#it might come up. still deciding. but when it gets to the point in the story where this would happen i will talk about it

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 max verstappen x fem! girlfriend! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . Max Verstappen has a habit of never letting go—literally. Whether it’s galas, lazy days on yachts, or even a quick grocery run, his hand is always in yours ( 1k words )

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

Max Verstappen had always been confident, composed, and annoyingly good at everything he did. But when it came to you? Oh, Max had one tiny quirk that you couldn’t help but notice. He never—ever—let go of your hand.

At first, it was sweet. Cute even. A little handhold in the paddock, fingers brushing together as you walked to the grid. But now? It was everywhere. Grocery shopping? Hand in hand. Movie nights? His fingers laced with yours under the blanket. Brushing your teeth? He'd stand there, holding your hand, toothpaste dribbling down your chin because you were laughing too hard.

Even now, as you sat on the couch, trying to scroll through your phone, Max sat beside you, one hand holding yours tightly while his other absentmindedly flicked through TV channels.

“Max,” you teased, wiggling your fingers in his grip, “you know I’m not going to disappear, right?”

He didn’t even glance up. “I know. But why risk it?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. It wasn’t that you minded—it was just amusing how attached he’d become.

“Do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen?” you asked, attempting to pull your hand free.

“Nope.” His grip tightened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if to say nice try.

“Okay, but I can’t exactly carry snacks and drinks with one hand.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Max—”

He was already up, your hand still in his as he followed you into the kitchen. You made a point of bumping him with the fridge door as you opened it, but his grin was nothing short of smug.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bedtime was another ordeal entirely. Max seemed to think the best way to sleep was to intertwine himself with you like a human pretzel. Tonight was no different.

As you shifted to get comfortable, Max’s hand found yours under the covers. His arm draped lazily over your waist, pulling you closer.

“Max, I’m overheating,” you groaned, trying to wiggle away.

He only hummed in response, his lips brushing your temple. “You’re fine.”

“No, really, I might combust—”

“Shh, I’m comfy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, giving up the fight. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hand in return. “Maybe.”

The next morning, you woke to find Max already up, scrolling through his phone with your hand still in his.

“How do you do that?” you muttered groggily.

“Do what?”

“Never let go, even in your sleep.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Practice.”

You couldn’t even be annoyed—it was too cute. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.”

“Adorable?” he echoed with mock offense. “I’m the reigning world champion, liefje. I’m not adorable.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, tugging on his hand. “But I know the truth.”

And as he grinned down at you, still holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, you decided you wouldn’t have it any other way.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The gala was every bit as glamorous as you’d imagined—long, flowing dresses, sharp tuxedos, and enough champagne to fill a swimming pool. Max, as usual, looked effortlessly handsome in his tailored suit, but his accessory of choice wasn’t the Rolex on his wrist. No, it was you. Specifically, your hand.

He had barely let go of you since you stepped onto the red carpet. Even when you stopped to take photos, Max’s fingers stayed firmly entwined with yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles as if reassuring himself that you were still there.

“Max,” you whispered as you reached your table, smiling politely at the other guests. “You can let go now.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Why? You planning to run away?”

“No, but I might need both hands to eat,” you teased, holding up your clutch in your free hand for emphasis.

He sighed dramatically but let go—only to place his hand on your thigh the second you both sat down. You shot him a look, and he grinned unapologetically.

Throughout the night, Max found creative ways to keep touching you. Whether it was holding your hand during conversations, tucking your arm into his while you walked around, or resting his palm on the small of your back when you stepped away for a drink—he was relentless.

By the time dessert was served, you leaned over to him, your voice low. “You know, you’re setting a high bar for clingy boyfriends everywhere.”

“Good,” he replied, kissing your temple. “They should all know how it’s done.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You weren’t sure who had come up with the brilliant idea to spend the day on a yacht, but it turned out to be the perfect way to beat the heat. The Mediterranean sun was shining, the water was crystal clear, and your group of friends was already laughing and diving into the waves.

Max, of course, had other priorities.

“Come on,” you called over your shoulder as you made your way to the edge of the boat, a grin on your face. “The water’s amazing!”

“Wait,” Max said, reaching for your hand.

“Max,” you laughed, spinning around to face him. “I’m not going to drown. You don’t have to hold my hand for this.”

He looked at you, completely serious. “What if you slip? Or hit your head? Or—”

“Max,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you’re coming in right after me, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Then let go so I can jump!”

Reluctantly, he released your hand, but not without muttering, “Two seconds. I’ll be right behind you.”

True to his word, Max was in the water less than five seconds after you hit it, his strong arms wrapping around you the moment he surfaced.

“See?” you teased, water dripping down your face as you pushed his wet hair back. “I’m fine.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he said, holding you close.

When you both climbed back onto the yacht, Max dried off quickly before grabbing your hand again, guiding you to a sun lounger. You didn’t even bother fighting him anymore.

“You know,” your friend quipped, grinning at the sight of Max’s fingers intertwined with yours, “it’s like he thinks you’re going to float away if he doesn’t hold on.”

Max looked up, completely unbothered. “You’re not wrong.”

You laughed, leaning into him as he kissed your temple again. “Well, at least I’ll never get lost.”

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Lucanis (and also Spite and the Crows) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Emmrich, Neve, Taash to be added tomorrow (or on Monday Jan 5th)

About Lucanis: 

Family and the past:

Lucanis learnt to cook while helping the kitchen staff at the villa when he was a little boy. One of his motivations was learning how to make churros

Side note: Lucanis mentions that cioccolata calda was his favourite drink when he was a baby, and he serves churros to a romanced Rook who picks cioccolata calda as their favourite drink. It’s all coming together! 

Lucanis wanted to be a Crow when he was a child (at least most of the time)  

All of Lucanis's relatives were Crows as well, and all of them were killed by a rival Crow house

Lucanis says Caterina would be proud of Illario hiding his plans well, as well as killing her 

Lucanis says that the hard part about setting Illario free would be convincing Caterina 

Lucanis says that nightlife was more of Illario's thing, and he never got out as much

On Crows and Antiva:

Viago still stares daggers at Lucanis for throwing his (Viago's) pet snake out of the window in a dream

Lucanis doesn't like it when people confuse murder and assassination ("Murderers are hobbyists, we are professionals")

Lucanis has taken contracts in Orlais

Lucanis doesn’t know Treviso as well as he once used to 

Heir didn’t train Lucanis

Lucanis says he has never killed an innocent “by his count” (other people may disagree) 

Lucanis doesn’t think of the Crows as a “big organisation” (unlike the Inquisition) because they stab each other too much

Lucanis became a mage-killer at Caterina’s behest (she wanted to tap into new markets)

The nickname “The Demon of Vyrantium” came from Tevinter news-sheets, though Lucanis thinks Viago started it

Lucanis says that there aren't any special tricks to killing mages. Though, if nothing else works, you can try pissing them off, as that could attract a demon that would eat the mage

Lucanis once killed half a dozen venatori while stuck inside an elevator 

Lucanis doesn’t consider himself a gentleman assassin, manners are less important than getting the job done

Lucanis sometimes spares his targets. He mentioned letting go of a servant who killed her master, as well as a 14-year-old boy. He thinks it’s wrong to kill people so young because they still have time to change

Lucanis doesn’t accept contracts without merit, and the merit is decided by the talon of the house

General:

Lucanis can make bread

Lucanis has never been to Ferelden

Lucanis isn’t interested in killing wyverns, just looking at them :)  

Lucanis has a pet snake 

Lucanis stays awake at night by cleaning his gear, exercising, studying Orlesian and knitting ("it’s just another kind of blade work") 

Lucanis doesn’t understand a lot of things people find attractive

(In a conversation with Harding) Thinking about cooking was one of the things that helped Lucanis stay sane in the Ossuary (the other was thinking about killing his enemies) 

(In a conversation with Davrin) Lucanis survived the Ossuary by shutting down and not thinking about anything except escaping

These two points sort of contradict each other. Either an inconsistency or Lucanis describing his experience differently to different people. 

The Wetlands ruined at least one pair of Lucanis’s boots

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Lucanis offers to pay for any supplies the Shadow Dragons may need 

Lucanis doesn't get a better bed because he's afraid of accidentally falling asleep 

Lucanis can identify the killer’s weapon and the height difference between them and the target just through the blood splatter left at the scene

Lucanis considers Grey Wardens dangerous 

Lucanis doesn’t like necromancy, because bringing people back to life is a waste of hard work

Lucanis finds the ice coffee from Minrathous offensive (Harding describes it as “snow, but made of coffee, sweet, and with cream and toffee sauce on top”)

Lucanis had never been in a romantic relationship before Rook/Neve

Relationships with other companions: 

Lucanis gets into reading Bellara’s serials (very passionately - they chat about it a bunch)

Lucanis is outraged that the Veil Jumpers don’t get paid for their work and offers Bellara his contract negotiator

Lucanis made biscuits for Assan

Lucanis is sceptical that the griffons will be safe with the Wardens

Lucanis think that Assan shouldn’t go soft (referring to the time he took care of a halla) because he is a predator at heart

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Lucanis offers to hold a funeral for Manfred

Lucanis and Harding talk a lot about dreams (mostly silly things like showing up naked for the job, getting chased by someone/something etc.)

Lucanis thinks Harding is deadly with her bow

Lucanis offers to pay Harding for being his lookout/aide at the rate of 6000 gold per contract

Lucanis offers the help of his contract negotiator to Neve after he finds out she doesn't have one

Lucanis made deep-fried peppers for Taash

About Spite: 

Emmrich can hear Spite even when he doesn’t take over Lucanis’s body (at least from a close distance)

Spite is impartial to Emmrich, believing him more than Lucanis

Emmrich says it’s impossible to separate Spite and Lucanis without killing them

Emmrich encourages Lucanis to read to Spite to bring them closer. Lucanis agrees to let Spite pick a book

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Spite asks if he and Lucanis can get rid of their skin too 

(If Manfred is revived at the Necropolis) Spite asks Emmrich to teach him how to use fire magic. Lucanis isn’t thrilled by the idea

Emmrich sets up wards to prevent Spite from leaving the room when Lucanis is asleep

Spite no longer sleepwalks after “Inner Demons” because he apparently understood the concept of space

By the end of the game, Spite has agreed to stop sleepwalking completely

Spite controls the wings (confirmed in banter with Harding) 

Spite wants to try swinging off the astrolabe at the Lighthouse

Spite is very excited about Manfred having hands and feet (Curiosity. Has. Feet!)

Spite finds the wisps in Neve’s room unnerving (as do Lucanis and Neve)

Spite likes to play with whetstones Bellara got for Lucanis (Bellara got them from the Irelin who supposedly got them from somewhere in Arlathan) 

Spite wants to try eating self-lightning candles at Blackthorne Manor

About the Crows: 

Crows frequently visit Nevarra and have received 20 contacts to assassinate the king. The King has been poisoned 7 times

Crows get a lot of contracts for Divine Victoria

Some seers in Rivain are powerful enough that there are contracts on them as well

Caterina once killed a man with a thimble

When Crows kill someone, most of the time they want others to know it was them (rather than presenting the death as an accident) 

The crows buried six different Eight Talons and rarely take contracts in Ferelden after the Zevran fiasco

[robynlilyblack]

But you’re over here

Fred Weasley x fem! shy! Potter! Reader

Summary: During the final game of the season, a certain redhead couldn’t care less about the trophy

Warnings/tags: swearing, friends to lovers, first kiss, getting together, mutual pining, Hufflepuff reader, potter reader, James being a good dad, Cedric being the best wing and hype man, Jess, Timothy and Joey OCs, marauders being parents

A/n: 4.4k words, ngl the alchemy plays in my head during this kiss scene, apologies for any mistakes I'm a bit ill right now, as always reader can be the bio or adopted older daughter of James and Lily, based on this and this requests ♡

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

“Oh boy, oh boy!” James claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement as he, Lily, Remus, and Sirius reach the top of the stands 

Lily giggles at her husband's enthusiasm, following him to the front row, while Remus and Sirius brace themselves at the top, catching their breaths after a quite frankly atrocious number of stairs

Today was the big game, not only was it the old rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but it was the final, and the first year Harry was serving as captain after Oliver passed the torch to him two years ago. It was safe to say as fun as the Triwizard tournament was the previous year, quidditch was still the marauders and co’s favourite pastime. Hell, the whole school was buzzing

“Were they always that high?” Sirius whispers, rubbing his chest “Fuck me” he breathes heavily

“I think we’re just old now my love” Remus chuckles, after all these years he still can’t help but wind up his husband just a little bit

Sirius makes a face “Fuck you! I’m not old…you’re old!” he childishly argues, wearing a grumpy pout that twitches everyone once and again, revealing the smile beneath

“And when is your birthday?” 

Sirius’ mouth opens to reply but alas the man has nothing and is caught looking like a fish, though he’s a very cute fish in Remus’ mind

“We might be old…but you’re still as pretty as you were last time we were up here” Remus compliments, leaning down to peck Sirius’ tinting cheeks “Pretty boy” he whispers one last blow before pushing off the beam and joining his friends leaving Sirius flustered 

“Pads? You comin?” James calls out, head shooting over “Ohhhh” James barks a knowing laugh, whispering something to Remus and patting his back as he sits down

Sirius can’t help but let out a small smile as they turn away “He thinks I’m pretty” he mutters all giddy to himself before joining his friends, taking a seat between Remus and James, with Lily on James’ other side

“See! I told you we were smart coming early, it’s already beginning to fill up” Lily points out, smiling to herself as she shrugs off her jacket, grabbing the others as well, before laying them on the seats behind them to save room for when the McKinnon’s made their fashionably late appearance

James smiles, hand finding the top of Lily's head “That we were, hun” he agrees, patting her head and soaking up her proud little smile as she smooths out the rest of the coats

“Who are you looking for?” Remus asks, pulling James’ attention back to find Sirius squinting off into the distance

“Our goddaughter, I haven’t seen her in ages” Sirius pouts, squinting harder

“You saw her at Easter break” James chuckles 

“Oh yeah” Sirius nods, remembering “Still, I miss her” he confesses, warming the men's hearts

Sirius and Remus decided against children, not that they didn’t want them per se, more they couldn’t confirm the child's safety with Remus’ furry little problem. As such, they filled that hole with you and Harry. Sirius took an extra shine to you though, maybe it was your shy yet cheeky nature that reminded him of Remus, or maybe it’s the little bit of himself he saw in you, watching you get sorted into Hufflepuff when everyone else in your big, wonderfully weird family was Gryffindor. Whatever it was, though today was Harry’s day, he still had to make sure you were alright

“Do you want your glasses?” Remus offers, sighing as he watches his husbands sorry display and reaches for his bag

Sirius swats his hand away “I don’t need glasses moony, I’m fine. It’s just the wind, it’s blowing stuff in my eyes” he gestures around his face, scrunching his nose before attempting to subtly squint again

Remus’ eyes meet James’, shaking his head as he mouths ‘why can’t he admit defeat?’

