#just sort of vaguely insinuated

[hollowdeath]

Hello, I was wondering if it'd be possible for you to do an enemies to lovers with Harry Potter (with smut)? I feel like since Harry's life has been focused on Voldemort, he hasn't had a lot of time to think about things like crushes, and he's only had a couple of girlfriends here and there, but he's never felt such strong feelings for someone like y/n, so he deals with them by having a disliking towards her. (maybe he has a breeding kink? 🙏🙏) Maybe she's dracos sister? I dunno, all I know is that your fanfics are beautifully written, and you are my FAV tumblr author. Thank you ❤️

hi! thank you so much for requesting! you are so so sweet, i appreciate it so much <3 i had a lotttt of fun writing this one, i hope you like it!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!slytherin!reader (18+)

summary: harry becomes infatuated with you, draco malfoy's little sister, whom he's extremely protective over. though harry's confusion when it came to you lead him to hating you for several years, he eventually sees who you truly are, and loves what he finds.

c/w: mostly angst/fluff, slow burn, some smut at the end (oral & penetrative sex with some minor breeding kink). and, of course, briefly edited, all lowercase, not exactly book/movie/canon accurate, you know me !

word count: 14.6k (i'm so sorry)

a/n: soo i kinda ran with the draco's sister plot line lol. i actually had 2 other requests that also asked for a slytherin reader, so i tried to make it all in one! i hope everyone enjoys!

it wasn't until year 2 that harry learned draco actually had a little sister who would now be attending hogwarts with them. "how did you not know?" hermione had asked him, dumbfounded. "you've never heard someone mention [y/n] malfoy?"

harry tried to pay attention to hermione's questions, but he couldn't stop staring at you. you only vaguely looked like draco, maybe more so from certain angles, but there was something so completely different and unique about you. you carried yourself differently than draco. no constant sneer or narrowed eyes looking for trouble; instead, a soft smile, gentle touch, and nervous giggle. harry wasn't sure what to make of you. how could someone like you be related to such an evil pest like draco malfoy?

"blimey, harry, we're over here," ron whines, snapping his fingers in harry's face. harry looks back at his friends with guilt. "sorry, it's just, she doesn't seem related to draco," he says.

hermione makes a face. "i still wouldn't trust her regardless, the malfoys are nothing but evil trouble,"

harry glances back at you again, laughing with a few other first year girls waiting for the sorting hat.

it came as no surprise to anyone when you, a malfoy heir, were quickly sorted as a slytherin, their table erupting into cheers as you excitedly ran to a cheerful draco. harry remarked this as one of the first times he's seen draco actually look happy, a genuine grin plastered across his face as he gives you a big hug.

it almost feels wrong to see draco be affectionate with someone. harry's never seen someone make draco soften so much so quickly. as he's guiding you to sit next to him at the table, harry can actually hear him congratulating you. "see, i told you, nothing to worry about."

seeing him be so brotherly with you was so off putting it was almost upsetting to harry. if draco does have feelings, then why is he so awful to harry and his friends for no reason? and not just them, but to almost every student or professor? it just made no sense to him. harry hated hypocrites.

after the ceremony, harry's heading to the gryffindor common room when draco sharply cuts in front of him, standing nose to nose in the hallway.

draco looks harry up and down with a sneer. "i saw you staring at my baby sister, potter. try anything with her and you're dead."

harry's caught off guard but sneers back at draco, disgusted at his insinuation. "wasn't planning on it, draco. hermione's right, your family is nothing but trouble."

you come up behind draco, pulling on his robes softly. "draco," you say.

draco gives you one last warning look before taking you by the shoulders, guiding you away from harry. "let's go, [y/n]," he says with disgust.

as draco pulls you away, you swiftly turn over your shoulder and wave at harry with a big grin on your face. "hi, harry!" you call out excitedly before draco turns you around and walks you down the hallway quicker.

harry waves weakly. now he's really not sure what to think. draco is clearly protective of you and doesn't want you to even talk to harry. but you seem so kind and friendly, and harry can't deny how cute your smile is…

harry brushes off the situation, meeting ron and hermione at the top of the stairs where they were waiting for him. "what was that all about?" ron asked.

harry rolls his eyes. "nothing. can we just go?"

ron and hermione look at each other, a bit confused at harry's annoyance, but don't push him any further.

it's on this walk with ron and hermione that harry decides he hates you. as far as he's concerned, you're just another draco to him. he doesn't care if you seem nice, hermione's right - he can't trust you. not even for a second. not even if you look at him with those big beautiful eyes, that soft smile, your infectious giggle…no, harry hates you. and he hates draco. nothing's going to change that.

harry actually manages to not have another interaction with you until the beginning of 4th year, though that never stopped the longing stares between you two. harry often caught you attempting to talk to him, but always figured out a way around it to avoid you completely. he wasn't scared of draco's threat; harry knew he was serious but he wasn't afraid of draco. he simply had no desire to be around you, not even for a second.

mainly because he knew you could easily win him over if you wanted to.

harry had tried to deny it for over a year before he finally admitted to himself that fine, okay, maybe he does find [y/n] extremely pretty…but that doesn't have to mean anything. he still avoided you like the plague as draco continued to torment harry and his friends like normal.

at the beginning of fourth year, however, you made it a point to find harry when he was alone and practically force him into a conversation with you. he tries to get away when he sees it's you coming up next to him in the hallway, but you grab his arm. "harry. please."

harry pauses. he hasn't really heard your voice since you were in your first year, and only barely. it was so soft and kind, and just a hint sad as you asked him to speak for a moment.

he turns to you reluctantly. he knew this wasn't going to be good. he's already a little lost just looking in your eyes, but keeps himself focused as you begin talking to him.

"you've been avoiding me for almost 3 years now, and don't try to deny it because i'm not stupid…" you say, your tone of sadness only more pronounced. harry's awkwardly diverting his gaze, watching as you both slowly become some of the only students left in the hallway. he doesn't intend on replying, instead letting silence fill the air between you.

"i know you and draco don't get along but, can't we at least be civil? i'm not like him like that," you ask, your voice slightly desperate.

harry glares at you, ripping his arm away from your lingering grasp. he was never one to get angry at someone being so kind to him without reason, but he just couldn't stand you. you confused him, you made his heart race, you made him feel crazy for disliking someone so intensely when they haven't done anything wrong, but he couldn't help it.

"draco is an evil, blood purist bully. and as far as i'm concerned, you're nothing but his little shadow. so no, we cannot be civil." harry spits at you, his voice dripping in anger.

your face drops, but he's already stomping away, his blood pumping from the adrenaline rush of simply speaking to you.

"well fuck off, then. i was just being nice."

harry turns around at your loud voice, seeing you in tears just before you turn around and run out of the hallway, a few lingering students watching and looking over at harry as well.

harry just ignores them and continues walking away. he feels guilty, of course, you really were just trying to be nice despite harry's relationship with draco, but harry can't let his guard down for even a second. he's got so many other parts of his life that require his attention and time, he can't risk getting caught up in his feelings over his enemy's sister in the middle of it all.

it was easier for both of you if harry just put that wall up right away and ignored his other feelings for you. the feelings of longing, the feeling of guilt…

after that day, you and harry hadn't spoken to each other again. there was always looking, staring from across the room in both admiration and disdain. you found harry to be incredibly rude after that encounter and never saw him quite the same, but you couldn't help but watch him through the years as he grew into himself. and he had the same issue, only finding you more and more beautiful as time went on, from an adorable girl with the cutest laugh he's ever heard to a gorgeous woman in every sense of the word.

harry had a few crushes throughout this time at hogwarts and, ironically, even dated his best friend's sister at some point, but always found himself disinterested in all of them after a while for one reason or another. harry was constantly on edge these last few years and would practically lose himself in the situations he was in. his world would be turned upside down and he was expected to fix it every time. at that point, he just couldn't bring himself to care about a crush or even a relationship after experiencing what he's gone through.

what harry did always care about, though, was you.

not in a traditional sense, at least. he didn't necessarily want bad things to happen to you, not at all actually. he had always kept an eye on you during your years together. he didn't have any reason to, you guys were anything but friends, but harry felt a responsibility to keep you safe for some reason.

by harry's last year, draco had more or less left him alone completely. no more bullying or picking fights or spewing names, draco was now a sullen shell of who he used to be with no motivation to do anything but graduate and leave hogwarts behind.

harry couldn't blame him. he had to give it to draco, he went through a lot. though harry believed it all happened due to draco's own stupidity and selfishness that left him alone and depressed in the end, he still felt for him, if only a little bit. if not for what it did to you.

you had never given in to your family's connections to the dark lord, even when things were at their most detrimental point in the war, you stood with your fellow classmates, and, ultimately, with harry. draco couldn't say the same.

harry remembers being shocked, but not entirely sure why. he knew who you really were outside of your surname: a kind, understanding, empathetic person who brought light to people's days. but still, after all this time, there was a part of harry that still believed it might have all just been an act. he knew he was being ridiculous once he saw you turn away from your own parents and brother, not for harry, but for what was right.

since then, harry's felt different about you. rather than feeling anger or confusion whenever he saw your face or the back of your head in the hall, all he felt was happiness. he was happy to see you, happy that everything was okay now, happy that you had been genuine this whole time…though, of course, that came with the guilt of being so awful to you previously.

harry had been meaning to apologize to you and finally settle things before the end of the year. the issue was getting you away from draco.

since draco began struggling after the war, you two were practically attached at the hip. you tried everything in your power to help your brother, to be there for him, to reassure him; it killed you to see him so disappointed in everything, especially himself. harry found it sweet, of course, just how much you were willing to try for draco, but he ultimately saw it as a lost cause. if draco wanted to wallow in self-pity for knowingly being on the wrong side of the war, harry couldn't care less.

however, he cared for you, of course, so he respected your space around draco as harry knew he would only make things worse.

he was still determined to speak to you alone, so he figured out what classes you and draco had, both together and separately, and found a time where you would be alone. your last class of the day ended before draco's did, so harry waited by your classroom door until the bell rang.

once he saw you exit, talking with a friend, it took him a moment to build the courage to interrupt the conversation. but he knew he had to do this now, or else he'd never do it at all.

"[y/n]," harry said, coming up behind you and your friend. you both turned to him, your face instantly going pale. "oh," your friend had said, looking at you and harry before giving you a smirk and a simple goodbye.

you waved her off and turned back to harry, a complex look on your face. harry smiled tightly. "i was, um, wondering if we could speak, just for a moment," harry stumbles through his words, gesturing to an empty hall to your right. you take a moment to look around you, but nod at him and head around the corner to the less used hallway.

harry sighs as you turn to him, arms crossed, watching intently. "uh, look," harry says awkwardly, his hands going to his head in stress. "just, since everything that's happened, i've been thinking a lot…" harry continues, not able to look at you.

"i'm sure you have," you say softly. your voice is a mix of sincerity and sarcasm. it stings. harry can tell you're disappointed, angry, sad, and above all, completely hurt.

he chooses his next words carefully. "i'm sorry. for everything. for what happened with you and your family. for putting you through so much. for treating you how i did. i let my anger for draco and your family get in the way of my judgment." harry says softly, staring at the ground. "you didn't deserve that. none of you did. and i'll live with the guilt forever."

you're still watching harry, your weight shifting to the side, arms slowly uncrossing.

"i'm not asking you to forgive me. i just wanted to say sorry." harry sighs, sneaking a look at you before quickly looking away down the hall. your expression is unreadable. confusion, shock, sadness.

you leave a few moments of silence before replying, thinking of what you want to say to harry after all these years. you clear your throat, your hands folding together in front of you. "you should be sorry," you say simply.

harry's heart drops, but he's not surprised at your response. he knows you won't be easy to win over.

"i grew up idolizing you, harry. do you know how heartbreaking it was for you to hate me because of something i can't control?" your voice is breaking, your eyes turning away from him as well. harry doesn't move or respond. he knows he deserves to hear this.

you sigh shakily, trying to regain control. "but," you say sharply, causing harry to look towards you. your eyes were still diverted, nervously wringing your hands together. "there's no guilt to be had. you didn't do anything. you didn't choose this life. everything that happened to all of us was happening to you too." you say flatly.

you glance at harry, who's surprised at your words. "you were just a kid, harry." you tell him softly. harry's eyes threaten to tear up as he turns his head away quickly. you look back down the hall in front of you. "but so was i, and i didn't deserve that from you. so, yes, while i don't forgive you yet, i do accept your apology." you say with a suppressed smile. harry also has a small smile on his cheeks from what you can see.

another few moments of silence pass before harry sighs, relieved. "well, thank you."

the bell rings, and harry's heart drops. draco. he's going to be looking for you. he turns to the other hallway before looking back at you. "i guess i better go," he says. you smile sadly at him. "yeah. guess so." you say quietly.

harry gives you a sad smile too before leaving you behind, looking around to make sure draco wasn't close by before leaving down the hall.

harry wasn't afraid of draco. he never had been, but he certainly didn't want to see how he'd react to harry talking to his sister, even just casually. harry understands to an extent, if he had a sister he'd never let her near draco–but that's because he's draco. harry's a good guy, and he'd treat you well.

harry shakes his head at his thoughts.

what is he doing? he just wanted to apologize to you. nothing more. just because you make his heart flutter and are probably the most beautiful girl he'll ever know doesn't mean he has to like you. even though harry can't deny just how much he admired you for what you sacrificed during the war. when you turned your back to lucius and narcissa, your face stained with tears, hands in a fist, harry remembers thinking this must be what an angel looks like in real life. all of the evil in the world at your fingertips to corrupt you and you were strong enough, smart enough, to say no to it all in the face of war.

but that didn't have to mean anything, right?

right. harry could appreciate what you've done and still keep his distance with you. he apologized for his behavior, and you might've proved his suspicions about you to be wrong, but you were still a malfoy. one good, precious apple out of the entire rotten orchard isn't going to change his mind.

the next day, harry's just splitting ways with hermione outside the library when he catches your eye from down the hall. "harry!" you call out, walking quickly in his direction.

harry turns to you, instinctively smiling before letting his face go blank. "[y/n]," he says, surprised, as you come up beside him. "what's wrong?"

you laugh a bit, giving harry a look. "what? nothing's wrong. i figured we could maybe eat lunch together."

harry's a bit stunned. he takes a look around you both. obviously you had been alone, but he was still a bit suspicious of draco's absence. you two had been practically glued together this last year or so, it was almost odd to see you without him.

"oh, sure, um…" harry says, still shocked as he continues scanning the faces around you. you laugh again, putting your hand on harry's arm as you guide him to the dining hall. "just us, don't worry. draco's sick in bed for the day."

harry's a bit relieved at your words, but gets the sense that you think harry's afraid of draco seeing you two together. he might not want it to happen for one reason or another, but he's not afraid. he just wants to be respectful. though he's not entirely sure why, as draco has never given him the same in return.

sitting down at an empty spot at the gryffindor table, you start making a plate for yourself with the plentiful food options in front of you. harry sits across from you, his heart racing thinking about everyone seeing [y/n] malfoy and harry potter spending time together. weren't they well-known enemies of the school? i thought they hated each other? what does draco think about this?

harry started eating his food along with you, a comfortable but strange silence falling over you two. he wasn't sure if he should break it by asking why you wanted to meet with him, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know why.

after a few minutes, you wipe your face with a napkin and set down your utensils. "harry, i wanted to tell you something."

really? harry's heart could only beat harder. that was the last thing he wanted to hear from you right now. he was already practically sweating from the anxiety.

harry waits patiently for you, his eyes fixed on yours. he notices just how pretty they are in comparison to your skin, hair, lips, it just all makes sense together, like someone was extensively planning a beautiful painting when it came to your features.

you seem a tad nervous before looking down at your food and continuing. "i've decided i would like to try and be friends, if you'd like that." you seem flustered, almost embarrassed to ask. "i know there's been a lot of complications since year 3 when i first asked to be civil, but…y'know, like i already let spill, i've really admired you my whole life and…"

harry has never seen you so nervous. it was totally endearing, your mannerisms, your quiet voice, like a pet wanting approval.

"and, i think i would just really love to spend some time with you. and learn how to forgive you, of course." you add on the last part with a bit of coldness. it subtly reminds harry of draco. but you flash him a smirk before taking another bite of food, and it's like draco never existed.

harry smiles warmly. just a year ago if you had asked him this he would've laughed in your face and ignored you because it angered him that you think you two could ever be friends. but harry's changed a lot since then, he sees the human in you, and he's no longer suspicious of your intentions. though his guard is still up, he's not sure it'll ever really come down, he wants to reach out to you now.

with another bite of his food as well, harry casually nods his head. "yeah, i think we could be friends."

more silence passes before you finish your plate. "well, to commemorate our newfound friendship," you say as you raise your glass to him. harry chuckles. "a toast after we've already eaten?" he asks incredulously. you roll your eyes slightly, a smile still poking at your lips. "just do it, potter."

potter. the nickname can only remind him of draco. but somehow, it feels different coming from your mouth, in your voice. it's not harsh, it's not condescending, if anything it's full of love and care. it's admirable.

harry picks up his own glass and clinks it against yours, still chuckling to himself. "to newfound friendship."

it had been a few weeks of you and harry hanging out, and he was over the moon about it. you two had wonderful chemistry together, he'd come to learn, and your sense of humor was enthralling to him. you were always able to get a smile out of him, even sometimes just from a single look. you both enjoyed reading and would spend hours at the library together, you enjoyed going to harry's last few quidditch matches of the year to cheer him on, and harry loved helping you study for your exams. the more time you spent together, the more harry had let his guard down around you. you were really starting to grow on him. he found himself thinking about you all the time, and not in a negative way like he used to for so many years.

now, when he thought of or saw you, his heart ached with how much he truly cared about you. he thought about the night you two ended up sneaking out together simply just to talk under the moonlight, where you told him everything about your complicated relationship with your family. he told you all about his fight against voldemort, the months he spent looking for horcruxes, and what it was like being the chosen one at such a young age. he remembers how intently you watched and listened to him. he had never met someone so intrigued by his life and feelings. you were extremely empathetic to what he had gone through, and it was refreshing to harry. he remembers looking at you under the moon, and thinking you were truly the most beautiful thing in the world, inside and out.

when he thought of or saw you, he remembered the time you spent together just before christmas, exchanging presents in the solitary of his bedroom. simple, small gifts wrapped perfectly and neatly with sentimental value for both of you. he thought about the hug you gave him as you left his room, his gift still in hand, holding him for a few moments longer than you normally did. the way you'd said, "happy christmas, harry," with the softest, sweetest voice in the world.

when harry thought of or saw you, all he could think about was the care and admiration he had for you that only grew with time. at first.

then, he thought about draco.

harry always thought about draco when he was with you. not that he wanted to, he wished he could focus all his attention on you in the moment, but you were still his sister. harry was reminded each time you gave him a bit of attitude or curled your lips away from him that you were, in fact, still a malfoy, and your time spent with him wouldn't be looked at favorably by anyone in your family. most especially draco.

harry never brought up the prospect of your family unprompted. he knew it was a sensitive subject, but he also knew it would never end well with you. one way or another, by the end of the school year, harry was leaving and you couldn't follow. as much as he loved being around you and valued your budding friendship, he knew it was destined to fail from the beginning. he was everything your family hated and spent their lives working against. he was the chosen one. though he's sacrificed many aspects of his life because of this title, you will undoubtedly be his most painful.

and he certainly never brought up draco, as the idea itself made him sick to his stomach. it was bad enough you were related to him, but the fact that you spent pretty much every moment with draco when you weren't with harry made his skin crawl. he knew your relationship with him was not negotiable. you loved draco so deeply it was almost foreign to harry. the way you talked about him that night under the moon and the experiences he's had to go through did make harry empathize with him more than he had previously, but he was still full of anger and hatred for the little blonde boy who tried to make harry's school years a living hell.

he was thinking this over as he examined a framed picture of your family sitting on your nightstand. harry had been to your room quite a few times this year to hang out, and he was always intrigued by this specific picture. your parents, sitting in elegant thrones with you and draco on either side. you looked so out of place. not because of your stance or expression, but you just simply looked different. if harry had never known, he would've never guessed you were born into the malfoy family.

"that's a terrible photo," you laugh at harry as you continue working on an assignment. you had asked him to come help you, but really you just wanted his presence near you. harry knew this. once he figured out that most of your invitations to "study together" just meant you wanted to be near him for an hour or so every day, he was extremely grateful to provide his help. he didn't mind being around you at all, actually.

"it's…definitely something," harry laughs off, taking his attention away from the photo and topic in general.

harry sits beside you on the bed, your back on your pillows as he sits with his feet on the ground. harry's just about to bring up something when you lean towards him, holding your book in your lap. "hey, can you explain this to me?" you ask, still looking down at your assignment on the other page. "i've read this like 10 times and i still don't get it," you point out a paragraph for harry as you scoot closer to him.

harry leans in, closer than he's ever been with you, and reads the passage to himself quietly. as he's reading, he can see you shifting nervously beside him. your hands were delicately holding the book open for him, still resting on your legs, his head just below yours.

