#means that it was a good or at least successful book

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Two: The Heart Wants What it Wants

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter One - Chapter Three

Description: answers are few and far between, Sirius is in the trenches, and the Gryffindor quidditch team receives some good news

Word Count: 5.5k

You were never able to get much sleep, tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning. Just when you began to doze off, it seemed as though your mind forced you to remember the red and purple fish. Your half-sleeping imagination replayed the drop in your stomach when you finally discerned its meaning through the help of three separate books, and the confusion over the seemingly ambivalent fate which awaited you. While Lily did point out that Divination wasn’t a perfect science, you found that it always came true in one form or another. It would be possible to accept her suggestion if not for the aching feeling that had been building in your chest since midnight. 

As it started to grow light, you decided to give up on sleep. A pink and purple sunrise shown through your dormitory windows, the muntins breaking up the rays into little diamonds across the wooden floors. You dressed as quietly as you could, throwing on something halfway decent so you could go down to the Common Room and attempt to do something productive. You hauled with you your three Divination books, as well as your existing notes, setting them on one of the small tables. The fire was nearly out, only dimming embers remaining, so you threw on a few more logs. The howl of the wind blowing outside the tower whipped past the castle walls, skirting along the edges of the jagged stone. 

You opened up the large purple book, Crundlesmuck’s Lessons in Animal Divination , and flipped to the chapter on Ichthyomancy. Sifting through the pages, you tried to come across the passage you had read a thousand times over already, hoping that one more reading would provide further insight. You took a deep breath once you came upon it, preparing yourself for disappointment. 

“As the great Diviner Simon Bonk once professed, ‘...the lone fish may be like the wandering child in search of its mother, or, the snarling wolf in search of its next meal.’ Though Mr. Bonk is correct in his dual interpretation of the lone fish, one must not rely solely on numbers, but also colour, texture, smell, personality, aura, and accompaniment in order to truly make an accurate prediction. While the lone fish may very well represent the search for companionship, or the loss of it, if its colour is red or pink, the fortune could be of a romantic nature. However, if the lone red or pink fish was swimming south, the direction of the past, one may very well predict the subject of the future to run into a long lost sweetheart. Due north, however, may indicate the lone red fish's connections to a greater enemy, or the search for revenge which will soon be met. This would not be true if the fish were pink, of course, for such strong emotions are usually represented by the most saturated of colours. Further, if its scales reach the sunlight, reflecting into the viewer's eyes, this indicates a far more subdued outcome, or one which may come in the very near future. As you can see, a true diviner must combine all the necessary attributes in order to accurately use Ichthyomancy in their practice.”

“Merlin's beard,” you muttered to yourself, a hand coming to rub at your temples. It was all utterly nonsensical, at least to you. The chart on the side was no help, either. 

Red- Strong emotions such as love, hatred, anger, infatuation, resentment, etc., may include jealousy if paired with orange and blue. 

Pink- Lesser forms of love and other emotions, less influential than red.

Orange- Happiness and good fortune, strictly positive change.

Yellow- Confusion, frustration, a lack of knowledge.

Green- Jealousy, envy, greed, may indicate success in endeavors purposefully made or unintentional.  

Blue- Tranquility (though not necessarily without change), friendship, can indicate the natural world.

Purple- Power, tends to aid in the strength of other omens. 

Black- Death, change, dramatic shifts either positive or negative.

White- Purity, lack of change, consistency either positive, negative, or neutral, or its inverse in numbers of the double digits.

While you initially thought that the white fish had overridden the effects of the red and purple one, a whole school of them pointed more towards chaos than anything. No, you and Lily were correct; it was an awful omen indeed. Still, you closed Crundlesmuck’s Lessons in Animal Divination and opened another, hoping that someone could provide a more positive outlook on your situation. 

“White’s ability to have an opposite meaning should not be disregarded when analyzing omens, particularly when white appears nearby…” —The Unabridged Diary of the Late Seer Humphrey Holbert Sherbert Monty Jr., page 294

Surely, your third book could provide some answers. 

“...as Diviner Daisy Kettlebum professed one evening in her study in the spring of 1814, ‘red and purple may be one of the rarest pairings, yet the most powerful of them all’...We can see that the pairings of colours are most often more accurate indicators of fortune than the observation of a single colour.” —Colour Me Prophecy: A Witches and Wizards Guide to Colour in the Natural World, page 673

You wanted to rip your hair out, and you almost did until the portrait hole swung open. You checked the time, the clock on the wall reading five fifty-six. Students were not permitted outside the Common Room for another four minutes, although that seemed to not be an issue, for the portrait soon closed without a student emerging from it. Your eyes flashed towards your notes for a quick moment, catching your scribbled words: school of white + red and purple = bad! Your mind ran over a hundred scenarios of strange occurrences and awful happenings. Was the fruition of your omen about to ensue, a phantom which somehow got word of this week's password: Inepta Mustela?

You stood from your chair with a deep, shivering breath, walking around the table with careful steps. Nearing the portrait hole, hands slightly shaking, you craned your head around the corner. Without warning, James and Remus appeared suddenly from beneath the invisibility cloak, breaking out into a fit of unrestrained laughter. You gasped, clutching at your chest before catching up with the shock. You waited for them to stop their incessant giggling with your hands on your hips. 

“You gave me a heart attack!” you scolded, voice in a whisper. Neither took your same precautions, their volume rather loud for six in the morning. James wiped a tear from his eye as their laughter died down. Finally taking in their appearance, you saw that Remus was still wearing his pajama bottoms and a jumper, though James had the sense to at least throw on a pair of jeans. “What were you both doing out anyway? I thought you two were all buttoned up now, a Prefect and Head Boy.” You motioned to them, but Remus just rolled his eyes. 

“It was nothing too bad,” he said, dismissing your concerns. He threw himself down on the sofa, stretching his long legs out by the fire. You crossed your arms, staring at James with a disapproving press of your lips. He still had a smirk on his face and a blush across his cheeks from laughing. His expression practically forced you to smile. You shoved him as you walked back to your table. 

“What are you doing up?” James asked, taking a seat beside Remus. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” was all you said. 

James peered behind the couch at you, watching as you closed your books and piled up your work into a stack. “Is that for Divination?”

You glanced up, nearly smiling again at his head contorted in such a funny manner, tipped up and to the side. Remembering you hadn’t even looked in the mirror before you can down here, you hoped you didn’t appear too ghastly. You nodded at his question, taking the books into your arms and lugging them over to the area by the fireplace.  

“Yeah,” you finally answered, dropping them to the floor and sitting in one of the armchairs. “Figured I’d be productive rather than just tossing around till breakfast. I think I'm going to need more than three books, though.”

“We were productive as well,” James said with a grin.  

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

"Mhm,” Remus answered, tight-lipped. “Got an early morning snack from the kitchens.”

“Breakfasts only in an hour and a half, you couldn’t wait?” You chuckled as Remus shook his head rather forcefully, playing with the sleeves of his jumper. 

“The heart wants what it wants.”

You left Remus and James to start getting ready for breakfast, knowing that Lily would be up by now. Thankfully, she never asked any questions when you came back into the dormitory carrying your stack of books, clearly having been up for quite some time. Dorcas was snoring from within the thin confines of her four-poster. Like most nights, she’d forgotten to cast a silencing charm. She’d blame it on simple forgetfulness, you on her sugar-high. 

You were still ill at ease when you walked down to breakfast with Lily, very much looking forward to a cup of tea. Paying attention in class would be a difficult task, your thoughts muddled with an anxiety well beyond repair. If Lily noticed your nerves, she didn’t comment on them, chatting with you about a healing potion she was learning about in Alchemy instead. 

In stark contrast to your own inner turmoil, there was a distinct air of excitement in the Great Hall despite the early hour. At the center of the long table at the head of the room, Dumbledore looked on as he did every morning, twinkling eyes darting beneath his half-moon glasses. A few minutes later, Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary came, the Marauders not far behind. Mary was in the year below you all, and Dorcas had taken a liking to her meek manner, seeming to make her sole purpose in life to get Mary out of her shell. 

James and Remus looked rather tired as they wandered over to their seats. You smiled to yourself as they sat down, James laying his head on the table for a brief moment before he picked it back up again. He noticed you staring and narrowed his eyes, pushing up his glasses by its bridge. You smiled, shaking your head before returning your attention back to Dorcas. 

“Fueling up already?” you said, watching her take a bite of an apple turnover. 

She nodded, washing it down with some tea and swallowing with a single, large gulp. “I’ve got to be on my game for tomorrow. Can’t be letting those Hufflepuffs think we’re slacking.”

Hufflepuff won the quidditch House Cup last year and the entire Gryffindor team was committed to not letting it happen again. James in particular was quite serious about the matter, grabbing up any time on the pitch that he could manage. Monsieur Button, the flying instructor and referee, was growing increasingly tired of James standing outside of his office first thing every Monday morning, when the weekly practice schedules were made up. 

“That's right, Meadows,�� said James with the same eagerness. “All you better be thinking about from now until tomorrow morning is the Grumblesnad.”

“Don’t worry, Captain, it’s burned into my brain. I’ll be recalling your flight maneuvers on my deathbed.” 

James shook his head, stabbing his fork into his sausage rather violently. “No one respects their elders anymore.”

“You’re only a week older than me,” Dorcas said with her mouth half full. 

“You can build a lot of wisdom in a week,” Peter laughed. 

“And I’m older than all of you,” Sirius interjected. “So, by all rights, I should be your superior, James. Just going by your own logic.”

“Then we need better logic,” you added, Lily nodding in agreement. 

Through the large door, the daily influx of owls came sailing overhead and dropping off the post. Your owl swooped low, placing a copy of the Daily Prophet directly into your lap. You were undoing the ties when you heard Remus’s solemn voice from down the table. 

“Just wait till we get back from classes,” he said softly to Sirius, who was sitting beside him. 

Sirius’s eyes were cast down towards a letter in his hand. You saw the green wax seal and knew what lay inside. You lamented the fact his parents had to write him the day before a match. His once cheerful face had drooped, his color poor and drained. He let his long hair cover his face, not bothering to brush it back behind his ears. He slipped the letter into his bag and turned back to his friends, who were all motionless where they sat. You looked away as you saw James's expression of tribulation, sensing that watching any longer was an intrusion on a moment not meant for you to be privy to. 

You opened up the paper, reading the title of the front page article, inked in thick, dark letters: DARK MARK SEEN OVER STRING OF MUGGLE MURDERS. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Sirius’s mood continued throughout Charms. You had a clear view of him across the aisle, his sullen, gray eyes half lidded and distant as they stared out into space. Once in a while, they lifted as something Professor Flitwick said grabbed his attention, though they often unfocused. Periodically, Remus would whisper something to him, or James would give him a gentle nudge with a smile. Sometimes Sirius would respond, though mostly he looked as if he were all alone, ghost-like and listless. 

You gazed out of the large window behind Flitwick, watching the Forbidden Forest sway softly in the breeze. A few evergreens colored the mass of brown boughs and hefty trunks, though most of the brush remained drab. It was a dreary day out, typical for this time of year, but no less disappointing. As your gaze followed the treeline, you wondered what that bloody fish was doing right now. 

You weren’t sure if you were thankful or loathsome for the mid-morning break between classes. Some studying could serve as ample distraction, or just bore you into thinking about Divination. At least you didn’t have that today, leaving all weekend to avoid the subject if you so wished. You walked out of class with Lily, though she had to leave to go to Ancient Runes with Remus and Marlene. The rest of the boys were nowhere to be found, James and Sirius likely off to the quidditch pitch to get some practice in before tomorrow morning. Alone, you weasled through the crowd of students, passing through an array of corridors towards the Astronomy Tower. Usually, it was only open for classes, but being in the Astronomy Club had its perks. You hoped no one would be up there, though it would be strange in February.  The chill would be particularly nipping from high up in the tower, making it a far less appealing choice to hide out in than in autumn or spring. The temperature made no difference to you, however. You just wanted to be alone, and maybe smoke a cigarette or two.  

You sat up against the wall, your red and gold scarf sitting just below your mouth. Your Transfiguration book was opened in your lap, a piece of parchment laying on one of the pages. A cigarette hung from your lips, burned all the way to the filter. You were taking notes on advanced forms of Transfiguration, cursing McGonagall for making you learn how to create an object from thin air by the end of term. Deep in concentration, you nearly missed a single crow fly by the tower a few times before landing on the railing. When it shifted its position, you caught the black blur in your peripheral, eyes coming up to meet it. Black and beady, they stared, unwavering and with an eerily human conviction. You continued to stare, transfixed by its commanding presence against the gray sky. After a few moments it made a single, harsh call before lifting up in flight, swooping down along the tower and out of sight. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You slammed your book shut, shoving everything in your bag and stomping out of the tower, feet hitting heavy against the steps. You were huffing to yourself, muttering curses at the crow as you continued down the hall. The idea that you were truly going mad crossed your mind as you noticed a few odd glances from other students loitering in the halls. You were well aware many would have already been calling you such if they knew you were putting even a single ounce of belief in Divination. However, it all was beginning to seem undeniable now. Something bad was bound to occur, a twisting pit growing in your stomach as you thought this fact over. You ran through every possibility: death, destruction, war, famine, but it all seemed equally plausible. 

You mindlessly paced, fogged with a thousand contradicting explanations, the web spinning into something far more complicated than you were prepared to handle. Lost in your rumination, you hadn’t noticed you were walking straight into someone until you stumbled backward, nearly falling before an arm caught yours just in time. You looked up to see Sirius standing above you, a small smile beginning to form on his face. 

“A little spacey this morning, I see,” he joked, pulling you back up to standing. You let out a short breath from your nose, straightening out your robes. 

“Yeah, you could say that.” You didn’t intend to sound so snappy, frowning a bit as you saw the look upon his face and remembering what had transpired over breakfast. You considered the fact that he wasn’t at the pitch with James. If anything could clear his head, it’d be a low stakes training session. “I’m sorry, Sirius. I’ve just had a bad day is all.”

“That makes two of us,” he said, glancing down at his shoes for a moment. 

“Yeah,” you began, not knowing if you should bring up what happened over breakfast. You reasoned that you had each known each other for long enough to not have to dance around the issue, at least not anymore. You knew enough about his family and his stay with the Potters to put the pieces together yourself; and you could be sure that he knew that you knew, making the whole mystery of it rather pointless. You licked your lips, unsure how to carry yourself as you spoke, “I saw that you got something from your parents.”

He nodded, eyes as distant as they were in Charms. He had not tensed up or retreated, demeanor very much unchanged. “I still haven’t opened it. I think I’m gonna wait till Sunday.”

“That's a good idea,” you said. “Why let them spoil the whole weekend.”

You wondered why he planned on opening it at all. If it were you, you’d throw it into the Common Room hearth and be done with it. However, you decided not to voice this opinion, feeling it quite out of your place. 

“Knowing them, they did it on purpose. Reg probably told ‘em we had a match or something.” He let out a breathy laugh with little humor behind it. “What’s got you so distracted?”

You sighed, not quite knowing what to say or how much to reveal. “Nothing, just Divination. I’ll get over it.”

“Find out anything more?”

You shook your head. You knew you ought to return the favor; vulnerability for vulnerability, but you didn't want to put it on him right now. Sirius wandered over to the wall, zigzagging around until he leaned against it. With his legs outstretched, his gray uniform pants rose up above his ankles, revealing two different colored socks, white and navy blue. You eyed them with a mild amusement, following him over and leaning against the wall a few paces away. You both stared out of the wavy window glass silently, each stewing in your own unfavorable situations. You found yourself looking towards him, studying his profile that you had seen a million times before. 

You wondered why you didn’t like Sirius but were so absurdly smitten with James. You thought it might be easier to like Sirius, who you knew would agitate you far too much to seriously date. It would be easy to put him on a shelf, to throw the hope away. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You rolled your eyes to hide your embarrassment, turning away. Now he was the one staring at you, his gaze dragging across your cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Sirius,” you said, voice quiet. You didn’t see his brows knit or his eyes grow soft, continuing on with your apology, “I know I’m not what you need right now. I feel silly moping about because of Divinations of all things.”

