the bags and paint tins upstairs and into the empty room that would soon become the nursery.

You clapped excitedly following behind him grabbing at the plastic bags to get everything out that you needed to get started.

“Don’t over exert yourself sweetheart” Jay laughed “I’m here to help you.”

“I’m so excited!” You squeaked pulling a little pink bunny plush from the bag. “This is so cute!” You were gushing over all the small things you had gotten pulling everything out until there was a heap of things on the floor.

“We should start painting first, that will take the longest with the drying and everything” Jay said grabbing all the necessary tools to paint.

“Oh! i forgot” You sprinted from the room in a hurry running to your closet to grab two smocks that you had ordered especially for this in mind. You skipped back into the nursery handing Jay his smock. He took it in his hands looking it over before letting out a belly aching laugh. “Daddy bear?” He wheezed holding the smock up right. It was a light blue smock, at the top of the pocket on the front of the smock was a tiny teddy bear poking its head out of the pocket. The words daddy bear engraved just below it.

“Mine says Mommy bear” You said holding up the nearly identical smock, the only difference being yours was a light pink opposed to the blue that was Jay’s.

Shortly after laughing at your choice of smocks, you and Jay got to work on painting the nursery. The sound of music playing over the loud speaker and your voices yapping away about unimportant topics was all that was heard throughout the small apartment that you and Jay shared.

After nearly two hours of painting the walls were almost finished, your feet had began to hurt so you decided to take a breather sitting yourself in the rocking chair that had been placed in the corner of the small room.

“are you tired baby?” Jay said turning to look over at you, a small spec of pink paint had dried up on his cheek the sight of it making you giggle. “I’m just take a break” You said in between your laughs.

“What are you laughing at?” Jay was confused stepping down from the step stool that he was on. He walked over to you a small smile on his face. “You have a little-“ You reached your hand out, fingers ghosting over the small amount of paint of his cheek.

“A little?-“ Jay questioned the smile on his face morphing into a smirk. You blamed your pregnancy brain for not catching on that he was teasing you, planning an attack on you at this very moment.

You innocently brought your hand up again, reaching to show him where the paint had dried but before you reached him, his hand softly latched onto your wrists moving it over and out of the frame of your face before he quickly lifted the paint brush in his hand smearing pink paint down your cheek.

The small spec of paint was nothing compared to what now adorn your face. A gasp of surprise left your plump lips as Jay hunched over in a fit of laughter. “Park Jong-seong!” You shrieked. “How dare you!” You let out a laugh, Jay’s smile widening at the angelic sound.

“I’m sorry baby-“ Jay said taking a break to catch his breath from all the excessive laughing. “Actually…no i’m not” Your eyes widened before forming into slits. “You look too adorable when you’re trying to be angry sweetheart” Jay teased.

“Whatever” You huffed crossing your arms over your chest in fake annoyance. Little did Jay know an idea was brewing in your mind.

“Do you happen to have those sticker hearts for the walls?” You asked Jay changing the subject with haste. Jay’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “um..in the bags i think” He said pointing at the two unopened plastic bags you had left.

You ripped open the bag in a hurry grabbing the sticker hearts from out of it.

“We should continue painting” You said innocently over your shoulder. Jay nodded rummaging through his supplies to find a different paint brush and started painting once again.

After another coat and several minutes later Jay had finished with the painting for the night. You twiddle with the packet of sticker hearts in your hand readying yourself to hurriedly stick them on Jay’s face.

You found the perfect opportunity when Jay had crossed the room to approach you, sweeping you into to his arms kissing your forehead a few times.

“I’m beat” He sighed lips smushed against your cheek as he spoke.

“Me too” You whispered lifting your hand just slightly so he wouldn’t notice what you were doing.

“I’ll run us a bath” He sighed, closing his eyes in contentment the moment was almost too perfect to disrupt. Too bad you were competitive and you weren’t going to let what happened earlier go.

In a rush you lifted your hand smashing the sticker hearts to Jays cheek and swiping quickly at them with a paint filled brush. The hearts now sloppily embellished into his skin with paint.

Jay jumped up the surprise written on his face as he pulled the stickers from his cheek analyzing the hearts that were now over his face.

You let out a giggle. “Got you!”

—

sorry for the rushed ending ): hope yall like this cute little short fic! Jay is so sweetie pie.

[niki-phoria]

降り注ぐ光は / 願い込めた shooting star

pairing: zhang hao x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 564

notes: spent so long finding an icon for this header lmao, if anyone has any kdrama/cdrama recs pls let me know i am starved for ideas and shows to watch, this is not proofread !! please forgive any mistakes <33, title from &TEAM - FIREWORK

ZHANG HAO looks the most handsome when he’s all dressed up. hair meticulously styled to frame his features; a fitted suit wrapped perfectly around his frame; the soft, inviting smile that always seems to put your nerves at ease. 

beneath the golden hue of your bathroom lights, you dance around each other in front of the sink. hao smiles softly. his hands feel soft when they take yours into his own, unconsciously intertwining your fingers together. the faint smell of cologne lingers against his skin; he smells of vanilla and citrus. he smells like summer. he smells like home.

butterflies race throughout your stomach when he gently tugs your hand upwards before pressing a series of fleeting kisses against your knuckles. hao’s lips just barely ghost against your skin - so faint that you almost miss the feeling entirely. 

you quietly chuckle, relenting enough to take a step closer. you can feel hao’s satisfied smile against the palm of your hand. his fingertips dance against your skin. “you look incredible,” he murmurs. 

“you don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” the compliment makes heat rise to hao’s cheeks, staining his skin an embarrassing shade of light pink. the sight makes you smile a little brighter. 

hao leans in, resting his chin against the curve of your shoulder. his hands ghost against your waist, fingertips toying with the fabric of your clothing. “hao,” you whine but wrap your arms around his neck nonetheless. your fingertips brush against his shoulder blades, careful not to wrinkle the freshly ironed fabric. “if we don’t leave now, we’ll never make it there.”

“then let’s just stay home,” he whispers. his voice sends shivers down your spine from the proximity. hao’s hands slip to rest comfortably against your hips as he leans his head into the crook of your neck. you squirm at the feeling of feather-light kisses being pressed against your bare skin.

your breath hitches in your throat when hao pulls away just enough to cup your face in his hands. his fingertips trail along the edge of your jawline; his gaze flickers from meeting yours down to your lips. your eyes flutter closed almost unconsciously. 

hao’s lips are soft when they finally meet yours. you can vaguely taste his strawberry chapstick he had applied only minutes prior. your bodies move together in tandem - as if you were made for each other. your arms snake around his shoulders, carefully carding through the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck. your touch makes goosebumps arise against his skin and the flush on his face darken. 

“do we really have to go?” he asks when you finally pull away. hao’s nose brushes against yours, making you laugh. his hands reach up to cup your face. his thumbs gently stroke against your cheeks. “we can just stay home.”

taking one of hao’s hands into your own, you caress his knuckles with your fingertips. his skin is soft; the skin of his palms is calloused from years of meticulous violin practice. 

“one hour,” you say, turning to press a chaste kiss against his cheek. a light flush spreads across hao’s cheeks, just barely covered by the thin layer of foundation coating his smooth skin. twisting around to face him, your fingers trail against the freshly ironed fabric of his suit. “we’ll walk around for one hour. and then i’m all yours.” 

if you liked this fic, please comment, reblog, or leave feedback !! and if you want to support me, check out my zb1 masterlist <33

[koiiiji]

author's note ; based on 🪷 anonie reposts in tiktok

author's note ; what we celebrate here today is 533 followers!!! thank you guys so much! love you all… and sometimes stalk u… anyway sooo, um. special thanks to all my mutuals and other authors in wb and lookism fandoms! always motivate to write more💌🌷💞🧺🎀🫧🩰🫶🏻😵‍💫

tw ; f!reader, fluff

it was one of those days where everything felt a bit off.

you were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, nursing a heating pad on your lower abdomen. the cramps were relentless, but your boyfriend had insisted on keeping you company.

he sat next to you, pretending to be engrossed in the movie playing on the tv, but you could tell by the way he kept glancing at you that he was far more interested in how you were feeling.

“how are you holding up, babe?” he asked, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“surviving,” you sighed, leaning into his touch. “just the usual.”

he flashed a grin, the kind that was equal parts cocky and endearing. “you know, if there’s anything i can do to make you feel better…”

you gave him a side-eye. “you’ve already brought me snacks, set up a marathon of my favorite shows, and massaged my back. you’re doing more than enough.”

but he wasn’t satisfied. he scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. before you could protest, he pulled you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest. “what are you —”

you didn’t get to finish your sentence. he buried his face in your hair, planting soft kisses along the curve of your neck. you couldn’t help but melt a little at the warmth of his embrace. he was so good at this — making you feel loved and cherished, even when you felt like absolute crap.

