#i need to draw this what a wonderful scene
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dayseternal-blog · 6 hours ago
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NOOOOOOO OMG 😱😭
There I was, just scrolling peacefully (I almost never check my notifs right away),
oo, NaruHina fanart, so pretty, look at Naruto's bright smile, Hinata's schoolgirl outfit, a high school au :) ... "I have high expectations for my hero"...my hero...hmm that sounds really familiar, like I - scrolls a little more-
from "It's No Secret" ?????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????💥💥💥
FAMILIAR LIKE I WROTE THAT??? THERE'S A SECOND IMAGE??? Of THAT SCENE??? The one of Naruto crouching down?????
ALSO, okay, ALSO ALSO ALSO ALSO
The Shoujo magical sparkles and flowers blooming blossoming sparkling everywhere okay 😭 you know what, yes, Jolly, you really truly nailed the concept here, that is the EXACT thing happening in my brain. It's No Secret is just a super girly, dorky shoujo manga, and I'm SO EMBARRASSED YET APPRECIATIVE??? that you brought my little baby fish of my first serious attempt at fanfic writing off my brain and into the world as this fully-formed drawing that PERFECTLY encapsulates how flirty and lovey dovey they are when they're not even dating 💀 I'm dead, people aren't supposed to see this.
okay, my initial "NOOOOO" up there is because when you told me that you really wanted to draw a scene, and in no wondering of mine did I EVER think it was from It's No Secret, like THAT's NOT the fic you were supposed to be inspired by???? I thought, if she read most of my fics already, maybe like Little Samurai since you remembered that one, or maybe like Last Chance or Friend of Mine..., BUT IT'S NO SECRET???????? You even read that?????? Such an old fic?????? That's not even that good, like I did NOT write it well and
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Why is your art so HIGH-TIER for my smutty, stupid writing?????????? 😭
It's No Secret is supposed to be for readers who have explored my other fics already, and have gone down the fanfic rabbit hole, so far down, that they somehow end up years in my past, and they're so into fanfics at this point, that they just forgive all my tropey, cringy, cliche plot points and characterizations, and are just caught up in sparkly NaruHina romance, maybe a part of them thinking, like, "oh, Days was also just a newbie at writing back in 2018 haha," and then all the drama of American nonsense like prom gets these readers to just forget how stupid the story actually is 💖
Unsuspecting, unrelated people who haven't read fanfics in general or my fanfics aren't supposed to just be subjected to my shoujo-brain while scrolling on Tumblr 😭😭😭 It's TOO MUCH.
IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME. I can't handle this. I love "It's No Secret" too much, like I must protect it in all its tropey glory, it's just a baby!!!
AND YOU GO AND DRAW MY FAVORITE SCENE IN THE WHOLE STORY.
Well, along with the strawberry date and the car scene, so this scene is definitely in my top three from that fic, and you really shouldn't have 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖💖 I was not prepared. Not prepared, like I needed a warning sign or something. Dear God, I pray that innocent, unsuspecting people do not click on the link for the fic from this art. Their expectations will be too high because Jolly's art is too good, and they will just be like wtf is this cutesy possessive, jealous Naruto and too good too innocent Hinata who can do no wrong, this fic is too much.
UGH Now I feel the absolute need to reread It's No Secret because it's been ages, AGES since I reread it, I will skip certain scenes that are too embarrassing for me 😅, but I can't believe you.
I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, THIS FANFIC IS TOO PRECIOUS TO ME, YOUR ART IS TOO PRETTY.
Just the fact that you nailed the concept on the head so well with the flowers, and Naruto's EYE, showing how ooey-gooey in love he is, and the sparkles raining down, and and and you did not leave out the detail of how he's blushing super hard to his ears.
Like. This fanfic really is the prototype for every high school au I've written ever since. I can so clearly remember my descriptions just by looking at your art, even though it's been years since I wrote that scene. UGH. Hinata's hugging her books, like you know what. You know what. That is exactly how every preppy girl including myself held our books at my high school because that was The Look. but also you just nailed Naruto so well, UGHHHHH. I'm dead.
I adore you 😭🥺 Thank you for embracing my baby fish so warmly, I don't deserve this. Like there are so many better NaruHina fanfics out there in the world, and you spent your energy and talent on It's No Secret of ALL THINGS. Thank you 😭😭😭😭 I can never repay you. I could keep gushing and freaking out, but I have to go now 😭
You are the best, the ABSOLUTE BEST. I LOVE YOU. You deserve nothing but good things in your life, may God BLESS YOU for ALWAYS.
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A scene from @dayseternal-blog fic "It's No Secret" (<- link)
This was meant to be two pages. I wanted to draw out more of the scene but I unfortunately have no more free time till next year 😭I just really wanted to draw this particular image out and put it out there (the after math 🤭):
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Merry Christmas and Happy New Year~
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benevolenterrancy · 3 months ago
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May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home
#svsss#luo binghe#shen qingqiu#bingqiu#sqq#lbh#scum villain#heard the song Take This Body Home by Rose Betts and it nearly took me out at the knees#it really really suits sqq's self-detonation in hua yue city right? i'm not the only one feeling this?#considered adding some literal shards for them to be stepping on - since sqq's sword explodes - but i couldn't quite make it work#anyway this has been playing like a music video in my head for the past couple days highly recommend listening to the song#if you haven't heard it before#can't get over the absolute dissonance between how sqq views this scene and how everyone else must feel about it#like to him he's just completing his plan - hopefully keeping lbh from destroying a city with energy imbalance and escaping The Plot#nbd! he and sqh have planned it all out it's FINE :) off he goes!#meanwhile everyone who loves him - including lbh who worked years to get back to him and is trying to work through a lot of grief#and resentment and doubt and longing and... - watches him DIE in FRONT OF THEM#just collapse while coughing up blood sword disintegrating energy completely consumed#like holy hell sqq could you traumatize the people around you any more???#no wonder lbh went a little bit crazy after that like my man was already not in a great place but what the fuck#lbh watches his shizun presumably sacrifice himself for him ONCE AGAIN like after he's finally Gotten Strong his shizun is STILL#coming to harm in an effort to make up for his shortcomings#my art#most of the time out here drawing what amounts to muppets and then sometimes i get the urge for this and just need to cover everyone in blo
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lilkikayart · 5 months ago
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started a wip for fanart for Awakened Hearts finally!! I'm leaving it as a surprise so I won't share any wips images, but know that it's happening 👀
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allysah · 26 days ago
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THIS IS SO SICKENING SOMEONE GO SIT AND TALK WITH SECRETARY WELLES . IMMEDIATELY!!!!!
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fiepige · 10 months ago
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why work on your fic when you can just make shitty art of one of the scenes in paint instead?
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look I told you it was shitty okay? lol at least it's out of my system now so I can go back to actually writing this stuff- hopefully it'll turn out better when written down than when drawn...