“It’s all right,” he began, kicking off the wall to face you. “If it’s any consolation, I think the whole things rubbish. Who cares what color the fish are?”

“It’s how many, too,” you said between a faint laugh.

He was standing a ways in front of you now, shifting his weight between his feet. “It’s all random. No need to worry yourself into a fit over it.”

Your face was blank, nodding without really believing him. He walked backwards a few steps, hands stuffed into the pockets of his robe. 

“I’ll see you later, hot stuff,” he said, spinning around to walk properly. “And don’t use that head of yours too much!” 

You watched him go, not saying anything in return. You felt awful for him right now, far more so than you did for yourself. While you disagreed with him on the legitimacy of Divination, he was right about one thing: it was silly to worry this much about a project for class. You were forgetting one of the biggest aspects of Divination, that the future can always change. A prophecy is one thing, but you were no Seer. Simply reading a fortune through any means wasn’t enough to solidify a specific outcome. You had time to change the direction of the future, the only problem being you didn’t have the slightest idea what to change. 

It wasn’t like when Professor Quattlebaum told you that you’d get soaking wet by the end of the day in fourth year. Then, you had just brought an umbrella with you. However, now that you got to thinking of it, your efforts then had been in vain. All day you had carried it with you, pleased when you and Lily were shielded from a surprise rain shower halfway through your walk about the grounds. Only, as you each headed back inside the castle, umbrella lowered, a duel between two seventh years broke out in the corridor. One had cast Aguamenti at his opponent, missing him entirely and soaking you to the bone. At least the arsehole got detention for it. You had trudged back to the Common Room, robes dripping and heavy, debating if you should go back to Quattlebaum’s office and give him a piece of your mind. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You were walking to the Great Hall with Peter for lunch, each just having left from History of Magic. Like Divination, only you and he were still taking the class. Unfortunately, Peter was not as enthusiastic about the subject as you were. You and he were packed like sardines in the hallways, breaking through the bottleneck just as James, without warning, came bounding up behind you. He practically ran into your back before stepping in stride to your left. He buzzed as if a gleeful charge was running through him from his toes to the tip of his nose. The three of you stopped walking, forcing a few grumbling students to move past your huddle. 

“You’re chipper,” you commented, laughing as he shrugged. He was always hyper, but this was a bit extreme even for him. Lily, Remus, and Marlene soon caught up to you, their faces all bearing the same sly grin. You gave him an odd glance, looking between him and the others. 

“Excited for the match?” asked Peter. James shrugged again, a smile still on his face.

“That's part of it,” he said, bouncing a bit on his toes. Lily shook her head at him.

“Come on,” you begged the others. “What?”

“Daniel told me he heard from Caelum Waterson, who's a fifth year Hufflepuff, that Corey Luxfire’s in the Hospital Wing with a wicked spout of dragon pox,” James explained excitedly. Corey Luxfire was the best beater on the Hufflepuff team and the likeliest reason Gryffindor would have to lose. He was also a rather talented painter, head of the Hufflepuff Art Club.

“That's excellent!” you began. “Oh, but not for Corey.”

“Screw Corey,” Peter said happily. “He’ll recover– eventually.” 

Lily tsked, Marlene laughing at Corey’s ill fated sickness. 

“I’ll send him some flowers,” James assured, head poking towards yours. “Would that appease you?”

You pretended to think it over for a moment, hand on your chin in contemplation. “Yes, it would.”

James smiled, placing a heavy arm behind your neck, his hand placed upon your right shoulder. You hoped he’d take it off before his fingertips nearly burned five small holes through your jumper. You couldn’t bear for Lily to see you like this, as she was the last person in the whole world, besides James, that you wanted to know about your stupid infatuation. He tugged at you a bit, trying to get you to look at him again.

“What?”  

“Nothing,” he said after a beat, dropping his hand away with a laugh. 

“You’re very odd today.” You side-eyed him, wondering if he was planning on pranking you or something of the sort, especially after his joy at seeing you jump out of your skin this morning.

“What else is new,” Remus said, smiling to himself. James glared at him before turning back to you. 

“Just trying to cheer you up,” he said. You gave him a small, kind smile, appreciating the gesture. 

As you rounded the corner, Dorcas and Mary were revealed to be sitting on the stone lip along one of the walls. Dorcas left Mary with a short word of goodbye upon seeing your group, running up happily to James with the same buzz. 

“Did you hear–?”

“Yep, Daniel just told me,” James answered, not letting her finish. Dorcas practically jumped up and down, beginning to walk backwards in front of you down the corridor. You heard Marlene’s distinctly girlish giggle beside Lily. 

“They’ve got no chance without him,” Dorcas said with a wolfish grin. “Last year he took me out for good, the bloody knobsnarker. It was the only reason we lost. And he gave me a bruise the size of a melon. But the whole team's rubbish except for Corey.”

James hummed, head bobbing from side to side. “Poppy’s not too bad of a seeker.”

“She’s no match for me, though. We’ve got it in the bag tomorrow.” Dorcas smirked, turning on her heels and butting her way between you and James. She threw an arm around your shoulders just as James had, glancing down at you with a pestering look in her eyes. “You’ve got to promise me you’ll get good and drunk tomorrow night after I win.”  

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know, no promises. Maybe if Sirius makes that potion…even then you’ll have to bribe me.” Sirius made the best hangover cure in all of Hogwarts, but it was a pain in the arse and took forever to brew. You practically had to beg him to give you some every time you needed it, and that only worked about half the time. He had the tendency to hoard it for the especially bad mornings and would only give it up if you were on your deathbed.

“I’ll steal some for you,” James offered. “I know where his stash is.”

“He might have charmed it. You know how protective he is over the stuff,” you remind him, though James didn’t seem to consider that enough of a deterrent. “Where is he, anyway?”

James, Remus, and Peter stalled for a moment, Remus speaking up first, “I don’t know. He said he’d meet James at the pitch, but he never showed.”

You were just about to tell them you saw him in the hall, but Peter interrupted. 

“He’s probably off snogging Seraphina ,” he drawled, her name spoken like a curse. James groaned, a disgusted look upon his face. 

“She seems nice enough,” said Lily in her defense. 

“And a drag,” James countered. “Even you’re more fun than she is.”

Lily scoffed at the comparison. “You’re a real tosser, you know that?”

“Here we go,” said Remus.

You snickered, sharing a glance with Marlene. No wonder they broke up , said her eyes. At least they're still friends , yours replied.

“I will have you know that I am loads of fun, right Marls?” Lily asked, turning to her friend. Marlene nodded quickly, raising her chin at James. 

“Yes, she is, Potter. Wizards chess and extracurricular academic reading are very exciting and quite the riot!” 

You started laughing along with the others, though Lily remained straight faced. You didn’t notice her winding up for a sucker punch until it was too late. 

“Yeah, and Y/N is too. We all know how much the Astronomy Club helps you wind down and let loose.”

James howled, as did Dorcas, whose arm grew a bit tighter round your shoulders. You shoved it off, scoffing as Peter continued to snort. You ought to have called them all nerds, as Lily and James consistently got better marks than you, and your grades were on par with Remus and Marlene’s, but you decided to let it slide. A good jab was a good jab.  

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

After the double period of DADA, everyone was done with classes for the day, all light on their feet as the weekend neared its beginning. You and Lily we set to go to the library like you did most Friday’s after class, trying to convince Dorcas to come along. 

“It’ll be fun,” Lily begged, moving out of the way for some other students to pass. Dorcas shook her head, looking back at James and Sirius who were itching to leave. It was most certainly not Dorcas's idea of fun to spend an afternoon at the library of all places, though Lily never ceased her efforts. You swore you’d only seen Dorcas there once or twice during your entire stint at Hogwarts. 

“I’m going to the pitch, you wanker. Potter'll kill me if I don’t!” She looked back at the Marauders, James waving her on anxiously. He hopped up a few times in the air, his movements increasing in their intensity. 

Lily's hands came to her hips, peering over Dorcas’s shoulder at James. He had turned back to the others, still antsy, but listening to something Remus was saying. 

“Potter!” Lily shouted. James turned quickly, his tie undone and swinging onto one shoulder. “Can’t you spare Dorcas for an hour?” 

James sighed, eyes rolling back as he slouched forward. “No, Evans , I can’t! We just barely got the time away from the Hufflepuffs!” He glanced between you and Lily before piping up again, “Wanna come and watch?” 

Lily scoffed. “You’re sounding more and more like Sirius these days.”

James shrugged with a teasing grin, looking towards you. “Come on, don’t you wanna see your best mate in action?” He moved around like he was on a broom before adjusting the bag slung across his shoulder. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the match,” you reminded him. “And who says you’re my best mate?”

Sirius smiled a genuine, full smile, and it made you happy to know your insult towards James is what did it. Remus made a pained face as if he had just watched James fall from his imaginary broom. 

“ Uh! ” James gasped, taking a few heavy steps closer. “I said you’re my new favorite, does that mean anything to you?”

Godric, why does he have to do this? You really wished this little schtick could end so you could go back to pretending James didn’t even like you all that much.

“You both can fight about it later,” said Lily, linking your arms. “We’ve got to nab the good tables before the first years hog them.”

“Have fun,” Dorcas said with a wave, walking towards Sirius. James stood and shook his head at you. 

“I’ll see you!” you called to no one in particular. Lily dropped your arm and you both began to speed walk towards the library. Halfway there you could feel her staring at you through the corner of your eye. You sighed, glancing over. She had an odd, uncharacteristic smirk upon her face. You didn’t know whether you should be frightened or not. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said, her skirt dancing to and fro as she walked.

Chapter Three

[depresseddepot]

daydreamed about embroidery all day, played animal crossing, had a little peach beverage, and then finished tender is the flesh by agustina bazterrica. what whiplash

[cockworkangels]

honestly i do have to say i actually was happy with the ending in a way that i wasn't expecting a satisfying ending bc every other supposed ending point of the series i didn't really find satisfying but an actual answer to the central theme of the series for real this time yippee and so on! like lestat actually being able to find meaning in his own immortality and fulfillment in his need for recognition in the community of vampires he was instrumental in creating and actually like yeah sure i'll take that

[transvampireboyfriend]

everyday i see usamericans giving way too much credit to their government agencies. people don't stop being idiots because they work for a government, assume incompetence

[alpaca-clouds]

Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

[emberwhite]

I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!

I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.

I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.

Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.

But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.

This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.

But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.

I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.

Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.

[orionsangel86]

I watched X-Men 2000 tonight. Yup the Deadpool and Wolverine brain worms got me - at least for a little while - so I figured I'd rewatch the old movies that I havent seen in over a decade and have basically forgotten entirely at this point.

You know what really stunned me? Even more than the slow pace, serious tone, actual dedication to telling a coherent and interesting story with layers of meaning and social commentary attached to it, as well as a sincerity that's been missing from most superhero films since the MCU was born (thanks Josh Whedon).

Nope, what shocked me most was this:

This is a perfect specimen of a man. Look at him. He's gorgeous. But look at his chest? His arms? He's muscular, he's pretty well toned, he's hairy. He's definitely got a six pack - but it's nicely covered by a healthy layer of fat. His skin is plump, he has a bit of squish to him. He'd probably be great to hug (Jean Grey certainly gives him a good squeeze lol).

When he sits down he looks like his stomach will roll just nicely. Like a stomach should.

I know my point here is obvious. It's just that scrolling the Deadpool and Wolvering tag is basically 50% "oh they definitely fucked in the Honda Odyssey" (yes lol) and the other 50% is just horny posting over Wolverine's topless scene like the entire site suddenly adopted Deadpools horny brain.

I gotta give props to Hugh Jackman for his dedication to turn himself into an actual comic book character - because that's what this new movie does. It gives us a comic accurate Wolverine in practically every way (except for his height lol) the suit is amazing, the cowl was a joy to see brought into live action. The body too though was straight out of a comic book artists male power fantasy.

What I wanted to emphasise was that this:

Is extremely tough on the human body. What I wanna know is how long he starved and dehydrated himself for before filming this scene? How long before they shot this did he last drink some water? Because damn that must have been tough. The oil and the lighting probably help further emphasise the muscle, vein, and sinew definition. It's probably similar to how body builders prepare before a show.

Nothing about body building is healthy though. So in the coming weeks as the whole entertainment industry rides on the coat tales of this movies success, and everyone goes crazy over Hugh Jackmans physique, please don't feel pressured into thinking that his 2024 physique in the movie is remotely realistic - or realistically attractive. Like I get the fantasy sure, but come on. I'd personally rather lie on a cushioned bed than a concrete floor.

Deadpool may disagree with me, but he's a masochist lol.

Oh and whilst I stand by the shade I threw at the MCU above, I think Wolverine's different physiques in the movies is a good standard of comparison for how much superhero movies have changed. Because when superhero comics first started getting adapted I think a lot of the choices made were about how to bring them to live action realistically and believably and the attitude was to try not to make them look ridiculous. The first X-Men movies definitely do this.

It was about bringing the comics to life in a way that fit in our world. But over the years, as audiences got more and more used to comic book movies the movies became more and more like comic books and less like a realistic adaptation of a comic book. Does that make sense? So as the movies attempted to bring the comics to life in a way that was less realistic and more comic accurate, the demands on the actors to sculpt their physiques to meet the standards of comic book art became normalised.

I think Deadpool and Wolverine is the MOST comic book accurate of all superhero movies made in the past 2 decades. Half the time the images from the movie look like they could be literally pulled from the pages of the comic books. The story is convoluted and stupid, the plot is barely there and is full of gaping plot holes and elements that don't fit any past stories. The action is ridiculous, extremely fast paced, gratuitous, and violent to a hilarious level. But it's so entertaining, joyful, exciting, and laugh out loud hilarious throughout.

It reminded me a LOT of my attempts at reading through the Deadpool comics (I've read a lot of them but no where near all of them).

To sum up this rambling message with multiple points, I'll say that Deadpool and Wolverine is a really fun movie that I thoroughly enjoyed, but make no mistake there is nothing real in it at all. It is almost literally a comic on screen. Don't expect anything more than that and you'll enjoy the experience.

[thegracefullion]

10 Generations. 10 Different Heroines. 1 Legacy. Welcome to the Literary Heroine Legacy Challenge! I’ve been itching for a good legacy to revive my love for the Sims 4, and I haven’t found one so I wrote one myself.  I was inspired after reading Emma— the family dynamics, drama, and romance were everything I ever wanted in a Sims challenge. So I modernized the stories and adapted them to fit this game.  Special shoutout to Designergirl81, who I met through MissLollypopSims’ Discord! The generations of Anne of Avonlea and Dorothy were their brainchildren. 💗 I designed each generation to reference a famous literary heroine. This is a very story-oriented challenge but feel free to bend, tweak, and change as much as you can! Sims Challenges aren’t meant to limit your fun. 😉 TL;DR: Play your own way while letting these rules guide your storytelling! The official tag of the challenge is #TheLiteraryHeroineChallengeTS4. Have fun! Check out the rules here or keep reading!

Basic Rules

Play on any life span you want but I recommend playing on Normal life span.

You are encouraged to play with female heirs. Of course, this is optional!

You are discouraged from using money cheats. Some generations have stories that are related to their social class— so try to stay true to the story as much as you can.

You can live wherever you want unless the generation states otherwise.

Feel free to customize each generation’s race and sexual orientation

Unless specifically stated, each generation has to finish their aspiration and career.

Even if most of these books are classics, I wrote this with a more modern take on it. You don’t need any mods or CC to fit the eras’ aesthetics— but if you want to, you totally can!

⭐ means there’s a recommended mod for this!