"oh, uh, i think it's talking about…" harry starts off, trying to reread the difficult wording of the section. "bloody hell," he mumbles, frustrated, reaching for the book himself to get a better look at the paragraph. you chuckle breathily, and it hits the back of harry's neck. he immediately gets chills.

he looks up towards you, and your face is nearly touching his. he would've moved away sooner but he'd be damned if he didn't take this opportunity to truly appreciate just how deeply beautiful your eyes were right now.

not a moment later, your door opens from behind harry, and he doesn't even have to look to know who it is.

you both turn slowly to see draco standing in the doorway, his eyes flashing between you and harry sitting so closely on your bed. "dray," you gasp, standing up from beside harry.

harry's frozen. the look on draco's face is one of shock and disappointment. his lips curled down tightly, a familiar darkness growing in his eyes as he focuses on harry sitting on his sister's bed.

"so. i was right. you have been avoiding me." draco says towards you as he continues to glare at harry. harry stands with you, anger slowly growing inside of him for the situation at hand. this is the last way he wanted draco to find out you two were friends.

"dray, he was just helping–""i don't wanna hear it, [y/n]." draco interrupts you. this only pisses harry off more as his jaw clenches tightly.

a moment of silence passes briefly before draco speaks again. "i told you to stay away from him, did i somehow not make that clear?" draco's eyes divert to you, his stare even colder looking at you. you're stumbling looking for your words, but harry's anger gets the best of him in the moment.

"she can make her own decisions, malfoy."

draco's eyes snap back to harry, his fists balling up at his sides. your hand instinctively goes in front of harry as you step towards draco. "it would be wise of you to shut your bloody mouth now, potter. you were the one all over my baby sister in her bed just a moment ago." draco's words are leaking with rage, taking steps closer towards harry.

"dray, stop it," you warn him, now standing between him and harry.

"[y/n], you can't be fucking serious right now. you've loathed him for years. we both have. what are you doing? have you lost your mind? i'm genuinely asking," draco is dumbfounded at his sister's actions, scanning you up and down.

"that's not even true, draco, and you know that." you tell him in a cracking voice, tears stinging your eyes. harry wants nothing more than to save you from the heartache you're experiencing in this moment. part of him wants to hurt draco for making you cry. but, inside, harry knows you would want to handle this by yourself. anything he did to hurt draco was inadvertently hurting you as well.

"harry has been nothing but a good friend to me this semester. he's even helped me pass my exams. don't do this to me right now," you tell draco slowly, tears still threatening to fall.

draco rolls his eyes at your last statement. "oh, do what? try and keep you safe? you're being utterly ridiculous right now, [y/n], and you and i both know it."

harry can sense there's something he's missing here. you and draco keep referencing something you both understand that harry doesn't seem to.

you're clearly frustrated as the first few tears start to fall down your cheeks. "i know what i'm doing, dray. please, don't you trust me?" you ask desperately, your voice shaking.

draco softens watching you fall apart in front of him. his eyes aren't as dark, his fists come undone, and he sighs as he breaks his stare at you.

"of course i do." he states simply, his voice now more solemn than angry.

"then trust me when i say i trust harry," you say. draco winces at your statement. "i know there's complicated feelings there but i love you, dray, and i want to be honest about who i'm spending my time with," you level with draco, taking a step towards him.

he glances towards harry, a look of disdain still lingering in his eyes, but looks at you with an apologetic look. "you should've been honest from the beginning," he insists.

you sigh. "i know. i'm sorry. i felt terrible lying to you. you have to understand it was killing me, dray…" your voice breaks again as you try to compose yourself. "but you know how i've felt for a long time."

harry can't decipher the tone in your last statement, but you say it so convincingly he breaks his stare from draco to look down at you, tear-stained cheeks and, still, your eyes are so beautiful to harry. he looks back at draco, who's watching him in disgust before looking back at you lovingly.

draco's analyzing your expression as his body relaxes. he sighs again, bringing you in for a hug.

harry steps to the side awkwardly as you and draco hug for a moment. you're still sniffling by the time he pulls away, wiping your cheeks with a gentle thumb. harry watches closely. it's so strange to see draco this soft in his presence. not even harry could get in the way of draco's clear dedication to you as more than a brother, but as a protector.

for a moment, harry saw a side of draco he knew existed but never fully realized was so strong.

"i know, [y/n/n]. it's okay. i'm sorry." draco tells you softly, his hands still holding your cheeks. you smile, tearfully, putting your hands on his before holding them in front of you. draco takes them back, fixing his shirt before looking at harry with a blank expression.

harry stays quiet. there's a lot he wants to say, but he waits for draco to break the silence.

"as for you, potter…" draco says, his voice less angry than before but still contained. harry looks at him expectedly. he's easily taller than draco now, and practices for quidditch way more than draco does anymore, so harry definitely has some muscle on him. if he were to ever try anything, harry wasn't afraid.

draco takes a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. "while my beautiful sister is putting it lightly, my feelings towards you are more than complicated," he spits out, the anger seeping through before he breaks his stare and controls himself. "but," he says, a softness in his voice.

"she's a smart girl, and i trust that she's not making a mistake spending her time with you." draco looks at you with a hint of a smile before looking back at harry with a stoic expression. "and while i may not like it, we're adults now, and i'm no longer a threat to you," draco says simply before his face sours. "unless you so much as upset her just once, i swear to merlin potter–""draco." you interrupt his rage harshly, your eyes cold as ice as you caught his gaze.

harry smirks, but wipes it away so as to not make the situation worse. draco lets out an annoyed huff before apologizing to you curtly.

"well, best be on my way then, don't want to interrupt you two," draco says with a sneer, turning to the door. "i'll still see you for dinner tonight, right?" you ask eagerly, following and opening the door for draco. he nods. "of course," he says simply, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss on top of your head. with another dirty look at harry, draco turns and leaves silently.

you close the door with a shaky sigh, and harry's immediately coming to your side to comfort you. "[y/n], i'm so sorry that happened how it did. i never wanted to cause issues with you and draco," he explains, his hand instinctively reaching for your back to rub it comfortingly.

you're still collecting yourself, facing the door, turned away from harry as you sniffle and wipe your eyes. "it's okay," you say in a broken voice.

harry's heart aches at the sound. all he wants is to comfort you, hold you close, tell you it's okay to cry with him…

but he doesn't, because he knows he shouldn't.

"it's not okay, look how upset you are," harry says, bending down slightly to your height. "look, i wouldn't be upset if you told me you didn't want to see me anymore. your relationship with draco is important to you, and the last thing i want to do is complicate it," harry tells you softly.

you snap your head at him with a concerned look, eyes red from crying. "wh-what? no, i…don't say that," you stutter over yourself. you take a step towards harry, only a few inches apart at this point.

"harry, i want you in my life. even if draco didn't understand i would still…" you trail off, your eyes starting to water again as you blink the tears away. "i want you, harry," you say, your voice trembling with fear.

harry's mind is spinning hearing you say this. he's looking down at you, so close to him, so vulnerable, willing to lose what's closest to you just for him. you're so beautiful, so full of light, and so much more complex than he ever imagined. he's never felt so many feelings about one person so intensely all at once.

the only thing he knows, the only thing he can rely on, is that he wants you too.

harry's lost in your eyes for several seconds before he can respond. "i want you in my life, too," he says just above a whisper.

you smile, still a bit sad, but you seem fulfilled with his answer. stepping back and towards your bed, still wiping your eyes, you chuckle half-heartedly to yourself. "didn't think you'd see me cry so easily," you say, a little embarrassed as you shake your head. "i tried to fight it, but…" you continued laughing to yourself.

harry followed you, still giving you your space. he watched as you sat down on your bed with a sigh, your body still shaking from the rush. "it's okay to cry," he says, holding himself back from what he really wants to say. "i'm just sorry it happened this way,"

you give harry a half smile before looking away nervously. "he was going to figure it out soon, anyways. i've been spending more and more time 'studying with the girls' than i ever have, and he was getting suspicious," you tell him, shaking your head again.

harry chuckles to himself. he found it sweet that you made excuses to spend time with him, even if it meant sacrificing time with draco. he felt special, he couldn't lie. "so, i'm one of the girls now?" harry teases, crossing his arms with a smirk. you roll your eyes, holding in a giggle. "shut up," you whine, your cheeks going red. "it was the only thing i could come up with, okay?"

"no, no, it's funny," harry says with a shrug. you still give him a look, but reach for your textbook you left at the end of the bed. "whatever. can you just help me now?" you ask, still holding back a laugh with a suppressed smile.

harry just laughs and agrees, joining  the bed next to you as he attempts to help you with the assignment. soon it was like draco was never there, and you were back to laughing, joking, sitting in comfortable silence together until you had to leave for dinner.

with a quick hug and a lingering goodbye, you separated down the hall from each other. harry thought about you the entire way to his room, and for the rest of the night by himself.  it's not like harry never thought about you, of course, he certainly did more than he thought he should, but tonight was just different. he thought about what you said to draco, how you defended him so quickly, how you put yourself on the line to ask for draco's trust in that moment. it was like watching you turn your back on your family all over again.

harry had to admit he felt guilty. he's really grown to care about you since getting closer with you, and he hates to think he's constantly going to get in the way of your relationship with your family like he has already. just by being his friend you're already putting so much at risk, he'd hate to think about what would happen if things ever went further…

harry really has stop having these thoughts about you. he's just your friend, and he doesn't even know how he feels about you. sure, his feelings aren't complicated with anger or hatred anymore, but if anything they're even more confusing now. harry knew this would happen, that's why he built that wall between you and him in the first place. some part of him just knew one day you would be trouble.

but now, on the other side of that wall, harry was ready for the trouble. he was going to take it head on.

he didn't care what draco thought, or your parents, or anyone else, not even himself. all he cared about was that you made him happy, and he seemed to have the same affect on you. as long as harry focused on that, the rest was just noise.

a few months later the snow was melting, the school year was wrapping up, and you and harry were still going strong. as friends, anyway.

things became a lot more natural between you and harry after draco walked in on you two that day. you no longer felt the need to hide your time spent with harry. you were bringing him everywhere and he was doing the same with you. you got along perfectly with ron and hermione despite their hesitations at first, even becoming especially close to hermione with all of your similar interests and beliefs.

harry eventually met your friends too and got along with them just as well. soon you were together pretty much every day studying with friends, playing quidditch for fun, or going to diagon alley to window shop. harry more than enjoyed his time spent with you, and felt empty on the days he couldn't manage to see you for even a moment. you were so full of light you just made everything better, and harry couldn't get enough of it.

in fact, it was over this time that harry started to figure out that maybe what he was feeling towards you was more than just complicated guilt. maybe he didn't just really care about you, or find you really pretty, or really wanted to hold you when you were sad or scared; maybe, just maybe, he was starting to really like the malfoy sister.

this came as no surprise to him once he figured it out, really. since the literal first minute he saw you at just 12 years old he knew you were special. he was mesmerized from the moment you entered his life. even through every crush and short-lived girlfriend he's had these past few years, you were always more interesting to him.

it took a long time for harry to come around to his own feelings and emotions. he's simply never had the time to truly work out why he feels what he feels, or what causes certain sensations in his body. all he knew was that your eyes made his heart ache in a way that nobody else's did. not because he hates you, but, really, quite the opposite, actually.

even if he came to terms with his growing feelings for you, he tried to not let them get in the way of your friendship together. you were constantly thanking harry for dedicating his time to you, for spending long nights just talking with you, for helping you in every way he possibly could. he knew how much you valued your friendship with him, and so did he, so he pushed those other feelings to the side and tried to keep things friendly between you two.

however, it was getting to a point where harry could barely spend more than a few minutes thinking about anything outside of you. he brought you up constantly when you weren't around, everything reminded him of you, his entire mind was stained with you and it was starting to have an effect. ron and hermione had teased him for being so lovesick for a malfoy, which he shrugged off. he knew you were different, you weren't just a malfoy, you were entirely your own. he'd never met someone like you, you made him feel things he didn't even know were possible.

soon harry knew his feelings would grow to the point that they would begin interfering with how he acted with you. you already made him nervous just by being so pretty and comfortable around him, constantly making jokes and teasing him in a friendly way that just made harry feel so giddy inside. he knew soon his thoughts of you would start to get in the way of how he looked at you, how he talked to you, and it scared him. harry couldn't lose you now, you'd very quickly become an important part of his life that made him feel complete. his silly crush could never matter as much as his friendship with you.

there was a dinner being held for the last year students this weekend, and harry was trying to figure out a casual way to ask you to go with him so it felt friendly. he didn't want to be too casual and make you think he was asking as a last minute effort, but he also didn't want to be too formal and make you think he'd been thinking about this date for months. which, in reality, he had, and it was stressing him out.

harry finally figured he would just ask you like he'd ask you to do anything else with him, but he also wanted to wait for the right moment. however, he was running out of time, and you had been unexpectedly busy this past week so he's barely seen you. it's only a few days until then, and he still hasn't even found a formal outfit to wear, because he might not even go if you're not beside him.

luckily, harry had planned a time to meet with you tonight to 'study', which, again,  usually involved you two sitting with open books as you chat about everything except class.

harry was on his way to the slytherin common room, a pep in his step as he tried to encourage himself to ask you without fear of rejection or judgment. it's just you, he knows you'll be kind either way, but he really wants you to say yes and he's not sure how he'll react to any other answer.

upon entering, you're already sitting and waiting for him on the sofa. slumped into the curve of the cushions, your nose buried in a book as your head is held up with a throw pillow. harry thinks you look so precious, all curled up with a book, it's tough for him to break you out of your daze.

but harry clears his throat, and you jump a little before smiling at him. "harryyy," you call out, closing your book as you throw your arms up for a hug.

harry comes over and leans down to give you a half hug. he doesn't realize just how much he's missed you until he catches a whiff of your perfume, and he's practically melting over you once again. everything about you intoxicates him.

"i've missed you, [y/n]," harry says before letting go. he sits across from you on the sofa, setting his bag down on the ground beside his feet. "i've missed you too, sorry things got so crazy," you laugh.

harry waves his hand at you. "don't worry about it. i'm just glad you were free tonight," he says, admiring you in the light of the fireplace. you just get more beautiful with time. something about you tonight is different, maybe it's your hair, maybe it's your comfy clothes, but harry's completely captivated by you in this moment.

you catch up with each other briefly, with harry mostly happily listening to you describe all the time you've spent with friends recently and the projects you've been working on for classes. he loves to listen to you tell stories, he just finds you so funny and endearing and could listen to you laugh all day if you'd let him.

after a while, harry builds the courage to bring up the dinner this weekend. he's just about to open his mouth when someone comes down the stairs into the common room.

draco, of course.

his icy stare lands on harry, and his face naturally twists in disgust. he looks at you, and the disgust drops to a neutral expressions. "[y/n]. potter." he says simply.

"hey, dray, where are you off to?" you ask, your eyes gesturing to his bag. draco shrugs, his eyes returning to harry with disdain. "just going out for a bit. need new shoes for  dinner this saturday." he says, making his way to the door as he adjusts his over-the-shoulder bag.

"oh, shit, i forgot that's this weekend. do you have your suit?" you ask, your face dropping in concern. "i've got it. i'll see you later, okay?" draco says curtly as he opens the door. "okay," you say with a smile, waving as he leaves.

harry was suddenly hit with a realization he hadn't thought of before. of course. he felt so stupid not even considering it. what if you were already going with draco? he's your brother, and practically your best friend, of course you'd have to go with him.

harry tried not to think about draco much anymore, so it must've slipped his mind. he's seen him a few times since that day in your room when he found out you two were friends. mostly in passing, like what just happened, or in an awkward exchange as you went from hanging out with draco to spending time with harry like some strange divorced parent agreement.

other than that, draco was just your brother to harry, and though you brought him up a number of times, he was mostly a topic to avoid. so, harry forgot, and now he's even more nervous to ask you if you'd rather go to dinner with him this weekend.

"it's crazy draco's going to his last year dinner already…" you interrupt harry's thoughts, your voice trailing off. harry looks at you, and you're lost in thought. you look at him and smirk, reaching to push his shoulder. "and so are you! damn, you're old," you joke, trying to hide your laugh.

harry rolls his eyes, but you manage to get a laugh out of him. "have you asked someone yet? draco's taking that greengrass girl i believe, or at least he wanted to if he hasn't already chickened out," you say, still laughing.

harry can breathe a sigh of relief. he's not sure what he would've done if you were already going with draco. he had been trying to plan the perfect night since christmas.

"uh, actually, since you've already asked, i was hoping that you'd maybe like to join me?" harry asks, his eyes nervously shifting away from yours.

"oh," you say, clearly taken aback. harry's gaze meet yours again, and he's instantly sweating at your reaction. "unless, y'know, you don't want to, or…i'm sure someone's asked you already," harry interjects, trying to laugh it off entirely.

you're watching harry closely, your cheeks slowly turning red. "um, no, actually, no one's asked, and…i would love to go with you, i just…" you trail off again, your eyes still wide with surprise.

harry prepares himself for rejection. he knows there's a number of reasons you'd say no, and draco's at the top of the list.

"frankly, i have nothing to wear," you say, a bit embarrassed as your blush only deepens. harry breathes yet another sigh of relief. you always manage to put him through so many emotions and you don't even realize it.

"you could be wearing a paper bag and i'd just be glad you're standing next to me," harry tells you with a laugh. you drop your head, clearly flustered.

when you look up at harry, you have a shy smile pinching your cheeks. he thinks you look so adorable, knees to your chest, completely flushed, giggling like a nervous school girl. "well, then, i'd love to go with you, harry. but no paper bag. maybe after dinner." you tease him.

harry laughs with you, but part of him wonders if you're flirting with him a bit.

the rest of the night was spent joking, laughing, and enjoying the warmth of the fire together. before harry left, you thanked him for asking you, even if it was such short notice you'd have to spend all day shopping tomorrow. "don't feel pressured, i'm sure you'd look beautiful in whatever you already have," harry had told you, eager to get a blush out of you again.

when you did, harry smiled proudly and gave you a warm hug goodbye. he was practically skipping back to his room to tell ron he'd finally asked you, and that you'd actually said yes. ron was happy for harry, teasing him for taking so long, but nothing could bring harry down. even if he just meant it as being friendly, as he's sure you did as well, this was still a date in his mind.

and, shit, he still needed an outfit.

the night of the dinner, harry waited patiently outside the dining hall doors with his gift for you in hand. there was a soft mumbling coming from the dining hall as people began gathering, speaking to each other, and listening to the small band playing instrumental music. however, all harry can hear is his blood pumping through his ears as he nervously waits to see you for the first time tonight.

harry went for a simple suit, all black, nothing too showy or special as he wasn't sure what you were wearing. he actually hadn't been able to speak with you since the night he asked you to come with him, only agreeing to meet you right here just before he'd left the slytherin common room. his heart was pounding, and he felt like a young teen again, waiting for his crush to come around the corner. but he wasn't a kid anymore, and you were so much more than just a first year crush. you were everything.

harry hears someone walking up behind him, and as he turns, he's instantly drawn to you. walking arm in arm with draco, also dressed in all black, you're wearing a dark green dress that fits you perfectly, hugging your waist and hips like it was tailor fit. it's floor-length, with an off-the-shoulder neckline, and your hair is twisted up into a curly, elegant bun, with multiple curls hanging out for a casual look.

your outfit and hair are nothing, however, in comparison to just how beautiful your smile is.

harry's absolutely captivated by you. he knew you'd look beautiful, like he said, you could make a paper bag work, but he didn't think it was possible for a single person to be so striking. he was sure he looked like a complete fool, jaw slack open as he stared into your beautiful eyes from down the hall, but he truly couldn't help himself. you were everything.

"[y/n]," he manages to say once you're closer. "you look incredible," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. you smile, turning towards draco with a growing blush.

harry looks at draco, who's already staring at him with a tight jaw and narrowed eyes.

"draco," harry greets him, trying to be courteous. "potter," draco spits out, seeing through him.

you slightly roll your eyes, motioning for draco to go into the dining hall without you. "i'm sure daphne's waiting for you," you tease him with a smirk, pushing him along. draco gives harry a dirty look the entire time he passes him, and even until he's left the hall.

harry can't bring himself to care. all he can think about right now is you.

he's so mesmerized by you he forgets he has something in his hands, nearly dropping the slim box before gripping it tightly again, clearing his throat to break his focus.

"what's that?" you ask, looking at the simple black box in harry's grasp. harry can hear the smirk in your voice, knowing it's for you.

