#match made in horrid heaven

[ratatatastic]

if anything im just deeply fascinated in how they chose to sign their masterspieces. we have men who are lazy (ekky going for "Ek" mikksy going for "N") men who just chose nicknames (sasha and reino... well with "Sasha" and "Reino") men who just went with their first name (uvis with "Uvis" because i wouldnt particularly want to write ballsy or bally on that piece of paper either lmao) men with intials (Broqvist with "J. Bo" and "A. Bo" man who finished college recently and decided yeah i should at least to attempt to put my full name there huh and whatever the fuck roddys on by putting "John (Evan)" as of he was trying to pass it off to someone else???

[tremendouscreationperson]

Sam decided that enough was enough. They had been dancing around each other for too long. He couldn't take it any more.

It would be subtle, his words weren't harmful or forceful. He simply commented "maybe if you had a more feminine vessel you could blink your pretty eyes and this would be over" as he exited the motel room, conveniently going to 'the library'.

Castiel frowned deeply.

He had not thought about this vessel, had not considered it to be incorrect. But as he digested Sam's words... Maybe it was. His feelings - new and uninhibited - were strong and he was fascinated with the older Winchester, however Dean glanced at women. Dean didn't glance at men and Castiel was technically a man.

Dean's gaze caught Cas', his mouth was ajar and he wore a matching frown. "Cas don't listen to that ass hat."

But Castiel couldn't help it. This was all new, he had been invited on a hunt and found himself enjoying the slow path. He liked living a 'human' life, the normality of it was refreshing. He didn't have to defend his position in Heaven or fight on the front lines. He could simply be.

Being in Heaven was horrid now he had openly defined God and his siblings in favour of the Righteous man and his family.

Castiel had made that decision and by doing so essentially snapped his own halo.

And now he was just considering that maybe he should have stayed up there. Stayed emotionless because why was this vessel not satisfactory? Why did he have these doubts that he would never had had years ago?

Castiel moved with an effortless grace to the bathroom and stood in front of the small mirror. His face was fairly symmetrical and he had proportionate features.

He didn't see the need for beauty in himself but his eyes caught movement behind his right shoulder and there it was. Dean stood, concern splattered across his features but by God he was glorious. Dean Winchester was perfect. He was beautiful in body and soul.

Castiel realised now that 'blinking your pretty eyes' could work if it was Dean doing the blinking.

"Do I not have 'pretty eyes'?" Cas' eyes were small and blue. There was not much else about them.

"Cas, you're fine. Your eyes are 'pretty'." Dean's own stared a hole into the back of Cas' head.

"Is this vessel displeasing?" Castiel observed his face again, each line, each hair, each imperfection.

"No." Dean was firm. He broke eye contact, looking around the subpar facilities before coming back to Castiel. "You're not displeasing."

Cas couldn't believe that. How could he when it was plain to see? Memories flashed of Dean putting distances between them and breaking their prolonged eye contact and being the first to tell Cas off. Dean was disappointed. He found it hard to be close to Castiel in public and in private which felt... It felt sore? There was discomfort. Castiel found that he was fond of Dean, so so much, but Dean was embarrassed. He clearly didn't like this body.

"Do I embarrass you?" Castiel found himself asking. His hands plucked at the trench coat. "I could change my appeara-"

"No." Dean was firmer.

"Dean."

"Cas."

"It is no bother." Perhaps if he pretended it wasn't Dean would feel comfortable?

"Cas, you're fucking gorgeous." Dean snapped, rolling his eyes.

That took Castiel aback. He was gorgeous? The Angel found himself looking at his borrowed face again. He didn't see it.

He was just human.

Nothing special.

But if Dean thought that...

"If you're s-"

"I'm sure." Dean spoke, he had closed the distance, his words were quieter due to the proximity. "You're-" He swallowed. "You're hot."

Castiel couldn't stop the expression if he tried. The mirror showed his coy smile and Dean smirked back. Castiel's face felt warm, Dean was correct, he was hot. "I'm not sure why Sam would say such a thing."

Dean swallowed, his tongue scraped against his teeth. "He's trying to get a rise outta me."

Cas quirked his head to the side and Dean's eyes crinkled.

"Fuck it, it's been long enough-" he sighed "-Sam knows I find you attractive and I'm sorry if that is strange. I know it isn't you and I've been dealing with the fact that you're a man but fuck it- it's not the body that hot, it's you, Cas. It's the Angel who saved my ass, it's the friend that laughs at my jokes when I know you don't understand them, it's the way you wipe blood off your angel blade." He made a humming noise and Cas found himself short of breath.

"I-" Cas cleared his throat. "Dean."

That word snapped Dean from reminiscing and the human spun Cas to face him. "This is exactly what Sammy wanted and I'm going to fucking kill him but God you're sexy."

Cas watched Dean wet his lips and dragged his eyes back up. "I find you equally as attractive."

That's all Dean needed to hear.

He crowded Cas, who was already leaning against the sink, and kissed him with years worth of want.

He poured everything into the kiss. Every want, every need, every almost, every if, every dream, everything. So much so that he hoisted Cas upon the sink and found himself in-between Cas' thighs.

Dean had to breathe. Fuck being human. But he didn't let that stop him. He kissed his way down Cas' jaw and nipped at the exposed skin of his neck. Dean had always appreciated from afar the loose tie and undone buttons but close up he was buzzing. He finally was able to suck at Cas' jaw and bite and lick along the veins that teased him.

"Fucking beautiful." Dean didn't speak that for Cas. He merely stated the obvious for anyone to hear.

Cas found himself twitching and gasping at the sensations. Finding that he loves the sound of Dean's voice right at his ear, it made his spine straighten and his abdomen had developed a warm feeling.

"Dean." Cas' voice was deeper. How had his voice become deeper?

The human looked up at Cas and he was struck, once again, at how perfect Dean was. Physically he was beautiful, he would've had his own temple if he was born a few hundred years ago. But his soul danced around, glowing iridescently from his being.

Unbeknownst to Dean his green eyes reflected all of this. All of his soul and hopes and desires and everything the little human wanted to give.

"You-" Cas tried. "Your eyes are-"

Dean let them fall to Cas' lips and back up to meet his blue orbs. "Not as nice as yours."

Cas didn't know how to respond. He hadn't known how to navigate any of this but he did what he thought was best; he lent down and met Dean's lips.

[darkpurpledawn]

For the AU-gust prompt "Sculptor AU"

“But as your realtor, Mr. Crowley, I do insist that a different piece would be more-ah, welcoming for the foyer.”

Aziraphale’s hands twisted around his briefcase. They were oddly sweaty, although it was a cool day and the Mayfair residence was well-shaded by a mature hawthorn.

“But you do like it?” Crowley asked. His expression was unreadable beneath the everpresent sunglasses, but Aziraphale thought his gaze flicked to the statue of the two angels.

Aziraphale did, in fact, like it. It was large and dramatic, and sculpted with a vigor that made it look as though the winged beings might topple from their pedestal. But it had been dashed difficult to get Crowley to make any of his living space more approachable-looking before he put this hulking thing in the entry, and Aziraphale suspected the average homebuyer might find it all a bit much.

“Oh I’m no great art appreciator, Mr. Crowley,” Aziraphale demurred. “Certainly I think you’ve evident talent, and it’s quite--compelling.”

Crowley tapped his nose thoughtfully with one finger. Aziraphale imagined him running those long fingers over the marble flanks of the angels, bringing forth flesh from stone. He mentally chastised the capillaries in his face for blushing in front of a client.

“It’s Good and Evil, you know, can’t get more classic than that,” Crowley drawled. “Thought I’d make evil win this time though.”

He lowered the sunglasses and gave Aziraphale a wink.

Oh, now that was unfair.

“Mr. Crowley, did you have a look at the paint samples I suggested for the upstairs bath?” Aziraphale said faintly.

“Erm, yeah,” said Crowley, “I didn’t know there were that many kinds of beige, being honest.”

Aziraphale exhaled. They were back on firmer footing now. It was impossible to be erotically excited by comparing shades of ecru.

“Let’s take a quick look at the baseboards and see which of the suggested colors best matches the tile,” Aziraphale suggested.

Crowley nodded, and headed for the stairway. Aziraphale cast his eyes around at the projects in Crowley’s studio on the ascent to the second floor. There was a monstrous-looking dog, snakes that seemed about to wriggle free from their stone skin, and a number of angels that seemed to be in various states of psychological distress.

“Whoa!” 

Aziraphale moved before he could think, before he could really see what had happened--Crowley tripped and fell back a stair and Aziraphale braced himself against the railing and stopped the two of them from falling further.

“For heaven’s sake, my own sodding flat--thanks Mr. Fell, sorry about that,” Crowley said, and stood upright again. Aziraphale was relieved--Crowley’s back was no longer pressing into him--until Crowley turned around to look at his rescuer, and he was forced to bear the pressure of an even more hazardous side of Crowley. 

Think of beige, he instructed himself. Think of baseboards, think of bifold doors. Think of renovations to historic buildings that remove all the ornamental stonework. Think of smart home devices, and those horrid bookshelves that barely have any books on them at all. Think of all the dreadful, palatable things you tell people to put in their homes.

Think of Crowley moving away from London. Think of how you’ll never have to think of this again.

[connectionterminated13]

Arcade machines/ Costumes

Talbert files fan fiction yes I have sunk into that low oh friends... Specifically this is for the #7nightsoffrightsprompts Thing hosted by @driftingvoid-155 . And before we get into it warnings. I missed any tell me in the comments below

tw, Body horror, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, mental illness, Cigars, Talbert being Talbert.