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 1: Elizabeth Bennett 📚 Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to play you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart. 📚

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that all Sims 4 challenges must start with an heir. In this case, that’s you, which is surprising because everyone else in your life has decided that you are plain, especially when compared to your other two sisters. Lately though, you start to sense that you’ve been getting more attention from your neighbors. One particular Sim hasn’t been able to leave you and your family alone… and you don’t like them at all, not one bit. Well… maybe just a bit.

Aspiration: Successful Lineage 

Traits: Family Oriented, Hot-Headed, Bookworm OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Journalist

→ Master the Writing skill. → Live in a rundown family home passed down by your parents with two sisters until you are married. → Have a negative relationship with a neighbor. → Reject a proposal from your work boyfriend. → Build a relationship with your neighbor after you reject the proposal of your ex. → Have a scandal involving one of your sisters that your neighbor supports you through. → Fall in love and marry this neighbor then move in with him. → Have two children.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 2: Emma Woodhouse 💗  It is very difficult for the prosperous to be humble.  💗

Growing up, you were always the sheltered one. Your father was very protective of you, and therefore never let you out of his sight. Of course, that didn’t stop you from becoming well-loved by the entire town. You were known for throwing the best dinner parties and befriending everyone your father and mother knew. Needless to say, this got to your head a bit. You weren’t arrogant, you were confident. In everyone’s eyes, you could do no wrong. Well, everyone except your childhood best friend— who was never afraid to call you out for being a bit clueless at times. 

Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante OR Party Animal

Traits: Self-Assured, High Maintenance, Music-Lover OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Romance Consultant or Lawyer

→ Master the Charisma and Piano skills. → Host at least 5 gold-star dinners. → Have a childhood best friend who’s a bit older than you. For example: When you’re 17 (end of teenage years), they’re already 20 (start of young adult years). * → You can’t have good friends who are your age until your childhood best friend ages up into a young adult. → Make a new friend that you treat like a “project” until you two fall out. Choose if you two will reconcile in the future. → Profess your love to your childhood best friend during a heated argument. → Marry your best friend and live with your mother and father in your childhood home until your parents die. Have one child. *It goes without saying to only get with your childhood best friend when the two sims are both young adults 🙂 No super uncomfortable age gaps, please.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 3: Scarlett O’Hara ✨ “Tomorrow, I’ll think of some way to get him back.” ✨ All your life, you grew up spoiled. Your mother and father were so in love, and you almost expected to have a story as romantic and easy as theirs. However, when your high school flame elopes quickly with someone else right after graduation, you start to spiral. No longer able to get things your way, you begin to self-sabotage and jump from relationship to relationship. Deep down you know you should stop and smarten up but frankly, my dear, you don’t give a damn.

Aspiration: Soulmate— you fail this 

Traits: Materialistic, Genius, Jealous OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: None until your divorce then become a Manual Laborer + Barista

⭐ Recommended Mods: Healthcare Redux Mod, Extreme Violence Mod

→ Don’t master any skill. → Have a high school flame who elopes with someone else. → Elope immediately with someone else. Have them die tragically.* → Marry another person quickly who you have bad compatibility with. Get negative romance with them right before they pass.* → Marry a third time. Have them catch you in a compromising moment with your high school flame, which leads to a divorce that leaves you with nothing. → End up working two part time jobs to keep your household running. → Have 4 kids with your 3 husbands (you can cheat for twins, if you want). *You decide how they die. I recommended having mods like the Healthcare Redux and Extreme Violence in your game for realistic roleplay reasons— but if he gets tragically eaten by a Cowplant that works too! 🙂

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 4: Jo March 🧾 “When the first soreness was over, she could laugh at her poor little book, yet believe in it still, and feel herself the wiser and stronger for the buffeting she had received.” 🧾 Growing up was not easy for you. Your childhood was incredibly unpredictable with your mother jumping from relationship-to-relationship. And when things started to stabilize emotionally, you ended up in poverty.  Luckily, you had your siblings to cling to, and a passion for writing that’s unmatched. You wrote a ton of things across different genres, except for romance which you didn’t quite understand. In fact, everyone always expected you to be a little woman, not rough or wild, but you knew in your heart that’s not what you were destined to become.

Aspiration: Best-Selling Author

Traits: Creative, Unflirty, and Ambitious OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Author

⭐ Recommended Mods: Writing Career Overhaul, SNB Banking

→ Master the Writing and Logic skills. → Be best friends with all of your siblings. → Start selling short stories as a teenager to help pay the bills. → Get a best friend in high school who professes their love to you during graduation. Turn them down. Optional: Have them marry one of your other siblings. → Move away to the city to focus on your writing. Always send 30% of your income to your mother until she dies. → Due to a tragedy in the family, adopt a child of one of your siblings.* → Win a Starlight Accolade for one of your novels. → Never marry but live a fulfilling life. *They are to be the next heir to preserve the bloodline. You can adopt more if you want.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 5: Anne Shirley 📖 “I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.” 📖 You were adopted by your aunt and lived a happy childhood. Despite being surrounded by family drama, you never let it dampen your spirit. You struggled with social cues and caused mayhem wherever you went— of course, that never stopped you from making your voice heard. You were, afterall, raised by someone who was never afraid to make a point. However, unlike your aunt, you always longed for romance. You always imagined big declarations of passion— but perhaps it’s time to learn that love creeps to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways.

Aspiration: Academic OR Soulmate

Traits: Romantic, Socially Awkward, and Loyal OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Education Career

⭐ Recommended Mod: Education Overhaul

→ Master the Research and Debate skill. → Have a childhood enemy that you become best friends with in high school. → Go to University and study Language and Literature. → Fall out with your best friend while in University. → Start dating someone you meet in University but break up right after graduation. → Get a job in the Education Career and write on the side. → Reconnect with your former best friend and realize you love them. → Get married to your best friend. → Retire from the Education career and become a freelance writer in your twilight years.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 6: Nancy Drew 🔍 “I don't promise to forget the mystery, but I know I'll have a marvelous time.”  🔍 Every bedtime, your mother read you stories that she and your grandmother wrote. Among all of those, it’s your grandmother’s mysteries that impacted you the most. There was something so thrilling about being a heroic, fearless woman who helped others out. Because of this, you gained a bunch of friends who loved you very deeply. With their support, you grew up as a well-known detective who can solve any case.  It was a fun life, but you eventually settled down in Henford-On-Bagley to have a family of your own.

Aspiration: Friend of the World 

Traits: Generous, Nosy, and Outgoing OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Detective OR  ⭐ Zerbu’s Simvestigations Mod

→ Master the fitness skill. → Be close friends with both your parents. → Have 2 best friends who are either your roommates (Discover University) or live in the same apartment complex as you (For Rent) for your entire YA life. → Get engaged to someone you meet on-the-job. → Before marrying your fiance, go on a trip to Selvadorada with your 2 best friends and explore the Jungle Temples. → Settle down in Henford-On-Bagley and have a farm life of your own. → Never move away once you settle in Henford-On-Bagley.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 7: Dorothy Gale 🐶 “If we walk far enough, we shall sometime come to someplace.”  🐶 Growing up you knew that there was more to the world than what was outside your own backdoor.  Afterall, your mother was a famous detective— if she went on her own adventures, why can’t you?

With her and your father’s support, you spend your young adult life traveling. You made some great friends along the way (and even some loves), but eventually you start to wonder if there is no place like home.

Aspiration: Local Aspirations— complete at least two

Beach Life

Mt. Komorebi Sightseer 

Fount of Tomarani Knowledge

Traits: Adventurous, Dog Lover, and Loves Outdoors OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Any Freelance Career 

⭐ Recommended Mods: SimNation Travel, Home Region

→ Have a dog that goes everywhere with you. → Live in 3 or more worlds during your Young Adult life. → Make 3 best friends that each teach you a valuable life lesson. → After making your three best friends, use reward points to add the following traits: Brave, Savant, and Incredibly Friendly. → As an adult, realize you miss your family and return home. → Have a long distance relationship with the father of your children.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 8: Wendy Darling 🌟 “She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. ”  🌟 You grew up waiting. First, for your father’s seasonal visits… which eventually stops when you become a teenager. Next, for the opportunity to leave Henford-on-Bagley to pursue your dreams of becoming an actress. And finally, for your first love, a man who refused to propose to you, no matter how long you waited for him to. Eventually you grew tired waiting and decided to grow up. You married a sensible man, had a child, and gave up your dreams of becoming an actress. Still, you held on to the dreams of your first love and end up reconnecting in a night of passion that leaves you pregnant with his child. Realizing that he’ll never grow up, you decide to dedicate your life to your family and husband.

Aspiration: Master Actor/Actress - you fail this or the⭐ Housewife Aspiration (after you marry)

Traits: Perfectionist, Proper, and Cheerful OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Actor/Actress

→ Master the Parenting skill. → Have a distant family dynamic with your father who never lives with you. → Join the drama club and meet your first love. Optional: He has the childish trait. → Give your first love all of your major romantic milestones. → Lose touch with your first love when you move to Del Sol Valley. → Marry a man you’d consider as sensible. Have one child with him. → Have a one time secret affair that results in another child. → Dedicate your life to your children afterwards.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 9: Alice Liddell  🐰 “It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.”  🐰

There were times you felt like you never truly belonged anywhere. While everyone at home lived and abided by your parents’ rules, your head was always in the clouds. Sensibilities and propriety were never in your vocabulary, much to the disdain of your father and the rest of your siblings. Still, you were a free spirit that could never be controlled. After moving out as a young adult, you fell in love with cooking and mixology. You also met a group of misfits who were as different as you. Every Sunday, you’d host special “tea” parties with them, that broadened your worldview and made you realize that the world gets curiouser and curiouser with each passing day.

Aspiration: Master Mixologist or Master Chef

Traits: Clumsy, Foodie, and Childish OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Culinary Career

⭐ Recommended Mods: Basemental, Grannies Cookbook, Open Love Life

→ Master the Cooking and Mixology Skills. → Have a juice/nectar hobby on the side. → Have a club with people who have weird or eccentric traits.* → Fall in love with someone with the Erratic Trait. → Host “tea” parties every Sunday in your own home. ⭐ Optional: Use the Basemental Mods and have your Sims get high on dope/drunk on alcohol during the tea parties. → Dye your hair a different, brighter color. → Live in a quirky and colorful house. → Befriend a rabbit who you talk to constantly. Name them The Mad Hatter. → ⭐ Optional: Be in a polyamorous relationship with Romantic Boundaries OR the Open Love Life Mod → Have two children. *You decide what weird and eccentric means.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 10: Countess Ellen Olenska  🎨 “The real loneliness is living among all these people who only ask one to pretend.”  🎨

You appreciated your mother’s lifestyle. You saw the world for what it could become, and not what everyone wanted it to be. However, you worried about your younger sister. You saw her innocence and wanted to protect it. When you turned into a young adult, you moved away and took your sister with you to start anew. However, life was not always easy. Straight out of teenhood, you married someone from a different city and had a tumultuous relationship with him. You separate with him and continue to care for your sister. You’re able to provide for her through your paintings, which also brought you a lot of fame. When she grew up into a Young Adult, she formed an attachment with a man that… intrigued you. She married him. This kept him in your life, but made it difficult for you to ignore your feelings. One night, you find yourself alone together, and you must make a choice: stay with him and break your sister's heart, or leave forever to give them peace. You have a price to pay either way— we can't behave like people in novels without consequence, can we?

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Traits: Gloomy, Art Lover, and Family Oriented OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Critic 

⭐ Recommended Mods: RPO, Wonderful Whims, Custom Relationship Bits, Soulmates

→ Master the Painting Skill. → Become a Level 3 Celebrity with your paintings. → Marry someone who isn’t your soulmate straight out of high school. Have a negative relationship with him before separating. ⭐ Optional: Only temporarily separate with him using the RPO Mod. → Be best friends with your sister. → Become soulmates with the partner of your sister without consummating the relationship. → When you’re an adult, invite your sister’s partner over, and make a choice— woohoo together and break your sister's heart, or end the emotional affair. → If you woohoo together - Tell your sister the next day and become enemies. Name your child after them. → If you end the emotional affair - Move away from your love and get back together with your ex-husband. Die without having your own children.

[loveemagicpeace]

Mars and what you attract

🎸Mars represents how you attract people and in what way. What kind of energy do you give off and how do people see you. Where you feel the best and where your energy is the best. At the same time, Mars represents male energy, which means that it also represents what kind of men you can attract.

🩶Mars in 1st house-your attractiveness is seen from the outside and people can quickly notice your energy. You are a person who always reacts to what is happening and knows how to stand up for yourself. People can sometimes see you as someone who is too impulsive or angry. You feel best when you do something for yourself and exercise or play sports. You can attract men who play sports, they are more muscular. It can also be men who are self-centered or put a lot of effort into their appearance.

🌹Mars in 2nd house-your attractiveness can be seen through your scent (perfume), skin or something related to skin care. You can have a lot of passion for cooking and food (you always want to enjoy food). You seek your energy through beauty and value. You can spend a lot on luxury or money. You want everything to happen slowly and to enjoy everything. You can attract men who have a lot of money or men who give you a lot.

🏝️Mars in 3rd house-your attractiveness shows through your speech, writing. People can often feel your passion through the way you speak. Writing can bring you great joy and passion. You can also have a great passion for books or things related to it. You can also give a lot of energy to your relatives and siblings. You can attract men who multitask or are all over the place, talkative, you can also be with someone who is a teacher, a writer.

🩷Mars in 4th house-your attractiveness shows when you are perhaps least well-groomed or at home in comfortable clothes. Your emotional energy is attractive to people. Mars is somehow hidden in this house and you can be a person who shares passion only with people who are really close to them or family. Your passion manifests itself through arranging your home, organizing things, enjoying time with your family. But you feel best in your own space at home. You can attract men who are more into family, are caring, emotional , maybe moody.

🎨Mars in 5th house-your attractiveness shows when you are doing something or being active, people often find you attractive when you are in action. You give a lot of your energy to hobbies, joy and enjoyment in general. You can find a lot of passion through romance, or it can even bring you the most joy. You prefer to do the things you did when you were a child or teenager. You always want to keep your teenage energy. You attract men who are confident, charismatic, proud, you can also be someone who likes to play games or childish men.

☁️Mars in 6th house-your attractiveness is shown through your body - people often like your body structure, organization, healthy lifestyle. You feel best when you invest your energy in being proactive, organized, doing something good for your body and keeping your body healthy. But a lot of energy can also go to work - you can become obsessed with work, which can be bad or can it affect your health. You can also feel the best among animals. You attract men who are hardworking, organized, picky, like to clean or someone who likes to work with animals. It can also be a veterinarian, a fitness trainer...

🌙Mars in 7th house-people like your beauty, neatness, style and justice. You feel your best when you get along well with everyone and your relationships are good. You can also feel your best when you are in a relationship. You devote a lot of energy to others and put a lot into making your relationship successful. You can also put a lot into your beauty and always looking beautiful. You attract men who are beautiful, who care a lot about their appearance and neatness. Men who are charming.

🫧Mars in 8th house-your attractiveness is shown through intimate or sexual attraction (many times people can find you attractive in this way). And also through the power you carry with you. You feel best when you have control and power over yourself and when you are emotionally stable. You can feel the best in your own space that no one knows about. You have a lot of intense energy in you, but you show it on the outside. You can feel good when you are spiritual, you can do research - you can also do astrology. You attract men who are very attractive and you can hardly resist them because they have such energy in them. Men who can be jealous, possessive, controlling, persistent, deep.

⛵️Mars in 9th house-your attractiveness shows through your energy, intelligence, stories. You have the most passion for travel, research, other cultures, places. These people usually always have a place that is their favorite or they like to go there very much. Passion for life itself means a lot to you, and through this you find that too. You travel a lot and are active, and that's where you put the most energy. You feel best when you travel. Traveling gives you a special energy and energy that you need to relax. You can attract men who are optimistic, adventurous, like to travel, teachers, professors, someone from a foreign country or culture.