"i-i don't know, guess you'll have to open it to see," he says, handing it over to you. you scoff at him, still smirking as you accept the gift.

upon opening it, you gasp. a beautiful necklace with green gemstones that match your dress perfectly. "harry…" you gasped, staring at the jewelry in your hands. "it's beautiful…and, my dress, how did you know?" you ask in disbelief. harry just chuckles. "you have green everything, my little slytherin," he reminds you.

you blush again, handing harry the necklace. "put it on me?" you ask, turning around and holding up the curls that might be in his way.

harry nervously unclasped the necklace and put it on you, taking extra care to let his hands graze across the skin of your neck more times than what was necessary.

as you turn around, harry's heart races. it's perfect. it matches your dress, it looks amazing on your skin, and it pulls your entire look together. it draws the perfect amount of attention to your beautiful shoulders and collarbones. harry was extra proud of himself for this one.

looking down at it, you touch the necklace carefully, admiring it. "i spent forever looking for a necklace for tonight, and i couldn't find one i liked, but…it's perfect, harry, thank you," you say, throwing your hands around harry's neck as you embrace him tightly. harry smiles, his heart still racing as he pulls you in close. "thank you for coming with me tonight. i didn't want to come at all if it wasn't with you." he tells you, placing a soft kiss on your head just in front of your curly bun. you give him a shy smile before pulling him to the dining room.

it was an incredible night together. ron and hermione had quickly found you both, and hermione was gushing over how good you looked the entire time. ron was watching her with so much love in his eyes it made harry a little sick, but he was happy for his friends. he gave ron a knowing look, which ron just shook his head at and escorted himself and hermione away to get drinks.

as you and harry made your rounds around the room, meeting up with friends and stopping to say hello to professors, harry noticed just how many people were watching you and whispering amongst themselves. you two had spent plenty of time together this year, so it wasn't necessarily a shock to see the boy who lived hanging out with the malfoy sister anymore, but people were seemingly still stunned by the fact that you came with him tonight, and that you looked as good as you did.

after a while of mingling, harry caught draco's stare from across the room. his arm was entwined with his date's, but his full attention was on you and harry. he rolled his eyes at harry and walked away, pulling his date with him. harry shrugged him off and his attention turned back to you.

beautiful, perfect, effortless you.

your arm was wrapped around his in the same way, as it had been all night. harry expected himself to be incredibly nervous and awkward tonight seeing you so dolled up to be his date, as a friend, of course. but he was surprised at how natural everything felt with you. it always had, nothing ever felt forced between you two, conversation and smiles seemed to just flow naturally without either of you trying. it just made sense to harry, being with you, holding you close to him, being together in front of everyone. it was all he'd wanted for so long.

sitting down to eat dinner, you quickly made conversation with hermione and ron as harry took the seat to your left, admiring you as you laughed with hermione over something he hadn't heard. you just looked so beautiful tonight under these candlelights, in the necklace harry picked out for you, the jewels falling just above the curve of your breasts spilling from your dark dress.

as you leaned forward to whisper something to hermione, harry got the perfect view of your chest from his seat, his eyes lingering for a moment too long before ron noticed and started snickering at him.

harry gave ron a look, kicking his foot under the table.

once dinner is served, the hall quiets as everyone enjoys their plates and drinks. some small talk is shared between bites, multiple glasses are drunk amongst you, ron, harry, and hermione, and the laughter continues throughout dinner.

before dessert comes, you and hermione take a short trip to the bathroom, leaving harry with ron. they laugh once they're alone, out of habit.

"i know i give you a hard time, but really, harry, i think [y/n]'s good for you. i haven't seen you this smitten in a long time, not since you dated my sister," ron teases, taking a sip of his drink as he chuckles to himself.

harry gives him a look, but can't help the smile growing on his face. "thanks, ron. but we're just here as friends. not like you and hermione," harry tries to turn the teasing back to ron, cocking his eyebrow with a knowing smile.

ron rolls his eyes. "please, at least i can say she's my girlfriend. you don't wanna be friends with [y/n] and you know it," ron responds, not giving in.

harry stays quiet.

as you and hermione return, giggling from across the table, you put a hand on harry's neck down to his shoulder to steady yourself as you sat in your dress.

harry got the shivers, but gave you a friendly smile as you met his eyes. you took back your hand, smiling at him in return.

while eating dessert, harry can feel draco staring at him again from somewhere in the room, but he can't bring himself to care enough to find his gaze. if draco wants to watch harry enjoy his date with draco's beautiful sister, he can spend all night watching for all that harry cares.

harry's thoughts are interrupted as he hears you let out a soft moan beside him. your spoon is left in your mouth as you pull it out slowly, your eyes closed delicately. harry watches discreetly, not wanting to draw ron and hermione's attention from their own conversation, but he's enamored with the way you let the spoon leave your lips, enjoying the dessert in front of you.

"so yummy," you say happily, your eyes rolling over to harry. he turns to look at you fully with a chuckle. "yes, very yummy," he teases you.

you narrow your eyes at him. "you're yummy," you tell him, laughing. harry's stunned before you continue. "i didn't even get to tell you, but you do look really good tonight, harry. you clean up well." you say softly, your words just for him.

harry's still a bit stunned, but tried to not let his nerves get in the way. "well, thank you, [y/n]. and, i never got to tell you as much as i should have tonight, but, you just…amaze me with how stunning you are," harry sighs, not caring how lovesick he looks as he continues to admire you, a true work of art sitting right beside him.

you chuckle, taking your bottom lip in your mouth. harry memorizes every detail of you, never wanting to forget how lucky he is to have you beside him  tonight.

"thank you, harry. it was a bit difficult for me, all this, just reminds me of home…" you say, gesturing to the grand dinner party going on around you. harry gives you a sympathetic look and a reassuring hand on your knee. you look at him, your eyes sending more shivers down harry's spine.

"we can leave whenever you're ready," harry tells you with a soft smile and lingering gaze. "you just say the word and we'll go 'study' in pajamas," he's only half joking.

you laugh at him again, but harry believes it's full of love. "there's nowhere i'd rather be," you assure him, putting your own hand on his knee.

harry blushes like crazy at the contact, but just laughs you off again.

after dessert the band starts playing more upbeat music, and the floor is cleared towards the front of the room for people to dance. you pull harry to the floor, along with a number of other couples, and start dancing with him. harry's not a very skilled dancer, so he just follows your lead and has fun moving around with you randomly, letting himself be free as the music and other people dancing relaxes his nerves.

after a while of dancing separately, you grab harry's hand and begin dancing closer to him, still laughing and smiling as you twirl yourself around, making him laugh as well. harry starts playfully moving with you, bringing you closer to him and further away, again and again until you're a giggling mess in his arms, practically falling all over him.

just as harry's enjoying the feeling of you in his arms, draco comes out of nowhere just beside him. "[y/n]," he snaps, trying to contain himself.

you look at draco, your smile fading at his irritated expression. "i'm leaving, just thought you should know." his words bitter, examining you entwined in harry's arms.

"draco," you start to say, but he's already making his way around you to the back door. you try to go after him instinctually, but harry pulls you back. "stay here, i'll talk to him," he says, surprising both you and himself as you turn to look at him. hermione comes up beside harry, watching the interaction from afar.

"harry…" you warn him. but harry gives you a reassuring squeeze of the hand, already heading for the door himself. "trust me?" he says, letting you go and turning away as hermione grabs your hand instead and begins asking what happened.

as harry enters the hallway, he sees draco's turned back heading away from the dining hall.

"draco," harry calls out, causing draco to stop in his tracks.

he turns to harry, an odd look on his face before he scoffs. "did she really send you to try and talk to me, or are you just dumber than i originally thought?" draco responds, shoving his hand in his pocket.

"no, i came to talk to you. i'm tired of this, draco. can't you just let [y/n] and i be friends?" harry asks, trying to contain his own anger.

draco only rolls his eyes harder, making his way towards harry with an angry step. "oh, please, potter, you're not fooling anyone. and, frankly, neither is she anymore." draco retorts, stopping a few feet away from harry with a nod to the dining hall doors.

harry's confused at his statement, and draco can tell just from the look on his face, which only makes him angrier. "you're clearly shagging my sister. and to top it all off, you made her your little date for the night in front of everyone here. and, honestly, you should be kissing the ground i walk on for letting you even so much as look at her, you fucking pig." draco's words are dripping venom, clearly having the words ready to spew in harry's face.

harry is dumbfounded, and actually outwardly laughs at draco's statement. draco takes another step towards harry, visibly turning red with anger. "don't make me fucking kill you, i'd hate to hurt my sister's feelings like that." 

harry just continues to chuckle, his arms crossing. "well, as flattered as i am that you think she'd shag me, we're just friends. really." harry informs him, a smirk on his face.

draco looks at him confused, his expression falling for only a moment before returning. "well then, you still clearly like her. and you're not very good at hiding it, either." he says, his voice faltering as he steps back.

harry can't disagree with him there. as much as he hates draco, he's not going to lie to him and say he doesn't have feelings for his sister when he knows he does. it's just not right.

"and so what if i do, huh? it's our last month of classes, malfoy. after this you'll never hear her talk about me again. is that what you want? because that's what's going to happen." harry says, his anger seeping through again as he admits what he believes to be true.

draco is in even more disbelief than before. he just looks at harry like he's joking. "are you being serious or are you trying to fuck with me?" he asks, examining harry from head to toe.

harry's even more confused. "what?"

draco turns away, chuckling to himself in both disbelief and anger. "i was right, you are dumber than i thought," he starts out, giving harry a look before turning away again. harry's hands ball into fists before he releases them, letting out an angry huff.

"[y/n]'s clearly all over you, spending all her time with you, you're all she ever bloody talks about anymore, fucking hell i thought you were shagging her, for god's sake," draco rants, his back still turned to harry. "she's been obsessed with you since we were kids. all she ever asked me, 'what's harry like, draco? is harry potter really that brave, draco?' blah blah blah," draco mocks you in a high pitched voice.

"and just when i thought she had found some sense in her and loathed you along with me for a few years, you trapped her again with your fucking namesake and…god knows what else she sees in you," draco sneers back at harry, turning to him once again.

"so yeah, excuse me while i watch my baby sister, my only solace in this lifetime, practically throw herself all over you at this pathetic party," draco gestures back to the room, his eyes cold as ice as he continues staring through harry.

harry's stunned by draco's outburst, but is more stunned that he thinks you may like harry back.

they stand there for a moment, examining each other, draco breathing heavily and unevenly as he tries to regain his composure.

harry's not sure exactly what he should say to him in this moment, so he just speaks the truth, the only thing he knows. "i care about [y/n], draco,"

draco rolls his eyes for another time. "no, really, draco. i do, and i have this whole time. i don't know if she feels the same, but, quite honestly, i don't care. all i know is that she makes me happy, and i hope i can do the same for her. that's all." harry tells draco, his eyes searching for a response.

draco just watches harry for a moment, his expression unreadable as he finds the words to respond.

he sighs, his body language completely shifting as he turns away from harry, his hand covering his face in distress. "you're an idiot if you think she doesn't. she turned her back on us, on me, because she was fighting for you. she was never like my parents." draco says softly, his anger fading.

"she was fighting for what was right." harry reminds him, making draco laugh sarcastically as he moves on.

"you know, she's the only thing i care about. the only person i not only tolerate, but actually love." draco says even softer before turning to scowl at harry again. "when she chose you that day, i wasn't surprised. i wasn't even mad. [y/n]'s always been that way. it's part of the reason why i keep her so close to me." draco's words are the nicest they've been directed at harry all night.

"now i know you wouldn't understand family love, potter," draco smirks, causing harry to bite his tongue. "but that girl is everything to me. when she trusts you, when she believes in you, when she turned her back to me in hopes i could see what she sees in you…" draco trails off a bit before turning away again.

"i know she's right."

harry's more than shocked at draco's words. he can barely process his sentiment before draco continues talking, making his way down the hall.

"so, again, i may not like it, but i'll try to be civil. if you, just, please, potter," draco turns one last time, a slight smirk on his face. "for my sake. just ask the damn girl on a date so she'll shut the hell up about it."

with that, draco's gone and around the corner, out of harry's sight.

harry's left alone with his thoughts, the muffled music from the dining hall filling the air around him.

he can hardly comprehend what draco's just told him, both about you and about his belief in harry. but mostly when it comes to you.

you. alone in the dining hall.

just as harry turns, you're opening the door, your sweet face twisted with worry as you search the halls behind him. "where's draco?" you ask urgently, making your way out of the doorway as it closes behind you.

harry's hands go to your shoulders, and you look at him. he smiles down at you, his mind spinning as he examines your beautiful face still pointed with concern.

"he's fine. we talked."

you give harry another shocked look like earlier, your mouth slightly open. "you and draco?" you ask in disbelief.

harry just chuckles at you, looking you up and down again to fully appreciate just how good you looked in front of him. "have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" harry asks, his eyes still wandering. knowing you seem to like him as well, harry takes this opportunity to test the waters with you.

you instantly blush, but you give harry a knowing look. "yes, harry. now, what did you talk about?" you ask suspiciously.

harry, again, just chuckles, pulling you to his side as he turns to the hall. "let's get out of here, hm?" he asks, already leading you away.

"oh, but, hermione and ron?" you ask suddenly, gesturing back to the party. harry shakes his head. "they won't mind."

you're a bit confused as harry continues to lead you towards the gryffindor common room, but he distracts you with plenty of compliments and questions asking if you enjoyed yourself tonight.

harry then leads you to his room where his nerves finally hit him. he had been confident until now, but it was make or break  time. if draco was right and you did actually like harry, he was finally ready to make his move.

what that move was exactly, he's not sure.

but again, things with you are so natural, and once you close the door, it only feels right for harry to come up to you against the doorway. he smiles down at you, a nervous, blushing, beautiful angel just within his grasp.

without thinking, harry's mouth does the talking for him.

"[y/n]," he starts, his heart racing as you look up at him innocently. "can i kiss you?"

you're clearly shocked by his question, but don't miss the chance to eagerly nod your head, already leaning towards harry. he smiles, gently pushing you against the door as his lips finally lock with yours.

the kiss is urgent, needy, but full of longing and love. your hands find their way to harry's neck instantly, and his continue to linger against your shoulders. your body arches into his, clearly already wanting more just from a short kiss.

harry isn't stopping anytime soon though, as he's thought of this moment longer than he's planned to ask you to dinner tonight.

he savors everything about your kiss. your enchanting smell, the softness of your lips, the moans rumbling from the back of your throat; all of it is driving him crazy, but he's insistent on enjoying the moment for what it simply was. a kiss he's wanted so long from a beautiful girl he thought he could never have.

however, you're not as keen on savoring anything as you only become more desperate under harry's lips. your tongue is quickly involved, though harry's not complaining as you explore his mouth with hunger.

he's a bit flustered at your boldness, but isn't afraid of it. if anything harry only enjoys seeing you quickly submit to your desire for him. he wasn't sure how this would go, but clearly you've wanted this as badly as he has, if not even worse.

his hands finally begin to wander as he traces your collarbones lightly, his fingers running over the jewels of the necklace he bought you. "look so pretty in my gift," harry tells you between kissing you. you moan in response, your hips finding harry's as you only bring him closer to you.

before long you're dragging harry to his bed, his hands falling from your shoulders to your waist and down to your hips. 

you sit on his bed, and your hand instantly lands on harry's belt, lingering fingers on the cold metal. harry just looks at you in shock. he didn't expect you to initiate anything like this so quickly.

"u-uh…" is all he can say with you looking up at him like that, your eyes already drooping so seductively as you messed with his buckle innocently.

"please?" you taunt him, your finger making its way down his semi erected cock under his slacks.

harry sighs. he wants to, he really wants to, but he wonders if it's too much all at once for you. he doesn't want you to think this is all he was looking for.

"[y/n]...i, i really like you…you don't have to–""i like you too, harry," you interrupt him, a sweet smile on your bitten lips. "i want this. so bad. please. you don't have to, but…" you practically beg, your fingers still toying with the latch of the belt as you bring your pouted lips closer to it.

harry sighs again, his hand stroking your hair as he admires you from above. so pretty, so innocent. it's like you wanted him to ruin all of that.

"i want to, but, you don't have to," harry reminds you, his cheeks starting to turn red. you giggle, and it only makes harry even more turned on. "i want to, but, you don't have to," you mock him, slowly unbuckling his belt and slacks.

harry chuckles nervously, watching you intently. he really does want to, and as long as you want to as well, who's he to deny you of what you both want?

soon your mouth is wrapped around the tip of his cock through his briefs, your warm tongue laid flat across the head as you continue watching harry's expression through your eyelashes.

his head is rolling back in pleasure already, his erection only getting more uncomfortable as it hardens in response to you.

you help him take his underwear off, and your lips reattach to the head of his cock, your tongue licking his precum. he's watching you with a lax jaw, his eyebrows furrowed as you continue running your tongue in circles around the sensitive tip.

he's already in pure bliss, his hand finding your hair again as he continues to admire you. even when you're in such a filthy position below him, you still look so soft and beautiful.

from this angle he has the perfect view of your breasts, and you notice his eyes flickering from your own down to your chest. pulling your lips off of harry, you pull down the neckline of your dress and let your tits pop out of the restricting fabric.

harry can hardly believe the sight he's witnessing in front of him.

before he can try to process just how incredibly sexy you look with your elegant dress pulled down below your tits, your mouth returned to his throbbing cock, along with your hands. you start to bring more of him into your mouth, using your hands to stroke him slowly. harry was practically thrusting into your hands and mouth at that point, desperate for relief.

you can see how worked up harry's getting, so you stop, much to his disappointment. you have harry lay on his bed as you make a show taking your dress the rest of the way off along with your shoes and stockings. once you're left only in your panties, you get back on top of harry to kiss him again.

"so fucking beautiful, darling," harry growls into your lips, his hands grabbing for your tits. you giggle, your hands going to harry's button up as you start to take it off of him.

once it comes off, you pull harry back into the kiss. his hand travel down to your hips as you start grinding against his throbbing cock. "baby, please," he pleads, the teasing becoming too much.

you giggle again, sliding your panties off carefully with harry's help. he also helps you line yourself up with him as you slowly lower yourself onto harry's cock.

your eyes roll in pleasure, a slight whimper of discomfort escaping your lips as harry's hand goes to your face, comforting you. "slow, my love," he reminds you, guiding your hips with his other hand.

once you're starting to moan in pleasure, your speed increases, your eyes locking with harry's as you already feel pressure begin to build inside you.

just looking at him makes you whimper pathetically. "god, harry, i've wanted this for so long," you tell him, leaning down for another kiss as you readjust your position on top of him.

harry's hands trace the curves of your body as you continue riding him, his thoughts incoherent as the pleasure rises by the second. your heavy breathing into his ear and beautiful body against his in the lowlight of his room is everything he's ever wanted.

"wanted you so bad, [y/n]," harry moans as you sit back up, your tits bouncing as you grind down into harry's cock.

he admires your body, your perfect curves, your insane hips, and he's even more turned on. you're already truly perfect in every way, but you have the most phenomenal body harry's ever witnessed to top it all off.

"you're perfect," he tells you, his hands gripping for your hips and ass. you giggle, your hand covering your flustered smile as you continue whimpering and whining, riding him into your own oblivion.

"h-harry…" your voice is so broken it only makes harry hungrier, his hips thrusting upwards slightly into you to relieve the tension. "fuck," he cries, his eyes going dark just watching you fall apart for him.

"harry…please…" you lean back down, your lips grazing his ear as you made your request. "cum inside me?"

harry's in disbelief, he pulls you back to see if you're joking, but you're only looking at him hopefully through hooded eyes, still riding his cock in perfect rhythm.

"are you crazy, [y/n]?" he asks with a laugh, his eyes searching yours for any sign of sarcasm, his stomach still tightening in overwhelming pleasure.

"yes. for you." you tell him seriously, your pace quickening on top of him, your tits bouncing against harry's chest. he winces from the rush of pleasure.

"f-fuck, [y/n]," he utters, barely able to hold himself bsck.

you moan, your hands grabbing harry's as you pin them down beside him. "mm, keep moaning my name like that, harry, you're gonna make me cum already…" you tell him, your face resting against his.

harry moans your name repeatedly, only getting more and more desperate as you pleasure yourself using his cock. he was almost completely lost in the moment before you squealed, your hands squeezing harry's as you tightened around his cock, your hips stuttering as you ride out your high, breathing heavily.

harry's overwhelmed with the feeling and sight of you orgasming on him, your face twisting as you moan his name in return, filthy sounds escaping your innocent lips. he's getting closer before he remembers what you asked him.

"i'm, [y/n], i'm gonna cum," harry says as you're still moving your hips to satisfy your climax. you moan again, letting your head fall into harry's neck as you continue holding down his hands. your pace quickens again, and harry is a mess under you.

"cum inside me harry, please, give it to me, i'm yours, i want to be all yours, please, please, harry, breed me and make my pussy yours," you have no shame in begging harry, his hips bucking as you only grind against him quicker.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's cursing, slightly in panic. he wants to cum so badly, and the idea of you wanting him to breed you just from the first time you're together makes him even more turned on. part of him is scared, but it only ends up fueling the desire and taboo more as harry finally unloads inside of you, his voice breaking as he continues cursing between heavy breaths.

you're enjoying the moment thoroughly, your pussy quivering as it's filled with harry's warm cum. you go to give him another kiss, and he can barely reciprocate.

you giggle at harry a bit, wincing as you gently pull his cock outside of you. harry groans, but his eyes remained closed, still catching his breath. you offer to help him clean up, and it takes a moment, but he agrees, following you to his bathroom and admiring your naked body in the soft light of the room.

afterwards, harry insists you stay with him for the night as he hands you one of his favorite shirts to sleep in. you accept, laughing at his lovesick attitude already, and climb into bed beside him for the night.

harry can hardly believe he has you in his arms, finally, after being so captivated by you for practically his whole life. he's thankful to have you next to him, smiling as you trace his skin, telling him how much you've liked him this whole time, how you don't care if your parents don't approve, and how much you need him in your life. harry feels at peace with you, his little slytherin, in his bed, the moon the only source of light across your tired face. he truly finds you so beautiful, inside and out.