It was the noise Michael hated most. No it wasn't the noise of the others or the noise of the man blabbering about whatever smart thing he had thought he had come up with and that stupid little room no it was the arcade machines. Every time he found himself crawling through one of those vents it made his head pound and scream.

The noise of those stupid children seemed to shake the building. All the sounds made Michael want to do nothing more than curl up with Fredbear and cry. But then if he did so, Fredbear would yell at him and call him all kinds of names like a stupid bleeding coward until he had to crawl through these dastardly vents once again. God in heaven why couldn't he just roll over and die already. For he was nearly sure that when he did die and walk through the gates of hell the devil would weep at challenge he presented, for there was no greater torture than the screaming, metal, cramped tube he was now wandering through.

He was lost in these thoughts when he bumped into the Great. He let out a sort of strangled yell and shrunk back slightly looking closer at the thing that had hurt his head. It was a vent grate opening up onto the arcade floor. He could see the kids there so many of them yelling and screaming and playing their loud machines and wearing their costume. 

Gosh it was Halloween and somehow he had forgotten! Halloween had been his favorite time of the year as a child, as a human and now Halloween was one of the few times in his miserable excuse for a life that he could be among the people. Every other year Halloween had been something Michael had counted down to in his head. Every other year he had spent what little money he could steal from the bodies of his victims on a costume. Every year he had just done things like sat on benches and walked into stores and been unnoticed...

It was the one time of year where someone like him could be a man and not some kind of horrible disgusting Beast that was better to be ignored or shot. Oh That's what they thought of him the children running and screaming, yelling at each other about nothing in particular or at least that's what fredbear said. Michael continued to crawl through the vents looking for another way. Way to what he wasn't sure. possibly out this time…

Wouldn't it be grand to get out of these interlocking holes of nothingness out, of the cacophony of screaming children and the sounds so distant yet so close of that stupid God damn man that had lured him here.

Michael had found out almost 2 days after arriving that the man's name was Talbert. He was of average height and slightly overweight with brown red curly hair and obnoxious sideburns. He had an even more obnoxious Irish accent to match and seemed to think that he was the best thing to have ever existed. But no he wasn't anything! at least that's what fredbear said. 

Michael stopped ahead of him, was the other one. The tangle of wires and dried blood and screaming children that had so long ago ruined his life in every conceivable way. If he was a good man, like the heroes and those children's games he would have fought the thing. He would have killed it but he was not so..

He waved at it. 

Wave back before slithering down a different vent to their right. 

Fredbear said this was a good thing to do. Michael agreed. 

Fredbear had started talking shortly after the horrible wire thing had buried its way in and out of Michael's chest. Specifically Fredbear had started talking after Michael had ran home After nearly 3 days of running about the woods. He had collapsed on the ground and cried his horrid hideous black tears and begged in his breaking voice for someone to come and help him. 

Fredbear had come like an angel from heaven. And told him to start “making friends”. 

Michael had it first objected, he had swore and screamed and begged for fredbear to stop yelling at him to make friends until eventually he had given up. 

After all as Fredbear said he was no longer a person no man living or dead would ever look upon a wretch like him and take pity on it. What was even the point of trying to hold himself above men like his father if he was no longer a “son” in the first place. Was it not better to slip his mind Into Darkness and lose himself in the taste of blood and the joy of death. 

And yes sometimes it was sometimes fun, But most of the time it was utterly miserable. He'd give anything to be a kid again or not even a kid, Just a human again. What Michael would trade for just one single token even if the noise made his head split for a moment to just be Michael again really truly Michael.

But Fredbear told him to claw on and continue his crawl. 

So he did… And yes he did try to look for some way out but it was impossible. This place was like some kind of horrible awful maze meant to trap him in particular. Every time Michael thought he was coming close to a real way out he would bump into that room again with the screaming children and he knew if he got in there. Well, he would not be treated with kindness even on or at least close to one of the few times of the year where he could exist out in the sight of man.

If he fell out of the vent their fathers would gang up and beat him to death probably or at least that's what fredbear said and Fredbear was always right about this sort of thing.

So he continued his crawl and continued his thought. 

Halloween used to mean a lot to him.  Halloween used to mean times with his father and brothers And their family friend's daughter Cassidy. How he had missed all that when they had all slowly started to die off and then how he had grown up into a man, And Halloween's meant time with friends. He had so many friends.

But if he Remembered the names of his friends he would cry and Fredbear would yell at him again because of what those friends would think of him now. Oh he was not the hero of the story he was the villain the thing to be slain in those arcade games. But Halloween was the one time of year where he could put on a costume and not be that. He was just a regular old zombie or a zombie pirate or a zombie astronaut. He was someone in a costume!

No this year Talbert had called. Dirty evil Talbert who in his Everlasting cruelty had dragged Michael to run around this stupid maze like some kind of rat! Probably for his own sick enjoyment! Because that's what everyone thought of Michael! For either they're sick enjoyment or they're Terror wasn't it!?

At least that's what fredbear said and fredbear had to be right. Oh the things he do to Talbert when he got him he would rip the man limb from limb and Stitch the ugliest plushie he could from the man's innards then, he would throw the plushie off of bridge! He made a horrid strangled giggling noise at the thought of it. 

-

Christopher Talbert lit up another cigar. And chuckled to himself this was the most fun he had had in years. Halloween after all had been quite boring since the death of his daughter. 

After her unfortunate passing Halloween had turned into monotony with the interruption of the posts and His science experiments. Halloween was always the best time to post the misinformation he was fed. After all, people loved stories of missing children and men looking into ghosts around Halloween.. Also he could dress up which was fun. This year he was like last year Frankenstein!

Not the monster mind you, he was the doctor. After all he was human and the only monsters here were the ones crawling in the vents. He could hear them clumping about letting out the occasional inhuman scream or plead in a child's voice but he wouldn't listen.

They were animals, nothing more and nothing less it was his job to watch them and the job paid handsomely.

He let out cigar smoke into one of the vents. He was probably saving people after all by watching these things climb around since this was the one time of year they could almost blend in.

Oh this would be a year to remember. Emmett, foolish old Emmett had tried to trick him you see, thinking that Talbert wasn't aware of this little act he was putting on.

And that was the double entender to the costume you see! For well Emmett thought himself the Creator the Frankenstein of this event if you will, Talbert was the man really in control! or at least that's what he told himself because of course he had never actually read Frankenstein and had just made up the extra details about his costume to sound smart.

Honestly Talbert was very proud of himself for coming up with the costume idea in the first place. Even though it was probably the second most obvious thing a person would pick for Talbert as a Halloween costume.

He continued to sit and smile to himself not doing any work until he heard one of them crawl too close..

It was Michael or that was its former name. Local Legends called the thing the Stitch Wraith. Talbert had found quickly that calling it this made it quite mad. 

So Talbert swiveled to face the thing and smile, his most cruel smile. No, it was hard to keep on his face since the thing was so Goddamn ugly. Its skin hanging off its remaining bones loosely and it wore a large dirty overcoat and hoodie in a vain attempt to hide that ugliness. Also carried around a little fredbear plushie that honestly Talbert felt quite bad for.

“Hello there Stitch Wraith. I think it's a bit too early to be trick or treating don't you?” Before the thing could even let out an angry growl Talbert hit his hand down on the controlled shock button and the vent lit up with a static crackle making the thing squeal and slink back quickly.

Talbert smirked for the 100th time, Right before the thing disappeared from view.. 

“Have you no shame man? I suggest you at least try to put on some kind of costume. I mean no self-respecting man would give you anything dressed like that!” Talbert Yelled after the thing before breaking into laughter at his own joke.

[downtoncoquetteroach]

Notes: so, English is not my native language so please don't be harsh on me. This supposed to be a one shot, I wrote it at 4am on my phone to avoid anxiety and in the morning I came up with some more ideas so, idk how long this will be, no more than 5 chapters for sure, I'll try to publish the second one soon. Also this is my first published fanfiction ever. I hope you like it.

⭐If I could be who you wanted ⭐

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem reader

Neville Longbottom x Fem reader

Word account: 2,484

Summary: Fred Weasley has been your crush forever and getting him is a real possibility but, what if it's not what you need anymore?

TW: swearing, virginity loss, fingering, slightly minimal Dom kink, breeding kink.

No Neville in this chapter, only smut Fred

🤌🏻🔥

Chapters 2, 3, 4, 5

Chapter 1: Use your words 💫

His hair, beautifully brushing his nose, his long delicate fingers touching his wand, always playing with it, provoking occasionally sparks without his knowledge as a perfect example of how y/n was feeling her stomach, watching his every move. "Red is the colour of the heart, just like it is the hair of the man who stoled mine". Y/n wrote that when she was 13 and she was full of embarrassment recognizing that she was about to send him a card with that horrid text inside but stopped as soon as she saw him and his twin mocking Ginny and other cheesey girls on valentine's. Love was as funny and unreal for him as his older brother perfect pin badge. So y/n managed to keep her love for Fred Weasley a secret, no one knew she loved him so bad she wanted to throw up every time he touched her hair, even in a playful way, she should have felt like a dog but her whole underwear was full of weird stains that could prove that she was totally soked for the man most of the time, it was ridiculous. When she found out he wanted to be on The Triwizard Tournament she cried the whole night thinking about what could happen to him, what if he died, what if he got serious damage, God how she cried, always on the verge of dramatism, always concerned about his grades and what if he got expelled?, how could she managed to survive without looking at his amazing outline, his beautiful eyes, his lovely lips mocking her whit that mischievous smile. Damn to re-read y/n first years at Hogwarts diaries is agony. She was delusional for the man... and then, the fantasy became real, but not at all in the way she expected.