🌿Mars in 10th house-your attractiveness is seen outwardly and in public, many times people can see you as very attractive. People may like how persistent, hardworking and successful you are. Usually these people are their own bosses and many of them you find attractive. You put your energy into success and reputation - maybe you can focus too much on work and people around you or how you will turn out. You can also give a lot of energy to your parents or elderly people. You can hang out a lot with your father, grandfather... You attract older men, men who are stable, serious, respectable, successful. Men who may somehow remind you of your father or have similar qualities. A man who respects you and can also be influential.

🎾Mars in 11th house-your attractiveness can often be seen on social networks. People can find you there as a very attractive person (perhaps because of your difference and uniqueness). Many times people find something attractive about you that you don't have (they can also find strange things that they find attractive about you). You put your energy into friends, socializing, your dreams and goals. You can also spend a lot of time trying to achieve your dreams, but at the same time you can also spend a lot of time on social networks. There are two types of people here: one type when you invest a lot in your friends and do a lot for them and want to have a group to belong to. Another type is that you can be alone a lot or feel better when you are alone and work on your interests. You attract men who can be strange, different, unique in some way.

💘Mars in 12th house-your attractiveness manifests itself in a mysterious way, people find you mysteriously beautiful and many times they like your soul and energy in general and they don't even know why. Like, they like your spiritual side and you can give off mermaid vibes. You put a lot of energy into art, drawing, writing, creating music, dancing - something that is more connected to the soul. You have many special and hidden talents. The best thing for your energy is to be by the ocean - anything related to it will give you peace and a relaxing vibes. Places by the ocean are some of the best. You have a very beautiful, strong and special energy. You attract men who are artistic, spiritual, emotional, self-sacrificing, you can also attract men from another country or someone who lives by the sea. Also you can find your soulmate and you feel the person through the energy - without even speaking.

✨ig-bekylibra✨

-Rebekah⛵️🩵🎨

[dandelionsresilience]

whether the internet becomes an intolerable surveillance state, ubiquitous subscription model, or unusably ad- or AI-ridden shithole, I think we need to remember

how to do things offline

either on your personal hard drive (just because it’s an app doesn’t mean the information is stored in your device) or on paper. I’m not saying the collapse of the internet is imminent, and I’m not suggesting we do everything completely without technology, or even stop using it until we have to. (to be clear, I also don’t think the internet will just blink out of existence, suddenly stop being a thing at all; rather I think it might continue to lose its usefulness to the point where it’s impossible to get anything done. anyway) but some people may have forgotten how we got by before the internet (I almost have!), and the younger generation might not have experienced it at all.

I figure most people probably use the internet mainly for communication with friends and family, entertainment and creation (eg. writing), and looking up how to do things, so here’s how to do those things offline:

First and most importantly, download everything important to you onto at least one hard drive and at least one flashdrive! files can get corrupted and hardware can get damaged or lost, but as long as you keep backup copies, you have much-closer-to-guaranteed access versus hoping a business doesn’t decide to paywall, purge, or otherwise revoke your access. I would recommend getting irreplaceable photos printed as well

download and/or print/write down:

anything important to you - photos/videos, journals, certificates, college transcripts

contact info - phone numbers and/or addresses of friends/family (know how to contact them if you can’t use your favourite messaging app), doctors (open hours would be good too), veterinarians if you have pets, and work

how-to’s - recipes (one, two), emergency preparedness (what do I do if… eg. I smell gas)

other things you might google: cleaning chemicals to NOT mix, what laundry tag symbols mean, people food dogs and cats can and can’t eat, plant toxicity to pets

and know offline ways to find things out - local radio station, newspaper, a nearby highway rest area might have a region map, public libraries usually have a bunch of resources

also, those of you who get periods should strongly consider not using period tracking apps! here’s how to track your period manually

free printable period tracker templates (no printer? public libraries usually charge a few cents per page, or you can recreate it by hand)

moving on to entertainment, you can still get most media for free! it’s completely legal to download your favourite movies to your own personal hard drive, you just can’t sell or distribute copies (not legal advice)

movies: wcostream.tv (right click the player) - the url changes every once in a while but usually redirects; I recently noticed that it’s hiding a lot of movies behind “premium,” so it may or may not work anymore | download youtube videos

music: how to get music without streaming it | legal free downloads

games: steamunlocked.net - doesn’t have every game and can be slow to update, but very reliable

books: free online libraries | legal free downloads

otherwise passing time:

active outdoor games

for road trips (social verbal games)

for when power’s out

for sheltering in place (not all offline, but good ideas)

board games (often found at thrift stores)

ad-free customisable games collection (mobile)

read, write, draw, or whatever your craft is, sing, dance, clean, reorganise, take a bath

go outside - excuses include napping (if safe), eating, reading, finding cool plants/animals/rocks, playing with the dog

places to go include:

zoos and museums can be surprisingly cheap

parks and nature preserves

library, mall, or game shop

and a few miscellaneous things for good measure:

time budgeting | household management

how to use a planner | I’ve had success with visually blocked-out schedules like these

please add on if you have any other offline alternatives to common uses of the internet!

[chlmtsdoll]

IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED

౨ৎ Summary: you’re Art and Pat’s (mid)wife without the legal agreements. They both want to finally get you pregnant but who will be the one to shoot his shot first ? 🤭

౨ৎ 18 + | smut !, threesome, p in v (unprotected sex), heavy breeding kink, size kink, polyamorous relationship, domestic (mean-ish) reader, (mid 20’s) needy Art and Pat, angst, gayness, jealousy, religious themes here and there, inspo from Good Graces by Sabrina Carpenter 🩵

The entire house had been a complete and total mess.

You spent most of your weekdays like this — in your Skims sets, hair tied up in a neat ponytail only to end up in a messy bun by the time you were done cleaning up after the two boys who made up most of your life.

Unless they’d been at tennis practice of course.

You never could have pictured your life turning into this in your wildest dreams, especially when you’d never been the kind of girl who was into dating of any sort at all. You hated it really. The chase, the frustration, the uncertainty. Since you were a little girl, all you knew was that you wanted to accomplish receiving the home of your dreams and a cute baby or two to keep your days a little less lonely. You couldn’t fathom it was too much to ask for.

And even though you really didn’t exclusively picture a man (or men) being apart of your future — early days at school, Art and Patrick would make it the competition of their lives to never leave you alone. Ever.

Since you all met your sophomore year of college, it was the two on their hands and knees at your feet. Both always striving for your attention, fancying you, stealing you away from your studies to try and make you settle for dating at least one of them — and to their surprise (or your luck) you never really did. So moving through your last years of class really pushed the three of you as close as a trio could get.

You didn’t exactly put tittles on whatever you had been since it wasn't your style anyway, and throuple just seemed so indifferent. You’d all been more than that. Art and Patrick were yours and you were theirs. You’d draw hearts around your names in all your text books. Picturing yourself rocking cradles and being theirs forever. You’d marry your boys if you could. It was a new upcoming part of your plan — but one worth diving into.

You really did adore them with every ounce of your being.

So eventually when they went pro and started competing full time, both Art and Patrick’s families supported your decision of getting a home together. A great chunk of what you’d always wanted finally coming to fruition. Which was why you didn’t really mind staying back to do the important things around the home that was perfect in every way to you. It was a necessity when you lived with two six foot successful athletes muddying up the place without even noticing it. You would make dinner yourself on the week days and they always helped out on the weekends. You picked out and folded their sports wear every night for them just so it would make the morning even a tad bit easier. You loved it, and you loved them.

Even if the home was almost always in need of a little clean up with how busy your lives had ended up being, you couldn’t say you didn’t admire that it was constantly filled with the endearment you all shared together — so just after a few months of moving in, you finally thought it was the perfect time to let Art and Patrick give you a baby.

As excited as they were when you laid it all out on the table and they’d been a hundred percent ready too, you hadn’t properly thought out how combative your husbands got when it came down to it. The first week you’d given them the green light, it was non stop arguments and fighting between the two for who would be the first impregnate you. And although you gave them a deadline, wanting to be in your second trimester by the end of the year, they still hadn’t come to a full agreement.

And you still weren’t pregnant.

It’s pushed you into having much more aggressive periods and definitely during ovulation. You wanted your baby right then. Right now. More than anything else in the world. It was why you made a promise to both Art and Patrick — so you didn’t have to deal with running through men. Trying to find the perfect one to give you what you wanted even into your thirties. There’s two of them. Which means double the assurance that you should have been pregnant by now.

You’d had a hamper between your hip and the washing machine as you were unloading the laundry you set earlier when you heard the front door being unlocked.

The foyer was filled with the loud conversation and laughter the boys brought home with them to greet you. — but you’d remembered that you just mopped the entire floor plan spotless. So you dropped the hamper instantly in a hurry,

“Wait- - Wait ! Shoes. Mud room.”

As you scurried up to them, the blonde and brunette had paused in their tracks to face you. Seconds away from placing their worked equipment and tiresome shoes on the sparkling clean floors, just before they had registered it been freshly washed. Both men melt into apologies and “sorry baby’s” roughly at the same time while you finally let yourself breathe again post saving the floors from a brutal de-makeover.

When you turned your back to grace the kitchen, taking out food and utensils to start on dinner it was of course moments till your husbands made their way to merrily greet you as they always did — unwashed and grinning like they didn’t just see you that morning. Art had sure to respectfully take off his cap when he walked in, his damp blonde curls scattered everywhere. They looked heavenly with the sweat he had brought with him too, and Patrick, even sweatier, snaked around the corner of the counter to embrace you from behind without a care in the world to his abhorrent musk filling up your senses so quickly.

“Hi, baby,” the brunette smirked down at your smaller figure from behind, he bent to press a kiss to your cheek whist grabbing your dainty waist in his own brawny hands.

“How’s our girl ?”

Art began to smile from the other side of the counter in front of you. The blue hue of his eyes twinkled as he looked over your relaxed figure carrying on with what you’d been doing. “How was your day, sweetness ?”

“I caught a movie.. then I came back and cleaned up around here.” You spoke so nonchalantly the boys had already caught on to the fact that you weren’t your normal excited self who was over the moon to have them home. It was odd.

“So, that’s why you haven’t started on dinner yet..” Patrick chuckled, still behind your shoulder as he peered down at you, and you only glanced up at him with a mainly forced but soft simper.

“Oh, I’m so glad you noticed.. because you’re finishing it.” You only tapped Patrick’s freckled nose with a smile was laced with hints of sarcasm too smoothly, and as you looked between the two, their own glad expressions started to slip away when they really noticed your demeanor was not having it. You’d been pissed.

“So.. you’re not-”

“No. Do it yourselves,” you dried your hands on a cloth and shoved it off before removing yourself from Patrick’s embrace to exit the kitchen without a care. The boys watched your movements with frozen looks.

“I mean, we all should equally feel the current of not getting what we’ve been waiting for, right?”

As you stopped yourself from walking away to face them again with a look on your face that was holding back a thousand words of real rage, with just a cover of curiosity to how they could be so oblivious to your own needs — Art observed you from over his shoulder with a furrowed brow that also tugged a frown on his expression before he spoke.

“Baby- -”

“No. We had an agreement.” Your voice raised in pitch and you tried not to pout. Stand your ground. “I want a baby. And I still don’t have a baby.. and it’s ridiculous b-because, it’s not that complicated. Theirs two of you for fucks sake!”

You were angry, and quite upset. And even though you were pmsing, that wasn’t why. It was the exact problem.

Your emotions were at an all time high, and both men could have put that together at the way your voice shook, and nose had done that flair thing it did when you were at the peak of crying. Just on the verge of tears. But they had to know how you felt. And the way Art and Patrick observed you now, had affirmed they were taking in how it must all feel on your end.

“I thought we were in this together- guys. I-I thought we were ready to start a family…” your eyes switched between the two and their dejected faces before they both erupted into words of reassurance to decline to your state. Making their way over fast to where you stood, to be in the presence of their much shorter but adorned wife.

“We are!” The brunette huffed out.

“We’re a team.. that’ll never change, angel.“ the blonde one spoke over the other, and you crossed your arms as you looked up at both your tall and handsomely gorgeous (but very stupid at times) boys.

“Then fix this.. Get it together among yourselves like grown men who actually want a baby. Because bickering about who’s gonna get me pregnant first won’t get us anywhere.”

You breathed out deeply and searched their obedient assertion before Art and Patrick both nodded to each other in guilt of their actions. They knew how much you wanted this. And you confirmed you didn’t necessarily have to stop at just one.. you’d wanted a little bunch really — so both of your boys would have created something with you.

Their strife for who got there the quickest though, had been totally picked up from ego.

“We’ll.. come to it settled by tomorrow. But really, cut the chase baby, Patrick is just in it for all the sex with you… so your answers right there.” Art commented as he only half joked at Patrick’s wit to selfishly get you laid back to back.

The brunette retreated with shoving the other man in his side. “Fuck. Off. If I was in it for the breeding kink alone I’d say that… probably- -” Patrick defended in all seriousness to his nonsensical answer, and they had both scoffed at each other — you rolled you eyes.

This had been the root of your tiredness.

Sometimes you didn’t even know why you agreed to this. They could be such idiots. Lovable ones although. Enough that you’d let them be the fathers of your children evidently.

“Just… hurry up. Or I promise, I won’t let either of you touch me.” It was between you and god how true that statement actually was. But your eyes met their green to blue in all seriousness before you turned away again. “And wash yourselves before coming in my kitchen next time.”

It took every fiber of your being not to turn back and gently leave them with kisses after such a talk — but you had to show them you meant it. that you really weren’t fucking around this time. You’d definitely classify yourself as a much attentive wife. Always too nice to both of them, but they’d known how fast you could switch up like that — being as sweet as an angel one moment then not giving a fuck the next.

And it’s what they deserve for not attending to your needs too. Although you’d all still been fairly young and they were used to just being careless boys, constantly fucking things up time to time. But now that you’d all spoken out on being ready to settle down, they had to show you they truly meant it. That they wanted this just as badly as you did.

So if locking yourself in your room without your husbands, dickless and babyless would do the trick, then so be it.

It was bound to pay off, because around two weeks later when you let the boys know you were ovulating. They wasted no time to be on you every second of every day.

Fucking was all you’d known this time around, day and night Art and Patrick would take turns filling you with as much of their seed as possible. Giving you the most otherworldly orgasms you’d probably ever experienced got you letting them fuck you in as many ways as they could fit in between the hours they didn’t have tennis and could just be with you. There was something about you wanting them so badly to plant their own inside you, and something about them taking their greedy turns over you till the light of dawn made your sex drive triple it’s increase. The boys would end up arriving late to practice after making your body the judge of who’d be the one to carry your first born.

It all came down to when Art had no rein to miss when his sponsors asked him to be of attendance to a leading event. — which also lead to you and Patrick staying the night indoors, alone, without your other counterpart.

“Please ?”

“We shouldn’t, Patrick. He’ll be upset that he wasn’t here, you know how Art gets.”

Patrick scoffed off your words as he fast walked (chased) after you into the bedroom, “pssh. He has a sponsorship. He’ll be fine… c’mon baby, how am I supposed to make you a mommy if you don’t let me try?” Patrick grinned as he sauntered closer to where you stood. That grin on his face that said he’d already been painfully hard, you knew like the back of your hand. When Patrick towered over you untamed and pressed a deep kiss to your jaw line, you met him where he took your hips with his selfish hands — just below him you let your half husband leave kisses down your neck with that damn luring smirk on his face, still.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes playfully at his acts to get you to let him fuck you without Art around like usual. You already knew the petty excuse you’d use to tell him you didn’t go against the agreement you all kept. Only having intercourse when it was the three of you while trying to conceive, since you’d all be equal parents to the child.

Although, it was without a doubt that Patrick had a way with his undeniable charming nature, and it almost always paved the path to you just giving into the calculated man at some point.

