#i need to learn how to draw her w MORE MUSCLES

[splootdoolies]

a lil somethin in between zine stuff!!

[alottiegoingon]

hc!baby steps

sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: where sam takes care of her pregnant girlfriend

warnings: f!reader but no pronouns used, looots of fluff, established relationship, sam and reader live together, overprotective sam, ghostface!sam hcs at the end, mentions of murders and blood but nothing explicit, not proofread

୨୧ sam could not believe when you told her you were pregnant. for the first five seconds she was worrid about money and not being prepared to be a mom but she couldn't be more excited to start a family with you

୨୧ sam would be so careful to not overwhelm you with her protection and anxiety of keeping you safe all the time. she had learned her lesson with tara

୨୧ so, instead of asking you all the time if you were ok, she would stick to you like glue. it was weird to have an extra shadow following you everywhere but you didn't mind it

୨୧ you and sam decided that moving to a safer apartment in new york would be better for the baby. a better neighbourhood with nice schools around. you thought it would be easy, until sam started being a bit too cautious

୨୧ “this one is perfect. there's plenty of natural light," you look around the fourth apartment you visited in that afternoon, hoping that your girlfriend would approve this one. it was the perfect size too

୨୧ too small, too big, too dark, too smelly, noisy neighbours, too far from work. sam could be pretty demanding

୨୧ “it's great, sure,” judging by her voice, you could tell she had found something new to complain about, “but the windows are too big, it could be dangerous," she nods in disapproval, holding tight to your waist as if you were about to fall from the windows even if they were meters away

୨୧ “the baby is not going to be alone, sam. and we can protect the windows and add some nests or baby proof locks” you suggest but she didn’t seem convinced. she would fight the windows if she could!

୨୧ "right. but what if the baby learns how to open them? or what if the safety net is big enough for our baby to go through it?”

୨୧ "is our baby a genius or the ant-man?" the joke relaxes her just enough so you can see a shy smile growing on her lips. “i’m sorry, i just want us to be safe.”

୨୧ “i know, and i’m very grateful for you,” you hold sam’s face, stroking her cheeks, “but i promise that we are going to be safe. i’m okay, the baby is okay and you’re okay. it’s all good.”

୨୧ “i may be worrying too much again,” she admits, leaning into your touch, finally relaxing

୨୧ “just a little, yeah,” giggling, you draw closer to kiss her

୨୧ sam wouldn’t panic over every single thing that happened, at least not out loud, so it was very easy for her to get anxious about her own feelings

୨୧ trying to not make you anxious as well, she would just swallow all of her worries away and hope for the best but you’d always notice how the look in her eyes changed when she’d get nervous

୨୧ “what’s going on, baby?” you’d often comfort her with reassuring words, tender touches and lots of kisses, making sure that sam knew you were completely fine and always by her side

୨୧ sam would be the perfect partner when shopping for baby itens. she’d be sooo happy to pick some adorable baby clothes or whatever you needed and would even try to find matching clothes for you three

୨୧ no matter how many things you had bought, she’d carry all of it and would beg you to not carry any weight or move an extra muscle

୨୧ “give it to me, love, i’ll do it,” sam grabs the water bottle from your empty hands, fighting for her life to open it and carry all off the at least five bags in her arms while doing so

୨୧ “are you sure? cause you already have a lot of-“

୨୧ “it’s fine. i can do it, don’t worry,” she offers you a comforting smile that lasted about a second before going back to duel with the bottle, cursing it while trying to balance the bags

୨୧ you had the weirdest cravings ever and when going out for dinner once, you asked the waitress if they could bring you tuna and ice cream for dessert and it took a weirded out look coming from the woman for sam to intervene

୨୧ “yes, she asked for ice cream and tuna. do you have any?” and she’s all over her like 😡🙄

୨୧ at the supermarket, you were by the sweets section trying to choose a chocolate you liked for a movie night with sam and you gasped when you found your favorite one for sale

୨୧ you were ready to grab one or two when sam showed up with a different cart so full of it that a few ones were about to fall

୨୧ “oh, god,” you mumble, widen eyes incredulously staring at the mountain of candy

୨୧ “i know right? i’m so glad they have your favorite” 😁😁

୨୧ sam would get some good hours of sleep at first but as the baby’s arrival date was getting closer, she would spend almost the entire night just watching you sleep and making sure you were 100% safe and sound

୨୧ sometimes you’d wake up to sam whispering the most adorable shit ever to your belly and calling herself mommy. you were dying there, trying not to bawl your eyes out, but you pretended to be asleep every time, not wanting to interrupt the moment. eventually you’d fall asleep again to the sound of her voice and gentle touches

if ghostface was out there,

୨୧ sam would be extremely overprotective. no going out alone, no talking to any neighbors, no answering phones or getting too close to windows. doors would always be locked. if she could, she would lock you in a tower just like rapunzel

୨୧ sam had to leave for work but leaving you alone was the worst of her nightmares, so she found a way

୨୧ “don’t you think this is a little too much, sam?” you ask, frowning at your girlfriend as she introduces you to a intimidating strong guy wearing a suit. you could swear that he had a gun hidden in there but wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did, sam protectiveness was no joke

୨୧ that was supposed to be your new bodyguard, who would follow you around everywhere. including the shower you were about to take

୨୧ “don’t worry, gorgeous,” she grins, assuring you. “he’ll stay outside”

if sam was ghostface,

୨୧ she would kill everyone that had been rude to you. literally. even the slightest unusual look or barely rude tone would be a great reason for anyone to make it to her list of names

୨୧ if she was ghostface, that waitress that was surprised by your weird tuna-ice cream order would definitely have a surprise visitor waiting for her at home later

୨୧ while shopping for clothes for yourself, a miracle now that everything was about the baby, a woman refused to let you have the last gorgeous dress of your size, even calling you a bitch when all you did was ask her if you could have it

୨୧ sam was furious and you had to hold her back to avoid the other woman to get beaten up and the police to get called

୨୧ the very next morning, you woke up to the news of the same woman found dead in her apartment, her exact face showing up on your tv

୨୧ "what the…" you immediately get up from the couch as you heard the news, looking back at sam who was at the bathroom taking a shower or something. "sam, come here! i think that woman from yesterday got killed.”

୨୧ "really?” she yells from the bathroom, fingers firmly rubbing the blood out of a small cut she had on her cheek, that would later be covered with makeup.

୨୧ "that's awful,” she quickly walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, stopping right next to you. “i mean, i wouldn’t be surprised if her attitude was what got her killed" she casually comments, eyes attached to the television

୨୧ "sam!" you slap her shoulder and she groans in response. "the woman was killed, don't say that."

୨୧ "you’re right, im sorry," she smiles, reaching her free hand towards you and holding your chin to turn your face to hers so she could place a kiss on your forehead. "it’s a shame she can’t use that dress anymore.”

[wehaveimagineshere]

You don't have to write anything on this if you don't want to or don't feel comfortable, but how about some smut with Gale and an afab reader where she tells him that she struggles with vaginal dryness and he's like "Well I can think of one way to fix that..." and goes down on her. Bonus points if she's super shy and has a hard time explaining it to him and is super oversensitive because of it

Sorry if this isn't in your comfort zone, I'm going to go crawl in a hole now 🙈

Hi! You didn't specify an admin so little ol' me, Ren, will be taking this. I read this and got so excited. I had to look up more details about vaginal dryness (the name itself says a lot but I wanted to make sure I knew what I was writing about), but like. I love this prompt? So much? Being open and honest about body differences is so good, and communicating about it is just mwah.

I hope you like this piece, anon!

A little note: Google can only tell me so much. If I got something wrong like didn't accurately explain vaginal dryness right, or took the wrong guess on how past experiences could happen, or anything like that, please please tell me! I'll endeavor to fix my mistakes. I want to learn and make sure I represent this right (:

~*~*~

His fingers trailing lightly down your spine, you twine your own in his hair as you draw him closer, deepening the kiss. A soft sound escapes from your lips as his fingers find the hem of your shirt and slip under, fingertips trailing fire as he languidly explores your skin. Gale breaks the kiss only to find your neck, teasing with tongue and teeth as he makes his way slowly to your collarbone, humming as your neck bends to give him more access.

Hearing nothing but your heart hammering in your chest, you let your own hands wander, tugging free the belt around his waist so you can run along the planes of his stomach, marveling at the movement of his muscles when he shifts.

His own hands move lower, cupping your ass and drawing you close as he catches your lips once more. Your move your hands up his back so you can press against him, feeling that familiar mix of longing and anxiety as you feel him straining against his pants.

He won't push, you know, won't try to sneakily slip his hands down your pants or ask you to do something you've already said no to. But that guilt still sits and squirms in your chest, thrashing in the blankets of shame and fear, making it hard to tell him why. Why you keep the clothes on, why you hesitate when things start getting real heated.

You know you have to tell him, you want to tell him, but the shame and fear of rejection has so far kept your tongue glued.

But tonight... Tonight, maybe, you can finally get it off your chest.

Breaking through the haze, the temptation of his touch, you step back and catch his eye. He immediately drops his hands to your hips and squeeze reassuringly. "Too much?" he asks gently.

"No, it's..." Taking a deep breath, you step outside of his reach, bringing your arms up to hug yourself. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Anything."

You can already feel the embarrassment heating your cheeks and neck already, your eyes bouncing from rock to tree to leaf and back as you fight for the confidence and the words you need. "I, um. H-How much of the human body do you know?"

Raising an eyebrow, Gale takes a moment to think. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific. I've read tomes talking about anatomy and biology, though I'll admit recounting what I learned may be difficult."

Biting your bottom lip, you shift as you take a deep breath. "Well, I, um." Pressing your lips together, you try again. "I kind of have a...problem."

"Are you well?"

"Yes! Yes. I-It's nothing that is contagious, or anything. It's." Now you're outright chewing your poor lip. "It's something about me. And, well, i-if we're going to be..." You raise your shoulders up, hugging yourself a bit tighter.

Raising his hands up, Gale says gently, "You don't have to tell me if you aren't ready. We all have our secrets and are allowed them."

"No, Gale, I want to tell you, I just." You sigh. "It's embarrassing, and I don't want you to think less of me, or--"

"I would never think less of you." He tilts his head, a small smile testing his lips. "Unless you go on a murder spree, but even then, I feel I would assume your victims deserved it first." Your smile is more of a painful one and he drops the attempted humor immediately. "Sorry. But I do mean it, whatever you need to tell me, I won't think any less of you."

Rolling your lips together, you say hesitantly, "I...have trouble...getting wet."

He shifts, brows furrowing. "Can you elaborate?"

"It's... Mm. You know how when..." You huff. "Women get wet, right? When things get heated? I... I don't, really." How you wish you could disappear into the ground. "I mean, I do, but, I don't. It isn't, it isn't you or anything, it's just... How. How I am."

His eyes drift as he processes, and you only have the courage to watch for a few seconds before your eyes drop to your feet, your chest so tight it's hard to breathe.

"If I'm understanding right," he starts finally, "I just have to tease you longer."

Your face flares so hot you fear it might melt. "I mean. Maybe. That might help."

Smirking, he takes a slow step forward. When you don't retreat, he draws your arms from vice gripping your chest and holds your hands, bringing one to his lips, eyes studying your face as he says, "I have a tongue, and I'd like to think I know how to use it."

You barely squeak out, "Gale--"

He chuckles, drawing you closer, resting his knuckles against your cheek as his smirk drops. "Thank you for telling me. And as promised, I don't see you any less."

Your smile is wobbly, hopeful. You should've known Gale would be different. Swallowing back the prick of tears, you say, "And I, um. I'd like to..." You gesture between you.

His smirk is back. "Shall I summon the bed?"

A small chuckle escapes. "Please."

So he does just that, setting up a magical bed in the nearby clearing. A four poster bed with elaborate bedding and even a canopy, sheer purple drapes drifting lazily in the calm breeze.

He leads you over, waiting for you to find a comfortable spot on the bed before he follows. Propping himself above you, he searches your gaze and, finding no denial, exposes your tummy and gets to work.

He starts right below your ribcage, tongue trailing the bones and sending a shiver up your spine. Moving up, not down, he drags the shirt up as he moves, exposing your breasts before covering one with a hand and the other with his mouth, tongue circling your nipple as his thumb plays with the other.

Your back arches without your consent, breath stuttering as he nips gently, licking away the sting. Your knees draw up as he opens his mouth to trail back down, his fingers trailing the hem of your pants before hooking underneath.

He glances up at you, and it isn't until you nod that he pulls, exposing your sex to the chill air. You shiver at the sudden change, though his warm hands finding your thighs and his breath ghosting lower takes no time in banishing the cold.

A kiss to your folds as you inhaling in expectation, and the groan that escapes as his tongue dips between would be embarrassing if you weren't already so far in the haze, the pleasure.

Gale wasn't wrong when he said he knew how to use his tongue. Using the tip of his tongue, he teases that sensitive bundle before calming the sensation with the tongue's body, a languid couple licks that has you absolutely squirming.

He goes just a bit lower this time, tip of his tongue pressing just above your entrance before trailing up, his teeth this time nipping and sending your back arching high. He repeats the motion, spending more time alternating between teeth and tongue, and you can do nothing but squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe as your limbs shake.

He leaves his hands to knead your thighs and hold down your hips, especially as his tongue finally finds its way to your entrance. He circles it lazily as he huffs breaths, and you feel his chuckle as he finally slips in, your hips bucking as you gasp, fingers clawing at the magical sheets.

Gale takes his time. Slow, methodical pumps and licks and putting just the right amount of pressure before backing off, finding somewhere else to tease. It builds that pressure in your stomach so achingly slowly, but you're drowning in the pleasure, both impatient and enjoying every single wet, warm touch of his tongue until you aren't sure how long has passed, aren't sure if you're dizzy from his ministrations or you aren't getting enough air in your lungs or both.

The edge beckons, calling to you, and it becomes almost impossible for Gale to hold your hips steady. So he lets go. He allows you to ride his tongue, as hard and quick as you need, to find your release.

And you find it quick.

It shatters through you, your cry stumbling out of your throat as you simultaneously gulp for air, the sheets held in a death grip in your fists. You don't know how long it takes for the stars to subside, for you to start acknowledging reality again.

For you to look over at Gale, whose chin is positively drenched. With you.

He smiles, lips shimmering with your wetness.

You laugh a breathless laugh as he moves back up, fingers feathering down your jawline. "I believe," he says, smile morphing into that grin, "you are now ready for me. What do you think?"

[myfixationacademia]

SO! a few days ago i decided to start drawing Bakugou and maybe do a series where i make my own versions of some of the MHA characters in my style along with a couple of headcanons i have.

The headcanons are under "read more" along with a surprise >w>

-Katsuki was named by his dad as a homage to Mitsuki, who had to go through emergency surgery after birth while Masaru rocked lil baby Kacchan in his arms trying to calm him down, eventually the newborn falls asleep when Masaru hums some lullabies to him, the moment he was no longer in his father's arms, Kacchan woke up with one of the loudest cries in the hospital, his mom still remembers the migraines;

-Katsuki met Izuku after the boys met on a sidewalk and they talked about heroes and all of that, unknowingly introducing All Might to Deku, but neither tell each other their names until they meet again with their moms, both women shocked that their sons have met already;

-After the incident in the river, Kacchan forced Deku to walk far from him, claiming that he did not need his help, however, years later he confessed that not only he regrets knocking his hand away due to pride, but also because he actually sprained his ankle in the fall, so he was walking weird on the way home and had to put on a cast and a gel for his muscles that smelled really bad, the blonde does not get angry when Izuku bursts out laughing when he said that "the gel smelled just like my grandma";

-Speaking of grandma, Masaru's mother had accused Mitsuki of cheating on him because, in that family, every one of her sisters had granddaughters, Masaru was quick to cut ties with her but she came back when she heard her grandson was now the number one hero, she said that he was honoring the family name, only Because Masaru did not want his mom to argue with Mitsuki and that was the compromise they got cause otherwise he would have taken her name, and that it was natural cause they were a family of winners and victory was in their blood. Mitsuki argues that Katsuki did everything on his own, sometimes in a pool of his own blood, but the old lady is persistent that SHE had something to do with this success, only for Katsuki to drop the bomb and also announce his and Izuku's wedding and that he would take Deku's surname, the woman starts yelling at Katsuki before Deku promptly picks her up along with her luggage wheel bag and puts her outside, asking her to not bother them, she still tried to show up to the wedding but thankfully she didn't;

-One of the reasons for Bakugou to give his 1-A classmates weird nicknames is because Bakugou has a certain difficulty in remembering names, he can remember faces really well, hence the nicknames being based mostly on physical features like Mina having dark scleras, Iida is the only student with glasses, Todoroki's split hair, but not names, it can take a long time for Kacchan to memorize the name of someone he just met, also hence why Izuku's nickname is one based on the kanjis forming his name, not his appearance;

-Katsuki develops poor eyesight like his father once he grows up a bit, by his second year at UA, he started to wear glasses and contacts;

-Masaru was the one at home most of the time to take care of Katsuki while Mitsuki went out to work, and while father and son were there, Masaru taught Katsuki how to cook, clean his own room, take out the trash and other domestic activities around the house that needed to be done, leading to Bakugou being the one responsible at the dorms in assigning the activities of each student in his class as well as teaching how to do them the proper way;

-Katsuki starts wearing hearing aids after the war, as his hearing was compromised a bit during combat, and his...nap, it helps that he was already learning sign language;

And now the surprise, i think you all remember the healer Deku drawing i made, well, out of curiosity i decided to see if there were any differences in their height and...I was not disappointed in the slightest

LOOK HOW SMALL DEKU IS XD

[witchthewriter]

Hey, I think this is where I do this and I believe I did everything I was supposed to! I've never done this before. Feels almost rude lol.