James smirks, shrugging as he turns away, now interested in where you were, as is Lily after overhearing the debacle. The four searched for you as the student body make their way to the stands. Glancing around Remus’ spots a wild Weasley, smiling as he watches Ron attempt to hold back his blushes as Hermione fixes the red paint on his cheeks. Lily spots Neville, Ginny and Luna in another stand wearing their handmade lion mains. Sirius spots well…nothing, but your father on the other hand is the one to finally find you. 

He watches as you enter the stand diagonal to them with Cedric, Jess and two other boys he doesn’t quite recognise but based on their green scarfs must be Timothy and Joey, which would be two out of the four very few Slytherins in this world he accepted were good, the others being his best friends’ brother and the one and only Dorcas Meadows

“Found her” he points with joy “There she is, ain’t our little fawn beautiful” he shines, causing all their eyes to fall on you as you all worm your way to the front of your own stand

“It’s funny seeing them in red and gold” Remus notes, an amused look as he observes yours, Cedric, and Jess’s Gryffindor scarves, most likely stolen from your brother and his friends…or perhaps secretly gifted from one particular Weasley

Lily nods, but her head tilts to the side as your head taps the taller of the other boy's shoulders “They seem close, which one is he again, Tim or Joe?” she ponders trying to remember

“Tim, she said he was tall in the letters” James confirms “They aren’t together” he says with confidence

“And how would you know that Captain Oblivious?” Remus’ laughs, eyeing his friend but then his gaze drifts to peak at his husband, who's been unusually quiet, realising he’s still very much struggling to see you

Remus slowly collects the glasses from his bag again and holds them up in offering

“Dammit” Sirius sighs accepting the truth and putting them on, looking grumpy until his eyes widen, like he’s seeing a brand-new world

“Better love?” Remus teases while pointing you out again

“Shut up moo…aww there she is, beautiful as ever” he adjusts them smiling “Wait…whoa” he looks at James doing a double take as everything is now in high definition “You’ve aged so well” he notes

James’ smirks “Why thank you, I steal Lily’s muggles products” he admits unapologetically, not that it’s much of a surprise to the girl next to him who just rolls her eyes, accepting the fact she now buys two of every product just for him

“It’s the one with lighter hair, not Cedric, the taller one” Remus points out to Sirius

“Oh…” Sirius eyes the boy, judging “...nah”

“What do you mean nah?” everyone jumps a little at first turning around to see Marlene, Dorcas and the cutest little lion there had ever been joining them “Holy shi… sugar those specks are something” Marlene laughs, catching herself before glancing at her wife, mouthing an apology while their daughter looks up at them confused

“Suu’gar” the little cub repeats before pointing at Sirius “Specky!” she says excitedly “Unkie Jams t‘win” she claps, pointing between James and Sirius before jumping and clapping again all happy with herself

Sirius’ quickly pulls the glasses off, cheeks heating while the others struggle to hold in their giggles 

“I don’t need them” he looks straight at Marlene, trying his best to be convincing

She just gives him a ‘really’ look in return before smiling softly 

Sirius half chuckles, half sighs as he admits defeat, flashing the women a genuine smile “It’s good to see you Marls, you too Dorca darlin” he then looks down at little Lacy “Hello little cub” he coos 

“Rwah!” Lacy holds up her hands in a claw motion, doing her best lion impression 

It was well known the Marauders had one brain cell between them, but when that cell fired it was magical, all including her mothers and godmother pretended she was the most fearsome thing they’d ever beheld, even a couple other parents who had taken seats little ways down joined in. After some pleas and chocolate offered to calm the beast, the group settled in again, catching up as they waited for the game to start.

You rocked on your feet, eyes continually flicking to the players entrance in anticipation

“You good sunshine?” you feel a soft pat to the top of your head, looking up you’re greeted with Timothy's soft smile, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he checked in, worried the ruckus and busyness of the stand was a bit overwhelming for you

You gently tap your head into his shoulder, nodding “I’m good…just excited” you confess with warm cheeks as your nose is flooded with the scent of your scarf again

“Ahhhh” he elongates, giving you and then the scarf a look “Y/n and Freddie sitting in a tree” he whisper sings

Your eyes widen before you attempt a scowl that looks more like a puppy pouting “Shut up” you chide, fixing the scarf a little before looking away, hoping Cedric, Jess and Joey were having a more in depth conversion but instead you find them grinning “Sugar” you press your lips into a downturned smile

They all looked at each other before singing in unison 

“K…i…s…s…i…n…g!” 

Despite your cheeks positively flaming around the second ‘s’, you can help but break into a smile. Your friends knew about your little crush on the Weasley boy from afar. Despite your brother’s closeness with the family you didn’t have such ties, you adored Ginny on the few occasions she had visited, along with Ron and Hermione, but as for the rest of the clan your paths rarely crossed. You were meant to spend the summer with them as your families decided to holiday together, but when Cedric won the Triwizard tournament that changed, and instead, he took you and your friends traveling with the prize money 

Yours paths finally crossed at the beginning of the school year, when Sprout created a seating pattern allowing everyone to get familiar with their randomised Herbology partner before the end of year assignment. You were nervous at first, as you were sure the professor was when she pulled out your names. Putting the quietest person in Hogwarts with the loudest person seemed like it would either be the worst pairing she had ever seen or the most genius 

To her good fortune…and ego, it was the latter. It was surprising to see the king of mischief actually try with his assignments, but most chalked it up to the fact that while you were quiet, you were well-loved by your year, you held no prejudices, helped people with their assignments when the asked you, and was just in general sweet to everyone, to the point even the meanest Slytherins were a little soft on you. Therefore, most assumed Fred couldn’t bear to let you down either, and while that was true at first, a second reason soon bloomed for the boy

It bloomed for you as well, you slowly opened up to him each class, topics drifting to something deeper, and by the time Christmas rolled around you both were close friends. So close in fact you began inviting him to your friend’s secret hideaway by black lake, at first to study, but then to hang out both with and without your other friends. It was funny at first, with Cedric and Jess being rivals in quidditch and Timothy and Joey's Slytherin status, but Fred warmed to them, gaining their trust and, not that they told either of you, their blessing 

“I hate you all” you pout, falling into Cedric’s side hug as you shake your head

“Nah” Timothy joins from the other side

“You love us” Jess chimes in, beaming at you

“Not as much as she loves him though” Joey adds cheekily, nodding towards the pitch, it seems none of you had noticed the crowds stir for the players appearances during your teasing session

Cedric and Timothy quickly retract their grasp, smiling at one another as you lunge adorably forward to see. Your friends soon join you, all cheering, while you find Fred in the small mass of people, admiring him as he laughs with the others. After a few moments, the team is finished talking, beginning to take flight and get into position. Once there, you watch as Fred’s eyes begin to scan the crowd, heart thumping as his gaze slowly draws closer, skipping a beat when they fall on you, and damn near stopping as he doubles back, face lifting 

You see, a few weeks ago you had met Fred to check over your final herbology assignment, which meant a late-night picnic waiting to see if your flower would bloom under the full moon. While chatting, the topic of today's game came up. Of course, now that Hufflepuff were out for the count, he teased you with who you would be supporting, his teasing backfired however when, without missing a beat, said you would be supporting whatever team he was playing in. 

After his slight fluster, which, to this day is one of your proudest achievements, conversation returned to normal, you figured he’s forgotten about it until a first year found you this morning holding a small bundle of Gryffindor scarves, one of which had a red ribbon around it with a note for you

You bring your hands up, hugging the scarf as your eyes meet, causing the biggest smile to take over his face. It was times like this you truly believed your crush was requited, and little did you know a certain redhead was thinking the same thing

“Be brave and go for it” Cedric whispers some encouragement 

He’s right, you think, Now or never

As you mouth him ‘Good luck’, you add a little extra to it, blowing him a kiss

His eyes widen in a pleasant shock, melting into a mix of joy and pride as he pretends to catch it, winking at you before kissing his balled up fist before returning his gaze to the field just before the starting whistle blows

“Way to go gal” Jess cheers, reaching over to give your arm a soft squeeze

“Aww the grew up so fast don’t they” Timothy wipes an imaginary tear from his eye while Cedric and Jess both match his energy, taking out handkerchiefs and pretending to be forlorn mothers, with Joey doing the same but with an imaginary tissue

You giggle at them, and while you would usually try to come up with some sort of witty answer, you instead break into a smile “He likes me” you say simply, swaying side to side

“If he didn’t, he’d be an idiot love” Cedric gives you a side hug while the rest of your friends’ smile, happy for you “Now let’s what your man kick snake butt”

“Hey-” Joey and Tim begin to object together but then shrug 

“Oh, who are we kiddin” Timothy laughs, taking off his green scarf and pulling out a red and gold one as does Joey “Pusey’s an arsehole and I want a chance to be a bridesman at your wedding someday”

“Bridesman?” you giggle, heartwarming at the idea of you and Fred getting married someday

“Yip, Ceds already called man of honour” 

The match was a whirlwind of emotion, the kind of game that left everyone on the edge of their seats. Gryffindor and Slytherin were neck and neck at every turn, every goal answered by another, and it was clear to everyone that this match would come down who would catch the snitch first

“Holy shit, this is intense!” James exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat “Merlin, how the hell did you guys watch me and Marls do this back in the day?”

“Jamie…language!” Lily scolds with a giggle, lips quirking up in amusement as she gives Dorcas a please forgive us look

“Oh, don’t worry, Lacey can’t hear a thing thanks to these” Dorcas it waves off, gesturing to Lacey’s adorable, enchanted earmuffs “Watch this” she says leaning over the little girl perched on her lap “You want some ice cream, bubs? What about a unicorn?” 

Lacey doesn’t react at all, instead she stays focused on mimicking her other mothers’ gestures and waves towards the pitch

“Those are…” Lily starts but is promptly cut off 

“What the hell was that!” Marlene huffs, throwing up her hands as the crowds roar once more, a mix of cheers and groans as the Slytherins risky manoeuvre pays off leading to another goal “Fucking Pusey again!”

“Did you get the earmuffs for the crowd or for Marls?” Remus whispers to Dorcas, who struggles to hold back a smile

“Oi! Gingers! Stay in formation! Godric, what are you doing?!” Marlene shouts again, shaking her head as Fred and George narrowly avoid colliding whilst going for the same bludger

“No comment” Dorcas replies with a grin before planting a kiss on Lacey’s cheek

The match grows increasingly heated after Harry lets the snitch slip through his grasp, igniting a fire under Slytherins asses causing their play to get even more aggressive

“This game is insane!” Cedric grips the railing so tightly his knuckles turn white

“Come on, Freddie!” you yell, unable to stop yourself as he whizzes by

You watch him turn ever so slightly, catching your voice over the roar before he dives back into the action, pulling off a spectacular move that has more than one person flushing

“Offt…your man’s a beast” Timothy mutters as Fred swoops in to deflect a bludger, shirt riding up a little as he does “What? I can admire” his cheeks tint as he sees all of your raised eyebrows

“Don’t worry” you say with a laugh, “He’ll never admit it, but he has a little guy crush on you too”

“Really?” 

“Really” you confirm, giggling 

“Did you see that?!” Sirius exclaims, pointing towards Fred after he executes a spectacular mid-air spin to block the Bludger aimed at Angelina “Can’t deny the boys got style!”

“Sure does” James agrees but then his expression sinks to a smug one as he adjusts his glasses “Almost as cool as some of the moves we pulled off ay Marls?” he tries to get her attention but is gifted a passive ‘uh huh’ instead

“Oh, please” Remus argues, chuckling “Are we forgetting in our final year when you tried to do a spin like that and your glasses came flying clean off?”

“What?!” Lily, Sirius, and Dorcas all turned to him in unison

“Moony!” James protests before his face slowly sinks as if awaiting his impending doom

“Wait…” Marlene turns slowly, looking menacingly down at James “You’re telling me. I almost lost my final match as captain because of your speckyless ass?”

James hesitates, his ears turning near crimson as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck “…no comment”

With one final push, the final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You and your friends join in, your eyes look over towards Fred, who’s the first to get to Harry, pulling him into the biggest bear hug. The sight makes your heart warm, but your admiration is cut short as your friends practically pick you up, ushering you to move 

“What’s happening” you ask confused

“Come on, we gotta get down their sunshine” Timothy insists, shooing you along with Cedric, Jess and Joey “You’ve got a ginger to congratulate”

Over on the other stands your family celebrates. Everyone’s on their feet, except Lacey who is now glued to Marlene’s hip as they cheer 

“Yesssss!” James roars, pulling Lily into a celebratory hug…and subsequent snog 

“That’s my godson!” Sirius bellows, fist pumping the air before looking to hug James then realises “Oh…well if that’s what we’re doing, come here moons!” he hithers towards Remus, arms outstretched 

Remus laughs softly before indulging his husband, pulling him in for a kiss before dramatically dipping him

Meanwhile Marlene and little Lacey remain oblivious to the romance in the air, as she was too busy yelling so hard her voice will be lost come tomorrow “THAT’S MY LIONS!”

Dorcas just chuckles at the scene, pulling out Lilys camera and snapping a shot of them all (A/n: art of this bit in the future?)

As their celebrations calm down, they notice the teams beginning to land and everyone else begin to make their way down to join them

“This takes me back” Remus lets out a small laugh watching the red and gold scarfs fly around

Nostalgia fills the air as the others join him, gazing down

“Man…that used to be us” James remarks, letting out a breathy laugh before glancing over at Marlene

She nods, a happy yet bittersweet smile on her face “Yeah…good times” she reminisces before looking down at Lacey “Times are still pretty good…maybe better” she confesses watching her little cub cheer 

Dorcas joins her side, arm wrapping around both Marlene and Lacy as their foreheads meet

“I think we should give them their moment” Lily suggests “We have time to embarrass them later” she giggles

The group hums in agreement. As their stand empties, they begin pointing out things only they are privy to from their vantage point. Like Nevilles and Lunas intertwined hands as they weave through the crowd with Ginny, Lee sprinting to hug George, the Slytherin team sulks, or even Snape begrudgingly handing a couple of gallons to McGonagall. None of them, however, have managed to spot you or your friends yet. 

“I hope y/ns alright in the crowds” James says softly next to Lily

“As long as she’s with her friends I have no doubt shell be alright” she hums, giving your fathers arm a squeeze 

“Oh, there she is…” Sirius points you out before chuckling to himself “…maybe being your twin ain’t so bad” he jokes, wiggling his glasses 

James laughs, wrapping an arm around Sirius as everyone turns their attention back towards you 

Down on the pitch, it’s a flurry of red and gold, so you hold back at the edge where it was quieter, encouraging your friends to head into the chaos and enjoy it. Jess, Joey and Timothy promise to be right back, while Cedric spots Cho in the crowd little ways from yourself and joins her, being careful not to drift too far from you

You beam as you take a couple of steps back, watching Harry get lifted up by Ron and Neville. Much like your parents and family above, you want Harry and Fred to have their moment in the spotlight. There would be more than enough time to talk to them after

Unbeknownst to you, one of that duo was already looking for you. Fred’s eyes scan the chaos for your figure, but finds a familiar blonde in the crowd first, and he smiles watching him kiss Cho’s cheek. Cedric feels the eyes on them, looking up and noticing Fred’s searching expression. He smiles, giving a knowing nod towards you, as does Cho who’s clearly been filled in on the situation. 