“who’s my little ketchup bottle, hmm?” he murmured against your skin, his voice dripping with playful mischief. you froze for a second before bursting into laughter. “what did you just call me?”

he grinned wider, tightening his arms around you. “you heard me. my little ketchup bottle.” his fingers began to tickle your sides, and you squirmed, trying to break free from his grip, but he was too strong.

“babe, stooop! i’m gonna —”

but he didn’t stop. he just kept tickling you, his laughter mingling with yours, his lips brushing over your ear as he repeated the silly nickname. “who is it? who’s my little ketchup bottle?”

you were laughing so hard tears were starting to form in your eyes. you tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he only squeezed you tighter. it was almost too much — the tickling, the ridiculous nickname, the warmth of his body wrapped around yours. and then, suddenly, you felt it.

the sensation was unmistakable. you froze, mid-laugh, your entire body going stiff.

“let me go,” you said, your voice suddenly serious.

he, still grinning, didn’t catch on at first. “what’s wrong, babe? can’t handle being my ketchup bottle?”

“i’m serious. let me go. now.”

his grip loosened immediately, the playful light in his eyes fading as he registered your tone. “why? what’s wrong?”

you hesitated, feeling the panic rise in your chest. but there was no point in sugarcoating it. “i think i just gave birth.”

his eyes went wide, all the color draining from his face. “what?!”

you rolled your eyes at his dramatics, though you couldn’t help the nervous laugh that escaped you. “not like that. i mean… one of my organs is dying right now, if you forget babe, and a big clot of it just… came out.”

it took a second for your words to sink in, but when they did, his face turned a pale shade of green. “oh… oh!”

you scrambled out of his lap, making a beeline for the bathroom. he jumped up, hovering nervously by the door. “do you need help? should i call someone? do i need to —?”

“no!” you called out, already halfway down the hallway. “i just need to… handle this.”

as you reached the bathroom, you heard him muttering something under his breath, “never calling her a ketchup bottle again.”

you couldn’t help but smile, despite the discomfort. he might be a little over the top sometimes, but he was yours.

and that made everything just a little bit better.

JAKE KIM | ZACK LEE | GOO KIM | na jaegyeon | samuel seo | RYOHEI KURODA | hwangyeon choi | CHRIS D’CHAR | MAHON JO | DOM KANG | OWEN KNIGHT | kuroo tetsuro | BOKUTO KOUTARO | ATSUMU MIYA | oikawa tooru | tendou satoru

bonus ;

[broadwaybalogna]

Zutara prompt: During Zuko's recovery Katara asks him why he took Azula's lightning. For him, the reason couldn't be more clear.

Eeeeeek this is so cuteeeee

Me when Zutara fluff❤️❤️❤️

-

Zuko was in and out of consciousness the first five days after the Agni Kai. Nurses were rushing in and out of his room at all times during those days. The only thing that remained constant was Katara by his side.

When he first saw her, he hadn’t even remembered how they had gotten together in the first place, the memories of his Agni Kai with Azula still blurry. Then, when he finally had time to reassess himself, he let out a sigh of relief.

Katara was safe, and that meant they won.

Every so often, he would awake to Katara healing him, her hands placed right where the throbbing pain of a lightning strike lay. When her hands were over his chest, however, the pain would subside, and he could properly relax into her touch.

If Katara ever recognized him waking up, she never acknowledged it, her sole focus being on healing him.

He would relax his eyes and fall back asleep after that.

Zuko was finally able to have conversations a week after the Agni Kai, and was soon moved to the Fire Lord’s palace where he would be in the care of Katara and a few other nurses.

“Thank Tui and La you’re okay!” Katara exclaimed when she saw him awake in his own bed.

“Katara,” he rasped out, attempting to start a conversation but falling into a coughing fit.

“Don’t speak! Here, let me get you some water.” Katara left the room only to return two minutes later with a large class of water for Zuko.

Zuko took a few sips and let his body relax to the refreshing water.

“Now,” Katara said, placing a hand on Zuko’s bed beside him, “what were you thinking!? Jumping in front of lighting!? Why!?” She nearly screamed, making Zuko jump at her outburst.

Her eyebrows were knitted with confusion, and her eyes were watery. She quickly dragged her palm against her eyes to make sure no tears spilled. Zuko finally got a good look of her face. Her nose and waterline were a light shade of pink, meaning that she had probably been crying earlier.

Zuko swallowed hard, he didn’t know how to properly convey his emotions through words, there was little he actually knew how to do through words.

After a few long moments of the two of them looking at each other, Zuko finally spoke.

“It was the honorable thing to do,” he affirmed with a sharp nod of his head.

Katara’s mouth gaped open, then closed, then open again. Her eyebrows knitted closer together as she took in Zuko’s entire figure.

“You’re lying,” she said after ten seconds.

“What?”

“You have a tell. You’re lying.”

Zuko was not lying. Why Katara beloved such a conspiracy was beyond him. He scoffed at her and crossed his arms.

“Tell me the truth!” She pleaded, searching for answers on Zuko’s face.

Zuko watched her with his one good eye. She seemed so distraught, it was a horrible position to see Katara in.

But he wouldn’t back down.

Deep down, Zuko knew he wasn’t telling the entire truth. He knew he was giving excuse after excuse, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t allow him to say anything more.

“Zuko, please! You could have died. You don’t just sacrifice your life for someone because it was the honorable thing to do, that’s stupid! God, you’re so stupid,” she yelled, pacing around Zuko’s new room.

“Fine, then I’m stupid. I’m one big block of stupidity. Does that satisfy you?”

“No!” She nearly screamed, “why did you do it!? Why would you kill yourself for me?”

“Because I love you, Katara!”

Silence.

She looked at Zuko’s face and her eyebrows finally relaxed.

They kept their positions, staring at each other for what seemed like hours.

Then, under her breath, Katara mumbled something incomprehensible.

“What?” Zuko softly spoke.

“I said that you’re so horribly stupid,” she nearly cried as she ran up to him and pressed her lips against his.

Zuko’s eye widened in surprise at her gesture, then he closed them, leaning into her touch.

When she finally pulled away, she staggered back.

“Spirits, I’m so sorry— I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Zuko felt himself cut her off as he laughed at her outburst.

“What are you doing,” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I’m stupid,” he swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued, “I must be the dumbest person in the world.”

Katara smiled as she walked back towards him.

“Me too,” she chuckled as he lightly grabbed her head and pulled her into another kiss.

[dumpsterfire-allavita]

Context- I had been commissioned for this piece. Being in a financial pickle I picked it up and immediately set to work on it. Since I’m in need of money I put my all into the request to make sure it checked every box they could need. It turned out amazing I think! However I just checked our chat where I put the almost finished piece to find their account deleted. What’s worse is I had given them an update without my signature on it since it was unfinished and all…so if you see it floating around please message me!

Without further adeu~ the piece!

╔══*.·:·✧ ☎️ ✧·:·.*══╗

Information

I was messaged by the user Freaky (later changed to Dust) for the commission of their two Characters Brimstone and Karma. Ecstatic we began consultation!!

They decided on a photo reference from the anime “Soul Eater”. They liked the old anime style and requested their piece would be similar. That meant a full body with simple background but a lot of technique put into the old anime style! Ofc I wouldn’t shy away from the challenge (since my bills won’t shy away from me- the apple did not work on the doctor….no matter how hard I threw it)

Upon requesting their budget they said between 130-200$ which worked fine with me. I always tend to under charge anyhow. Due to my needs this time was no different. I assured they would receive updates to let them know how the piece was going and that I would collect their input on any fixes needed. They agreed and without further wait I began.

『•🪱•✎•🪱•』

[ T o o l s ]

✦ Cheap sketchpad

✦ Mechanical Pencil 7.0 lead

✦ My Phone (to send to the iPad)

✦ Fathers IPad (Im broke don’t judge)

✦ Procreate

✦ Color Pencil procreate brush pack

✦ Lineart procreate brush pack

✦Paint procreate brush pack

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°⁀✎ 🫎 P R O C E S S 🫎 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°⁀✎

Once saving the many provided refs I began by creating character reference sheets. Due to the customer not being artistic they provided me with several other commissioned pieces of their characters. Not all…looked the same… so I created these sheets to compile the parts that fit the personalities portrayed. Then I checked in with the user to figure out which features looked most like what they imagined for the characters.