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orcelito · 2 years ago
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ok currently inspecting July Events to figure out wtf happened to Vash's coat
so we see him at the start of July in this:
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which upon inspection IS different from his coat at the start of the series:
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which makes this shot immediately post-july make some sense:
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he's got the same belts pants, so clearly not ALL of his outfit got blown off, but it seems like his prior coat didn't survive the explosion. so at some point, he'd have to contact the floating ship again to get another coat made (these ppl really are working overtime keeping up with his coat and prosthetic demolishing lmaooo) WHICH on the topic of his prosthetic, it seems like it DID survive the July explosion, which is interesting!
smth im wondering about. In dialog, we hear from Brad that he met Vash when he was 4 years old, but hasn't seen him in the 13 years since (this being after the 2 years post-jeneora). at that time, it's 8 years post-july (since july happens 6 years before the start of the series, and then add the 2 years time skip post-jeneora), which sets the events of July THEORETICALLY to happen 5 years after his last visit to the flying ship.
so, how did he get his new coat if he hasn't been back to the flying ship in 13 years? Well, i assume he has some way to contact them from afar, considering he manages to get Sensei to bring him a new coat post-jeneora in some random town (& Sensei now brings Brad, who is 17, but would've only been 9 the last time).
this brings the question: how does he contact them? some kind of communication device? i remember his earring's a radio, but i dont remember him having any specific way to contact them directly. so maybe it's just not shown? i cant imagine he'd be able to send letters, all things considered, so it's probably some kind of radio transmission. the technology Does exist, & they almost definitely would pin a special radio on this disaster-prone asshole so he could still keep contact during the long years he's away from home.
the more you know 🤔
#speculation nation#fanny reads trigun#making a new tag for posts like these#fanny's trigun analysis#bc the wiki is frankly lacking in definite details like this#for the sake of my own writing i gotta do the analysis myself#which includes piecing together the timeline & vash's habits in the time between events.#i have very specific information i need for my fic. right NOW july and the flying ship being the most relevant.#im also wondering what vash thought of knives' condition. if he knew what state he was in#he never doubted that knives was still alive. so did he see him? or was he just drawing the natural conclusion given his own resilience?#we do see in chapter 88 of trimax that legato at knives' side can see vash across the way. not Close but still visible.#as vash perches on that damned bolder for who knows how long. processing? grieving? who knows what's happening there.#considering how loud legato screams and how acute vash's hearing is i bet he was aware of his existence.#assuming he's in the mind state to be aware of his surroundings that is. always possible he was too stuck in his brain and all.#these r all details im trying to pick apart for chapter 2 of my new fic. i know the direction vash is gonna go#but that initial moment. his initial Processing. im trying to sort out the details of that scene. he is not going to have a fun time lmfao#trigun spoilers/#edit for additional detail i realized: vash just plain didnt remember july. at all.#so the reason he wasnt worried about knives was bc he didnt know he got caught up in this to start with lmaooo#whoopsie daisey sometimes u read thru smth wayy too quickly and u forget essential details. whoops
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beastblade69 · 1 month ago
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WHY IS SHAY CORMAC SO HARD TO DRAW???
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stromblessed · 1 year ago
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Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows
In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.
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If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.
So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.
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I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?
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However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.
Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)
And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.
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Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.
It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.
Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?
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While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:
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She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.
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You see where I'm going with this.
When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:
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And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD
When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.
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MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS
No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.
And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:
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Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!
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The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.
And, uh
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Yeah.
I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.
But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.
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Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:
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But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.
There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.
After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:
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"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.
Kind of like another bird in this show:
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tobiasdrake · 10 months ago
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*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.
I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.
But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.
Katara
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So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.
They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.
And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.
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Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.
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This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."
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"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.
Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.
In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.
But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?
No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.
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And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.
In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.
Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.
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Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.
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The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.
Suki
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Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.
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They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.
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Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.
Yue
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Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.
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"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."
Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.
They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.
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Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?
June
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June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.
Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.
She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.
Kyoshi
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And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"
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She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.
Azula
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Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.
There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.
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This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.
They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.
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This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.
Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.
Conclusion
The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.
Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.
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But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.
The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.
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"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."
The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.
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notherpuppet · 8 months ago
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Someone asked if I was adding more to "Buckshot"
...and then I accidentally posted it before I was done answering LOL. Anyway, here was the answer:
I have some ideas that I just haven't fleshed out yet. But I really like that AU and I want to return to it.
As for the Buckshot specific "chapter"...I do have some 'deleted scenes' that I just didn't feel like drawing (laziness) but hmm maybe i'll get the motivation to sketch them out eventually.
Some deleted scenes:
Scene 1.5 [Lucifer looks at Alastor's wounds as he's changing his bandages and clothes. Alastor's covered in severe scars exhibiting many different kinds of injuries.] Lucifer: "So many scars...I wonder what he's been through..." [Lucifer glances at Alastor's face, which somehow still has a faint, but visible smile.] Lucifer (incredulous and annoyed): "Yet he always keeps that smile on his face..." CUT TO FLASHBACK MONTAGE: Lucifer, Alastor, and Charlie playing in the park, eating dinner altogether, and singing backup for Charlie while Alastor plays the piano. [Lucifer smiles softly and turns up the corners of Alastor's sleeping smile.] Charlie: "I thought Al needed to sleep!" >:-0 [Lucifer draws his hands back suddenly, embarrassed.] Lucifer: "Where did you--" [Charlie climbs onto Alastor's rest bed. She haphazardly reaches for Alastor's face.] Charlie: "My turn or it's not fair!" >:-D Lucifer: "Charlie, no!" --- Scene 4.5 (happens at the dinner party, in Lucifer's room, after Alastor bleeds through his shirt) [Lucifer quickly changed into a red tuxedo. Alastor is lagging, due to his pain and need to clean his wound with a soft cloth.] Lucifer: "Let me help you--" Alastor: "I can handle this." Lucifer: "Would you stop being so stubborn? You're drugged up, drunk, and moving slow as hell. You want to arouse more suspicion or do you wanna get this over with?" [Alastor rolls his eyes and rudely tosses the cloth at Lucifer's face. Lucifer's quick reflexes catch the cloth effortlessly.] Lucifer: "That's what I thought." [Lucifer begins to clean Al's wound. Alastor has a pained expression. He winces and grabs Lucifer's wrist forcefully.] Alastor: "You're being a brute." [Alastor guides Lucifer's hand gently and drops his hand once Lucifer adapts. Lucifer helps bandage Alastor back up and get dressed. They're now both in new tuxedos, sans bow ties. Before Lucifer can grab his bowtie, Alastor snatches it.] Alastor: "Allow me." Lucifer: "I can tie my own bow tie." Alastor: "Did you not say we were in a hurry? I think we both know it will go faster if I just tie it." [Lucifer rolls his eyes but resigns. Alastor ties the bowtie swiftly and perfectly.] Lucifer: "Ugh, how do you do this so easily? Aren't you high?" Alastor: "As a kite." [There is a beat and they both share a laugh. Suddenly they hear a distant voice yelling:] Adam (distant): "So much for a quickie!" Alastor: "We should go."
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confused-wanderer · 8 months ago
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The villains are utterly confused.
They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.
The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.
But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:
The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.
SCENE 1
Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.
Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..
Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?
Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*
Red Hood:
Two-Face:
Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?
Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!
Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?
Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?
Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?
Two-Face:
Goon 1: I mean.. yeah
Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!
Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??
Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.
Red Hood:
Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones
Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-
SCENE 2
Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!
Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!
Nightwing: .. robin?
Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?
Nightwing:
Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after
Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.
Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.
Nightwing:
Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)
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writer-logbook · 4 months ago
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How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide.
Intro : I love the 5-steps format, don’t mind me. Again, this essay is based on my personal experience.