Can I request a level 6 ship for House of the Dragon, Grishaverse, and Stranger Things? I may come back for more lol.

About me!

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: straight but wouldn't kick Gal Gadot out of bed lol

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

MBTI: INFJ/P

Zodiac: Scorpio sun, Scorpio moon, Pieces rising

Moral alignment: probably chaotic good

Looks: short, hourglass-ish figure, busty, sharp nose, blue eyes, pale skin, blonde hair just past my shoulders (a lot of people ask if it's my natural color so...I guess it's pretty?), my friend says I have elegant hands

Hobbies: reading, writing, horseback riding, belly dancing, traveling, photography, d & d if my group can ever get things organized, drawing, knitting very badly.

Likes: dogs, horses, bears, bats, tea, wine, books, caramel, pasta, classic rock, guitars, Impressionist art, Bach's cello suites (preferably played by Yo Yo Ma), comforting cartoons, old sweaters, bookshops and libraries, swimming in lakes, classic muscle cars, London, feathers, obsidian, red, blue, protest rallies, old shows like MASH and the Golden Girls, kids.

Dislikes: math, conservatives of any kind, bigots, not being able to protect the people I love, panic attacks, depression, cancer, people who mistreat animals and children.

Personality: I'm self-deprecating and have low, LOW self-esteem for sure. I've got a fun sense of humor. I'm pretty intelligent. I'm very protective of the people I love, ride or die for sure. Would help you hide a body 100%. I'm very passionate and want to help people. I'm good with kids but don't know if I'd ever have any of my own. Will abandon everything I'm doing to go pet a dog. I have anxiety and depression. Am healing from personal trauma. Learning how to love myself the same way I love my family and friends. I am an anxious apologizer. I love and feel very, very deeply.

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! Thank you! You rock!

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈 

You're not being rude at all! You did everything right and it's an honest exchange. I hope you enjoy the ships, and have a happy holiday! P.s. you can absolutely come back for more!

Also when you said you have low self esteem, honey I completely understand you. I had such low self-esteem for such a long time, and I still do. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm right here. I hope you know how worthy you are of life and of love. self-esteem

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝐴𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑇𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑒𝑛! He would help you come into your own person. Help you develop yourself in all areas; hobbies, skills, personality etc. I think he would be a mentor, friend and lover. 

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・He didn’t want to do it. But Alicent insisted. You were a dragonseed, who had claimed Silverwing, and Alicent wanted you on the side of the greens, rather than the blacks. 

・Not really enemies to lovers. More reluctant to be in each other’s presence. But over time little slips of information would tumble from the both of you. And you started to like each other ... to care. 

・So your friendship grew, and it grew and grew until you had beat him in training and he smirked as the knife was at his throat. 

・Likes to lay next to you and watch the stars. You’d both mount your dragons and fly to a lonely hill and stay there overnight. 

・Hearing your laugh is the best noise in the world to Aemond

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

We Know What You Whisper by Ludwig Goransson

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔: ✧ He Looks Dangerous But Is Actually Soft x You Look Soft, But Are Actually Dangerous ✧ Both Wary of Love & Don’t Think This Can Be Real ✧ Bully Turned Puppy Lover

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆: ✧ Forced To Teach As Punishment

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢: Your honesty, authenticity and ride-or-die attitude. The way you stay with the people you care about, ready to fight for them whenever they need it. 

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑: Would be Laena and Rhaenyra. You three would have so much fun together. You'd be known throughout Westeros as the three devils or something. Your adventures would be told throughout the cities, and you'd never get into trouble because you're rolling with the two most powerful daughters in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

𝑊𝘩𝑖𝑐𝘩 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐼 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒: You remind of Rhaenyra so much! You seem like such a cool, down-to-earth person. Very genuine and authentic. There's something about you, just this energy - do you have some Aries, Sagittarius or Capricorn in your zodiac chart?

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕:

You're bonded to the dragon Silverwing. She was the mount of the great Queen Alysanne (the wife King Jahaerys) who was the grandparents of Viserys, Daemon and Rhaenys II. Queen Alysanne brought about a lot of good change for the women in Westeros - she asked the female citizens to join her in a meeting and would regularly ask for their opinion on their troubles.

Silverwing is also the mate of Vermithor, the mount of King Jahaerys.

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝐸𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑒 𝑀𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛! I think he would be such a hoot. Every time you hang out he makes you laugh and forget about your troubles. He really boosts your confidence and is absolutely astonished when you talk about your self-esteem. He thinks you are absolutely beautiful.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・You live in the same trailer park that Eddie and Max live in. You probably joined the Hellfire Club when your mum said you HAD to do an extracurricular activity at school.

・He intimidated you at first but you didn’t let it show. That’s what drew you to him. And then he realised you lived only a few trailers from each other (you already knew since you had a crush on him for years but he never noticed you before). 

・Makes mixtapes for you and labels them as memories you’ve shared together

・Loves when you show interest in Lord of the Rings - he literally talks your ear off. But he’s so grateful that you care

・Asks you the most random questions because he wants to know everything about you. And you know what? He memorises all your answers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Bilbo's Song by Howard Shore

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔: ✧ Unhinged (Eddie) x Partially Hinged (You) ✧ Emotional Support Animal In Human Form ✧ Dumbass (Eddie) x Oh God That’s My Dumbass (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆: ✧ Secret Admirer

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢: That you don't judge him, or anyone else for being 'weird'. You let people live their truths and listen when they need an ear or a shoulder to cry on.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑: Is Robin Buckley! You love it when she's passionate about something and wants to show you. She feels like a sister too. Someone who will always be on your side.

𝑊𝘩𝑖𝑐𝘩 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐼 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒: A mixture of El, Will and Robin. Very intellectual, and can see the world through different perspectives. But you can be quiet until you're comfortable.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕:

You found him wandering around the trailer park. He didn't have a name tag but was especially friendly. A bit thin but a wagging tail, you couldn't help but take him home with you (he was more than happy to come, he literally just followed you)

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔! I hate when the protagonist goes with the ‘good guy’, when the evil option is RIGHT THERE! The Darkling would never save the world over you. He would burn everything to the ground to save you. You’re his ride or die. He would never give you up. 

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Touches your cheek so gently, looking into your eyes like you can’t be real. But you are. And you love him, no matter what. 

・Calls you his world, his life, his heart. You are apart of him and he’s apart of you. You were meant to be together. 

・Knew you were the one when you weren’t scared of his powers, his shadows. You were intrigued, excited. You didn’t want him as an amplifier like everyone else. You wanted him ... for him. 

・His mother likes that her son has someone who loves him so fiercely. But she knows that his plan for the world will come true with you by his side. So she’s very conflicted. 

・As a Grisha yourself, you’ve been trained by the very best. He made sure of it. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Return of the Lion by Harry Gregson-Williams

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔: ✧ The Moon and His Star ✧ Curious and Wide-Eyed (You) x Has Seen Everything, Thinks It’s Cute (The Darkling) ✧ “We’re Going To Rule The World Together”

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆: ✧ Destiny

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢: Your loyalty. The way you won't give up on people, even if they seem too far gone. Your all-in attitude. He just loves it about you, because he has the same energy. You don't have to worry if 'you're too much', because he loves it. All of it. All of you.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑: Would definitely be Genya Safin! You two would bond over feeling like outsiders. She would tailor on you different hair colours or make up looks. And there would be a moment where you would come crying to her, asking her to change the way you look and she would. But show you in the mirror and say:

"I can change everything about your appearance. Every. Goddamn. Thing. But it doesn't change what's in here" and she would point at your heart. Because there's no one else like you, and there never will be. You have so much power and likeability that you don't even see.

𝑊𝘩𝑖𝑐𝘩 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐼 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒: Alina and Inej. Although you have low self-esteem, you have a genuine aura about you. Before people meet you, I bet they're really intimidated by you, but once they spend time with you they realise how amazing you really are.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕:

A very smart and reliable Raven. She always brings you messages from the Darkling when you’re apart and somehow understands you. She’s a beautiful thing with a good heart that can pick up your spirits. 

[yet-another-haven-of-dollya]

can i ask advice ;; drawing wise ? how did you start to anatomy but also w stylization? did you bruteforce by studying every bone muscle etc in art school?

hmm...

First, you must distinguish between two completely different concepts: gesture and anatomy. The stylization and dynamic you often see me doing with my dancing practice is "Gesture". This is an excellent tutorial by Proko about gestures. I practiced gestures very soon when I started drawing, simply because I wanted to draw dynamically, lucky for me it was the right thing to do. This was the main reason why I'm so fast at sketching.

This is my gesture practice, 1 min, 2 min, and 5 min sketch. It's about the flow of the body and which direction each part is going, use "sharp and coherent lines". I practice until it becomes a "natural reflex", a habit when I look at people's interactions.

This below is something I drew 3 years ago (my anatomy was not good sorry), notice how I use many many coherent lines? At the thigh, shin, arm stretching,... all the bigger areas? That's the remaining of gestures.

It goes without saying. Try to find the flow of gestures, even for the hair or clothes. Heh, I drew this 4 years ago, how nostalgic.

You can see how I just create the flow with Lya's hair and body movement in the dancing pics too. Like with Kylar's pic her body is straight up one quite hard mass from head to toe. You know she's leaning forward, seemingly wanting to abandon Kylar with a "pathetic loser like you? With me?" attitude (ouchie sorry Kylar nation). While in Sydney's pic she seems much more relaxed and enjoys how her body parts seem to loosen and more in sync with Sydney's movements. Her hip and legs sway more, and her hair also sways back at Sydney's body, hinting that her moves are relatively close to his body. I don't think I have enough vocabulary to describe, gestures are always just "feelings" to me. If people see what I want to show, that's the success for me.

I know many self-learners started by finding random tutorials that have muscle breakdown or box-like proportions to try and mimic. Mimic is good, drawing is mimicking and remembering what you saw, but without good gesture practice, many people tend to make anatomy very stiff.

Then, you start to apply anatomy to the gestures you've practiced. One way to do it is by learning about muscle position first, and then trying to apply it to a figure, or a model. This is my homework and it's HORRIBLY WRONG IN MANY WAYS. My teacher fixed it for me but I don't have the after with me right now, so take this as an example of how to do the apply thing, DO NOT USE IT AS MUSCLE REF it's very wrong.

In my opinion bone structure is not strictly needed like muscles. Bones are for muscles to hang onto. You only need to remember some important "landmarks" like the collarbone, elbow joint, anterior pelvis, knee, and ankle,… to hang the important muscles to it. After you're familiar with muscles and gestures, you can start to stylize. Applying your knowledge to animated characters with cartoonish design is one great way. THESE HOMEWORKS OF MINE ARE STILL WRONG but ye hope you get the idea. I'm still struggling with anatomy.

One of my all-time fav are AFK ARENA artists and what they do for the game. Aki as the main artist, Kuri Huang, and another artist I suddenly forgor the name as home screen illust. I recommend researching their works if you want a direction on how to stylize your character with great dynamic gestures and shapes.

And

As much as I hate to say this, I was particularly considered a failure, a stone-head, who couldn't be changed for the better when I was still in art school - uni. My chosen major was digital graphic design, not specified in drawing but in designing, that's one thing I regret. I traded 5 years of my youth for doing the things I don't want to do. That's why the moment I graduated, I immediately went and signed up for an advanced art class specified in drawing. I'd be lying if I said the uni didn't teach me anything about drawing. They did, but almost everything I learned during 5 years of uni was self-learning from outer sources. I encourage self-learning the most when I talk with younger artists. Proko is a very trusted source to learn from, go to their YouTube channel, and you might figure out something too.

[profound-imagination]

Never Again - Ruhn Danaan

A/N - There isn't enough fics on here about Ruhn, send me your recommendations if you have them because he has my whole heart.

T/W - Drinking, Smoking, Capture, Torture and Talks of injury.

Enjoy ❤️

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"When are you going to stop drooling over my brother from a distance and actually tell him how you feel?" Bryce bumped your hip with hers and her voice pulled your attention from Ruhn who was currently playing beer pong, the muscles in his arms flexing deliciously, as you realised you had, in fact, been staring at him. "I don't know what you mean, B." Hunt huffed a laugh from next to her, you had gotten used to his constant presence even if you did miss having Bryce to yourself, you understood why he very rarely left her side, Bryce scoffed at you. "You've been head over heels for him since the two of you met. Even more so since he took you in after what happened during spring" what she left out was how you'd lost your parents and brother during the fight. She crossed her arms, her face told you not to argue with her or deny it, a move she had clearly learned from Danika. "Don't look at me like that, I can't tell him." Bryce raised an eyebrow and it was Hunt that spoke "Why not? Do you not see how he looks at you? What's the worst thing that could happen if you tell him?" Despite initially being terrified of the Angel in front of you, you had learned to love him as you did Bryce, how could you not? He'd used his own body to protect Bryce from that missile. "Uh, he could hear me?!" They both laughed at you and Bryce seemed to drop the subject. "Let's go get super drunk instead then?" She asked as she watched a beautiful Faun saunter upto Ruhn and your heart tightened as he smirked down at her.

Bryce had kept her word, you were super drunk, the two of you giggling together as Hunt kept his eye on the both of you, nursing his own beer. He moved instantly as Bryce stumbled forward to catch her if she needed him, it was fascinating to watch, they were like magnets, she moved, he moved. "Tell him." She slurred. "You deserve to be happy, tell Ruhn." Hunt laughed at her and said "I should get her home." You nodded as her words replayed in your brain, you should tell him, you were drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol if it blew up in your face and drunk enough that it sounded like a good idea.

You stumbled with the couple to the door and then found your roommates in the living room, giggling as Flynn pulled you into his lap and handed you the joint he'd been smoking. You didn't take much notice of the conversation you'd been pulled into with Ithan, Dec & his boyfriend, instead you were watching every move Ruhn made through the room, gods he was beautiful. You were vaguely aware of Flynn playing with strands of your hair as Rhun approached the sofa and threw himself into the empty space on the other end of it. "Ruhnnnnnn" you crooned, a grin spread across your face as you scrambled out of Flynn's lap and over to the prince, feeling brazen you crawled into his lap instead and placed the joint you'd been smoking between his lips, he took a drag and took the joint between his fingers as you watched the column of his throat as he inhaled and exhaled. "Hi there pretty girl, where have you been all night?" He asked, you smiled up at him. "With Bryce and her babysitter." He chuckled at you referring to the Umbra Mortis as a babysitter. Ruhn's other hand rested on your thigh, his thumb drawing little circles as he joined in with the conversation all the while you just stared at him. "What? Something on my face?" He asked, teasing filled his voice as he lowered the joint to your lips for you to take a drag, you giggled again. "No, you just have a really really pretty face." Then you booped his nose, sober you was going to die of embarrassment. "I think you've had too much to drink." You shook your head in denial "I have something to tell you, it's important! A confession if you will!" You slurred at the prince, a drunk grin spread across your face as the others silenced their conversation, all eyes on you.

"Are you sure about that, Y/N?" Ithan asked, breaking the silence, concern written across the young shifter's face, Ruhn looked at him, trying to work out what you were on about. You'd learned later that Ithan had told Ruhn mind to mind to take you away from the crowd for what you were about to confess. You nodded at Ithan. "Yes pupper, I'm sure." Crossing your arms defiantly across your chest, Tharion snorted out a laugh at the nickname and Ruhn chuckled again, the vibrations of the sound flowing through your entire body. "How bout you tell me while we get you ready for bed?" Ruhn asked as he stood with you in his arms, handing the joint back to Flynn. "Mmmkay." You mumbled into his neck as you decided you never wanted him to put you down as his scent filled your nostrils.