Then I continued with the base sketch of the pose. The original reference for the pose didn’t entirely fit the characters so I chose to tweak it. I think I like the way they interact on the piece. I even made them doing rock paper scissors if you pay close enough attention! Karma lost but well…Brimstone would get what was coming for it later lol.

After all that it was finally digital art time!!! So I put my color references sent to me before adding the anime ref and my character refs. On the iPad I started with adding the details of the characters and sketching the pieces in further.

When that looked good I shifted the background a little to see it all before doing the motorcycle. (This is the first one I’ve ever drawn too- I know it’s funky! Don’t look too close)

Once the sketch was confirmed I began lineart. The title was changed to say Brimstone in big and in Japanese it reads “Freak Karma” the user of the customer and their second character.

Following that was color blocking which absolutely murdered me! I simply started with a big blob and did Alpha lock. Then I continued to block out base colors. Probably the worst experience of my life…goodness..

After I did a big dark brown layer with the opacity lowered for the look of a darker environment. From there I lightly erased the spots for lighting.

Then it was additional coloring and shading to the color block layer followed by additional erasing on the shadow layer. Building it up until I was satisfied.

Finally I did two layers- a layer for specific color lighting such as the flames reflection and the color to their skulls and a layer for the black and white liner.

All that was left was adding noise, Bloom, and a little bit of halftones to achieve the desired look.

With everything done I added my signature into the mirror on the bike!

ALL THIS ON ONLY 4 LAYERS! Due to the sheer size of the canvas (6000 pixels by 5000 pixels (ish)) I was only able to have 4 MAX layers. So pain…

🪳✨ Time ✨🪳

//this is the longest I’ve ever spent on a piece btw! (These are timed and rounded down to the simplest form. So these are all slightly UNDER what I actually did.)

Ref sheets 🎨 45 min

Layout Sketch 🔆 24.3 min

Digital Sketch 🛏️ 1 hour 30 min

Lineart 🍿 8 hours

Color Blocking 🥲 23 hours

Lighting + Final touches 👍 1 hour 25 min

Total- WAY TO FREAKING LONG! This has 26,543 strokes on it!!!!

Anywho! I hope you enjoy the piece as I sure as heck have not due to my suffering and now lack of money that I now have to try and find elsewhere with bills gripping my now every thought.

If you’d like to commission me I’ll have to ask for a base payment upfront now due to this situation. I am unable to spend such time to provide my very best just to be left when I truly need the money.

Thank you for your time!

[bestloversfan]

We're in 2023, and there are still people trying to argue that Katniss was aro/ace and never felt romantic/sexual attraction for Peeta... 🤦🏻‍♀️ I could write a long meta about this for the milionth time, but this time I'll do something different. I'll just show some quotes from the books.

If she was unable to feel romantic/sexual attraction and only ever had platonic feelings for him, what are all of these quotes supposed to mean?

"He gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me." (The Hunger Games)

"This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another." (The Hunger Games)

"So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck,’ says Peeta. For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love not actually being in love." (The Hunger Games)

[...]"His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I’ve seen flashes of this before: in the arena, or when he speaks to a crowd, or that time he shoved the Peacekeepers’ guns away from me in District 11. I don’t know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don’t notice much because they’re so blond. But up close in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they’re a light golden color and so long I don’t see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.

One afternoon Peeta stops shading a blossom and looks up so suddenly that I start, as though I were caught spying on him, which in a strange way maybe I was. But he only says, “You know, I think this is the first time we’ve ever done anything normal together.” (Catching Fire)

"I don't know what I expected from my first meeting with Peeta after the announcement. A few hugs and kisses. A little comfort maybe. Not this." (Catching Fire)

“When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight to them. It’s the first time since they announced The Quarter Quell that he’s offered me any sort of affection. He’s been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tighly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in closer and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I won’t be the first to let go." (Catching Fire)

"I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.

'I do', I say. 'I need you'." (Catching Fire)

"I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.

This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind." (Catching Fire)

"When I wake, I have a brief, delicious feeling of happiness that is somehow connected with Peeta." (Catching Fire)

"I sit next to Peeta on the sand to eat my rolls. For some reason, it's difficult to look at him. Maybe it was all that kissing last night, although the two of us kissing isn't anything new. It might not even have felt any different for him." (Catching Fire)  

"I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it’s soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself." (Mockingjay)

"I’m light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He’ll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones I haven’t dared let myself consider until this moment." (Mockingjay) 

“Sometimes when I’m alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone, he's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone." (Mockingjay)

"Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me." (Mockingjay)

"On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. [...] So after, when he whispers, 'You love me. Real or not real? I tell him, 'Real'." (Mockingjay)

There's more quotes like that, but I think these are enough. Now, can you all please stop pretending that these quotes don't exist and accept the fact that there's canon evidence refuting the belief that Katniss was aro/ace and never felt romantic/sexual attraction for Peeta? 😑

[withclawandvine]

GOT LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD — might as well be drunk in love

summary: Elain was supposed to be in paradise with her fiancè, not alone at an airport bar, held hostage by a storm. Lucien was only supposed to be in Las Vegas for a few days on business, before flying back home on the Vanserra jet. They weren’t supposed to meet, but fate is funny like that.

read on ao3: ch. 1 | ch. 2

author’s note: hello, yes i am finally here with chapter two of my @elucienweekofficial fic!! (please clap)

When Elain woke up, she was finely dusted with gold glitter. It decorated the backs of her hands and trailed up her arms. When she sat up and rolled her stiff neck, a shower of gold flakes fell from her hair into her lap and the soft cream leather of the seat under her. 

Her first thought was that she’d somehow managed to catch that 6:00 a.m. flight in a drunken stupor. 

Her second thought was that there was no way she was on a Delta aircraft. Her seat was fully reclined and far too comfortable. The interior was warmly lit and spacious — there were only six front-facing seats. The rest of the cabin was reserved for a long couch-like seat, and a table with four chairs. 

One of which was occupied. 

A mass of tangled, gold-dusted red hair spilled over the glossy dark wood. Softly snoring and slumped face first into his crossed arms, Elain couldn’t see the man’s face, but she didn’t have to see to know that she was on a private jet with Lucien Vanserra. The man from the Las Vegas airport. 

But why…

The memories that came back to her were few, hazy, and gilded.

The burnished gold fountain was at least three times Elain’s height and ornately sculpted, lit in such a way that the streaming water looked like it was ablaze. It was the centerpiece of a cavernous atria, lined with lush plants in marble pots and floors so shiny you could see your reflection. She had been expecting something… kitschier. Themed after another country, or neon. 

She stopped walking to take it all in, mouth slightly ajar. Lucien continued toward the concierge’s desk, a small station at the back of the room, not to distract from the splendor. Her suitcase hobbled noisily behind him, looking older and shabbier than ever before.

 How could letting her stay for free at a place like this be no trouble at all? 

It took Lucien a few paces to realize Elain was no longer in step with him. He threw a quizzical look over his shoulder. “Coming?” 

“I…” Elain shook her head, self-conscious and disbelieving. “I really can’t ask you to do this.” 

“Then it’s a good thing I’m offering.” 

It had taken that offer, insistence, and a call to the front desk on speakerphone to convince Elain to step out of the shelter of the airport and into an Uber. Then it had taken Lucien the entire slow, cautious drive to the Strip to convince her that he didn’t expect anything in return. 

After checking — or rather, simply picking up room keys from the woman working the desk and informing her comp both under his business account — Lucien turned to Elain with a satisfied smile. He offered her a key, but as she made to grab her suitcase, he pulled it to his side, just out of her reach. 

“Before you go,” he said, nodding to his right. “Would you care to join me for a drink?” 

Her eyes followed the direction he indicated and spotted the entrance to a dimly-lit restaurant that looked like it had a dress code. One that did not include pastel athleisure. As if reading the thought on her face, Lucien waved a careless hand, “Nobody will say anything.” 

The In front of me, anyway, was heavily implied. 

Elain simply nodded, but the Who are you? was heavily implied.

—

The beam of light that came from uncovering the small window by her seat felt like taking daggers through both eyes. Squinting through the pain, Elain could see that the clouds were thin and sparse, and the sun was high, reflecting on the expanse of blue below. 

She slammed the shade back down and began rifling through her travel backpack. 

While she hadn’t been expecting to find some sort of key to understanding where the hell she was, she was still disappointed to find only what she’d packed: headphones, a half-empty water bottle, her phone — now dead — and then, mercifully, the rectangular pill organizer. 