Fred’s eyes follow the direction and there you are, standing apart from the rest, your gaze locked on Harry. Taking a deep breath, he hypes himself up, realising in that moment you aren’t just wearing his scarf, but the jumper he gave you to keep warm a few weeks ago as well. That along with the kiss you blew him earlier, are all the signs he needed to finally make a move

“Oi, Freddie” George calls as he moves away from the rest of the team “Where ya going?” George tries again but to no avail, Fred’s already gone, pushing through the crowd, using his broom to help manage the masses

As he breaks free, you do a double take, and he finds himself smiling as your confused expression melts into hope and joy

“You’re supposed to be over there” you tell him, taking a few steps forward as he closes the gap

“But you’re over here” he replies simply before leaning closer, eyes searching yours for permission 

You bite your lip, giving him a nod, to which his own smile grows and his broom is abandoned as his larger hands come up to cradle your cheeks guiding them up towards his lips as they crash into your own. You clutch the front of his sweater, pulling him closer but Fred being the showman he is had other ideas. His hands drop down, snaking around your hips before he dips you back. You squeal at first, then laugh softly with him before your lips reconnect. After that the rest of the world fades away. The cheers and buzz around you becoming a distant hum, neither of you reacting to your friends’ cheers nor the flash of Jess’ camera 

Your friends aren’t the only spectators of course…

“Wait…” Marlene points towards you and Fred “…is he about to…oh!” her mouth drops open, gently covering Lacey’s eyes while Dorcas smiles in a happy shock beside her 

Remus, Sirius, Lily are next to react, eyes widening, before breaking into smiles. Remus and Sirius take a moment longer, clearly doing the ‘does he deserve her’ math in their heads first

“That’s my girl” Lilys hands come up to face, overjoyed, she had an inkling you were a little love struck from your letters, she just didn’t know with who until now

“He’s alright” Sirius begrudgingly admits while Remus nods in agreement

Their smiles and shock soon melt into anticipation as they all slowly turn towards James, who had been a bit too quiet considering the situation. But when they see him, he is…beaming?

Turns out Lily wasn’t the only one with an incline, in fact, James being the girl dad he was, has known about every crush you’ve ever had, your one on Fred being no different. Safe to say, he was ecstatic

“Yes!” he cheers “Oh the dips a nice touch, very classy” he nods in approval before looking over at the others “What?” he takes in their shocked faces

“Prongs?” Remus eyes him “You realise that’s y/n, right?” he feels the need to check

“Yeah” James shrugs before his mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape, his reply sending them into fits of laughter “I’m supposed to be mad right now, aren’t I?”

Thank you for reading ♡

[firendgold]

Harry and Lily's motivations and thought patterns can be said to be similar, though, even with how cruelly they were separated.

Harry did not have the chance to be raised by Lily, true. Personality is not solely shaped by genetics: also true. But Harry still shares Lily's stubbornness, cutting tongue, and her strong sense of justice. He shares her belief in the value of sacrifice, even when that sacrifice is personal, final, and has no guarantee of leading to the most ideal outcome. Like both Lily and James, like Sirius and Remus, Harry has no fear of sacrificing himself for friends and family—no fear of dying for what he believes in. He believes in doing things for the benefit of the many, even at his own expense.

This isn't because he's been "groomed" to be that way. It is an innate part of his character from the moment we first meet him in chapter 2 of book 1. It is a part of his character that is clear to characters like Albus, Sirius, Remus, and Severus without Harry ever having to express it in words. It's not an aspect of his character many people like that much, much less accept, but it is a distinct tie between Lily's character and Harry's.

The wizarding world has only a vague idea of who Harry is, and Harry is only infrequently bothered by their opinions of him. His strongest rejection of any role they might put him in is during year 5, when the general public's denial of Voldemort's return is literally threatening his life. But the Ministry and the general public don't have the slightest idea of who Harry is and what he's motivated by—ironically, very similar to many members of Harry's own fandom.

As for Lily's home life, we know that her parents adored her and she had a strong friendship with Severus. But we also know that all was not rosy (no pun intended) in her early life before she grew up and joined the fight against Voldemort. She and Petunia had a rocky relationship which only worsened the more Lily leaned into her identity as a witch. Her first best friend splintered off at some early point during their school years, splitting his time between her and a group of people who thought she was sub-human and a thief of magic. Of the other close friends she may have had, none seem to have outlived her, and she spent at least some of her last days on earth getting news of their deaths.

Lily does not get the screen time she deserves, and much of her behavior is left only to our speculation as fans. But Lily's words and choices in light of the few things we do know about her speak to a deep strength of character, an inflexible sense of right and wrong. Lily Potter is an altruistic woman who is able to empathize with others even without suffering a quarter of the harm that her son comes to experience once she is gone.

Harry was most certainly abused: neglected, treated as less than his cousin, left alone to handle problems no child should have to handle. But I'd argue that these things did not take away his sense of identity, or prevent him from having one; and that it's a common fanon misconception that Harry is either a beaten-down butterfly or a blank-slate everyman.

One of the thing many fans miss about Harry (despite how much his mistreatment is discussed) is that even with the way the Dursleys treat him, Harry does not bend or break before them. A different child might have been submissive, shy, obedient. They might have taken on some of the same ugly beliefs as their 'caretakers'. At eleven years old, Harry is and does none of those things. He is defiant. He is snarky. He is strong-willed, and extremely opinionated, and loyal—though he doesn't fall in line behind the first person with power or wealth or even a winning smile. As he matures throughout the series, these core traits mature with him.

The Harry who sends his friends away for help and decides to face Voldemort at eleven, knowing he will likely die, is the same Harry who goes in secret to face Voldemort at seventeen, knowing he will most certainly die. And he shares this choice, and the belief system it's based on, with the woman who threw herself in front of her killer, her son's would-be killer, and said please not Harry. Have mercy.

Harry Potter wasn't raised to be a soldier or a self-sacrificial lamb. Harry experienced criminal neglect in his early years and realized that no one was going to swoop in and save him when he needed help. He took that to mean that if he wanted something done, if he wanted to help others, he needed to do it himself. By the time he met with adults who did want to help him, and could have helped him, their hands were tied by murderous half-dead men and bureaucratic conservatist systems and discrimination and their own misconceptions of him and a million other things—and that cemented the part of Harry's personality that insisted he must handle things by himself.

And that, acting where others don't or won't, is a choice he makes on his own throughout the series. Harry has plenty of chances to run away from his issues, and a host of people who might have been glad to let him do it. But he doesn't, because he never wants to be a bystander. He never wants to be the type of person who turns his back on the suffering of others—like Wormtail, like the Death Eaters, like the Ministry of Magic. It is a trait he shares with his mother, who could have just as easily packed up and moved clear across the world when Voldemort started terrorizing Britain—but didn't.

Whether they are loved or hated by others, villainized or lionized, both Harry and Lily choose to make personal sacrifices to fight for what's right.

All this to say—I agree with the OP. Harry Potter is not James Potter and he is not Lily Evans Potter either. But I also believe Harry does have some of his parents' less obvious traits, traits which shine through in some of his most perilous moments and give him the strength to overcome his opponents. Still, Harry should NOT be written or interpreted as a carbon copy of either of his parents, because it was Harry James Potter alone who had the personality, the strength, the wisdom, and the selflessness necessary to destroy Voldemort.

Harry Potter is an extremely complex character who deserves actual deep analysis of his choices and character that aren't tied to what his parents said or did or how fans feel about his sacrificial tendencies.

harry potter is NOT james potter.

I love parallels. I love people reminding others of those they've lost along the way.

But Harry Potter is not James . And that is so vital to his entire character.

When people see Harry, they see James. They see a James who sees the world through Lily's eyes. When they see Harry, they don't see Harry.

And that is so vital to his entire being. It's vital to how people see Harry. The people that didn't know James, see the Boy-Who-Lived.

The people who did, who were close to Harry, to James, to Lily. They see James and Lily Potter. They see the people who died, people they were close to, people they miss every day but will never see again.

Remus, Sirius, Snape, McGonagall.

At first, they see James and Lily. And then when they meet him - apart from Snape- they quickly realise he is anything but.

Harry is not arrogant, rich, spoilt. He doesn't have an ego, he doesn't play pranks, he isn't a chaser, he doesn't pick fights.

Harry isn't exceptionally bright at everything he does, he isn't inconceivably forgiving for those who don't deserve it.

He is not Lily and James.

When peole write Harry as a golden retriever, as effortlessly good at everything, they aren't writing about Harry.

Harry who grew up not wanted. Harry who grew up believing something was wrong with him. Harry who was forced into the wizarding world with no knowledge. Harry who is as stubborn as a mule,. Harry who is loyal to a fault, who forgives those he loves, Harry who isn't his parents.

He has traits of them, their anger, their ability to love, and much much more.

BUT Harry Potter isn't them. He isn't the 'best of them both' he isn't James or Lily or Sirius or Regulus.

Harry Potter is Harry. Just Harry.

And that is why he doesn't get along ith Snape. That's why McGonagall believes Harry dragged Neville out for a joke in first year.

When people see Harry, they don't see Harry. And by writing Harry as somebody else, or as 'so-and-so's child' you're not doing the character justice.

'I want a complex character with complex relationships'

'i want an angry character'

'i want to read a book that makes me think'

you couldn't even handle Harry Potter.

[songbirdseung]

new year, same love / lee heeseung

going into 2025 with the man you have pined over for years now. hoping this year you won't have to admire him from afar no more.

there he goes again, strolling through the college hallways with his friends, laughing and talking about who knows what. all you know is that he looks effortlessly good while doing it. lee heeseung was gorgeous, so much so that you often wondered how someone could look better than most people you’ve seen in movies, let alone in real life. the way he carried himself—confident, assured, like he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted—made him impossible to ignore.

heeseung wasn’t just a pretty face; he was ambitious and determined, a man who knew how to chase after his goals without hesitation. but somehow, even with that drive, he managed to maintain a charm that made everyone gravitate toward him.

and you? you fell for him the moment you saw him during freshman year. back then, you thought it was just a harmless crush—something fleeting that you could brush off. but that illusion shattered the second he walked into your first class, sat beside you, and offered you the warmest smile.

"hi, i'm heeseung."

his voice was smooth, almost too comforting. you never thought you’d find someone’s voice so attractive, yet here you were, completely entranced by it.

over the next three years, you silently admired him from afar, never daring to cross the boundary of casual greetings or academic discussions. you convinced yourself there was no point. someone like heeseung, so confident and accomplished, wouldn’t look twice at someone like you—or so your insecurities told you.

but that didn’t stop you from stealing glances whenever he was in the same room or secretly melting every time he casually greeted you in passing. your friends, however, weren’t as content with your one-sided pining.

yeji and winter, your two best friends and self-proclaimed "love-life saviors," had been listening to your endless praises about heeseung for years. they were your biggest cheerleaders, hyping you up to approach him. but lately, they’d grown tired of your hesitation and decided to take matters into their own hands.

with senior year coming to an end, they knew time was running out. their plan? a harmless little scheme to push fate along—a small prank that would get you and heeseung stuck in the same room together.

the day of their so-called intervention began innocently enough. you were in the library, buried in research for your final project when yeji plopped into the chair across from you, her grin a little too wide to be genuine.

"hey, yn," she said, voice sweet but suspiciously scheming. "did you hear about the study rooms on the third floor? they just added soundproofing. perfect for concentration."

"uh, no," you replied absentmindedly, still typing away. "why?"

"oh, nothing. i just booked one for you. figured you'd need some peace and quiet."

you glanced up, suspicious. "since when are you so considerate?"

winter appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the seat next to yeji. "stop questioning and just go, yn. you'll thank us later."

reluctantly, you gathered your things and headed upstairs. the moment you entered the room, you froze.

there, sitting at the table, was lee heeseung.

"oh," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

he looked up from his laptop, surprise flickering across his features before he smiled. "hey, yn. didn’t expect to see you here."

your brain scrambled for a coherent response. "uh, yeah... same. must be a mix-up."

you turned to leave, but the door clicked shut behind you. you tried the handle. locked.

your heart sank as realization hit: yeji and winter had set you up.

"everything okay?" heeseung asked, standing up and walking toward you.

"uh, yeah, just... locked in," you said, forcing a laugh. "probably some glitch."

he chuckled, his voice warm. "guess we’re stuck then. might as well make the most of it."

he gestured to the chairs, and you hesitantly sat down, your pulse racing.

"so," he said, leaning forward with that signature confidence, "tell me about you. we’ve had so many classes together, but i feel like i barely know anything about you."

the casual question caught you off guard, but his genuine interest disarmed you. slowly, you began to talk, sharing snippets of your life, your interests, and even your favorite coffee spot on campus.

to your surprise, heeseung listened intently, asking questions and laughing at your stories. the initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by an unexpected ease.

an hour passed before you even realized it, and when the door finally unlocked (thanks to yeji's "mysterious" intervention), you almost felt disappointed.

"guess we're free now," he said, standing up and grabbing his bag.

"yeah," you murmured, feeling a strange mix of relief and longing.

he paused by the door, glancing back at you with a small smile. "you know, this was actually fun. we should do it again sometime—minus the locking part."

your eyes widened. "oh, uh, yeah. sure."

and just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

yeji and winter were definitely going to pay for this—but maybe, just maybe, you’d thank them later.

[warblogs17282]

I'm still busy thinking about that comment that said that Vivzie said season 3 would have a focus on 'family and addiction', and now that I think about it, the show really does appear to be heading that direction. (Again, I do not have the clip to confirm this claim at this moment in time.)

As for family, let's start with Stolas and Octavia, we know that their conflict is far from being over at this point in the show for a few reasons, but the biggest one is the fact that Blitz makes it especially clear in the last few moments of the episode, with the lines 'You just gotta give her time.' and 'You just gotta keep trying.', so we definitely have more plotlines involving these two in season 3 (and Andrealphus + Stella).

Wherever the show decides to go in regards in Millie's pregnancy and the fact that Sallie May knows about said pregnancy, and I also imagine it's likely that the rest of Millie's family is also going to find out about Millie's pregnancy at some point during season 3 as well, so Millie's family is likely going to make more appearances during season 3 as well.

Blitz mentions Barbie Wire towards the end of the episode as well, in which I can only imagine that it's foreshadowing more Blitz and Barbie Wire interactions, and potentially some sort of resolution to their conflict at some point during season 3 as well.