"You okay in there?" Ruhn asked from outside the bathroom, you responded by answering the door fresh faced and wearing only one of his old T-Shirts that you had claimed as your own, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and guided you towards your room as you stumbled along with him, he crouched next to the bed after he'd gotten you into it. "What did you want to tell me, sweetheart?" He asked gently, you took a deep breath and "iloveyouRuhn." It tumbled out, that was not what you'd been rehearsing in your head in the bathroom, he smiled. "I love you too." You shook your head. "No, Ruhn, I love you, more than I should, more than friends love each other. I don't know what I would've done without you, you held my hand through everything, you are my everything." You were mumbling by the end, confidence ebbing away, he ran a hand through his hair before stroking yours out of your face. "I knew what you meant, but sweetheart, I'm technically engaged-" You cut him off, your heart shattering. "I know, I shouldn't have said anything, it's okay, goodnight Ruhn." You rolled over just in time so he didn't see the first of the tears roll down your face, you heard him sigh, he leaned down and kissed the back of your head. "I wish it could be different." He whispered to you in the dark as he left the room.

Ruhn felt his heart break as he closed your bedroom door and he caught the first of your sobs, he wanted nothing more than to turn around and take you in his arms, promise you it'd all be okay and that he'd get out of his engagement but he knew he couldn't. "Ithan, get up here." He said mind to mind, within seconds Ithan was bounding up the stairs, he took in Ruhn's tense stature "She finally did it then?" He asked, Ruhn went to answer as another sob racked through you and both males flinched. "I can't comfort her through this, it won't help." Ruhn was aware of how broken his voice sounded, Ithan nodded. "I've got her Ruhn, don't worry." He said as he slipped into your room. Ruhn stayed put for a few more moments, long enough to hear you sob to Ithan "I ruined everything" and Ithans attempt at soothing you, reassuring you that you hadn't, that there were things beyond either of your control.

You cringed thinking back to that night all those months ago, the two of you hadn't spoken about it since, you were barely home these days, working as much as you possibly could so you could get a place of your own and get out of the house, Ruhn was trying his hardest to carry on as if you hadn't laid yourself bare to him but you couldn't, your heart hurt every time you saw him. You knew he wouldn't tell the others but they could all sense something had changed between the two of you as you now stuck to Ithan like glue.

You walked into the living room to find Ruhn frantic, Bryce and Hunt were tense as he was telling them about Agent Daybright, a rebel he'd been mind speaking too, or seeing, how he'd told her things he'd never told anyone, how they made each other feel alive, how he'd planned to meet her at the ball, how they'd slept together, how he needed to go to the Archives with them, she was in danger and he needed to save her. What little was left of your heart broke and Ithans eyes shifted to you, Bryce gave you a sad smile, Ruhn was too frantic and hadn't yet noticed you, you grabbed the joint that sat in the ashtray on the coffee table and turned on your heel, Ruhn turned then. "Y/N, wait, please?" He sounded desperate, Flynn's firesprite cheerleaders floated over to you as he spoke, one of their little hands touched your cheek "Why are you so sad, pretty one?" She asked as you continued walking away, the sprites following you.

You'd smoked the whole joint by the time Ruhn knocked on your door. "Come in." He entered as the sprites left to find Flynn and took a seat next to you. "I'm sorry" was what he opened with. "Don't apologise to me, you should apologise to your fiancée however." You threw back "I guess I deserve that" he admitted "Yeah, you kinda do." He sighed as "I never wanted to hurt you" you braved a look at him. "Is it me?" You asked so quietly that you weren't sure he'd heard you "Of course not! I just, I, I don't know, I have no explanation or excuses, I just know I hurt you and it sucks." Anger started to fill your veins "So you're apologising because you feel shitty for hurting me?" He said nothing so you spoke again "I'll be outta the house by the time you get back." His eyes shot to yours "This is your home!" He insisted, you shook your head "We both know you'll go and be a hero, save the girl and bring her back here and I can't watch it Ruhn." He nodded dumbly as you stood and walked to the old oak dresser in your room and picked up a necklace that was on top of it and handed it to him "It'll keep you safe, don't take it off." You watched as he put it on himself. "I won't."

Ruhn Danaan wasn't sure how everything had gone so horribly wrong. Day was The Hind, yes, she'd saved him from The Harpy but still. His sister had disappeared through a gate, Hunt, well he wasn't sure what was going on with Hunt and he and Baxian had ended up in the dungeons underneath the Archives. Lidia tried regularly to break through the walls he'd built in his mind but she hadn't gotten through. The next time they'd met Lidia was tense, having been sent to hurt him, her speciality. He felt none of what she did and she'd only started when she'd spotted the necklace you'd given him. This went on for days or weeks, he wasn't sure. "This will keep you safe." That's what you'd told him and he'd started to wonder if it was some kind of pain amulet and if that was why he could feel none of the torture he endured day in, day out, week after week.

He was convinced he'd never see his brothers again, that he'd never see his baby sister again, that he'd never see you again as he was thrown back into his cell, bloody and beaten. Baxians eyes widened upon seeing him, no, not him, the necklace hanging round his neck. "Where did you get that? Who's wearing the other one?" He asked, Ruhn had no idea what he was on about "A friend gave it to me before we came here, she said it'd keep me safe, why? What is it?" Ruhn asked the Angel. "It's a protection amulet, part of a pair, you can't feel anything they've done to you can you?" Runh shook his head, no, he couldn't and Baxian sighed. "That's because whoever is wearing the other is taking all the pain through the power of the necklaces." Ruhn roared in pain, in anguish, in anger. He'd ruined things with you by doing what he did with Day, more than they were already ruined by his engagement and all he could see was you at home being hurt by an assailant you or his brothers couldn't see. "I don't know that she's wearing it." He rasped, desperately trying to convince himself, the Angel spoke again "You'd feel the pain yourself if she wasn't."

Ruhn was pulled from his fitful sleep to the sound of screams and the smell of smoke when Flynn appeared at the bars of his cell "Ruhn, get up, we've gotta go, Ari can only hold them off for so long!" This was a dream, it had to be a dream. "Are we taking the Angel too?" Flynn asked and Ruhn was vaguely aware that he was nodding as Flynn hauled him out of his cell and started dragging him down the hall he had come from, Baxian behind them, then there was Ari, sending fire everywhere and Ithan, Ithan was here, in wolf form, taking Mordoc, Baxian growled. "He's mine." As he shifted and launched into the fray, Tharion was there as well, launching water cannons at people that got too close, the three firesprites were flying towards him, his sword dragged between the three of them "Your highness, we found it!" They told him as he lifted an arm to grasp it.

"We gotta go!" Flynn shouted at the others, as he dragged Ruhn towards the throne room. "Dec has got the gate open, to take us to safety but he can't keep it open for much longer!" As the group approached the gate, none other than The Hind appeared from behind it, took them in, and smiled. "Go!" She said as she sauntered in front of them to face The Hammer who had burst through the doors on the other side of the room. "You!" He spat at Lidia who smiled at him. "Yes, me!" And she took up her fighting stance, Ruhn watched her move in amazement as the others went through the gate, he flinched as she was disarmed. "Come with us!" He called, she glanced over her shoulder at him and shook her head. "Go home Ruhn, she gave up everything for you and she's waiting for you." Those were the last words of Lidia Cervos and Ruhn watched in horror as Pollux cut her down. Flynn dragged them through the gate and they landed outside a house he didn't know and the gate fizzled shut.

"Come on, we'll explain everything inside." Flynn told his brother as he supported him in walking to the house, just because he couldn't feel them doesn't mean the injuries he'd sustained weren't there. "She's waiting for you." Lidia had said, does that mean you were here?

"They're back." You watched Dec sag with relife at his own words and your weakened body felt lighter than it had in weeks. You watched as the group filed into the house, body too weak to run to them when they reappeared outside, Ithan padded in, still in wolf form and shifted as he walked over to you, it took all you had to push yourself up from the sofa they'd turned into a cosy bed for you when Flynn walked in with Ruhn, Ithan took your arm to help you stand and took all your weight to keep you upright. You took the prince in, his injuries the mirror image of yours, he in turn, took you in, beaten, bruised and broken, all to protect him, it was worth it you'd reasoned with yourself, worth it to keep him from feeling the agony you'd endured on his behalf.

After several moments of tense silence, just staring at each other as everyone else aside from Ithan and Flynn had left the room to allow this reunion to be private, Ruhn pulled himself out of Flynn's grip and launched himself at you, tears lining his eyes. He fell to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist and Ithan let you go, and he and Flynn left you to it. "Why?" His voice was broken, sad and you ran a hand through his tangled hair. "It was worth it. I was worried what would happen if you got caught and I wasn't going to let you feel it." Ruhn pulled himself to his feet and took your face in his hands, his thumbs running over the bruises and cuts there. He rested his forehead against yours and said "Never again. You don't ever put yourself through that for me again." You gazed so far into his eyes you thought you'd drown in the colour of them. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat." A tear slid down his face as one of his hands moved to the pendant around your neck and he tugged it off. "Never again." He said as his lips finally met yours.

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[neorukixart]

Can you share more about your adult Rika? please 🥺 I love her already and I want more 🙏

Oh mai gah ;w;

Well, to be honest... I made her considering the "canon" we were given with the 2018 CD drama and with time, I've been slightly changing her clothes and hairstyle :3c

I don't have an specific tag for her 28 years old version, but you can find more in my Makino Ruki tag uwu

In the CD drama, it was confirmed that she was into freestyle motocross while in the Digifes skit (which I just partially enjoyed, mostly for Oririn being there and talking uwu) she started to practice bouldering and eventually she began to teach kids about it.

This is the "canon" so far, now be ready for my headcanons and why I draw her like this (because we were never given how the tamers look as adults).

Short hair to match my obsession with Oririn (Ruki's seiyuu) having some roles in other animes where after a timeskip, they got short hair so it seemed like an obvious choice for me (ง ื▿ ื)ว

Even after all these years, I have yet to properly know how motocross works but I thought that having long hair would get in the way when putting the helmet so, another point for short hair XD and I'm sure that you need at least some amount of endurance and strength for motocross and bouldering so I bet with all my soul that SHE HAS MUSCLES, RUKI MUST HAVE MUSCLES. Maybe not Super Saiyajin muscles but enough to make all those acrobatics ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and I have yet to draw her showing more muscles, someday I promise m(_ _)m

I've also been trying to draw her with some kind of "biker" vibes which speaking of bikes and motocross, I think she realized she liked that because deep down, she misses the times when she could ride Kyuubimon and feel the breeze so, that's my bet plus maybe she thought Beelzebumon's looked cool with that bike :3c

Thanks to the 2021 skit, we know she teaches bouldering to kids as I said before which makes me think that she's actually very good with kids like how she tried to confort Shaochung when they were fighting Beelzebumon so, I don't find it odd for her to have patience with children and bet she gets real proud of them, overall if little girls approach her saying something like "I wanna be like Makino-sensei when I grow up!"

I can even picture Ruki getting troubled at first when kids wanted to learn from her so, maybe she would go to get some advice with Juri (and since apparently Takato is no where to be found, bet Ruki takes Juri on her bike for rides and dates  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) huhehe)

Even without Renamon, Ruki makes her best in life everyday just as she promised so I can tell she takes a lot of challenges from time to time plus as the nerd that she is, she collects the new Digica and no one can tell me otherwise~ even just consider for a moment that if the Adventure-verse is "fiction" within the Tamers-verse, then what if they got the chance to watch tri. and Lastevo? I bet you Ruki watched every single one of them and buys a lot of merch but won't never admit she has quite the amount of Digi plushies (ง ื▿ ื)ว only Juri would know but Ruki, having watched the movies before hand, won't let her watch tri. for two easy reasons: Leomon fuckin dying and Hime-chan losing Bakumon.

Speaking of the Digica, I don't think she would keep playing "professionally" in tournaments and alike, but if it's with friends she would GLADLY crush them with all her might uwu but she would find the Digi videogames a waste of time (and games in general tbh) but she enjoys watching Jian and Hirokazu play Cyber Sleuth. Juri would totally enjoy Survive if I'm honest :3c and once Ruki sees the battle system, she might get interested but only if Juri is there to enjoy the rest of the Visual Novel while Ruki fights xD

Also, if the Vital Bracelet were to be a thing in Tamers, she won't hesitate to get one with Renamon and she would only put effort on evolving into Sakuyamon for the sake of good times but she won't let anyone know she got one as she stays firm in her "games are a waste of time" motto ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I think that's all I have for now... to resume: buff biker Ruki because I want (ง ื▿ ื)ว

[poguestvff]

LIKE A BIG SISTER SHOULD — WHEEZIE CAMERON

in which wheezie cameron finds that blood doesn’t make you family, love and affection does.

taglist | masterlist | 2.5k words | @pogueslandia ,

warning(s): food, she/her pronouns, ward slander, a little sarah slander but that’d include reading between the lines. why’d this make me want to make a series of reader and Wheezie being best friends.

There's always been a heavy feeling of loneliness that rested upon the youngest cameron's shoulders, weighing her down as it seemed to pile over the years. Her siblings were always older, an age gap between them that even if it was shortened by a few years, their worlds would still be two different things. All three of them were in three different stages of life yet somehow it felt like Wheezie wasn't even there at times.

Throughout the entirety of her schooling career so far, everything had somehow been about Rafe and Sarah. Sarah was the perfect one; the paragon who could do no wrong. Even if Sarah tried to disobey, it'd be turned around to be made out as a minute mistake. She'd probably be able to get away with it a second time if she did it a different way. Maybe the same way.

Rafe was quite the opposite. The bastard child who needed a plentiful amount of attention in hopes he can be more like the paragon. With all this attention, his head only grew. It never gave him the space for growth. It minimized the space to stay exactly where he was for years on end.

This left Wheezie to be the ostracized sibling. She wasn't a social butterfly or a poster child like Sarah and she definitely wasn't a loner or the 'damaged goods' child like Rafe. She was just... average. With average grades and an average personality. Just average old Wheezie. She told herself this consistently, watching her father balance his attention between making sure Rafe stayed between the lines he'd drawn for him in a radius such as a dart board and allowing Sarah step out of them, even erasing some of the lines so she could walk on by them without a second thought.

But Wheezie was stuck in that tiny little circle in the middle, the bullseye as if scared to move out of those lines. The one place that was the hardest to pinpoint specifically by her father. But there was one thing Ward Cameron always said correct about his younger daughter. That he wouldn't be able to pin point his little dart of control into the middle of the board because she was misunderstood and misunderstood she was.

Though one person had been able to pick up on every single one of Wheezie's emotions.

Y/n Y/L/N was a pogue who had done tutoring on the side for a little extra money and when John B had recommended Y/n for help with Wheezie's homework, Ward was quick to say okay. He hardly even asked a thing about Y/n, just telling her to help Wheezie pass eighth grade and that was all. It was made very apparent to Y/n that was Wheezie was not as much of a priority to Ward as other things were.

Their first tutoring session, Wheezie was awfully dismissive. She didn't care for any of Y/n's efforts as they sat within the comfort of Wheezie's bedroom. She just wanted the entire hour to be over with the second she'd entered her room but Y/n was insistent, knowing that by the end of the school year she would have something instilled in Wheezie's brain. She just didn't know what that something was yet.

The second time they met, Y/n was more passive aggressive in hopes of breaking down the brick walls Wheezie had stored between her and everyone else in hopes of not disappointing them like the way she thought she'd disappointed her father. Y/n sat her down in her desk chair, swiveling her chair to her as she rested her hands on the younger girls shoulders. "You are going to have a really awkward couple of weeks if you and i don't become friends so no work today. We're playing 20 questions."

That night, Y/n learned a lot about Wheezie Cameron that she never thought she'd learned. Wheezie hated the color purple, she just painted her room that color because Sarah liked that color. Wheezie loved to paint and to draw, it was her favorite activity, she just rarely showed it bevause she hadn't believed in herself. Though, when she showed Y/n the canvas' that were shoved at the back of the closet, Y/n marveled at them. But Y/n's favorite fact, and the same one that almost made her hug Wheezie on the spot, was that she was never taught to swim and Y/n made her a promise that she would teach her.