Read in different genres. Ok, I know you’ve probably heard this advice more than you can count but did you ask yourself why it is so important ? You probably wonder ‘‘How reading some historical fiction will help me writing my sci-fi novel ?’’ For that simple reason my friend : they meet different purposes. You don’t know how to describe a castle ? It’s okay, historical fiction got your back. Because it aims at something more realistic and accurate, it would tend to be more specific and detailed when it comes to describing clothes, furniture, places and so on. Why ? Because, most of the time, THEY ACTUALLY EXISTED. Take a closer look at how it is done and draw your inspiration from it (but please avoid plagiarism it’s bad - and illegal)
Take notes and CLASSIFY them. To make reading somehow useful, you have to actually make it concious, which means you have to write things down to remember them. When I come across a description I like, I tend to takes notes of the figures of speech that are used and class them, so when I have to write a similar scene, I have an idea of what have been already used, and weither or not it achieved its goal. I am NOT talking about COPY another author’s style !!!! It’s about finding inspiration and new approaches. I also tend to take notes of the new words I wish to incoporate into my writing. The thesaurus is my new bestie.
Rewrite the same scene from different POVs. First of all, it’s fun. And it’s a really good way to spot quirky formulations. For instance, if you describe a ship, the captain’s POV should be different from that of a simple observer. The first one would be naming each part princisely whereas the other would only be admiring the surface without knowing anything. If the caption is the same for both POVs, maybe you should consider write your passage again (or have a good reason, like a strong amateurism for the mere observer). It’s go hand in hand with coherence - but it would be an essay for another time (maybe).
Read your text aloud. I put major emphasis on that one because it’s as underated as reading books for various genres. You have no idea how much we DON’T speak the way we write. Even dialogues are crafted in our stories - so make sure to give them proper attention. (i even read my email aloud but-). I KNOW how cringey it might be as I am doing it MYSELF but the benefits are worth the 35-minutes shame I endure from my own mess. Before you can shine, you have to polish (shout out to the one who said that first if it’s not me).
Take a step back. I strongly advice you to let some time pass before reading your text again and profreading it. It will cast a new light upon your work and with fresh eyes you’d be more likely able to spot what needs to be erased or rephrased.
That’s all for me today. Since I would be entering my proofreading phase for my writing contest, the next essay would probably about proofreading (with examples from my own novel ?). Unless someone wants me to write on a specific subject first.
Gentle reminder that I’m still French and not a native so please forgive my dubious grammar and outrageous mispellings.
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xvysarene · 5 months ago
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𝔹𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟
Pairing: LADS Men (All 5) x Fem!Reader Prompt: The moment they realise they want to spend their whole life with you Words: ~1.3k || 200-300 per LI Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Established relationship A/N: Highly recommend giving Urban Zakapa's "Nearness is to love" a listen to capture the mood! I need to be love like this smh
[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]
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⊱ 𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣
Xavier has always wondered why he willingly abandons a good slumber and ignores the sting and soreness in his body just to see your face after every challenging mission.
“𝐷𝘰 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝘵 𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑐𝘰𝘰𝑘 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑠𝘰𝑚𝑒𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒?”
The lines of concern etched on your forehead deepen when he hasn't touched the porridge, all white swiftly checking to ensure you haven’t missed tending to any of his injuries.
He realises then, that you opening the door after the first knock, with a home-cooked meal waiting for him even before the first rays of dawn, is why he always seeks you out first.
This is the person he wants to witness a lifetime of sunrises with, the one he never wants to see weighed down by worry due to his line of work.
Words fail him, so he gathers you in his arms. Revelling in the way your body moulds perfectly against his.
“𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝑙𝘰𝑠𝑒.”
“𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙,” you chide softly, eyes flicking up to meet his.
The concern in your gaze tugs at something deep within him.
Xavier now understands what it is to be unconditionally loved—to be so genuinely cared for that someone would worry about his well-being above all else.
“𝐼 𝑝𝑟𝘰𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝘰𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝘵 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝘰𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦𝘵𝑖𝑚𝑒.”
Your eyes soften. “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝘰𝑛 𝘵𝘰 ℎ𝘰𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒.”
The sensation of your fingers threading through his hair is pure heaven, and as you hold him tighter, you express that this embrace requires no further validation.
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⊱ ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝
Bathed in hues of molten gold and fiery amber, Rafayel watches you set up the dining table with his aunt and Thomas, a scene he will cherish until his very last breath.
The laughter of his favourite people mingling with the rhythmic crash of waves is music to his ears.
“𝑅𝑎𝑓, 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑠𝘵𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒,” you call out. Tucking your hair behind your ear as the salty breeze whips strands across your face.
If only he could immortalise this scene on canvas, Rafayel muses.
But he knows that a painting would never do justice to fully conveying the true essence of this beauty.
“𝛭𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝘰𝜈𝑒𝑑, 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝘵𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑎 𝑚𝘰𝑚𝑒𝑛𝘵?” The quiver in his voice doesn’t go amiss by anyone’s notice as he approaches.
Thomas quirks a questioning brow, while his aunt's gaze softens, her smile somehow knowing as she glances between the two of you.
Normally, he would have a response ready as Thomas quips about the champagne warming, but not this time. 
Not when everything else other than you fades into insignificance.
Overwhelmed with emotion, he pulls you in a tight hug as soon as you both are away from prying eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒,” his voice barely above a whisper, “ℎ𝘰𝑤 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓, 𝑓𝘰𝑟𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟?”
You gently draw back and hold his cheeks, adoring the crimson spreading onto his face and ears, before murmuring tenderly against his lips, “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒.”
At that very moment, it feels as though his heart might combust.
As if every whispered longing he's ever had has come true.
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⊱ ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖
Perplexed is what Zayne always imagined he would feel—wishing to spend the rest of his life with someone is a huge commitment after all.
But now, his heart overflows with nothing but contentment and peace.
With his glasses and book perch on his lap, he attentively listens as you animatedly vent about one of your coworkers, sitting cross-legged beside him on the bed.
“...𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝘰𝑟𝑟𝑦, 𝐼 𝑠ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝘰𝑛. 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑏𝑒 𝘵𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝘵𝘰𝑑𝑎𝑦.”
Zayne frowns, cursing himself as you mistaken his prolonged silence and composed demeanour for indifference.
Setting his stuff aside, he draws you closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as your arms circle around him.
“𝐿𝘰𝜈𝑒, 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝘰𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝘵𝑎𝑙𝑘. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝘵𝘰𝑝 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝘵ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑔ℎ𝘵𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝘵ℎ 𝑚𝑒.” 
A small content sigh leaves his lips as you nestle closer to him, the warmth of your embrace seeping into his very soul.
Long fingers gently stroke your hair as you voice out concern about adding to his mounting stress with your words.
“𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “𝑌𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝜈𝘰𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝘵 ℎ𝘰𝑚𝑒. 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝘵𝘵𝑒𝑟, 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝘰𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒.”
Sometimes he wonders if he truly deserves the depth of love and understanding you provide, a treasure more valuable than any he has ever known.
He is not an easy man to love, yet you wholeheartedly embrace his complexities.
In that quiet moment, with the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtain, he knows with certainty that you occupy a space in his life that no one else can fill.
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⊱ 𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤
“𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝘰𝑙𝑢𝘵𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑓𝑓𝘰𝘰𝑛!” your voice trembles with fury as you cock your gun at him. “𝑊ℎ𝘰 𝑖𝑛 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝘵𝘰 𝑎 𝘵𝑟𝑎𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦? 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑!”
Despite having just slain dozens of degenerates and currently staring down the barrel of your gun, Sylus’s head is oddly silent.
The sight of his enemies’ blood staining your clothes, your hair tousling messily from its ponytail, and the blazing intensity in your eyes—every detail captivates him completely.
Fuck him, you’re perfect.
Exasperated by his grin, you continue calling him all the names in the book: reckless idiot, brainless fool, dumbass…
But he’s your idiot.