[dalliancekay]

Heaven vs Hell

Which is worse? Can horrible be measured?

Should Aziraphale have Fallen to be with Crowley? Is he selfish for not choosing to Fall like Gabriel when Gabriel tried to be with Beez?

Would they have a bigger chance to be together in Hell than being on 'opposite sides' on Earth?

I doubt it. Even if Crowley earned some brownie points and maybe a dukedom for dragging an angel to Hell, how free would they actually be to be together? I bet that kind of behaviour would be frowned upon and deeply disliked by all other demons and we saw that many are happy to climb up however they can. Especially over others. Besides, Crowley never wanted power in Hell and definitely didn't want to spend time there if he didn't have to.

So, was Crowley simply considerate to Aziraphale's attachment to being an angel when he decided not to take him to Hell after Aziraphale lied to Gabriel about Job's kids? Did he not take him Down just cos the angel 'wouldn't like it'?

"No more world. Just endless Heaven or, depending who won, endless Hell. Crowley didn't know which was worse. Well, Hell was worse, of course, by definition."

I feel like when I see people saying Crowley is respecting Aziraphale's desire to be an angel and avoiding/being scared of Falling; which (they assume/insinuate) would make it easier for them to be together, that they don't really respect Aziraphale's decision the same way as Crowley does (if it even is one), but blame Az for being selfish and choosing God and his angel status over his love for Crowley. Blame Aziraphale for being patronising, thinking he's better than Crowley, thinking he's too good to Fall. But also that Crowley shouldn't be in Hell and should be an angel again as his Falling was unfair. I see many takes that this is what Aziraphale thinks, but where do we see that? We only see Crowley musing on his Fall. We don't see Aziraphale, right?

We don't know why Crowley Fell.

We have only his vague words for it. Saying he didn't really mean to. We don't know if anyone Fell ever again after the War. It was very likely a threat used over the angels though. It didn't work for Gabriel. It must have been what he expected would happen. And that Beez would help him out. Other demons too scared of them to say anything. However, he was going to have his memory wiped instead. For basically a treason. Metatron, whether he suspected what was going on or not, outwitted him.

After Eden, Aziraphale MUST have expected punishment for giving away of his weapon. If not outright Falling.

How long did he spend in anxiety over this? Over what will happen to him?

And how long did Aziraphale sit here, wondering what Hell would be like and when it will arrive for him? For lying and deceiving like that.

And ok he's worried about Hell but how BAD is Heaven exactly? Is Aziraphale blind to how bad it is? Is he staying with them because he's loyal? Because he believes they are the light? The truth?

How long has it been since Aziraphale knew Heaven was not Good?

Apparently since before Angel!Crowley knew.

"You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there," he said. "I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to one up there," said Aziraphale. "Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy," said Crowley sourly. "Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?" "Sure," said the demon. "There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-" "I meant afterwards." "Oh."

Crowley loves his beautiful, soft, good, brave angel.

An angel who lies to his bosses when he thinks he can get away with it, who indulges in 'gross matter' even if it's frowned upon.

Crowley can't do good things openly. And we see him struggle with that.

Why would he want this for his angel who cares about strangers shooting each other in a game, saves babies in pushchairs and doves that accidentally asphyxiated in his sleeve, who waves away months of rent.

Yes, Heaven and Hell might both be awful places.

But that doesn't mean that good and bad things don't exist.

Nobody would call Muriel evil, right? Not even Jim was bad in S2. The nature vs nurture debate has a clear winner in his case. I don't know if Free Will has rubbed off on Az and Crowley or they were always different. Made different perhaps.

Although, without Free Will, how did Lucifer make his decisions against God?

Back to our Husbands.

Crowley hates Hell. He thinks it's an awful place and the demons are terrible. He's afraid of them and avoids them as much as he can.

Aziraphale is extremely uncomfortable in Heaven. He has disagreed with many things they do for literal aeons. Has warned Angel!Crowley immediately when they met and has trusted demon Crawley with his sword story as soon as he met him even thought he lies to literal God about the very same thing shortly after.

Aziraphale lies to the Supreme Archangel and a bunch of others over Job. He's questioned them on those decisions as well. He wonders if God is really asking for what they are saying She's asking. Clearly he didn't have a way to ask Her directly back then.

And he couldn't get through to Her when the world was ending either. And he felt that couldn't be right.

Aziraphale and Crowley are nobodies in their respective jobs.

Worse, they are pitied if not worse, for having jobs stationed on Earth.

Neither angels not demons care for humans, apart from them making up their numbers of acquisitions. But our hereditary enemies are more than that from the moment they meet in Eden. And their bond only grows stronger.

The bond that brings them so much joy and so much anxiety and fear.

They stopped the Armageddon but it didn't give them the freedom they wanted, the one they deserve. They spent more time together, yes.

But. Heaven, who after all came up with the idea of Hell, found a way to separate them.

How much of this was their personal decision and how much enforced, we won't find out until S3.

But Aziraphale didn't want Crowley to become an angel because he doesn't understand or see how bad Heaven is. He wanted him to come because he does.

Yes. Of course. Aziraphale knows this. How could he not. But he also knows the boss of Heaven just told him he must return. Didn't seem like he was gonna take no for an answer. And Aziraphale tried.

Until Metatron brought Crowley into the conversation. Saying he knows about them. Their partnership. The thing Aziraphale feared more than anything else. Someone noticing just how deep their 'partnership' went.

Crowley, I really don't think that would have worked. And I know you know it wouldn't either. Just as much as running to Alpha Centauri wouldn't. You know, and Aziraphale doesn't, that Second Coming is being planned. That this is why Gabriel was fired. And this you can't escape. There's nowhere to go.

Their love is what makes Aziraphale and Crowley powerful. The love that no one, not even Gabriel and Beelzebub can understand. And it is this love that will save them in the end. What has always saved them.

Not Aziraphale's angelhood or Crowley's demon status.

Aziraphale's home is the one he built for himself and Crowley.

It's not really a place though. It's a bookshop for a while, a moment in history, but his home is them, looking into each other's eyes forever.

Because no thing lasts forever. But they might. And they will.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Clothes make the man

AN: There is no plot here. This is just porn. I have nothing to say for myself other than this is Kai's (@lovelyhan ) fault, and this outfit has haunted me for three years now. I had to get this out of my system. I resisted with the Daddy kink this time around but, this is still me largely pushing my 'Joshua is kinkier than I feel like people give him credit for' agenda so. Now I'll disappear in shame and embarrassment *finger guns.*

Synopsis: You don't expect to feel so strongly about one of Joshua's stage outfits.

Heads up: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, established relationship, Dom! Joshua, Sub! Reader, mentions of previous thigh riding, Reader mentions boot humping in passing once, scent kink if you squint, hand and arm kink of sorts (Reader is really into Josh's hands and arms), praise (f. receiving), pet names, Reader has an oral fixation, Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, hints of a size kink, dirty talk, mirror sex, nipple play (f. receiving), degradation (f. receiving), risky sex/public sex (they fuck in Josh's dressing room and are vaguely worried about being caught), vaginal fingering (f. receiving), mostly clothed sex, me pushing my big dick! Josh agenda, unprotected piv sex, Reader sucks on Josh's fingers post fingering, it's insinuated that Reader is a masochist, rough sex, dacryphilia kink, creampie and Reader being plugged afterwards.

Word count: 3499

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The cool air from the air conditioner prompts you to tug your cardigan closer to you as you continue to catch up on your scrolling for the day while you wait for Joshua. He texted you that he'd likely be finished with his group shoot for the day in the next half an hour or so and, that you could just wait in his dressing room before the two of you head home.

He finds you completely engrossed with your phone when he does eventually finish up for the day. His lips ticking up in amusement since you still haven't registered his presence.

"Is what's on your phone really more important than your precious boyfriend? I'm hurt," he says with a faux pout to catch your attention. Leaning against his dressing room door.

You pointedly choose to ignore his chuckle when his voice quite literally causes you to jump in your seat. You turn to face him sheepishly, "Hi, Josh. I'm sorry I didn't realise-"

The words die on your tongue in an instant when you take in what he's wearing.

His shirt accentuates his shoulders in a way that is wholly unnecessary. Worse still, his arms are on full display for you to drink in. Muscles flexing and veins visible while he stands there with his arms crossed. And god, his pants. They all but force your eyes to focus on how they flatter his thighs, and you're suddenly hit with a barrage of memories. Memories of Josh flexing them underneath you while you hump them in an attempt to cum. An amused gleam in his eyes as he watched you because you both knew you'd never cum the way you wanted to.

Is it horrible to admit that even his boots are so attractive? In the very deep, private parts of your mind, you think he'd like the idea of watching you grind against them to get off. Maybe if you ever find the courage, you'll ask him.

"Are you okay?"

You're broken out of your thoughts by Joshua's concerned voice. Blinking, you focus back on him only to find his handsome face twinged with confusion and worry. The way his inky hair sticks to said handsome face isn't helping your conundrum, but you do feel guilty for worrying him when you're spiralling over him in one of his stage outfits.

"Yeah, I am. Sorry, I just got a little in my head there."

"In your head? About what?" Dread coils in your gut at the question. You're determined to look anywhere but, directly at him. Fiddling with your phone in your hands while your mind races to think of a half decent answer.

"Um- just school. You know, this semester's been pretty busy. Plus, I have a few assignments due in the next month, so I've been trying to figure out how to schedule my calendar around them. Then it'll be the holiday, but you know never too soon to start preparing -" You're rambling. You know you are, and so does Josh, but the words continue to tumble out of you.

"You're a terrible liar," he interrupts, and you can hear the smirk in his voice clear as day. To your absolute horror, he's moving closer to you until he's intimately in your personal space. Oh, this is worse. So, so much worse. Because his scent invades your senses too and, embarrassment warms your face when it dawns on you that you're wet.

His large, warm hand cups your jaw and gently nudges your face up until you meet his intense gaze. His thumb strokes your cheek gently when and, you so badly want it in your mouth instead, but your mouth feels as though it's been stapled shut.

Dread, anticipation and desire form a lethal concoction in your veins when Josh's face shifts from concern and confusion to understanding. The corners of his plump lips lifting up in way that muddles your mind further and causes more of your wetness to trickle onto your panties.

"Oh, I get it now," he rumbles with a laugh that's far too amused, "If you wanted me, you could've just said so." You suddenly find his face mere centimetres from your own with hold on your face keeping you from shying away. Even after being with him for all this time, you still find it difficult to meet his gaze head on occasionally. Maybe you're afraid he'll see just how truly far gone you are for him. Maybe his eyes will finally devour you whole and, you don't know if you'd ever be able to come back from that.

"Where'd you go? Come back to me," he coaxes gently, his face softening momentarily while his thumb drags along your bottom lip. Blinking up at him you finally find your voice again and the words rush out of you, "I'm here. I-I want it. Want you."

Kissing Josh is perhaps one of your favourite activities to partake in with him. His lips are so soft and, even as his tongue teases its way into his mouth, he takes his time. Determined to rile you up just with his mouth and his firm grasp on your face. Your hands reach up for him, feeling like you'll be driven to madness if you don't touch him somehow, somewhere, anywhere. Your hands find purchase on his massive biceps. Hisses pressed against your lips when your nails bite into his skin.

A whine leaves you before you can stop it when he pulls away from you, looking down at you through dark bangs and lidded eyes. "Can we go home?" You ask, your panties starting to cling to you uncomfortably just from this godforsaken outfit and some kissing. You're not sure how much longer can take not having him.

"What's got you so riled up?" He asks instead, genuine curiosity colouring his tone. You elect not to give him a direct response, "Can't I just think my boyfriend is hot?"

"Oh, you absolutely can and, while I'm flattered, we both know me being just hot doesn't get you nearly this worked up," he retorts, leaning down once more to lightly kiss along your neck. His hands shoving your cardigan from your shoulders until it pools around you. You bite back the whimpers that so desperately want to fall from you with every brush of Joshua's lips against your sensitive skin. Your thighs rubbing together in search of any semblance of relief.

"Come on, be a good girl and tell me," he mutters, one of his large hands dragging down your body until it rests a little too high on your upper thigh. "Or do you want me to get it out of you another way?"

"Your outfit," you blurt out immediately, you know Josh's mind is always coming up with frighteningly inventive ways to punish you and, you don't think you could handle that today. Not with how you're barely keeping it together as it is, "You- You look good. Really, really good."

That makes him take pause, "Really? That's it?" He doesn't sound judgemental or as though you just told him the most idiotic thing the world. Just... genuinely surprised.

"Yes," you whine, "Now can we go home please?"

You nearly choke on your spit when he resumes his assault on your poor throat, and his hand finds itself between your thighs, automatically spreading for him because of course they do. Something guttural and from the depths of his chest hit your ear when his fingers brush against your slick panties. Prompting your hips to chase the friction, tightening your hold on him as well.

"Fuck. Fuck, you weren't kidding," he breathes as though you've completely knocked the wind from him. However, he's gone from your body in instant, "Shua, where are you-"

Your question is answered when you see him lock the door only to stock back over to you, his erection testing the durability of these pants and somehow making them look more appealing. Saliva pooling in your mouth while your walls clamp down borderline painfully around nothing.

"My poor baby. I don't think you'll last until we get home," he says, his thumb dragging along your bottom lip. His eyes darken further when he eases it into your mouth, and you suck immediately. Just happy to have anything occupying your mouth.

"I'll just take care of you here. Up," he commands, stepping away from you to give you space to rise to your feet. You blink up at him but when you're only met with an eyebrow raise, you stand up immediately. Letting your cardigan, phone and bag rest on the chair as your boyfriend looms over you. The intent in his eyes more than enough to quicken your heartrate and stiffen your nipples under your casual dress.

"So you do know how to listen," is all the warning you receive before you're all but, shoved against his vanity. One of his hands fondling your breast over your dress while the other drags you by the hip until there's no space between the two of you. His erection burns against your stomach even through the layers of your clothing. Just as heavy with intent.

You moan into his mouth with every brush and squeeze of his hand over your breast, electricity shooting straight down your spine to your clit with every one of his touches but, it's not enough. You want to feel him.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, Joshua has always had a knack for being six steps ahead of you, you find yourself facing your reflection in his mirror. You already look like a mess. Eyes glazed and a little watery with your lips bruised from how thoroughly he's been kissing you. The straps of your dress barely cling to your shoulders, and your breasts jiggle with every heaving breath you take.

A gasp flies from your lips and you hold onto his vanity when Josh presses himself, more specifically his erection, against you once more. You think you may lose your mind if he doesn't just fuck you. You're sure you're more than wet enough to take him by now. You're not quite sure whether you want him to keep his clothes mostly on or, touch his soft skin.

"You're distracted again," he tuts against your shoulder before pressing featherlight kisses to all of the skin he can reach there. A stark contrast to the way his hands roughly tug down the straps of your dress, your breasts free and goosebumps rising when they're met with the cool air of his dressing room.

He meets your gaze in the mirror as he touches them once again. A choked whimper gracing his ears when he barely drags the tips of his fingers over your nipples, "Maybe I'm doing a bad job keeping your attention," he pouts but, that look is in his eyes. Your knees nearly buckle when he tugs on them more harshly this time, soothing them with gentle rubs that make you feel dizzy.

"Is this why you didn't wear a bra today?" The drop of a few octaves in his voice significantly worsen how empty you are in this very moment, "So I'd touch and play with your tits?"

"What a slut you are."

His words coupled with his stupid, stupid, skillfull hands force a drawn out mewl from your throat. Your foggy mind desperately trying to find any words to respond to him.

"Josh- Shua, no I- I didn't think I'd take long to pick y-you up. So, I didn't wear one," you whimper in response after a particularly harsh tug. He puts on a show of humming in thought as though he's not still pinching and toying with your nipples, tears building in your eyes with ever minute he's not inside of you.

"I don't know," he drawls, the air in your lungs stopping as one of his hands snakes its way down your dress until it reaches the apex of your thighs, "Something tells me you didn't wear one so I'd just have to bend you over and fuck you."

If everyone could only see their sweet Joshua now. Spilling filth against your skin while his hand assesses how wet you are and his hips shallowly grind against the swell of your ass for a bit of friction. They'd likely have an aneurism.

A moan far louder than you intended bounces off the walls of his dressing room when his fingers find your clit over your ruined panties. His eyes shutting briefly as if to collect himself before he continues drawing steady circles. You've never been more grateful for the table in front of you because you're sure you would've collapsed into a heap on the floor if you didn't have it to support you.

"Not too loud," he mutters into your skin with a self-satisfied glint in his eyes. His hand slipping into your panties to touch you a directly, his throaty groan combining with the moan that you couldn't quite bite back in time when as his fingers tease your wet folds. Your eyes screwing shut as they shallowly dip in and out of your neglected hole.

His hands still, and that prompts you to open your eyes, confused as to what made him stop. "None of that. I want you to see. I want you to watch," he says, his reflection holding your gaze once more. His other hand drifting to hold your jaw in place. Not too harshly but, with enough pressure that you know better than to move.

Whether as a reward or because he simply wants to, eventually sinks a thick finger into you. The stretch prompts a jumbled mess of gasps and whimpers from your chest. Your eyes barely remaining open with the relief of finally having something inside of you.

"There you go," he groans against your neck, his teeth ghosting over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake, "That's my baby."

The angle is a little awkward but, your hips chase the curls of his finger regardless. The need to shove down all of your noises of pleasure becoming increasingly challenge with every exploitation of your weaknesses Josh uses against you.

You don't receive much of a warning this time when he eases a second finger into you, this time the stretch is a little more than you can handle, "J-Josh," you choke out, your wetness dripping down his palm.

"My slutty girl you're doing so good," he coos, kissing the back of your neck while he grinds his erection against your ass, "Taking my fingers so well. Can't wait to feel you on my cock."

That causes a more visceral reaction from you. Your walls clamping down on his long fingers as one of your hands grabs his forearm, "Please. Pl-Please. Shua please. I-I want it please," you couldn't feel embarrassed if you tried. Joshua tended to have that effect on you.

He rests his head against your shoulder briefly, "Gimme a second," he says, the dip of his voice sending shudders down your spine. You cringe a little when he pulls his fingers out of you, your wetness coating them generously. You watch him unbutton and unzip his pants with baited breath, "Can you- can you keep your clothes on?"

Joshua meets your gaze with his eyebrows raised before that knowing look returns to his face. He laugh would sound beautiful if you his cock wasn't minutes from being inside of you and you weren't dripping onto his dressing room floor, "Sure."

Your gratitude comes out as a strangled whimper when the fat head of his cock prods at your slick entrance, "I don't know if I should be offended that you're this wet because of some clothes and fingering," he mutters. You couldn't respond to him even if you tried. Your mind just occupied with the idea of finally being filled by him.

"Cock drunk already huh?" He muses, meeting your gaze briefly before glancing down to watch himself split you open. His quiet moans being drowned out by your much, much more vocal ones. You're not sure you'll ever quite grow accustomed to his first thrust. Especially given the rush and your impatience, his slow push into you stings a little bit more more than usual but, the pain only fuels your arousal.

"Fuck," he groans and you're inclined to agree with his sentiment, "Always so wet and tight for me." If you could find the words you'd tell him the reason you're so tight is because of how big he is but, you're too preoccupied with trying to remain standing.

He's nestled so deeply inside of you when he finally bottoms out. His hips flush against yours and his tip kissing your cervix, quieter whimpers leave you with every throb and pulse of him inside of you. "Open," he grits into your ear, his fingers still slick with your wetness resting on your bottom lip. You open your mouth without much of a second thought, the slightly salty taste of your wetness flooding your taste buds and you realise very quickly why Joshua shoved his fingers into your mouth.

He pulls back only to thrust back into you without much mercy, your moans fortunately being muffled by his fingers. His heavy, lidded gaze takes in the way your drool around him, some of it dribbling past your lips while he continues to fuck into harshly and quickly. He's not sure how much time he has left before someone comes knocking so, he'd rather make this quick. He can take his time with you when you're at home.

You gag around his fingers slightly when he angles his thrusts marginally, smirking when he hits that spot inside of you that causes you grip him like a vice and nearly go limp in his arms. Joshua supports you through it all. Hitting that spot over and over again until overwhelmed tears trickle down your face and you're sure you could cum from this alone and, his muffled groans and grunts with every unforgiving intrusion.

"You know what your tears do to me, baby," he moans hoarsely, his thrusts stuttering slightly when he drinks in the combination of tears and spit smeared on your gorgeous face. All you can do is nod hurriedly. Telling him without telling him that you want it. You want him to cum.