As the weeks went by, Wheezie waiting anticipatingly for Y/n's beaten down, green ford bronco to pull up on the driveway and she'd leave the house with a giant smile on her face. It’d be early in the morning, a little less than an hour until school started, just like how Wheezie liked. She'd jump in the driver seat, embracing the smell of vanilla from the scented item hanging from the rear view mirror. She’d toss her bag to the back as Y/n would ruffle her hair, just like she had every morning. "And beloved was set in... late 1856!" Wheezie answered excitedly as Y/n drove down the final street towards her school after the two had gotten breakfast together.

"Perfect! You're gonna do so good on your test, Wheeze, I promise." Y/n told her ecstatically as she pulled into a parking space. Just before Wheezie could get out, Y/n held her upper arm just to gain her attention before she got out. "Tell Rose she doesn't have to get you after school. I'll leave school early and you and I are having a girls day. No studying, just me, you and a shit ton of sweets."

Wheezie smiled, she could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to hurt from how wide she had. She tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, eyeing the look of excitement on Y/n's face. "But why?"

Y/n shrugged, adjusting in her seat and fixing her rear view mirror. "Cause, you deserve it. I'm so proud of you, Little W." She told her, looking back towards the girl and seeing her smile slightly drop. "You okay?"

Wheezie couldn't remember a time where she was genuinely told that. Yeah, sure, Ward said it a few times but it'd be in a lousy tone before he'd wave her off, saying he was busy with whatever office work he had to attend to. Sarah may have said it a few times but it was rushed before she'd run after her friends with a quick goodbye to Wheeze, leaving her alone in the sand. It was never sincere. Not in the way Y/n had said it.

She rubbed her hands against her jean clad thighs with a sharp breath before nodding. “Yeah. I've just never really been told that before. Like—Like genuinely." She said, lowly, in hopes Y/n would understand and wouldn't push it.

Y/n had known Wheezie long enough to know her tells and avoiding eye contact was one of the biggest ones. So she didn't indulge further in the conversation, brushing it under the rug but knowing she'd have to go diving back in for that little tidbit later on. Instead she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from over the console. "I'll tell you i'm proud of you everyday if i have to." Y/n muttered before kissing the top of her head. "Now go, if you're late to first period, your dad will kill me." And Wheezie was able to leave the car with a smile on her face, already looking forward to the day planned later on.

Y/n was overall consistent, it was one thing Wheezie enjoyed knowing that when she made promises she tried to keep them as best as she could. Sometimes things slipped her mind but Wheezie could recognize that Y/n didn't forget a thing when it came to Wheezie. Like she made sure to engrave bits and pieces of her into her mind like a data chart. But it showed she cared and that was enough for Wheezie.

Y/n cared enough that when she entered her car after school, the smell of her favorite cinnabon's filled the car that made her look in the backseat, seeing a picnic basket. There wasn't a chance, right? You could only get them on the mainland. She turned her body swiftly towards the elder girl who sat with a smirk on her face. "You didn't?"

"I did. Second I left fourth period, got on a ferry just for you to have those overly sweet treats." Y/n said, tapping her nose with a 'boop'! "And I almost got stuck on the mainland because of it so you better enjoy the hell out of them."

"I will, I promise." Wheezie said dramatically as Y/n smiled, pulling out of the parking space to head down to the beach. Wheezie had said she didn't have a bathing suit, not prepared for the outing, though Y/n already said she had ransacked her room for clothes for after. Y/n was the only person allowed in Wheezie Cameron's room without Wheezie being there and the elder girl took pride in it.

As Y/n set up their small area for the few hours, she noticed Wheezie standing just where the water and the sand met. She kicked around the water with clear disinterest causing Y/n to huff, hands on her hips, before tossing off her hoodie to get in. The splash she'd made by pushing herself into the water made Wheezie jump, a laugh falling from the two's lips. "Come on." Y/n said, standing and holding her hands out to Wheezie.

"Y/n/n, I can't swim."

"Y/n/n I can't swim, well, obvi, i know that, little W. But, you have your amazing best friend to keep you afloat. I won't let you go, i swear." Y/n said, holding up her pinky.

"Swear?"

"On my life." She reassured with a trusting smile before Wheezie walked further in. When the water had gotten to her above her waist, it'd freaked her out a bit though Y/n talked her through it, coaxing her further in slowly. Wheezie was kept above the water as Y/n held her hands as the buoyancy was used to their advantage. "See, not as bad as you thought?"

Wheezie shook her head though still nervous. "Not as bad, not my thing though."

"Why don't we try actually swimming? I won't force you if you don't want to and we can get back to shore right now but maybe just try?" She asked as Wheezie had to think about it for a moment. She almost felt guilty, remembing just a few months ago when Sarah had asked her if she could teach her but she refused. Though maybe, just maybe, it was because of Y/n being a bit more trust worthy that Wheezie said yes this time.

It took a while, Wheezie was frightened by letting go even as Y/n would say she was okay. Wheezie would tighten her grip on her shoulders before trying again and again until she eventually got it. She finally was able to keep herself above the water without flailing, recognizing that she was okay. Y/n cheered as she watched, not caring for the stares of others around them. "See, dude? You just have to start applying yourself! You did it!"

"I did it!" Wheezie said as Y/n hugged her, the two laughing before Wheezie screamed making Y/n's laughter die fast. "Something touched me!"

"Wheeze, it was seaweed." Y/n said softly before turning and letting her place her hands on her shoulders. "Yeah let's get you out of here before a jellyfish gets you."

Wheezie widened her eyes. "Jellyfish?"

As the sun had began to set and people had packed up their things and left, Y/n and Wheezie stayed. Wheezie was on her fourth doughy treat, even though Y/n told her to slow down two treats ago. Towels were wrapped around each of their shoulders as they watched the pretty colors fade in to one another, a mixture of pink, blue and orange array of colors combining to make a cotton candy sky. Wheezie watched as Y/n got up, accepting a phone call from Ward, the only phone call she hadn't silenced since they'd left the car.

In the time she'd left, Wheezie took advantage of it to recognize how appreciative she was of all that Y/n was doing for her. She came in as a tutor and, to Wheezie, was to stay as a friend. As family. Wheezie was more then ecstatic to have someone who would be there to rant and rave about the other Cameron's, someone she could trust with her secrets and the contents of her always running brain. Someone who was just there.

"Hey, your father would like us back in thirty so we should leave in ten." She said coming back and sitting beside Wheezie as she caught sight of her face, the lack of the smile that was there previously concerning her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, really. Just... I really enjoyed today, Y/n. It really lets me know you're not just here for like... like the money or something."

Y/n let out a scoff. "Are you kidding? I enjoy nothing more than watching you freak out over the existence of jellyfish." She joked as Wheezie pushed her to the side with a laugh. Y/n recovered, letting out a content sigh as she tossed an arm over Wheezie's shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Wheezes. Can't wait to record you falling at your next soccer game."

Wheezie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips, leaning into Y/n's embrace as her head rested against her clavicle. "And I'll be looking for you in the stands, Y/n/n."

Y/n and Wheezie had both found out something about the other that night. Wheezie found that she didn't want to be like Sarah and she was glad she wasn't like Rafe. She was content with her own little circle on the dart board but maybe she could take a bit after her newest role model. And Y/n found that she was able to instill several things into the youngers mind including To Kill a Mockingbird, Inca Civilizations, and that she now had a true and present big sister to look up to.

[insomniamamma]

Safe: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: What can I say? I'm hormonal and all my shit hurts and if I cannot get snuggles IRL then I will write something super soft and self-indulgent to make myself feel better. Part of the Prickle AU. Set sometime after Sacellum.

Warnings: Oh no! There's only one bed. Soft!Ezra. Language. Cee's best friend on The Pug is non-binary and also named after my little boy's favorite stuffy. Maybe the slightest bit of angst. But mostly super soft.

         "You did this on purpose."         "Right hand to Kevva, I did not. I asked for double occupancy and they must have misunderstood and--"         "You don't have a right hand,"         "Let's go back to the reception desk," says Ezra, "We may be able to negotiate more appropriate accommodations."         "Errgh," you groan. Reception had been a nightmare, three freighters worth of traffic trying to secure berths all at once. It was a lot of people. Too many for your liking. Cee was staying with Kit and their family. Kit and Cee had practically tackled each other right there on the dock, everyone else forgotten, walked away arm in arm.         "We shove off in three cycles," Ezra hollered at her retreating back, and she flapped a dismissive hand at him. You had to smile. For three cycles Cee gets to be a normal teenager hanging out with her best friend without worrying about points and pulls and overhead costs and fuel margins.         "I don't wanna go back down there," you say, "Too many people. I think twice the population of Falnost was waiting in that fucking line." You brush past him and into the suite. The ceilings are low and slightly curved and it feels strange to be under this much grav. The outer rings of Puggart Bench have something close to terra-normal gravity, but after so much time spent on little moons and worldlets, this much G feels weird and you have no desire to trudge back down to reception.         "You sure?" Asks Ezra.         "Yeah," you drop your day bag and press a hand to the mattress. "Look at the size of this thing. It's, like, five crash-couches wide. This seems above our pay grade."         "They're overbooked," says Ezra, "We're paying the same points for the berth we should have gotten. I made sure of it. I can sleep in that recliner if--"         "No."         "No?"         "Kevva, Ez, we're both adults," you say, "I think we can share a bed for a night without exploding."

        Your suite has a real, honest-to-Goddess shower with a generous 15 minute timer. You scrub as fast as you can and then just let the water hit you, let the pressure pound on your tense back muscles until the chime sounds and the water cuts off. You towel off and dress, soft clothes you sleep in, and pad out into the main room. Ezra is reading, face far off and serious, and you just look at him for a minute, illuminated in the warm lamp-light, absorbed in his book, little furrow between his brows and then he looks up, all knowing smirk and dancing eyes, he's caught you staring.         "Your turn, Ez," You say and turn your face away. Kevva. This man. You've been trying to keep things professional, but it's a losing battle. His flirtations make you flush, but he's never tried to push you, never tried to leverage the fact that it's his name on the ship's title, that you signed a contract, that you are junior-most crew. You feel safe with him. And, from your limited experience in the fringe, that is a miracle in itself.

        Ezra sets his book aside and heads for the bathroom. You peel the sheets from the other side of the bed and settle in. There's a media player bolted to the wall, but you just want quiet. You switch off the lamp on your nightstand (we both have lamps, we both have a nightstand, how weird is that?) The sheets feel deliciously cool against your skin. To be clean and sleeping in clean sheets...if Heaven isn't like this Kevva's got some answering to do.         Ezra sings in the shower. You're barely awake and you smile. Ezra can't carry a tune in a bucket, singing fringeling songs and reels, stories of mercs and pirates and ghosts and you drift off to the sound of him, the sound of the water running.

        He sees you soft and loose and asleep. No rail-gun, no body armor, no thrower under your pillow. Your face slack, snoring slightly. You've kicked out of the blankets and lay curled as if chilled.         "Hey Artichoke," he murmurs, pulls the blankets up and tucks them around you, "Let's get you warm, yeah?"

        Ezra wakes. Bleared red numbers of the clock saying that this is still the deepest ditch of local night. Ezra is warm and confused. He feels you pressed against him, your chest to his back, an arm hooked around his middle, your legs entwined with his. You've sought him out in your sleep and folded yourself around him, your breath slow and steady against his nape. Ezra's eyes prick with tears. He can't remember the last time he's been held like this. He's had lovers. He has payed for sex on the less reputable Benches of the Great Arm, but for someone to hold him? For someone to touch him without payment, without trying to press some advantage, gain some kind of leverage, without priming him for the inevitable backstab?  He is overwhelmed. He tries to wriggle away from you, but your arm just tightens around him.         "...fixed the transponder," you mutter against his neck, "told you we didn't need...told you..." He pats your arm and relaxes against you.         "Okay, Artichoke, okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

        You wake enfolded, Ezra's good arm wrapped around you. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, the slow sussurration of his breath, the snores that catch in his throat and turn to murmurs, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You've tucked yourself against him in your sleep. Your hand rests on his sternum. Oh Kevva. What are you doing? You go rigid.         Your first impulse is to wrestle out of his hold, take one of the blankets and install yourself in the recliner that you wouldn't let Ezra take, but part of you wants to stay right here in the combined warmth of your bodies, feeling his breath, his heart, his calloused palm spread against your shoulder. You shift, making the smallest effort to pull yourself away and his arm tightens further, a low, sleepy chuckle reverberates through his chest.         "Hi Ez,"         "Hi." He strokes the pad of his thumb along the exposed curve of your shoulder.         "I'll get up," you say, even as he shifts and cups the back of your head in his palm, tucking you closer.         "You don't have to," he says, voice rough with sleep. This gesture pricks at your heart. Coming up on Falnost has made you hard, guarded, there has been precious little gentleness in your life, pulling rocks out of the parched ground since you were big enough to lift a shovel. Learned to fight and shoot to chase water-thieves from the homestead. He strokes the back of your head like one might pet a skittish cat and your heart squeezes.         "Ezra?" You hate how small your voice sounds, you hate the uncertainty you hear there, "Are we okay?"         "Of course we are," he says, "Why wouldn't we be?"         "I wrapped around you like a Bueller's world python and I did it in my sleep-"         "The wrapping was mutual-"         "You're not mad or uncomfortable or anything?" He laughs again, gentle huff of breath against the crown of your head.         "Mad about waking with you in my arms? The day I'm mad about that you can just shoot me in the head and send me to Kevva because I will surely have lost my ever-loving mind." You smile against his skin and relax some, your hand unfists and you curl your arm around his soft belly, feel his breath hitch.         "Tickles."         "Sorry." You feel yourself drift, skirting the edge of sleep. He is warm and solid and you let yourself relax against him.         “This feels...safe..." you say, so close to sleep that you're not sure if you've said it aloud or if you've just thought it. And you're not sure if you hear his response or dream it, one word. Always.

        "She's late," says Ezra.         "We still got a sixteenth to button up and board,"         "Still," says Ezra, "Yon freighter will leave with our pod wether we're strapped in it or not." You see Cee and Kit, trailed by Kit's parents, weaving through the crowd. Cee is beaming, her blonde hair has a brilliant streak of blue, and Kit has a matching streak in their hair.         "Hey guys!" Cee hugs Ezra and then hugs you.         "How was your shore leave, Little Bird? I like the fancy hair."         "Isn't that cool? We've got matching streaks," says Cee.         "It's semi-permanent," says Kit, "We'll pick a different color next time!" You have to smile. Cee looks revitalized. Three cycles spent with her friend, just doing normal kid things has been good for her.         "Check this out!" says Cee and pushes a laminated drawing towards the two of you. Ezra makes a show of looking carefully.         "I recognize you and Kit," he says, "I am not familiar with these other people, though."         "They're from The Streamer Girl, dumbass," says Cee, "Here's Clo and Reive and Lily and Auri. See? Kit put us right in the story." Ezra gives Kit his best smile.         “You drew this? You are very talented." Kit smiles big.         "Thanks!" says Kit, "I'll put you guys in the next one! Maybe you could be professors at Bowsun Academy or something."         "I look forward to it," says Ezra.         "Time to go, Cee," you say and Cee and Kit exchange one more enthusiastic hug.         "Later fringeling!" Calls Kit.         "Piss off, stationer!" Cee calls back. Ezra curls his fingers around yours and squeezes. Cee tells you all about her three cycles with Kit, the movies they watched, the Real Food they ate. How Kit's little brother wanted a blue streak in his hair too and Kit's parents said no and how mad he got. I wanna be cool like Kit and Cee.         "I told him he's got plenty of time to be cool," says Cee, "And he told me that I don't understand how the world works. He's like, four." Ezra laughs.         "Wise for his years." Says Ezra. And the three of you fall quiet. You find the pod much as you left it, towed to the Polly Jean and clipped in, transferred by the station's tugs. You settle in and do a full systems check. Calling out the checklists and making sure everything is good for transit.         "What are you guys so happy about?" asks Cee.         "Whatever do you mean?" asks Ezra.         "You been all smiles since I hit the dock," says Cee, "Both of you. Did we score a really good job? Did we win the Puggart Bench lottery or something? What aren't you telling me?"         "That," says Ezra, "Is for us to know and you to endlessly speculate about."         "Hmph," says Cee.

Tagging: @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum , @honestly-shite, @writeforfandoms, @ladyvengeancesposts, @the-blind-assassin-12

[kyberphilosopher]

Dᴏꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴏ Dɪꜱᴄɪᴍᴜꜱ

The reader tries to paint the Colossal Titan from memory, and Bertholdt seems to know more than most people. 