He was pulling you on to his lap by the time you two reached the bed. His slightly calloused hands exploring, kneading your skin. Your breath hitched and Patrick let out a slow devious laugh as his grip on you wondered till it embraced your breasts and the man groped you with all pleasure. “These are gonna be so full when you get pregnant, baby. I can’t wait.” He had that cheeky grin as your eyes panned down at him from your position in his lap. You only let out a soft chuckle as you we’re totally more focused on when he’d get his pants off.

“I swear to god Patrick, I’m not fucking around. You better put a baby in me or I’ll have Art do it.” Your voice was pungent but remained sweet overall. The brunette snickered as he kissed on your chest anyways,

“Just relax baby doll, let me take care of it. Trust me you’ll be pushing a stroller before you even finish.” Patrick groaned into your skin. He continued pushing up your shirt and going straight to your nipples to place his lips with a soft curse while you put your hands in his hair just to watch the way he acted as if he’d been at starvation from you.

Deep down you knew for a fact Patrick had only been motivated to the whole baby making process for the kink of it all. The messy and wild sex constantly. Getting to cum in your pussy rein free as many times as he pleaded without a break, being the one to say you’d been carrying his child he planted inside of you. He was a thousand percent deep into a breeding kink since you’d all been in college. And no matter how much he tried to deny it these days, it didn’t even amount to the way he’d boast about loving to just see the sight of you pregnant and fully round, struggling to do simple daily tasks as your bump grew and grew every day. Meanwhile, it being all caused by him. The fantasy stroked his ego in a way like no other. He’d for sure end up being the type to tell friends the exact position you’d been in when he knocked you up. It was more of a contest of manly hood for the tennis player and you surely knew that.

On the other hand, Art had been dreaming of starting a family since practically a kid, he’d been proudest to say. He was in it not just for himself in a way that made him overwhelmingly happy to have a little one of his own to take care of, but for you. Making sweet love to you day and night, trying for the possibility of making a mini version of himself and you — just because he adores your personality and features so much that he’d want them in his own offspring. Art idolized the bond you two have that much. Always the one out of your husband’s to be doing as much research as he could in his free time by reading up on what were the best chances of giving you a baby and making the experience the most pleasurable for you. What would be healthiest way for you to give birth, baby names, and when you previously found his YouTube search history had been filled with how to properly build a cradle, or how to swaddle a new born. It made your heart all warm and mushy feeling. Jumping around underneath your chest even.

It was the cherry on the top of your ideal life. And you knew the right way to go deep down.

But as Patrick lowered your hips against his, skin on skin, and heated kisses in the middle of your make-out session being the only thought to cloud your mind — you’d been blinded by the one sided-ness of the man and the opportunity to end all anticipation of getting pregnant as soon as possible.

“Yeah, yeah- - just like that..” you panted as the brunette watched you while he was quick to lift himself and you to pull down his sweats and align himself with your entrance. Your hands had been wound to his shoulders while he reached for your ass in preparation of you taking his sized up cock like you owned it. And he lived for that. Patrick was dripping of pre-cum beneath you already. “Put it in.” You breathed out whist beginning to slide down his member as he pushed up into you. A low groan coming from the tease of a man, and the back of his head lost balance in your hands as you began to move on top of him.

“Take my cock baby… fuck, you feel good.” His low grunts and hands getting you to rock your hips faster was enough to get your skin feeling as if it been lit on fire. Your jaw agape enough to when Patrick put his lips on yours — you’d been met by his tongue on instant, sloppily kisses were laid in between your combatting lips. Patrick pulled a clean moan out of you as your legs begin to tremble at his penetration being rough to your walls on instant.

“Mmm- Pat… oh,” you’d been riding him on the edge of the king sized bed. Bouncing like there was no tomorrow in such little time. Your drive has just been insane, you could fuck like you took meals. The feeling of the finely built man running against the cave of your sensitive cunt assured you, this was it. You were getting pregnant by the end of tonight. If it weren’t for the astonishing thick walls, your moans could of filled every hallway of the house by now.

That was until the creek of the masters door had been a distracting note. And the blonde that appeared in it even more so.

When your movements froze and Patrick’s kisses to your neck loosened, the two of you were startled to see the sight of Art coming through that very doorway with a perplexed but not at all surprised look of predictability on his face.

Instead of pulling Patrick out of you to greet your other lover, the smile on your face only grew as you stared over at the less disheveled man placing his back pack on the floor.

“Hi, baby.” You would of been questionably chipper to most, but for the three of you this was as normal as it gets.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” Art shrugged softly as his crystal blues examined the heat you and Patrick had created in the atmosphere.

“But.. do you really want a brunette ? Wouldn’t you prefer the baby be- - I don’t know… A blonde ?”

“Oh, fuck off, Art.” Patrick, who had still been inside you let himself fall back into the bedsheets with a groan. And you already knew the blonde had a grin of his own spreading across his lips. You closed your eyes with a deep exhale.

“Guys.. stop it.” you huffed as you pushed on the brunettes limp shoulder, with a soft eye roll that landed back on Art, your expression softened at the sight of your golden boy prancing closer to the two of you. Your smile appeared again. “Come join us baby.”

You knew Patrick would be annoyed and bitching over the fact he didn’t get to cum inside you himself before Art had shown up. But it didn’t matter so much to you when overall, you wanted Art to be as much involved as his own. Even if Patrick had been the one to shoot his shot first.

You slid off of Patrick to crawl closer and plant your lips on Art’s with a pleasant little noise of joy, which the blonde then sent his hands to hold your waist as he leaned into your affectionate greeting.

“Hi.” He chuckled as he leaned away to meet your eyes. Like he wanted nothing. Needed nothing but you.

“How did it go ?”

“Good- - it went good. Boring, really. But what I’m more interested in is how many times you two fucked today..” Art raised a subtle brow as he glanced between you and the sexually frustrated man who’d had his back turned away from you and Arts embrace at the moment.

If only hiding behind your flustered face was an option.

“Y’know.. you’re more than welcome to tune into the fifth round, Art.” Patrick spoke out to poke the other man again and before he could glance at you, his eyes widen with a plea of ‘really ? Five ?’ laced through it and you immediately shook your head.

“No, no..” you held Art’s face in your hands, high cheek bones made it easy to acknowledge his pre-frown. Before he could assume more, your eyes search his while you kicked Patrick’s shoulders slightly. “He’s being a dick. That’s not true…”

“Let him believe it, doll. Now, can we get back to it please ? We have a baby to make.” Patrick’s tone was smug and filled with the tension to just get to your wet enclosure, and before you could even shut him up again, Art did it for you.

“Well, for that to happen, you do know she has to be on her back right ? Or at least comfortable in some capacity..” Art questioned the man and Patrick scoffed at his remark.

“I knew that.”

“Did you ? You had her on top, I would of at least expected doggy style from you, man.”

“Why does it fucking matter?!”

“Because she’s fertile right now!”

“Art, when the fuck did you become a baby daddy ? Please, explain. Because I could like to know-”

“My god. Will you two just shut up and put a baby in me!”

You’d gotten so fed up with the two bickering over nonsense, you stood to your knees between them on the bed as your frustration was shown through your expression that was slowly but surely going dull.

“Honestly, with all this tension, and arguments.. when even was the last time you fucked ?”

Your eyes switch between the two boys who choked on their own tongues when you brought up them being the ones in absence of fucking out their frustrations with one another. And you tried to hide your smirk as best as you could behind your doting eyes.

You wanted them to feel like they’d been draining you by the second, like you’d leave and shut them out again if they didn’t just handle you like real men.

“You know what, that’s it.” Art stood up from your side and glanced down at both you and Patrick who’d been taken by surprise to his new found demeanor.

“You wanna be a mommy ? I’ll make you a mommy.”

Art tugged on the bottom of his white tee, to remove it from his body swiftly — revealing his burly pecks and excellent abs that round a grin from you as easy as could be. He grabbed your wrists firm but with rooted gentleness as he took you aside. “Patrick. Make use of yourself and lay back so you can hold her reversed cowgirl.” Those last few words were more than enough to get the brunette on board as he himself stripped to then make his way neat against the pillows and covers. Art built brief lustful eye contact with you, leading you to straddle Patrick’s lap. The blonde couldn’t stop himself from grinning, and you pulled your lip into your mouth as your patience began to burn quick and your need for both of the men started to rise with it.

Patrick’s hands were on your sides as he pulled you into him, leaning in close to your ear where you felt his soft lips meet your lobe, “I can’t wait to have you full of both of us, princess.” His voice rasped at the perfect tone that had your spine increase with chills. His hands help adjust we’re your ass met his thighs. And that’s when Art came hovering over the two of you — meeting you face to face with even more want than ever. Your lips press into one another divinely as you could of sucked his bottom lip into your own if he stayed there long enough.

You smile into the smooches anyways. Your light, your angel boy, gracious as ever, depressed his palm into the firm mattress beneath where you and Pat coexist, as he made himself comfortable on top. You kept kissing Art with deep hungry moans humming from your windpipe. A slow but fervent pace. It’s like the man could sense your wetness before he even reached down between your thighs to part your legs. But when he did, with tenderness and urgency, he made them just wide enough for how he and Patrick would need you to be for them.

The blonde’s slender fingers rub around your core and he wet his digits with your slick before dipping them in your cunt leisurely, “Patrick did prep you good, but let me.. us, take care of things for once, alright ? You just focus on feeling good.” Art ducked his head to watch the way he added another finger to disappear inside you and your whine was soft. But your focus was on him. He looked overwhelming gorgeous on top of you — golden curly locks followed his every move. You felt more assured then ever by the way his sweet words made your tense muscles shift. Soon, Patrick to your left, left soft kisses on your shoulder blade which that just made you melt.

He stroked his erection before inching to slide himself back inside your soaked heat, and you closed your eyes with a sweet whimper leaving your plump lips at the way the brunette slid though your walls again — Art’s tongue darted out to watch the way you sunk down on Patrick before his eyes. Getting ready to penetrate you himself, “keep holding her, Patrick. Make sure she’s relaxed.” The man on top of you murmured with dilated pupils and mouth practically salivating just witnessing it second hand.

You bit down on your lip while Art put his cock above where Patrick had been, working himself against your already pulsing cunt, begging to be used by the two gorgeous boys. And before finally pushing into you along with the brunette, Art pushed you farther on to your back against Patrick’s broad chest.

“Stay open for us like a good girl, we’re gonna make you a mommy for sure this time.” You heard Patrick’s voice come in with a grin, he held your thighs apart as Art bottomed out inside of you the same way Patrick had with an echoed grunt. The double penetration sent your mouth going agape straight away, your face scrunched up in pleasure and pain at the same time.

“oh- - oh, fuck” your breathing hitched as the men just filled you with their length and girth. The farther they burrowed in you, the quicker you realized you’d probably never get used to the stretch of taking both of their dicks at once, nor would you tire of it either. But this was what you needed. Right this second, to be breed and stuffed with enough cum you’d have more than sufficient chances to have one of their babies make it to growing within you.

The blonde and brunette had started to move at a steady pace, then quicker as time followed. You sometimes felt as if your body was meant to take them like this — your moans and cries escalating could of confirmed that with how you’d been coating their cocks with more of your juices as they fucked into you. Both men making pornographic noises of their own while getting to submerge into your sweetness at the same time. The friction of feeling one another setting off a different kind of euphoria that had been truly in a league of its own.

From Patrick pushing his heels into the comforter to pound up into you, and Art’s hands going opaque with veins as he gripped on to the side of your hips to ass — to keep you open for him to have the best access to your womb, made your eyes go teary with the impact of it all. The way their balls carelessly slapped against your ass that would surely be darkened with a bruise tomorrow. Thrusting without mercy made you feel a heavenly kind of dizzy at this point.

Art couldn’t help but grin at the bulge he and Patrick had been imprinting on your lower belly as you could only shriek and moan on their cocks in repetition like you’d been saying a prayer after every pound to your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck- - god, princess. You’re gonna make us daddies aren’t you ? That tummy is gonna be full with us just like it is now, and you’ll love it. I don’t think you’ll ever stop wanting to let us fill you with babies you can take care of.” Art had panted out into your ear with a airy chuckle and you were too fucked out to do anything but tremble more from his words, the brunette has been smirking in agreement.

“Shit. She’s gonna be so pretty lookin’, Art. Being at home with the kids, nurturing everything she touches like the sweet girl she is… just to get breed nice and round again and again, isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

You were over the edge. Completely cock drunk and fucked stupid by your boys who held you together in the mess they made of you. That’s when you couldn’t keep it back anymore. “Oh- yes… god, yes. Fuck !” A high pitched whimpering moan ripped through you as you came hard, leaving Art and Patrick’s overly slick cocks with yours and their creamy details.

“Oh, shit, shit !” The brunette cursed from over your shoulder.

“Fuck- - Patrick.. you ready ?” Art huffed as he and your other husband didn’t stop plunging into you. They took your overstimulated and overstuffed hole clenching them through your orgasm as the gateway to finally leave their seed to your body’s pride.

Taking their slowed thrusts back up a notch, the boys fuck into you till you cry and they both cum with a slew of groans and other curses like that. Your muscles couldn’t hold up. You let yourself collapse against Patrick’s skin as the two pumped ropes into your pussy till they’d been drained out.

Art snapped his eyes shut as he strained into you with a deep grunt. He palmed Patrick’s shoulder “don’t pull out- - don’t move.. stay in. For as long as you can.” Patrick kept his hips flush against you. Your legs trembled and your chest heaved repeatedly, your cunt began to feel numb. You brought your swollen lip between your teeth.

“Mmmh... Art- - I don’t know how much longer I can hold up..” your wide tearful eyes met the blonde’s gaze as he leaned even closer to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers right then.

“I know, baby, I know.. but we have to make sure you have all the chances of getting pregnant.” The blonde kissed your knuckles as he stayed there with you — and Patrick did the same. Staying put and not letting up till they had been as sure as could be that you were having a child.

It brought a simper to your lips as your chest eased into a relaxed sigh. The two men finally pull out of you with low moans and you immediately sprawl on your back to smile to yourself on the bedsheets.

You’d been pregnant. You just knew it. You felt it. When Art and Patrick came together to create something out of their love with, and for you — you knew your prominent instinct couldn’t of let you down now. And only a single pregnancy test later, and a trip the three of you all took to your doctor. It had been confirmed. You were pregnant.

And to your pleasant surprise and overly joyous nature... Your first born would turn out to be a Donaldson.

[ellecdc]

Hardass

Chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who survive a shift from hell

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: fem!reader, mention of alchohol/drinking, fluff.

comes from a request from @maladaptiveescapism: chef!sirius and mixologist!reader. sirius is a chef at a fancy restaurant and maybe a mishap happens with booking and reader has to keep the people sitting at the bar waiting for a seat and she does such a good job because she��s flirty and fun and trained for this. sirius who always has such a short temper (chefs, am I right) secretly worships her because she’s the one thing he can count on

Sirius was fuming, to say the least.

He loved his job; he really did. The kitchens were his sanctuary, and it was the first place he fled to when he ran away from home at only sixteen. 

Though he knew Effie and Fleamont would have helped with anything he needed (or even wanted, for that matter), he didn’t want to become a burden or take advantage of their kindness. So, he found a part time job in a small family owned restaurant as a dishwasher.

Washing dishes became bussing tables. Bussing tables became hosting. Hosting became serving. He went from a server to a line cook, until finally someone took him under their wing, and Sirius made a name for himself.

Now he was a successful chef working in a successful restaurant and he certainly had made a name for himself.

That name? Hardass.

But it took a certain intensity to run the kind of kitchen that Sirius did, and he expected nothing short of greatness from the kitchen staff.

Fortunately for Sirius, it was the restaurant manager’s fuck up that caused tonights issues.

Unfortunately for Sirius, that fucked everything up for his staff in the kitchen. 