It was still stocked from a trip to Aspen, which meant there was still plenty of Dramamine and Tums, set aside for Graysen and his nervous gut. Perhaps it was her preoccupation with everything else — including but not limited to waking up on a new acquaintance’s private plane — but seeing it didn’t send the same ache clanging through her as reminders of him normally did. 

The seatbelt sign was off, so she got up and shuffled over to the table where the acquaintance in question was still passed out. 

She wasn’t the only one covered in glitter; the gold flecks made his hair seem to burn like the sun right before the night chased it away. The many wrinkles in his white button-down were emphasized by the gold settling into every dip and divot. 

Up close like this, she could hear his soft snores, watch how each one rustled the strands of stray hair falling in his face. 

Only when she caught sight of her hand hovering in the space between them did Elain realize she’d been reaching to brush them away. 

For no discernable reason, Elain took a full step back before reaching out and prodding at him with a finger.  

Nothing. 

She put her whole hand into it, cupping a surprisingly strong shoulder and giving it a shake, which first yielded a grumble of protest, then a  a cloddish attempt at shrugging her off, and then finally, a cracked eyelid. 

Lucien blinked once, twice. Slowly at first, then a few more times in rapid succession. Elain knew when she finally came into clear focus, because he bolted upright — immediately wincing. 

“Good morning.” She said, and handed over her pocket pharmacy. 

—

The stout crystalline tumbler in front of Lucien held a generous pour of golden whiskey, neat. 

Elain thought back to her initial surprise that he hadn’t ordered one at the airport bar, and was a little satisfied to now know that her assessment of him hadn’t been entirely wrong. But more than that, she was thrilled by the idea that he might have requested the same drink as her as an excuse to talk to her.  

Not that he would have needed one. Lucien was, as Elain was learning, a fantastic conversationalist. Not just a smooth-talker, but an active listener. It was hard to tell if it was the alcohol or Lucien himself that made it so easy to open up. To tell him all the ugly little details about Graysen ending things with her within the same calendar year of her father’s passing.  

“Because,” she paused, holding up a finger for dramatic effect, “and I quote: You just aren’t yourself anymore, Ellie.” 

Lucien’s nose scrunched with distaste. “What a douche.” 

Elain shrugged noncommittally. It was easier to see that in hindsight, but it was still hard to agree when someone else said so. Being aware somehow made it all the more embarrassing, knowing she’d been blind to it for so long. 

“It may not seem like it now, but he did you a favor,” he said. “You could do much better.” 

Looking at his handsome face in the amber glow of the bar lights, she got the feeling he was right. The way he was leaning on the table, with his chin propped up by a fist, reminded Elain of the hero in a historical romance; raised on etiquette but pointedly ignoring it — rakish and impossibly charming. And still, he was eloquent, and asked thoughtful questions, and didn’t check his phone once while she described her work on the biggest wetland restoration project on the West Coast. 

It was… attractive. In a way that Elain wasn’t entirely prepared for and had no idea what to do about. It had been years since she’d flirted with anyone — she had met Graysen in undergrad, right before he dropped out to join his friend’s startup, and hadn’t been interested in anyone since. 

Not that it mattered. There was hardly a point in trying to charm a man she wouldn’t see after tonight. But at the same time, it was encouraging. Even if she crashed and burned, she’d never have to face him again. 

So Elain tilted her head in that way that had always made Graysen lose his train of thought. “And, am I doing better now?”

The grin that overtook Lucien’s face was borderline wolfish, and his tone was pure invitation, “I think that’s for you to decide.” 

It was not so much of a decision as it was a knee-jerk reaction, but Elain sat up straight. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d been leaning in. If she had been on a cliff’s edge, instead of a booth in an upscale hotel bar, she’d have plummeted to her death by now. 

She needed to steer them back to more solid ground. Clearing her throat, she asked, “What kind of business does your family do? With this place, I mean.” 

In all fairness, Elain was genuinely very interested to know what sort of position would grant him the power to bequeath a near-perfect stranger with a top-floor suite. And while she could admit that it hadn’t been her most graceful segue, she wasn’t convinced it was such an unskilled attempt that it justified Lucien blatantly laughing at her.  

Elain felt herself go hot from her collarbones to the tips of her ears, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the embarrassment of being laughed at, or a reaction to the laugh itself. Lucien laughed with his entire body — head thrown back, shoulders shaking, unapologetically loud and mirthful. Either way, she hoped he would attribute it to the three gin and tonics she’d drained. 

As it turned out, Lucien Vanserra was a proper blue blood; his ancestors were there when William Mulholland brought water to Los Angeles, and became the landlords of one of the most expensive cities in the world, before branching out to Sin City. 

This hotel was one of the first on the Strip, back in the forties. And for a long time, the only luxury hotel in Las Vegas, making it popular with the rich and famous. Elain recalled seeing a late-night special about Hollywood starlet Lidia Cervos and Ruhn Danaan’s torrid affair. They’d made headlines when the actress broke her long-term engagement with her former co-star and eloped with the up-and-coming musician, all in a matter of days. 

“They said this hotel is where they stayed to hide out from the press.”  

“It is,” Lucien nodded. “And that chapel is just down the block from here, actually.”  

—

“I was too drunk to remember my personal,” Lucien explained with a wince, opening the Outlook app. “I remember just handing the woman a business card.” 

Despite his jokes about being a glorified errand-boy for the family business, he received a tidal wave of emails. He had to scroll past dozens of them — none of which were spam, from what Elain could tell — before he found one from A Pair o’ Hearts Wedding Chapel.

The first attachment to load was a photocopy of a certificate of marriage.  

The loopy scribble at the bottom of the page looked more like a child’s rendition of a roller coaster track than her signature, snaking up and down the dotted line.  

Looking at it now, the dot over the I could pass for a car, disconnected from the track below and headed for disaster. Elain knew the feeling, and when she spared a glance at Lucien, she felt she wasn’t the only one.

Before either of them could say anything, the other image appeared.

Framed by a kitschy, heart-shaped arbor,  a man in a rumpled, two-piece suit dips a woman a dramatic kiss, amidst a cloud of gold confetti and glitter. Elain didn’t have to look down at her leggings and well-worn crewneck to confirm that that was her in the picture, knee bent at Lucien’s hip, supported by a splayed hand. His other hand disappeared into her hair, cradling the back of her head, as her back arched, relying heavily on his forearm for support.

Elain stared at the picture, trying desperately to remember that moment, to remember anything that happened after they left the hotel bar. 

They’re smiling into each other’s lips — big, toothy grins — and if Elain didn’t know better, she really would think the photographer really had captured the happiest day of somebody’s life. That getting married in athleisure to a man in a designer suit had been an intentional style choice. 

Elain took the liberty of dragging her thumb and pointer finger apart across the phone screen, zooming in on their bodies, introducing more details: the damp, rain-flecked clothes, her frizzy hair. 

All at once, she remembered the shock of the cold droplets on her face, racing down her back, contrasted by the warmth of Lucien’s hand in hers as they ran down the block. 

They say it’s a good omen! he’d shouted over the rain, their splashing footfalls. 

What is? 

Rain! On your wedding! 

Beside her, Lucien let out a long breath that turned into something of a dry laugh by the end. “Well, shit.” 

Elain couldn’t have said it better herself. 

—

Elain wasn’t even sure what Lucien was talking about when she interrupted him. But he was so handsome and so animated, and the temptation to kiss him had been overwhelming. 

She reared back, eyes wide with surprise, as if she’d been the one to get kissed mid-sentence. 

Lucien, meanwhile, was too busy looking smug to be shocked — a crooked smirk slowly on his face as Elain buried hers in her hands to block it out. Her cheeks felt hot against her palms for the whole two seconds she was shielded behind them, before Lucien wrapped gentle fingers around her wrists, guiding her hands away. 

“I’m sorry.” She blurted, grimacing. “I don’t normally do this. I just…” 

“Had to make an exception?” he interrupted, that smirk spreading into a full-blown grin.

Simply seeing she hadn’t upset him put Elain back at ease. She schooled her expression into solemnity, shaking her head a little. “You gave me no choice, really.” 

“It’s honestly my fault,” he agreed, leaning back in. “Forgive me?” 

The kiss was clumsy and tasted like whiskey, which Elain had never been fond of, but the heat of Lucien’s mouth and the spice on his tongue was tempting her to reconsider. 

Her hands on his chest and feeling his heart race under her palm had her walking back on her stance on public displays of affection, and the gentle way he held her face had her rethinking her newfound belief she would die alone. Elain pulled back and looked at him, thinking about Feyre’s weak stomach and the storm. Omens, she’d thought at the time, sent to warn her about disasters — of the natural or the supernatural sort. 