"My precious cumslut of a girlfriend," he laughs breathlessly and without much humour, his pace picking up considerably and the sounds of your wetness and his heavy balls slapping against you ringing out obscenely throughout the room. "Always so greedy for my cum," he moans against your shoulder, his other hand hurriedly reaching between your thighs to rub frantic circles against your neglected clit.

Now you really are happy he had the foresight to make you gag on his fingers. You're not sure you could've silenced yourself even if you tried your utmost. The symphony of your choked noises of pleasure and Joshua's muffled ones join the increasing noises echoing throughout the room. Your walls tighten around him viciously, your toes tingling and even more tears springing forth from your eyes.

Josh cums first. A throaty groan of your name and a few curse words your only warning before you feel him pulse inside of you. Ropes and ropes of his warm cum flooding your awaiting pussy, his hips jerking into you sporadically and his hold on you almost bruising. His attempts to keep rubbing your clit proved fruitful because it doesn't take you long to tumble over the proverbial edge along with him. It takes a significant amount of conscious effort not to bite down on his fingers as your orgasm rocks your system. Josh moaning again as your walls spasm and clamp around his softening cock.

Once you'd ridden out the more intense parts of your climax, Josh removes his fingers from your mouth. Your shared, laboured breathing the only sounds that could be heard.

"If I knew you'd react like this to my outfit, I would have worn it sooner," he says with a chuckle that sounds far too full of himself. Not that he doesn't have a right to be but still. "You just look really good okay, god," you mutter once your voice finds you again. Cringing both from the scratchy quality of your voice and, Joshua slowly pulling out of you. Quickly putting your panties back in place. A surprised gasp flying from your lips when he pushes the fabric into you with two of his long fingers.

"Wouldn't want you to waste it," he says, his eyes heavy with want once again when they they find yours, "After all you worked so hard being my little cumslut. Who knows, maybe if you manage to not leak a drop I'll fill you up again."

You resent the way your body shudders but, you nod all the same, "I won't spill a drop, Shua."

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[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. xii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: Things with Joel come to a head when you're forced on a patrol together. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 5k chapter warnings: CANON TYPICAL CONTENT/VIOLENCE/SUFFERING. Angst/arguments. Discussions of death, descriptions of being ambushed, blood and injuries. Keeping these vague so as not to spoil but if for whatever reason the show was 'too much' for you, this might be a good chapter to skip. If you want a TLDR I can give you one in the DMs. a/n: I didn't really proofread this chapter because I fought with it a bunch and just wanted to get it out to ya'll. Please enjoy!

**I DO NOT HAVE A TAGLIST. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

-April 30, 2024-

It’s an uncharacteristically chilly day, but something heavy still hangs in the air as you walk downtown with Ethan. Well really, – Ethan is walking, you aren’t. At least, not quite. He’s so tall, and his strides are so long, that every couple steps you have to jog a pace or two just to keep up with him. Years ago, when it had just been the two of you on your own, he had been a lot better at waiting up for you. But this is the new norm. There’s no imminent danger, so it’s not necessary to watch each other’s backs. Even so, you find that you’re still always looking out for him out of habit.

A group of younger women pass by you, arms looped through one anothers as they giggle and talk – you can’t help but feel a little bitter at the sight, nostalgic for what that sort of camaraderie felt like. But before you can dwell on it too much, one of the girls’ face lights up and she waves to your nephew. 

“Hey Ethan,” she grins. 

Ethan does a double-take, pace faltering as he looks over his shoulder to give her a smile. “Hey.” 

The moment is over as quick as it began. For the most part, you know most of Ethan’s friends, and most of the people in the community. But you don't recognize this girl. 

“Who was that?” you ask. 

“No one,” he answers quickly. 

“Really? You don’t know her name?”

“Shhh!” He pushes you forward to put more distance between you and the group that has already passed, and it’s funny how you always seem to forget he’s a grown man whose strength far outweighs your own. “Can you just be cool?”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Can I not ask a question?” 

“You can….at a lower volume.”

You snort, but continue on, whispering. “Okay, fine. She’s cute. Is she new here?”

“I don’t know,” he says, tone bordering on defensive. “Why do you care so much? Isn’t she a little young for you?” 

“Oh my god, Ethan,” you’re slightly offended by the insinuation. “All I was going to say was she seemed happy to see you.” 

“Yeah, well…” he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks over his shoulder. “Cool, whatever.”

“You are just like your dad,” you say. “He was always so bad at playing it cool.” 

This softens Ethan a bit, and you watch his shoulders sag. After Vincent died, you had made it a point to tell Ethan everything you could about his father. Even though it hurt, and reminded you of how much you missed him everyday, surprisingly, it ended up feeling like a good way to mourn him, and work through everything you had been through. 

"Oh, yeah?" he teases. "And you are?"

You have a feeling you know what he's going to bring up, so instead of questioning him further, you change the subject.

“God, it’s kind of cold,” you comment, wrapping your jacket closer around you as a breeze whirls past you. 

“What, can’t you handle it?” Ethan teases. “It might even rain. That’ll be a long day.” 

You’d walked into town with him to begin with because he was going to eat breakfast in the mess hall, and you had a patrol shift. “I’ll be fine.” you say, even as your stomach flips. Every shift comes with its own set of nerves. For as much as you don’t like the feeling, you know that the apprehension keeps you sharp. 

And really, you like being outside the walls. Years spent in the wilderness have made the remote area feel like home – you love the feeling of the breeze rustling through your hair, the ever present smell of the pines. Plus, you're usually partnered up with good company, even if things get stressful. 

Still, today….something feels off. Maybe it’s the low barometric pressure. 

“I oughta go, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you turn to look at Ethan, and he gives you a nod and salute before ducking into the mess hall.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Tommy, no,” you put your hands on your hips. “Me and Joel? That's a terrible idea.”

“I don’t have any other options,” he says. “Eugene is out sick. There’s no one else available for me to pair you with.” 

“Yeah right,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “I know how much you love to meddle.”

“Who, me?” he asks, incredulous, but there’s a grin on his face.

Being in Jackson has domesticated you, because a different version of yourself would’ve probably slapped the grin off of Tommy’s face, turned in your cowboy boots and stomped out of the barn. But you feel such aggressive retaliation will only betray your feelings for Joel. 

It’s only been a few weeks since dinner at Tommy and Maria’s and despite the small moment you shared with Joel on their back porch, nothing much has changed. You’re not sure why you desperately want things to. You’re not even sure what you’re hoping for anymore – kindness seems unlikely, but even his cruelty would be preferable to being ignored.

“I can go by myself,” you offer. “I know the area. No one needs to take Eugene’s spot.” 

Tommy scoffs. “If I did allow that – which I won’t, because it’s rule number one – and Maria found out, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Tommy, it…” you sigh. “He wants nothing to do with me. It’ll be horrible, and awkward. For the sake of everyone, it’s better we keep our distance.”

“He’ll come around,” Tommy says. “I promise.”

“I don’t need him to,” you say, and it’s convincing enough that you believe it, even if only for a second.

“Come on. What’s the worst that can happen?” Tommy asks. “It might be awkward, but you’ll scout some places out, find a couple cans of food, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

You set your jaw, tilt your head. “Fine. But you know I’m not going to be the easy one to convince.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he says. 

Almost as if on cue, you turn at the sound of footsteps, and find Joel standing in the doorway to the empty stall you were arguing with Tommy in. 

Great. 

“Joel,” Tommy says. “I’ve paired the two of you up today. Two of our other rangers are out sick.” 

Joel looks at you. “Absolutely not.” 

“There it is,” you purse your lips, and glance knowingly at Tommy. 

“Well, I don’t have any other options.” Tommy begins. “Plus, we usually pair newbies up with our more experienced rangers to help them."

Joel lets out a barking laugh. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

For a second, he meets your eyes, and you avert your own to the floor. Hearing him be so vehemently against interacting with you, even though you’d expected it, isn't exactly a pleasant experience.

“It’s not babysitting,” Tommy says. “She’s been in the community longer, so she knows the terrain better than you do.”

“Who else is there?” 

“Joel,” Tommy says. “This is not a negotiation. It’s an order.”

Turns out it is a negotiation, because there’s quite a bit more back and forth between the two of them – so much so that you end up brushing past Joel to go saddle up your horse, Neptune. You catch snippets of the conversation, whispered in hushed tones, but you’re too annoyed to piece them into anything coherent. 

Eventually, though, Tommy mutters something about looking after Ellie and Joel gives in, the barn falling silent as he goes off to prep for his shift.

You had seen Ellie several times at Tommy and Maria’s over the past few weeks, and she even approached you once when she found you eating alone at the mess hall. The two of you don’t really talk much about Joel, but she did give you a bit of an explanation about how they ended up together. According to her, he was tasked with bringing her out to some Fireflies base camp because her family was there, but when they arrived the camp was overrun. The story begs more questions than it does answers, in your opinion, but you don’t bother trying to poke holes in it. There’s certainly parts of your past you wouldn’t want to explain to anyone if questioned. 

In some ways, she does remind you of Sarah…it sort of makes sense they ended up together, even if they’re quite the odd pair. Like Sarah, Ellie is smart and clever – but where they differ is where she reminds you more of yourself at her age. Very passionate with a bit of a mean streak. It was a defense mechanism that, as you got older, you had gotten better at channeling, but only when you needed to. 

Tommy sends you and Joel both north to scout an area you’re pretty familiar with. Joel keeps his horse several paces up ahead of you, which becomes frustrating, especially since you know where you’re going and he doesn’t, and you have to keep calling out and instructing him to change the course. He does so wordlessly, but refuses to let his horse fall into step beside yours, keeping his shoulders hunched and his head hung low. 

You think back to the beginning of the outbreak, and all the things you had lost. At that point, you still had Vincent, but even your brother couldn’t offer the support you had needed. You had wanted Joel, had craved the feeling of comfort and safety that only he had ever been able to give you. And even though you’d been forced to give up looking for him, you had always hoped he could feel you. Even now, it’s all you want. But he seems oblivious. And as your patience wears thin, you know something between you is bound to snap. 

In some areas of the mountains, the terrain is so rough you have to dismount to lead your horses through it. This area isn’t frequented often, mostly because the loose and large rocks you tread over is a natural repellent to both humans and Infected. But it’s not impossible to traverse, so you still have to keep an eye out. 

You don’t find much, but the farther into the woods you get, the darker the sky becomes. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you hope the storm skips over you, even though it seems unlikely. Despite dressing for the occasion, you’re still cold as the wind picks up, and when you feel the first drops of rain, you pull up alongside Joel. 

“Might want to keep an eye out for shelter in case this gets any worse,” you say to him. Joel turns to look at you, and you catch, for a minute, a forlorn expression in his eyes. It disappears as he nods wordlessly, and you’re surprised he doesn’t argue with you. 

The storm grows more intense, the drops of rain turning into a full-on downpour, and lightning illuminates the sky. A spring thunderstorm. If you were at home today, you might’ve been curled up on the couch with a good book and a window cracked. But instead, you’re out in the middle of nowhere, forced into the company of your former lover who now hates you, torrential downpour soaking through your water-resistant jacket and making you shiver. 

Joel crests over a ridge, and pauses to point to a cabin maybe a quarter mile away. You’re in unfamiliar territory at this point, and it’ll probably need to be cleared out, but you’re desperate for a place to wait out the poor weather. 

As you near the cabin, you see it’s clearly abandoned. Inside, it’s been picked over. Furniture is strewn about, drawers and cabinets hanging open, but other than that…it’s in pretty decent shape. Good enough to be fixed up for an outpost, and you draw a rudimentary map to take back to Tommy, should any other rangers be sent to the area. 

Once the house is secured and you get the horses settled in the garage, you do your obligatory sweep of any drawers, cabinets, and closets. It’s mostly picked over, and nature has begun to take over in some of the rooms, the tree roots peaking through cracks in the wooden floor. 

Letting another cabinet fall closed, you sigh. 

“Find anything?” you’re surprised to hear Joel ask, as he comes down the stairs. 

“No,” you say. “You?” 

“Nothing,” Joel says, and sits onto an ancient couch. For a split second, you admire him, as he runs his fingers through his damp hair to push it off his forehead. You’re ashamed that you’re still attracted to him, potentially even moreso than you used to be. Maybe you always imagined growing old with him, and it was nice to see, even if the context was different. You knew that daydreaming about what could’ve been wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but thinking about your time with Joel, and the future you’d never have with him had gotten you through some of your darkest days. You wonder if he had ever thought about it, just to feel something other than sorrow. But with the way he’s been acting, you question if he ever even cared about you at all. 

With no other distractions to keep you occupied, all you can do now is sit across from him, and wait out the storm. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel picks up a well-worn book with broken binding off the shelf next to where he sits, and spares a glance your direction. You’re on a chair across from him, staring out the window. He can’t tell if you’re trying to keep watch or avoid talking to him. Either way, he doesn’t care. 

The book in his hands is a self-help book written by man who had lived in the wilderness for an entire year, and so generously detailed all the things he learned from the experience. Joel almost laughs at how ridiculous the description sounds. When he places the book back where he found it, you pipe up. 

“No good?” you ask. 

Joel shakes his head wordlessly. He’s been doing a pretty decent job of keeping you at arm's length. He tries to avoid the hurt he notices in your eyes whenever he brushes you aside, which is why he tends to keep his back to you, so he doesn't have to see it over and over again. It’s just the right thing to do. Letting Ellie into his life had been hard enough. He isn’t willing to make himself even more vulnerable. 

“Shit,” you say, looking disappointed. “Well if there’s nothing else to do, we might actually have to talk to each other.” 

Joel puts his arm over the back of the sofa, and looks out the window. “No?” you prompt. “Well then, can I at least ask you something?” 

“Depends.” 

“I guess I just have been thinking…” you trail off. “After everything….the fact that the two of us are together. Feels like….I don’t know. Do you think it means something?”

Joel looks over at you, finds you leaning forward in your chair. You discarded your jacket to dry on the railing of the staircase, and your flannel shirt hangs open as you lean onto your elbows, an expectant look on your face. 

Joel had learned long ago that it was senseless to look for meaning in this world. There was no rhyme or reason for why things happened the way they did – they just happened. All the good, and all the terrible. There was only so much he could do to control them, as much as he tried. And it made him feel helpless.

“It’s a coincidence.”

“Right,” you say, enunciating the T pointedly. He’s thankful when your jaw sets, and your expression gives nothing else away. “So what, then? We should just act like we’re strangers? Just pretend like…we never knew each other?”

“It was over twenty years ago. I’ve moved on,” Joel says. The more he can deflect, push you away, the more angry you’ll likely get, and the faster this conversation will end. 

But you surprise him. 

“Okay,” you say, looking at the floor. “I mean, I get it. I did too, because I thought you were dead. But you aren’t, so maybe we could just talk-”

“What is there to talk about?” Joel asks. 

You’re incredulous. “So many things, Joel. But you’ve been…so….” you struggle to find the words. “I don’t think this is a coincidence. And you’re right. It was a long time ago, so maybe it’s foolish to think that we could maybe-” you cut yourself off, shake your head. “I feel like I at least deserve to know why you want nothing to do with me now.” 

Joel notices how your knuckles are white from how tightly you have your hands clasped in one another’s. You’re probably angry. That’s what he wants. But you’re trying so hard to control yourself, to connect with him, and he’s shocked that you find him worthy of that energy no matter how many times he pushes you away. 

“I’m not the man you knew. You’re wasting your time.” 

You blink once. “Yeah. Okay. So that’s it?”

Joel remains stone faced.

“Well that’s,” you sigh, put your head in your hands for a split second, let out a choked sounding laugh, and look back over at him. “That’s so fucking stupid.” 

“How do you think I got here? How do you think I survived for as long as I did? I’m not the same woman that I was, either. But that’s just how it fucking works. You’re gonna spend the rest of your life using that as an excuse to push people away – a friend, your own fucking brother-”

Joel flinches at the confirmation you might be just as bad as he is. 

“Don’t bring Tommy into-”

“I’m not going to walk on eggshells whenever we’re together because you can’t deal with your own shit,” you raise your voice again.  

Joel feels his lip curl, wondering why you won’t just give up, why you won’t just accept the rejection. But your hypocrisy is what frustrates him the most. He thinks back to when you’d been together. You were the reason he never told you he loved you. You were like quicksilver, sitting in the palm of his hand, but you’d run the second he tried to hold you. He never really got you, all of you, like he had wanted. “That’s great advice from someone who was always so good at being vulnerable.” 

That one seems to hurt you enough, and you recoil slightly, sit up straighter. “Sure, yeah. I was young, and I was fucking….I was scared. But I-I’m trying to be better.” 

He can’t stand the broken look on your face, would rather keep you angry. “Do you think I owe you something? None of that stuff matters anymore.” 

“Really? None of it matters? Even Sarah knew–” 

That slices through the thread of restraint he has left. “Enough.” 

“I loved her, Joel,” you plead with him. “I loved her, too.”

Joel rises to his feet, his hands clench into fists, and you stand too. “Don’t-” 

“-And you won’t even,” you swallow hard to compose yourself as Joel paces to look out the window. The rain has died down considerably, like it knows there’s only so much energy allowed to exist in one place. “You pretend like we didn’t know each other, I knew you Joel. I know you. And I knew her, and-”

“I said that’s enough!” Joel grabs the closest thing he can find, a lamp sitting on the side table, and hurls it across the room. It shatters upon impact, glass shards spraying in the air. He’s desperate to scare you off, willing to do anything to get you to stop poking holes in his resolve, it feels like you can see right through him, and he has no place to hide. 

But you don’t even recoil from the outburst. In fact, you seem almost satisfied. In letting his emotions get the best of him, he's shown you how much he still cares. It doesn’t stop him from continuing on.

“You don’t know me, and she wasn’t your daughter. You will never understand what it is like to lose your own child.”

You exhale sharply, like he’s punched you in the gut, the color draining from your face. Eyes still red-rimmed, but the fire inside them is now gone. 

“Okay,” you say, voice trembling and you look out the window. “It’s not raining anymore, so I’m gonna head back.”

“We’re supposed to finish the-”

“I don’t want to be anywhere near you,” you say, swiping at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want to see you again, honestly. So just fuck off.” 

Within seconds, you’re gone, the garage door slamming behind you. Joel stays in place, even after he hears the measured beat of your horse running off into the woods. He’s done terrible things to a lot of people that didn’t deserve them – and he did them without a second thought. This had been exactly what he wanted, but this time, he’s filled with regret. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You can’t remember the last time you were this angry. 

Every nerve inside you is thrumming with electricity, and you are glad you’re alone, because you’re pretty sure the next person who touches you will get shocked. But even though you’re angry with Joel, you’re more angry with yourself. He had tried to warn you – and you just kept pushing. Why’d you allow yourself to grow so soft? To believe that you could both find a way to heal together? Bea had been wrong. Love was just another means to control someone else. Joel was no exception to the rule. 

Sure, there were things about you he didn’t understand. But you aren’t willing to give him any grace, not after the way he’d humiliated you, over and over….and you just let it happen. Maybe it was irresponsible to leave him there alone, but you didn’t care. He could find his way back, and even if he didn’t, it no longer mattered. 

The rage gives you tunnel vision, you can only see what’s directly in front of you, and even then, none of it registers. You’re not even sure how long you’ve been riding when you hear the gunfire rain down on you. 

It snaps you out of it – the sound of the bullets whizzing past your ears hitting the trees, ricocheting off the rocks at your feet. Almost immediately you leap off your horse and take cover behind a tree, drawing your pistol and listening closely to see where the attack came from. 

You hear voices – men’s voices, and the sound of leaves crunching underfoot. You pinpoint three distinct voices, but there could be more. 

“Where the fuck did she go?”

“Doesn’t matter, we should go after the horse.” 

“What if she has friends? She looked too put together to be alone.” 

“Even better. Come on, she couldn’t have gone far.” 

Truth be told, it’d been awhile since you’d had to navigate an ambush like this all alone. If you’d been paying closer attention, maybe you would’ve seen it coming. You’re already at a disadvantage, outnumbered, but it helps that you at least know their intentions. 

The footsteps grow closer, to your right, so quietly, you shuffle to the left of the tree you’re huddled up against, so you’re out of view when two of them pass you. You imagine the third one is scoping out a different section of the forest. Idiots, you think to yourself.

The adrenaline kicks in, and you pounce. One of the men is wearing a scarf, and that makes things easy, when you yank him backwards, hiding behind his broad shoulders, you use the fabric to cut off his airflow, staying clear of his arms flailing about while the man he was walking with turns, hesitating, gun raised, but he doesn’t fire – he can’t, or he’ll risk hitting his friend.

“Hey, hey, we just want to talk!” the man in front of you pleads as you catch his eyes over the shoulder of his friend, whose attempts at freeing himself become weaker and weaker as he fights to breathe. 

“No you don’t,” when the man goes limp in your arms, you shove him forward towards the man whose gun is now trained on you. He fires twice, but it’s you who delivers the final blow, so you don’t see where his bullets go. The two of them collapse together on the ground. 

Your heart starts to beat faster, suddenly increasing your ability to focus. Warmth blooms in the pit of your belly, and you whirl around towards the sound of footsteps in the snow, the third man appearing in front of you – his gun also raised. His eyes flicker nervously between you and the two others – who are dead, if not incapacitated, but you can’t worry about that now.