“So, quick question for you Jeffery; did you pass year four maths?” Sirius asked earnestly, watching Jeffery shove his tongue in his cheek to avoid snapping back at the glowering chef in all his tattooed intensity. “Because last time I counted, we don’t have this many sodding tables!” He continued, pointing at the number of reservations scheduled for tonight.

“Uh oh.” You carefully called out as you walked in through the front door, in the process of shucking off your jacket as you made your way towards the bar. “Looks like you could use a drink, chef.” 

Sirius was almost mad at how much of the rage seemed to settle down into a simmer at the sight of you; he didn’t want to calm down, he wanted to ring Jeffery’s fucking neck out.

But Jeffery, the coward, had used your entrance as a means to fuck off from whatever circle of Sirius’ personal hell he’d been summoned from. 

“We’re overbooked tonight.” Sirius grumbled as he sat dejectedly at your bar; mirroring what likely most of your patrons looked like as they spent their weekday evenings with you.

“Shit luck.” you sighed commiseratingly as you poured two shots of vodka and slid one to him. “Here’s to working our sodding asses off then, hm?” You said with a smirk as you touched your glass to his and threw it back like a pro. 

And you had indeed been right; the two of you had worked your sodding asses off tonight. But the difference between the two of you was astounding.

Sirius spent most of his evening sweating, cursing, and - more embarrassingly - shouting at the poor servers looking for their orders that ‘clearly weren’t fucking ready yet, were they?!’. 

But not you. 

Alright, did he take the opportunity to run out the odd plate for the servers just to steal a glance at you? Sure. Sue him. And everytime he did, he’d pass the very busy bar which was always full of couples and groups waiting for a table to clear. None of them seemed to mind, however, as they watched you shake, throw, spin, catch bottles like it was an olympic sport; all with a smile on your face and mischief in your eyes. 

It was as if they were your captive audience and you were thriving on stage. 

Sirius wanted to stay and enjoy the show; but you were working your arse off, and Sirius should be too.

Sirius’ feet were killing him, which meant most of his staff’s feet were worse; his shoulders ached, his head was pounding, and his fingers were raw.

But they made it to the end of the shift; and he supposed that was all that mattered.

He brought out two plates of the restaurant’s famous (read: Sirius’ famous) pasta alla gricia.

You were no longer wearing your beaming smile and Sirius could now see some of the weight of the night in your shoulders and the way your hair was falling as you reorganised your bar.

“Think you can take a break?” He asked as he sat at your freshly cleared bar and placed one plate in front of him and one behind the bar for you.

You startled, which Sirius thought strange for someone who seemed so confident and assured every time he’d walked past your bar for the past almost year the two of you have worked here, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Oh my God.” You groaned appreciatively as you abandoned your task to take in the plate he’d prepared for you. “I’m starving; thank you!”

Sirius chuckled and suddenly felt shy, which he did not think suited him at all, but you were smiling at him like he was your personal angel on earth and he couldn’t help but return the gaze.

“Let me get you a drink?” You asked, but turned to start pouring him a glass of wine (perfectly suited for the dish, mind you) before he had a chance to answer. 

You placed both drinks on the bar and brought your plate around to sit on the stool beside Sirius.

The two of you ate in relative silence; allowing the stress and exhaustion from the shift to wash over you. 

“I think I made Chloe cry.” Sirius said finally, causing you to snort.

“You did.” You agreed quickly. “She came and helped me in the bar for a bit and Jeffery had to run her tables after that.”

Sirius barked a laugh as he took a sip of his wine. “I was wondering why that sod was in my kitchen. Well, I’m sorry to Chloe, but happy to have put Jeffery to work.”

Speaking of the devil; Jeffery came out front with his jacket on and a work bag slung over his shoulder. 

“I’m heading out now; are you two okay to close up?”

You smiled at him, but unfortunately for Jeffrey, Sirius responded first. “Yes we can close up.” He sneered. “We’re not new here Jeffery.”

“Thanks Jeffery, have a nice night.” You relented; giving Sirius a gentle kick in the shin.

The door shut behind the bastard and Sirius felt his shoulders relax. “I hate that sod.”

Thankfully, you only laughed at him.

“I think you hate everyone here.”

“That’s not true.” Sirius disagreed quickly.

“Well you certainly don’t like anyone here.”

“That’s not true either. I quite like you.” Sirius admitted, quickly hoping to god his cheeks didn’t flush at his impromptu admission. 

You hummed in acknowledgement with a cheeky smile on your lips. “Is that why you made me dinner? As a thanks for being the most tolerable coworker?”

“Most tolerable, certainly. Also for saving our arses tonight in the kitchen; I’m not sure how you managed to keep those folks so happy all evening.”

“Oh, that’s easy; get them drunk and steal desserts from the kitchen.”

“That’s where all my tiramisu was going?” Sirius asked in faux contempt.

You only smiled at him and shoved the last bite of your pasta in your mouth.

“You minx.” He continued, taking the now empty plates to the kitchen as you followed dutifully behind him with the glasses. 

“Get out of my kitchen.” Sirius joked, plucking the wine glasses from your hands as he moved to wash the dishes.

“I’d think not.” You argued. “I got a free meal; put me to work, chef.”

“First of all, it was not a free meal; you more than earned it after your performance tonight. Secondly, don’t call me chef.”

“Why not? You are a chef, aren’t you?” You teased as you leaned sideways against the counter to watch him work.

“Yes; but if you call me chef, what am I supposed to call you?”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “What do you mean ‘what are you supposed to call me’? My name is fine.”

“My name’s not chef.” He countered.

Your eyes narrowed challengingly at him. “What do you want to call me, Sirius?”

Mine?

“Haven’t decided yet.” He said instead, keeping his eyes on the dishes in his hands instead of meeting your gaze currently burning into the side of his head.

“Well…” You started, walking over to release some paper from the chit, and scribbling something out on it. “Why don’t you just call me…tomorrow?” You said, handing him the paper after he dried his hands on a teatowel.

Your number was scrawled out with a dainty little heart beside it.

Sirius looked back up at you to see you smiling shyly at him.

“I can assure you I will be.” He promised.

Your smile grew at that as you began walking backwards towards the backroom. 

“Have a nice night, Sirius.” You said before you exited the kitchen.

It was too late to wish him a nice night; he’d already had one.

[aethersea]

I've always wanted to learn bookbinding, ever since I was a wee little nerd, but there are a lot of things I've always wanted to learn, and this one has both a daunting upfront materials cost and a daunting upfront research cost. however, my sister is a jewel among siblings and gave me for christmas last year a handy dandy bookbinding manual, a block of good paper, and a little bag of tools.

but I still didn't have a suitable workspace, nor any of the many important tools and materials that she didn't include in her gift. so I just read the manual and pined. until maybe a month ago I got fed up with pining, flattened a cardboard box for a cutting mat, and went to town.

and I'm real proud of myself, so here's me rambling, plus photos!

I went to the thrift store and got glue + some fabric to bind the cover, went to Michaels for a paintbrush (and later went back for a metal ruler lmao it's amazing how useful it is to have a straightedge for cutting the paper), and...could not find material for the cover boards. so I went home and pined some more. but the urges were too strong, so after a couple hours of moping I got a stack of printer paper at the grocery store (I could not bring myself to use the good paper for my first, inevitably weak attempts, I just couldn't do it) and started making a little booklet. which was a great idea, it turned out, since it makes for good practice with cutting the paper, measuring things, punching holes in the signatures, etc.

I have a big box of greeting cards from Michaels, which I used for the covers. it didn't feel like I was making a Real Book, so I got some colored paper from the stationery store and used that for end papers.

so fancy~

galvanized by this success, I ordered a stack of chipboard online to use for cover boards; and once I was confident that I could cut paper without making it look too stupid (getting that straightedge ruler sure helped lol), I made signatures out of the good paper, left them under some heavy books overnight since I don't have a book press, and then punched holes in them! (huzzah for this nice video on getting the holes right)

my sister's gift included good linen thread. it's unwaxed, but after some poking around on r/bookbinding it looks like that just means I'll have to be more careful to avoid tangles and keep good tension. I am fine with this. I can be extra attentive. (I considered just running it over a beeswax candle, but one commenter said if your wax has paraffin in it, it could melt in a hot car, ruining the spine. I can't guarantee my candle is 100% beeswax, I didn't make it, so maybe we just move on.)

I don't have good linen fabric to use for the tapes, but the important part there is that the fabric be thin, sturdy, and not stretchy. the probably-cotton I got from the thrift store fits the bill, so it'll do!

this is a french link stitch, which I got from this exceedingly good tutorial. apparently it's strong enough on its own that for a book of this size, I don't actually need tapes, but I'd already cut the things so eh here we are. and tapes plus french link will make it a stronger binding still (according to a friendly redditor on r/bookbinding), so we carry on.

specifically we carry on to the gluing step. now as I mentioned, I do not have a book press, and you....kinda need one for this step. you need to hold the book block in place with the signatures facing upwards, pressed together hard enough that the glue won't run down between them and stick the pages together (though you do want the glue to get between them just a little, just for like a 16th of an inch). you at least need some clamps and a couple boards to sandwich the book block with.

but you know what? I'm not a professional, this is my first ever book, if it's a little bit off it'll be fine. so we grab all the heaviest books off the bookshelf and improvise.

it's fine! I'm sure it's fine! and just in case it's not, I've tucked a bit of cardboard underneath to catch any glue that drips down so it won't land on the floor. see? I'm prepared! I'm acing this.

and actually, it really was fine. I used clear elmer's glue, applied with a flat paintbrush from the art supplies aisle at Michael's, and frankly I liked the way the flat paintbrush let me slip glue in between the signatures. I did poke around on a couple bookbinding sites to see what kind of glue I should use, and the gist is that although there are better options than this, elmer's glue is perfectly serviceable, and the main downside is it's not archival grade. but I don't need my first bookbinding attempts to last 200 years, that's fine.

the next step is to add the mull. mull is a specific type of fabric – extremely loose-weave linen – and the idea is to paste it down over the spine to essentially hold the tapes and signatures all in place in relation to each other.

but I don't have mull! so I'm using more of the thrift store probably-cotton, because it's thin enough and not really stretchy at all. I'm sure this will be fine too. I painted a layer of glue onto the spine, then left it to dry a bit while I measured and cut the fabric, then painted a generous stripe of glue down the center, where it'll affix onto the spine. then I added a bit more glue to the spine, just to be sure, and pressed the mull into place, rubbing it thoroughly to make sure it's firmly affixed to every signature, with no creases in the fabric or air bubbles beneath it.

honestly I might have overdone it on the glue. I've never done this before, I don't know! I think it's okay, though – I tried not to ever let it become a thick layer, just a slight coating, since the danger of too much glue is that it might crack once dry and weaken the spine.

and now we leave it in the press overnight to dry, and pick up the next step in the morning!

[toxycodone]

The way i need kabru to teach me the anatomy of the human body by using himself as a model and he’s explaining how all the vital points are laid out but he’s struggling because my hands are dipping a little too low below his belt and squeezing his neck a bit too firmly

vital points (kabru of utaya x reader)

wc. 1.5k

cw. romantic/sexual tension, nothing explicit

No one in Kabru's party is a particularly skilled dungeon crawler. Despite all efforts it seems his party is always taken out before they can do any true exploring of the dungeon's secrets.

Therefore, being the excellent leader that he is, Kabru has decided to take it upon himself to give out combat lessons. And it's only logical he starts with you first. Mickbell has his own specialties--poison darts and all. Kabru's not sure if he'd even be interested in lessons. And even if he was, would he even pay attention? It's probably not worth the trouble. Kuro is well, Kuro. What part of that demihuman's body isn't a weapon? His sharp senses make him one of, if not the most well-equipped members of his team. It's the main reason Kabru keeps a demi-human, one partly monster, like him around. Aside from the fact he's a package deal with the half-foot. Kabru's sure Kuro could make it throigh the dungeon on his own.

Daya is the second best. Strong. Capable. A weapons expert. She can take a hit and throw it back with ease. Rin and Holm are the magic users. Combat would likely be wasted on them. Rin's frail, but she already has similar knowledge to Kabru as she grew up with the same foster mom. And Holm...likely wouldn't agree to lessons. He's maintained a commitment to do no harm to others unless absolutely necessary. Kabru's not going to try to convince him to learn his way around a weapon and how to maim unless it's completely critical.

However. That leaves you.

You're different. Not entirely useless, but not entirely skilled on the other hand. Kabru's still trying to figure you out. Quite the enigma you are to him. He's come to the conclusion you're a jack-of-all-trades type of figure. For now, at least. You don't exactly take away from the party. But you're not hindering their descent, either. It's intriguing from an anthropological standpoint, yet infuriating from his stance as leader of his party.

But again, he wonders what skills you do possess, exactly. Everyone has their specialties, be it what it may. He wonders if combat might be something he can help you succeed--no, excel--in. He'll bring out the best in you via this method, and come to learn more about you in the process. Two birds with one stone. In the back of Kabru's mind, his own desire rears its head. The desire to be close to you. He's not exactly sure why or where this desire stems from. However...it can be satiated via a combat lesson. Three birds, he muses. You pique his interest in a variety of ways.

When it first comes to combat, jumping right in is never ideal. The first means of success comes from mapping out vital points. The human anatomy is a good start. Dungeons are full of demi-human and human adversaries alike. It's important to know them for one to defend themselves, unarmed or not. And these vitals seem to remain uniform among all creatures.

Head. Neck. Abdomen. Groin.

The four major sensitive groups one should know. He's starting small for now. Too much information could be overwhelming. It wouldn't be worth to teach you so much at once that

You're in front of him now, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Not in a literal sense. A metaphorical one. Well, your eyes are bright. He's always liked them. Not that it matters. Why is he thinking of this?

Kabru shakes his head a little, trying to steady his thoughts. Back to business.

"The first lesson in defense is understanding anatomy." Kabru muses, looking through his notes. There's no real time to fetch a book at this point. Or a model. Kabru's not necessarily gifted at art either. Not that a simple drawing would do.

He can serve in its place, as an example. A physical specimen would be the most insightful. You're probably a hands on learner, he decides. It's definitely not as an excuse to have you close to him. Definitely not. Not that he's entirely against that, though.

"Starting with the head. There's plenty of areas you can exploit there," Kabru points to his eyes. You follow suit. They're such a striking blue. Hypnotic. Mesmerizing.

"Eyes are the easiest to access. They're the first thing humans notice. You can predict someone's movements by figuring out where they're looking towards. It'll likely show you where they intend to attack." Kabru leans forward absentmindedly. "They're also sensitive. Even a simple move can distract or blind an opponent. Don't be afraid to strike there. Even though Mickbell might tease you for fighting dirty. All's fair in dungeon combat."

You chuckle and agree. Kabru's pleased his attempt at humor landed. It seems to lighten the air around you two.

"Next, the neck. There's two main points here you want to recognize." Kabru takes your hand, offering a reassuring smile as he does so, then presses it to the underside of his neck. They're a little cold, you note. And almost dainty. His hands aren't particularly calloused. He must take good care of them.

He guides your index finger to the skin on the outside of his neck. His skin carries a hint of heat to it.

"This is where the external jugular is located. It's one of the most important veins in the body. It carries blood to the head and neck area. Just a simple cut can slice through it. A simple turn of the head is enough to expose it."

He moves your hand more inward, now pressing slightly into the divot close to his trachea. His chest rises slowly, then falls. There's a faint beating under the skin now. Kabru's pulse.

"The internal jugular is here. If you can land a hit here, do it. You'll have to go deep and make sure you slice clean through the skin. It can disable a foe in seconds."

You try to keep your mind on the lesson. But his skin is remarkably soft. And smooth. You're close enough now to count his stubble. Well, you would if there was any to count. How does Kabru manage to keep himself so well groomed on dungeon excursions. Maybe you could count those thick, lovely eyelashes inste--

A simple call of your name breaks your thoughts. Not only were you not paying attention, but your fingerpads dig slightly into his skin. You struggle to find an explanation for your absentmindedness, then decide to pin it on you being hyperfocused.