So, yeah, they weren't super close but they were friends, since first year, she practically sat beside him and George at every meal and teamed up with them from time to time on class, they joked, they play, they sang out loud at party's, coping each others homework. But it wasn't like she was going with them to Hogsmeade on weekends, she was not taken in consideration for big pranks, she didn't even get the scoop in them, he certainly didn't talk to her about his girls or bring her anything from his kitchen rounds. But then, one night something changed.

The whole Gryffindor house was celebrating winning the quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Cherry Coloured Funk by Cocteau twins was playing in the old record player while every student left tried to understand what the singer was singing about, comparing her to Celestina Warbeck, drunk laughter's filling the common room, a nice soft red conjured light making everything dreamy and surreal, y/n wasn't drunk but certainly feeling funny, relaxed enough to dance alone in front of other people without being self conscious, and then, she felt a cold hand on her's, pulling with force, making her trip over the hand owners lap, Fred's lap. Y/n blushed so hard, she was immediately trying to stand, they were separated from the others, so that made him brave enough to do what he did. As Heaven or Las Vegas was filling the night, Fred's soft long slim fingers were caressing her skirt fabric, above her knees, his other hand grabbing her waist, eyes locked on y/n, his mouth slightly open, lips almost touching her's, holding his breath while his thumb finally reached her core and just for a second he touched her. Y/n jumped at the sensation and woke him up from his drunkness, he let her go and she went upstairs to wash her face, running through the whole staircase and finding her room empty, the other girls were probably around the castle kissing boys. As soon as she was alone she was full of regret, why did she run away? Why did he did that? Was that real or one of her daydreams coming to life courtesy of firewhiskey? Y/n finished washing her face when she hear some shy knocking on the door, it was Fred.

He looked embarrassed, something so unsettling to witness given the fact that he was always so confident and nonchalant. He stood there, red face matching his hair when he started speaking in a hurry, bumbling:

love I'm so sorry I, I want to apologize, I didn't mean, I, I don't know what happened to me, I wasn't sure what I...

She simply said: it's fine, it is really I don't, I mean It was nice.

She sounded so bloody stupid, but she did not want to make him feel as awful as he looked and besides she wasn't lying. Fred stood there in silence without a clue on what to do next, she was feeling the same way, but then he said

Are you... alone?

Yes

Wonderful

He got inside the room and closed the door with a locking charm and a silencing spell, then walked slowly to y/n looking relieved and more like himself

You know sweetheart, you shouldn't let anyone ever touch you like that, you seemed scared, maybe I was too harsh?

No! No, it was -

Nice yeah, you said that but, didn't look like you enjoyed yourself so much do you? I might be a little drunk but, I can recognize when a girl is not happy with my advances

Y/n was shocked, how could this be happening? The whole conversation was unreal, he was making her feel like a little furry creature, nervousness weakening her knees, her knickers almost dropping just by looking at him, Fred bloody Weasley in her damn room, eyes full of...desire? quidditch uniform still on, his classic mischievous smile coming up, him, getting closer and closer to her

He held her hand

Is it ok that I'm here?

Y -yeah, sure

Do YOU want me here?

Y/n managed to nod slowly but he immediately said

Use your words princess

I-

He was gently touching her cheek, instantly making her close her eyes as he got closer to her lips, whispering

Do you want me here?

And releasing a sight she was holding since the first time she saw him on the train to Hogwarts she said

I do.

He kissed her.

He's soft lips were caressing her's so slowly and delicately while his scent filled y/n's head, he got his hands on her's, fingers interwined, guiding y/n slowly to the bed, his wet tongue licking her lower lip, making y/n whimper in surprise. She had never ever kissed a boy in the french way before which was her biggest insecurity given the fact that she was almost sixteen. Fred stoped.

Love, please tell me if I am wrong but, is this your first kiss?

She guessed it was her scared look what gave her away

Ahm

She started to get away but he stopped her

Princess if I'm making you uncomfortable please tell me and I'll leave you alone forever, but kissing your beautiful lips before any man its my biggest achievement so far, so, tell me, I'm the first?

Y/n's pride was hurt a little when she quietly said

You are.

Y/n had never seen lust before, Fred's eyes were almost black and closed while he reached to kiss her more passionately than before, holding her face between his hands while she dared to put her hands through his long beautiful hair, immediately rewarded with a soft grunt fully delivered in her mouth. She could feel her core throbbing, head spinning, hormones screaming through her skin by the feeling of his tongue all over her's, he put her on the bed softly and then got on top of her, his long strong legs opening her's, y/n could feel his hardness through their clothes, pushing hard on her wet pussy, his hands were all over her legs and ass while her hands were fumbling under his sweater, reaching his bare stomach and hips. Fred was over the edge, the other girls he had before were much more experienced and older than him, he always ended up being their prey, this was the very first time he was in control and he liked it so much he was ready to cum just now. It wasn't just that. To be honest, he was absolutely turned on by y/n since he found out about her sweet crush on him in third year, he liked to pet her just to see her blush, but it wasn't until this night, with his confidence over the cloud's by wining the game that he had the courage to make his fantasy's real. Y/n eyes were full of adoration, he could feel his dick getting painfully hard as she lay beneath him, so horny and willing to give herself to him. She looked so beautiful he couldn't stop touching her skin while looking at her in the eyes just to see her reaction. She was so sensitive, that when he started to take her clothes she was full of goosebumps, almost drooling at the sight of him without his sweater and t shirt.

Y/n was totally sober by now because of the impression, was her first time happening? She was about to lose her virginity to Fred Weasley? How could she be so lucky? And then she started feeling worried, what if she didn't make him feel good? She didn't know how to give pleasure to a boy, and he looked so secure, in charge of everything... he must had read her thought because he suddenly said

Y/n do you want to stop? It's ok if you do, no hard feelings or anything, if you are not comfortable we can just hang and that's all

She was glad he didn't said he'll leave.

It's ok Fred, I want you

Jesus fucking Christ y/n had never said anything so direct and needy in her whole life, what was it about this man that turned her into a complete moron. She wished that it was more alcohol in her system to keep her relax and cool but the fire whiskey was long gone with all of her sweat and lubrication. That thought made her question, what if Fred was so drunk she was taking advantage of him

But ahm, aren't you drunk? Isn't this something you would regret tomorrow? What if I'm taking advantage of you? Your judgement is not right at the moment we should...

Fred laughed, he couldn't believe how sweet she was, he got closer to her ear and whispered

Love, I'm going to destroy your little pussy.

She was unable to contain a moan, Fred started kissing her neck, licking his way down on her, y/n's breath was shaking, she didn't knew what to do or what was gonna happen, Fred was pulling aside her little flowered pantys and without warning, he started licking her violently. It was incredible helpful that he put a silence charm on before because y/n's whimpers could have woken up the entire castle. She tasted so good he couldn't stoped liking her hole cunt and the fact that she was fully soaked for him before he even did anything was priceless. He wanted to put his fingers inside her but he managed to wait, he just had to see her face while he took her virginity.

Y/n was almost fainting, she didn't knew she could feel that much pleasure, that boy's could do that with their tongs, she was over the edge and without even thinking she said

Fred, fuck me, please, I need you

He almost came. Having her pleading for his dick while he eat her was just too much, he pulled apart from her and stood

What did you say princess?

Y/n was totally out of herself

Im, I- I want you, I want you inside me

Y/n's sudden shyness made his dick leak some pre cum and he unbuttoned his trousers. She was so freaking cute, he couldn't handle it, all of those years of watching her, so shy, so tender, and now he was about to make her his.

Y/n couldn't stop staring at Fred's amazing torso exposed, his muscly arms, long slim fingers, soft messy hair, smooth skin, and then his wonderful knob in all of his glory making her a little bit worried, he was all over the edge by the impression in her face

Love don't worry, you'll take me just fine

Fred got on top of her again, kissing every part of her body, sucking her breast, caressing her body with the tip of his fingers, causing goosebumps all over her...agitated breath anticipating the pain.

She felt it, his huge hard dick all over her fanny, so tasty it made them both grunt loudly, he's started swearing quietly while he rocked her, getting all wet and nice to make it fit, and then looked at her in the eyes

Last chance to run angel, are you sure you want me to...

Y/n kissed him and then she said

Fred I'm already yours just take me -

And he did. He knew for a fact that making things slowly just prolonged the pain so he did give her his whole cock in one exhibit while he scrutinized her face, her eyes, her lips. He wanted to memorize all of the perfect sounds his little princess was making for him, because of him. He kept fucking her, asking occasionally if she was alright.

Princess can I come inside you?

Y/n couldn't handle it anymore and came so badly she stopped hearing what he said after. She sensed her insides full of his delicious juices and felt happy that he understood and kept her eyes closed for a while, trying to conceive what had just happened.

Fred was freaked, he just told her that he wanted to filled her with his baby's. He had never ever said (neither thought) that before, wtf was going on with him. And the worst part was that he actually meant it? His dick was getting hard again just by thinking of it. Merlin, and she wasn't saying anything. What should he do?

Angel are you ok?

She was asleep.

[sparroweds]

The Savage Strikes at Midnight, Chapter One— Shīdì, Shīxīong.

"Shixiong!" 

Mei Changhong perks up, glancing over when his name is called. He had just stepped outside where a beautiful purple carriage awaited, his purple fan Suiyong in his hand— it's bladed tip noticeable to anyone who saw. It was a beloved weapon, one that was passed down from his mother. He had stopped walking for a moment, to see his shidi, Nuwa Boyin, and his mother, their master Nuwa Mingqi. She also happened to be the State Preceptor of Wuyong.