Sylus watches your eyes widen as he closes the distance between you, your mouth opening to protest, “𝐷𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑘𝑖—” but before you can finish, he discards your gun aside with alarming speed, lips crashing against yours with a fervour that matches your fury.
It’s not a gentle kiss, it’s an explosion of emotions; a release of all the anger, fear, and love that has been building up.
“𝐼’𝑚 𝑠𝘰𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢,” he says breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours.
Strong hands pull you closer, and he smiles, sensing your fury starting to dissipate as you melt into his cocoon. “𝛢𝑠 𝑙𝘰𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝘵, 𝑛𝘰 𝘰𝑛𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝘵𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒—𝑢𝑠—𝑑𝘰𝑤𝑛 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑦.”
When you respond to him with another creative jibe, calling him a “𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑘-ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝘰𝑎𝑓”, his deep laughter booms through the room.
No one else can and will challenge him like you do, and he lives for it.
Caught in the back-and-forth of your wit and spirit, craving the spark you kindle within him with every word.
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⊱ ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕓
“𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑏!”
The moment your wide smile graces your features upon spotting him down the store aisle, it robs out all the oxygen in his lungs.
Caleb has always known that this relationship is different from his past ones—the thought of seeing you in his future teasing his brain occasionally.
But when you skip to him, with excitement dancing in your eyes, it hits him that he will give everything just to witness that radiance again.
Every day for the rest of his life.
“𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒!” You slip your hand into his and intertwine your fingers together. “𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝘵𝑒𝑚 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝜈𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝘵 𝑢𝑝 𝑠𝘰 ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ.”
He’ll let you lead him to whichever section of the market, and he'll damn well help you get whatever you want, even if it’s questionable whether you need it or not.
Another mini planter for your succulents? Sure, he’ll even buy all of the different designs for you.
When you ask him if he’s alright, noticing his dazed expression, he straight up pulls you into his embrace and kisses the top of your head, murmuring, “𝐼 ℎ𝘰𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑔𝑒𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝘰𝑠𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝘵𝑒𝑚𝑠.”
If he is misty-eyed amidst the bustling grocery store, it doesn’t concern him in the least.
You smile up at him in confusion, noticing the sentimental mood in his eyes. Standing on tiptoes, you give him a quick peck and melt in the warmth of his arms, feeling the beat of his heart against your cheek.
No other place feels as secure and comforting as being in each other’s arms.
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⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST
2K notes · View notes
heavndoll · 5 months ago
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𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
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pairings — catholic!fem reader and eddie munson
summary — you're a good catholic girl. always have been — even though you're dating eddie munson, who's the complete opposite of that. he's crude and vulgar, and his influence may just taint you entirely.
warnings tags — adult language. mentions of religion, talks of god. eddie hates god, but has a god kink. major blasphemy. reader has daddy issues. mentions of jason craver (ew i know). graphic details of smut: loss of virginity (virgin!reader) + corruption. oral (eddie receiving). f!ngering. slight degrading but more praise. wrong usage of a rosary.
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Eddie Munson was merely the Devil in your parents eyes.
To you, he was the seventh heaven.
Crossing paths with him was not a mistake, but a blessing. Eddie took care of you, and loved you. He really loved you.
You met him through a friend who went to Hawkins with him, and you couldn’t perceive him as a bad boy, whatsoever. He was genuine and kind the second you and him met, asking questions about you that no other guy ever had done.
But you knew he was not the guy you could bring home to your parents. Your parents were aware of him, since your father was a Sheriff for the Hawkins department, and always got reports of him.
You couldn’t tell them about your infatuation for Eddie, and how your heart burned for him, belonged to him. You were more faithful to Eddie Munson than you were to your Catholicism, and for you to say that to your parents, would earn you a kick to church camp.
You couldn’t say that their sweet little girl was in love with Hawkins’ freak; that he had told her many ways he wanted to deprive her of innocence and purity; that he dreamed of her worshiping him under her cross.
And you dreamed of that, every Sunday, for the past many month.
You sat in between your father and mother as the Priest read from the bible, and you fiddled with the ending hem of your white, babydoll dress. You stared mindfully at the cross, your head drawing the image of Eddie taking your virginity, rupturing your virtue, right underneath it.
You did feel a bit of guilt when you thought such lewd things, and you did blame Eddie for it. You felt even worse thinking of them in church, where you were supposed to be devoting your love and soul to the Lord, not a wild man.
“Hebrews 13:4 says, ‘Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge’”, the Priest spoke confidently, eyes glancing up to everyone for a second.
You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping tightly on your dress.
What the fuck, Jesus, you thought to yourself. I’m a fucking eighteen year old, of course I want to fornicate!
“Sweet dear,” your mother whispered, and you looked at her. “You look unwell. Are you okay?”
“Do you mind if I take a moment outside?” You wondered, brows drawing upwards. “It feels stuffy. Just for a minute, please.”
She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Very well, then. Be quiet, dear.”
You thanked her, standing up, and quickly — but quietly — dismissed yourself out of the building, pushing open the wooden doors. The second you were outside, you groaned, the doors swinging close behind you.
“I’m damned for Hell,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple in frustration.
“So am I,” you heard a voice come from the side of you. You spin your head, finding Eddie there, smoking a cigarette. “For smoking of the Lord’s sacred grounds.”
“Eddie,” you sighed in relief, walking up to him, and he brought you into his embrace. He kissed the side of your head, before pulling back. “What are you doing here? If my parents — or anyone — sees you, they will make a fret out of it!”
Eddie chuckled. “Is that so?”
“I’m serious, Eds,” you frowned, throwing a small, playful slap to his shoulder. “We don’t need a scene.”
“Ah, I know, angel,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for assurance. “I just needed to see you. Was wondering what you are doing tonight?”
“I have homework, and finish my project on the Betrayal of Judas tonight,” you explained, annoyed at the mere thought of it. “It’s going to take all night. Why do you ask?”
“I wanted you to come by my trailer tonight,” Eddie said, and you smiled, but upset you had to decline his suggestion. “But it’s okay. I’m going to pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”
“If Sister Josie sees you, she will report you to my parents,” you warned, and he only barked a laugh, throwing his head back. “I do not want to be sent to a camp because I was caught with you, Eds.”
“If your parents did that, I’d kidnap you,” Eddie stated, and you rolled your eyes, shooting a look at the church’s doors, eyes retreating back into his shortly after. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can do something fun.”
You raised a brow. “Like what?”
“Anything you wanted,” Eddie promised, giving your chin a soft pinch. “Be good for me, yeah?”
You hummed, and nodded. “Bye, Eds,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he watched you walk all the way back into the church.
You hurried back to your row, perching yourself back in between your parents.
“Feel better?” Your mother asked.
You inhaled sharply. “Much better.”
Your fork poked at the vegetables that sat on your dinner plate, your eyes boring into it. It was always quiet on Sunday dinners, and you never said anything, unless your parents did.
Your mother poured herself another glass of red wine, and your father glanced at you, then his wife. “Got another report today about that Munson boy,” your father cracked the perfect quiet, and was visibly angered. “He’s been seen graffiting near Lovers Lake.”
“And who is reporting that?” Your mother questioned, sipping her beverage.
“Probably that ass kisser, Jason,” you mumbled, and your father slammed his hands down on the table.
“LANGUAGE!” Your father bellowed, and you dropped your fork onto your plate, slouching back into your chair. “Jason is a good boy. A good son of the Lord, and that’s the kind of guy you need in your life.”