But now she wasn’t so sure. Now, she was thinking that maybe all of that had happened so she would wind up here. 

Here, at this hotel that was only a stone’s throw from the most storied wedding chapel in Las Vegas.

Elain had never considered herself to be particularly fanciful. But if this moment had taught her anything, it was that most of her previously held beliefs were nothing if not malleable. And that maybe she should also reconsider her commitment to being grounded and sensible all the time. 

“Lucien,” she said, clumsily reaching out and cupping his cheeks, mirroring his hold on her. He was alight with amusement, but Elain was suddenly feeling very serious. “Do you believe in fate?”

[takashi-tuesday]

takashi tuesday #8

They reached the campsite, and just like Sam said, it was a wasteland. While he preferred neighbors, he knew Keith would like it more if it was just the 3 of them. There were a few tents scattered on the edge of the site but no more than 4. 

Satisfied with the spot he picked, he parked the car and turned off the ignition. Then, he twisted over the seat to see if Keith had woken up yet, he was still sound asleep. He couldn’t help but smile fondly, Adam’s hand settled on his bicep, giving him a light squeeze. 

Shiro felt his face crumble a bit, he reached up to squeeze his hand back. Adam smiled. 

“Now, let’s wake up scruffy back there. I’m not unpacking alone.” He patted him twice, undoing his own seatbelt and getting out of the car. Right, that part..

They had been trying to wake him up for 5 minutes now. Adam, who already didn’t want to be here, was scowling. “We should let him wake up on his own, no one’s going to abduct him while we set up the tent.” Shiro made a face. “Knowing our luck, the second we turn our backs, he’ll wake up and freak out.” He heard the other hum thoughtfully before smiling. “I have an idea.” He grimaced. “I don’t like how you said that.” Adam waved him off, already digging into his bag. His hand emerged with a bag of beef jerky, he waved it and Shiro sighed. “Adam, you were just telling me; Keith isn’t an animal.” Adam’s lip twitched. “Neither are you but you always seem to gravitate towards me whenever I’m eating.” “Ha-ha, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Shiro was suddenly very interested in the clouds, darkening clouds. He frowned, shading his eyes with his hand as he tried to get a better look. “Do you think it’ll rain?” He tossed over his shoulder, he had moved around to the back of the car. He could hear Adam opening the bag, followed by quieter speaking. Guess it worked. He popped the trunk and Keith emerged from the side of the car. He still looked sleepy, his eyes red at the corners. “Morning sleepyhead.” Keith visibly cringed before making a face, he sniffed the air. Instinctively, Shiro did too. “Smells like rain,” Keith declared. He winced, Adam came into view, arms crossed. “You didn’t check the forecast, did you?” Shiro heard a rumble in the distance. “I..forgot.” He said slowly, like he didn’t believe himself. Keith glanced between the two, eating his jerky quietly. “Takashi.” Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be as much fun as he initially planned. “Adam.” He repeated back to him sweetly, the man didn’t look amused. “Look, our tent is layered, super sturdy. The wind won’t even bother us!” He added quickly, trying to convince the man before he turned the entire trip around. Before Adam could add his protests, Keith very intelligently added. “Even if the rain doesn’t bother us, we have to sit crammed in a tent all day.” That..was a very good point. “I didn’t think about that.” Shiro rubbed his face with a sigh. Adam had pulled out his phone and was checking the forecast, “It’s estimated to start sprinkling in about 2 hours and by the 3 hour mark it’ll be storming.” He supplied, leaning against the car. It’s already about 1830, turning in for the night by 2000 sounds decent. “We still have 2 hours, we could set up the tent, look around a bit and,,” He trailed off, he was starting to think they should just go back.

“We already came all the way out here, I’d be a waste of gas to go back now.” Keith complained, chewing thoughtfully. “As much as I hate to agree, I think it’d be best if we stayed at least one night.” Shiro paused his picking at his nails and smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.” Though neither of them were listening. “Why do you hate to agree?” Keith snarked. “Because I don’t like the rain, why else?” The teen scoffed, side eyeing him. “Yeah, right.” Adam smirked and continued to tease Keith who seemed like he was considering murder. 

It was sweet in a way to watch them bicker, what was less sweet to watch was the storm clouds creeping in over their unsuspecting head. 

“As much as I hate to interrupt this beautiful bonding moment, we should really unpack.”

-- Hello folks! Sorry this one is a little later in the day than usual, would you believe me if I said I forgot.. Anyhow, this is a direct continuation of this post! So read this one first for context. As always, Happy Takashi Tuesday!

[tokusaatsus]

LOVESICKNESS

ft. sakasaki natsume

© tokusaatsus 2022

warnings: love potions

Love in a bottle.

A fairly simple creation, Natsume thinks, all things considered. Especially for a magician of his calibre. The ingredients are straightforward enough to obtain, should you know where to look (as he does): the heart of a dove, an angel’s hair, a single speck of stardust, and the moon’s weeping tears.

Of course, it’s not all that easy as he makes it seem. Love is a hard enough emotion on its own, but to replicate it, fabricate it? It takes precision and finesse.

Still, Natsume has learnt under the tutelage of Wataru-niisan and his Mommy, two of the most knowledgeable magicians to walk the Earth. This little potion may be a little more time-consuming than he’d like it to be, yes, but it’s nothing compared to some of the other concoctions he’s had to create under Wataru-niisan’s watchful eyes.

As he waits for the potion to set, he finds himself thinking of you.

This has been happening rather a lot lately. He sees you every day in class and you always smile at him when you notice him. He doesn’t quite know what to do with these distracting feelings. Perhaps that is why he’s spent the past few hours holed up, attempting to take his mind off of you–though not as successfully as he would’ve hoped.

The potion begins to bubble up, distracting him from his thoughts as he attempts to salvage it before it tips over entirely out of the cauldron. Slowly, slowly, he transfers it into a little glass vial. It shimmers when the light hits it, a kaleidoscopic array of colours that signifies a job well-done.

He sets the bottle aside, taking a moment to stretch. His back lets out a satisfying pop and he hums to himself, pleased. His throat feels rather sore, though, so it might be best to get himself a drink of water. Kanata-niisan is always nagging at him about hydration…

By the time he gets back (he swears he was only gone for a minute!) he notices the door to the secret room is ajar. He peers in cautiously, and sees you standing there in the center of the room, something glittering clutched in your hands. Upon closer inspection, he realises it’s the bottle.

The bottle of love potion.

Oh, no.

“Natsume,” You say, slow and careful when you catch his gaze, setting the bottle down. Natsume braces himself for the inevitable confession. To watch you shape the syllables with your lips, to hear you lilt the words like birdsong, saying: I love you without truly meaning it, compelled by the whims of a false Eros. “Natsume, I’m sorry!”

What.

“WhAT.”

“I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to…” You blink, moving closer so you can place your palm against his cheek. “Are you okay? You look…”

“Y-yes, I’m fiNE.” He assures, leaning away from your gentle hand. Why aren’t you throwing yourself at him? Why aren’t you blabbering meaningless poetry, miscellaneous lines about the hue of his eyes and the shade of his hair and the curve of his lips?

The potion is targeted. Its aim is to cause the recipient to fall in love with the first person they see which, in your case, would be him. He knows his potion works, he’s brewed it enough times for it to be so, and yet? You don’t seem affected?

“Natsume?” Your expression is soft, confused.

“It’s nothiNG.”

You reach out to touch him once more and he ducks, feeling your fingers lightly graze against the side of his face as he stumbles awkwardly backwards and makes his escape.

He can feel your eyes on his back, bewildered and maybe a little hurt at his brusque dismissal, but he refuses to turn around and look.

Natsume keeps a close eye on you for the duration of the next week. He’s certain that the first day must have been a fluke, an accident, a minor setback–now that it’s over, things will begin to work the way he expects them to. The love potion will run its course, he’ll spend a week fending off your desperate attempts and then things will go back to normal and you’ll remain a regular annoyance.

But no.

For some reason, you still treat him the same. As you always do, all gentle smiles in the hallways and casual waves and hey, Natsume-kun, how are you?

It irks him to no end.

Why isn’t it working? Did he make a mistake, add too much of one ingredient or too little of another? No, that can’t be right. He made sure to measure it out perfectly. So then, why won’t you fall in love with him? Well, it doesn’t have to be him, of course, but it seems like it’s the most likely option.

(Maybe it bothers him–that you might be giving your heart to someone else. But no one else has to know that.)