Something else that the show makes quite clear is just how much the circus fire + Blitz's upbringing with an abusive parent still deeply effects Blitz to this day, (and quite frankly, the events of that fateful day will probably still continue to effect Blitz, forever.) so we're probably going to see more regarding that and potentially some more flashbacks to the pre-circus fire days, especially in regards to Blitz's mother and Blitz's abusive father, even more so if Blitz is referring to said circus fire with the line 'for something that I did.'

Considering how s2 e3 and s2 e6 went for Crimson, I imagine he's going to be plot relevant next season as well, which likely opens the gates for more flashbacks and such regarding Moxxie's upbringing in the mob family, potentially showing us more scenes of Moxxie's mother as well, who, as I've said before, was likely murdered by Crimson when Moxxie was very young.

I have no idea if they'll make an appearance next season, but I do still find it interesting that Stolas' mother just appears to be non-existent, so I do wonder if they have a plotline involving her, or if they have plotlines related to Stolas and Paimon at some point during season 3 as well, although probably not tbh.

Of course, I can't finish off this section without mentioning I.M.P, and all the people within it, which is it's own found family at this point tbh.

And this scene as well, we absolutely cannot forget the Stolitz domestic family moment that we saw in Sinsmas, aka, the scene where we see some of Blitz's hopes and dreams.

As for addiction, we have Stolas' alcoholism, which alongside being something that the show has pointed out in some form time and time again, Bryce has mentioned at a panel or whatever that it is something that Stolas struggles with, so I imagine it's probably going to get a mention in season 3 at some point.

Stolas and smoking might be something that comes up at some point, but I kinda doubt that considering that we've only seen Stolas smoke once before, all the way back in s1 e5, but for now I do think it's something worth keeping an eye on.

The fact that Verosika also appears to be an alcoholic, it got mentioned once in s1 e3 that she went to rehab, but got out early because she was famous, while still very clearly being an alcoholic, so I wonder if that's going to get a mention at some point during season 3.

And finally, Blitz makes a comment about the fact that Barbie Wire used to be on some sort of drug named H-8, which she went to rehab for at some point considering Verosika's earlier statement, so I wouldn't be surprised if this detail gets brought up again tbh.

So yea, considering that alleged statement from Vivziepop saying that season 3 is going to have a focus on 'family and addiction', I can already see quite a few potential plot points the show has potentially been setting up for that's relevant to either the themes of family or addiction. (Obviously there's also other ones that's going to relevant as well like Blitz and Loona, but I just want to focus more so on the plot points that the show appears to be directly setting up for season 3.)

[bogleech]

I never thought about that, but I never found jigsaw puzzles enjoyable to do either! I might like the image being sold as the puzzle, but then I'd rather have it in higher resolution without all the jigsaw cuts.

Maybe it's also that I don't get a sense of challenge from it. I draw just how I want to draw and need to draw to be satisfied enough. It gets steadily better on its own just from understanding and remembering new things to do but it otherwise feels kind of like waiting in line at the DMV. It's the hurdle of a bunch of time that must be sacrificed for the drawing to happen.

This is why I always want a movie or series on while doing it. Anything to feel like I'm using the time for more than just sitting around waiting for my body to make the picture.

This post broke containment so some responses have no idea what I draw. I draw almost strictly creatures I come up with when it's not scenes for a webcomic I post.

Maybe it also sheds some light into this topic that I don't draw anything to just be a picture. I only draw things to be used in stories or games, things with a long term role attached to a narrative. These are all for my tabletop RPG setting which has over 800 monsters so far, and I love every single one but that includes thousands more that I've not yet had the time to draw. I come up with another handful of them every day without really meaning to. It's like an intrusive thought almost? And I want them all to become fully polished usable illustrations but I'm only one person.

I do enjoy the process of sketching the initial ideas, but that might be because each finished creature sketch takes me only seconds, so there isn't a sense of waiting and waiting and waiting for eternity for them to be done. Like in 6 hours I can make just one of those fully colored ones, or I can fill up an entire notebook with ballpoint pen or pencil ideas.

This is also why I cannot understand why anyone would want to use a design they got from an AI prompt. The only point of a concept is that you thought of it and that you even decided where every little wrinkle and hair and pants pocket was going to go. If an automated digital randomizer did that for you then it's not your imagination being realized :( Even when I could only draw 5% as "well" as I think I do now (and it's still not a great style by most standards) I was already willing to "wait at the DMV" for each one.

Lots of artists lately talking about burnout and how they no longer find the process fun and enjoyable.

And I'm over here like........you guys EVER found that enjoyable?? Was I supposed to???

It is not fun to do the work itself. It's never crossed my mind that it could be. Having something finished is great and I can't stop making things but the process required to have made something is just arduous tedious labor. you do it for the result alone, not the hours of sitting still staring at the same surface.

It must be awesome to ever be capable of enjoying a form of "work" 😕

[insane-arcane]

Yandere Jayce X Reader X Viktor

You'd just made a breakthrough in your work and Sky had taken you out to celebrate. After a few drinks too many and a couple fun appetizers you made your way home. She offered to walk you but you could hold your liquor and weren't worried about getting back to your apartment which was relatively close. Walking her back to the Academy making sure not to stumble so she wouldn't worry she pauses at her dorm buildings door. Her eyes glance to the left then the right as her hand stays latched around your wrist. She asks if she should call a carriage or security to escort you to your apartment but slipping your hand away you wave her off with a confident smile.

The walk home was pleasant. It was a warm night with a gentle breeze blowing and as you walked you took everything in with a happy glow. The drinks somehow make the world a much brighter place. You wished you were this optimistic all the time. We're the gardens always this beautiful? We're they always missing so many blooms?

Entering your home with a slight giggle you hum confused staring at your furniture. Had they been moved? Figuring it was the alcohol you shrug it off but then you hear something. Eyes narrowing you regret not taking Sky's offer as a heavy feeling of dread settles in your stomach. Creeping to your kitchen careful not to step on any loose boards you look for a weapon.

Eyes scanning the tools you grab a meat cleaver off your kitchen stand before you pause. You still had time, if there was an intruder they had no idea you were here. You could leave and get security downstairs but what if you were wrong? What if you hadn't heard anything? They'd think you were Crazy or a Drunk. You might get in trouble for nothing and you couldn't afford the rumors it might cause.

Deciding to bite the bullet and hope for once you were wrong you kick your bedroom door open. Holding out the knife you pause.

Your favorite smell wafts through the air and you suddenly feel calmer, your shoulders dropping almost instantly. Your pounding headache begins to fade and you wonder where it's coming from and if you left a candle on. Blinking you close your eyes before you put a hand to your head. Taking a deep breath you're finally able to focus on the disarray of your room and who was inside.

"Viktor! Jayce! What the fuck?" You demand as you stand in your doorway Meat Cleaver ready to be used. Viktor was leaning against Jayces shoulder tired but hearing your voice he slightly stirred.

"Ahhhh (Y/N) your here!" Jayce states getting up off the bed and walking away from Viktor. He claps his hands before gesturing to the well decorated room. Viktor makes an annoyed sound at being disturbed but simply grabs his cane and slowly stands up when he sees it's you.

"Yes. I live here. What are you doing here?" You demand pointing your knife at them. Your brain buzzed and you were a little to tired for all of this. How did they get into your apartment? Why were they in your apartment? A million questions buzzed through your brain.

"See I told you it was a bit much? Ja?" Viktor says as he pinches his nose before he uses his free hand to wipe at his face trying to wake up. He looked at you with a sleepy grin and you roll your eyes in disbelief.

"No it was romantic." Jayce defends as he turns to look at Viktor making you groan. Jayce would think that wouldn't he, delusional as he was?

"I admit we may have gone overboard." Viktor states as he sees your displeased look. "But only with the best intentions love, nothing sinister see?" He questions and you hum noticing the melted candles and rose petals.

"How... How did you get into my house?" You question staring at the romantic setup with a confused and slightly worried look.

"Technicalities don't matter. Do you like it?" Staring at all the romantic pros you take a deep breath and press your hand to your forehead as you felt another much stronger headache coming on.

"I... Yes it's nice. Viktor did you break into my house?" You question slowly. You didn't want to insinuate anything since he was from the Undercity but your door being unlocked and them being in your apartment told you they'd somehow snuck or otherwise broke in. You were very specific about your lock routine not wanting any research or valuables to be stolen from you since you spent a majority of your time in the lab.

"Do you really want to know lovley?" Viktor teases and you close your eyes again. You were too tired and too drunk, honestly you didn't. You really didn't. You just wanted to collapse on your bed and sleep.

"Did you pick my lock?" You question softly. It's not an accusation, more of a hypothesis but you already know the answer before either answer. Viktor gives you a sheepish smile and shrugs as if to say who knows. But you made your own assumptions and you knew exactly how they got in. Golden eyed cheeky bastard.

"Were getting off track." Jayce interjects as he steps in front of you and grabs your shoulders before he turns you towards the bed.

"Okay I'll bite. What is all of this?" You question not letting go of the meat cleaver as he walks you closer to your bed.

"A romantic gesture." You stared at all the flowers, rose petals, candles, and chocolate covered fruits in trays.

"... Romantic is not the word I'd use. Unnecessary perhaps." You respond making a face as Jayce urges you to sit.

"(Y/N) you wound me so." Jayce states pouting. Humming in acknowledgment you stare at your room, at what they'd done for you. At the mess you'd have to clean later.

"I'd offer you a glass of wine but it seems you've had your fill." Viktor suddenly says looking concerned, perhaps annoyed. You weren't entirely sure what laid behind his eyes in that moment but something you weren't used to. Rolling your eyes in turn for what feels like the hundredth time you place the knife down.

"Oh I'm going to need a glass after all this." You state as you bring your hands up to your face.

“As long as you share.” Jayce responds nuzzling into your neck. Giggling scooting away from the affectionate gesture you whine as Jayces soft lips touch your neck, so different from his calloused hands that wrap around your waist. The inventors crafty hands slip under your shirt and graze across your ticklish stomach. As gooseflesh rises on your arms your eyes flutter and Jayce hums clearly enjoying himself.

Viktor chuckles watching you get flustered. “Where were you?” He questions as he sits on the other side of you tilting your face towards him. As you smile leaning into his warm hand he smirks slightly, enjoying the contact. “(Y/N)...?” He hums lips hovering over yours as he waits for an answer.

“Celebrating with Sky. I wanted you both to come but couldn't find you.” You respond and he nods satisfied before leaning in to close the gap. As Viktors lips touch yours Jayces hands begin to fiddle with your clothes.

“You found us.” Jayce teases and you shiver as Viktor deepens the kiss and Jayce continues to gently grope you. Their hands only getting more desperate as they squish you in-between them.

You did indeed. You found something you didn't even know you were looking for. A fact they seemed to be forgetting. As their lips crash against yours and their hands feel your body you whine. They shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be doing this. But the more they kissed you and the more you sunk into your sheets with their sweet words whispered in your ear the less you cared. Slightly hazy from the alcohol but enjoying the feeling none the less you wonder if life has always been this colorful. If it was the alcohol or the thrill of it all. And when you woke up would it still be this colorful entwined in their arms?

Or would the harsh truth of their breaking in ruin the morning mood? You're not sure and as they continue to kiss and hold you, only getting more desperate for you after waiting for so long, you realize that's a problem for tomorrow. For now it's colorful.

[sheigarche]

girl shut up

I'm going to assume this is about Life is Strange because that's what I've been talking about the most in the last 2 months and I don't think any of my other fandoms would be bother by my posts.

So here are some hot take ideas for LIS posts I've never made because I thought it might upset some fans, but maybe I shouldn't be so quiet about it after all.

Pricefield vs DE

It seems like everything in Double Exposure was deliberately written to justify Chloe breaking up with Max.

Chloe showed that she was paranoid that Max may be using her powers to manipulate the relationship to make it work and that's exactly what Max did to Amanda and got call out for it in the end.

She also expressed how Max is unable to let go of the past and is haunt by it. So most of the game we see Max (and the player) holding on to it and struggling to move on until the very end. Some fans still can't do it and doesn't want Max to do it, but that's exactly why Chloe left.

Many people didn't realize it, but Max was struggling to establish herself as a real photographer in the years she was with Chloe, but quick became famous and recognized in the years after they broke up.

To me that's the game trying to sell the idea that they are better off without each other.

Chaseprice

Victoria and Chloe's posts in DE don't show anything explicitly romantic, it could just be friendship, but the intention to make it look like something more is pretty clear to me.

The writers chose sentences like "can you handle it, Chase?" and "I'll buy you a beer" on purpose and know exactly what the players will think of it.

Besides Victoria shows a desire in going from wherever she lives to see Chloe, and then Chloe makes plans to do a little detour to go see Victoria. Whatever this relationship is, they're making it work long distance with effort on both sides. Mutual interest.

I wouldn't be surprised if in the sequel we see one post or two subtly hinting that they're actually together. A picture on Crosstalk, maybe a comment from someone else on their posts.

Hell, I can even imagine an art gallery event of some sort where Max is invited and can bring her chosen love interest and Victoria is there with Chloe as her date... And that's how the devs manage to have a natural last conversation between Max and Chloe in person to give closure to their relationship.

And I kind of expect Victoria to come to them at some point, a little jealous or just proud of her girlfriend.

Langfield

Some people keep saying that Max wouldn't be interested in Vinh... But that's wrong.

The reality is that it was the first game's choices and Max's journey is what makes them fit together so well.

Yes, okay, maybe 18-year-old Max wouldn't like this emotionally dry 28-year-old Vinh. Maybe 18-year-old Max would have liked way more to know the enthusiastic drama student 18-year-old Vinh, who dreamed of being an actor.

Now this 28-year-old Max, full of traumas and complexes knows enough about life to see through 28-year-old Vinh's walls and realize that he is not dry, but afloat and barely keeping himself together. That's why she can really connect with him, as a friend or more.

It was the traumas and secrets that made her interesting to Vinh, just like his traumas and regrets are what make Max interested in him.

They fit together because they share some similar emotional experiences and they know how the other might be feeling in certain situations. And when they are together, they can laugh about it, have fun and be themselves, even if just for a moment.

Amberprice

Honestly I left this fandom years ago without shipping Pricefield or Amberprice, because of some reservations about Chloe's character. But now I'm back because of DE and I decided to finish Before the Storm... I can't get Rachel out of my head!

Seriously, what's this magic in their scenes and why can't I stop watching them on loop?

I always thought I had a crush on Max, but I actually have a crush on Rachel Amber of all characters. Maybe I am Chloe Price all along 😂

You know a ship is good when it changes your perception of the characters.

[yellowocaballero]

a while back you mentioned having written ~40k of a steven moon knight fic as well as some of a frenchie fic? i was just wondering if those would ever be posted/shared or if they will stay in google docs superhell forever (also love your work!! your star wars swap au i particularly enjoyed as well as the tma evilcon + associated fics) best of days to you !!

Look at this evilcon fan over here. Deep fucking cut.