Requested: no.

Word Count: 2092

Docendo Discimus is a Latin proverb meaning "by teaching, we learn." It is perhaps derived from Seneca the Younger, who says in his Letters to Lucilius: Homines dum docent discunt., meaning "Men learn when they teach”.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The human body is home to somewhere between six hundred and eight hundred muscles. There are two hundred and six bones, seventy-eight organs, one hundred thousand miles of veins, and roughly ten pints of blood. Every individual cell has a purpose, important and needed for the body to continue to function. 

Assuming the anatomy of a titan was the same to that of the average person’s, the Colossal Titan should be easier to render than this. You’d sketched the face of muscle and teeth over a hundred times by this point, and each one of them seemed to draw further away from realism than you liked. 

Sure, it was arguable that the Colossal just didn’t have the same anatomy in his face as the average human. But then there should’ve been more factors in his face that shouldn’t have worked. 

For example, the monster didn’t possess a muscle called the orbicularis. You could remember that specifically from the time you and your fellow cadets had gotten a bit too close for comfort. But based on the lack of orbicularis, he shouldn’t have been able to blink. And yet, he had. There was also a strange muscle in his temporal region with horizontal fibers, that couldn’t have simply been his temporal. It doesn't seem to have any particular function, either. 

God damn it. It’s appearance should’ve been the one thing about this bastard to make sense, but instead it had confused you just as much as the rest of it. Never mind how smart you were. If you couldn’t solve this simple turned complex mystery, why hold out hope for studying anatomy when the world would return to normalcy?

In your frustration, you slam the paintbrush back into your cup of water. A stain of red clouds erupts in the liquid at once, angry from how direct the solid hits the surface. In front of you, the canvas shines with the new layer of red paint. Beside it is a coat of salmon, also fresh and lined with the titan’s muscles. 

“So stupid,” you hiss, half to yourself. You grab your cadet corps jacket, shrugging it on swiftly before crossing your arms and stepping back. 

It was supposed to be a gift for Eren. He knew you were something of a painter and had once jokingly asked you to make a dart board for him. The moment you conceived this idea, you knew it had to be a stroke of genius. But you wanted to get it right, and for that, the artist and realist inside of you seemed to be punished for it.

Was it something with the eyes? No, it was definitely the anatomy of the titan overall. “For fucks sake,” you wave off finally, turning on your heel to walk away for a while. But when you turn around, you’re face to chest with one so broad you nearly stumble back. 

The figure tenses up immediately. You tilt your head up to see who it is, recognizing the nervous, kaleidoscope eyes of your comrade. Bertholdt, you’re sure his name is. You haven’t talked too many times, but you’ve seen him in your circle of friends. There’s a memory in your brain of asking your bunkmate, Annie, about why Bertholdt would hang around someone so upstanding and obnoxious as Reiner, but you can’t recall her specific answer. 

“O-oh, Y/N!” Bertholdt nearly wheezes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stand so close.”

“It’s fine,” you mutter, rubbing the side of your head as you step away. “What are you doing here?”

Yes, what was he doing here? A little closeted off room by the girl barracks? And aside from that, how does someone as tall as he even sneak his way inside? It’s suspicious, to say the least. 

“I was just-” Bertholdt stares down at you, sweat already beginning to form on his face. Oh, goddess. How is he to get out of this one? If Reiner was with him, he could just lie his way out of it. But now, looking down at your apathetic, borderline tired, frustrated face, he knows he’s never had much luck with girls. Especially not pretty girls like you. 

His gaze shifts to behind you. There, on a perfectly square parchment of thick paper, is a rough sketch of a long face without any skin. It seems to be all muscle, labeled and detailed. Half the sheet is colored in with pinks, browns, and scarlets, with the other half marked with insane little scribbled patterns that remind him of words. 

You’re still waiting for an answer. He sees your steady, patient eyes and your balled fists by your hips, and Bertholdt wonders if you already know. “I saw you bring in those cans of paint, and I guess I got curious.”

“Oh,” you reply flatly. “Yeah. That.”

“It’s um...” Compliment her. Compliment her painting. “It’s a nice painting. What’s it supposed to be of?”

“The Colossal Titan,” you tell him as you rub the back of your neck. Then you turn on your side so you can view your art, immediately narrowing your eyes in disgust at it. “It’s not my best.”

Bertholdt’s words come out a bit louder than he intended. “Actually, I think it’s really, really great, Y/N!”

You turn back to meet Bertholdt’s nervous, almost quivering eyes. You certainly wouldn’t call yourself an expert on the male gender, but this tall bastard was exactly the stereotype of someone who wasn’t an expert on the female gender. It was almost funny. No, it was almost ironic. 

“I just mean that... it’s really good. It’s easy to see that you have heaps of talent,” the brunette reiterates, seemingly calmer this time.

What a nice thing to say to someone. 

“That’s not really my point though,” you borderline sigh. “The point is that no matter what I seem to do to him, it doesn’t seem realistic does it?”

“What do you mean by that?” Bertholdt questions, his eyebrows furrowing. That’s right, he wouldn’t be able to squint without his orbicularis. Something your art model was currently lacking. 

Do you even bother to explain it to him? It’s not like either of you are close, or like he’d exactly understand what you were saying to him anyway. But where was the harm, really?

You walk back towards the parchment, with Bertholdt just a few steps behind. 

“See this area?” you ask, gesturing to the Colossal Titan’s eye area. “There's a muscle here that’s supposed to let people close their eyes. But the colossal titan doesn’t have that.”

“W-why is that?”

You shrug. “Damned if I know. But doesn’t it look wrong on him?”

Bertholdt observes the painting. He sees all the details, all the time you’ve put into it. While you are right about the image and the titan’s strange features, it’s now that Bertholdt realizes just how intelligent you really are. Unlike other people, you actually knew things. If he were an enemy, he might be starting to feel threatened right about now. Ironic indeed. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” the boy says shyly. “Why does it have to be perfect, though?”

Good question. 

“No real reason,” you tell him, trying to hide the hint of smile. “I guess it’s just how it is. Eren is the one who asked for this.”

“O-oh... you mean like a...”

Your eyes flit back to Bertholdt. “Like a what?”

Bertholdt can feel the sullen wave of anxiety wash over him. He hadn’t meant to let the stray thoughts fall from his lips, but now he can’t take it back. Now what does he say? “I just mean, is it a gift or something like that?”

“Sure.”

Were you and Eren...?

“I might be able to help you with it,” Bertholdt stutters, again, louder than he’d intended. He’s lucky at least one of you is level headed during this interaction. 

“How so? Do you paint?” 

“No, but I think I might know some things about the Colossal that you don’t,” Bertholdt offers. His right arm reaches behind to rub at his sweaty neck. In that instant, you can see that the boy has an almost identical structure to that of your subject. You’d have to note that the tall boy would make a brilliant model for something like this.

“Like what?” you question. “Could you give me some feedback on my piece then?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. You were going to find out. 

Bertholdt pretends to be in deep thought for a minute, knitting his dark eyebrows together. His green, blue eyes sweep over the picture, watching the slick settle. “Well, you’re right about the muscle around the eye. I’d take that out, but maybe place the shadow of it?”

“The shadow?”

“The outline. And maybe make his eyes more glossy than this. Titan’s have a second set of eyelids.”

You don’t have time to question him further. Bertholdt continues the onslaught of information. 

“I think you should also make some of these areas here a bit lighter,” he says, pointing to the side of the Colossal’s face. “From the steam and the high body temperature, it would get a bit smoky.”

“Yeah,” you begin slowly, watching the shine in Bertholdt’s previously nervous eyes. “I hadn’t considered that.”

The lanky male in front of you lets his lips curl into a sheepish smile, closing his eyes as his fingers thread themselves between his hair. “I doubt most people do, so you’re not really in the wrong.”

“How do you know so much?” you ask. “You’ve been quiet with everyone up until now. Do the higher ups even know all this?”

“I mean, they’d have to right? I guess I just took a lot of notes in class.”

You hadn’t remembered your professor mentioning most of these things during your Titan Studies period. But maybe it wasn’t really worth questioning him over. Maybe Bertholdt was just more observant than you had ever really considered. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

Your eyes are fixated on him. Bertholdt was kind of cute, actually. His eyes are both big and slim, with pale green orbs. His skin was always a bit illuminated with a nervous sweat, and he was incredibly mild mannered. But maybe that was actually a good thing compared to all the boys in camp who seemed to lack any conception of manners. Pouty, chapped lips, a gentle smile, messy dark hair. He seems like someone reliable. Kind. Trustworthy.

“Yeah,” you say again, breaking eye contact. “So, are there any other suggestions you have for me?”

Bertholdt is still for a moment, thinking it over. “No, other than don’t think so hard about it, probably.”

“You two sort of have a similar face,” you say, staring at the muscled beast you’d attempted to replicate. “Maybe you should pose for me sometime.”

Bertholdt tenses. 

“I’m only joking,” you assure. Bertholdt’s broad shoulders fall as he relaxes, and a soft exhale leaves from between his lips. “But I would like it if you’d let me model after you.”

“Me?” Bertholdt stutters, shocked. “You mean you’d want to really paint me?”

“‘Course,” you say, nonchalant as always. “You’ve got one of those faces.”

Bertholdt smiles naturally. Soft, but noticeable. You return it after a few seconds, feeling your previous frustration and anger at the piece begin to wander away. 

“I should get back to work,” you say as you turn around. Bertholdt watches you unclip the parchment from your sturdy easel, place it on the stone floor, and grab another paper from a pile. 

“Y-you’re starting again?”

“Of course,” you say. Your dominant hand laces around a piece of charcoal, preparing to drag it across the page. In one swift and scratchy motion, an onyx line appears at the top of the paper. 

Bertholdt’s cheeks dust pink from behind you. He’s about to offer if you want him to pose for you so you can memorize what’s underneath his shy skin, but he stays quiet. Instead, Bertholdt is happy that he even got to speak to you in the first place. He wanders out of the room with butterflies in his stomach, and guilt in his heart. 

And you, with your eyes narrow, basing the monster that ruined your life off the boy who had just helped you. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

I didn’t proof read this. I feel like I’ve just been cranking stuff out lately. someone remind me to go back and edit thank you

[mrstaeminlee]

Mission Complete Ch. 1

You had two goals in life. One: Complete your squad training without dying. Two: Fuck Levi Ackerman

Pairings: Levi/f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, eventual smut, lmk if I need to add anything~

You really had no idea what the fuck prompted you to join the military. Maybe it was to find some redeeming grace in the eyes of your dying mother, maybe it was because you wanted a life with as much stability as one could muster, maybe it was because you just fucking hated farming.

Whatever it was, you wished to any God that would listen that you would have buried it in the ground along with the countless friends and family members you had lost to the Titans.

The first week of the cadet corps was everything you knew you would hate and more. Between the foul smelling breath of the commandant threatening to make you puke up the bread you had managed to steal, to working your body to the point of sneaking away from one on one combat to puke behind the bushes, after seven days you had almost decided that maybe digging in the dirt for the rest of your miserable life wasn't so bad.

There was only one thing stopping you from making your own walk of shame to the wagon of regret.

Levi Ackerman.

AKA the man you fantasized about every night when you managed to find enough strength to finger yourself below the covers.

He was a couple of inches shorter, true, but you were willing to break your rule of not fucking anyone shorter than you for him.

You had only see him twice in your life by complete chance, the first had been when you happened to be by the gates in time to see the Scouts returning from what was undoubtably another failed mission, and you decided that what the hell, might as well have a look at Humanity's Strongest in the flesh. Granted, it hadn't been his best day; his green cloak was splattered with what could only have been the blood of his comrades as it didn't look as if he had a single scratch on him, but he looked like a god, albeit one that had just gotten his ass kicked out of heaven. His eyes seemed to be sunken in, and even from how far away you were you found yourself shivering from the intensity of his dead gaze. You weren't sure what possessed you to lift your hand as he eyes moved through the crowd, looking for whom, you didn't know, or what possessed him to raise those eyes to you, but you found yourself lost in haunted silver as you gave a soft wave. The way he seemed to look straight through you, not even seeing you even as you stared at each other, was enough to convince you that you needed to do whatever it took to see this man again.

You enlisted the start of the next week.

The second time was completely by chance.

Everyone was desperate for military recruits, and desperate times called for desperate calls to important people to make appearances in front of people that were well, not very important.

Erwin Smith, Dot Pixis, Nile Dawk, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe, Rico Brzenska, and even Darius Zackly graced the entrance ceremony of the new Cadets, and you thanked whatever bone in your body made you a teacher's pet because you had a front row seat to the man that had plagued your thoughts every single day in the past week. His appearance was brief and he didn't speak, just stared at the fresh faces, some cocky, some blank, but mostly terrified new recruits, and you could have sworn that you saw a tinge of sadness hidden in the silver, as if he could already foresee the deaths of everyone in front of him. He followed after Erwin immediately after the blond gave his speech about thanking you all for making the decision to serve humanity and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. 'I'm not doing this for humanity, I'm doing this for dick,' you thought as you signed your life away to this shit camp for the next two years.

How one man who was fucking shorter than you managed to convince you to trade the next 728 days, 14 hours, 37 minutes, and 15 seconds of your life for physical and emotional hell was beyond you, and yet here you were, standing proud and slightly hungover from the pre-graduation celebrating you did with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin the night before. They hadn't initially been your first choice in friends, but Armin was nice to you from the start and once you very quickly learned that flirting with Eren in front of Mikasa was not in your best interest, you had decided that they were alright; especially when Eren's Titan form had been revealed. If anyone was going to have to get close enough to keep an eye on Eren, it would be Captain Levi.

The very man you were thinking of walked on the stage along with Nile Dawk, Dot Pixis, and Erwin Smith as the three took turns giving their pitch. You hadn't made the top 10 but were happy for your friends that were, you were content with your place as 13th. In a class of over 500, you still considered it a win, and if your parents were still alive you knew they'd be proud. As the remaining members of the top 10 who had opted to join the elitest MP's went off to talk to Nile and the other scared fucks ran off to sign themselves to the Garrison regiment, you and around a hundred other members stayed where you were and you licked your lips, forcing your heart rate to calm itself. 'Calm down, you can't work your way up to fucking the strongest man in the world if you die of heart attack before-'

"Listen up you little shits."

Oh my God he was speaking you've never heard his voice before it's so fucking-

"Most of you are going to die. Are you prepared for that?"

Ah, so Humanity's Strongest was a sweet talker.

"Erwin is making me come up here and talk, so we're all going to pretend that I'm saying some meaningful bullshit. But here's the truth: If you aren't strong, you will die, and it will be painful. Imagine the thought of seeing your childhood friend's entrails being slurped up like spaghetti by a Titan, while the entire time he's conscious enough to reach his hand out for you, and you are able to do nothing for him because you spent exactly one second hesitating, or you were a moment too late to draw your blades, or react to the threat. If that scares you, then do us all a favor and put down that half assed salute and sell your soul to the Garrison where you'll spend your days fucking the best whores for a discount if you're in uniform and getting drunk on the clock."

After his touching speech you and your now dripping panties decided that you had indeed made the right decision in selling yourself to the Scouts.

One month later

It was moments like these, where you weren't quite trashed but definitely more than tipsy, that you had never been happier to be part of the survey corps. I mean, you were in peak physical shape (you still couldn't believe you had abs. Abs!), you were hot, you were fit, and you knew Sasha Braus, who had managed to steal a few bottles of top shelf liquor from the higher ups.

You were also horny as fuck. It had been over a year since you'd gotten laid, and you were using the dildo you'd bought on your first trip back into town as often as you brushed your teeth (twice a day, you didn't fuck with cavities). You briefly thought about enlisting the help of one of your current drinking buddies but after seeing your choices you decided to leave it to old faithful hidden in your pillowcase. There was Jean, who albeit was pretty hot even with the long face but was so in love with Mikasa it made you want to vomit. Marco, who you were almost one hundred percent sure was gay; Connie, who held the sexual appeal of a pile of horse shit, although he was super nice. Reiner almost looked promising but you knew underneath those stocky muscles was a shitload of emotional baggage you didn't want, and Bertholt was head over heels for Annie of all people. That left Armin and Eren. Eren you already knew was out, while your slut senses told you he'd be a great lay, you weren't quite ready for your life to end at the hands of Mikasa. That left Armin. You tilted your head, staring at him as you sipped on your god forsaken concoction and debated fucking him or not. He wasn't outright sexy, but he'd filled in well during the two years of training and you had seen glimpses of his surprisingly impressive muscles under his white shirt. He might actually do. He'd be shy as hell and you would have to lead everything, not to mention he'd probably cum in less than a minute, but it just might-

“Did you guys know that Captain Levi is a virgin?"