"Ah.. is something wrong?" He asked, folding up the fan to tuck it into his inner robe. The State Preceptor's smile was thin, and he couldn't help but feel like it felt a little fake. But he rid himself of the thought quickly. He had no interest in assuming horrid things about a woman who had been nothing but kind to him. The State Preceptor Nuwa Mingqi shook her head, and Nuwa Boyin grinned. "Shixiong, are you going home? I don't understand how you do it, the second oldest of eight, and the oldest son! How in Heaven's name do you do it?" He asked, and he couldn't help a soft laugh. Unbeknownst to him, the youngers eyes held some venom to them.

That was just counting his own family, and not the sons and daughters of the Mei family's servants. All and all, there were probably around closer to around a hundred children— and that was involving his immediate family, distant family, and his family's servants and maids and butlers, and their families. But Changhong only smiled. "There's certainly never a dull moment in the Mei Manor. I'll see you both tomorrow? Good night shizun, good night shidi." He gave his farewells before he climbed into the carriage.

An elderly man at the helm held the reins of two beautiful white horses. "To home, Young Master Mei?" He questioned. Mei Changhong shook his head gently. "... Not just yet, Zhangyu. Could you make a stop to Young Master Lan's residence?" He requested. The older man smiled, bowing his head as he obeyed. Mei Changhong sat back, slightly bouncing his leg as the trip was made. 

"We're here, Young Master Mei," Zhangyu had made the announcement. Coming around to open the door of the carriage, Mei Changhong got out. He walked up to the manor, but he didn't have time before strong hands picked him up by  the waist and twirled him around. He could feel his face turning red. 

"Aeugh, that's fucking gross. Your Highness Wuyong, could you please get a damn room?" A scoff is made, and he glanced over to see a youth, his buff arms crossed over his chest. His hair tied into a tight bun, and through it was a hairstick. It had a clear butterfly tassel dangling from the end of it. This was none other than Ju Jianyu, His Highness' personal guard. He wore black robes, but speckles of gold were decorated onto his long sleeves. On the left shoulder of his robes was a golden insignia, in the shape of a chrysanthemum, the Ju family's crest.

His Highness put him down, smiling half-apologetic at his bodyguard. However, his hands remained on his small waist. Mei Changhong wanted to squirm at the size difference of his prince's large hands on his waist. "A-Yu, don't be like that!" A loud boisterous voice laughs, footsteps light. He visibly saw Jianyu's face flush as a man in red elegant robes joined him. There was a small ponytail in his hair, and surrounding his hair was a braided bow of his dark brown hair— but otherwise, it fell past his back. 

This was Zhu Daxing, the charming and patient heir of the Zhu family. He was His Highness' personal attendant; and other than His Highness, there was no one stronger in their group. A butterfly tassel dangled from his earring, matching Ju Jianyu's hairstick. Very rarely could you see him without his signature red robes, with a darker red inner robe poking out. Along the lines of his sash were vermillion flowers sewn into it. 

"... Xing'er," Jianyu cleared his throat then turned to the two of them. "Regardless. Your Highness-" He paused, as if it sounded wrong on his tongue. His voice softened, and then, the prince's real name rolled off his tongue. "... Yingxiong. You cannot just go grabbing Changhong like that. People will get the wrong idea if you just go grabbing your advisor in that manner. He has vows."

"Nah, they should know that His Highness has a particular way of showing his affections for his friends," a new voice is quiet and subtle as the eldest of them approached. The young master of the Lan family, and the prince's personal healer, Qiqiang. His hair reaching down to his very middle back, orchids braided into his hair. "They should know that even if our Mei–Mei has sworn an oath of celibacy, no one else will ever take his place at His Highness Wuyong’s side as his most trusted friend. They can dream on."

He found himself sighing, shaking his head. What has he told them about calling him that? Qiqiang would never change, and neither would the rest of them. Their kingdom was prosperous, and their friendship was eternal. Nothing could ever break it. "What to do with the four of you?" Mei Changhong frowned, a hand resting on his hip. His wonderful prince, His Highness Wu Yingxiong, only laughed. "Are you here to stay long, Mei–Mei?" 

He took a moment to consider it, and then shook his head quietly. He could not refuse his prince calling him that. "No, I'm afraid not." He found himself saying, much to the others dismay. A thin smile curled onto his lips, however, and he couldn't stop his soft laughter from leaving his lips. "We'll all meet up for breakfast tomorrow, how about it?"

Yingxiong had beamed with delight. "Sounds like a plan! We can all meet up at the Ju Manor." 

Ju Jianyu glanced over at their crowned prince at that suggestion. "Why are we doing that? Why can't we go to the palace, Your Highness? Wouldn't it make more sense?" He sighed, a hand going to his hip in mere annoyance. Lan Qiqiang snickered, though he quickly put up a sleeve to hide it. "It's merely because he's avoiding A-Ye like the plague. She's working in the palace tomorrow morning under Muqin's watchful eye, and he's taken to avoiding her."

Mei Changhong paused at the brief explanation, then glanced over at their prince. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. It was times like this that he had often forgot how awkward his prince could be when it came to those outside their inner circle. "... What did you do to get Chanye so pissed at you?"

The Chanye in question was Lan Chanye, Lan Qiqiang's younger sister whom he absolutely adored. She had this fierce rivalry with  Changhong's older sister, Minyue. You would never find them apart, although they had more of a friendly rivalry. The girls were on good terms after all. "She just doesn't like me," Yingxiong had sighed, and shook his head. "Not to mention that she seems to enjoy pulling these pranks on me." 

"Harmless fun, Your Highness," Lan Qiqiang laughed. They couldn't continue talking before Mei Changhong heard Zhangyu call out that it was getting late and that they needed to go home if they were to make it for supper. Zhu Daxing frowned, lips almost forming into a pout. Changhong shook his head, bidding goodbye to his friends before he went back to the carriage. 

The ride to the Mei Manor was long, but Changhong looked out one of the windows as the sight of Mei Manor's plum blossoms came into full view. It was one of his family's delights, their flowers that they were so proud of. The carriage soon stopped, and Zhangyu announced, "We are home, Young Master Mei."

Zhangyu had opened the door, letting him out. Mei Changhong had carefully got out, his hand on the older man's arm as he walked down the steps of the carriage and to the manor. They hadn't gotten very far when the front door to the manor opened, and a woman about seventeen years of age stepped out. She wrapped him in a tight hug, lifting him up. She was taller than he was.

"Jie, not so tight," Changhong breathed out. She put him down, and glanced up at a branch with a smile. He followed her gaze, finding a black cat perching on the branch. 

Some in Wuyong had often thought of black cats as bad omens, but not the Mei family. For many years, these cats were companions— each of the Mei family's heads and future heads had a familiar. This particular cat had a collar with a moonstone pendant dangling from it. "Xiaohei, why are you outside again?" 

The cat jumped down, circling him before rubbing his head against his leg. He slowly bent down at the waist, gathering his fuzzy companion in his arms. He purred in his arms, the little scandal. His sister Minyue put her hands on her waist. "You need to stop cracking your window. He keeps managing to open it to get out. It's like he's memorized the time you return from the Holy Temple."

He laughed at that, holding the black cat close as he, Minyue, and Zhangyu went inside. "I'll take that into consideration. Jie, they are very intelligent animals. I don't doubt that Xiaohei has managed to memorize my schedule." He'd put the cat down on one of the windowsills, just as three children the age of five came running towards him. They were Fuan, Jingyong, and Hongxia.

"Dage, you're back!" The only girl of the three, Fuan, squealed. Mei Changhong only laughed, and picked all three of them up. Jingyong fussed, and Hongxia's eyes gleamed. "Dage is so strong," he gasped. 

"A-Hong, you say hello to your youngest siblings but not your dear parents?" He heard a soft voice, and he put down the triplets. His violet eyes flicking to a woman with elegant purple robes, and a slightly shorter man with his hair put up in a bun. Mei Changhong kissed the top of his siblings' heads before he walked over, giving both his mother and father a warm hug.

"That's our boy," Mei Song smiled at his oldest son, while his wife Yi Shuchun brushed some hair out of his face. Mei Changhong looked around, noting that some of his siblings were missing, even as the scent of supper wafted in from the kitchen. Namely, his twelve year old brother, and eight year old sister. "A-Niang, A-Die, where are Liling and Xiaoyan?" 

His father hummed quietly. "Xiaoyan insisted on helping with supper. You know how he is, the boy's always insisting on picking up hobbies so that his future wife can rest while he takes care of everything. At least that's what he insists on. And as for Liling, she's out in the gardens right now. Why don't you go fetch her?"

Supper had gone off without a hitch, with the same amount of chatter as was expected from a supper that large. Mei Changhong had been getting ready for bed when he heard something coming from his sister's bedroom. Slowly, he opened the door.

Minyue had opened her window, and was halfway through it when he caught her. 

She jumped, startled. "Why aren't you in bed yet, A-Hong?" She questioned, a bag over her shoulder. His brows furrowed together. ".. Are you sneaking out to go see Chanye?" He wondered, ignoring her question. His sister jumped, slightly startled, and her face lit with a deep shade of red. "... I might be." She answered, before clearing her throat. "But you can't tell A-Niang or A-Die! Got it?" He would slowly nod his head, a shuddering feeling crawling up and down his skin. For the people of Wuyong, those that like the same gender will forever be outcasted. Mother and Father are good people, but even they would have had to outcast their oldest daughter if they knew what her heart truly desired. There's a part of him that fears for what they might say or do if they found out their beloved heir stared at the crowned prince far too long.

He heads to bed after that exchange, pretending he does not know that his sister is sneaking out. He falls asleep at eight, but he is woken up at midnight by a loud noise outside his bedroom room. 