He itches to solve this mystery, but he’s not going to run to Wataru-niisan as soon as there’s a simple problem he can’t figure out.

On Monday, he tries tailing you around discreetly. Yet you show no difference in how you treat your other friends and how you treat him. (He won’t admit–he was hoping for some preferential treatment.) Maybe you’re a little nicer to him, more gentle, more…soft–around your friends you snap back, just as snarky and unwilling to pull punches.

Still, you do notice him in the end and invite him to sit with you at lunch. He’s not once to pass up the chance to ‘do more investigating’ (to spend more time with you) and he agrees.

It’s nice, he might admit if he were to be held at gunpoint. You’re more chatty, but you listen to him when he speaks and offer your own opinions thoughtfully.

He can tell that your friends (specifically Baru-kun) have something to say about your abrupt change in behaviour but are kept quite by the force of your glare and Hokke-kun’s neverending jabs at the orange-haired boy, distracting him.

Lunch speeds by, and he feels like he hasn’t gotten enough time to talk to you. You invite him to sit with you and your friends again tomorrow and he agrees readily. After all, he needs to get to the bottom of this mystery.

On Tuesday, you’re paired up with him and Oogami-kun for a project. He doesn’t expect it, but you and the silver-haired boy get on like a house on fire. The two of you spend half the lesson chatting excitedly to each other about his dog, and it’s starting to annoy him.

(So what if he threatens to turn Oogami-kun’s hair orange if he doesn’t stop blabbering and start working? He’ll just match his beloved dog.)

(And it got you to laugh, so Natsume takes it as a win in his book.)

On Wednesday, he’s starting to suspect you may be putting up a front. He thinks he needs to get you isolated, perhaps, away from other people so he can gauge your reactions. He asks if you’d like to spend time with him after school. You agree, albeit a little confusedly. And that’s it. He takes you out for a little shopping, waiting for you to slip up.

But you don’t?

Nothing really happens on that outing

He just takes you to a little cafe–him seeing how your eyes sparkle when you look at the Specials menu has nothing to do with it, he was just feeling rather hungry himself!–and he pays for your drink and he wipes off some crumbs on your cheek (you blush rather cutely when he licks it off his fingertips). After, he walks you back to the dorms and you tell him you had a lot of fun and he agrees because he did and perhaps you should do it again sometime.

You give him a grin.

(His heart beats a little faster.)

By Thursday, he’s slowly losing it. Every theory he’s had has been proven wrong, and he’s no more close to finding out the truth then he was at the beginning of the week. Maybe there was a mistake in the potion after all?

Natsume decides to confront you once and for all, knowing that it might be the only way he gets any answers. At the end of another one of your little outings–he’d taken you to a little park and the two of you had enjoyed a picnic–he takes you aside. “Y/N, I have something to ask yOU.”

He feels…nervous? Which is strange, because there’s really nothing he should feel anxious about. It’s just you. You, someone whom he considers a friend, of sorts. It’s just you.

(Perhaps that’s exactly why he’s nervous?)

His only consolation is that you, too, look nervous. You’re fidgeting in place, unable to meet his eyes. “I, um, sure. What is it, Natsume-kun?”

It’s now or never. “Why aren’t you in love with ME?”

“H. HUH?!”

“The love potion, you drank it, but you haven’t been acting much differeNT? And you aren’t in love with me and I can’t figure out wHY.”

“The, the love potion?” You blink, confused. Then realisation hits you. “Oh. Oh, it was a love potion?”

Natsume is flabbergasted. You didn’t know?

“Maybe the reason I haven’t been acting any different is because the love potion didn’t need to fabricate my emotions.” You shrug, playing with your hair awkwardly. “And I thought you felt the same, but I guess not. Um, is that all you needed from me, Natsume-kun?”

Natsume, who has just spent the past three minutes speedrunning every interaction he’s ever had from you trying to see where the emotions you’ve mentioned come into play, jerks his head up to stare at you wide-eyed. “You–you like ME?”

“I do.” You huff a laugh. “I thought you were aware. I mean, you took me out on a date. Two, actually, if you count this one.”

“I didn’t intend for it to be that wAY.”

“Yeah,” You nod. All of a sudden you seem a little…sadder? And it hurts, to know he made you feel that way.  “I know that now.”

“But,” He hesitates, because this is a pretty big step for him to take but he hurt you and he wants to make it up to you, somehow. And he doesn’t know if he loves you or not but maybe he could, with enough time. After all, all it took was a week spent with you and that was enough to get him all giddy at the sight of you. It isn’t a stretch to assume a month could make him fall in love with you. “If you’re okay with it, maybe the next one will be a real daTE?”

You grin, just a little. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

notes!

WC: 1.7k words

reze txt natsumeP’s stay winning wtf i think this mmight be the longest thing i’ve written so far???!?!? kinda surprised i wrote a natsume fic where he didn’t call y/n kitten once but. eye dee kay bro. actually this was gonna be angst but. i decided to be a lil nicer to u guys :) only for now tho so stay prepared and uh. enjoy ig <33

[phoebe-delia]

First Sentence Patterns

I was tagged by the lovely @oknowkiss and @autumnsup! Thank you both sm! I'm issuing an open tag for anyone who wants to do this and hasn't yet!

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern! (Also I'm including Tumblr fics for this or else 8/10 of these would be Hanukkah fics lol)

"This Year"

This morning, Draco still rolls his eyes at the way the Ministry has seemingly decked out all of Wizarding London in different shades of pink. But some things never change, including Draco's distaste for tacky decor.

If You Die, I’ll Kill You

“For the last time, I’m sorry!”

Love, Restored

My Hope, My Heart, have you now gone?

On Midnights Like This

Draco likes to light candles the Muggle way. There's something satisfying in striking a match against the roughened side of the box; sometimes, over and over until it sparks.

Drunk on Jealousy

At this point, I'm starting to think the pint in your hand is just for show. You've hardly touched it. I'd wager you're entirely sober.

tryin' to hold on to the memory of your lips

You're a world away from me now. You always have been, in a sense. We collided in the past, to be sure, but we couldn't have been further apart.

A Day, or Forever

Someone is taking a bludger to Harry's head.

One single thread of gold tied me to you

Draco nearly choked on his champagne and had a coughing fit when he saw Harry Potter again.

Swear to be Overdramatic and True

"Does the 'Happy Hanukkah' banner look straight to you?"

Here's to Us

Their legs are tangled together under thick blankets and Draco's body is heavy and warm against Harry.

Now honestly I don't see much of a pattern here but I also may not have the perspective to see one, ya know? Idk. Anyway—thanks for the tag, friends!!

[scarlet-traveler]

“Come on, Ei, hurry up!” Katsuki’s voice yelled from somewhere above his head. “Fucking sun’s gonna be long set before you get your ass up here!”

“I’m going as fast as I can, man!” Eijirou jammed hardened fingers into a gap in the cliffside, getting a decent grip before hauling himself up a couple more feet. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been at this so far, maybe half an hour, but his fingers, having been hardened the entire time to help with today’s unexpected rock climbing, were starting to cramp up, and his limbs felt like jelly from the effort of holding up his body for so long. “How are you not tired yet?” he gasped out. Another foot higher. He didn’t dare look up to see how much farther he had left, not wanting to be disappointed. “I’m still wiped after training yesterday!”

“What happened to being my unwavering horse?” Eijirou could hear the smirk in Katsuki’s voice. “What happened to going ‘plus ultra’, hah?”

Damnit. That was a challenge if he’d ever heard one. And Eijirou was never one to back down from one. “Who said I wasn’t going plus ultra?!” Hardened claws dug deeper into the rockface, and he hoisted himself even higher. He climbed even faster, the rhythmic crunch of rock meeting rock filling his ears until his hand met open air, and he could’ve cried from relief. Finally at the top.

Eijirou hauled himself the rest of the way onto the top of the cliff, shucking off his backpack before collapsing on his back onto the hard ground, closing his eyes as he focused on catching his breath. He wouldn’t mind staying here for a while.

Unfortunately, the impatient nudge of a boot into his side had other plans. “C’mon, don’t pass out on me now. We’re not done yet.”

Eijirou whined, barely cracking his eyes open. Katsuki was standing over him, an amused smirk on his face as he looked down at him. Somehow, he didn’t look tired in the slightest. Eijirou was over here dying, limbs numb from exertion and his shirt was most likely plastered to his body from sweat under his jacket; meanwhile, Katsuki’s face barely looked flushed. He just looked satisfied, his smirk settling into an easy smile and the sun casting his hair in a halo of gold.