Ah, yes I have. The 40k fic was written for Marvel Trumps Hate, and I didn't post it due to some vaguely complicated but not altogether important reasons. The Frenchie fic was the unfortunate victim towards me very abruptly falling out of MK, lmfao. I think all of my fandoms have The One Abandoned Fic that I was working on when I just Got Over the fandom (Human Relations sequel, so cruelly abandoned....).

Kind of a shame, since the Frenchie fic was not bad and just got kinda roadblocked at the end. I've tossed around maybe finishing it when MKS2 comes out and I inevitably get sucked back in. I don't want to post the MTH fic on AO3 right now (maybe in the future when MKS2 comes out and I get sucked back in etc) but there's honestly no reason not to show you...I think...looking back over this, I think I may have decided that the fic's sense of humor was just too insane. It's very.......uh.....

Uh, ok, just between you and me and other people reading this then. It's a fic about a normal guy who thinks that schizophrenia makes you immortal and autism gives you superpowers.

I'll put it in a follow-up post. In the meantime here's the first few scenes from the Frenchie fic. I really do wanna finish this one day....

“A phone call?”

The jackal barked in elderly confusion.

Steven leaned back in his chair, scratching his stubble. Jake was insisting that they experiment with facial hair and it was best to let him have these little victories. “Well, under the human American law each citizen is entitled to a phone call if they get arrested. That’s probably what he means.” The jackal barked dismissively. “Have you tried telling him that?” The jackal barked again, aggravated. “I see. Quite a pickle. Well, I don’t see any harm in giving him the call. We’d have to warn him that this is a faux legal system and that he’s not entitled to any lawyers, but perhaps he could tell his wife he won’t be home for dinner? That would be nice.”

The jackal growled. 

“We could be nice,” Steven said reproachfully. 

The jackal barked again.

“If you really think about it, nothing’s stopping us. Masters of our own fates and whatnot, right? Well - yes, yes, I know the gods are the masters of our fates, that’s not quite - look, sir, there’s no point in worrying a man’s wife unnecessarily, is there? How would your wife feel if you disappeared off the mortal plane?” The jackal hung its head, and Steven sighed as he stood up. “I’ll lend him my mobile.” The courthouse only had landlines, and even then that was iffy. Magical ancient Egyptian constructs still struggled with 4G. “But if he messes about with my Twitter then we’re adding another thousand years onto his sentence.”

Situations like this were why Steven still showed up to work. This zoo often struggled at little things like this without him. The place had gone to the jackals while he was gone - literally, they had taken over many administrative positions - and it would take months just to clean up the wreckage. Steven didn’t mind - nothing made him happier than a good little routine. Ten to two, that was his preference. Downright inhumane to make a man work any longer than four hours a day. He had even scheduled a deli or restaurant to visit for lunch each day of the week. And Marc and Jake were not allowed. Steven only zone. A man’s office was his castle. Besides - if they knew what he got up to all day they might complain about it. 

The two were deeply asleep - Jake because he found Steven’s entire life dull as dirt and Marc because all of the mandated socialization they were doing lately really took it out of him. Steven found it delightful. Jake’s friends were really nice once you got to know them, and you could reliably get a pained expression out of any of them once you told them so. Marc found their whole thing exhausting and if Jake wasn’t entertained he wanted to die, so around noon the two slept like Alexander the Great’s mummy. Might as well build them little tombs. That was cute. Steven knew exactly what his own tomb would look like. He was practically a pharaoh and everything - maybe Khonshu would make sure he got one? No, Khonshu didn’t care about them nearly that much. Boy, but wouldn’t that be nice.

He gave the Bast statue guarding the elevator its usual nose pat, he smiled and waved at the lumbering shabtis, and he stopped and said his usual ‘hello how are you how’s Nephthys Osiris talking to you again yet’ to the Set statue as the jackal gave him the stink eye for holding them up. Kindness was key, Mr. Jackal. Steven believed in positive Steven-god relations. He lived in hope that the other gods would model good behavior for Khonshu and eventually sway him into becoming less of a dick. 

The ibis perched adorably in a little booth checked his identity as it picked up a little visitor’s badge with his beak and dropped it into Steven’s outstretched hand. It pecked at the computer keyboard a few times, accomplishing nothing other than mangling the G and H keys, and a series of papers ground out of the ancient fax machine. Steven cautiously reached over and fetched the papers, scanning them. They were details of the prisoner’s case, which made Steven feel a bit like one of the Forbidden Lawyers. The jackal led him down the winding paths of the jail as Steven fumbled in his pocket for his glasses, squinting down at the pages. 

“Well, this doesn’t seem too nasty,” Steven announced. “I’m sure we can get this sorted out. Certainly not a problem for our Jake, eh?” He looked at the jackal out of the corner of his eye. “Eh?” The jackal did not respond. “Right?”

Steven made the executive decision that this was a bureaucratic issue and therefore not a Marc or Jake issue. They’d just over-involve themselves and pretend they knew anything about the fake legal system. Marc and Jake were like baby brothers playing video games with you on an unplugged controller. They needed to feel like they were doing something or they’d throw a hissy fit. 

The jackal didn’t have to stop and point out the prisoner. Steven could hear him from all the way down the hall: empathetic, pointed, and incessant French patter. The man sounded like he was arguing against a parking ticket, which displayed a disappointing lack of cognizance as to the severity of his situation and the high likelihood that he was about to experience extrajudicial horrors beyond his imagining. 

Poor guy. Imagine being from France. 

For the first time in Steven’s life his shaky French that he could not actually remember learning but that Marc and Jake did not know actually came in handy. As he got closer he could more or less puzzle out what the fast talking man was saying to the two unamused and unswayed jackals. Could the jackals speak French? It had to be some magic thing. The only animals around here who could actually talk to the humans and explain to them what was happening were the baboons, and they were never polite about it.

“ - one little call! That is it! I will never darken your doorstep again, I swear it. One phone call - and, maybe, letting me go! We can talk about it, let’s talk about it! You and I, we are reasonable men - jackal, I am a reasonable man and you are a reasonable jackal - unless you are a woman? Are you a woman? You are still a jackal at any rate. You are a very reasonable gendered jackal, and I am innocent of all crimes - and even if you are a nongendered jackal, I do not judge, I have friends of all kinds - if you give me one phone call I may call one of my friends and he can help, I am certain he is friends with very many of you people -”

The man cut off the second Steven walked into view of his cell. The cells were very basic, with only a cot and a toilet and one wall of metal bars. He was standing up against the bars, fighting with the two unamused jackals standing against the cement wall in the hallway. The man’s head jolted away from the jackals and fixed on Steven, forgetting his captive audience entirely. His slicked back hair was frayed and mussed, gelled strands sticking up every which way, and his blonde mustache twitching in surprise as his eyes widened.

Steven was sympathetic. Human prisoners were always shocked to find a real bloke around the place. 

He waved a bit awkwardly, his reading glasses flopping in the air. In shaky and awkward French, he said, “Bonjour! My name is Steven Grant. And you are…” He shoved his glasses on, squinting down at the intake form. “Jean-Paul Duchamp?” He pronounced it ‘Jean Paul Dew-Champ’, and judging from the man’s twitch he had mangled it. Oh well. “Right. Do not worry, everything will be fine. You wanted a phone call? I have a phone for you.”

The man stared at him. Steven silently suffered this. He knew he was attractive. 

Finally, the man said in accented but thankfully perfect English, “I have changed my mind. May I speak with you in private, Monsieur Grant?”

The three jackals barked simultaneously. Steven rolled his eyes. Honestly! He knew he was the Avatar of Khonshu now, they didn’t need to be like that! “I don’t think that’s allowed. For security reasons and all. Not that there’s anything you could possibly do to me.” A grizzled jackal with one eye barked. “Emotional - hey! I would have you know that my Myers Briggs said I was the resilient type!” Steven considered the matter for a second. “Oh, but I did have a bad horoscope today. Maybe you’re onto something. Do we have any augurers on staff?”

“Excuse me,” Jean-Paul butted in, increasingly wild eyed, “Do you care to explain what is going on, Monsieur Grant? Because the only explanation I’ve received so far was from paperwork on papyrus and a rude baboon.”

Why was he saying his name like that? The French were so weird.  Steven leaned down slightly to whisper in the nearest jackal’s ear. “And he must have been really bad if a French guy is calling him rude.” The jackals cackled. Jean-Paul’s eye twitched. “Never fear, Mr. Duchamp. I’m sure we can get this whole thing sorted out before supper. Let’s review the details of your case, shall we?” 

“What case?”

“Oh, you’re in an ancient Egyptian courthouse for ancient Egyptian crimes,” Steven said vaguely, sliding on his reading glasses and flipping through the pages again. “Yes, the Egyptian gods are real, no they are not aliens, you better believe in ghost stories Ms. Swan you’re in one, etcetera. Alright, alright…I see…ah! There we are! Charged as accessory to one count of tomb raiding…oh, just a little asterisk here, let’s see what that’s all about…you stole from a children’s hospital!?”

“I did not know that is what we were doing!” Jean-Paul cried. “Someone tells me to fly a medical helicopter, I do not ask questions! If I made a habit of interrogating every one of my clients I would not have a great deal of clients, monsieur!”

“Organs from a -”

“It is called professionalism!” 

“It’s called evil!” Steven said, appalled. The jackals barked in agreement. “I have to say, Mr. Duchamp -”

“It’s doo-shamp. And John-Paul. Mon frere.”

Oh wow, oh no, sorry for the French microaggression. Honestly. “If it wasn’t for the fact that you betrayed your clients the second you discovered what they were stealing and refused to pilot them away you would be facing the same punishment they are. It’s quite karmic. Do you  know what Egyptian canopic jars are used for?” Jean-Paul looked a little queasy. “Exactly. Do you still want that phone call, Mr. Duchamp? You’ll receive your sentence from Thoth with or without it.”

“Then why give it to me?” Jean-Paul asked waspishly.

Steven shrugged. “I wouldn’t want your husband to worry.”

“Rest assured, I am quite single.” Jean-Paul stuck his hand out through the bars. “Give it here.”

Steven pulled up the phone function on his mobile and passed it to Jean-Paul, ignoring his thoughtful expression. He tried to convey ‘mess with my phone and I’ll mess with you’ through rigorous eyebrow tilting, but he knew he was very bad at it. 

Jean-Paul stepped back, swiping on the mobile. It did not look like he was punching in a number. Steven abruptly became anxious that he was snooping on Steven’s mobile. He had remembered to delete his text history with Layla, right? Right?!

He typed something on it before looking up, holding it up oddly to show Steven the screen before passing it back to him. “I changed my mind. No need for a call. Thank you for lending me your phone, monsieur, but it was unnecessary.”

The screen was open to the notes app. Steven abruptly felt like they were passing notes in class. Except not quite, because Steven was the Avatar of an Egyptian god and the other party was in jail for magic crimes. The note read -

marc what is the plan

Oh. Oh!

Steven looked up, and now he could clearly read the man’s irritated ‘why are you looking surprised, this is a matter of utmost secrecy’ eyebrow twitch. “Goodness, I’m so sorry. The egg is really on my face here, I’m so embarrassed.” He looked down at the jackal next to him, who twitched its ears attentively. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. It seems -”

Steven stopped short. 

This man knew Marc. He now knew Steven. Marc really, really, really hated it when this happened.

Marc had spent the vast majority of his life masking. His family had been big believers in the ‘never talk about it and pretend it doesn’t exist’ school of mental illness, which had resulted in a great deal of very terrible problems. Marc did not learn from any of these problems and continued to hide the DID from everybody he had ever met up to and including his own wife for a depressing yet impressive length of time. Steven hadn’t really agreed with the wife decision, because it was a slightly huge aspect of their lives that was very much Layla’s business, but Marc believed in privacy. Steven couldn’t fault him for that. 

It wasn’t anybody’s business if Marc didn’t want it to be their business and they were not Marc’s actual wife. Jake spouted off about shame and internalized ableism, which was undoubtedly true, but nobody was really entitled to his health information. He had the right to self-disclose when he wanted and to who he wanted. Steven only wished that this reasonable desire did not lead to sitcom-esque hijinks as they all switched mustaches and pretended to be each other. Sometimes literally. Jake had his whims.

Marc wouldn’t want this random pilot knowing personal stuff about him. He was probably just some colleague he had worked with one time and never saw again. And Steven was very dedicated to helping Marc and making his life easier, just like Marc was dedicated to helping Steven and making his life harder. Jake was dedicated to being a bully. 

Being involuntarily outed was traumatic for Marc. The last time it happened he fell asleep for four weeks and plunged Steven into a Jake induced nightmare. What if he went back to sleep? What if he never woke up this time? What if he left Steven alone with Jake forever? He couldn’t take that chance.

Marc didn’t have to find out about any of this. No point in stressing him out over nothing. 

In a stunning show of cunning, cleverness, and subtlety, Steven looked down at the jackal next to him. “Actually, can I talk with Mr. Duchamp in private? There’s some things we need to discuss.” The jackal asked what. “Human things.” The jackal asked why it had to be private. “They’re private human things.” Steven paused a beat. “Like periods. We’re going to talk about our periods.”

The jackals knew enough about humans to know that periods were private human things and not enough to know that cisgender men did not get periods. They gave him dubious looks anyway, but when Steven mimed yanking a crescent knife from his chest they obligingly filed out. The grizzled one-eyed jackal turned around and gave John-Paul a gimlet ‘I’m watching you’ eye, but John-Paul just sniffed and looked above it all. French people sure were good at looking snooty.

The second the jackals turned the corner and disappeared from sight Steven took a deep breath and changed. 

He straightened, folding his expression into a deep scowl. He tilted his head forward in Marc’s faux intimidating fashion and affected Marc’s terrible Chicago accent - which was just as fake as Steven’s very real to him British accent, thank you very much! Jean-Paul straightened too, eyes widening again.

“What the hell?” Steven demanded. Ugh. It was hell on the throat to talk like this. “How did you even get yourself into this mess?”

“Me? I am the one in the mess?” Jean-Paul stabbed a finger at Steven, who scowled deeper. “What was that? What is this? Why are you working for an ancient Egyptian courthouse under a false identity?”

“It’s a long story,” Steven snapped. It was really easy to avoid questions as Marc. You just had to be mean. “And it’s none of your business.”

“At this point I think it is very much my business! Jesus, Marc!” Jean-Paul exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead in a forcible attempt at zen. “What is this, some sort of op? Are you undercover?”

“I said it was none of your business!”

“This is why you don’t run the ops,” Jean-Paul said. Steven was offended on Marc’s behalf. “I am impressed at your acting skills but not at your subtlety.”

“The usual, then,” Steven said wryly. “I’m impressed with your talent at getting arrested.”

“I get it, I get it. Marc Spector twenty, Jean-Paul fifteen. I swear, Marc, only you would get yourself in these predicaments.”

“You’re the one in the predicament. I’m doing fine.”