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

The Promise of Life In Your Heartbeat

content: Trigun Stampede fanfiction. The group is currently resting on the ship with Luida and Brad. But someone has a night terror for Vash and Wolfwood to comfort them. Established relationships. Night terrors and comfort hugs. Mention of trauma. Mention of violence. Mention of torture. Mention of experimentation. Mention of death. Point of view character is an OC that has been experimented on to now be part Plant, part other, part nanomchine cyborg.

I didn't think. I couldn't think. I just vaulted and rushed. Out of my place of sleep to just lunge for Wolfwood and collapse on top of him. Clinging to his torso as he started cussing up a storm in his bed. Making Vash turn the light on as I shuddered from head to toe. Wolfwood grabbed my shoulders with a vice like grip that would have hurt. If I was registering pain. Which Wolfwood caught onto as I pressed my frame as close to his as possible. My head to his heart as my eyes streamed hot tears down my face.

Wolfwood stilled to then heave a sigh of air. Vash moving to sit on the bed as Wolfwood grumbled out, "Another night terror... Damn..." Vash sighed to watch as I hiccupped and sobbed into Wolfwood's chest. That one flesh hand and artificial hand gathering my long hair to tie into a ponytail as Wolfwood adjusted us in the bed. His one hand soon tracing up and down my spine as he nestled his nose into the top of my head. Those fingers tracing over the fused metal and nanowires that had been part of that horrid time of experimentation and torture that would always haunt us. The plant sigils coursing dull light along my skin in a frantic pace that matched the thunder inside my ribcage. So Vash was soon laying down with us to have tossed aside his clothing. Warmth from his skin soaking into me to banish the cold as his comfort traced through my senses.

It took a minute before my trembling ceased. Yet I kept crying as Wolfwood nestled my head to his heart to grumble out, "When yer ready. Which of us was it this time? Me? Needle Noggin? Yourself?" I gave a hard sob as Vash hugged me from behind to all but cover me with his frame. My words so soft I almost couldn't hear them. "All of us... They made Vash watch... As they ripped out your insides to collect..." Both Vash and Wolfwood went rigid still for them to soon shiver at the mental images they conjured up. So Wolfwood grunted to hug Vash and myself closer. "Hence why I got protect tackled. Shit. Here I figured your night terrors would be of the Hell they put you through. The fusing you with Dependants as much as that nanomachine metal augmentation. But it's always terror for us over yourself. You take after Vash way too much in that regard."

Vash sighed with that same huff anytime anyone brought that particular subject up again to soon rub his nose to the back of my neck. His words washing comfort over me even as his tears fell. "In this moment, we are safe. Luida and Brad haven't said anything about any danger on the horizon. The other staff members are sure our defenses are in pristine operation. We are as safe as we could possibly be right now. Meryl and Roberto are in the next room. We don't have to leave for another two months. So rest, Obsidian. We're right here."

My nickname had me ease further into Wolfwood's body to hum a notation of love and warmth. While that thumping against my ear continued with such strength and life it had tears fall for other reasons. There was no cold or death or stained remains. There was heat and vigor and breath and roaring heartbeats of fierce will and thriving health. Not just within that cage of ribs I clung to. Through those ethereal threads woven towards me from Vash and his connecting to my senses I felt his own heartbeat thunder in my own ribs. A full symphony of beautiful love and comfort in breaths washing through frames and blood cascading through veins. Nerves alight like the starry canopies in the heavens to provide unto the living function and maintain sculpted frames.

I heard Vash clear his throat as Wolfwood got warmer to my touch. Since Vash had to clarify with words of his own. "You were muttering poetry again. Really fantastic poetry, mind you. But yeah. We love you too, Obsidian. But for now you should try very hard to go back to sleep. We have to do a lot tomorrow on top of seeing to your physical therapy sessions with the ship staff." So Vash laced my senses with the ease of dreaming and warmth to fog my mind over into the realm of rest. While Wolfwood shifted to flex his feet so the bones popped back into place before he grabbed at his pillow. The three of us soon asleep for us to stay in a hug pile as my adopted family and most loved souls kept me safe.

[aristaspark]

Ranking Winx Enchantix outfits

Disclaimer: Enchantix is literally the perfect transformation so keep in mind that even the ones at the bottom of the list are incredible. And of course it's only based on my taste.

6th place: Musa 🎶

I remember liking it much more when I was 6 years old honestly. I think the reason I like it so much is because I think red and yellow is a match made in heaven (and I loved her transformation sequence). I love her wings, they look EXPENSIVE and her hairstyle goes well with the look. The only reason she's last is because I think the skirt looks kinda weird and messy (it's even more appearant in 3D). I also think the shape for the top could have been better, but it's really just nitpicking she looks amazing I just had to put someone last 😂

5th: Tecna 💾

The first transformation where Tecna doesn't look like a space power ranger 🥹

The outfit is perfect, I love the overall shape of it and it was so refreshing seeing her have a pretty transformation. The colors all go well together (I love the colors in the 3D version) and the outfit is a perfect example of a feminine yet futuristic aesthetic. The wings are so cute, like, it suits her sooo much: simple but classy. The only thing I find horrid is her hairstyle, my girl deserved better (and the weird green thing in her hair is the final nail in the coffin honestly, it looks like a radioactive spider 😂).

4th: Aisha/Layla 🌊

This one was really tricky to rank for me because I'm soooo bitter the went with the green version instead of the blue one. The outfit is super cute and is pretty in both colors honestly but the green one is really just TOO green for my liking. And I much prefer the yellow gloves over the purple ones. In the green outfit there are not enough variations (not even worth mentioning the 3D version because for some reason I think the shades of colors they picked are an eyesore). But as I said, the outfit is still very pretty and her wings are freaking gorgeous, the shape, the size, the colors...they are perfect (they stand out so much more in the blue version). I love her little crown thing and her hairstyle is just so amazing. Everything just goes so well together. So if I forget about what it could have been... it still looks amazing so she deserves her spot.

3rd: Stella ☀️

I honestly didn't think much about her transformation when I was a kid, but looking back at it now, I think it does look amazing. I love the shades they picked in both the 2D and 3D version and the colors just go amazing together. The top and the skirt compliments eachothers perfectly and I love that they added a little touch of blue. And her butterfly wiiiiings, I think I don't need to say anything, they are big and dramatic, I love their shape, they look like they're made of gold and they just elevate the whole look.

2nd: Bloom 🔥

Ok, this one might be a little controversial because I'm under the impression that not a lot of people love this outfit (I could be wrong though). But I don't know, I just love her dress. I was always a sucker for ruffle dresses. I also live for the color gradation from blue to green, I just love it soooo much, it looks like crystal clear water. Also, it's worth mentioning that if I were to only take the 3D versions into consideration Bloom would EASILY rank first. BY A MILE. The colors ? The silhouette ? Hello ? It just looks so beautiful, magical,... Her transformation in 3D is just so beautiful to me. The hairstyle is amazing and refreshing since she really didn't have any in the first transformation. I do wish her wings were a little more dramatic or shaped differently, but they're still pretty. Really, the only thing I "dislike" is the ribbon on her neck which I always thought looked like pasta 😭 but I must say I kinda grew to like it 😂.

1st: Flora 🌺

I think nobody is surprised. When I think about it, for Flora it's not really about the dress. I mean, the dress is beautiful but it's the last thing catching my eyes. But THE WINGS ? THE HAIRSTYLE ? I can't even describe it. She looks so etheral, I had to put her first. She looks like a freaking goddess. And I remember when I was a kid, Flora was the first fairy I saw in her enchantix form in promotional pictures and I was just in awe. I was like 😲...Fairies are too pretty. She really looks like she came from a fairytail book.

[coemiisamess]

Things that ought to obey, think. And people that ought to give, take.

The theater is dark. The seats are empty. Why do you keep acting? Why do you insist on performing for an imaginary audience? Is it to satiate that hunger for the spotlight? Is it to escape from the monsters in your mind? Or perhaps you finally realized that it is futile to be vulnerable, lest your heart shatters into ash. So, you act. After all, you’re an entertainer at heart, so why not give them a show they won’t forget? Why would you risk exposing the horrid, rotten core of the truth when you can gift them the beauty of an illusion? How could you betray your audience with the pathetic reality of the self when you can simply be what you’ve always dreamed of becoming?

You wanted to be an artist. The brush strokes of your decisions would paint the canvas that is your life as you navigated the unknown with a fervor few could match. Inspiration came from everything you observed; you feverishly documented and scribbled and noted and doodled your way into masterpieces. There was never a dull moment in your life, your mind dominated by the wanderlust of an adventurer. You were the sun itself, shining with the blazing light of childhood and fond memories.

The candle that burns twice as fast, burns for half as long.

Like any kind of grief, it came gradually. A snide comment there, a flicker of doubt here. Piece by piece, your happiness was stolen by the very thing that you sought. That pursuit of perfection became a deity you worshiped, an impossible ideal that you believed you would one day reach. Alas, the higher you flew, the farther you fell into that abyss of despair. The more you dove into the past, the less the future mattered until the present violently crushed the hope that was keeping you going. Those drawings you made, those masterpieces you painted, were nothing compared to the vast void that you believed existed between perfection and mediocrity. 

So, you quit. You gave up on art, on life, and on the future. 

Your inner life became an apocalypse. A desolation worthy of the stage, and a boundless misery as mighty as a pen.