You spit the mix of vodka, rum, and whatever mixer Reiner had put in all over the face of the person you had just considered fucking.

"I'm sorry, what?" You turned your attention to Christa, apologetically handing Armin a napkin and patting his cheek.

Christa blushed at the attention and scooted closer to Ymir, who threw an arm around her shoulders and gave Reiner her customary 'If you even look at her weird, I will gut you' look. "W-Well, recently I started helping out in the infirmary because they've been short handed. You all know, it's that time of year where everyone has to get looked at and they give us that sheet of paper to fill out with all of our personal information to keep track of potential diseases. I was in charge of filing the paperwork the day they brought all of the officers in, and on the paper they ask you how many sexual partners you've had and Captain Levi wrote 0. But you guys, you have to promise not to tell anyone! This is private information, if it somehow gets out that I told you this I'll get into a lot of trouble!"

Ymir chuckled, placing a sloppy kiss at the top of the blonde's head. "Don't worry about a thing sweet cheeks, if any of these miscreants here says a word I'll kill them for ya. But we don't have to worry about that at all, now do we?" She glared at each person in the room, who all looked as if Christa were a ghost, and slowly shook their heads.

Your life was changed.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

The strongest man in the world.

Rumored former thug of the Underground.

The person responsible for killing as many Titans as a hundred soldiers.

The person whose squad every scout dreamed of being on, was a virgin.

You screeched out a laugh before you could help it, the alcohol doing nothing to try and make you quiet yourself as you fell onto your back laughing, cup long forgotten as it rolled across the floor. The person who initiated your drive to join the military in the first place, the person you literally dreamed of fucking, had never gotten his dick wet.

Clearly, you had your work cut out for you.

If you managed to live through the sight of Ymir reaching over to punch you in the face to shut you up.

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.13)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Thirteen) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 3,575 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death

Part Twelve || Part Fourteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

A branch snapped out in the woods and you turned quickly towards the noise. It was dark outside still, the sun just starting to rise. You had been unable to sleep since 3:30am and instead of tossing and turning that could wake Yua up, you had come out onto the upper balcony with a book and a blanket.

The only sound you heard now was your heart pounding in your ears, worried that you were going to see a shadow step out from behind the trees in the shape of Steve’s broad shoulders.

But the woods were quiet, no looming figures. Slowly, you relaxed, the tension leaving your muscles. You could not see anything, so you nestled back down, opening the book again. After a few minutes, the sound was forgotten, and you were immersed in your book.

When you finally came back inside, Yua was up by then. You walked quietly by Natalie’s still sleeping form and made your way down the stairs carefully. Yua was already at the sink making herself some coffee. She eyed you as you walked into the kitchen.

“God, look how big you are,” Yua said groggily, eyeing your stomach.

“Good morning to you too. And yes, I can feel it,” you jested. “26 weeks.”

She laughed, “I mean honestly. Since this all started out… it’s like you swallowed a volleyball. It just hits me sometimes, still catches me off guard.”

“Soon to be a basketball, I’m sure.”

“Or bigger.”

“Probably bigger,” you admitted, grabbing a glass to get yourself some water.

“Well, you’re not that size yet. So, where is my breakfast? Cause you look like you’ve been up for a while. Why isn’t it ready?” Yua joked.

Yawning, you said, “Well, ma’am, I was actually going to go back to bed after I got something to drink. I’ve been up since 3:30. I couldn’t sleep. And now it’s catching all up to me. But if you would like, I could make you eggs.”

She waved you off, “I was just kidding. Go back to sleep. It’s still early enough! Do you want me to put a plate of food in the fridge for you for whenever you do wake up?”

“That would be nice,” you said before taking a large gulp of the water. You placed the half empty water glass back on the counter and said, “I’ll have that later too. Don’t want to drink too much at one time. The babies have declared a competition on who can kick my bladder the hardest.”

<><><>

Back in New York, Clint looked way too proud of himself as he strode into the room, but it caught Steve’s attention because that could mean only one thing. And that thing was going to bode well for him.

He was halfway out of his seat as Clint approached, a wide grin tearing at the sides of his mouth.

“I think I got it,” he said, throwing the few pictures he had printed out upstairs on the desk in front of Steve. Steve sat back down, pulling the photos towards him eagerly. “I saw that one of Natalie’s cousins had some photos up in the woods. I couldn’t get a location on them because I wasn’t friends with him. So, I got Shuri to make up a hack for me to gain access to an account. I chose one of the aunts, disguising it as a money scheme – she fell for it, clicked on the link. I was able to gain access to her account and was able to access more of the photos on his page. He’s got a cabin in New Hampshire.”

Steve was looking at the photos of the family outside their cabin.

“If she isn’t on the trains,” Clint said, excitedly. “Where are we now with the cameras? The west coast? We should have seen her by now if she was on the Amtrak.” He pointed eagerly at the pictures and said, “This might be it. It wouldn’t cost them anything to stay in and it’s probably secluded. It’s not too far but it’s far enough out of state.”

<><><>

Wanda was leaning back on the couch, flipping through a magazine. She had been watching the cameras for most of the early morning, but Tony had arrived around 6:30am, wanting to try different locations so she got up and left, giving him the space he needed.

The phone on the desk rang nearby, drawing her attention instantly, and she sat up, craning her neck to look at it. The phone was the number they had given out on the ads to call if anyone had any information on Y/N’s whereabouts. Tony’s gaze was locked on it too and before he could react, she was there, picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m calling about the missing persons ad.”

Wanda’s breath caught for a moment before she breathed, “Yes?”

“For Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yes,” Wanda said more impatiently.

“Saw a woman like the photo at one of the cabins up here as I was on a walk real early this morning, right as the sun was coming up. She was sitting on the porch, very pregnant. I didn’t get a great look at her, didn’t want to gawk, you know. Plus, I think I was on their property, so I was probably trespassing, but I was following a doe—”

“Where was it at?” Wanda asked, cutting him off in the politest voice she could muster.

<><><>

“Steve!” Wanda called, taking the stairs by two. Steve called from the community room and she walked briskly, practically breaking into a jog. When she entered the room, she saw Clint, Sam, and him were looking at some photos on the table. Tearing her attention away from that, she said in a rush, “We maybe got something. A man named Will called about it, saying he thinks he saw Y/N.”

“In New Hampshire?”

“Y-Yes?” Wanda said completely confused at how he knew that.

Clint looked beside himself and Steve demanded, “Where at? Did you get a location?”

Wanda told him the address and Steve pulled his phone out, typing it into the maps app. He slammed his hand down on the desk in triumph, standing quickly. He thrust the phone into Clint’s hands. Sam was trying to peer over Clint’s shoulders to get a look too.

“That’s the same damn cabin,” Steve exclaimed, hardly able to contain his excitement. Wanda took notice of the pictures now, leaning over the table to look at them herself.

“Are we going now?” Sam asked just as Steve breezed past him. His eyes swept to Clint and said, “I guess so then.”

“Ha, teamwork,” Clint smiled, squeezing Wanda on the shoulder encouragingly as he walked by, rushing to follow Steve.

<><><>

The team was quick in their assemble upon arrival, Bucky and Natasha having to travel to get there which set Steve on edge because he had been ready immediately in his black suit, anxiousness coursing through him. He was pacing in front of the facility, having a hard time containing the hope blooming. His eyes were set on the tree line, wanting to just get into the car and drive to the address, scoop Y/N up and bring her back home.

He was not going to make the same mistakes he had that had let her slip through his fingers. If he could help it, she would never step foot off that property without him again. He would make sure she learned that lesson as soon as he got her home.

Tony met him at the edge of the entrance patio, not suited up. He was staying behind to monitor from there and he surprised Steve with a small drone, holding it out to him.

“You should not go in there guns blazing before you get sights on her or something to be absolutely sure. Use this. You don’t need to be barging into some random pregnant person’s cabin. Not a good look, not good press. Especially since you’ve got it out there now that you are looking for her. This drone is quiet, but it’s not silent so don’t fly too close or they’ll hear it and it’ll blow your whole covert cover.”

“You mean hovering above the place in a plane isn’t going to do that?”

“You’re not taking a plane, jackass,” Tony retorted, and Steve smirked in response. “Park down the road. You can go in on foot.” Steve thanked him, taking the drone. Tony ran his eyes up and down Steve and asked, “Was it really necessary to get up in the suit?”

“Can’t exactly show up in slacks. Just in case things get squirrelly,” Steve responded.

“’Squirrelly’,” Tony chortled. “Y/N will hardly be able to run.” Steve’s only response to that with a slight smile of acknowledgement. Tony stepped closer and said, “I got something else too. Of course, they say it doesn’t exist because the general public already has an issue with frothing at the mouth with conspiracy theories of the government tracking them. People honestly suffer from grandiosity in this country.” He noticed the impatient look on Steve’s face and apologized, “Sorry. Soap box. How do you feel about a GPS chip?” Steve’s eyes widened in surprise and Tony back tracked quickly. “Right. We can talk about that when she gets back home, safe and sound. I’ve just wanted to try out the new model and she seems like the perfect candidate, perfect circumstance. We’ll chat when you’re back. Don’t forget.”

Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder before walking back towards the door to the elevator.

<><><>

The trip up north was taking longer than Steve wanted it to, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh as he watched the trees go by. The thought that Y/N would somehow get tipped off and bolt before he got there was eating away at him. He was watching his phone anxiously, seeing them get closer and closer to where the cabin should be.

When Clint pulled off on the highway at what should be the end of the road that would lead to the cabin, Steve threw the door open and stepped outside. He was ready to let the drone go, flying it towards the direction of where the cabin was in a matter of a few moments, the only pause in the effort being from the drone having to start up. Steve was watching the viewing screen of the drone with intensity as it hovered over the trees, keeping an eye peeled as he followed the gravel road. The rest of the team was waiting around the SUV. Bucky leaned against the side, tapping his foot, trying to expel some of the pent-up adrenaline that everyone was garnering, knowing this needed to be executed without injury or incident.

The cabin was there at the end and Steve leaned forward in anticipation seeing the car.

“That looks like the car model,” Tony said over his earpiece. He was able to access the drone’s camera was well back at the facility. “Zoom in a bit to the license plate.” Steve did as he asked and Tony breathed, “Bingo.”

“Alright,” Steve said far more calmly than he felt. “That’s good enough for me.” He walked back towards the open back door of the SUV, walking up and placing the screen just inside. “The cabin is about half a mile away. Clint, stay here with the car and be ready to come up when we are ready to go. I don’t want Y/N to have to walk back down the driveway. Nat, Sam… you’re with me at the front. Buck, take the back of the cabin. Don’t shoot anyone unless I tell you to.”

“Taking the fun out of things,” Bucky halfheartedly joked.

<><><>

Stretching out on the bed, your toes curled. A sigh of contentment left your lips as your eyes opened, blinking away your sleep. When your vision focused, you saw the clock said it was almost 11:00am. You had managed to fall back asleep around 7:00am and you felt better now that you had gotten some more sleep. You could barely detect Yua and Natalie speaking in low tones, more than likely trying to avoid waking you up.

The serenity was shattered at the loud bang from on the first floor and you heard Yua scream in alarm. You sat up with difficulty just as the door from the balcony burst open. You jolted to the side, holding your stomach protectively.

Your heart rate slowed only for a moment upon recognizing the man who burst in was Bucky. When his cerulean eyes landed on you, gun pointed in your direction, your heart rate blew past normal, your breath quick.

“Bucky?” you got out in a gasp.

He relaxed ever so slightly, his eyes softening at the sight of you. His gun was no longer pointed at you, hanging at his side now. You did not miss the uptick of his lips, satisfaction flooding his face. But he still stayed on alert, ready to raise his weapon again if needed.

You sat up straight slowly, despite the commotion downstairs, keeping eye contact with him. Getting to your feet you tried to drown out the sounds of shouting downstairs, focusing only on him. His eyes flicked to your stomach, causing your hands to clench tighter around it and he made eye contact with you again.

“You can let me leave,” you said to him, your voice shaking.

Bucky’s laugh was humorless. “Y/N. Sweetheart, c’mon.” He was chastising you for even suggesting it with that tone.

“Buck?”

The sound of his voice rolling up the stairs made you freeze to the spot.

“I’ve got your doll in my scope. She looks good, Steve,” Bucky called back down towards the ground floor.

The sound of his foot on the bottom stair made you flinch. His footfalls were heavy, each step putting another nail in the coffin of your freedom. Your eyes flicked towards the open door and Bucky gave you a disappointed look, taking a step back towards it. He shook his head and you tore your eyes away from him, eyes fixated on the stairs.

He came into view quick, his height surpassing the staircase railing long before Yua or Natalie’s would. The same time elation flew through his features upon seeing you, you felt dread course through your veins. He was geared up, like he was going into a fight. Apparently, he did not underestimate the three of you.

Steve was a foot from you now, his gaze piercing and you were too afraid to take your eyes off him. There were a few moments of silence before he said quietly, “I admit, you have some loyal friends down there. They remind me of Buck.” You said nothing and he asked harshly now, “What did you think this was going to accomplish though, really, Y/N?”

You sucked in your bottom lip, unable to form a sentence in your frightened state about what he was there to do besides take you back.

“Answer me.”

Stammering, you said, “I… I just…” You were embarrassed he was shaking you up so bad. You had been in such a haze, hoping beyond reason that the three of you would eventually be able to settle down and it would blow over. The longer you had stayed away, the more the doubt it could work had been overshadowed by that terrible misleading feeling of hope.

Steve’s expression softened seeing you tripping over your words. He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back. His lips formed into a thin line, stopping his advancement. “Y/N, doll, please. I want what is best for you. All I want is to take care of you. You worried me, doll. You worried me a lot. Do you know what it felt like to not know where you were? If you were safe? If the children were safe? Can you imagine how utterly upset you made me? How betrayed I felt when I realized you were gone? I leave to let you have a party with your friends, to give you space with them.” You almost flinched at the phrasing, like he had taken the words right out of your mouth. If he noticed, he did not show it. He continued on, “I leave a gift behind for you to find, something I built for you and the babies, and how do you repay me? You left. Without a word. Like I didn’t matter. Did you even see the gift?”

“No,” you whispered.

“Of course you didn’t. You didn’t care enough to look. You were only concerned with yourself. Out of everyone in the world, I didn’t think it would be you that would betray me like this. You told me you loved me.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes glistened with tears. He sounded deeply hurt, wounded. You could see it in his eyes.

“I can forgive you, Y/N. Trusting you is something else entirely. I don’t think that’s an option right now. But… I can forgive you. You just have to come back and be good.”

You averted your gaze, your chest tightening at his order.

Steve closed the space between you, and you did not move away this time. He hooked his fingers underneath your chin, tipping your head up. “It’s me…” Steve told you as his eyes hardened, and he warned gravely, “Or nobody.”

You did not have to imagine all the guns pointed at your friends downstairs. You either left with them both dead and back with Steve. Or left with them both alive and with Steve. Either way, he had you enveloped back to him. The degree of guilt is what you were choosing, that’s what he was giving you.

You were taking too long to answer.

Steve looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Bucky. Bucky started walking towards the staircase where he could look down on the living room.

“Steve, don’t—” you choked out.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Good.”

You let out a strangled noise before you got out in between tears, “I won’t ever try to leave you again, I swear. I’ll stay home for you. I’ll take care of the twins. I’ll do what you ask, I’ll listen, like I promised. I’ll be happy.”

“Were you ever?” He asked coldly.

“I w-was,” you said shakily, nodding. Nodding to convince yourself, remind yourself that you had been. “I was, really.”

“And what changed that, hmm?”

“You… you locked me away in the house.”

His lips twitched at the accusation and you feared you had made a misstep, fearing for Yua and Natalie. He did not make a move though except to say, “And why did I do that?”

He wanted you to say what he believed. He wanted you to believe it too. The tears were fat rolling down your cheeks as you whispered, “Because… you wanted to keep me safe.”

“That’s right, doll,” Steve breathed easier, smiling. His fingers caressed your face. “That’s exactly what I was doing. And you pulling this little stunt proved my gut instinct was right, didn’t it? You need protection, especially from yourself. You are impulsive and don’t think about the long-term repercussions of your actions.” His hand came to rest on your abdomen, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, doll. I want you to just come home and let me take care of you. That’s what’s going to happen. Right?”

“Yes,” a voice that sounded like yours said; it was like you were outside your body. “Yes, I want that.”