He’s hesitating with his gun raised – why, you aren’t sure. But you are, too. There’s something about the fear in his eyes that makes you feel almost guilty. It’s me, or him, you remind yourself, a mantra you have had to repeat far too many times trying to survive. When his eyes shift behind you, you pull the trigger, and a second gunshot echoes your own. You brace yourself, thinking he fired too, but instead, his body jolts two times with the impact of two bullets before he goes down. They were inexperienced, clearly, but it was still a close call. 

You look over your shoulder to find Joel behind you, gun still smoking, something dark and feral in his eyes. He lowers his weapon as you turn to face him fully. 

“I had it handled,” you say, briskly. But Joel doesn’t answer you. In fact, the insult doesn't seem to register at all - his eyes are wide. You follow his gaze down, towards your stomach. 

That’s when see it. 

Blood, and a lot of it, blooming at your stomach, dripping down under the waistband of your pants. When you go to press your hand against the wound, you realize you can’t feel your right arm – your shoulder is bleeding too. 

“Oh,” you suddenly feel lightheaded, cold. Your teeth chatter. “Shit.” 

You slump against a tree, expecting to feel the bark scratching your skin through your jacket, but you feel nothing at all as you slide to the ground. Above you, the sun shines brightly – like it had never stormed at all. 

Life goes on. 

You look towards the light, but it’s quickly obstructed by Joel, hovering over you. 

“We gotta-” he stutters, “We’ve gotta get out of here.” He says it like it’s a real possibility, looking down at your wounds. You can see it on his face. It’s not. 

“That bad?” you say, when he meets your gaze again. He doesn’t answer, opens his mouth and shakes his head no, but you can tell he’s lying. You take in a ragged breath. “Just tell Ethan that-”

“It’s not that bad. Stop it. Will you?” Joel says, like he’s suddenly remembered how to talk. “You’re fine. You’ll be fine.” 

“I don’t know,” you manage, and it’s hard to speak without feeling like you’re choking. “I-I don’t think so.” 

Joel’s hands find your shoulders, and despite the last thing he said to you before you left him, the gesture does give you some sense of comfort. “I’m so….I’m so fucking tired. Ethan’s alright. He doesn’t need me-”

“No, no,” Joel cuts you off. “He does, he does need you. Lots of people need you.”

None of his words even register, you can only think about your imminent future. The fight you’d got in seems suddenly inconsequential. “I don’t want to be alone, will you just stay until-”

“We’re leaving,” Joel drags you to your feet, presses a hand to your middle to stop the bleeding, and you feel the pain for the first time. It’s such a shock – so intense and all-consuming that you cry out. “I know, I know, I know…” he says, and his voice breaks into panic. 

“I should’ve never fucking let you go,” you’re not sure if he’s talking about you walking away from him earlier, or something else. Joel is half-carrying, half-dragging you along – so dizzy and disoriented you can’t move your legs, vision fading in and out. Joel stumbles over the uneven terrain towards his horse. 

“Please-” just let me be, you want to croak, but the words don’t come out. You think of everyone you’ve lost – Sarah. Vincent. Bea. All the others. What had it felt like for them, before it happened? 

“No, no, don’t close your eyes,” you feel Joel’s  hand on the side of your face, and you blink them open – you actually didn’t remember nodding off. “Stay with me, now….please. Please.” 

The more he begs, the less you understand what’s making him so frustrated. The less you understand anything at all. You wish you could answer, but you can’t. You can feel your body going limp. “Come on, girl, don’t fucking do this to me,” you hear his voice, harsh and desperate, your body being shaken. 

Your vision comes in snippets– blood on your hands, on the slope of his neck, the canopy of trees above you, Joel’s eyes, wet with tears. 

You can’t understand why he’s crying, and you don’t get to figure it out. 

-

-

-

[quadrantadvisor]

The Last Time Valerie and Phantom Called a Truce, mostly notes with some prose, 2,302 words

Not many people visited the GIW building at the outskirts of town. Residents of Amity Park were vaguely unsettled, that a government facility could appear in their little corner of Illinois seemingly overnight, but it was out of the way, unobtrusive to the town, and arguably, mostly, hopefully, harmless. So it was unlikely that, on that particular night, anyone would have been outside the building, watching the goings on that occurred. If anyone had been, however, they would have seen something exceedingly strange. The building lit up, red and green alarms blaring, but its automatic ghost shield never activating. Behind the tinted windows (what kind of building has tinted windows?) the vague forms of agents could be seen scurrying from place to place, not with their usual posture and air of dignity, but crouched low, panic clear in the motions. Suddenly, one of the windows would shatter, glass bursting outwards in the wake of several shots of pink plasma, followed by a familiar figure. One of Amity's local ghost hunters, clad in red, would shoot out of the window, hoverboard whistling at the speed. The absolute strangest thing, the thing that no passerby would be quite able to reconcile with what they thought they knew of Amity's ghost and hunter populations, and their relations to each other, would be the figure in her arms. Black and white and green, green smearing the sky, trailing her hoverboard, staining the front of her suit with its toxic, glowing aura. The Red Huntress, seemingly rescuing Phantom from the GIW's facility? Valerie herself was having trouble believing it.

More under the cut:

Sure, for the last few months she was more likely to fight with Phantom than against him. They had an understanding, of sorts, that outside threats needed to be dealt with first. Valerie couldn't claim to understand Phantom and his motivations more than she did any other ghost, but she could acknowledge, now, that, whatever his reasons, he really did want to keep violent ghosts out of Amity. Only a stupid hunter would be willing to give up an asset during a fight, and Valerie wasn't stupid (unlike, say, the Fentons). More often than not, Phantom would end up trapping the rampaging spirit in his stolen Fenton tech. Sometimes Valerie would tell herself that it would be stupid to end up releasing the ghost after all of that work, so she'd let him fly off to- to do whatever it was that he did with the ghosts that he caught. Sometimes, he would make some dumb quip at her, and she'd blast at him, and he'd laugh before hightailing away (seemingly at higher speeds all the time,) and she'd track him on her scanner until he mysteriously disappeared. Recently, her shots tended to go wide. It seemed somehow uncool to shoot a guy directly after trusting him to watch her back, even if he was already dead. Though, she couldn't afford to let him think she was going soft, either.

-valerie breaks phantom out from giw

-phantom: hi

-valerie: hi

-Phantom is just trying to figure out if being dissected is still on the schedule for the day and Valerie is feeling vaguely sick at the insinuation that she'd be involved in that

-He is loosing so much ectoplasm and she's like hey are you gonna be like, okay? Do you need anything????? And he's like "you got a first aid kit?"

-she does in fact have a first aid kit and fuck it it's not like phantom doesn't know who she is so she takes him to her house

-they fly in through the window

-they get the top half of his suit off (Valerie probably had to do it, and she hadn't even thought that the suit could separate from his body, let alone that it would have a zipper) and anyways he has an extremely human like torso with extremely human like musculature which is all basically on display because of the very corpse like y-cut he's sporting)

-danny's like well that doesn't look great, you've got sterile thread right? I definitely have to stitch this. And she's arguing with him because obviously he can't do it, he can barely move his arms!

-and then her dad calls out, phantom fucking FREEZES, she's never really seen him scared like this, he's always more of a fight or flight guy but she realizes that this time he can't, he hadn't looked at all scared when he'd been asking her if she was taking him somewhere to be cut open in a lab but she tells him "don't worry it's just my dad" and he looks at her like that's /worse/

-(Danny has parental trauma is all I'm getting at like the idea of someone his parents have worked with before bringing him to them is fucking horrifying in a way that being dissected by the government isn't)

-Meanwhile Val is like "hi Daddy good thing you're here you're better at stitches than I am"

-Damon has to just. Take this in for a second.

-(how does Valerie's dad talk) "good lord kid! Valerie, get the antiseptic"

-they get to work on him, mostly Damon with val as assistant, handing him things etc. Danny is in a lot of pain and he's trying not to freak out but he finally asks "you're not going to tell the Fentons about this, are you?"

-Damon (sharply): did the Fentons do this to you?

-Danny just flinches

-Val: it was the GIW

-damon: so what do the Fentons have to do with this?

-danny: you've, uh, you've worked with them before, is all?

-val: you've never seemed scared of the Fentons before?

-danny: yeah, when I was flying under my own power. I'm pretty difficult to catch, but they have made some... /creative/ threats about what they'll do if they ever get me in their lab.

-val: *gestures to all of him*

-danny: the GIW are a depersonalized government agency. They don't care that much about what goes on in this town, most of them are just collecting a paycheck. The Fentons /hate/ me.

-this is a sobering thought and an upsetting reaction for him to have had directly after being cut open. He's thinking about what would be /worse/.

-Damon: you'll be safe here. You just rest up.

-he has not directly addressed the question.

-phantom just nods and closes his eyes.

-outside of the room Damon is like: Valerie did you break into a government compound

-val (winces): maybe?

-damon: *sighs* I'm so glad your identity is still mostly secret. I've got half a mind to make you stop going out at all! What if those government wack jobs try to arrest you! Or /attack/ you! You said your new suit has an ectosignature, didn't you? They could claim you're a ghost!

-this has never occurred to Valerie before. Sudden flash of Phantom, strapped to an operating table, all but gutted, but this time the blood is red, it's hers.

-Damon: *hands on her shoulders* I don't mean to scare you, honey, you've been through a lot today. And I know that this was a big step for you.

-val: what do you mean?

-damon: ...clearly you and phantom haven't really been... enemies for a while now. I've seen you two on the news, you fight really well together. But I know that letting him help you fight other ghosts and actually doing something incredibly ill-advised and dangerous to save him are two very different things. Do you know what changed?

-val: *shakes he head* I've been kind of trying not to think about it. You're right, today has been... a lot. I... can we talk about this later? I'm so tired.

-damon: *kisses her forehead* of course, sweetie.

-val might hug him here, just to like, hold him for a moment. He's a pretty good dad.

-Danny is in her room. Do they just like leave him on the floor? I think they must I can't imagine either of them moving him onto the bed, Valerie because she's not there yet and Damon mostly because the kid seems intimidated by him.

-damon goes back into Val's room to get her bed dressings to set up the couch. He takes the blanket, sheet, and a pillow to val, but he gives the second pillow to Danny. (Hopefully I don't do Damon perspective so I don't have to decide how that goes down ajdmfkdlsbdj)

-(god I think Val's room is carpeted Danny is just laying in sticky ectoplasm carpet fibres gross)

-val has trouble at first because her head is just spinning but once she gets there she sleeps like the dead (lol)

-Val is upset that she could've hurt him this badly before and now she feels like a hypocrite because she still hasn't forgiven him and maybe her from before was right and he's just a ghost and she shouldn't be feeling sorry for him at all but even thinking that makes her feel like a monster etc etc etc

-dream sequence?

-Okay in the morning we have

-damon: how are you doing phantom? Or do you prefer Danny?

-danny: uh, either is fine. I guess I usually go with Phantom. Keeps things less confusing, since I'm not the only Danny in town.

-he's sitting up and he rubs the back of his neck, and when he chuckles he winces and curls in on himself, but he's obviously much better than last night

-val: can you use your powers now? Didn't seem like they were working yesterday.

-he holds up a hand and his face screws up and after a moment the hand disappears. He's near panting with the effort and pain

-danny: yeah, they injected my core with something but it seems like it's wearing off

-"Core?"

-"oh, uh, it's like- there isn't really a clear equivalent in the human body. I guess you could say it's the only organ that ghosts really /have/. It's what determines our form and self and, well, everything. Without it we're just so much ectoplasm. I don't know what they put in mine, but it didn't try to destabilize me or anything, so that's good. It was more like it stabilized me /more/, or put my body in some kind of stasis. It kept me pretty still, and docile, and probably most importantly, tangible. Can't exactly examine something you can't touch. Though, I think that the Fentons just use phase proof tools, which seems simpler to me, but what do I know."

-Haha anyways

-Damon: do painkillers work on you? We've got ibuprofen.

-Danny:... Yeesssssssss?

-Damon: *raises an eyebrow* I'm not giving it to you if you don't know what it does to you.

-danny: no, I mean yes, I can take painkillers and they help. I just- I thought it might be a trick question?

-damon: well we already used disinfectant and stitches and bandages on you, and that all worked like normal. I don't think it's that strange.

-danny: aw man, I should've told you not to bother with the disinfectant. Sorry about that, I hope it wasn't too much, I was really out of it last night. Ectoplasm naturally burns out bacteria, I can't really get human infections.

-(I've been writing Danny as too articulate for this scene, gotta remember to make him have a rough time.)

-val: so if your body is ectoplasm and your organs are fake then how do painkillers help you?

-danny: uh. I dunno?

-damon makes breakfast, and that's probably when val stays behind to call truce

"I'm done shooting at you," she said. "...Huh?" was all the reply she got. He seemed worn out now, vacant, hardly conscious. She wanted to look at him, to see how he was taking it, but she couldn't bring herself to. "It wouldn't make sense, after this. Unless you start menacing the town again, or whatever, I'm done." She stared down at her hands, gripping each other. "Oh. Huh." His voice was lighter, and even though it was clearly an effort for him just to talk she could somehow hear the smile in his tone. "So, truce?" She scoffed, and it broke some tension within her, but she didn't feel better for it. Her shoulders curled in towards each other. "I'm informing you that I'm not gonna hunt you anymore. It's not a truce if you never started the fights."

-val: you ruined my life

-danny: I know.

-val: you won't even apologize?

-danny: do you actually want me to? would it help? I could tell you what happened and why, but you don't want to hear me excuse it. you got hurt, and it sucks. for what it's worth, i really am sorry. does that help?

-val: no.

-except that after all this, maybe it does, just a little

-damon insists that they move phantom and they bring him out to the living room and sit him between the couch and the coffee table. Damon sets up breakfast there and they all eat together. It is exceedingly weird. I think Damon also starts calling him Danny. Val hates that.

-at some point maybe Damon helps Danny clean himself up (my poor boy)

-(i think that Danny's body can slowly absorb excess ectoplasm but if it dries it's a lost cause)

-also getting dried ectoplasm out of anything fucking sucks, Danny feels so bad about Val's carpet

-eventually Danny is like crap what time is it what /day/ is it I legitimately have to leave

-kid you can barely use your powers right now you sure about this?

-he's sure

-danny and Valerie say bye

-danny: well this has been...

-val: really, really weird?

-danny: yeah. But kind of nice, too. Um. Thank you. Thank you for /everything/.

-Val: get out of my house.

[fereldanwench]

I'm not really sure why this is being brought up after almost three years, doubly so given that I haven't had any interaction with PinkyDude in probably just as long, but since he saw fit to vague about me, I'm going to address this:

I feel this is a misrepresentation of my actions and motivations during this entire situation.

I never made a call-out post specifically against Pawel. In fact, I didn't even mention him by name. I made this post because I saw history repeating itself:

As I said in the notes here, this was also largely informed my experience with the Dragon Age fandom: I witnessed how David Gaider's interactions, including responding to headcanons in a way that could be read as confirming them, contributed to a lot of fanwank. I think Pawel started the streams with good intentions, but he was clearly not trained in public relations (at least when he started), and I did have concerns with how things like the "meme review" were contributing to parasocial relationships.

I also had concerns because Pawel contributed to some misinformation that other writers had to later correct, like saying Goro had never been considered for a romance, which also caused a huge outcry in the community and necessitated another dev to come forward to set the record straight. He was straddling a fine line between being an expert/professional and being a buddy, and that can be problematic when you're interacting with 100s of people hanging on to your every word.

I have no problem with devs doing streams and interacting with the community when they have the tools and information to do it in a way that fosters healthy community interaction, which requires training. I never believed he shouldn't do them at all, and as PinkyDude noted, I enjoyed some of them when he had guests on that I was interested in. However, I did believe that he needed to be far more cautious about how he was interacting with the community, and I did express those concerns.

Mentioning this also seems to be framed in a way to insinuate that I had anything to do with any sort of spite reporting or flagging of any of his posts, and that's just false. I will admit to getting caught up in the throes of some of the drama during 2022, and I regret that and I have made a point to not repeat those mistakes, but I'd never falsely report anyone just because I didn't like them.

[thewebcomicsreview]

In terms of artistic development, have you ever considered pursuing online courses like drawabox?

Are you trying to insinuate something, anon?

I've taken many classes, but I think it actually hurt me a little. I'd take classes, see improvement, stop drawing because the only drawing I did was boring boxes, lose all the progress, repeat. I think I've seen much more improvement over the last year than prior years, just because I'm drawing more.

That's not to shit on Drawing Boxes, of course. I've drawn many a box and I'll have to draw many more. Can't put it off forever. But I've been watching a lot of Pikat lately and the "Fun Before Da Mentals" mindset was a little revelatory to me. You sort of have to work your way up to the beginner tutorials. Also apparently drawing nothing but anime girls is fine actually.

That's not to say I'm not still doing formal stuff, though. I've started going to life drawing classes, and it's been helpful it getting me to just kind of accept really rough sketches were I just try to get all the body parts in sort of vaguely the right place. Like, normally how I'd draw the figure is that I'd draw a head with the guidelines and then basically try to get my sketch to be perfect, which it turns out defeats the point. Right now I'm working on getting to a point where I can sit down for an hour and draw something, with some degree of consistency, and once I'm there I can start working on making the something be actually, like, good.

[hailqiqi]

One Bed(sit)

Took a while to get round to it! Here's the next chapter of my RR fic with @sciroccoorion35

Words: 2,175

Ch1 AO3 | Ch2 Tumblr/AO3 | Ch3 AO3

Chapter Four: Talking and Walking

Lockwood had always imagined his first date to be somewhere romantic. When he was a boy covered in grave dirt he’d imagined a moonlit stroll by the canals, where he would play the dashing hero and rescue his faceless girlfriend from any lurking Shades; after meeting Flo, that daydream had morphed into sunlit picnics on grassy hills covered in daisies (Flo certainly didn’t need a dashing hero of any sort). 

Growing older had meant he wasn’t sure he’d ever get around to a first date – he had clients to court, agents to train, a business to run, plus – who knew how many tomorrows he’d have? No, he’d put his childish fantasies of romance aside long ago.

And then Lucy had crashed into and out of his life in a most bewildering fashion, a hurricane of destruction with her warm compassion, short skirts and steely resolve that had ripped apart every preconceived notion he’d ever had with so much force that he’d been too overwhelmed to realise what was going on until he’d almost – and then actually – lost her. Twice.

Since figuring a few things out (albeit almost embarrassingly late), Lockwood had had an entire four months to dream, scheme and plan. Primrose Hill was the place, he’d decided: if he ever got Lucy back, he’d take her up to Primrose Hill to watch the sunrise, with a thermos of hot chocolate to share between them. It would be a quiet, intimate moment, just the two of them as the ghosts faded and the promise of new hope dawned. Then he’d take her out for breakfast.

Staying at Lucy’s place hadn’t been part of the plan, and Tooting was a little far from Primrose Hill to make it work. But he’d tried to keep his eyes peeled on the cab rides over, trying to spot anything that looked like it’d make a good first date spot. Assuming he could actually ask her, at some point; it was a little awkward to try to bring it up when he was ostensibly imposing on her for her safety.

For their not-a-date breakfast they’d ended up in Tooting Market, a bustling indoor/outdoor area stuffed to the brim with people and stalls of all kinds. Lucy had expertly led him straight to a red-and-white stall in the back corner where the middle-aged owners seemed to know her quite well, judging by how interested they’d been in Lockwood’s presence. By the time they’d taken their seats at a wobbly plastic table Lucy’s complexion rivalled that of a tomato and Lockwood, fearing he’d fared no better, was trying to look at anywhere but her.

‘One aloo paratha and one butter chicken paratha, to keep you going!’ The lady from the stall placed two plates down on the table, along with a few small bowls of sauces. ‘Plus, here’s a little something sweet, to keep you sweet to our Lucy.’ Placing a bowl with wrapped sweets in it, she winked at Lucy, smiled at Lockwood, then turned and trotted away.

Lockwood stared after her, the fresh insinuation echoing in his ear.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Lucy hissed from across the table and Lockwood snapped his gaze to her. ‘They don’t normally do this.’

‘Right,’ Lockwood said, his face hot. ‘Er… At least we got free sweets out of it?’

He nudged the small bowl, filled to the brim with colourful sweets, and Lucy brightened noticeably. ‘I’ve never tried any of those,’ she said, then shot him a small grin. ‘Maybe it was a good thing I brought you here after all. Even if…’ She trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the space between and around them, and Lockwood felt his confidence wane a little more.

‘Right,’ he said again, after a moment. ‘So, er… How do we eat these?’

—

George had always claimed food was magic to the mood, and – as with most things – he was probably right. The awkwardness had vanished quickly once they’d begun eating, Lucy explaining what each dip was and laughing at his expression when he’d tried some of her (much spicier) pastry. They’d picked up some spiced tea from another stall (which smelled divine but tasted strongly, and while Lockwood enjoyed it, he wasn’t sure he’d order it again) and then Lucy had coyly suggested a walk through the market, her lips quirked in a fashion that suggested she was probably laughing at him but trying to hide it.