“Jason literally tried to kiss me at the eighth grade school dance,” you recalled, scoffing. “Without my consent, may I add!”
“Well you two were children then,” your mother said, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s a lovely boy. His friends are lovely too!”
You purse your lips. “His friends are dumb fucks.”
Okay, so maybe Eddie really did have a bad influence on you. Because you would never — for the love of God — curse in front of your parents, until now.
“What’s with the mouth?” Your father asked, and you glared at him. “You ought to pray tonight to the Lord tonight.”
“I’m just growing up, daddy,” you mocked, standing up from the dinner table, and threw your napkin on top of your plate. You stormed out of the dining room, straight into your bedroom, slamming your bedroom door behind you.
You dropped your body onto your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow. You wanted to scream and kick every object in your room, but refused not to do such a thing.
You were fine with laying on your bed, and smothering yourself with a pillow, until you heard gentle knocks at your window. You jolted up, your head craning toward the sound, and peeked at the window.
And you found Eddie, standing right outside your window.
You cursed under your breath, and stalked over to your window, snapping it open. Eddie smiled at the sight of you, though he could tell you were mystified by his unnoticed appearance.
“Do you want to kidnap me that badly?” You wondered, and he chuckled breathily, shrugging. “You can’t be here right now. My dad and I got into this fight.”
“About me, I suppose?” Eddie asked, allowing himself to jump into and through your bedroom window, and you didn’t stop him. “I know how your daddy likes to talk about me.”
“He said I should be with Jason, or someone like him,” you said, and he closed your bedroom window. “Because he is a son of the Lord.”
“Or the fucking Devil,” Eddie joked, and you snickered, but agreed. “I wonder what your dad would think if he knew you were with me, hm?”
“He would take his shotgun to you,” you admitted, and Eddie took a look around your bedroom. “Anyway, you can stay for a bit, but my father demands I pray for cursing.”
“Their little girl suddenly has a mouth of dirt?” Eddie teased, and you slapped his arm, which he laughed at. “Have I finally corrupted their innocent daughter?”
“Shut it, Munson,” you snapped, and he leaned against your desk, his eyes casting down at your Bible that sat on top of it.
“How about you pray right now? I won’t say a thing,” Eddie suggested, and you raised a brow, tilting your head. “You need to get it over with, anyway. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“You want to watch me pray?” You asked.
“It’d be nice, ya’know?” Eddie grinned, and he could tell you were completely gullible to what he was getting at. “Maybe I could learn a thing or two.”
You considered it, and simply agreed, walking up next to him. You grabbed your bible, and opened it up as you made your way over to your bed, kneeling at the end of it. Your knees brushed against your carpet-like flooring, looking up at your cross.
“Wait, Eds,” you paused, and he was already giving you your pink rosary. You thanked him, wrapping it around your fingers, and held it tightly in your hand.
Your cross hung right above your bed, right in the middle of your room, and your attention diverted from him, to the Bible.
Eddie simply watched and witnessed you speak and pray, and he felt sick for getting aroused to this pure sight of you, pleading for forgiveness from a man who supposedly ruled the Earth. He wanted to touch you, for his hands to memorize and caress every curve of your body.
His eyes unpeeled that baby pink tank top you wore, then went to your white, soft sweatpants. He wondered how it’d be like for you to plead and worship him in front of the Lord as he made you call him your God.
Maybe that was an awful, crude dream to play in his head, but he wanted to have your devotion turn to him, not the Lord.
The Lord couldn’t love and care for you the way he did.
Eddie went over to your bedroom door, and locked it, seeing how focused you were on the pages of pure fiction.
He kneeled behind you, and wrapped an arm around your torso, your body shuddering. He brought you closer to him, planting an innocent kiss on your shoulder.
“Eddie, I’m praying,” you pouted, setting your Bible down for a moment. “You said you wouldn’t disrupt.”
“Just keep going, love,” he mumbled, his tip of his nose brushing against your skin. “Keep praying.”
You rolled your eyes and did so, continuing to recite every word from the pages.
Eddie’s lips made their way to the nape of your neck, getting the sweet scent of your perfume. “What a good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath sending a symphony of shivers along your body. “Doing anything to stay pure and good.”
You nearly faltered, your concentration weakening. His hand trailed to your stomach, resting on your abdomen.
Eddie had touched you before, but not fully — not under your clothes. He even afforded to show you how to touch yourself, but Sister Tina from your school said you’d be banished to Hell for such a thing; so that set enough fear in.
Now, you craved for him to touch him. You didn’t know why in this particular moment — out of every heated, lusting moment — you wanted to feel him, to take you apart, and taint every part of your body, and brain.
You began to stutter as you spoke, Eddie’s hand crawling under your sweatpants, grazing over your clothed area. “Do you think the Lord wants me to touch you?” He taunted, and you hummed, your hands grasping harshly onto both sides of the Bible. “What do you think?”
“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out. “Eddie.”
“I want him to watch me take his devoted angel,” Eddie continued, his fingers creeping into your underwear, and your body flinched the second his fingers pressed against your bud. “Show him that he is no protector.”
You nodded, and Eddie grinned, resting his chin onto your shoulder.
You wanted Eddie. You needed Eddie.
“Keep reading, or I’ll stop,” Eddie warned, and you couldn’t hold onto a single thought as his middle finger curled into your unripe cunt. You moaned, squeezing your eyelids shut to the feeling of it. It was a single fucking finger in you, and you felt like pure bliss.
Eddie continued to pump the individual finger in you, slowly and surely as you tried to read more.
Everything was going smoothly, until a knock hit against your bedroom door.
Your father barked your name, you and Eddie freezing up. “Honey, why is your door locked?” Your father asked, shaking the doorknob. “Are you okay?”
Eddie smirked, his ring finger joining his middle, both pumping into a picked up pace.
“I–I’m praying!” You announced, trying to hold back your noises. “I wanted to pray in privacy, talk to the Lord!”
“Oh,” your father spoke from the other side of the door. “I’m glad to hear that, sweetie. I just wanted to say, you know I’m just looking out for you, right?”
Eddie’s fingers struck an unknown, but euphoric, spot in you, and you choked down a loud moan. “Yeah, daddy! I know that,” you responded, throwing your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder, and the Bible collapsed to the side of you.
Eddie chuckled quietly, using his free hand to wrap onto your throat. “What a filthy girl,” he whispered into your ear, grasping onto your neck.
“There’s bad guys out there, like Eddie Munson,” your father said, and Eddie wanted to bark a laugh. “If you were to be with a boy like that, I’d lose it. Boys only want one thing, and you know that.”
Another noise was lodged in your throat, Eddie having to squeeze your throat as a warning.
“I know, I know! Now, can I continue praying, please?” You asked, and Eddie’s finger shoved into you faster, and harder.
“Yes, of course! Your mother and I are heading to the Martins for a bit,” he acknowledged, and you had to slam your own hand over your mouth. “We should be back no later than 11. Be good!”
You kept your hand over your mouth until you heard the front door slam shut, and the second they did, you freed all your noises. Your chest heaved, your body becoming pudding against Eddie’s.
A hot sensation hit your stomach, and you found pleasure in it. It was an unfamiliar, enjoyable feeling. Your thighs trembled, and Eddie took a quick note to it, noticing how you were barely adjusting to this. “Are you going to cum?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with confusion.
“Cum?” You repeated.
“Does it feel like your stomach is on fire?” Eddie asked, his fingers making themselves deeper into your core, and you nodded. “That means you’re at your climax, love. That you are going to cum. It’s very normal.”