He was unfairly pretty. Emphasis on the unfair, Katsuki was supposed to be the sweaty one, not him!

“Kats, babe, I love you, but I literally don’t think I could move if I wanted to. Can’t you pitch the tent by yourself? I’ll still help with dinner!”

“Such a dramatic bastard,” Katsuki grumbled under his breath, but there was no heat. Louder, “First of all, you’re still helping with the tent. I’ll let you rest but you’re not slacking off that much. Second of all you don’t have to move yet, I just want you to look at something.”

“Oh.” Eijirou could handle that. “What is it?”

“You gotta sit up first.” Katsuki held a hand down to him, and Eijirou raised a leadened arm to grasp it. Katsuki tugged him up into a sitting position, his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff from how he’d collapsed earlier. He was temporarily blinded by the sun shining in his face, and he quickly blinked it away, only to inhale sharply.

They’d been hiking through the forest in the national park for most of the day, and up here on this cliff, it stretched out for miles below them. The mid-autumn weather had already turned much of the trees various shades of orange, red, and yellow, making it look like the entire valley was on fire, the effect only enhanced by the sun as it sank toward the horizon, highlighting the lights and deepening the shadows. Eijirou couldn’t even make out where the entrance to the park was. Were they even still in it?

He was startled out of his staring by Katsuki sitting on the cliff edge next to him. “My folks used to come up here when they were dating, and they brought me up here once when I was younger,” he explained, voice soft like it got when he was relaxed. “Didn’t make the climb myself, obviously. I was only three at the time so I was strapped to my dad’s back. But it’s one of my favorite spots to go if I want a challenge. After we started hiking together I wanted to bring you up here.”

“You’re not kidding about the challenge part,” Eijirou huffed. “But it really is beautiful up here.”

“Yeah…” Katsuki trailed off as he took in the view himself, and Eijirou couldn’t pull his eyes back to it himself, not when his boyfriend was an even more captivating sight. The sun made him glow like the leaves below, the red of his eyes on fire. His usual scowl was wiped from his face, even softer than he normally looked when he was around Eijirou, a serene smile on his lips. Totally happy.

Eijirou was reaching out before he could realize he was, a hand cupping Katsuki’s cheek, his thumb brushing across the smooth surface. Katsuki’s gaze drifted over, meeting Eijirou’s own soft smile and lovesick expression, and the blond’s smile turned crooked as he cocked a brow despite the blush growing on his cheeks. “What?”

Eijirou hummed, because he didn’t really know either. But his mouth was moving on its own. “I kinda wanna kiss you right now.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened, his face darkening so fast Eijirou could feel the rush of heat under his fingers. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and Eijirou didn’t get why Katsuki looked so nervous until his brain finally caught up to his actions and oh. They had never kissed before.

His own face quickly flamed, and he almost felt lightheaded from how fast the blood rushed up to it. “W-We don’t have to! You probably don’t even want to, I know you’re not comfortable with this kinda stuff sometimes, I shouldn’t have even said anything-” He started to rip his hand away from Katsuki’s face, but the blond caught his wrist before he could.

His face was still red, but he was staring resolutely back at Eijirou, a determined frown on his face, even if it was still tinged with nerves. “We can, if you want,” he spoke softly, his voice almost being swept away in the light breeze that blew around them. It ruffled Katsuki’s hair, the fading rays of the sun making the blond strands shimmer.

“You’re sure?” Eijirou asked just as quietly, his thumb stroking across his cheek once, twice.

Katsuki nodded. “Yeah.” The grip on his wrist squeezed. “If it’s you, yeah.”

Eijirou’s heart swelled at the sheer amount of trust in that simple statement, and it made a wide smile grow on his face. Katsuki huffed, rolling his eyes even as his own smile threatened to break across his lips. “No need to get so fuckin’ happy about that, idiot.”

“I can’t help it,” Eijirou said, giggling, before scooting closer to Katsuki along the cliff edge. “But if you’re sure…” His free hand cupped the other side of Katsuki’s face, the blond’s almost-smile disappearing a second later. His eyes immediately screwed shut, and Eijirou almost found the act adorable if he didn’t know that Katsuki was still nervous. The tightening grip on his wrist was proof of that.

His thumbs painted streaks of comfort across those pale cheeks as he leaned in, mere centimeters between their lips, and he nudged his nose against Katsuki’s. “You can still back out babe, I won’t judge.”

Katsuki huffed, his breath warm across Eijirou’s face. “You worry too damn much, Red.” And then he closed the distance himself, smashing their lips together in a hard kiss. Eijirou could feel his teeth pressing against his own behind both of their lips he was pushing so hard, and their noses kept bumping together, but then Eijirou guided him back a bit with the hands on his face and tilted his own head, and they slotted together like two puzzle pieces, a perfect match. He sighed through his nose, his eyes falling shut as he kissed back.

It was a simple kiss, chaste, yet Eijirou felt like Katsuki had activated his quirk in his chest as his heart exploded with warmth. The kiss was simple, yet as he pressed closer to Katsuki, as Katsuki wound his fingers through loose red strands in return, the setting sun their only witness on this faraway mountain, he could easily say that he had never loved this boy more.

They pulled apart slowly, and Eijirou’s eyes fluttered open. Katsuki was already looking back at him, and the sunlight peeking between their faces highlighted the wet shine of his lips, the flush on his cheeks, the mirth in his eyes. It made Eijirou grin, hard enough to make him squint. “Love you, man.”

“Love you too, Ei.” He leaned forward to press one last quick peck onto his lips before pulling back and moving to stand. “Now c’mon, we still gotta pitch that tent.” Eijirou whined, making Katsuki roll his eyes. “Shut up, we gotta hurry before it gets dark.” He then turned away, but Eijirou didn’t miss the way his cheeks and ears darkened as he mumbled, “We can kiss more later, or whatever.”

Eijirou immediately perked up. “Oh, okay!” He hurried to stand up and follow after Katsuki, who was speedwalking toward the tree line with hunched shoulders in a (failed) effort to hide his burning ears.

More kisses was great motivation to start moving again.

~

Fic written for @krbkevents KRBK Month 2023 Day 14: First Kiss! With bits of days 7 and 11, Sunshine and Long Distance, as well. Also on AO3, let me know what you think!

[sunshine-zenith]

Playing around with inking/shading/simple coloring a bit more. Not sure how much I love inking — on one hand it’s super satisfying erasing the undersketch and being left with crisp lines, on the other I realized entirely too late I should’ve used the star as a light source and couldn’t go back to fix my shading

Onto this guy— I’ll admit, Wish is kinda growing on me these days. I don’t think it’ll be great, but it’ll probably be good. The character designs are beautiful and the way the animators are rendering the CGI is pretty neat. I do love that we’re getting a Classic Disney Villain again, though, and I’m super interested in this guy because he seems to break so many CDV rules — while there’s some Evil Green Magic in his villain song, he himself doesn’t have a CDV color pallet (greens, black, reds, purples), instead having light grays, whites, and light blues. He looks genuinely friendly and approachable, but he isn’t a Plot Twist Villain. They’re outright advertising him with his Villain Song. He’s also married. I don’t think we’ve seen him and his wife interact at all in marketing yet, and given the fact that the queen is included in toy sets with Asha, the hero, I don’t think she’s gonna be a Plot Twist Villain, so they might not still be married by the end of the movie, but still, it’s unique (I can’t think of a single CDV who’s married off the top of my head. The rest play Unwanted Suiters, widows, romantic obstacles, reconned into having a past relationship for the sake of Sequel Babies, or have no involvement in romance at all)

I’m crossing my fingers that he has more than one song. Thanks I Get has grown on me the more I’ve listened to it, and I do like the actual animation that accompanies it, but like. It’s basically Evil You’re Welcome y’all. Like Gaston got a fun Villain Song too, yeah but he also had the Mob Song — please give Magnifico the same courtesy and give him a second boisterous and wicked song — it doesn’t have to be another Hellfire, but please gimme more Friends on the Other Side and Mother Knows Best, I beg you. This is the first actual CDV in a musical in what? A decade? Go all out with him!

(Also, juries out on if it’ll gain an explosive fandom after the movie comes out or not. I can see fans going either way — Encanto took off like wildfire when it went to streaming and Frozen had those snow storms in NY to help boost it, while other Disney movies barely have their time in the sun. Tbh there have been many media properties that I’ve been meh about over all that I’ve come to adore because they have an engaging fandom and good character designs/concepts)

[ticklenight]

Dancing

It was a rare quiet evening; the kind Hawks had been hoping for after the chaos of their last mission. The warm glow of the sunset filled the small apartment he and Dabi shared, casting a golden hue across the walls. Hawks, stretching out his wings with a satisfied sigh, looked over to where Dabi was leaning against the window, his usual aloofness softened by the serene moment.