Kabru, ever so forgiving, decides to move on without further question. Internally, you thank him for preserving your dignity. What's left of it. You're almost certain he's caught onto the fact your no longer solely doing this for the sake of combat knowledge.

"The abdomen hosts a majority of the body's necessary organs. The lung's can be pierced easily through the ribcage." Deft fingers lead you across the expanse of his chest. You're a bit shocked. Without his armor, Kabru's a lot smaller. Being revived time and time again has left its mark on his body. There's still power to him though. His muscle isn't all gone. You can surmise your leader has quite the lithe build.

Kabru continues to go on, despite you not listening. He likes to talk about anatomy, for one. But he's also trying to hide his own amusement at your reaction to touching him. You're admiring him in your own way. Which means you may harbor similar feelings towards him that he has towards you. Interesting. He takes note of this as your hands are guided lower.

Stomach. Liver. Kidneys.

And last is the groin.

Kabru's puzzled. He didn't really consider how this would play out in his hands-on anatomy lesson. Desire clouded his mind earlier, but now that he can peek through it...the realization of the situation sets in. How should he proceed? He can tell by your reactions you're fascinated by the lesson at the least. Kabru's sure you need this lesson. The groin is probably the most effective place to punch, kick, or slice in a pinch. As inappropriate as it is, in general and a workplace sense, he still wants you to keep touching him.

His hands leave yours. He's leaving it up to you, now. Whether you choose to continue or not will tell him what he wants to know--if he's been going too far or not.

"The groin is the last area you should become familiar with. I'm sure you're aware, but it's particularly sensitive." Kabru's not sure whether to look at you or your hands. He goes for the latter when your fingers trail over his belt, threatening to move towards the linen of his pants below.

"The genital area, more specifically. No matter the sex. A swift punch, kick. Even just grasping it. You can get an advantage in combat. Either as a distraction, or...."

Your fingers keep going lower. He's sure you aren't paying attention, now far too invested in your personal lesson on anatomy. There's a slight bulge in his pants. It's stiffens when you ghost over it.

Kabru's breath stifles. He swallows his spit like it's cement.

"A-and that's the gist of it."

Kabru stutters for the first time ever, you think. Your curious hands flee his body as a result, now returning to your sides. That was...exhilirating. So simple, yet...you can tell the two of you are craving more.

"Uh," You're first to break the awkward tension. "Thank you, Kabru. For the lesson. It was very informative." A certain tone lingers on the last word. Kabru can practically see the air quotations around it. His dark skin deepens with color. For once in your span of knowing him, Kabru's eyes don't tear into you.

"Right. It's my duty as your leader, after all. Thank you for listening. We can go back to the others now."

Kabru is known for his penchant for understanding others. Almost being able to predict their next moves with ease. However, your next move is wildly unpredictable, tossing out everything he once assumed about your attitude and demeanor.

You ask when the next lesson is. You'd like to study anatomy-perhaps his anatomy, more thoroughly.

And what he also doesn't expect is his eagerness to respond. The next lesson can't come soon enough.

[starcurtain]

Hey! I apologize if this question has been asked before since it seems like a pretty obvious one, but where do you think the idea of Aventurine being a sex slave came from? Other than the obvious factor of it being something fun for the fandom to mess around with, I mean.

It's something I kind of took for granted as being true before playing his quest, but after finishing it I realized there wasn't really any indication. The only thing I can really think of is his master's comments about him having a good body. Is there anything in his behavior you can think of that would lead to this conclusion if it wasn't a popular fan interpretation already/kind of just an easy conclusion to reach with a slave character?

(also kind of related but what do you think of the idea that he sleeps around/with his clients to make deals? he's obviously willing to sexualize himself with the boob window, but that doesn't necessarily mean he goes further.)

As far as I can tell, the idea that Aventurine was involved in sexual slavery comes from three (maybe four) places:

First, the comment from the master about Aventurine's appearance. People were holding this comment up as refutable proof that Aventurine was used in sexual slavery on top of being tossed into the Hunger Games; however, the response from other players on this interpretation, especially the Chinese side of the fandom, was very mixed, with a lot of people pointing out that the context in the game probably meant the slave master was talking about Aventurine's ability to attract attention from fans watching the literal Sigonian Hunger Games, rather than having a direct sexual-slavery connotation.

Second, the comment from Sparkle about stripping naked and getting on his knees for Sunday. This one has way more implication in English than I think it might for an Eastern audience, actually. In English, this pretty much sounds like Sparkle saying Aventurine trades sexual favors for success in his gambles. However, I suspect the original intention in Chinese was more about humiliation. Western audiences don't have as much history with honor-based prostration, i.e. accepting corporal humiliation as a form of reconciliation that Eastern audiences might be more familiar with. And in any case, Sparkle is Sparkle. She probably just went for the lowest blow she could think of here.

Third, the general assumption that if Sigonian slaves were being chained, branded, beaten, sent to death matches, etc., it seems logical that they would also be taken advantage of in other ways. I honestly think this is probably the fairest take--many, many real slaves around the world faced (and still face!) sexual abuse, so if slaves from Sigonia were treated so poorly you could make them fight to the death for entertainment, it stands to reason they were probably also not safe from other forms of assault. We also have no idea what happened to Kakavasha in any of the years between his being a tiny child fleeing the massacre and then being purchased as a slave as a late-teens-early-twenties person. That's a very long time for a child to have to survive on their own on an extremely hostile planet and not face risks of all kinds or end up needing to do unspeakable things to survive. So I think this is at least not that far-fetched, although it's important to say there's nothing in the game that directly confirms this.

And fourth: I read a tweet semi-recently that stated that one of the Chinese (or maybe it was Japanese) names for a quest Aventurine was involved in was actually a reference to a book about a teenage sexual assault survivor. However, when I tried to verify this myself, I couldn't find any quest Aventurine was in that was based on a book about sexual assault in either English, Chinese, or Japanese. It's possible I just missed something, but I'm taking this one with a bit of a grain of salt currently, since I can't confirm it personally.

Regarding your other question, about whether I think Aventurine sleeps around to make deals...

I definitely think he does not, for one major reason.

First, I will admit that Aventurine is definitely willing to use his appearance to his advantage. This is pretty obvious. He wears incredibly flashy clothes, baths himself in cologne, overloads on glittering golden jewels, and absolutely calls attention to his appearance when working with clients.

We see him actively doing this in his Moment Among the Stars video, where he is clearly using his looks as an equal tool (to his wealth), to daze his target.

It's not an accident that he says things like "Use me as you wish," with all the explicit connotations preserved. The implication is there. However, unless he was absolutely backed into a corner, I think that implication is all it will ever be.

The reason I think this is that the devs go out of their way to give Aventurine three fairly noticeable physical behaviors in his in-game scenes:

For one, he has some of the most closed off body language of any character in the game.

Aventurine's default conversation pose is arms crossed directly and tightly in front of himself. This is like "Defensive Body Language 101." By crossing your arms, you put a symbolic barrier between yourself and the person you're speaking to, and also ensure that your hands are up and available in case you actually need to physically defend yourself.

Virtually all of Aventurine's conversations take place from this stance, no matter who he is speaking to (from the Trailblazer all the way to Topaz). He deliberately closes his pose off and tightens up his silhouette, which just sends a glaring "Don't touch me" message.

This closing off is also blatantly apparent when you compare it to the deliberately open poses he strikes while trying to make himself seem accessible to others (like tempting clients) or seem powerful (to intimidate):

Complementing this habit of closing himself off is a second noticeable aspect of his body language: He frequently avoids eye contact to the point that he even holds conversations while entirely facing away from the person he's speaking to.

I might be a bit lenient and say maybe he's doing this to on purpose to be mysterious, whoo~~ But... in all honestly, he just does this with everyone, even with Ratio while trying to talk about an actual important issue (wanting to look into Acheron's real identity). Hell, even the fake Aventurine does it to himself!

We can even say that wearing the rose-tinted glasses in the first place is another intentional barrier, one Aventurine deliberately removes in specific moments to give people the (false) impression that he's "letting them in" to his circle:

Now, this might be a bit more complicated in Aventurine's case, because eye contact has a whole extra meaning when eyes are the defining trait of your species and come with particularly challenging racial stereotypes. So it may be that Aventurine is simply used to conducting conversation while looking away to minimize racial prejudice against his eyes' unique appearance.

However, I'd also argue that the devs deliberately turned his entire model away in cutscene after cutscene to create a clear sense of being inaccessible, unapproachable, and unwilling to engage in the physical intimacy of standing closely, directly facing, and staring at his conversation partners.

While he faces away, he controls both the figurative and the literal direction of conversation, forcing people to keep their eyes on him while he is free to move as he pleases. Over and over again, it just says "I want to be the one in control. I'm not afraid to show my back to you, but you are not welcome to come near me."

And, in fact, that's a third aspect of his character's body language that I am sure the devs did not include accidentally: More so than other characters, many of Aventurine's conversations are conducted from weirdly far distances. Like, half the time he's talking, he's standing all the way on the opposite side of the room!

This habit of speaking from a-larger-than-normal distance is apparent in the first scene with Himeko...

And then in just about every other conversation too:

The bubble is twenty feet in every direction.

Like yes, he does approach and have conversations like a normal person... sometimes... But it is significantly more noticeable with Aventurine than with other characters that he often conducts whole conversations--even with his allies--from a distance. Just genuinely weirdly far apart.

Leaving space for Gaiathra, I guess.

And it's because these significant decisions were made with Aventurine's in-game body language that, when he deliberately alters his own behavior, it is instantaneously noticeable.

In 2.0, he closes the distance, the glasses come off, and he gets directly up in the Trailblazer's face.

It's uncomfortable not just because the player is suddenly being loomed over, but because this behavior has already been subconsciously established for the player as out of character for Aventurine.

The barriers the character himself was putting up are deliberately stripped away so that he can use physicality and demanding eye contact to intimidate his target. He has to reverse his own normal body language in order to come across as domineering (and, I guess if you're into that, appealing in a domineering manner).

And ummmm, just a tiny aside here because I can't resist:

This does mean that when the game goes out of its way to demonstrate Aventurine altering his own normal habit of distant and defensive body language, it is absolutely intentional.

Yes, this is a Ratiorine post in disguise. There literally isn't any other character in the game that Aventurine is shown being comfortable standing so close to and interacting with in this manner. This doesn't occur in every one of their scenes, but Ratio is the only character that this happens with repeatedly. It's not an accident that the devs literally added "They were walking side-by-side" as flavor text.

But look, I'll be fair: There's a great example of this in Aventurine's scene with Acheron too, where he closes the distance and attempts to make eye contact with her--seeking her guidance and closeness--and she is actually the one stepping away, speaking with her back turned, demonstrating her power and control (and issues with connection!) in that scene.

Anyway, this was a whole longggg tangent into analyzing Aventurine's body language, but my point is that, overall, the devs deliberately adjusted his model's actions in-game to give the impression of a person who clearly wants to be in control of every interaction he has with other people, who insists on distance over intimacy, and whose stances and habits suggest that he is significantly less accessible and open than his "Use me as you wish" motto might suggest.

Long story longer, I think that there is almost zero chance Aventurine is willingly ceding control over himself or the actions expected of him to anyone he isn't 100% comfortable with, and I think that using physical intimacy of any kind would be an absolute last resort for him. Frankly, he comes across as more likely to shoot himself in the foot than let someone he doesn't trust lay hands on him.

To me, he reads very much as "You may look, but you may not touch."

[sleepyhollands]

false god

PAIRING harry styles x reader

SUMMARY harry’s having trouble finding enough time to spend with y/n, even after she drops everything and joins him on tour. when they talk, they only seem to argue. when they don’t, they only seem to fuck.

WARNINGS she’s an angsty one— lots of miscommunication, poorly executed arguments, and general couple fighting content. BUT!! there is lots of really cute fluff at the end :> also, beware of smutty content such as soft!dom harry (my favorite), oral (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), unprotected p in v, a brief hesitation to get naked on y/n’s part, an even more brief mention of bondage play, harry leaves like one love bite, and tooth-rotting holding each other while having sex content. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT 5.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE fun fact this was supposed to be done months ago and then literally everything that could have gotten in my way did just that. but she’s here now!! writing this was a challenge but i feel so good about it now that it’s complete and i can’t wait for you all to read it. please lmk you enjoyed by leaving feedback and/or reblogging!! special thanks to @cherryjuiceblues for beta reading for me <3 ily <3

LOVER SELECTION one-shots here.

copyright © sleepyhollands. all rights reserved. || my masterlist.

“harry, it doesn’t matter if—”

“it does to me!”

“hey, there are two people in this relationship, you know.”

“yeah, an‘ one of ’em feels like right shit on what’s meant to be the greatest tour of his life! doesn’t that mean anythin‘ to you?”

“of course it does, i just—”

“really? ’cause y’could’ve fooled me, love.”

“harry, i swear, if you interrupt me one more time, i’m booking the next flight home.” 

… tour had been going really well for harry! he was playing back to back sold out shows in some of the biggest cities in the world, with adoring fans lining up by the thousands, itching to hear him sing live. he’d already had some really sweet interactions on stage, and no crazy mishaps had occurred (he was especially proud of himself for having ensured everyone’s safety so far). just in the last week alone, he’d been nominated for three different awards for his newest album and performances. anyone could see that he was living a dream— the dream, really. the kind that only comes true once in a blue moon. 

and yet… tour had been going really poorly for harry. now, he doesn’t like to complain about much; he knows just how fortunate he is, and actively tries to see the bigger picture when frustrated. but it was really hard to zoom out of his particular situation when he was so zeroed in on a particular aspect that had been bugging him for weeks— y/n. 

don’t get him wrong! y/n herself wasn’t what was bothering him. it was more so her presence, and his… lack thereof. 

if there’s one thing harry prides himself on more than anything, it’s being an attentive lover— even in the most innocent and platonic of ways. he tries his absolute hardest to be a supportive brother, a considerate son, a (hopefully) decent role model to those who look up to him, and especially a present, loving boyfriend. and for the most part, he’s just as successful in those aspects as he is in his career. in fact, y/n regularly speaks of how harry treats her like she hangs the stars in the sky just for him, how he makes her feel like the most special girl in the world. 

but this tour was taking its toll, and harry was taking it out on y/n. he’s never been great at communicating everything in the most positive of ways— that’s where he turns to songwriting— and he’d let his emotions get the better of him after letting them build up for the past couple of weeks. he wasn’t proud of himself, but he needed an outlet. 

harry didn’t mean to start the fight. but when y/n asked him where he’d been after a last minute management meeting following that night’s show kept him an extra half hour later than he said he’d be, it was like all the frustration just erupted. inadequacy is one of his least favorite feelings (next to loneliness), and being a barely-there or only-sometimes-there boyfriend couldn’t be more of a trigger for that particular emotion. 

now here they were, vexation filling the tour bus around them like a fog they could barely see through, inhaling it with every breath and releasing it back into the atmosphere surrounding them. harry huffed out a sigh, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he angrily looked out the window of the tour bus to distract himself for a moment, having to mentally step away from the argument at hand, even if just for a few seconds. watching as the dark streets outside shined with the headlights of other vehicles, he found himself wishing he were in one of them. it would be nice to be in a car alone, nothing but his thoughts and some music to keep him company. 

but he had real company. she was standing not six feet away from him, emulating his defensive position with her arms drawn across her own chest, jaw clenching and relaxing every other moment. when he finally turned to look at her again, he exhaled loudly. 

“we were crazy to think that this could work,” he mumbled, barely audible to y/n, but she was able to make it out. 

even when they fought, the girl seemed to be in sync with him, inhaling deeply, subconsciously countering his previous expulsion of breath. the yin to his yang.