 You wanted to be a writer. The words you spoke were beautiful and were filled with the sweet aroma of kindness. The letters you authored would become the foundation of your thoughts. Diving into the arcane library of your mind was a favorite past-time of yours; you never shied away from delving into the depths of your psyche. To you, your imagination was the outlet in which you examined yourself, the mirror in which you studied your reflection. There was no harm in self-awareness, you thought. Surely, the more you knew yourself, the happier you would be.

My mind is a door. And inside it, an ocean.

Logic itself spiraled into oblivion as you cast aside your rationale and succumbed to your own thoughts. After so much introspection, so many days spent in solitude, the existence of other people twisted your self-perception into something that no longer resembled the girl you once were. You were like a spaceship on autopilot, navigating the outer space of life with no real destination. Conversations and days would blend and distort until you completely lost yourself in your head, existing but not really living.

So, you kept writing. It was the only thing that grounded you in reality when everything around you felt like a dream.

Your stories became memories worthy of remembering. A euphoria as high as the heavens, and an anguish as deep as the void.

You want to be an actress. These past selves, these characters, if you will, were simply the staircase in which you would make the grand ascension onto the stage. Why bother remembering, you think, if you can let go and fly on the winds of your performance?

The artist. The writer. The actress.  This triad of selves is not simply to be discarded. They are a part of you, a facet of yourself that you always run away from. Why do you? Why avoid the past? Why do you escape into art, but never face reality? 

You are me, and I am you. What you wanted was what I desired, and what I am is what you dreamed of becoming.

Please, don’t leave them behind. Every part of you, every little unique thing that makes up what you are, is beauty itself. Let the artist draw, let the writer pen, and let the actress perform. 

All of them can exist, and all of them can be true. 

Image is “Auditorium in the Old Burgtheater, Vienna” by Gustav Klimt

[ratatatastic]

paul dont say these kinds of things you know maffhews a teachers pet and is gonna will it to happen even if its inadvisable

[wingzie]

Brutally Honest Reactions to Jikook

It was requested on Twitter that I talk about the less positive posts about Jikook moments from my live reactions research. These will NOT include any screenshots, but I will discuss what I saw. I will continue to keep posting positive things about Jikook, but the fandom reaction towards Jikook is one of the reasons why I feel so strongly about supporting them so much. Please read ahead if you are interested. I will also keep it out of the Jikook tag.

I will quickly add my own experience here before I continue. I am an early 2019 ARMY. I didn't follow any BTS accounts on Twitter until after I caught up on content. I then started following Jikook accounts once I got braver, because I could see a clear difference in the way the fandom talked about them. (Or not at all in some cases.) It wasn't until I started following Jikook accounts, that I knew about GCF Tokyo. For a fandom that hyped up Jungkook being a director for LGO, his previous work and especially GCFT is rather ignored. Especially when it's obvious that Jungkook has always had an interest in making videos. 

GCFT

An important factor here is that GCFT was posted after Jimin's lovely twitter edit. From what I saw, no one had any real issues with Jimin's edit. The general consensus was that it was sweet that Jimin and Jungkook were finally able to go on a trip together and that Jimin made an edit out of it. But if that's the case, why were there then issues when GCFT was posted, that are still here today?

Compared to Jimin's edit, there is a clear sense of jealousy when GCFT was released. A "sweet trip" turned into a "not big deal" or started to include fake narratives. Some of which really confused me at first, until I asked someone at the time and got the truth. 

There is a sudden change of tone aimed towards Jikook: “How dare they go on a trip together?” and “how dare they share it with us this way?.”  It's clear to me that this jealously suddenly began because of the editing style, the camera shots and the song used. All of which made you feel a certain way when watching GCFT, if you were not so blind or bitter. However, the fandom did it's best to try to belittle JK's work. Saying excuses such as the song was not intentional or that the editing choices were coincidental. That's not the case at all and to quote a certain song "this is no coincidence."

There is an interesting notion that some shippers and y/n's turned to fan fictions after GCFT was released. This suggests to me that they did indeed in fact feel the same way about GCFT. They got the message loud and clear, but had to try to tune it out with another fantasy because of what they felt. They wanted what Jimin and Jungkook had for themselves or another member.

GCF's after GCFT

After GCFT there was a need to show: "look Jimin and Jungkook aren't that close." Which Jikook didn't get the memo of and it shows that people were keeping an eye on them. However, this was only to be able justify their negative thoughts about the possibility of two men being together. They couldn't stand the idea and came up with every excuse possible to deny it. There were a fair amount of “don’t assume their sexuality” posts floating around.

There was also a definite shift after GCFT with Jikooker’s themselves. Of course they were supportive, but much more discreet about it. Afterwards though ,and up through to today, they got louder about Jimin and Jungkook's bond. It's clear this reflects in the fandom perception of them together as a unit or just on the timeline itself. There is almost an annoyance whenever they show up.

The newer GCF’s turned more into a competition between the members. Something which sadly continued even with the Life Goes On MV. Rather than seen as a cute maknae trip in Osaka, GCFO was used as leverage against Jikook to prove that they weren't that close. Which is bizarre in itself and it was like Jimin wasn't in the video at all.

The outrage that sparked when GCFH was released showed the true hypocrisy of the fandom. Jungkook set the tone beautifully to match the Winter Package location of Helsinki. The fact so many quickly jumped on this, but ignored his skills previously is very telling. For all those yelling about appreciating Jungkook, they only yell when it's about making themselves feel better about something. 

Rose Bowl. I don't need to introduce this. However what I found interesting is that people outside of ARMY were more accepting of what happened than actual ARMY.  It also made me question what the definition of "ot7" is,  because these accounts were going around underneath posts with "stop shipping”, “they're just bros" or my most hated one "they do stuff like this in South Korea all the time."

The last one is an absolute hate of mine and is always used by NON Koreans. ARMY are often all about Korean culture until it's something they don't want to hear or know about. A general translation account has already pointed out that Jikook are extremely close due to lack of honorifics and it moe or less got ignored. Another account will mention the same , but for another unit, and it's worshiped to high heaven. Yet Jikooker’s are delusional for being the ones to understand the cultural significance of it?

Jungkook's Birthday in 2019

I am actually going to be calling out Jikooker’s here because the reverse happened this time. Others found Jimin’s Birthday video sweet, whereas Jikooker’s were being extremely rude and disrespectful ON the timeline towards Jimin about it. Plus the usual "Jikook broke up" malarkey that pops up twice a month happened. I only recently started researching this and I’m not even sure I can make a thread on it, because there was so much fighting on the Timeline about the Birthday video.

This is what spurred me on to write my twitter post about being careful about what you post and where your priorities lie. A lot of Jikooker’s were upset before Jimin posted. Not because "he hasn't posted.”, but because "he hasn't posted [for me]." 

This is something that Jikooker’s have to wrap their heads around. We only see a tiny percentage of their daily lives. They also have each other's phone number and see each other daily. They also know each other extremely well and probably better than any of us actually will. It is not up to us what they post or what we see. Do we miss them? Of course. However, to instantly start hating them for that is wrong. You're acting just like the fandom first did when GCFT came out. These same people also acted like nothing had happened as soon as Jimin posted the photo of Jungkook later on.

Seoul Final

For those that don't remember Rose, she was a k-army translator that went to Seoul Final. In one of her live shows afterwards, she explained how other Karmy were surprised by Jikook's closeness on stage. It wasn't just us.

However ,on Naver, there was a storm brewing about Jimin treating Jungkook inappropriately and the way they were acting on stage. This was first started by Jungkook akages and then spread around to some of the fandom who decided to jump in. 

This is one example of people using K-army as a weapon. That they know *best* when they suffer the same on their side with solos etc... It's also another example of the hatred towards Jimin. 

This isn't something new. Shipping was fairly peaceful and kept its original definition of wanting two people to be together. Even if this did include two real people. It wasn't until the definition of shipping morphed into something new and possibly real, that things started to erupt in the fandom. And this eruption was sadly placed onto Jimin, as people saw him as a disruption to their fantasies. 

This defamation of both Jimin and Jungkook's character from the fandom has been present since the beginning. They are seen as liars or not intelligent. That their closeness is fake, even though you can clearly see it from the start and then develop over the years. It's something that has always been beautiful to witness whilst watching, old content and new.

These examples of fandom reactions I have used are ones all related to expectations. If Jimin and Jungkook do not act as expected or they shock the fandom, one side will react negatively. The fandom also do not seem to like seeing Jikook be so loud, so to speak. And with the emergence of more Jikooker’s on social media, this horrid view of them will no doubt increase  Though many hate the term Jikook. It signifies the unit of Jimin and Jungkook and no matter what, they will do what they want too and continue to do so. Thank you for reading and feel free to ask questions if you have any!

[thevindicativevordan]

We know Batman Beyond is a great Spider-Man cartoon, but is it a better Spider-Man cartoon than Spectacular Spider-Man?

Ashamed to admit that when I was first exposed to Spectacular Spider-Man, I didn't like it because of the art style. It took me going back and rewatching it as an adult to really appreciate how good that show was, with the simpler animation style allowing for much more fluidity in the action scenes, along with Spidey getting to actually throw punches unlike the 90s cartoon.

This show feels like the last great Spider-Man adaptation to primarily draw on the 616 source material rather than the Ultimate Spider-Man comics (although those definitely influenced the show as well). My favorite part was the development of MJ copying her arc in the 616 comics. MJ starts out as a party girl and slowly matures over time just like her comics incarnation, as opposed to all the other adaptions of her skipping over that character growth to just pair her and Peter together immediately. Peter himself is great, Josh Keaton would be my default "voice" for Peter if I hadn't already been raised on Christopher Barnes, and I liked how the show wasn't afraid to remind you that Peter could be a real asshole at times. Spectacular Gwen Stacy was the best incarnation of the character because it was the only one to ever give Gwen a personality or anything resembling growth until ITSV Gwen came along. Real shame we never got to see her and Peter together for an entire season because I really wanted to watch how Weisman would portray their romance and how it would end given he's said MJ was endgame.