You still had a lot to learn, and Eddie was glad enough to teach you it all.
“Just let it go, sweetheart. Let it be free,” he cooed, and you hummed, your body convulsing the second your climax poured out of you, nearly dropping to the floor. He kept you up and close to him, and you panted, swallowing thickly.
Eddie’s fingers disappeared out of you, removing his hand completely from you. He placed his two fingers in his mouth, getting the sweet taste of you, and nearly moaned. “You taste fucking divine.”
You blushed, and eyed your Bible, picking it up. “I think I got enough forgiveness,” you joked, and Eddie hummed, helping you stand up with him. “I just…”
“Hm?” Eddie wondered, taking the Bible from you, and rested it on your desk. “What is it, sweet girl?”
“I want,” your voice quavered, your head hanging low in embarrassment. “I want more.”
Eddie placed his finger under your chin, bringing your head up to look him directly in the eye. “You want more? You have to be more specific, love,” Eddie mused, and you whimpered. “Use your words, please.”
“I want you to touch me more,” you only knew how to say it like that. Just paraphrase it in that way. “I want you to fuck me?”
“Is that a question or statement?” Eddie jested, and you whined more, embarrassed. “I’m kidding, sweet girl. I know what you mean, but are you sure?”
You nodded, smiling in confidence.
Eddie tugged you closer to his body, his lips smothering yours, and his hands laid on your hips, squeezing them gently. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close to you, your body aching for him.
He led you over to your bed, sitting down onto it as you straddled his lap. Your hands cupped his cheeks, your rosary brushing against his skin, and you could feel him smile on your lips.
His lips fell off of yours, and he stripped off his upper half clothing, dropping them to your floor. Your eyes widened to the view of his body, his abs perfectly toned, and your finger drew around the tattoos he had on the left side of his chest.
“I like this tattoo,” you giggled at the Demon and spider tattoos, and he smiled, kissing the side of your head. “But I will always like your puppetmaster tattoo a lot more.”
“Gotta get you a tattoo one day,” Eddie said, and you shook your head. “Get you a pretty tattoo, just like mine, yeah?”
“I’ll think about it,” you said, and he hummed, his fingers hooking under your shirt. You let him take it off of you, undoing your bra by yourself. You hesitantly shimmed off your bra, the straps sliding down your arms, and onto your lap.
You put it on the ground with the other clothes, and you didn’t stare at Eddie as his eyes gawked at your breasts. You were insecure and worried – he was the first guy to ever see your bare body.
Panic slowly rolled in. “Is it okay? Am I okay?”
“Baby,” Eddie breathed, looking up at you, and then at your breasts. “You are so beautiful. This body, all mine to touch and mark.”
Your worries washed away, Eddie planting loving kisses on your breasts.
“Your body is fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, captivated and enthralled by your gracious beauty. “All fucking mine.” He carefully laid you on your back, on the bed, and hovered over you, his lips falling back onto yours. His body rutted against yours, hands at the waistband of your sweatpants,
“Take them off, Eds,” you breathed into the kiss, and his taste was gone for a moment as he listened, stripping off your sweatpants. You were left in your white cotton panties, and he took a second to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants, both landing on the ground.
You and Eddie were only left in your underwear, and you could feel a hard bulge brush against your inner thigh.
Oh, you thought to yourself. That.
“Are you sure you’re ready, doll?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with assuring, doe eyes, and he kissed your forehead. He reached over to his pants, grabbing his wallet from it, and pulled out a small wrapper from it.
You shivered, and your eyes bored into Eddie as he took off his boxers, and you tensed the second you glimpsed at his cock.
You were about to pray to God again, due to the overwhelmingly huge size of Eddie.
Eddie opened up the wrapper, taking out the condom, and slipped it on. You took off your panties and kicked them off, throwing your rosary too, seeing how they joined all other clothing items on the floor.
“It’s going to hurt at first; if you want me to stop, just say so,” Eddie said, and one of his hands held onto yours for comfort as his other was used to guide him into you. You could feel the head of him at your cunt, and you squeezed his hand whilst his cock made its way into you, slowly and bit by bit.
Your back arched, gasping aloud to the feeling of him fulfilling you. Eddie’s hand grasped onto your jaw, holding onto it, forcing you to hold eye contact with him. “Just take me, love,” he mused, and you whimpered in response.
You were being easily stretched and torn apart by his cock, your virtue draining out of you with every brush of him coming in and out of you. You continued to hold onto his hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand for assurance you were safe.
Eddie kept a steady, delicate pace, taking a clear eye to how you were already in shambles. He was simply dispossessing you of your longing purity, your body and devotion belonging to him now.
This was Seventh Heaven to you — this was all of the joy and exhilaration you longed for.
Your cunt adjusted to his size, and your hand let go of him, setting both of them onto his shoulders. “More, Eddie. Please,” you pleaded, and he began to drill himself deeper into you, his hands pressing onto your stomach for support.
You squealed, his eyes on the way his cock thrusted into you. Your body elevated upwards, and your glossy eyes caught a glance of the cross above your bed.
If this corruption was so cruel, so vile, why did it feel so fucking amazing?
Flares of euphoria spurred throughout your body as wanton, lewd noises elicited out of your mouth, and filled your bedroom. Embers of pure, raw desire were in Eddie’s eyes the second they fell back into yours, his breath shuddering his rib cages.
A firestorm grew in your stomach, and your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, earning a harsh moan out of him. “‘M gonna cum,” you told him, your chest falling up and down rapidly. “I need to cum, Eds.”
“What a sensitive whore you are,” he taunted, and you groaned, the fire spreading into your thighs. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for your God.”
Your lids sealed shut as your climax peaked and rushed out of you, your body moving with a hard jolt to it. Eddie nearly laughed mockingly at you, your delicate, unripe body, now sweating and shaking from sinful sex.
You barely had collected the fact Eddie referred to him as your God, but you didn’t hate it.
You liked it.
“I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth,” Eddie said, and helped you sit up as he took off the condom. “I always told you I’d find a way for you to worship me. Get on your knees, angel.”
Eddie tossed his condom into your trash bin, turning his attention back onto you.
You obeyed, and stumbled to your bedroom floor, collapsing down onto your knees. Eddie seized your rosary, and took the opportunity to tie up your wrists with the symbolized jewelry. You whined, tugging at your hostaged wrists.
“Open your mouth for me,” Eddie said, standing in front of you. Your mouth popped open, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth, creeping them to the back of your throat. You gagged the second his fingers hit your throat, your eyes watering.
You stared up at him with pure and pious eyes, that were almost daunting, too.
“How are you going to be able to take my cock, when you can barely take my fingers, angel?” He asked, and a tear trickled down your cheek. He was amused by this single tear. “You worship me?”
You nodded as his fingers left your mouth, his knuckles brushing along your cheek. “Yes, I worship you. Only you,” you assured, giving the edge of his palm a delicate, small kiss. “You’re my religion.”
He chuckled. “Such a good little thing you are.”
Eddie’s fingers curled into your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. His hips pushed forward, his cock stuffing your opened mouth.
You remembered your friend told you about blowjobs — that you make sure your teeth don’t touch, or it makes it unpleasant. Your friend wasn’t as faithful or pure as you were, only going to Catechism to please her parents.
Eddie’s cock continuously hit the back of your throat, drawing inchorenet gargles from you as tears lined at the brim of your eyes. Your throat was brutalized, yet you soaked into the pain of it, taking pleasure in every second of it.