“That’s what I thought,” Steve said, leaning forward and giving you a long kiss on your forehead.

“My friends?” you choked out.

Steve pulled away from you and smirked at you. “Hmm, maybe you can be concerned with more than yourself. Maybe I was too harsh there for a moment… what about your friends?”

“Please don’t hurt them. Please let them leave and go back home unharmed.”

He exhaled heavily and asked seriously, “And why should I do that?”

“Bucky would help you if you asked.” Bucky turned his head towards the pair of you and you tried to pretend like you did not notice his gaze. “It’s not their fault. I asked for help. It’s my fault. They shouldn’t be punished for my mistake. Please don’t make them pay for my behavior.”

Steve looked contemplative and you waited with bated breath, hoping he would react positively to your display of holding yourself liable. He wanted you to beg and you were giving it to him.

Over his shoulder, he finally ordered, “Let the ladies grab their things and get out of here. They’re safe… as long as Y/N continues to behave.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by pressing a button on his earpiece. “Barton, we’re ready. Come on up.”

He grasped your arm and you tried to yank your arm away from him. He was far too strong and jolted you to him. “Don’t go messing this up now, Y/N. You were doing so well. Don’t make this harder for me than it has to be to get you in the damn car. You got what you wanted with your friends; you just need to uphold your side of the bargain.”

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog @mrsnegan25 @coconutqueen21

[etherealvoidechoes]

This was fun! High Priest/Hybrid!Zhang studying and brooding over his new mutations and somewhat with his extended marks and new mark on his chest after Magistar has finished up another inking session for said marks.

And I may be rocking his face as a new icon sometime soon.

Story blub for the image below ~

-----

“I... I...” Magistar paused his wavering voice. He “eyed” Zhang’s new mutations as he was gathering his tools used to help cover his marks. With his psionic sight, he could see the changes underneath Zhang’s skin. Rearranged bones, new bones, and rearranged and new muscles. It was interesting to study how everything came together. “I’m not sure how we will explain this to Brother Dhay-Vol and Elder Ga’rox. I’ve already sent a message to Dr. Forrest and her team so we can do a scan and see if anything else has changed with the Prismalux DNA within you, Jiahao.”

His vision then shifted to the newest mark on his Brother’s chest. The hand print that contained a nebula within. “And for the mark on your chest... I think another session is needed for you to suppress it. I will bring more potent inks and medicines tomorrow morning. Thankfully, Dhay-Vol’s sortie will last a few more days... as long as he doesn’t get himself killed.”

Zhang nodded to him. How lucky they were that Dhay-Vol wasn’t there. Last thing they needed was him finding out about all of this.

He then carefully studied his newest mutations after Magistar finished applying the inks to help mask his newest marks from his encounter with Ea’Njall. His fingers twitched in his right hand; a line appeared between his pointer finger and middle finger and continued to grow as the two pulled apart revealing a “clean slice” between the two fingers. The strange and new plating that lined the top side of his forearm creaked and cracked open like tree bark snapping. He winced as he felt the flesh underneath slowly tear open and winced more as he felt something within move, brushing against the remolded muscles within the arm. As the platting continued to open, he felt that new bone around his wrist rotate forward and caught small glints of light bounces off something within.

“Bone blade...” Zhang muttered under his breath as he watched the new appendage come out of his arm. His fingers twitched as the the bone stopped once it was nearly out of his arm. He just looked at it, activating his psionics to  study everything underneath the skin like Magistar had shown him when he first came. Alien anatomy. He was becoming less human again. He hated that. This latest change almost made him forget about the lightning marks on his back creeping to the front and the newest one on his chest.

“Why...?” What was the Weaver’s game? Why curse him with these changes? Didn’t he say he could fix him? Zhang shook his head. Really, he only had himself to blame. His emotions got the best of him as he listened to that being talk about his past and how his friends were still safe. He just had to know if his friends were okay. If his adopted children were okay. If... if Mia was okay. He couldn’t just believe the Weaver’s words alone. Even if he had saved his life twice with no strings attached.

“Mia...” His mind flashed back to seeing her after Ea’Njall had touched his chest. Back at the old Asian branch. The Situation Room. Seeing her crying her heart out — her brother barely even able to console her as he was crying too — as they were still searching for him after all the years that had passed since his cover was blown. And it was his birthday to boot. He couldn’t imagine the guilt she felt from that fateful night when she learned the truth.

His left hand, a trembling hand, went to the mark on his chest and gently touched it. The accidental pact he struck. Somehow it contained a nebula within. He could still feel the Weaver’s power coursing through his body. It felt strangely... comforting. But he knew there was a fathomless darkness within all that light. His nails dug into the mark, drawing forth red blood tinted with orange.

“Mia... Why?” He sniffled as the corners of his lips trembled. Why did that projection have to end so soon? He just wanted to hug her and her brother longer. He just wanted to apologize to the both of them, but especially her. How long had she been mourning for him before and after going undercover? It had to be hell for her and so many others he became a father figure too. He wondered if he could ever forgive himself for making that life changing decision.

“I… I had to know after everything that happened that night.” He mumbled to himself, something he said to Magistar earlier as the man works on the chest mark. Trying his best to hold back tears forming in his eyes, hit bit his lip, drawing blood. His lips continued to quiver and soon his hands trembled as he tried to keep it together. Keep a maelstrom of emotions in check. But the tears began to stream down his face no matter how hard he tried to keep them back. “I had to know!”

The man let out a great wail, causing the psionic fire in the sconces lining the walls to erupt into great flames. That bone blade retracted as he brought both of his hands to his face, clawing at it, and wept.

Magistar set down his tools and went back over to Zhang. He knelled down and pulled his Brother into a hug, barely wincing as he felt Zhang’s hands on his back and then those nails digging in. He let his psionics flow out and intertwine with Zhang’s to help pull away the worst of those emotions. A hiss slipped out as soon as the connection was made as it felt like several Vipers biting his mind and body mixed with a Templar striking at his chest with those psionic blades.

“Love… It is a weakness, but can also be a strength. Let it be your greatest strength.” Magistar softly spoke to him, words he had said before but adding a bit more, as he patted his back. “Don’t forget that... Shaojie.”

[lazywonderlvnd]

*hesitantly steps in the box* Umm.. soo.. I was listening to Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift again and that song (is awesome btw if you haven't listened to it already) just gives me such MAJOR drarry vibes .. like -

" And I screamed, 'for whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?' He looks up grinning like a devil. "

Like if that's not drarry I'd chomp my pillows. So .. *twiddling thumbs* could you pls write something with that line as a prompt?? Pretty please 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️ maybe use the song as inspiration.. idk? Whatever you like. ALSO, don't forget I STILL LOVE YOU that ain't changing yet and you haven't seen the last of me! Imma tail after you for eternity and you better take that as the threat it is! *throws love at you* BYE!! ❤️❤️ *vaults outside the box*

my sweetest most loved angel!! thank u so much for this prompt based on a BOP i was obsessed w when the album first came out. it got sm longer than it was meant to be, so it can be found on ao3 as well!! i hope u like it ilysm ❤️❤️❤️❤️

warnings for minor drug use (weed) and implied suicide of a minor character (lucius, extremely vague reference but pls be aware!)

rating: e word count: ~5k

When Pansy asked him how it started, Draco discovered that he didn’t know what to tell her.

Technically, though, it had started at Ernie Macmillan’s party in the beginning of summer, with the cloying scent of Freesias and Freedom Roses (“Imported from the States,” Ernie told Draco pompously, when he asked) and all those string-lights dangling from the cedar pergola, perennial balls of fire inside their clear bubbles like tiny trapped suns. Cheap beer in plastic cups, Marlboro cigarettes, and some stupid Muggle game ... darts.

Technically.  

* * * 

“Get off me, Potter,” Draco says in a failed whisper. He’s laughing and drunk and fuzzy warm under a sprawling summer’s night sky that looks like black paint. Potter tastes like Guinness every time he kisses him, and his hands are surprisingly soft. In direct opposition to his own command he pulls Potter in by the face and glues their mouths back together ravenously. The alcohol makes him sloppy (he likes it, though — the sloppiness of it) and Potter’s skin is warm where Draco slides his hand under an ugly Muggle band T-shirt to touch. 

Around the corner, he can hear music coming from the patio where nearly every single one of their former classmates are gathered, drinking and laughing and getting along famously with a much-needed buffer of five years between them and their Hogwarts days.

Much-needed for himself and Potter as well. Apparently.

He sees him sometimes, at get-togethers like this or around the Ministry, once or twice at a dinner party thrown by a mutual friend. They’re always cordial. He hasn’t insulted Potter to his face in five years.

Except for tonight, when he couldn’t help himself loudly drawing attention to the similarities between Potter’s hair and one of the shrubs in the garden. But they’re kissing now round the side of the house and because of that he’s quite glad for his slip. And it’s their five-year reunion, so. What would it be without some bickering between the two of them?

Potter presses him into the bricks and snogs him breathless, only he keeps grinning and laughing and ruining everything just when Draco starts losing himself in it.

“Quit laughing,” he scolds him. “You’re the worst, Potter. No etiquette at all.”

“That’s rude,” Potter says. His breath wafts across Draco’s mouth. His eyes are excessively green behind their round frames, which have not changed since their school days. The scar is mostly hidden beneath his wild fringe, save for the very bottom where it slashes neatly through a dark eyebrow and touches his eyelid. “I can’t help it, I’m pissed good and proper.”

His hand moves to Draco’s hip and even through the thickness of the alcohol coating his brain like a muffler he feels that touch clear and ripe as daybreak.

“So  that’s  why you’ve decided to snog me rather than …” He waves a hand vaguely, in lieu of the proper witticism with which he might normally have trounced Potter. “You know. Beat me to a pulp.”

“I only did that one time,” Potter says, grinning. Grinning and moving his thumb in circles on Draco’s hip. “And it was because you were being a twat. And I didn’t beat you to a pulp. You’re so dramatic.”

“Semantics,” Draco says. “I had a bloody nose.”

“And you deserved it.”

“Now who’s being rude?”

Potter kisses him again.

Guinness and Freesias.

* * * 

“Macmillan’s party,” he told Pansy. “He kissed me.”

“So that’s where you disappeared to.” She looked smug. Her inch-long nails were sharpened to a point and painted a glossy black, and she drummed them against her cheek, the way a cat flicks its tail. “I’m surprised you kept it from me this whole time.”

“Well,” said Draco, lowering his gaze to his glass of wine and watching it flirt dangerously with the lip as he swirled it. His cheeks felt warm, but he wasn’t embarrassed. “We snuck around.”

Right, maybe a little embarrassed. Mostly conflicted.

“Oh?” For a single syllable the laughter underneath was remarkably transparent.

He looked up, eyebrows lifted. “Yes,” he said a little defensively. “For obvious reasons. At first it was just sex. A lot of it, so he usually came here. Apparently Granger and the Weasel are notorious for popping round his place unexpectedly.”

* * *

He feels opened up all over again every time Potter fucks into him, unhurried and so careful. His hand is hot on Draco’s thigh, both of them sticky with sweat and come. This has to be their third round at least, and Draco’s sluggish brain insists it might actually be four.

An open window lets in the late afternoon air, humid and drowsy and perfumed heavily with flowers (a la Macmillan, Draco planted Freesias and Freedom Roses outside his bedroom window and helped them along to full bloom with some careful magic). Potter’s hair is damp with sweat — from exertion and the relentless heat of July — and Draco slides his fingers into it, tangles them and pulls the way he’s learned Potter likes. If he’s honest, he’s harboured a very secret and  very  desperate yearning to touch Potter’s hair since he was quite young. He doesn’t know why.

Well, maybe he knows why.

Potter makes a quiet, whimpered noise that curls Draco’s toes. He speeds up his hips, closing in on his orgasm and putting his face in Draco’s neck even though it’s too fucking hot for it.

“Fuck,” Draco whines. He tries to lift his leg higher, wrap it around Potter’s waist to get that perfect angle, but they’re too slick with sweat and he lets out a frustrated noise when it falls back to the bed. “Potter,” he says helplessly, arching into each thrust and shaking with the effort. This third (fourth?) orgasm is building too slowly, sitting there hard and stubborn and heavy in his gut and refusing to be coaxed to completion. He’s dripping with the effort, muscles quivering. “Please — I need —”

But he seems to have figured it out for himself. He scoots forward, lifting Draco’s arse higher off the bed and bending him nearly in half. The angle helps him go deeper and he’s suddenly nudging Draco’s oversensitive prostate every time he fucks back in.

“Right there,” Draco gasps, tensing as this new angle lights a fire under his elusive orgasm. His cock is leaking but he doesn’t have the strength or energy to get a hand around it. Potter’s grunting with the effort of fucking him, sweat dripping down his temples and making his neck and torso gleam. “Right there, god, right there, please, I’m so close —”

Potter braces himself and redoubles his efforts, and it’s like he’s reached inside Draco and sunk his claws into that building storm in his belly because suddenly it’s ripped right out of him in a colossal wave of euphoria that approaches too much, cock spurting untouched between them  .  Potter keeps moving inside him while he rides it out, and at some point he feels the warm, wet explosion of Potter emptying in him, mumbling incoherent things that include Draco’s name.

They come down together too. Draco is clutching Potter’s arms and trying to catch his breath and Potter is trembling and clutching him back like an anchor in a veritable ocean of sensation. 

It’s like this every time. 

When Potter drops down onto the bed beside him Draco rolls over and kisses him, long and deep and satisfying, and Potter reciprocates with the kind of intensity that is completely unique to him as a person.

“That one was particularly good,” says Potter, and Draco laughs.

When he feels like moving, he knows that Potter will get up and go to Draco’s kitchen and make tea for both of them, and he won’t need to ask what Draco likes, because he remembered after the first time. They’ll drink it naked in bed as the sun sets on another endless summer day and transforms before their eyes into a humid and pungent summer night, in the midst of which they will fuck at least three more times, and Potter will keep smelling like sweat and bergamot and boy, and Draco will keep feeling starved for him.

And they won’t talk about it.

* * *

“And?” Pansy said.

“And what?”

“You said ‘at first,’” she pointed out, and arched a groomed eyebrow. “When did it turn into more than just sex?”

Draco tamped down on a smile, because that would have been more emotion than he cared to show at the moment. To Pansy or to himself.

He swirled his wine again and took a long sip, stalling. He wanted — needed, really — to talk this out with her, but he was becoming aware of an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest which was suggesting to him that he didn’t want to share everything. Not because he was embarrassed, but, well … it was private. It was between him and Harry.

“There was this one night he came over later than he was supposed to because of work,” Draco said. The memory stirred some emotion. He hadn’t thought of it in a while. “He had this bloody huge takeout bag of Thai food.”

 * * *

He sets it down on Draco’s desk, takes out a container, and after toeing off his shoes drops sideways onto Draco’s bed with it and uses chopsticks to shovel in a mouthful of noodles. Draco watches this in awe.

“Want some?” Harry asks once he’s swallowed (small blessings). There’s grease around his mouth. “There’s a million other things in the bag but you have to get it yourself. I’m dead tired.”

Draco thinks of asking what the hell is going on, because they’re supposed to be fucking by now, but something stops him. Harry really does look exhausted but quite content eating his Thai food on Draco’s bed, and he doesn’t have the heart to berate him for it or remind him that they’re fuck buddies, not friends, and that if he’d wanted to eat and lounge about perhaps he should’ve stayed at home.

And the food really does smell good.

He gets up and fishes another container out of the bag that turns out to be some sort of heavenly-smelling marinated beef, which he brings back to the bed. Harry’s rolled onto his back and has the container of noodles balanced on his stomach.

“They thought they found a Horcrux on a raid,” he says. His voice is perfectly casual, but Draco thinks he can see something troubled in his eyes. He has one foot crossed over the other and  it’s bouncing anxiously; he doesn’t think Harry’s aware of doing it. “Wasn’t. Obviously.” 

“But they needed your expert advice to be sure.”

“Yeah.” Harry looks at him, then his food. “Is that the beef?”

“Yes it is.”

“Good?”

“Haven’t tried it yet.”

He opens the container and chooses a piece, but instead of lifting it to his mouth he follows some crazy impulse and hovers it over Harry’s instead.

“Open, Scarhead,” he says. Harry blinks but does it, and Draco drops it in. He smiles, then chews.

“Brilliant.”

* * *

“We ate it instead of fucking. It was the first time I realised something had shifted.”

“And you let it shift?”

The question gave him pause. He didn’t answer right away, mulling it over. It made it sound as if he’d had a choice, and that wasn’t quite right.