Perhaps Lockwood wasn’t as good at hiding his curiosity as he’d thought. The idea rankled – he’d worked hard to be the picture of dignity, thank you, and he’d always thought of himself as reasonably worldly – but he didn’t mind that much. The market was, after all, utterly different to anything around Portland Row, and different again to the bustling East End street markets he’d frequented with Sykes. Plenty was familiar (Cockneys in flat caps hawked groceries all over London, it seemed) but there was even more that was unfamiliar: tables laden with vibrant, rich fabrics, battered books in scripts he couldn’t read, baskets of fruits he’d only seen in old photographs. A butcher’s shop proudly hung a whole, skinned lamb in the window; the shop next to it displayed colourful mountains of spices piled taller than Holly.

‘It’s pretty cool, right?’ Lucy smiled up at him, her hand in his coat pocket as she took another one of the sweets they’d been gifted. ‘I figure it’s about as close as I’ll ever get to leaving the country.’

Nodding, Lockwood looked around again. If he ignored the double-deckers passing – and the weather – this could easily be a market in some far-off land. Was this how his parents had lived? Walking through foreign markets, shoulder-to-shoulder, sharing exotic sweets as they discussed their next move, their next stop, their children back home?

It had always been strange to know his parents had travelled the world while he’d barely ever left London; it was an even odder feeling to realise he hadn’t even seen as much of London as he’d thought. There was so much more to them that he had to live up to.

Lucy pressed an unwrapped sweet in his hand, shaking him out of his reverie. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he answered, even as Lucy’s hand left his to dip back into the pocket of the coat that was once his father’s. (Zero finesse – she’d make a terrible pickpocket.) ‘Just thinking.’ Casting his eyes around for a safer topic, he found his gaze simply landing on her. ‘This isn’t the sort of place I’d imagined you’d end up in, to be honest.’

It hadn’t been what he’d meant to say, but it was true. He’d thought she’d go to Fittes or Rotwell’s or Tendy’s, and, if she was going to live out, somewhere like Whitechapel or Lambeth. Areas that were cheap enough – she didn’t like to spend money needlessly – but definitely more central, since the majority of hauntings cropped up in central London (population density being the likely cause there). Tooting was far enough out that George had made a biting remark about the lengths she was going to to avoid them, which he’d certainly thought about more than once when he’d first seen the hovel she’d chosen to live in. What other reason could she have for living somewhere like that?

Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. As they stepped out onto the main road he looked at Lucy – really looked at her. She was tired and run down, yes; her appearance had certainly seen better days. And yet, she stood taller, held her head up higher. The tales passed along the grapevine from the teams that had worked with her both terrified and elated him, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he’d been holding her back. Maybe that’s why she’d run so fast and far.

The sign for the Underground appeared at the corner ahead. ‘Why did you choose to move out all this way, Lucy?’ he asked, aiming for nonchalant.

She frowned at the question, and Lockwood had to resist the urge to reach out and smooth her brow. ‘Portland Row is cosy, and Marylebone is lovely and everything,’ Lucy started, clearly choosing her words carefully. ‘But this’ – she gestured at another spice shop as they passed, and the group of ladies in headscarves gathered around the till – ‘this is one of the things I’d hoped for when I first came to London.’

Lockwood frowned. ‘I thought most people wanted to see Big Ben and the palace. Tower Bridge, and all that.’

‘Well, yes, the grand buildings are wonderful too,’ she said, ‘even though half of them are haunted. But I wanted to see…I guess I wanted to see people who were different to back home, and not just in the way you are.’

Lockwood blinked.

‘You know, growing up we were always told that Britain had the greatest empire in the world, but you wouldn’t bloody know it where I’m from. And home – I mean, your home’ – Lockwood’s heart skipped a beat at the correction – ‘is wonderful but daily life isn’t too far off from what I grew up with. I wanted somewhere different. Somewhere life would be entirely new.’

Lucy hated change. After all, isn’t that why she’d left?

Turning into the station, she made a beeline for the ticket machines where she punched a few buttons in swift succession then stopped to look at him expectantly.

‘I’ve got a monthly, I don’t need...’ she trailed off as he continued to stare at her and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, nevermind. I’ll pay for it.’

With a start, he reached past her. ‘No, no, I will…’

The last time they’d taken the Underground together Lucy had trailed after him and surreptitiously checked the map at every stop, one hand wrapped firmly around the pole. Now she chided him to hurry up on the stairway down – ‘the ones via Bank are eight minutes apart at this time of day so I don’t want to miss it!’ – and leant against the closed doors, utterly at ease in the crowded train as she talked about her favourite Thai place.

His smile was firmly in place as the train trundled forwards, but he couldn’t help but take the opportunity to study Lucy whenever she glanced away. In the four months they’d been apart she’d built a whole new life; the only thing different about his was a bit more cash and the Lucy-shaped hole. He might have managed to insert himself into this new life of hers for the foreseeable future, but then what? It was growing increasingly clear that this new Lucy didn’t actually need him.

—

It was these thoughts, perhaps, that kept Lockwood skulking under a lampost by Clerkenwell Green while Lucy went to confront Mailer, her new (to him) plain black tote slung over his shoulder.

They’d discussed him assisting, obviously, but Lucy had insisted she’d rather deal with it herself. And so Lockwood had remained behind as Lucy stole off after Mailer, watching as she snatched him into an alleyway. He couldn’t see what happened next but he kept his eyes on the mouth of the alley and his ears pricked for any sign of a struggle, ready and willing to jump in at the slightest hint that she was in trouble. None came; Lucy had learnt well.

Soon enough Harold Mailer – looking considerably worse for wear - came slinking out of the alley, double and triple checking each direction as though expecting a Changer. And a minute later – there, sheathing her rapier: Lucy. Lucy, who he had nothing left to give that she couldn’t get herself, who had slept next to him the night before and yet now seemed so out of reach, casually walking away from threatening a boy two years her senior as though it was an everyday occurrence.

She looked around briefly, her demeanour cool and unruffled, and then her eyes met his and her whole face lit up, her trademark grin so brilliantly warm it was as though the sun had come out. His answering grin bubbled up from within unbidden, a bark of laughter leaving his lips as he waited for her to cross the short distance towards him and wondered why he’d wasted his morning worrying.

Her eyes were on him the whole time, and she looked so ridiculously pleased with herself it was hard to remember that they were on serious business. He stood straighter, offering her her bag; Lucy squeezed his arm as she took it, and then fell into step right beside him as they headed off again. Their hands brushed as they walked and Lucy made no move to step away. That realisation alone could have kept him warm without his coat.

As they walked, she recounted her encounter with Mailer, the light never leaving her eyes, and Lockwood was struck with a thought: perhaps this new Lucy didn’t need him the way she had before, but she certainly seemed to want his company – and that, perhaps, was even better.

[singingcicadas]

Am I reading too much into this or does Rewind have a very... possessive attitude towards Dominus?

Like he's mad at Minimus because he didn't tell him that he's related to Dominus. And then basically questioned Minimus' love for his own brother. I keep feeling that there's a sneaky undertone of 'I love him more than you do because you gave him up for dead and got on with your life without mentioning him again while I kept searching' being insinuated in there somewhere.

(Minimus is playing with a little Ten figurine it's cute)

And then his reaction to learning that Dominus kept a secret from him. First, denial: no he wasn't a loadbearer. Then he brushed it off: no don't be silly. Then assertion: I knew everything about him!

And then he was incredulous/angry/determined and immediately demanded Minimus to show him what exactly Dominus was hiding under his armour. Look at his tone.

I know they were conjux but Dominus is still his own person. Why does Rewind think he's entitled to know everything about him? With what Minimus said up till that point it's clearly implied that the secret is something very personal. And also likely involves Minimus. What right does Rewind have to make that demand, much less with such an attitude?

First screenshot Rewind gets mad because how could Dominus' brother keep something from him. Second screenshot he gets mad because how could Dominus keep something from him tell me what it is right now.

Coupled with his downright fanatical obsession with looking for him it's questionable how much of Rewind's zeal actually has to do with Dominus and how much is just an expression of Rewind's own need, since he apparantly can't stand the thought of not knowing something about Dominus. Which includes what happened to him.

Then in the end it's Rewind who makes the choice to let Dominus die by cutting Chromedome's arm off, and while it's an understandable reaction to an emergency situation and he's doing it to save Chromedome, the way he said "It's not your choice to make" after he did it sort of seems to suggest that it's his choice and... idk, feels vaguely uncomfortable.

[chevelleneech]

See so i think jikook are close def that much i can say, but i dont think they are in a relationship or a serious one at that , i mean we are pretty sure that jk had teh thing with the women (which people for some reason dont agree with or say its a cosplayer , who has teh exact same hairstyle, floorplan, walls, dog, sofa and lights , mannerisms, apartment and very soon after that jk said that "saesangs are still here" , so i dont whats there to disprove over here for those relegious jikook people) and then jm has with the actress who posts his apartment pics, and all of this happened esp with jk at that period when they admitted they werent talking at all, and wouldnt have if they hadnt met, throughout ct it felt that jk was sort of anxious, bored, distracted more like it and felt was upset, all of this also points that maybe they had a fallout a major one perhaps, but now they are better bc hell they went to military together. But all of this factually also puts out that jk and jm are not dating, jk is having his fun, with prob diff people, relationships and same prob with jm. Tae was with jennie, and even rm had a long committed relationship until recently it seems from rpwp songs. so all of this people fighting over taekook vs jikook and how jk seems abusive is redundant , bc they arent in a relationship either of them. what are you thoughts about it.

You including the “Jungkook was anxious and irritated and upset” line tells me you’re a Tkkr trying to hide your hands, lol.

Jungkook may have been nervous at the start of their trip to Connecticut, because Jimin was too, as they both mentioned it’s the first time they’re hanging out after a bit of not seeing each other. But this attempt at highlighting JK only, and saying he seemed uninterested in whatever ways, has been the one thing Tkkrs clung to since the first episode, and it is baseless.

Jungkook is allowed to feel however he felt, but we also all watched the damn show. He was smiling and happy during every single episode thus far, and reiterated his joy many times over. He also said during the first episode that he wanted to keep traveling and filming with Jimin after enlistment. He wants to do it until they’re 50. Was he exaggerating? Most probably, and him being tired at some points was a given due to him being in the middle of promoting his solo work. Outside of that though, he was happy and willing to do the show.

Jungkook and Jimin traveled together because they chose to, because they wanted to. So whatever was going on behind the scenes between them, is something we will never know the full picture of. So if you don’t think they’re together, okay, but I don’t think you ever did, because I’m pretty sure you are a Tkkr anyway.

Regardless of what you ship though, smoke and mirrors are not good indicators that people are dating. Jimin and Jungkook flirt and put their mouths on one another. They choose each other over and over, so no matter the fact that there is a woman claiming to be or trying to insinuate she is Jimin’s girlfriend. Without him ever confirming that, she’s just a weirdo.

Not to mention, why would any of their actual partners post the way she does? If Park Jimin was my man, I do not need to vague post and try to show off bits and pieces of our lives to convince his fans of it. Never mind the fact that it’s his private life. So if they are together, unless Jimin is okay with her stirring shit up in the fandom and posting his house on IG… that’s not something a grown woman, who is famous adjacent herself, dating an incredibly famous person would do.

In comparison, Namjoon and his potential boyfriend situation is the near exact opposite of what that woman is or was doing. We have no idea who the man (or men) is in the pictures Namjoon himself posted. Maybe some people do, idk, but the point is, there is no way to determine who they are nor what they mean to Joon outside of fandom speculation. Yet the speculation makes sense and is believable, because Namjoon himself played into it. He wasn’t deterred by people questioning his sexuality nor relationship status, he posted a heart over a man’s face, and was posting all types of loves songs as he traveled with his family and a man. Yet when he seemingly had his heartbroken, he deleted all photos of the emoji covered man (or men), started talking shit about relationships, and posting sad queer music.

That, imo, is how I believe a relationship between any BTS member would go. Not the heartbreak, but a “quiet launch”. Tae and Jennie were even along similar lines. They unfortunately didn’t post their pictures themselves, but even in the middle of the drama, they kept seeing each other in public spaces. They just didn’t publicize their whereabouts.

So if two members of the group can seemingly date both famous and presumably non famous people, and take pictures and be seen out and about with them, why can’t Jimin? Why is his relationship shrouded in mystery, and only fueled by the woman claiming to live with him all the while he makes no move to imply there’s truth to the rumor?

If he and JK have absolutely nothing going on, why is he out here letting his girlfriend look goofy, all the while biting hickies on a man? While flirting with a man on live and asking him to get naked? While traveling with the same man, getting his ass slapped by him in bed? Enlisting in the military with said man, using a program that keeps them together the entire time?

So again, you don’t have to ship Jikook nor think anything of them, but if you’re going to pull in Taennie and Namjoon’s possible situation to use as examples of the members dating, keep it steady across the board. Jimin and Jungkook’s speculated relationships with women do not match up with Taennie nor Joon’s situation, yet Jikook does.

They travel, sight see, share meals, stay up late, take cute selfies, and cuddle up. So what makes Jikook less likely, aside from them being in the same group for a decade? Which only adds reason to why they may have had some communication issues or whatever, and needed time apart.

[dirtytransmasc]

random avatar hc's cause I'm bored. (these fall closer to canon, and not for one of my au's, so like... vaguely 'normal' spider, not so nice neytiri, etc. unless specified otherwise)

spider and tuk are besties. the way she sorta hides behind spider when she blows a raspberry at lo'ak? she knows he'd take her side in a fight. spider will never tell her she's "too big" for anything, he literally works out partly because he wants to be able to carry her for as long as possible. he goes out of his way to play with her when her siblings ditch her. take whole days to just follow tuk around and do what she wants to do. she made him a songchord and goes to sit with eywa with him so he won't be alone. doesn't get why people don't like him, cause she thinks he's the best. so she tries to make him happy when they're together. pisses neytiri off, cause she always wants to spend time with spider, even when she tells tuk not to (it makes spider sweat bullets, cause tuk refuses to let go of his hand and neytiris just glaring at him, and he almost wants to beg her to let go)

ao'nung is also tuks best friend. they bully each other, but get offended if anyone insinuates they don't like each other. she's still mad at him for being mean when they first met, won't let him live it down, even years after the fact. braids his hair all. the. time, he can't get her to stop touching it.

even outside of my blessed spider au, spider has connected with eywa, cause she accepted him no matter what, he just doesn't tell anyone. she knows how to connect to humans now, via her roots, so she connects with the boy. he feels like if he points it out he'll get in trouble or he'll be 'using eywa' to get what he wants (which isn't true, but the boy has some irrational fears cause ✨trauma✨)

ao'nung and rotxo 'dated' as kids, like schoolyard crush type dating, cause they were really young. it lasted a few years (on and off) from like 6ish to 10/11, but to this day, they're still very close. like, its odd to find them not touching each other or cuddling or holding hands. they're inseparable and have no clue what personal space is, at all. they still say "I love you", kiss eachother's cheeks/foreheads, ao'nung is possessive, roxto is always talking about him. they're platonic they swear (not a soul believes them).

neteyam doesn't want to be chief, sometimes he hates being jakes son because of the weight on his shoulders, but he doesn't complain cause he doesn't want to be a disappointment, and he doesn't want to watch his siblings struggle to carry the weight themselves.

spider self soothes by brushing a thumb over his own cheek or running his fingers through his hair or holding his own hand. he's so insanely touch-starved its not even funny.

he's also a maladaptive daydreamer. I got no solid reason, it just feels right. gotta deal with his loneliness and metric ton of big feelings in one way or another.

he also feels the urge to talk to himself, a lot, especially when he's out alone in the woods. he just happens to think the ato'kirina are a coincidence (eywa listens to him attentively like a mother should).

spider tends to 'ignore' signs of eywa when it comes to himself, because he can't accept that eywa would ever wish to connect to or guide him. (its a running theme in my hc's)

after sorting out their drama, ao'nung is really close to lo'ak. after neteyam's death he sorta becomes his big brother. their dynamic is a mess, but they make it work. ao'nung is sorta like a punching bag for lo'ak a lot of the time (like hopper and mike in that one scene in season 2 of stranger things). ao'nung hates watching him mourn (he wishes he had died instead. for more then one reason, but that's a big one). other times they're super sweet on each other, play roughhousing, just hanging out, lightly teasing one another. they're my messy boys.

kiri refuses to pick between spider and rotxo. they don't mind. polycule for the win.

spider isn't immediately accepted by the metkayina, but he tries really really hard to prove himself, and does make some sort of name for himself. they may not all like him, but they respect him.

spider learned to treat bullet wounds after having to sit behind neteyam, staring at the bullet hole, and not knowing what to do. he blames himself for neteyams death, but he thinks that if he knew what to do, if hadn't frozen, if he'd known what to do, maybe he would have lived.

ao'nung has a disproportionate level of big brother instinct, relative to his general asshole personality. he's insanely protective of anything smaller them then him, even if he himself hates it. aka, even before he accepted spider into his friend group, or the village as a whole, he was instinctively protective, embarrassingly so. still kicks himself for getting lo'ak hurt (he meant to scare the piss out of him sure, but he never wanted him to get hurt) and he genuinely cringes, one of those full body shakes type cringes, when he thinks about it. he hates its.

spider doesn't know how to properly show affection after always being denied it, having to suppress it (not being able to affectionate with the other sully kids in front of the elders), etc. so now he sorta just struggles. the sully kids don't really notice how he hides his affections, how he's timid about it, what he considers to be affection. the metkayina kids are not used to it, they are genuinely concerned. spider is genuinely afraid to be nice to people when not in private. he's deathly afraid of receiving affection in front of others.

tsireya and ao'nung (sorta rotxo too, but he's dating him, so its kinda different) forcibly adopt him after a while, they can't help it. he's like a kicked puppy, its hard not to love him.

roxto's grandma (who raised him, canon, cause i said so) and all his brothers and sisters (he has a big family, mostly adopted siblings,) love spider, so he has a little makeshift family.

spider would, whether he was accepted as one or not, become a warrior after what happened that night in the forest (getting kidnapped) and what happened on the ship/to neteyam. he won't let himself be taken off guard again, he won't let the people he loves, even if they don't love him back, get hurt again. he vows his life to the na'vi, to pandora, to Eywa herself; he will die before he loses someone else.

spider and lo'ak orange cat energy, kiri and tuk have tortie energy (sassy queen), roxto is a tuxedo cat, ao'nung and neteyam are black cats, tsireya has tabby vibes (sweet but sassy). (fight with the wall)

[demodraws0606]

The very weird plays in Tsukasa and Rui's last event and how they can be analysed and the weird detail that links them together

I made a post about this before but it was poorly made (and also not really a theory or analysis it was just me having brainworms) so I deleted it and I want to actually make an analysis about it. Unfortunatly this also means this post will be long as fuck which can be a positive or a negative depending on how you view it.

Warning for mentions of suicide and drowning

So Tsukasa and Rui both have plays that are kind of the focus of the event, to the point where wxs literally stop to basically explain to us the plot of them (in world they're just talking about it but like it's clear it's also meant for us the viewers to understand the plays they're doing).

And these two plays are already very interesting and...well dark on their own but they have a extremely strange similarity that I don't believe is a coincidence (because that would be insane) and also just kinda shakes the foundation on how colorpalet write these sorts of topics in general.

First I want to preface this by saying that me analysing these plays isn't some kind of fool's herrand as colorpalet has explicitely hid backstory information, future lore hints and overall just little bits of character into WxS's plays more often than not. Of course some plays are more explicit than others.

A huge exemple of this, is the first arc ender where the play they do to save Phennyland is one that obviously is meant to parallel Emu's backstory with her grandpa. It also stands as Very early foreshadowing between the parallels of Emu's grandpa and Tsukasa that Emu sees in Admist a Dream.

So yeah, from a writing standpoint, makes sense you don't want the plays you spent a lot of words describing to the audience to be useless especially considering colorpalet has a limited amount of time to explore these stories.

I also want to get this as early as possible before I get possible criticism because I know how this fandom acts towards analysis that delve into darker topics. Don't try and respond with "colorpalet wouldn't write something like that" or "this is too dark for colorpalet". Not only because I'm not insinuating that they will actually go full dark mode and depict something graphic.

But also because this is something that is already IN the text, I'm not making up darker themes here, that is something that colorpalet chose to add in WonderlandXShowtime's event stories. I'm only bringing up how odd this is for colorpalet and how it could relate to the overall story.

I'll bring this up later because this specific criticism gets very silly once you delve deeper into it but I don't want to stall the analysis any longer.

So now with this out of the way, let's get into the plays.

This is the story of the first play showed in Tsukasa's event

Of course the first thing that stands out is how much darker this play is compared to well...almost anything colorpalet addresses in stories ? This definitely shocked when I first read it, there is no usage of "disappearing" and it Actually describes the method as to which the protagonist wants to end their life which the only thing close to that we see is Kanade hinting on wanting to starve herself. But I'm gonna get into how weird this is for colorpalet later.