Hawks smirked, already feeling the warmth in his chest that always bloomed when he looked at Dabi in these rare moments of peace. Despite his gruff exterior and the scarred past, Dabi had a gentleness that only Hawks was privy to. It made Hawks want to pull him in and never let go.

“Hey, you,” Hawks called softly, walking over to Dabi. “Wanna dance with me?”

Dabi raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Dance? You’ve got to be kidding me, bird brain.”

Hawks chuckled, knowing the playful insult masked Dabi's affection. “C’mon, just this once. No one’s watching, and it’s not like we’re going anywhere tonight.”

Dabi rolled his eyes but didn’t move away as Hawks stepped closer. He was always like this, reluctant to show his softer side but never truly denying Hawks what he wanted. Hawks gently took Dabi's hand, his fingers warm against Dabi's slightly cooler skin, and placed his other hand on Dabi’s waist.

“There, see? Not so bad,” Hawks teased as he started swaying them gently to the rhythm of some slow, imaginary music.

Dabi let out a huff, pretending to be disinterested, but Hawks could feel the way he relaxed slightly, the tension in his body easing. It was moments like this that Hawks cherished, when Dabi let down his walls and allowed himself to just be. The two of them moved in a slow, lazy circle, the world outside their apartment fading into irrelevance.

After a few quiet moments, Hawks rested his head on Dabi’s shoulder, his wings wrapping around them both like a warm, feathery cocoon. Dabi stiffened at first, but then, as always, he relaxed into the touch. His hand found its way into Hawks’ hair, his fingers lightly threading through the strands.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Dabi murmured, his voice low and rough.

Hawks chuckled softly. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

There was a long pause before Dabi responded. “Yeah… I do.” His voice was so quiet that Hawks almost missed it, but the words hit him harder than any loud proclamation could. His heart swelled, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft shuffle of their feet and the steady beat of their hearts.

They danced in silence for a while longer, the setting sun painting the room in shades of pink and orange. Hawks closed his eyes, feeling completely at peace, his entire world wrapped up in this one moment with Dabi.

“Alright,” Dabi said after a while, pulling back slightly, “you’ve had your dance. Don’t get used to it.”

Hawks grinned, his golden eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m totally getting used to it. Next time, I’ll teach you how to twirl.”

Dabi scoffed, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t push your luck, feather head.”

Hawks laughed, pulling Dabi closer for a quick kiss. “Too late.”

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, they stood there, swaying together in the dim light. No words were needed. In the quiet of their shared space, they found a soft, unspoken understanding—one built on trust, love, and the small, tender moments like this one.

And as long as they had each other, Hawks knew that everything would be alright.

[touyastearss]

Quid Pro Quo (Professor! Zeke x Student!Reader)

WARNING: age gap, professor-student relationship (reader is legal), manipulation, noncon, typical blackmail situation, smut, oral, humiliation

///

“This isn't good enough. See me in my office later, Y/N.”

A familiar shade of red stains the page as your essay is handed back to you. There's crosses thrown across the page and entire paragraphs circled in bright red, small, with barely legible notes scrawled beside them. You can't read them, but you don't need to. You know what they say. What they mean.

Your heart thumps against your chest. You want to cry.

— —

You wait until late in the evening. The last thing you’d want is for anybody to stumble across the two of you. The grounds are silent, save for the rustling of the leaves in the trees as you walk towards the old building, and there are few lights to guide your way. But you know the route by now.

The oak door gets bigger and bigger until it looms over you, rooting you to the ground as you allow yourself a minute, like every other time, to prepare. To leave, to argue, to run. But the cold of the wind pulls you from your trance. You have no choice.

You don’t knock. He’s expecting you. He doesn’t even look up when you enter, silent at his desk, the scratching of his pen the only noise in the room as he writes. His jacket is off, hanging from the back of his chair, and his dark tie hangs loose around his neck. It’s a complete contrast to his put-together looks throughout the day; pristine, perfectly ironed suits and a smile. Now the top buttons of his shirt are loose, and you can see the dip of his broad chest as he leans over his desk.

You clear your throat, stepping forward into the room a little further.

“Sir.”

He looks up at you, finally, nonchalant as ever as he watches you close the door. He leans back against his chest, watching you through the rim of his round glasses. They glint as he speaks.

“Y/N. Can I help you?”

You don’t know why he does it. Why he makes you come here, makes you stand before him and grovel at his feet, all while he acts oblivious. It’s so unnerving, so sick.

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back into his seat and reaching into his pocket. The cigarette he pulls out is the same expensive brand he always smokes. He places it between his lips, balancing it as he watches you, expectantly. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“I’d like to speak to you about my grade.”

You don’t miss the flicker of amusement in his eyes as you speak, but it’s gone quickly with a puff of his cigarette, the smoke clouding round his face. He waits a moment, like he always does, and then speaks.

“I’m afraid the grades you’ve received are non-negotiable. I can’t give out any special treatment, Y/N. You know this.”

He waits, silently. You want to cry. His gaze hardens for a split second and you know you’re keeping him waiting too long for his liking. He enjoys a game, but he gets bored quickly.

“Please.”

He doesn’t speak.

You hate him. You hate him so much. You hate your parents for making you attend university. You hate chance for its unfair ways. You hate the way he touches you. You hate yourself for letting him.

“Please, Sir.” Your voice breaks, a singular tear trickling down your face as you avert your gaze from his face. There’s no smile, just a cruel, satisfied smirk at the way your body recoils from him as the words pass your lips.

You refuse to look as you hear him stand from his desk, watching as he leather Oxfords get closer until they're right in front of you, and you can smell the lit cigarette.

“Don’t cry, Y/N,” he cooes, voice soft and quiet in the silence of his office. His rough fingers come to rest on your chin, turning your head to face him with mock gentleness. “Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.”

He’s so close. You feel trapped. You’re drowning in a mixture of his cologne and smoke, a smell you’ve scrubbed from your skin countless times before. His thumb strokes your skin gently, and his touch sparks goosebumps on your skin. He lets out a soft hum, as if he’s so horrifically torn by the decision he’s about to make.

“You're putting me in a difficult situation here, Y/N.”

He waits a second.

“But maybe I can make an exception for you."

One more.

"You’ll just have to do me a favour in return."

He speaks like it’s the most gracious thing. Like he’s some saint. Like he's not bullied you into this corner countless times before. Like he won't do it again. You want to scream. Instead you meet his eyes, ignoring the soft smirk that forms on his lips.

Your line comes out weak, hopeless.

“I’ll do anything.”

�� —

He likes to take it slow at first. You don't know whether the drag of his hands across your skin is for your enjoyment or his. You could take a lucky guess. The minutes he spends touching your skin set you on edge, eyes flickering to the door as images of the two of you being caught flood your brain. The risk is high, it makes you sick. He loves it.

He likes to tell you that what he's doing is for the best. That he's so much older than you, that he’s so much smarter. Surely only a Professor could know what was best for their student? He whispers praise and filth into your skin and tells you that you’re so good for him. That you listen so well. Like a good student. A good girl.

He likes it when you're beneath him. When you stare up at him with teary eyes and a helpless look on your face as he sits you on his desk. He parts your legs forcefully to step between them, guiding your head towards him. You don’t want to react to the feel of his rough palms travelling between the material of your skirt to the top of your thighs, but you can’t help but gasp as they enter you, curling and prodding at your walls.

He likes your skirt to stay on. The way it falls across your skin when he fucks into you, the material creasing beneath his grip on your thighs. The wood of his desk bruises your stomach with every thrust forwards, his thick fingers gripping your tits through the material of your shirt. You leave with bruises that never seem to fade.

He likes your reflection in the mirror that he fucks you in front of. Likes the way your nervous expression morphs into pleasure as he has his way with you. The way fear flickers across your eyes every now and then as you come back to your senses, the way it’s gone with the light pressure of his thumb on your clit. Your body shakes in his hold and he can only admire how perfect you look as you take his cock. So cute.

When you’re on the floor, knees pressing uncomfortably into the hard oak panels as his cock pounds into your throat. Your nails dig into his thighs and your whines are silenced as you gag around him. His own grunts are always loud, and he lets out a deep, guttural groan as he releases into your throat, pulling out just in time to taint your skin.

He likes you to say thank you, afterwards. To pick yourself up and ignore the shake in your legs as he places a light kiss on your forehead. To leave without a word.

And to return, as always, the next time.