Your eyes rolled back the deeper his cock went, his teeth gritting together, and moaned your name like a mantra.
Eddie’s head fell back, his hips snapping into your face, and you gurgled, trying your best to breathe out of your nostrils. “Shit, shit, I’m close,” he told you, and that was the only warning you were given, nothing else. “Keep your mouth steady and open for your God, baby.”
His climax flooded into your mouth, your tongue getting a salty taste of his high, and he pushed his cock out of your mouth. He tried to catch his breath, sweat beading at his forehead and body, his fingers unhooking from your hair.
“Let me see, doll,” Eddie said, and you happily showed him the way his cum sat on your tongue. “Mhm, that’s a good girl. Swallow it.”
You closed your mouth, taking it all down at once, and he kissed the top of your head. He unknotted the rosary, and your wrists were glad to be free.
Eddie sat the jewelry on your bed stand, and helped you up, sitting you down on your bed afterwards. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He panicked, and you shook your head, a few strands of your hair matted to your teary, sweating cheeks.
“Did I do okay?” You asked, and he frowned, cupping your cheeks, caressing them lovingly with his thumbs.
“You were wonderful, sweet girl. So good,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and dressed. You still have that project.”
You groaned, barely remembering it. “Oh fuck!”
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acid-ixx · 6 months ago
Note
I have this thought in my head of reader calling Connor "my heart" and Connor calling reader "lovely" and Jason calling Conner "bitch"
just a taste (again &. again drabble)
ft. yandere connor kent x reader w/ the batfamily.
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masterlist ! reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
— tw suggestive, making out scene. i need someone to draw what i envisioned for this omg... pls let this blow up i love connor and u guys seem to love him too hehe. if u guys want to see me write more of these (w/ other characters) pls do comment below!
the 90's version of connor will have no filter in front of your ex-family and will literally appear right beside you moments before tim could drag your ass back to the manor, your already vulnerable state panicking at what seems to be a sleep inducing drug that he'll soon inject into your system.
but your boyfriend, kon, is one step ahead of your entire family, already having planned against them shall they ever abduct you.
he'll greet you with a flirtatious smile, even biting his lips as he checks you out, eyes flittering throughout your entire body like it was you were a glamorous display of meat for him, ignoring your brother's presence while at it.
"hello to my lovely darling!~" is what he tells you with a purr in his tone, kissing your cheeks for what seems longer than a second, hands immediately encasing your waist right before tim could make a show of grabbing your wrist. your boyfriend's grip is tight but comforting at the same time. you feel like you don't deserve it but if you voice out your insecurities now then you'll only find yourself smothered with kisses; him flirting with you in front of your supposed abductors would only worsen the situation. but you don't feel too anxious right now, because he's kneading the soft flesh of your waist, rubbing sensually in up and down strokes as if making a show in front of tim and the countless of cameras that litter the public space.
it's his way of telling you that you don't have to worry about anything but his affection, and his way of telling your family to 'fuck off, don't bother our moment together'.
you reciprocate with a hasty kiss to his lips, ignoring the side eye and the smug grin he gives to your brother after.
"hello to you too, my heart..." you fight back the urge to melt right into him, but it seems like he could easily read your mind, his hand settling itself into your head comfortably, scratching your scalp with well-timed precision whilst he leans your head right against his chest, right where you can hear the soft thumping of his heart.
what a flirt.
but you expect it. after all, he's the same guy who brags about your relationship to anyone and everyone he knows. it's no wonder tim easily tracked your location to the same place where connor lives, every puzzle seemingly being put into place.
when you had both caught bruce wayne tailing after you when you had gone on a date with him, it was connor who immediately devised a plan after he had to calm you down from panicking.
your lover is willing to sacrifice everything for you.
so it's not a surprise to you that his next course of action was to shamelessly take you flying away with him, off to somewhere desolate where he knows your family couldn't easily track you in, somewhere only you two kept a secret from everybody; a shared house, if you will.
nothing is shocking about what he had done...
... not until his grip on your body provides enough opportunities for him to just, make out with you then and there, tongue and all, without a care if your brother bears witness to his shameless display of lusting towards you.
what a prideful asshole he is, but he's your asshole now. and you can't bring it in yourself to reprimand him, enjoying the sweet sounds of your lips smacking in tandem and the taste of your favorite brand of coffee in his saliva as you two soar off into the air making out, exploring each other's body; your hand finding each other on his neck, another on his head, pushing him further near you, until your noses touched and until you struggle to breath, tongues lapping in tandem, refusing even a second of reprieve, even allowing him to bite your lips teasingly.
you love it when he uses his charms to take you away from the stress of your current life.
it was a distraction for both you and him, from the thought of your family turning kon into their new target as he defiles what little innocence they thought you had.
yet you enjoy this life, and you'd rather not come back to the stuffy manor, especially not right after kon offers you a taste of what you had never experienced; love.
and you embrace the giddy thumps of your heart for once with all the joy in the world, because you're not alone anymore in your own personal endeavors; you finally have someone. and that someone is your boyfriend who's always there for you, at the right time in all the wrong moments.
and kon? he especially enjoys using his superhearing just to eavesdrop on his ex-friend's seething because he was far too late, he loves hearing the growl on jason's voice over the comms as he calls connor a bitch, a seething pile of trash for taking away from them. he loves being an audience to their well deserved suffering. but...
but he can't focus solely on them, no, not when he's barely finished devouring every drop of saliva his eye candy offers him.
... ah, he loves it when you give yourself so willingly to him, when you let him wrap his arms around your body without fear he would hurt you, when you allow his hands to explore further below, fingers dangerously close to your thighs as it kneads the meat from your hips.
connor is never letting the world take you away from him.
it was you who parted first from the kiss, a string of liquid dispersing from both your swollen lips. if it wasn't for the fact you both are still high up in the air, you wouldn't doubt that your boyfriend wouldn't hesitate to undress you then and there.
but he could control himself for now, just for now.
'oh, babe... whatever you're doing to me is so irresistible.'
whatever happens after in your shared home is a different matter.
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watchmegetobsessed · 7 months ago
Text
SOFT LAUNCH
A/N: luckily i actually wrote this concept for once lol
WORD COUNT: 2k
SUMMARY: You officially soft launch your relationship.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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Your usual barely changed when your relationship with Harry moved from a friendship to a romantic relationship. Well, at least your public usual. 
Because in the privacy of your home or when around you it’s strictly the people you trust, a lot changed. The kisses, the touches, the looks, it’s obvious just how hard you fell in love with each other and your friends often tease the two of you for being great actors for hiding all of these the moment you step out into the public. Very early into your relationship the two of you agreed to keep it as private as possible, so the world didn’t see a single thing of how you eased from being friends into becoming a couple. 
Spotting you out and about together wasn’t a new thing, you’d been friends for a while before you finally took everything down another road, there were plenty of pictures of the two of you grabbing lunch or coffee, hanging out with friends or even attending events. The moment you were spotted for the first time rumors started spreading that you might be an item, but with time they died down and back then, they weren’t true. But what people didn’t see was the shift that happened behind all those simply friendly pictures, how you both fell for each other and your love blossomed steadily and undeniably behind the scenes while everyone else started to accept that you are nothing more than good friends. 
There were photos, still, but what the tabloids didn’t see was the kiss you shared the moment you were behind closed doors. 
It’s been over ten months and you’re definitely over that first phase where all you can see is the pink clouds, no one around you is questioning if this is just a fling, it’s quite clear you are planning your future together. 