Extremely dark topics aside you can easily draw parallels to this story to Nene and Rui specifically already. The story is vague enough that those parallels don't hold too much water (ahaha get it) BUT it's still something that I feel is important to point out nontheless.

Nene and Rui were both unsuccesful in their dreams before the main story. Nene having given up going on stage and Rui never being able to be a director being forced to use robots for his plays.

Both were pretty jaded and well "worn out" until they met Tsukasa and Emu which would be a stand in for the protagonist of this play going through various encounters with many people and deciding to live a little longer.

(The reason I don't compare this protagonist to Tsukasa and Emu here is because I don't think they fit as well. Tsukasa's issues wasn't being unsuccesful its more so him forgetting the reasons behind his dreams and Emu's situation while similar just doesn't feel like it fits this story in particular)

So yeah this story is pretty simple so there is not much to analyse or pick apart. I could go scene by scene but then I would be distracting from the main point I want to make so I'll just be using the simple descriptions of the overall story.

NOW this one is a doozie, I didn't put the whole story that's described but I think compared to the last one this one is way more obvious as to what this could paralleling (or even foreshadowing if you want to be spicy).

I don't think this play is meant to be interpreted in only one way but the most obvious interpretation is the parallels to the disbandement arc. I think it particularly fits Rui in the disbandement considering how Katsuyuki is described but it can also work with Emurui in general as well.

Someone struggling meeting someone who brings joy in their life before they seemingly have to leave, said person being desperate for that not to happen.

I do think it's also meant to be a sort of double meaning here as if you have seen my cyberpunk deadboy analysis, the idea of someone leaving silently with the other trying to chase them down is something that just feels...idk intentional. But I don't have any evidence other than vibes here.

Now that I analysed these plays I want to get into the one common thread they have that is extremely baffling and concerning.

They both have the main character contemplating suicide by drowning.

Now you can be nitpicky and point out how the play in Rui's event doesn't explicitely say that this dude wants to drown himself but I just find it more likely mostly because of how this and the description of Katsuyuki's characters are phrased.

When Katsyuki is said to be "without the will to live"

THAT is a literal translation

Unfortunatly I'm not a japanese speaker so don't take my research with 100 pourcent certainty

However if you look at how this sentence is phrased in japanese, this translation is pretty much word for word

And also just what Hajime says doesn't feel like what someone would say to someone if they're just leaning to close to look at the ocean or just being reckless.

Anyways now that I've made my point that there is a 95 pourcent chance this is Heavily implying Katsuyuki was plannign on drowning himself the question is....

what the fuck ?

Now one time is already a big deal considering colorpalet's insitance on censoring explicit mentions of suicide and for it to be implied twice in the span of two events in a row ? And have it be specifically be by drowning both times ?????

I don't understand people just brushing this off because Colorpalet Actively chose to make the plays like this. These plays often take a large portion of the screentime, and I've showcased how they can hold story significance so such a blatant connection between them feels extremely intentional.

This is why complaints about expecting Colorpalet to get too dark and that it's unrealistic would be legitmatly silly because what's more unrealistic ?

That colorpalet has tackled this dark topic twice in a row to foreshadow or hint at possible topics that will be addressed in the future of WxS's story ? Weither it's through flashbacks or implications like 25ji OR even just symbolism.

Or that colorpalet just went and made the plays needlessly dark, for no reason ?????? Twice in a row with it being drowning both times ??????? With the same actor and both being the protagonist of the play ?????? Have those plays that take a lot of screentime being described just being completely devoid meaning ???????

I think I made my case about why the fandom's usual kneejerk reaction wouldn't make sense here, this isn't a "X character is secretly suicidal/depressed" situation.

Either way, I actually don't legitematly know what this could entail. This is clearly important enough that colorpalet is obviously shoving it in our faces but I do not know the meaning of it towards WxS's story just yet.

It could be hints at some of the members backstory (BTW by that I mean it could be hints at basically anything, it doesn't have to be explicitely 1/1 "they wanted to drown themselves") specifically Rui considering how suspicious they are at handling ms Rui but that is it's own can of wringling worms. But that could also be my fav character bias speaking tbf.

It could also just be meant to be some kind of like, message of colorpalet saying that they are willing to go darker with WxS's storyline if necessary. In a way showing that the gloves are off if they're not censoring dark topics that they usually censor.

Anyways I'm not delving further into it because otherwise i'd get into unhinged rants but honestly this subject just gives me so much brainworms because legit what the Fuck is colorpalet doing rn.

They are being so weird for literally no reason with WxS's story and I just have to sit back and watch them just drop weird shit out of nowhere.

Edit : One of my friends pointed out how one of them is a movie and one of them is a play and i realised I might've mixed those words up while writing this so yeah 😭

[gwenthebard]

This post is going to be a pure rant, but random things I've put up with as a pansexual trans woman with a preference for men:

-people assuming Im a "love all women and 3 specific men" pansexual, not listen when I say "women are like 20% my attraction", and then get frustrated when I dont find women they find hot hot

-have other trans women insinuate to my face that my attraction to men as a trans woman is me being comp het, and eventually Ill be sapphic again once im more confident in myself

-have other trans women insinuate to my face even if I prefer men I should avoid dating them, and then just unironically say radfem talking points demonizing men

-people above will only find a man "safe" and hot if he's gnc and subby, and if you find any sort of other man hot they will continue with the vaguely radfem talking points while infantilizing your attraction

-cis men who show interest in trans women will inevitably get accused of being eggs or chasers, depending on if theyre gnc or not. Gnc men are considered something to be normalized and celebrated until that point

-a trans woman who knows a lot of sapphics because she was friends with a couple makes perfect sense, and a cis woman whose friends with a lot of trans women because she knows a couple is an ally, but a cis man who knows a lot of trans women because he knew a couple [see point before]

-will get sometimes inappropriately sexualized by men for openly liking men, and get objectified for it

-dom or switchy sapphics, trans or not, will start acting toppy or dommy to you within a couple days, which can either be really nice or annoying depending on the mood. Often will get treated as a generic good, but seen as intrinsically bad from even a man youve been flirting with

-will hear people describe a generic or conventially ugly woman as a goddess, but if you say a generic or conventionally ugly man is hot you'll be told your standards are too low

-I can simp Ianthe Tridentarius or Minthara for a week straight with little push back and people understanding "she never did anything wrong" is a joke, but if I find a fictional man hot people will resort to group discussion or reading his wiki page looking for reasons to say why I shouldnt simp him

-I like toxic fictional characters. Can say "I support womens rights, but I also support womens wrongs" all day, but the moment the target of attraction is a fictional man you're infantilized by people acting like you cant be trusted to not know those things only belong in fiction

-hammering this point by now, but literally if I want to simp a fictional man I need to go out of my way to not bring up any red flags or even the most generic good guy will be seen in a bad light

[nevermore-grimes]

Nevermore-Grimes does Daydreamtober 2024

Original art from Pinterest.

Prompt #17: Justice (Incarnate, hehehe!)

Paracosm: The Ember Blade Chronicles

TEBC Saga: The Origins

Summary: Detective Jackson Dunlop visits Nevermore in prison, but he doesn't seem to learn much from his unwilling interviewee...

Warnings/Tags: Mentions of killing/death, brief vague allusion to sexual assault, and insinuation of character death

Word Count: 1344

[TAPE START]

JD: This is Detective Jackson Dunlop visiting convicted serial killer, Nevermore Grimes, in Alcatraz Penitentiary. Please state your full name for the record.

NG: …You just did.

JD: [Sighs] I realize this, but I need a record of you pronouncing your own name.

NG: No need. You did fine.

JD: Look, the sooner you follow interview record protocol, the sooner we can get this over with. Wouldn’t you want that?

NG: [Groans] I’m Nevermore Grimes. Happy now?

JD: Very. Do you know why I’m here, Nevermore?

NG: To bother me?

JD: [Chuckles] Close, but not quite. I’ve come to grow fascinated by the connections in your cases, and I wished to study the woman behind them a little more closely. After three attempts, I finally got the clearance for this interview with you.

NG: [Dryly] Lucky me.

JD: Growing tired of my visit already?

NG: I was tired from the moment they pulled me from my cell for this bullshit.

JD: I deeply apologize. I had assumed there was nothing too interesting for me to be interrupting.

NG: Asshole.

[Papers rustle]

JD: Let’s get on with my questions, so I don’t keep you from your glamorous prison life, then.

NG: Mock me all you want, but I’m not answering your stupid questions.

JD: Won’t you humor me?

NG: Wasn’t my “glamorous prison life” enough humor for you?

JD: Nevermore, please. Why don’t you start by telling me about your upbringing?

NG: Hm… Let’s see… I was born… then I was raised… with a family… in a house… in a neighborhood… in a town.

JD: Care to elaborate… anywhere?

NG: No.

JD: [Sighs] You’re proving to be a tricky one.

NG: You’re proving to be obnoxiously nosy.

JD: Alright, fine. We’ll stick to the more directly relevant questions.

NG: Or you can skip all of your questions and get the fuck out.

JD: Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.

[Papers rustling]

JD: Among your personal belongings, investigators found a list of your victims’ names, each crossed off, among a list of names of those who were still alive, not crossed off. Would I be correct in assuming this was a sort of “hit list”? Were those who weren’t crossed off your next targets?

NG: [Sarcastically] Wow, detective. You cracked the case. How long did it take you to figure that one out?

JD: [Mutters] I’m just being thorough…

JD: [Clears throat] Alright, so you had a hit list. But, why? Why did you do it?

NG: I’m pretty sure the stupid name all those news outlets gave me pretty much encompasses my usual theme.

JD: No, no! I’m not asking why you chose them. I’m asking why you did all of this! Why you kept pushing, even with the law opposing you! Why? Why did you choose this life, even when it led you here?

NG: …

JD: Nevermore…

NG: You wanna know my motive? That it, huh?

NG: How honorable of you to want to study me like some pathetic animal! You think I’m some poor traumatized little girl who made some bad choices in her life, don’t you? Well, guess what? You’re wrong. I had a normal fucking life! I’m just like this.

NG: But you know what happened next? I grew the fuck up, and I watched the unfair shit this little system of yours pulled on people just like you. You think you’re different from the rest of your gun-carrying counterparts? You’re just as corrupt, if not worse, prying into people’s lives and then leaving the dirty work of locking them up to somebody else. You’re worse than a cop. You’re a pussy.

NG: You thrive in a system where the innocent get put away while the most disgusting of human beings are free to run around harming those you didn’t get to yet. I’m not a charity case, I’m a bitch on a mission, and I won’t stop until I’ve eradicated all of the walking shitstains your system benefits.

JD: “Justice Incarnate”. That’s what your notes say, right? You call yourself Justice Incarnate. Do you see yourself as more righteous than the people on that list of yours?

NG: Yes. Not because I’m a good person, but because it’s not that hard to be a better person than those wastes of space.

JD: I see… And you despise the legal system, from what I gather?

NG: I hate everything about it. I want to burn it to the ground and spit on the ashes.

JD: Mmhmm…

NG: …Are you afraid of me, detective?

JD: Why would I be afraid of you?

NG: Because I want to dismantle the system that gave you your comfortable little life.

JD: Well, I’m not particularly afraid of you. I deal with people of your standing every day.

NG: You mean, the criminally insane?

JD: I don’t believe you are. I think you may be misguided.

NG: Misguided or not, I won’t stop.

JD: I know… That’s why you have to stay here, for a very long time.

NG: We’ll see about that.

[Long silence]

NG: …Can I ask you a question?

JD: [Chuckle] I thought I was the detective here, huh?

NG: Humor me.

JD: Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?

NG: Towards the beginning of your little recording, you said this was your third attempt at getting ahold of me.

JD: That stuck with you?

NG: Yeah, well, consider my memory good.

NG: …But, why? Why did you fight so hard to talk to me? You coulda walked away the first time, you know. It’s not like I’m part of an active investigation right now- [Handcuffs rattle] -especially stuck in here. So, why?

JD: Like I said, your case fascinates me. I want to understand how your mind works. It’s not often that someone so young is compelled to act so radically on a whim, but I was wrong about you. It looks like you’re operating on a belief system years in the making. You put a lot of thought into this.

NG: You’ve thought about me a lot, huh?

JD: [Laughs] Maybe.

NG: …Is that because you found your name on my list?

[Long silence]

JD: …What?

NG: Don’t play dumb. You’re the detective in the room, after all. I recognized your name the moment you said it. Jackson Dunlop. I know all about you. I know all about your abuse of your power. I know all about your missing wife. That’s why you’re one of my targets.

[Long silence]

NG: But, you knew that. That’s why you’re here, and that’s why you’re asking me all these questions. You wanna learn about me because you wanna survive me. Well, lemme tell you something… I’m not giving you shit. And the moment I get out of this hellhole, I’m coming for you, and I’ll thoroughly enjoy the thrill of sliding my blade across your throat and letting you choke and writhe to death in a pool of your own making. And if you somehow find the breath to beg me for mercy, I’ll put a hole in your skull, and only then will you feel the sweet release of death.

[Long silence]

NG: …Are you afraid of me, now, detective?

JD: [Voice wavering] I- I think our little meeting here is over-

[Click]

[TAPE END]

Post-Transcript Notes: Nevermore escaped the penitentiary two weeks after the recording of this file. Detective Dunlop also went missing within the hour, but not before marking this file for deletion. An investigation was launched for the missing detective, though the investigators who’ve listened to this tape stand to reason they know exactly what happened to him. It would seem Justice Incarnate has struck again…

[arminsumi]

hi hi if your requests are open, could i request how the aot boys would react / deal with having a crush on reader? and how they'd eventually confess? // thank you! :")

YOU NEEDN'T SAY MORE I GOT U <3 Tysm for ur req!

AOT fluff | Crushing on you + their confessions

With; Levi, Erwin, Armin, Eren

Just thinking about the AOT boys crushing on you, and who would and wouldn't outright tell you they like you or not hehe

(„ಡωಡ„) P.s. my sweet noodles, I'm writing an Eren/Armin love triangle fic you can read it here

Levi

His crush on you gradually develops without him realizing it

When he recognizes that his feelings aren't purely friendly, he immediately puts himself in a state of denial to protect his fragile heart

Probably after a solid two or three years, he stops this denial madness and accepts that he likes you more than he ever expected to

Ah, the way he looks at you... with a vague tenderness, a gentle feeling lighting up those grey irises. No one else gets this sort of look from Levi, just you

Spends his insomniac-riddled nights daydreaming of you to soothe his nerves

Blushes a lot but you'd never notice because he conceals it perfectly with a practiced unphased look

When he confesses, he merely insinuates it at first, but when he sees that you didn't understand, that's when he'll flatly blurt out;

"It's you. You're the one; the one who somehow, I don't know how, but somehow managed to get me feeling weightless."

Blushes very dramatically when you reciprocate his feelings

Erwin

Something about your scent drives him crazier each time he sees you

Acts all nonchalant and strong-willed, but you're the one thing that's capable of pulling him apart

You call out the playful side of him; if you mess around, he'll smile broadly and suppress a laugh with all his might

Oddly self-conscious about how he speaks with you, so he'll try be even more eloquent

YOU BEST BET HE STARES RESPECTIVELY, HE'S A WONDERFULLY GENTLEMANLY GENTLEMAN >:( Zero perv energy!! You just know you can be comfortable around him even in more revealing clothes, idk I just feel like he'd avert his gaze at all times just so he doesn't discomfort you

He's tactful with his confession; to him, the right moment was when you and him were on his bed, dripping with wetness after taking refuge from the downpour outside. He brought you a towel, dried your hair, then leaned down to press the gentlest of kisses to your forehead before murmuring sweetly;

"You mean more to me than anyone, I want you to know that."

Gives you the best pep talks (I mean obviously he's Erwin???) bc he wants you to have confidence in yourself above all

Armin

Jumps with excitement at your presence; really, it's so blatant that he likes you with how bright his face becomes when you're in the room

Everyone knows he likes you, he literally exudes the 'I like you' vibes at all times, and in the sweetest way possible

Slightly obsessive, but in the most endearing way possible <3

Sometimes he gets these out-of-fucking-nowhere loud-ass voice cracks??? THEY'RE SO CUTE???

Sways a bit to calm his nerves when he's with you

You just bet he's writing in his diary sum sad shit about how 'they'll never like me back...'

Blushes up to his ears when he embarrasses himself around you (You just make him uncouth, and he has no idea why)

Sometimes he'll trail off and blush, muttering "Er, but, anyways..." because your prettiness distracted him

Just rlly wants to kiss you until he runs out of breath :( <3

Gives you this melancholic longing look, as if he's hoping his eyes alone can confess his feelings

Okay I just rlly like the idea that he listens to Sweet Tooth by Cavetown and hums the line "I like you... say it back"

His confession is def an accident; he blurts it out all at once

"I, you know, just... I like you so much... more than anyone. I mean- I just- I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, sorry! I just can't help it."

After that he's pinching his eyes shut out of embarrassment

Eren

Oh he'll confess alright... if it's the bloody apocalypse lol

He's just too sensitive to rejection to confess to you, and he doesn't want to ruin your friendship because he cherishes it so sincerely

Sometimes it feels like he's trying to eat you with his eyes. Gives you very intense gazes, like his eyes are blazing, leaving you to wonder if he likes you

But the second you start catching on, he notices, and throws curveballs to get you off the trail

Then you're all like ok maybe he doesn't like me in that way???

He's really quiet around you, which is bizarre, since Eren is always the loud-mouthed hot head who speaks his mind unashamedly

Honey idc what y'all think he has THE most unholy thoughts about his crush over all the AOT boys

Gets jealous so damn easily

Especially jealous over Jean and Armin being too friendly w you

You two started this inside joke about calling him 'daddy' (because he claimed the daddy kink was 'cringe') and, oh boy, his heart flutters whenever you joke around and call him daddy

He HATES hugs... but he gives you hugs <3 And long ones, too

That's all for this post, bye sweeties!

[astarab1aze]

"You look like you're ready to have kittens, kitten." A deep, insinuating chuckle resounded in his chest, but how much of what he'd said did he intend as a joke? With the way he caressed Dex's flat belly, so innocent in keeping away from thighs that guarded against him, there wasn't a lot he left to imagination. And Dex was a smart boy: the cruel side to Sylus' character hoped he guessed it the first time. There was, sadly, nothing anyone could do about changing an incubus.

A long and - he wondered if it would be apt to say - earth-shattering evening had left him in shuddering, still-trembling shambles; He could scarcely breathe, his heartrate impossible to keep up with, lungs burning, hips twitching, teeth perhaps biting a little too hard into his lower lip, and he was exhausted, utterly spent. Half-tempted to succumb to the vague notions of pain settling into his lower back, nerves afrayed by the devil's fingertips then slowly, in some barely conscionable way, threading together loose ends with gentler hands this time. But he knew better than to trust Sylus' intentions were pure, as he'd proven time and time again for hours, searing himself into Dex's body as if...it would kill him not to.

Maybe a misreading, but, Dex thought it strange just how unreasonably insufferable Sylus had been. Not that he didn't enjoy it, rather the opposite was true. He wanted this - he wanted the devil all to himself, in some ways taking advantage of his insatiability, his nature as a devil. He was a lifeline, to him, in one sense or another, wh Sylus fed on. He wanted it to stay that way, for those hands, those eyes, that hungry mouth, and every bit of his attention on him, just like this. In the quiet of a private place, nestled together into silk sheets and down, unable to even pretend to fight the slow drag of Sylus' fingers across his belly - vividly recalling its temporary distension earlier in the mirror, arms too weak to push the devil away, voice all but whithering in his throat.

At the very least, Sylus had afforded him an opportunity to rest, besides - he kept his thighs pressed firmly together anyway, ignoring how feebly they shook.

"S-Sylus, give me- a-a moment," he managed, stammering softly. Arms crossing over his face, he heaved a handful of breaths, shielding himself from the devil's gaze in an attempt to make it easier on himself. This sort of thing, to be touched and attended to, seen as special despite being so unbearably human, special enough to single out and ravish so often and so thoroughly, as if there was no one else and could never be-- Maybe it went to his head, on occasion, but he didn't care if one such time had been then. Sylus' attention was his and his alone to take, bathe in, drink up, and suffer through. Hips jerked slightly, and, slowly, thighs carefully, achefully spread apart, allowing the devil some room to nestle into what some small, awful part of Dex was happy to call his rightful place. Nonsense, nonsense, how scrambled his brain, perhaps he had energy enough to entertain the notion of being split apart a second, third, or fourth time. So long as Sylus was focused on him, he may yet adapt to his storm.

Still, he winced as he moved, hips lifting off the bed some to twitch and readjust, a hand coming down to loop around Sylus' wrist, almost limply. "Y-You're awful," he groaned airily, "T-touch me here." And he dragged that large, forceful hand to his chest, his throat, and pulled, in some worthless attempt at urging him down, down, and into a kiss. Insistent, really, despite himself. If the devil wanted more, then he could grant him this, laced fingers, and some spare semblence of tenderness; He'd already gotten Dex to relent, give in- "K-Kiss me first, b-before anything." A wheeze, a whimper, but no less a command of his own.

"Or y-you get nothing."