“My predicament is your predicament.” Why would that be true? He said it so casually, as if it was a given fact. Quite presumptuous of him, in Steven’s opinion. “At least now I don’t have to waste a hope and a prayer that you would pick up your phone this time. How are you going to get me out of this one? They have a giant baboon! Have you seen the baboon!”

“The baboon’s very understanding about my medical needs, so watch it.” Wait - had he wanted to spend his one phone call on Marc? Why? They were talented, cool, and altruistic, but… “Look, I’ll do what I can. But the gods aren’t exactly easy to argue with. I’ve tried to get them to overturn a sentence before and it failed miserably.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard my friend try to do things the legal way.” Jean-Paul folded his arms. “Just bust me out. Isn’t that more your style?”

What a suck-up. Marc didn’t have friends. Steven smiled anyway, brittle and thin. “Don’t worry, Jean-Paul. I’ll do everything I can to help you. Just please try and understand the position I’m in.”

Jean-Paul stared at him. Steven forced himself to look the other man in the eyes even though it made him uncomfortable. Marc always stared down people he didn’t trust. 

“So, uh,” Steven said, “I better call the jackals back -”

“Please admit you do not know who I am.”

Steven froze. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Jean-Paul sighed. He kneaded his forehead again, shoulders slumped, but something about the gesture had changed. My predicament is your predicament - what did that mean? “Why didn’t you say - non, non, you would have no reason. Marc, please listen to me.” He looked solidly at Steven, and Steven found himself looking away. “It’s Frenchie. I’m your friend. We met in Afghanistan and we’ve worked together ever since. You’re having another amnesiac episode. This happens to you sometimes and it is nothing to worry about. Do you believe me about this?”

Steven opened his mouth. He closed it.

He couldn’t help it - he hunched his shoulders, clutching at his sleeve and drawing away. “I don’t have friends. You’re lying.”

“Call up Layla and ask,” Jean-Paul said. His voice was even and steady, and it struck Steven oddly. The man was literally in a jail cell about to be Egyptian tortured and he was comforting Steven? Looking out for him in a mental health episode? Did the world contain two Lukes? “Do you know Layla? Your wife? Now there’s a thief for you. I am but a humble pilot in comparison.”

That cinched it. Marc would never tell anybody he didn’t trust about Layla. Much less about what Layla really did for a living.

But Marc didn’t trust anybody. Marc wasn’t supposed to trust anybody. That was Marc’s whole thing. He only trusted Steven and Layla. He only trusted Steven and Layla and - Frenchie? What kind of nickname was that? That was so stupid.

Marc was really bad at naming things. Movie poster, pilfered ID. Frenchie. Jeez.

Steven put it down. He let his shoulders hunch back into their natural slouch, bent his voice back towards its natural tilt, and dropped the mean expression. Despite himself, he groaned. 

“Marc’s going to kill me!” Steven wailed. “He’s going to go to sleep again and leave me with Jake!”

Jean-Paul recoiled, surprise turning into shock. Wow, wow, big surprise. Marc or Jake’s friends freaking out over Steven. Stop the presses.

“He’s gonna blame me for this, you know,” Steven cried. Not whined. Nope. “This is why he doesn’t trust me with anything. As if it’s my fault that his friends keep getting arrested? Maybe I should get a little more recognition for being the only one without delinquent friends. Honestly, I don’t know why we can’t keep better company sometimes. A book club? A Dungeons and Dragons group? Anybody who doesn’t punch people for a living? Is that too much to ask?”

“Hm,” Jean-Paul said. “Your dissociative episodes have grown stranger.”

“What were they like in the military?” Steven asked, morbidly curious. “Marc didn’t even mention amnesia episodes. He can be right frustrating, you know.”

Slowly and carefully, Jean-Paul said, “Do you remember the manic episodes?”

“We’re bipolar?” Steven asked blankly.

“That is what I thought. I do not think I was correct.”

Wait. “Did you think Jake was a manic episode?”

“Jake?”

“The other one,” Steven said helpfully.

“Ah. Yes, I think so.” Jean-Paul paused - not as if he was uncertain, but as if he wasn’t sure how the words would be received. “I understand DID is a very difficult disorder.”

Something tugged at the back of Steven’s mind, then yanked. Steven felt himself fall backwards, and something else surged in him -

*

Frenchie stood in front of Marc, right in every way, wrong only in the eyes - only in the way he was looking at Marc - 

Cautiously, he said, “Steven? You look dazed.”

Dazed. That was what he’d always call it. Whenever Marc zoned out and left his body, whenever Frenchie caught him wandering listlessly around camp with no memory of having even left bed - you look dazed, Marc -

“Do you ever get tired of your front row seat?” Marc asked hoarsely.

But Frenchie just smiled - a little cockily, a little kindly. “The view is quite good.”

Marc couldn’t do this. He never could, he could never do anything - but he couldn’t do this. Humiliation crushed him, Frenchie’s affection and acceptance its strange shadow. The shadow was worse than the weight. It was the shadow he couldn’t handle. He couldn’t handle this. 

He turned on his heel and left, leaving Frenchie alone in the cell with no promise of rescue and no aid given, and he found himself walking faster until he turned the corner. The jackals were still huddled like a football team growling thoughtfully at each other, and they perked up when they recognized Marc. He ignored them, walking through the crowd until they leapt away.

Marc’s walk turned into a run. A drum beat rocked his head, pushing hard at his heart. The beat threw him forward, turning his run into a sprint down the winding cement halls. His desperation reached out and thought of a word, and once he thought it he just couldn’t stop.

Jake. Jake. Jake! Jake, I can’t do it again - Jake - !

*

Marc woke up face first in Jessica Jones’ hair clutching a bottle of Jack.

He yelped, jerking away automatically and falling off the couch with a heavy jolt. The bottle jumped out of its hands, landing on the stained wood coffee table with a heavy thump and rolling against a bulwark of beer bottles. 

Marc bolted upright, ignoring his pounding head to take inventory of his surroundings. He relaxed the second he registered where he was. Heroes For Hire apartment. Morning. Luke Cage was passed out in an armchair, sawing wood. Colleen’s bra was draped across the back of a couch. Did these people do anything other than party?

Jessica flopped over, squinting blearily at him in the morning light. Cars honked outside and traffic blared, the sound cutting harshly into his throbbing head. Jessica waved a hand limply at him. She mumbled something that Marc could somehow translate into ‘what’s your problem?’. 

Nothing. No problem. Not right now, not here. Marc climbed back onto the couch, pushing Jessica aside to reclaim his spot. Amazingly, they were barely even cuddling - their couch was one of those IKEA types that you could just keep adding onto, it was fucking ginormous. He left the bottle of Jack on the table, whiskey slowly sloshing in the glass. Jessica went back to sleep immediately, her warm breaths pressed against his back.

The sunlight faded into night, then nothing. 

*

“ - and that’s why I wouldn’t fuck Mr. Fantastic unless Sue Storm was watching.”

Marc bolted upright.

“I left Frenchie in prison!” Marc cried. 

“Man, what kind of weird dreams are you having?” Danny asked. Marc could hear his voice from behind the couch, accompanied by the rattle of silverware and the hefty scent of bacon. “I can interpret it for you if you want. The prison’s probably a metaphor for -”

“Your psyche,” Colleen intoned. 

“That’s a bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Luke said.

Marc rolled off the couch again, slouching his way to the breakfast table and collapsing in his chair. Somebody put a bowl of cereal in front of him and began shoving it in his mouth. Everybody went back to ignoring him and resumed their conversation about the most fuckable superheroes. 

“Monica Rambeau at the top,” Misty said, for what sounded like the five hundredth time. “Very top. Except my girlfriend.”

“I’m the last heir of a samurai clan, not a superhero.”

“Very top. Monica Rambeau.”

“Do you think the Avengers have these conversations about us?” Danny asked Luke. “Like, they have to, right? I don’t think they’re above it.”

“They have mimosa brunches. Man, you know they do. I don’t want to know what the hell they say about me.”

“One time Hawkeye flirted with me and I snapped his bow over my knee,” Jessica reported. “It’s about controlling the narrative, Luke.” Marc’s hand reached out and swiped bacon off her plate, cramming it into his mouth. “Watch it, asshole!”

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Luke told him, half-amused. “Who do we got today?” Marc glared at him balefully, but he held up the ASL finger sign ‘M’ anyway. “Good to see you, Marc. You’re the early bird, huh?”

“Jake was complaining about you yesterday,” Jessica told him gleefully, as if she was snitching on her classmate to the teacher for saying the b word. “He told us all about your intimacy issues. Is it true that you yearn for acceptance, yet are terrified of receiving it?��

“And why,” Marc gritted out between clenched teeth, holding his spoon at a vicious angle, “is Jake always telling you my goddamn business?”

“He likes to vent.”

“Then tell him to shut up next time.”

Misty scraped up eggs with her knife primly. “Five times a day seven days a week. Never listens.”

“Five people live in this apartment, there is no such thing as your own business,” Colleen said, dead-eyed. “I haven’t had privacy in a year.”

“It’s not that different from the monastery,” Danny said philosophically. “Smaller, though.”

“Drunker?” Misty asked.

“Not really.”

“Damn. Guess you had to do something without television.”

Marc’s grip on his spoon tightened so hard that his bones creaked. “Then you can just go tell Jake -”

Tell me yourself. 

“Shut up, Jake! You can all tell Jake that next time he decides to overshare -” Hissy fit ten minutes after waking up, new record. “I wouldn’t throw a hissy fit if you stopped doing shit just to piss me off!” You are an egomaniac. “That is so rich.”

“Still weird,” Misty decreed. 

“Yeah, still weird,” Colleen said.

Luke cut into his hash brown. “I’m just glad that they’re all talking again.”

“Totally glad that Jake’s back to his healthy, regular state of talking to himself,” Colleen said. “Maybe soon he’ll become normal and only serial kill on weekends.”

“I know none of you care about my personal drama,” Jake said flatly, “but would a little respect be so outta line for youse?” Jessica mumbled something around her egg. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, woman, have some self-respect.”

“Steven and I were talking about going to the zoo and looking at the sloths,” Danny said brightly. “Do you still want to do that? I want to see them so bad. All we have back home are sloth bears but I don’t think they’re the same animal.”

“Sloth bears?” Misty asked.

“They mostly eat termites and ants, really,” Steven told her, “not nearly as scary as you’re imagining. Quite adorable. But nothing really beats sloths on the cuteness factor.”

“Steven! Good to catch you. When do you want to go to the zoo?”

“Oh, boy, maybe Sunday? Do we have anything on Sunday?”

I was going to get drunk.

Same. 

“Looks like Sunday’s free!” Steven paused a beat, a smile fixed on his face. “You know, fellas, I can’t help but feel as if we’ve forgotten something.”

We forget stuff incessantly, Marc said, tired. Frenchie was always dragging me out of bars I didn’t remember walking inside. 

There’s an alternate explanation for that one.

See, that’s what I thought, but Frenchie never thought so.

“Frenchie!” Steven cried. He jerked onto his feet, sending his plate rattling. “We left Frenchie in prison!”

Danny reached out and patted Steven on the forearm. “It’s okay, Steven. It was just a dream. The French can’t hurt you.”

“Not if they’re in prison, anyway,” Misty said.

Luke, the only one who ever remotely was on topic, put down his fork and looked at Steven. “Who’s Frenchie? Since when do you know other people?”

“He’s my best friend,” Marc said. He scrambled away from the table, faintly registering that he was wearing Jake’s outfit. He and Steven had their own changes of clothes in the guest bedroom, he’d have to take a minute and change. They hated wearing each other’s clothing. It felt so invasive. Jake hated polyester, Marc hated wool, and Steven hated layers in non-freezing temperatures. “Damn it, what kind of friend am I!”

Jessica squinted at him, sipping her orange juice. “Wait, you have other friends? I thought we were your only friends.”

“He’s my friend, not Jake’s. You’re Jake’s friends.”

“I’m not Jake’s friend,” Misty said.

“Jake’s my friend but I don’t like him,” Colleen said. 

“Jake’s my friend and I like him,” Danny said eagerly.

“No comment,” Luke said.

But Jessica just continued squinting at him - as if she could read something between their three faces, unremarkable individually but painting a clear picture together. “This is what stressed you out so bad yesterday, yeah?” Marc shoved the chair back into the table, averting his eyes. “Why don’t I come with you? Like, buffer zone?”

A part of Marc did want her to come. He didn’t know if that part was Jake or Steven or himself. He never knew where to put himself anymore, how to partition out his life into the good and bad. How to fit together Jake and Layla, how to give Steven the reins on the courthouse work, how to fit into the Heroes For Hire in a space carved for Jake yet welcoming of anybody. 

It was so easy. It scared Marc. 

“I can handle my own army buddy,” Marc said gruffly. He bent down and kissed Jessica on the cheek. “I’ll call.”

Marc swept out the door, ignoring Jessica calling “You better!” behind him.

[tsukiakurotori]

I might be a little late but...if I may... *carefully presents my two current wolships, then hides* 🥺

Tsukia and Haurchefant-

They enjoy cuddling, once Tsukia is comfortable and used to the physical contact. She comes to feel safe with him, so will often be trying to have her activities such as reading be near him. Sometimes her tail will even subconsciously curl around him when they are together without her noticing. 🤭

Bonus (a future little snippet of them):

Morning had dawned. But Tsukia was still sleeping. And he… He didn’t have the heart to wake her. The paperwork could wait. As she snuggled closer, seeking warmth, he brought her into his arms, wrapping the blankets tighter around them. She gave a contented sigh, relaxing deeper into slumber. The smile that appeared on his face couldn’t be contained as he gazed at her fondly.  Gently nuzzling the top of her head, Haurchefant decided that he would sleep in this morning as well. Taiki gave a quiet huff as he stared at the two from his bed on the floor. The hoarhound pup settled back down as well, curled into a ball. All was quiet in the Commander’s quarters, though all others were already bustling through their morning routines.  It wasn’t long before some started wondering where Lord Haurchefant was, unused to him being absent at this hour. There were a few who could only give each other knowing looks before going about their business. 

Safianne and Estinien-

These two are still pretty new to me as a ship, but... Currently, I would have to say that they enjoy training and adventuring together. 🤔 Safianne may be a Sage, but she trained as a Lancer in Gridania when she was young before then, so Estinien ends up teaching her the ways of a Dragoon while they are getting closer and learning about each other. Though initially baffled by it, I think Estinien also enjoys when she randomly falls asleep against him, feeling safe enough to let her guard down, and when she shares her travel snacks with him or specially makes some for him. 🤭💕 I think they both enjoy the playfulness that comes out during a good sparring match between the two however.

Considering one of the things she did during their initial interactions was kicking a lance up off the ground to single-handedly point it at him... This moody Sage is undaunted by his grump. 🤣

I love them a lot with just the few snippets I have so far. 😭💕 She's so willing to do anything to protect him, even at great cost to herself, as she is unwilling to stand by and lose him like she did her parents. Not when she has the power to change things this time.