“It already had,” he said finally. “It wasn’t a matter of letting it; by the time I noticed, it had already happened. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come over with the food.”

“But you did let it continue,” said Pansy. She wasn’t antagonising him, nor accusing him of anything. She looked amused, but not in a way that was at his expense. Pansy was both a twat and a fiercely good friend, the combination of which meant she would do nothing more or less than hold up a mirror and force you to look at yourself, gruesome as the experience inevitably wound up being. “Even after you realised he had feelings for you.”

Draco swallowed. He’d not heard it said aloud before now.

“Yes,” he said. “It felt good. Knowing he fancied me.”

* * *

Harry’s shameless in his staring.

He stands in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom and watches Draco like he’s been invited to do so. Draco pretends not to notice, stretched out in a tub full of bubbles facing the opposite way. There’s incense burning, and candles. Harry is completely silent, but Draco could feel those eyes on him from across a crowded hall.

They fucked a few hours ago and fell asleep afterwards. Draco pretended not to think about it, but had actually made the conscious decision to let Harry continue sleeping when he woke up and decided he wanted a bath.

When he can’t take it anymore he opens his eyes and tilts his head back and a little to the side, just enough that he gets Potter in his peripherals.

“Well?” he says. 

“Well what?”

“Join me, won’t you?”

Harry snorts. Then there’s a quiver of magic in the air, and a small, utilitarian chair appears out of thin air beside the tub. Harry sits down in it. He’s holding the joint they’d only gotten halfway through earlier. 

He’s in his jeans and nothing else, all limbs and sparse chest hair, and when he crosses a leg over the other one, elbow resting on his knee as he hits the joint, Draco feels a bone-deep attraction to him that’s beyond physical.

“May I?” Draco asks. Harry hands it over and Draco inhales deeply before returning it. The humidity of the room mixes with the smoke and the smell of marijuana, pungent and cloying like the flowers. 

After a length of silence, Draco says, “Will you read me something?”

“Will I what?”

He takes his wand from the floor and Summons a book from the shelf in his room — one of his poetry collections comes sweeping in through the cracked door and into Harry’s lap. Harry sticks the joint between his lips and starts rifling through it with his glasses all fogged up. 

When he starts reading Byron (“I had a dream, which was not all a dream”) Draco smiles and sinks deeper into the hot water and bubbles, letting Harry’s voice lull him into a pleasant stupor. 

 * * *

“So you led him on,” said Pansy. “Because you liked his attention.”

He stared at her, then let his gaze drop to his wine again. Had he?

“It sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Well,” she said, smiling wryly, “I’m only saying it as you’ve told it to me. Maybe if it sounds bad, it is bad. Some things are that simple, darling. Unless there’s more to it.”

“Like what?” he said, not looking at her. There was a touch of pouty defiance in his voice he knew Pansy would detect instantly. He heard her sigh.

“What exactly happened yesterday, Draco? You didn’t give me any context.”

“What context do you need?” he muttered. “He told me he loved me.”

* * *

They’ve finished an entire bottle of wine between them. He’s not drunk, but he’s pleasantly buzzed. Harry’s sprawled on his back, T-shirt rucked up just below his navel so Draco can see the dark trail of hair leading below his jeans. There’s something implicitly erotic about the movement of his chest when he breathes, his hands folded behind his head, one leg stretched the length of the bed and the other bent at the knee.

He opens his eyes suddenly and grins when he sees Draco looking at him. 

“That wine just made me tired,” he says.

“So go to sleep,” says Draco. He takes a last swig, emptying it, and sets the bottle aside on his night table. He stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, yawning widely, thinking perhaps he’ll give into the tempting allure of sleep as well when Harry says, “I told Hermione about us.”

So he’s not sleeping, then. His stomach clenches hard and a completely irrational sense of panic rises in his throat.

“Us?” he says slowly, sitting up straighter. “What ‘us’?”

Harry looks at him upside-down, then rolls over and rises to his knees. He stares at Draco blankly.

“‘What us?’” he repeats.

“Yes,” says Draco. “What ‘us’?”

“Us,” Harry says. His voice is lower than usual. The word is starting to sound weird and lose meaning. “You and me, Draco.”

“‘You and me?’ Harry, there’s no you and me. We’re just fucking. What do you … what do you mean, you told Granger? Told her what?”

Harry looks … well, he looks fucking crushed. And angry. Draco forces himself not to look away.

“I told her I’d been seeing you,” he says quietly. There’s something … not threatening, but close to it, in his voice.

“Sure,” says Draco. “I see you three times a week, sometimes four. I s’pose if you feel the need to fill Granger in on everything you do with every second of your day —”

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry says. “You know what I meant.”

Draco glares at him. He gets off the bed, slightly lightheaded from the wine, horrified by the emotions welling up inside him right behind the panic, and he points at his bedroom door.

“Get out,” he says. 

“Are you serious?”

“Go!” he says loudly, voice rising. “If you’re gonna start turning this into something it definitely is not then get out of my flat, Potter.” As usual the window is open, but it’s the third of September and getting chilly finally and Draco’s Freesias and Freedom Roses started wilting last week. There’s a chilly breeze coming into that room that is utterly barren of the sweet smells of summer he associates with Harry these days. “It’s time we ended this anyway,” he says. “Summer’s over.”

“So?” From his position kneeling on Draco’s bed Harry shouldn’t feel imposing at all, but he does. There’s no sparkle of humour in his eyes, none of the softness Draco’s gotten used to seeing there. He looks like someone who’s realised they’ve been betrayed.

Worse than that. Someone who’s been betrayed and realises they should have seen it coming.

“What the fuck does summer have to do with anything?”

“Ever heard of a summer fling, Potter? We’re not ‘seeing each other’.”

Harry finally gets off the bed. Draco’s stomach clenches again, more painfully this time. He doesn’t feel bad, he tells himself — this is Harry’s fault. His fault for making a big deal out of something easy and fun and, most of all, temporary. For ruining this with feelings. 

 “That’s not what this was,” Harry says. It’s not an argumentative tone; rather, he sounds disappointed. Devastated, and disappointed. And that look of betrayal, like he’s surprised but not …  that  surprised.

That hurts. 

“This was as real as it gets, Draco,” he says matter-of-factly. “You and I don’t have the capability of doing anything as shallow as a fling.”

“Well, Potter,” says Draco, straining to maintain his level voice, “congratulations, because that is the most disgusting, romanticised, Gryffindorian piece of shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah?” He grabs up his wand from the bedside table and stuffs it into his jeans pocket. “Well here’s another: I love you. You complete fucking prick.”

Draco stares after him as he leaves the room, cowed for the moment. He hears Harry take the Floo powder off his mantle, hears the fire start, and then the sound of Potter disappearing. 

And he feels hollow suddenly.

* * *

“And he said it completely out of the blue?” 

Draco set his wine aside. He was suddenly feeling too sick to put anything else in his body.

“Sort of,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. “He was trying to make something out of nothing. He was just making a point, trying to guilt me, I don’t even think he meant it.”

Pansy said nothing for so long that Draco finally looked up. She had an eyebrow raised.

“Do you really believe that?” she said.

Draco didn’t answer right away. He glanced at the bottle of wine on the table and thought about the way it always tasted a little sweeter on Harry’s lips.

“I don’t know,” he said. “No. But it doesn’t change anything. It was a summer thing, not a … a relationship, for crying out loud. Like I’d date Potter.”

“Why not?”

Draco scoffed. “Why not? Pansy, please. He’s a …”

“A …?”

“He’s an idiot! He’s Potter!  He’s …” He couldn’t think of the right word, something bad enough to express the audacity, the gall , for Potter to think even for a second  that they could …

“Draco Malfoy,” said Pansy. She was smirking. “You love him too.”

Had he felt sick before?  Now he was going to be sick.

“I never would’ve imagined it,” she went on, seeming to take pleasure from his outrage and humiliation. The bint. “Look at you, you’re blushing! Oh my god,” she laughed. And then she stopped laughing, and instead the weight of her own words appeared to descend on her. “Oh my god. You do, don’t you? You are arse over tits for Harry Potter —”

He was up and out of his chair before she’d finished the last word, absurdly,  embarrassingly on the verge of tears all of a sudden. 

“Draco —”

“I’m glad this can serve as your entertainment for the week, Pansy,” he said. A tear rolled down his cheek — could he be any more histrionic? — and he brushed it away furiously. 

“Draco, no —”

“Call Blaise, tell him!” he shouted. “You two can have a good laugh over it —”

“Draco  —”

“Poor Draco’s  fucked himself over again, what a stupid wanker!” 

Pansy got up. He slapped her hand away when she reached for him, but she only came at him again and grabbed it this time when he swatted at her, enfolding it in both of hers. He closed his eyes and hiccoughed and two more tears came.

“Darling, will you please listen to me?” she said softly. It sounded eerily like his mother, which only made him feel young and childish. He tugged his arm away and she let him go, but he didn’t move any farther away. “I am  not  laughing at you,” she told him. “Blaise might, but that’s because Blaise has a black hole for a heart, Draco, the only emotion he’s ever felt is disdain.” Against his will, Draco chuckled wetly. Pansy smiled and took his hand again, tentatively. He allowed it. “ I think it’s lovely that you have feelings for him. I don’t understand what’s got you so upset, I mean … I know it’s Potter, but we’re not teenagers anymore, right? Who cares?”

Draco exhaled a long sigh.

“He let my father go to Azkaban,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. He saw comprehension dawning. “How can I be with someone who could’ve saved my father’s life and chose not to, Pansy?”

“No one could have saved your father, Draco,” said Pansy gravely. His throat was tight, swollen. He hated that he was hanging on her words, looking for truth in them,  wanting to hear something that would make this okay. “He would have done the same thing if they’d let him go back to the manor. It’s not your fault or your mum’s or Potter’s.”

“But —”

“But what?” she cut him off sharply. “Draco, please don’t let your father keep controlling your life from the grave! My god, you deserve happiness, don’t you see that? Even if it’s Potter! In fact, I … I think that could be really good.”

“What, being with Potter?”

“Yes, being with Potter,” she said. “Darling, I say this because I love you: you need to grow a pair of bollocks and start taking control of your own life. I’m not finished!” she added when he opened his mouth to retort. “I understand that it feels like a betrayal of your father, I do, and I’m not saying you can’t have your cherished memories of him, but Draco … you cannot live your life in his shadow, doing things because it’s what he’d want or wouldn’t want. I think that choosing to explore these feelings you have for Potter is the bravest and healthiest thing you could possibly do for yourself.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes wet though the tears had stopped falling. 

“What if it doesn’t last?” he said finally. “What if next week he realises it was a huge mistake?”

“First of all, I doubt that,” said Pansy with a roll of her eyes that was clearly meant to be teasing. “You said you’ve been seeing him all summer, that’s plenty of time to have gotten sick of you. And, even if that did happen, I still think it would be entirely worth that week of being disgustingly in love.”

“Do you?” he drawled.

“Yes! I do!” She picked up his discarded wine glass from before and held it up. “Does the effect of alcohol last forever?”

“No …”

“Of course not! And we don’t expect it to. We expect to have fun while we’re drunk and it’ll last as long as it lasts.”

“Dating someone isn’t like being drunk, Pansy,” Draco said sourly.

“Oh, that’s not the point ,” she huffed. “We don’t do things because we know they’ll last forever, we do them because we want to. In the moment.”

“Sounds irresponsible.”

“Well, of course it is,” she scoffed. “Love is completely irresponsible, that’s the fun of it, Draco. Now take this,” she shoved the glass of wine into his hand, almost spilling it. “Drink up, and then get your arse over to his flat and fix this.”

* * *

Granger opened the door. Draco sighed.

“Hello, Granger,” he said lamely. Her raised eyebrows said she was surprised and thoroughly unimpressed by his appearance.

“Malfoy,” she said.

“Is Potter in?”

“I guess that depends.”

“On?”

She looked at him, dark brown eyes impenetrable. Then she closed the front door behind her.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk to him,” he said tightly. As if this whole thing wasn’t bad enough, now he had to pass a test to get past Granger the bridge troll. “I thought he told you —”

“He did,” she said flatly. “And about yesterday.”

“Well I’m here to apologise,” said Draco. Granger’s eyebrows lifted again. Still unimpressed. “And to tell him …” He sighed again and broke eye contact, willing himself not to give up, not to take this as a sign he should just go home and ream into Pansy for giving him such bad advice.

“Malfoy.” He looked up. Her voice was softer now, and her eyes seemed a little less hard. “What are you doing? You really hurt him, you know.”

“I know,” he said stiffly. “I said I’m here to apologise.”

“Well he doesn’t need an apology,” she said. “If you’re only going to let him down again —”

“I’m not.” He rubbed his forehead and looked at her again, exasperated, defeated. “I’ve … had some sense talked into me.”

She looked like it was the last thing she’d been expecting. 

“Have you?”

“Yes,” he said. “So would you please get him for me before I lose my nerve?”

It was the right thing to say. Her expression melted into something much softer and he fancied he even saw the beginnings of a smile.

“Can I ask who affected this change of heart?”

“Pansy,” he said. And, when Granger seemed taken aback, “She’s very wise when she feels like it.”

“I see. Well …” She still looked a bit conflicted, eyeing him and then putting her hand on the doorknob. “All right. I’ll tell him you’re here, anyway, but he was really hurt, Malfoy. I don’t know if he’ll want to hear it.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said.

Granger eyed him another moment and then went back inside, shutting the door behind her. Draco only had to wait a minute before it was opening again, and this time Harry came out. The sight of him made Draco’s heart feel tender and sore.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, Potter.”

He waited to see if Harry would say anything else but he didn’t. He only stared at Draco expectantly, arms folded, in all ways closed off.

“I came to apologise,” said Draco.

“Well you can keep it,” said Harry. “I don’t need an apology because you told me the truth.”

“It wasn’t the truth, Potter,” Draco said quietly. “Opposite, really.”

Harry was silent. Then, “You made me feel like shit, Draco.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You freaked me out, springing it on me like that.”

A beat, then two, and then suddenly Harry was dropping his arms and sighing and he looked at Draco with so much vulnerability he nearly had to turn away from it.

“I didn’t mean to tell you …” He licked his lips, scratched his arm. It reminded Draco that beneath everything, Harry was still the same awkward dorky leader-of-the-losers he’d always been, just with a bit more confidence now and the title of Official Saviour of the Wizarding World. “I wouldn’t have said that if … I was just angry.”

He didn’t need to ask what Harry was referring to.

“I know.”

“Not that I didn’t … I mean, I … I do —”

“Please don’t say it again,” Draco said. Harry laughed.

“Right. I just meant … I really do have feelings for you, Draco. Like … mad, crazy feelings, y’know? I don’t want it to be a fling.”

“It wasn’t a fling,” he said. He moved a little closer and Harry watched him carefully, eyes flickering once down to Draco’s mouth. “I didn’t even sleep with anyone else the whole time.”

“Well that’s good to know,” said Harry sardonically. But he was smiling, so Draco found himself smiling tentatively as well.

“I wanna be with you, Potter. Properly. I thought …” But he shakes his head, deciding that now isn’t the time to explain about his father. “I thought it was a stupid idea. Now I realise that it probably is, but that I don’t really care much. I’ve decided to ignore my better judgment this one time.”

“That’s quite Gryffindor of you,” Harry commented drily.

“Yes, well.”

“So I go against your better judgment, then?”

“Potter,” Draco sighed. “Please, I don’t mean it like —”

“I’m taking the piss, Draco,” Harry cut him off. He reached for Draco’s waist and pulled him close, and before Draco could get his breath back from a short, surprised intake of breath Harry’s mouth was on his, warm and familiar and soothing. He brought his hands to Harry’s face and kissed back without bothering to hide his overwhelming relief.

Harry chased his mouth when he pulled away and Draco breathed out a laugh, holding him at bay with a hand on his chest. 

“We have plenty of time,” he said. “D’you wanna come over later tonight, after your friends leave?”

“What? No, come in.” He took Draco’s hand and gestured with his head towards the door. “Please. It’s just Ron and Hermione. They know everything.”

“Really?” Draco drawled. “And you think Weasley won’t try to kill me?”

“I promise not to let him,” Harry grinned. “Please, Draco. You said you wanted to do this properly, right?”

He thought of what Pansy said about being irresponsible, and decided it was worth a try at least.

“Okay,” he said. Harry beamed and tugged him inside.

Towards his ultimate downfall or towards the beginning of the rest of his life, he didn’t know. That, as Pansy would have said, was the fun of it.