But the real standout has to be the villains. Weisman's need to tie everything together actually works out well here because the show is focused on crime in a single city rather than an entire universe. Most of the supervillains are connected to Osborn or Tombstone in some way, because the villains are necessary to keep Spider-Man distracted. Doc Ock in this show was fantastic, I'd bet anything that the Insominac version looked to this take as a model, because seeing him go from sniveling sycophant to psychopath was masterfully done. Eddie Brock was the dark reflection of Peter Parker here that the comics have wanted him to be but never successfully pulled off. And of course this show's take on Norman Osborn/Green Goblin was perfect, Weisman and Osborn are a match made in heaven. If there's anyone besides Lex Luthor who can be the vehicle for Weisman's love of villains leaning back in their chairs and going Just As Planned! after the hero deals them a major setback, it's the guy who orchestrated the Clone Saga.

Damn shame this is one Weisman show that has zero chance of ever coming back. Sony's post Raimi movies were terrible but if this show had gotten to continue I would have happily taken it over the MCU movies. Ah well, what could have been right? Perhaps that upcoming MCU cartoon will look to this rather than it's horrid successors for inspiration.

(And much as I like Batman Beyond nah, it's not the better animated Spider-Man cartoon).

[fallingforthedivine]

vulnerability.

Bakugo Katsuki x {gender neutral}reader.

It was safe to say the Bakugo Katsuki hated being vulnerable. Vulnerability is weak. Vulnerability isn't something for him. It would be something for 'that damned nerd Deku' but no never him. Although apart of him craved it. Craved love in a pure manner. Someone near him to make him feel alright, did that make him a coward? To you, he wasn't a coward. In fact the name Bakugo Katsuki meant 'strong' and 'human' in your personal dictionary. Yet he wouldn't except this, he couldn't. In his mind you weren't kidnapped, you weren't weak, you had an amazing quirk and kind personality. If only he could see himself the way you saw him.

His fear of vulnerability led him to isolation. From his best friend and dear partner, you. Yet tonight was different. Whilst nightmares were a common guest in the parlour of his dormant mind, they never were this vivid and painful. This one held failure, anguish, loss and reality. The reality that he may never be enough, never number one hero and never the only love you will hold.

This horrid dream led him to where he was currently stood. At 03:07am outside your dorm room seeing the blue light leaking from the closed door. He knocked a got no immediate reply. And so to avoid anyone else being woken up on your dorm floor he tried opening your door, it opened.

He saw your sleeping figure laying on your bed, you were truly beautiful. He hesitated in walking towards you but closing the door he went over. A firm hand gripped your shoulder and lightly shook you awake. Your heavy eyes opened to see your lover above you, not sitting on your bed but the floor next to it. His eyes were as heavy as yours and his lips a line that fell slightly.

You wordlessly opened your blanket to welcome him in, he hesitated then delved in. His arms found purchase on your waist and his red eyes, illuminated by the blue light in your room fell into yours. His head sat in the crook of your neck and you felt his breath hitch.

He'd never done this before but is was welcomed. Your collarbones became slightly wet due to his tears and you silently but your hand in his blonde hair. It always surprised you how soft it was.

After a while he asked you " why was your door open?"

"In case you ever needed me."

He fell silent again but you didn't miss the tightening of his arms around your waist. His legs moulded with yours. Maybe being vulnerable wasn't as bad as it felt at first. His meaning of vulnerable is honestly quite strange at first he didn't want to hold your hand in fear of people recognising his love and taking it to be a weakness.

If anyone had caught Katsuki in this position only god knows what he would've done. Vulnerability wasn't welcome publicly for him and it may never be. But in these midnight moments with you, where he feels safe and loved, he would always be vulnerable.

Vulnerability is never a weakness. And you made it a private goal to make sure he remembers that. From keeping the door unlocked to keeping a blue led light on anything to welcome him.

"Sleep well..." he muttered into your shoulder, only for the poets to hear. You didn't respond, you didn't need to. You just tightened your hold on him. Refusing to let go. For hell and heaven couldn't separate you. Your breathing matched up and into a dreamless sleep the two of you fell. When Katsuki woke before you he wouldn't wake you rather stare at your features in all your beautiful glory and take this private moment to hold the only person who has ever truly loved him.

authors note: sorry i was gone for so long lol. get ready for more fics like this from bnha and other animes like haikyuu, demon slayer and jjk. Lots of love and adoration from Em and Katsuki. x

[forgottenstarlightwishes]

Warbie groaned with uncertainty as he hid in a bush. People in the main garden. People by the gazebo. People by the pond. People by tents. People by the stairs. Where was Lady Phenix? And how was he suppose to give her back her ring

Perhaps it would be best to just to scout her out, keep an eye on her, then follow her until the party was over? Yes. That sounded like a plan. It was a plan, but...was it a good plan? He didn't know.

You were never trained in the art of war or tactical reconnaissance! Only basic scouting!

He looked more, studying the attendees. Were these all Goetia?! They were so many. They all had a look to them that reminded him of the seraphim's second form, except not as many eyes.

He scanned lower. He saw a few taller wolfish demons, dressed in an outfit that screamed security and Warbie couldn't help but tremble at the thought of being snatched between the jaws of one. What a horrid image! He had been chased by a number of the 'goodest bois and baby girls ' and those hounds seemed even scarier!

Hold on....

What were they? They were a creature that he had never seen before. Horns, red skin, long thick tails and hooves. Some short. Some tall. The horn variety was large and they moved effortlessly among the nobility.

Are those...imps? They look different from my books.

But some of them were almost his size. They all had a similar uniform. And the Goetia were mostly avian... He dropped a fist into a palm. He had an idea!

He inhaled and closed his eyes imagining the outfit and form he would have to take. Flipping through memories of outfits and trends in Heaven and Earth. He reached into a wing and pucked a feather. Clasped it between his hands until he felt the prickling of magic being imbued into it. He took his feather and tapped his hat, top and brown trousers. A formal black color and fabric spread across his hat, his vest turned into a dark waistcoat to match the imps and his shirt turned crisp and pressed, even his trousers evened out into a pair of well fitting dress pants. And last but not least a fresh pair of frames with a librarians chain with tiny stars.

There! With any luck, I should be able to either blend in with the help or perhaps dodge the looks of the other avian elites...maybe. Hopefully. Oh! An opening!

He made one last look and made a mad dash to the next set of floral arrangements.

She smiled a little at the quote. "I find that to be very true, Mister Warbie. Time heals wounds but it also hardens and scars them. I feel I carry her with me all the time" Phenix gently touched the locket ring on her finger, "I still feel like what you do is important. You inspire hope and having hope is a very powerful thing. And someone has to inspire that".

She cocked her head, one of her ear tufts twitching. Someone was calling her. Suddenly phenix became very alert.

"You have to hide, Mister Warbie...my husband, Andras, he isn't so kind as me and I'd hate for you to get hurt-".

"Phenix! Where are you?!" A loud, rather snobbish, sophisticated man's voice called out.

She didn't answer at first turning to her new little friend. "Whatever you see, whatever you hear, don't expose yourself, don't play the hero. He has an angelic weapon and Andras will not hesitate to use it. I'll be fine, I promise. Hes...done a lot to me. I can take it-".

"Phenix!".

"I'm on my way back! I just needed some air, dearest" Phenix didn't want to draw too much attention to the cherub.

[dottielovegood]

ASMR

Elriel Fanfic. Read here on AO3

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

I was thinking about Elain's gift to Azriel for Solstice and how she would help him sleep if they were just regular people in our modern-day world. And thus, this chapter was born. I haven't really decided if this will just be a one shot or if I will continue with a few more chapters. Please tell me if you want more.

------------------------

Azriel couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t a new occurrence. Sleep rarely found him, and when it did, it was tainted by nightmares. Ever since his childhood, sleep had been a battle. Other people talked about how much they loved sleeping, and how they might spend an entire weekend in bed, just sleeping. Azriel always nodded when he heard people say such things, but he never understood them. If he could, Azriel would skip sleep altogether. If he could, he would just keep going without rest.

But to his dismay, his body did not agree. It needed sleep. His traitorous body needed the thing he hated the most. This had led to Azriel trying anything and everything to fall asleep. He had tried working out for hours before bed. He had tried tea that was supposed to make you sleepy. He had tried calming music and meditation. Nothing had worked. He still woke up after an hour, covered in sweat. When he had become really desperate, he had tried medication (which made him feel like a zombie the next day) and weed (he hated it. It made him feel sick.)

He had almost given up at this point. He was in his late twenties and had come to accept his fate as an insomniac with horrid nightmares.

But maybe his fate would change tonight?

It was in the middle of the night and Azriel was browsing Youtube, as he so often did. He had started with an interview of one of his favorite musicians, and then he had clicked on a recommended video, and all of a sudden he was down the rabbit hole. He was just about to give up when he found himself watching a video about how to grow a micro garden (he had no interest in micro gardens, so he had no idea how he ended up there). He was just about to click off when a thumbnail of a different video caught his eye.

The small picture showed him a young woman in a lilac top. Her hair was the color of dark honey and she had some small freckles across her nose. But it was her eyes that drew him in. They were a light brown color, and he would probably describe them as doe-eyes. Big and beautiful and innocent. And kind. She looked so kind.

He clicked the video without reading the title. He needed to see more of this girl.