For the sake of protecting anyone she gets into a relationship with, Saf wasn’t one to make obvious displays of affection, such as kissing or holding hands in front of others. It was to save them from being targeted by anyone after her. But it becomes different with Estinien.🥺

*realizes how much ranting I've been doing* ...Oops. Apologies for the length. I shall make myself scarce now. Hopefully, this brought you even just a tiny bit of enjoyment. 😅🥺💕

Throwing this out there as a wolqotd -

Could I get some wolships in here and what’s their favorite activity together? 🫣

[themuseofaphrodite]

i know the end ✧ AKA12

summary: you might be a famous blogger with thousands of adoring fans, but the vicious crowd of dissenters never truly go away. after a particularly rude and inflammatory comment is posted under your page, you decide to end it all. until your boyfriend, formula one driver kimi antonelli, finds out.

trigger warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of self-harm & suicidal thoughts, description of low self-esteem & body image, statements of body-shaming & fat-shaming, descriptions of misogyny, suggestive & mature content

note: phrases and sentences in the italian language are utilized throughout; keep a translator accessible

word count: 1.5k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Outside your apartment in the heart of Monaco, the sky was inky black, the full moon like a ghostly white face. It was half past midnight, and Kimi still hadn’t arrived home after his daily simulation practice for Formula One. You shoved back your annoyance, knowing that the neglect was for a reason. He was working hard, earning his seat in Mercedes, weaving a legacy that would last long after his career ended. So what if it meant there were a few late nights? It would all be worth it in the end.

You had important work too, and he had never asked you to sacrifice it for him. There had been many schedule conflicts, photoshoots in Milan when Kimi had a Grand Prix in Spa, or when you had an important interview the same day as Kimi’s first Monaco race. Kimi had never complained, never acted upset, making it all the more worse for you that you felt so aggrieved.

You stood up from the couch, turning the television off from the news channel that had been droning and deciding to doomscroll on Instagram instead. Your profile popped up, notifications overflowing with hearts and comments from your fans telling you how much they loved you.

Amidst all these replies, though, something snagged your eye.

“She’s only famous because she sucks Kimi Antonelli’s dick.”

Underneath it, the same person had added, “Fat whore. I hope she chokes on his dick and dies. It would put us all out of our misery.”

Already, there were dozens of defensive retorts from your fans, shaming them for their crude and horrible statements.

Tears welled in your eyes, panic choking you like a vise.

You zoomed into the last photo you had posted, analyzing your waist and the shape of your body. You were wearing Kimi’s blue Mercedes jersey, his number 12 insignia glowing on your shoulders. They were right; you were fat and ugly.

Maybe that’s why Kimi was coming home so late. He didn’t want to see you more than he had to.

You threw your phone across the room, shuddering and clenching your stomach as nausea roiled through you. You fought not to vomit, tears rolling down your face and dripping down on the floor beside you.

Fuck.

You steadied yourself, wiping the wetness off of your cheeks and shakily getting up from where you were huddled. A few wobbly steps towards the kitchen and you were getting a glass of cold, refreshing water.

That was all. Nothing else.

The utensil drawer had carelessly been kept open, probably by Kimi. He was not a neat person, always getting distracted halfway through tasks. You stepped closer to it, your eyes laser-focused on the jagged shape of the carving knife.

It was perfect for what you needed, and your fingers twitched to pick it up and feel its cool glossiness glide over your skin. You wanted to end it all, right here and right now. Everything you had strived for was fruitless, there was no point in prolonging it any more.

Kimi would be distraught, but he was strong, he would move on. There were hundreds of other women that would be clamoring to assume your spot as his girlfriend. He would have no problem finding a new partner to pleasure himself with.

That’s all you were to him, a warm body to tuck himself into, a vessel for sex. That person on Instagram knew, it was so glaringly obvious that it was only a matter of time before everyone else realized. You were a fraud, and the best way to save Kimi was to cease this now.

The knife felt like a respite in the crook of your fingers. It was heaven against the rapidly fluttering pulse, and even more so once you dragged it —

“Princesa!”

You let out a loud gasp, the knife clattering to the wooden floor with an obnoxious metallic sound. A few pinpricks of crimson blood beaded on your skin, obscuring the pale purple veins of your forearm. That voice was so familiar.

Kimi.

He was home, and he had witnessed your attempt. New tears flowed down your face as he rushed towards you, enveloping your body in his arms, murmuring words of comfort and clearing away your distress. “I’m so sorry, mia bellisima amore.” Kimi pressed a kiss to your forehead, finally unraveling himself from you and hurrying to blot the blood with a paper towel. “I’m going to get a bandage for you, and then we’re going to talk about this, OK?”

You nodded, unable to make words move past your lips. Kimi watched you for a moment longer and then quickly entered the bathroom to grab bandages for you. When he came back, an audible breath of relief left his mouth when he saw that you were still intact.

“Give me your arm, princesa.” You obeyed, trance-like, and Kimi gingerly wrapped up your wrist, his eyes trained on you the whole time. Once you were finished, he carefully tugged you to the couch, his focus straying for one second when he noticed your phone laying halfway across the room. “What happened, amore?”

You swallowed roughly. “It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” Kimi assured you. “I want to know, even if you think it is ridiculous. You are the love of my life.”

You smiled up at him, although it was fake. Both of you knew that it was just a front you put up, to disguise the fact that your inner self was breaking. “Someone…commented on my social media,” you began. “Saying that my fame is only because I —” Breaking off, a shiver coursed through you, and Kimi tightened his hold on you. “I suck your dick.”

Kimi’s eyes widened, and he barked out a laugh. “We don’t do that. They’re wrong.”

“But they aren’t.” You pursed your lips, shaking your head sadly. “My fame is mostly attributed to you. Ever since it was leaked that you and I were dating, my popularity soared. People only pay attention to me because of my connection to you.”

“That’s a lie,” Kimi shot back, his teeth gritted.

“No, it’s not,” you responded. “And you know it. Why else would they stick around if it wasn’t for the tidbits of you I give out? Everyone loves you, Kimi. They only tolerate me because of you.”

Kimi jerked his head back, his jaw clenching in frustration and anger. “Y/N, stop it. They love you for you, your bubbly personality and kindness. Do you really honestly think that they care about you only because of me? That’s a fucking lie, Y/N. You’re so much better than I could ever be, and you cannot try to convince yourself otherwise.”

You angled your gaze up to him. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Some testa di cazzo on the Internet doesn’t know shit about you and me. They are just trying to get a reaction out of you, they are purposely hurting you when there is no truth to any of their claims.” Kimi’s fingers caressed your cheek. “Your company is what keeps me going. Your support means the world to me, more than a thousand trophies or Grand Prix wins. You are the love of my life, and if I have to tattoo it on my forehead for you to understand, then I will. Understood?”

You watched him with bated breath the duration of the speech, and when he was finished, you said, “If you say so, Kimi.”

“You are perfect. Your body is fucking ethereal. God created you perfectly, and I am blessed that I get to worship you every night in bed. I could only wish to look half as beautiful as you do.” Kimi kissed you on the forehead. “That coglione doesn’t know what they are talking about.”

You bit your bottom lip, still not saying anything.

“I’m going to find that comment and report its user, as well as issue a whole post reprimanding them and people like them.” Kimi took his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through your profile until he found the comment. He sucked in a breath. “That is fucked up, amore. I’m so sorry.”

You saw him report the comment and type up a long paragraph on his story, and then publish it. Turning to you, Kimi said, “Now, I’m going to prove to you just how much I love your body. OK?”

You granted him permission, and with one fluid motion, Kimi tugged your blouse off, unclasping your bra and kissing the swell of your breasts as he undid your skirt. “Fucking perfect,” he growled, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves so quickly you thought he might be magnetically attuned to it. Your eyes closed, a moan breaking through your lips. “I love you so much, princesa.”

Two hours later, spent tangled up in one another, you knew that truer words had never been spoken.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Been thinking a lot as of late about the fandom take that Hiccup actually should hold a grudge against his village for the way he was treated. This is the "hold a grudge" website, so I'm not surprised and neither is this post about telling you that you're wrong to feel this way. If I was raised the way Hiccup was, outcasted to the point that I start to make friends with the enemy, I would be angry, too!

But holding a grudge just isn't in Hiccup's nature. And I think there is no bigger proof than his incredibly deep bond with Toothless.

Because even ignoring Httyd 2 for a moment, the first movie also hints at Valka dying to dragons.

The dragon raids are the only mentioned outside threat before they learn about the Red Death. And with Stoick gifting Hiccup a helmet made of his mother's breast plate (which are not supposed to be boob-shaped, believe it or not) when he thinks his son does surprisingly well in dragon training, that could be another one of those hints.

Hiccup will be facing dragons after training instead of being hidden in the forge for his own safety (while helping to contribute like the other teens) so it makes sense to me that Valka's death was always meant to be at the claws of dragons and Stoick is trying to prevent that now that it's become a reality that Hiccup might actually face dragons in the very near future.

There is no other threat spoken about in the first movie. Hiccup's mother was always killed by dragons. She's missing from his life because Toothless' kind took him away from her. If Hiccup were to be angry at his village for the way he was treated, he should also be angry at dragons for taking away the one person who could've been unconditionally on his side. Like mothers are supposed to be.

But Hiccup isn't angry at dragons. As a matter of fact, when he gets up close to one, has one completely at his mercy, he doesn't hate Toothless. And this is before he even realizes that there's more to them than fire breathing, home-destroying, food-stealing, man-eating creatures from Hell.

Instead of being angry, he sees Toothless for who he is. A living being just as complex as he is. Capable of fear, of curiosity, of forgiveness, of remorse, of love. And Hiccup wasn't kept from seeing this because anger for having his mother taken from him didn't blind him.

The same can be said about Mildew, who gets the dragons in trouble again and again. But at the end of RoB, Hiccup still decides to put his trust in him to get them both (and Toothless) home.

And Dagur, who started a whole war over being betrayed by Hiccup, which gives him a grudge for three whole years that leaves him filled with revenge until Viggo gives him a sudden change of perspective that leads to months of introspection. It takes a little while, but Hiccup doesn't just accept him as a friend, but accepts Dagur's offer to be found brothers.

He should hold a grudge against Heather. Who played on his kindness to get Alvin the Book of Dragons and then seemingly played him again in RttE, when he lets her stay on Dragon's Edge and the very next time they see her, she's working for the Hunters. Who come into their lives by leaving Astrid to die stranded in the middle of the ocean and abducting Stormfly. With only Astrid learning that Heather is actually spying on them with Hiccup not learning about this fact until much later. (Something very clearly hurts him, but even being left out of the loop he forgives Astrid and Heather for.)

Alvin canonically held Hiccup and Toothless captive for days, barely giving Toothless any food or water. Hiccup literally states that in the first episode of DoB.

And while they don't show it in the show itself, in the very first episode afterwards, Hiccup is trying to prepare his 14 and 15 year old friends for interrogation. Clearly something in that two-parter spooked him enough to do something as drastic as this.

But at the end of DoB, Hiccup still chooses trust Alvin to help rescue Stoick and get Outcast Island back from Dagur. An alliance was forged. One strong enough that when Stoick gets gravely injured in RttE, Alvin can be trusted to come in and help out around Berk.

The closest Hiccup comes to holding a grudge is with Viggo. The first person to ever make Hiccup feel like an idiot, make him feel frustrated that he can't get immediately out on top like he did with all his previous villains. He spends literal months trying to find Viggo just to get back at him, dragging all his friends and his dragons down with him. But even that doesn't last.

Not with both Dagur as well as Stoick advising him against harboring feelings of vengeance. Dagur warns Hiccup against how the need for vengeance can change a person. Stoick warns Hiccup that revenge can lead to an endless cycle of violence, explicitly telling his son that he's telling him this out of experience. They don't want Hiccup to be lead astray and hurt by holding and acting on grudges.

There is the potential for Drago, which the comics did try to get into until a certain comic got cancelled and left us with that story unresolved. For newer fans who don't yet know this; Hiccup was actually meant to experience a downward spiral in the comics that take place after Httyd 2. Except the comic that would've concluded this storyline got canceled around the time of THW's release. Probably because THW confirms that Drago is dead while the canceled comic actually had Hiccup face Drago again, the man in hiding after his defeat. Release The Fire Tides!

This entire post just to say... A grudge would've been justified, but Hiccup just doesn't have it in him to hold onto one. Certainly not forever.

[myreallovelymind]

Friday Date Night

We matched the day after Christmas. He’s different than other guys. He texts me in the morning, he asked me out pretty early, gave me a date and planned the whole night for us. He was up North in England over the holidays so I had to wait a week.

A week is both good and bad. More time to chat but also, I was worried both of us were going to imagine someone in our heads and be disappointed by the other when we actually met.

He gave me a restaurant to meet at. A dumpling place in China Town. He got us a pre-theatre menu where you get two baskets of dim sum and a cocktail. I look up the place, it looks pretty basic but he might know that the dumplings are amazing!

Turns out, right before I leave, he tells me we aren’t going there but he wanted to surprise me with where we were actually going. Surprises are both fun and not fun for me. So I do some investigating and figure out where we are actually going. Super stalker, I know!

I turn up, he’s all wrapped up because it’s cold but he has a hot man bun! We get up, I’m nervous. I want him to like me but I want to like him! I don’t believe in masking and pretending I’m someone I’m not so I’m just me. A little silly and weird but me.

We chat and eat. The drinks are great! Mid way through, he realises I’m quite competitive and tells me that he wants to see me again and if I did to, he had an idea for our second date. Clear communication or what??

I’m very dry in my humour so tell him absolutely not and I’m having an awful awful time. We have another drink and then he tells me he has more planned. He doesn’t tell me where we go which causes me stress but it’s quite fun. The meal was like 100 quid and he just pays. I feel bad but it’s also kinda hot.

He takes me to this Irish pub which is in a chapel. It’s really cool! We get two baby Guinness (which I had never had)and he orders me a whiskey & ginger beer. I insist on paying because equality, which I know he really appreciates (brownie points for me). It’s super busy and loud so we have to stand. That’s when I know I want him to kiss me or touch me.

I’ve said it before but my body tells me if I like someone or not. If I want them to touch me, especially in public, I know I fancy them. So I lean in a little and we laugh and drink. It’s so loud, so he decides we should go to stop #3.

It’s a fun gay bar. We get hot toddy’s and sit outside. We talk about our lives. The good and bad parts. Our knees are touching and he sometimes strokes my thigh with his hands. I’m getting really turned on. He chat until midnight and that’s when we get kicked out.

He likes to plan and the plan got derailed because he expected them to be open until later. I see him panic and asks me if I want to still hang out as he doesn’t want this to end. I obviously agree. So we end up going to a Jazz bar which is quite famous in London. There’s a long queue but he tells me we can cut in. He is a member so gets free entry for us.