There is a downside of keeping your relationship in the shadows however, a kind of freedom is taken away that’s given for everyone else. Date nights have been restricted to your or Harry’s place, if you wanted to go out somewhere you always needed extra people around you so it wouldn’t look romantic. You haven’t been able to go on a vacation, just the two of you, because it would draw suspicion, so it’s been always with others, friends and family. You can’t set your favorite photo of him as your lockscreen, because fans are always quick to spot him in the tiniest details. 
It’s not that you want to post about him day and night, that’s not your style, never was, you like to keep things private, it might be selfishness or consciousness, doesn’t matter. But some days it would be nice to hold his hand as you walk down the street, share a reassuring kiss as you wait in line at the coffee shop or share a photo to your Instagram that features him and only him. 
So it’s been lingering in the back of your head, the thought of being just the tiniest bit more public, allowing yourself to enjoy your love outside of the comfort of your home. 
This is what your mind is racing about as you watch Harry move around the room. The warm Italian sun is peeking through the curtains, calling your name for another wonderful day, exploring Rome. The white, rippled sheets are snaked around your body comfortably, the other half of the bed is still warm from his body. You’re currently residing in a villa that’s hidden enough from curious eyes to let you be yourself even in the backyard, not just inside. 
You mindlessly scroll through your photos from yesterday while Harry is showering and when he appears with a towel wrapped around his hips, hair still damp, water drops running down his chest as he is scratching his jawline and you already know what his question will be. He stops at the end of the bed and opens his mouth, but you’re quicker.
“Do you think I should shave it?” you ask, imitating his voice by lowering yours. He gives you a cheeky look.
“Well, should I?”
“Told you, I love you both ways.”
“Okay, but you surely have a preference,” he pushes.
Sighing, you sink deeper into the pillow, keeping eye contact with him. 
“The stache is… always more than welcomed.”
He chuckles and then walks back in. When he emerges a minute later he is dressed and his facial hair is still the same. 
“Up, up! We have a lot to see today!” He reaches under the covers and easily finds your leg, wrapping his hand around your ankle he tugs on you gently, to which you just grunt at him disapprovingly. 
“Just five more minutes!”
“Come on, don’t you want to explore more?”
“Yeah, but I also want to sleep more.”
“Think of all the pasta and pizza we could be eating right now…” He barely even finishes, you’re already jumping out of bed, sprinting towards the bathroom. Harry just chuckles.
A couple of hours later your little group is grazing the streets of Rome again. You haven’t planned anything major for today, just exploring and having a relaxing time. To be honest, your feet are thankful for a slower day, you feel like you’ve walked around the world these past couple of days. 
Sometime after lunch, your group breaks up. Some want to go souvenir shopping, others want to go back to the villa while you and Harry plan to check out a hidden little park you read about online. So now it’s just the two of you strolling down the streets and as you listen to Harry talk, all you can think about is how your hands are hanging by your sides, sometimes even brush against each other, but you can’t hold his. 
When you find a great spot with amazing view of the city you instantly want to take a picture together, one where Harry is hugging you from behind, the panoramic view of the city in the background, you can already see the picture in your mind and you also think of a place in your home where it would look amazing framed. 
But you know you can’t take a photo like that, you can sense how a few girls recognized the two of you, now they are a few feet away, pretending like they are just casually taking videos, but you know they are recording you and Harry, so you can’t risk it. 
Instead, you both just take pictures of each other, staying as friendly as possible. Your phone is still in your hand when the girls come up to Harry at last, starting a chit chat with him and asking for photos that you end up taking of them of course. They thank his time politely and the two of you move on. 
When you’re lying in bed at the end of the day you’re scrolling through your gallery, smiling to yourself at some of the candid pictures you’ve snapped of Harry today. These are your favorite, when he is just being himself and you catch a glimpse of his true essence, keeping it forever in that frame. 
Then you find a photo you took probably accidentally when the girls approached you earlier. You must have snapped it when you were putting away your phone, it features Harry standing on the cobblestone, but only his feet and his tattooed arm is shown, his skin is a warm tanned color from being out in the Sun so much lately, his tattoos look so cool, you always loved the edge they give him. It’s also such a candid picture and for some reason you just love it so much, it’s exactly the kind of photo you’d post on your Instagram story. 
The door to the bedroom opens and Harry walks in with two bottles of water in his hands, he places one to your nightstand before he joins you in bed, opening his. 
“Why are you staring at a photo of my… arm?” he asks with a chuckle, when he sees what you have open on your screen. 
“You have a nice arm,” you grin up at him. “I just… like this photo,” you add with a shrug. 
Harry hums, but doesn’t really get stuck on the topic. He turns his attention to his own phone, sneaking one arm under your head, pulling you closer to cuddle him. But you’re still stuck on the photo and all the feelings and thoughts you’ve been struggling with. 
“H?” you finally lift your head to look at him. 
“Yes baby?”
“Have you ever thought of… being a bit more public? About us?”
He locks his phone and puts it aside to give you his undivided attention. He never fails to make you feel like his number one priority.
“I have, yeah.”
“And what do you think if we just… went for it? What if we just stopped hiding.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I just… I would love to act like a couple more, not just when we’re alone, behind closed doors. I’m not saying we should make out on the street, but… Holding hands, a few tiny kisses, these would be nice.”
Harry stays silent and you grow nervous that he might see it all entirely differently. You know it better than anyone else that Harry values his privacy highly, however he is not the most private public figure either, that’s also fact. 
His gaze finds yours and slowly, you notice a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. 
“Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m okay with that as well.”
“Really?” You let out a relieved breath as you sit up in surprise. He chuckles.
“Of course. I just wanted to protect you. And I will still be doing that, but if you feel like you’re okay with being a couple for the rest of the world as well, then let’s do that.”
At first you pout at him, touched at how calm and supportive he is about the whole thing, then you just throw yourself at him, kissing him stupid. 
“So then can I soft launch you?” you ask against his lips. 
“What?” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Soft launch. I want to post this picture,” you say holding up your phone again, showing him the photo from earlier, “on my Instagram story. Your face is not shown, but everyone will know it’s you. That’s a soft launch, posting a suspicious but not straight forward picture of your partner.”
“Okay, Miss Urban Dictionary,” he laughs, his hand cupping the back of your head to bring you down for another kiss. 
Cuddling to his side you open Instagram and then put the line ‘LOVE-ly day in Rome’ between his tattoos so it’s not quite what you notice at first, but it definitely catches your attention if you look at the photo for a few more seconds. 
“How do you like it?” you ask, showing him your phone.
“The best soft launch of history,” he teases you before you finally post it. 
Then you watch what happens together. Though you don’t have as many followers as Harry does, a lot of his fans engage with your social media profiles as well, hoping to get some content from you as well. Just a few minutes later the photo starts spreading across the internet of course, it reaches Twitter, Tiktok and other platforms, the reactions are mixed and pretty much all over the place, some aren’t the nicest, but Harry is quick to remind you just how much he loves you. 
When you both put your phones away, shutting the rest of the world out, you’re lying in bed, facing each other, your hands laced together between the two of you. 
“Now it’s out there,” you whisper.
“Softly,” he jokes and you just roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Is hard launch a thing as well?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s that like?”
“Well, it has to feature your pretty face, preferably in a romantic setting.”
“Will we also be doing that?”
“Hmm… maybe.”
“Okay,” he smiles warmly. “But soft or hard, I will always love you.”
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