The video started with her sitting very close to the camera. There was a microphone in front of her and she leaned in close and whispered “Hello my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies. Welcome back to my channel.” The girl paused and moved her hands in front of the camera. “Tonight’s video will be personal attention and hand movements.” Her voice was soft, almost angelic.

He didn’t know what he expected to see when he clicked the video, but it wasn’t this. Azriel had no idea what he was watching, but he couldn’t stop.

The girl on the video picked up a hairbrush and started tapping the back of it with her nails. “I am going to brush your hair,” she whispered into the microphone, and Azriel could feel himself relax as she started to move the brush in front of the camera. She had added a background sound that actually made it sound as if she was brushing someone’s hair. “Does that feel good?” she asked into the microphone. Her eyes never left the camera and it felt as if she was staring into Azriel’s soul. She continued the brushing while whispering affirmations into the microphone. Azriel felt a tingling sensation that started in his neck and traveled down his back. He had no idea what this girl was doing to him, but he wanted more. He glanced at the channel name: Flower Girl ASMR.

He made a mental note to google what ASMR was when the video was finished.

He did feel a bit weird watching this though. He was just watching this girl whisper sweet things into her microphone, and it felt as if she was whispering them into his ears. She had finished the brushing and was now giving him a face massage. He knew that it was weird. He knew that his friends would laugh their asses off if they found out that he had been watching this video. Luckily, they would never find out.

Flower Girl ASMR moved her hands slowly in front of the camera in small circular motions. She smiled gently at the camera and he could feel himself smile back. He actually smiled at his phone. God, what was this video? Witchcraft?

“If you like my content, you can subscribe to my Patreon,” she whispered halfway through the video. “For only five, five, five dollars a month, you get access to hundreds of videos, and I post five new videos every week that are exclusive to my patreons.”

Never in his life had Azriel wanted to subscribe to someone’s Patreon, but he could make an exception for this girl.

While having her soft voice in his ears, he decided to scroll the comments.

Most of the comments were nice enough, telling her that she made them feel relaxed and helped them sleep. Was that what she did? Did she help people sleep?

Azriel didn’t really believe that anyone could help him at this point, but he had to admit that he did feel relaxed.

He continued scrolling, and almost wished he hadn’t. Among all of the sweet comments, there were some assholes that made his blood boil.

HybernCoolKid 4 days ago Pretty girl, but you could show more boobs. N00ds on patreon? OF?

Amarantha_utm 7 days ago Boring af

LucienV   6 days ago Just subscribed to your patreon! I love watching you every night when I fall asleep. I always wish that I will dream about you <3 ily

LucienV 5 days ago You are so pretty. Can you please make a video with kissing sounds?

MortalGraysen 4 days ago People only subscribe to you bc you’re pretty. I mean ngl I only watch your videos to look at that pretty face while I jerk off.

Azriel curled his hands into fists to keep himself from replying to every single weird comment on this video. Didn’t she moderate her comments? She could easily block words from appearing in her comment section. Why didn’t she?

The internet was full of creeps, which he was well aware of since he worked in IT. He had moderated many comment sections in his life, and people never ceased to surprise and disgust him. But he couldn’t understand why people would comment such things on this lovely girl’s video. She was obviously just trying to help people.

He shook his head in disbelief and clicked away from the comments.

The video soon ended, and another one started automatically.

In this video, the pretty girl was sitting in front of a wall covered in flowers. The microphone was still in front of her and she was using a make-up brush on the microphone. It made a swooshing sound, and Azriel could feel that tingling sensation again. He put his phone on his chest and relaxed on his bed. The swooshing sound of the brush combined with her sweet whispers made his entire body feel good. He thought to himself that he should subscribe to her channel, but before he knew it, he was drifting off.

Slowly, he fell asleep and no nightmares plagued him that night.

Azriel jolted awake to the sound of his alarm. Sleepily, he found himself cradling his phone. His air pods had fallen out of his ears during the night and he found one under his pillow and the other one on the floor.

He was sleepy, but also...rested?

He couldn’t even remember what it felt like to sleep for hours without waking up to nightmares and anxiety. Was this what normal people felt like every day? No wonder they loved sleeping so much.

Azriel picked up his phone and walked out to his kitchen to make some breakfast. While he waited for the coffee machine to brew his coffee, he leaned against the counter and clicked the YouTube icon on his phone. He searched for “Flower Girl ASMR”. Video after video with her beautiful face appeared on his screen. He clicked on one of the videos he had watched last night and decided to leave a comment. He usually never left comments on videos, but there was just something about her…

Shadowsinger 3 minutes ago I have no idea what ASMR means, but this video put me to sleep last night. I can’t remember the last time I had hours of uninterrupted sleep. Thank you!

He then clicked the link to her Patreon and subscribed to her there. It will be the best five dollars a month ever spent , he thought to himself as he poured coffee into his favorite cup.

Today was going to be a good day, all thanks to Flower Girl ASMR.

[written-in-ash]

i feel like im gojng to regret this because your angst is one of the rawest and most emotional things ive ever read....but i cant resist:

“Did he leave you?”

“No.”

“Did you leave him.”

“No, love left us.”

A Horrid Cheat, A Beautiful Liar

Draco feels the humid air of the Ministry ballroom settle as the initial shock fades from his mind. A familiar numbness overtakes his body, leaving him feeling vulnerable and raw, the confining ropes of yearning squeezing his abused heart.

This was not the first time Draco had seen Harry after their 'unfortunate falling out,' as dubbed by the Prophet. Polite pleasantries had been exchanged at various Ministry functions — many of which Draco probably shouldn't have attended for the sake of his damaged ego — to keep up appearances.

Malfoys do not show emotions, his father's voice had echoed through his head. Malfoys do not lose, and Malfoys do not love.

So, he went to the events as a good little Malfoy should. He continued to hurt, and he continued to love.

Now, seeing Harry in his formal robes entering the gala with his red-headed first love dangling like a jewel from his arm, the ache begins to spread.

The constricting ropes latch themselves onto his lungs as Harry's beautiful smile, displaying his pure adoration, is tuned to Ginevra.

(A horrid cheat.)

Harry had broken up with Draco one month and seventeen days after Ginny had returned from her two-year-long stint in Italy, just like the Prophet had said he would.

Renewed hatred and venom directed at Draco could be found spread across the paper's front page once again. They were convinced that Draco was in the way of Harry's happiness and that Ginevra was the true owner of Harry's heart. Naturally, Harry had been outraged, but deep down, Draco knew they were right.

When the vitriolic speech and public violence confined Draco to their home, Harry recognized and admitted the inevitable.

After sitting Draco down and placing his favorite glass of scotch in front of him, Harry finally declared he was still in love with Ginevra. Despite their mutual split two years and seventeen days ago, Harry thought he could fill the empty void in his heart with Draco's presence. He couldn't.

Draco insisted that the love they shared was still whole. He promised that it was strong enough to they could move past this inconvenience. It wasn't.

Harry told Draco that he didn't love him. Not in the way he should.

In a fit of rage, betrayal clouding his fragmented mind, Draco called him a horrible cheat, a beautiful liar.

Harry's face crumbled, yet he did not deny the accusation as he traced the outline of the scar on the back of his hand. I must not tell lies.

And Harry didn't. Not in that respect, at least.

(A beautiful liar.)

Looking at them now dancing, movements tender and swift, Draco can see how Harry's eyes are a little brighter, his smile a little wider, and his laugh a little louder. Perhaps Draco was holding him back. Maybe Harry and Ginevra were just a match made in heaven, a love irreplaceable.

As the puddle of hope begins to pool beneath his heart, a rough voice by his side emerges and draws his attention.

Feeling simultaneously surprised and caught, Draco's walls immediately rise, an icy mask covering his features.

Glancing to his side, a tall, burly man watches the couple, brown eyes both piercing and incredibly light. His wavy brown hair is artfully tousled and falls to frame his lean face.

"An old flame?" he asks, French accent inquiring as he tips his glass of champagne towards Harry and Ginevra. His eyes are narrowed as if trying to work out the compatibility between the two. If he is, Draco can't help; he doesn't understand either.

"Something like that," Draco responds, voice flat and uninterested. He doesn't really want to talk about this with a stranger.

But Draco doesn't — no, can't — always get what he wants. It's a lesson he had learned the hard way as each person he loved was ripped away from him.

"Did you leave him?" The stranger asks, leaning back in his chair and take a long swig of champagne. Draco wants to slap him, the nosy bastard, but he reluctantly restrains himself.

"No." He would never have left Harry. He loves — loved Harry.

"Did he leave you?"

Draco takes a moment to answer, and his eyes slowly returning to Harry and Ginevra.

Draco painfully exhales as the ropes construct a little more, tugging his heart and compressing his lungs.

"No," Draco says slowly, cocking his head. The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them: "Love left us."

But the love didn't leave them, did it? After all, admitting an amicable mutual breakup is more manageable than pretending he wasn't still pining over lost love.

The man nods slowly and abruptly holds his hand in Draco's line of vision, obstructing his view of the couple.

"Care to dance?"

The man's lips are tugged into a charming yet lopsided smile and the challenge stands clear in his eyes. Surprisingly, Draco finds himself resistant to back down.

Slowly he nods, taking a step towards the man. And perhaps it could be a step towards the right direction, a step away from Harry.

With his back turned and the man's hand in his, Draco does not notice the evergreen fire drain from Harry's tired eyes, the weight of society's expectations weighing down on his shoulders. The ropes live in him, too, constricting and unrelenting.

For Draco, he could be a horrid cheat. For Draco, he would be a beautiful liar.

With a prompt like this you practically BEGGED for angst, my friend. Hope this lives up to your emotional tastes ���