It’s amazing there. We get more amazing cocktails and we get a seat. We are right next to each other and our legs are touching. We listen to some great music and chat some more. Then he tells me he wants to kiss me. He puts his hand onto my cheek and we kiss.

He can kiss! I find it’s either great and I want more. Or I know I don’t want to see them again. I also hate PDA but I want him to kiss me. We chat, watch and kiss periodically. We stay there until 2/3 am! Then he says he doesn’t fuck on a first date but he would love to keep chatting to me if I wanted to come over. I say only if we can continue kissing.

We get an Uber to his place where he lives alone which is always hot for some reason. I genuinely don’t think he expected to invite me back because his place isn’t spotless. It’s messy but not dirty. He makes me a tea and we chat about music as he put different tiny desk sets on TV.

We make out a lot. I’m straddling him as we kiss. Dry humping like virgin teenagers. I can see the conflict in his eyes but I keep telling him there’s absolutely no pressure from me. I’m teasing but I respect his boundaries. We get to bed at 5 am after chatting. He gives me a t shirt and honestly, getting changed in front of him freaks me out a little. It’s so much more vulnerable than being undressed mid sex.

I get into his bed and we cuddle. I never stay over. Since starting dating, I’ve done it two individual times. That’s it. We cuddle and before you know it, I’m straddling him and we keep kissing. He asks me if I wanted to fuck as he needs me. I say yes. I jump off and he gets a condom. I ride him. Fuck he feels good. He says he’s worried about finishing too soon as he’s still quite drunk. I don’t care. Never have. The tease of just a few minutes of being filled feels amazing. Probably linked to the denial. But he lasts. He’s grabbing my hips and I’m grinding.

I never quite realise I’m loud. I don’t fake, I just feel. He tells me I need to be quiet so he puts his hand on my mouth. I grab his hand. I love it. Then he asks me if I want I be gagged. Yes please. He gags me and I look at him. He tells me how hot I look and we just look into each others eyes.

He is getting close as I get lost in it. He holds onto my hips and cums hard. I collapse. We hug to sleep.

He comes cuddle me at 8:30 am. 2/3 hours after we sleep. We kiss a little and then it gets more and more intense.

Before you know it, I’m on all fours and he’s fucking me. He says I look way too hot and he’s going to cum. Quick fuck but again, I love it.

We cuddle. He orders us Mc Donald’s in bed. We go into the living room. I’m just wearing his t shirt with no underwear as they are soaked. I am super dehydrated and hangover so I’m not as wet as normal but it’s still wetter than the average gal as he mentions it.

We eat and watch TV all morning. I need to leave in 45 minutes but I need another fuck. I get back into bed and 10 minutes before I need to leave, I start kissing him. He fucks me from behind, pulling my hair and holding me. It feels amazing. Then, he tells me to ride him and calls me a good girl. I get so close to cumming, I need him to stop. He hasn’t quite understood denial or the extent that I need it. He tells me he would like me to cum but it’s okay if i don’t want to. I shake my head no, and we keep fucking. He’s getting close and I beg him to cum. It’s raw and sweaty and hot. He feels amazing. He cums, I jump off and get ready to leave. I make a joke about doing a shag and dash!

He kisses me goodbye before I run off to go meet my friends.

He likes me, I like him and he’s invited me to watch the NFL tonight at his ✌️

[readngandweepng]

some writing practice for eagle flies. top reader ftm eagle flies 

since i’m not that confident at getting his personality down yet i’m going to call this self indulgent to excuse anything ooc lmao. short scenes with unprotected sex btw

there's just something about eagle flies with his hair down. him straddling your hips as he looks down at you with a look on his face that almost reads like he's challenging you. he looks so pretty with his hair falling perfectly into place but when you try and reach up to run your fingers through it he grabs your wrist and holds it above your head. he likes to lean down and graze his lips against yours, just barely allowing them to touch. he releases your wrist to run his hand down your arm until it rests on your stomach. he can feel you beneath him where he grinds himself against you, giving you just enough pleasure to get you hooked before he leans down once more to whisper something in your ear and finally getting up off you to go god knows where, leaving you alone on the ground with a quickened pulse and images of him circling round in your head. eagle flies would be a tease like that just because he likes the attention you give him. if he doesn’t randomly straddle you or grind his hips or his hand against your crotch when the opportunity arises he’ll be more subtle, playing with his hair in a way that mimics the way you might grip it or moving it aside to show his spotless neck. he just wants to get you to a point where you’ll wrap your arms around him to pin him in place and just take him. he doesn’t care where or how it happens as long as you rough him up a little. as stubborn as he can be he does love being put in his place by you.

god imagine him with his legs on either side of yours as he tilts your head up to kiss you. you run your hands up and down his sides, squeezing his waist and wherever else he'll let you touch. eventually he undoes your belt, and while his kisses are rough his grip is somewhat tender. he'll tease you, twisting his wrist as he works his hand up and down your dick. if he wanted to he could very well make you come undone in just a matter of mere minutes but he decides not to, instead opting to quickly remove the rest of his clothing and sitting himself down onto you. you slide in easy with eagle flies, and even though he appears stoic his cunt clenches around you on instinct following a soft sigh leaving his mouth. he rides you slow at first, rolling his hips with hard-earned expertise until he's using your shoulders as leverage to bounce himself on your cock. his eyes are shut tight like he’s already losing it, and though you’re tempted to make a comment you know better not to. for a while he lets you have your fun running your hands up his body and using his waist to roll him onto your cock, but eventually he pushes you down onto your back, the look in his eyes screaming, touch me and you won’t be cumming for a long time.

“won’t even humor me?” you ask, giving him a knowing smile. you buck your hips and he holds you down in response, a fleeting smirk plays on his lips as he speaks. “you haven’t earned it yet,” it makes you groan and he revels in it. he circles his hips and watches your every move. his arms rest his side as he tilts his head to admire the sight of your cock being swallowed by his cunt. your cock slips out of him for a second and he chuckles at the hiss you make. he sits on your cock again, but this time he doesn’t move. he leans over so his breath tickles your face, and only when he sees your eyes dart to his lips does he begin rocking into you again, keeping you deep inside him. in the corner of his eyes eagle flies can see your hands twitching where they rest beside you. he raises his hips to the tip of your cock before gliding back down, releasing a shaky breath from you. your hands itch to touch him but you stay still for your sake, letting him leisurely take your cock in and out of his tight cunt. he grunts when he adjusts to balance himself on your chest, using you to bounce himself with ease. slowly he unravels, his eyes haze over and he lets out soft moans as he uses your cock. your hands are at your head now, grabbing at the grass above you and trying not to buck up into him at the sight of him tilting his head back and spreading his legs as far as they’ll let him. eagle flies rides you until you cum before lifting himself off. some of your cum dribbles down his thigh and he smiles down at you, the light from the stars and moon cascading down upon him like an angel. it was early in the night, at least early enough that eagle flies was determined to keep you up a little longer as evidenced by the sight of his dripping pussy staring at you in the face, a silent demand to start getting to work.

the thought of being in a relationship with eagle flies where he feels like being with you is somehow rebelling against his father sounds really hot. like the "climbing into your boyfriend's window in the middle of the night without his parents knowing" kind of relationship where you have to be discrete, even when eagle flies will waltz around with obvious bruises on his neck and shoulders just for the thrill of it anyway. he’d get off on having to sneak out to meet with you, or even just sneaking you into the reservation and risking the chance of getting caught. it’s funny because his dad most likely wouldn’t have a problem with you but eagle flies still insists you mark him up, biting and sucking on his neck and getting his clothes all disheveled so when he returns home people (his dad) will notice. obviously he isn’t only with you to ‘rebel’ against his father, but it’s one of those things he loves to indulge in anyway. when you do officially meet rains fall, eagle flies’ cockiness tones down a bit and having sex together becomes a little softer without the need to rough each other up, even when he is actually into that. he loves being pressed close to you under the night sky in the middle of some field or camped out in an abandoned cabin where you two can just be alone together.

dry-humping with eagle flies after some sort of lustful power struggle where you have him pinned on his back with his hands above his head. he'd snuck off to find you, greeting you with a heavy kiss before you found yourselves on the ground, first with him looking down at you from in your lap and now after all the scuffling you rest between his legs with your clothed cock rutting against him. he’s impatient like usual, attempting to lift his hips up to get more friction. he huffs when you press him down, keeping him pinned under your weight. you kiss his neck and the feeling, to his chagrin, makes his legs open wider on their own. “i spoil you too much.” he grumbles, and you have to bite your tongue to not retort the statement. you hike up one of his legs and you can hear him holding in a groan as you continue grinding against him.

he can feel how hard you are, and if his pants were any thinner you would surely be able to feel how damp he was. his face is turned to the side where you can’t see his expressions, but you can tell that he’s feeling good by the way his hips faintly swirl to match your rhythm. a moan catches the both of you by surprise and his hips stop for a second so he can move his hands down to your belt. you chuckle at his impatience and he sends you a half-hearted glare. by the time you’ve unbuckled your belt he’s undressed and spread out for you until he loops his legs around your waist to pull you forward. he’s never been good at saying please but still you give him what he wants, sliding your cock into him until your hips meet. for a second he’s speechless, his head lolls back and his stomach caves as he takes you to the hilt. slowly you start to move, earning a sweet moan from eagle flies. he holds on to your shoulders as you thrust into him, his legs now having fallen from your waist to rest against the ground as best as they can before they shoot up again when your cock hits a spot inside of him that has him shaking. he moans again, and this time they just keep coming as you lift his hips up and pound him. he helplessly grasps at the grass beneath him but he can’t doing anything except arch his back and moan. over the sound of slapping skin he cries out your name, his orgasm coursing through him causing you to cum alongside him.

you fill him and soon after he collapses from your hold, his entire body going limp. inside him your cock twitches at the sight of him, his head falls to the side as his hair beautifully frames his face. his chest rises and falls as he catches his breath, and he doesn’t even have the energy to give you one in return when you lean down to place a kiss on his cheek. when you pull out of him it’s like the weight of the world just fell from his shoulders, eagle flies’ legs shake as they fall open into place, and if he hadn’t been so completely fucked out you would have offered to take him again just from the sight of your cum gushing out from his cunt. instead you lay down beside him, throwing an arm over him and giving kisses to his exposed neck and shoulder. he stirs, turning his head to catch your lips. your groan breaks the kiss as eagle flies strokes your cock, with a sparkle in his eye he says, “again.” he knows you won’t say no, not when he looks so pretty and certainly not with the way his hand works your length. “and you spoil me, you said?” he kisses you before you can say anything more and lifts his leg up over your waist to slip you back into him. eagle flies takes everything you give him and more, so why would you ever deny him? even when he’s dripping with your cum he only wants more more more. he loves being filled to the brim, and though becoming pregnant isn’t exactly ideal, he can’t help the rush he gets just from thinking about the sheer possibility. 

[fushigurokogane]

~Yuji Itadori Headcannons~

Im pretty sure yall loved my megumi headcannons so I made some for our KIRBYY!! <333

~ Yuji is your biggest cheerleader. Whether you’re dealing with a tough mission or having a bad day, he’ll always be there to hype you up and remind you of how strong and amazing you are

~ Yuji is naturally funny without even trying. His goofy smile and infectious laugh make even the most stressful days feel lighter. He’s constantly cracking jokes, even if it’s at his own expense.

~ Yuji is always looking for snacks, and he’s constantly offering you whatever he's eating. He’ll give you the last piece of cake or the last bite of ramen with a big grin on his face, even if it’s his favorite.

~ Yuji’s love language is definitely touch. He’s always throwing an arm around you, giving you piggyback rides, or pulling you into a tight hug after a long day. He loves to be close to you.

~ While he’s generally laid-back, when you’re in danger or in a tough situation, Yuji switches into full protective mode. He’ll go to any lengths to make sure you’re safe—even if it means putting himself in harm’s way.

~ He’s always down for spontaneous activities. Whether it’s deciding to take a walk, challenge you to a sparring match, or even go on a random road trip, Yuji is the kind of boyfriend who loves to live in the moment and bring excitement to your life.

~ After a long day, Yuji is always looking forward to curling up with you. He’ll make the most random comments, but it’s clear he’s just enjoying the comfort of being close to you. He’ll play with your hair or rest his head on your lap while watching TV.

~ Yuji can be very open and direct with you, sometimes to the point of being hilariously blunt. Whether it’s about his feelings or something random, he’s never afraid to speak his mind.

~ Despite his laid-back personality, Yuji is fiercely protective. If anyone hurts you or threatens you, he’ll immediately step up, no questions asked, to defend you. He’d do anything to keep you safe.

~ Yuji admires your strength and courage. If you’re a sorcerer or just face difficult situations, he’ll encourage you to be your best. He’s the type of boyfriend who never downplays your abilities and wants to see you succeed.

~ Sometimes he’s a bit dense, but he always tries his best to listen when you need to talk about something serious. Yuji might not always know what to say, but his genuine care and patience show that he’s trying to understand and be there for you.

~ From bringing you your favorite drink after a long day to leaving sweet notes in your bag, Yuji loves making you feel special in little ways. He doesn’t need grand gestures to show he cares, because it's the small moments that count.

~ Yuji loves a good competition, whether it's a race, a game, or a casual bet. He'll challenge you to everything, from eating contests to who can do more push-ups, all in good fun, of course.

~ Despite his goofy nature, Yuji can be surprisingly thoughtful when it comes to planning special dates or surprises. He might not be great at romance in the traditional sense, but he’ll put a lot of thought into what would make you happy.

~ Under all the goofiness and bravado, Yuji is incredibly soft-hearted when it comes to you. He might tease you a lot, but his heart belongs to you, and he’s always thinking of ways to make you smile.

~ Yuji respects your independence but is still there when you need him. He’ll give you the space you need, but you always know that he's just a call away if you need him.

~ Yuji deeply values your opinion. He’ll often check in with you to see if you’re proud of him, especially after a difficult task or fight. His ultimate goal is to be someone who can make you smile with pride.

~ When you give him compliments, especially about his looks or strength, he gets a little flustered and tries to hide it with a goofy grin or a funny comment. But deep down, he appreciates every single word.

~ Yuji will do everything he can to help you out of tough spots, whether it’s literally protecting you in battle or just supporting you through difficult emotional moments. He loves feeling like your hero, but he also loves that you don’t need saving.

~ Yuji loves taking pictures together, often snapping silly selfies and making faces. He’ll send them to you throughout the day just to make you smile, and sometimes, the sillier the picture, the better.

HEELLOOO MY LOVVEESS~!! I hope you guys enojoyyedd~ Yuji is literally my spirt animal, that ray of sunshine that keeps me going!! I recently just opened my first blog and i just wanna say THANK YOUU FOR ALL THIS SUPPORT!! My megumi headcannons (my first post) got over 50 notes!! I LOVE YOU ALL SMM <3333 have a great day my loves~ bai baiii!! love, ✭ Nika ✭