“what are you talking about?”

harry groaned at her words. how didn’t she get this? “y/n, i’m never around! i wake up when you’re still asleep, prepare for the day, go to the venue, help set up the stage, sound check, rehearse a bit, and then ’m off t’go get ready for a show that lasts two hours. almost each night! i come back exhausted and aching to sleep! where d’you see yourself fitting in there?”

when y/n realized it was her turn to speak again, she said, “first off, do you think you could please calm down a little? i can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

his eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“when you’re acting like a child, harry! i mean, for god’s sake, i’m not nine! i can handle hanging out on my own for a few days at a time and just getting to cuddle with you at night until you have a day off. it’s not like i don’t have things to do throughout the day, too.”

while harry tended to say things he didn’t exactly believe in the heat of the moment, y/n meant every word she uttered. she really was content relaxing in the tour bus or a hotel room taking care of work on her laptop, catching up on new episodes of her favorite shows, or even going out to explore whatever new city they were in by herself. harry had breaks between show days once or twice a week, and the thought of having those days to themselves was enough to sate her desire to spend time with him. it annoyed her that he didn’t understand that, as she’d never been the clingy type and was always very self-sufficient. 

“oh, i’m acting like a child, am i? right, i didn’t realize that wanting t’be present in my relationship with my girlfriend was childish, but hey, you learn something new every day, i s’pose.” 

oh, y/n was really starting to seethe now. letting her arms fall to her sides with a frustrated puff, she began again. 

“god, harry, you’re not childish for wanting to spend time together! i’m saying you need to realize that i’m perfectly capable of waiting for your days off to really spend time with you. you’re acting like we can’t function without each other!”

“the whole idea of you comin‘ on tour with me was to have this time together, y/n,” harry fired back. “if we’re barely going to get to see each other anyways, then what’s the bloody point?”

…

harry might have spoken too soon. at least, that’s what he thought as he laid overtop y/n on the tour bus couch, because now the point might very well be getting to just feel her lips on his every now and again. 

it was late; harry had just come back from a show. usually, he’s too tired to do anything but crash onto a cloud-like mattress after all the jumping around he does on that stage, but this time all he wanted was his girl. it’d started innocently enough, with harry pulling y/n into his lap on the worn, red leather of the couch. his hands roamed along her hips and down to her waist beneath her soft hoodie (which wasn’t even technically her’s, but is it really theft if harry just leaves his clothes lying around for her to nab?), exploring the soft expanse of her skin, not straying any lower. her own hands were hidden in his curls, lightly scratching at his scalp in what she hoped were soothing motions. 

harry knew he was done for once he initiated the kiss. tentative at first, he pressed light pecks along the corner of her mouth, quick and feathery, like he didn’t really care if he got to kiss her so much as he got to hold her, or simply be with her. but soon, the eagerness set in, like he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d get to have her was, and suddenly he was capturing her mouth with his own, barely giving her a chance to breathe as he tasted her. while harry never really believed in a higher power, he could have sworn he found religion in her lips. 

things only escalated from there. it wasn’t long before harry was wrapping his muscular arms around y/n, so tight that he accidentally squeezed too hard, earning a squeak from the girl. he muttered a hushed but sincere “’m sorry, darling,” to compensate. one hand supported her head, the other splayed across her back as he laid her against the cushions so that he could keep loving on her on the way down. he relished her little whimpers that she tried so hard to suppress, grinning against her jawbone, her neck, any skin he came across on his journey south to more pressing territory. 

harry didn’t bother removing y/n’s hoodie, opting instead to push it up past her naval in favor of gaining access to the waistband of her fluffy sleep shorts. he felt her hands tighten their grip ever so slightly on his shoulders as he hooked his fingers under it, relaxing again when he rubbed the pad of his thumb delicately along her hipbone, reminding her it was only him. 

it was a thing with y/n. she loved harry, of course she did, and she trusted him more than anyone. and maybe it was the way she was brought up, or perhaps a few poor experiences with sexual partners in the past, but there was always a fleeting moment of anxiety before shedding the clothing barrier before sex. like dipping a toe into a cold lake and hesitating a little, then ultimately deciding that jumping in wouldn’t be so bad. 

harry never pried. the first few times they’d slept together, he noticed her nerves, and asked her if she was sure she wanted to continue. y/n had said yes each time, and after a while, he stopped asking. but still, whenever he noticed that brief nervous shift, harry gave her a chance to change her mind. 

this time, he bided his time by sponging tender kisses right above where his fingers were still half hidden under her shorts. he wanted her to feel safe, and taken care of, and he hoped his gentle touches and even breathing could remedy her anxiety. as he waited, harry’s mind drifted…. he was getting lost in the feel of her soft skin, its dips and curves and blemishes. he thought about her waist, how his hands fit so perfectly against its sides; her tummy, and how the muscles there jolted when he tickled them; and her hips… god, if y/n’s body was a church, her hips could be the altar. harry was ready to say a prayer right then, thanking every higher power for blessing him with this gorgeous girl—

“harry?” his love’s melodic voice interrupted his thoughts, and harry’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his nose continuing to skim just above her navel. “um… you can keep going. please.” 

the corner of harry’s mouth quirked upward, and y/n could have sworn she caught a glimpse of mischief in the jade of his irises, but it was gone in an instant, as he wasted no time in stripping her of her bottoms.

…

“god, h-harry,” panted y/n, her grip on his curls constricting with every lick to her core, “’s so good, oh—”

“would feel even better if y’stopped trying t’run away from me, wouldn’t it? don’t wanna have to tie you down.”

y/n couldn’t help it! it wasn’t her fault if harry’s tongue was just too good and her body’s natural reaction was to attempt to escape his grip for a little relief. if anything, he should be happy— they’d been at this for so long y/n lost count of the minutes, and after two toe-curling orgasms, one would think harry’s jaw could use a break. 

but that thought flew out the window when y/n remembered who she was metaphorically in bed with. 

“’m sorry…,” she whimpered, gripping the side of the couch cushion as her eyes squeezed shut.

“don‘ have to be sorry, darling,” harry mumbled against her folds, chin glistening with her arousal as he placed a soft kiss to y/n’s clit, making her jolt in his hold. he breathed a short laugh, adjusting his arms so that one held her upper thigh next to his head, while the other pinned her hips to the red leather, restricting her ability to move. “jus’ wanna make you feel as good as possible, is all. will y’let me?”

harry turned his head, nipping at the inside of the girl’s thigh, and she gasped at the brief assault on the softest skin of her body, now adorning the mark of his front teeth that she loved so much. she shuddered a breath as best she could, and harry could tell by the way her knuckles were turning white in their grip on the couch that she was trying her best to be good. feeling a twinge of guilt, he figured maybe he should offer her a second to breathe. y/n opened her eyes when she felt harry’s lips retreat from her aching cunt and the weight of his head rest against the love bite. 

“hey.”

y/n cast her gaze down upon the boy (who looked far too innocent, considering what they were doing) with his cheek laid on her inner thigh, stray hairs tickling her just a tad. playfulness swam in his eyes, but there was an underlying current of concern. 

“doin‘ okay?”

she nodded, gulping. harry noticed. 

“because we can take a break if you want to. just say the word, okay?”

“i will, i-i promise. but… can you please keep going?”

that was all he needed to get right back into it, only with even more fervor than before. when y/n reached her third and final peak of the night, her whole body shook, and harry had the pleasure of getting to watch as he helped her ride out her high. he almost came in his pants, rutting his hips into the sofa, moaning against her core, begging her give it t’me, love, that’s it.

harry pulled back when she started pushing at his head, whining for relief as he gave one final lap at her core. he grinned at her fucked-out figure as he wiped his face on his forearm, then took her hand that had been grasping at the cushion in one of his, bringing the back of it to his lips for a gentle kiss. 

“feel all right, baby?”

“mhm,” she hummed between heaving breaths, glancing at what she assumed could only be a quite painful stiffy between his legs as he sat up, “do you?”

harry followed her line of vision, offering her a chuckle and an i’m fine, using his free hand to smooth his thumb along her brow. before he could even register it, her palm slipped from the grip of his other hand and traveled down to rub against the bulge in his pants, earning a sharp hiss from her boyfriend and a deep groan soon after. 

“why don’t you let me repay the favor?”

…

harry was pretty sure y/n was asleep. if she wasn’t, she was definitely on the verge— her breaths were deep and even as she laid in his hold, her head on his chest, ear pressed overtop his steadily beating heart. and who could blame her? the evening’s activities had worn her out, which meant harry had done his job properly. he was more than happy to be wide awake, running his fingertips up and down her arm, inhaling the sweet scent of her fruity body wash while she dreamt if it meant she was rested and content and happy. 

moments like these made harry think they could get away with it. the long hours spent apart, the hectic schedules, the fighting. sure, it was tough, and yes, they both had a temper that rivaled one another’s for the ‘least amount of patience award’ on any given day. but every missing ounce of patience was compensated by double its weight in love. they loved one another enough to make it work. 

they could make this work. 

right?

…

“jesus, harry, how do you think that makes me feel? you’d honestly rather i not be here? are you actually that insecure?”

“c’mon, y/n, you know tha’s not what i meant.”

y/n felt like they were going around in circles, having the same fight over and over again. only this time, the couple found themselves in a beautiful hotel room, with a beautiful view overlooking a beautiful city. and instead of getting to enjoy it, y/n was glaring at harry though the vanity mirror, his back facing her as he tamed his wild curls for tonight’s show… which he had to leave for in just a few short minutes. 

the balled up fist on y/n’s hip flew up to her face, fingers flexing to pinch at the bridge of her nose as her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. 

“i can’t believe this. i dropped everything to be here with you— to support you on the most incredible tour of your career— and instead of being happy i’m here as opposed to the alternative of thousands of miles away in a different time zone for months, you’re sitting here bitching about being too tired?” 

harry sighed deeply, only infuriating y/n more. “you’re missing the point. ’s not that i don’t want you here, or just that ’m too tired. ’s knowing you’re sitting around by yourself, waiting on me while ’m working, when you could be out with friends and family, or sleeping in the comfort of your own bed—”

“that you’re not in!” the girl loudly interjected— how didn’t he get this? “i put all those things aside for us, har. it’s not like i’m leaving my life behind for years. christ’s sake, the tour is over in two months! but somehow, being away from my home and routine is easier than being in the same room as you right now.”

harry contemplated his next words carefully, turning them over in his head a few times and editing any obvious mistakes, leaving the pair of them to marinate in suffocating silence for a good ten or so seconds before he finally spoke. 

“y/n… i can’t be a good boyfriend and a serious artist simultaneously, okay? not while ’m on tour. i can’t keep losing sleep over how well i’m balancing—”

“okay, you know what, harry? you know what? maybe you should just leave me, then. wouldn’t that be easier? you’d be able to sleep better at night, right?”

they both knew she didn’t mean it, though harry couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to hear. but she was pissed, and harry knew better than to try to reason with her when she was like this. 

when she realized he wasn’t going to respond, instead electing to stare brokenly into the mirror, she continued. “you know damn well how hard i work for this relationship. i’ve flown across the oceans that have separated us, driven for hours just to get to see you for, like, one— hell, i’ve skipped some of my most important classes so we could go to shitty dive bars in the middle of the day together! yeah, remember that? i love you, okay? people who love each other are supposed to be grateful for any time they have together at all, no matter if it’s every day or once a year.”

y/n took a breath, finally cooling down after her heated rant. she took a moment to take in the sight of her boyfriend, dressed so vibrantly, feeling anything but. 

“they warned us about times like this,” the defeated tone of y/n’s whisper was enough to finally get harry to say something. 

“what was that, love?”

the girl swallowed the little saliva in her mouth before speaking up a mere decibel. “remember what my parents said? ‘the road gets hard, and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith,’” she imitated her father’s deep voice, and if not for the circumstances, harry might’ve laughed. 

they weren’t lost, were they?

…

if there was such a thing as heaven on earth, y/n is pretty sure she’s been there. in fact, she goes there whenever harry so much as touches her. 

when he kisses her shin as they lay watching a movie together on the couch, pulling her leg up off his lap and craning his neck downward to meet it in the middle. when he runs his fingers down the bridge of her nose, making an exaggerated boop! noise once he reaches the tip, gently pressing against it like a doorbell. and especially when he has her like this. 

harry’s arms felt secure wrapped around y/n’s torso, her hips moving back and forth atop his own. the feeling of his cock twitching and shifting inside her while her nipples rub deliciously along his chest made her dizzy, like she had just gotten off a loopy rollercoaster. harry’s back arched just slightly off the plush mattress of their hotel suite’s bed when y/n gave a little bounce, arms constricting around her and forcing a pleased sigh to fall from her lips. 

the girl hid her face in the crook of his neck, and harry could feel each and every hot breath against his skin. lost in pleasure, he let his large hands migrate from her hips down to her bum, where he gave a small pinch to the flesh, eliciting a yelp and a small jolt from y/n. 

“sorry, baby,” he laughed, “couldn’t help m’self.” harry gently flattened his palm against the now tender skin, rubbing there softly in an attempt to soothe the little ache he left. when he felt satisfied, he shifted to rubbing between her shoulder blades instead, his other arm still wrapped around her lower back as she returned to her previous rhythm above him. 

y/n could tell harry was enjoying himself. his groans alone were evidence enough, not to mention the little utterances of “shit, darling,” and “so good t’me,” he frequently let slip. but perhaps he just needed a bit more to reach his high, because without warning his hands were on her thighs, gripping tightly as he began to thrust upwards into her at a much quicker pace than she had originally set— it had her seeing stars in a matter of mere seconds. 

“oh, god— harry,” y/n gasped out, gripping the edge of the plush pillow by harry’s ear. she could feel him hitting that special spot inside her with every snap of his hips, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her head, muscles tightening all throughout her body. 

“almost there, angel… just…,” harry’s thrusts began to slow, becoming more deliberate, and now he was moving her hips to grind against his each time they met, sending y/n over the edge. 

y/n’s moans were long and drawn out as she came, body spasms making her hold on more tightly to harry for stability. she didn’t even hear him finish, too busy reveling in the euphoric feeling of cumming in his arms, surrounded by warmth and love and feeling the safest she had in a long while. 

it was moments like these where y/n couldn’t fathom how she’s ever been upset with harry. he was perfect, lying here under her unsteady body, breathing deeply not only to catch his breath, but to take in the smell of her. she wanted this for eternity. and if this was heaven, then surely hell was when they fought with each other. 

…

y/n thought she was dreaming at first, not used to being roused from her slumber by anything other than her well-timed alarm and the occasional bark of a dog on a nearby street. she expected that after blinking the sleep from her eyes a few times, the vague image of her favorite boy would dissipate, and she’d fall back into the comfort of her warm pillow. but when she squeezed them shut once, then twice, and her boyfriend’s face was still a foot away from her’s, brushing his fingertips up her nose and along her brow, she set aside her exhaustion in exchange for confusion.

now, harry knew better than to wake y/n up. in most circumstances, she’d tell him off, or gently kick at him to get him to leave her alone. he found it rather endearing, and it’s one of the reasons he’s so protective of her in her sleep— always holding her close to keep her safe, shielding her eyes from any light intruding on the space she lay, making sure both their phones were set to ‘do not disturb.’ but he had to make an exception, just this once. 

“darling,” she barely registered his whisper, “wake up f’me, please?”

a whine fell from y/n’s lips, her eyes scrunching shut as she turned her body away from him, which harry knew was code for let me sleep, for fuck’s sake! a smile graced his lips at the action, jotting down a mental note to make this up to her later. 

compensating for the newfound distance between them, harry scooted closer to her. he kneeled on the floor next to the bed, close to the pillows she rested upon. he laid one arm against the mattress, perching his chin on the back of his wrist. using his free hand, he continued to brush his fingertips lightly against his love’s cheek, her jaw— all along her face, really. god, her loves her face so much.  

“please, baby?”

harry had just come back from one of his best performances yet— the crowd’s energy was unmatched, the chemistry between him and his band members was palpable, and he’d managed to not get hit with any flying objects all night! but what really did it for him was the fan project he was surprised with at the end of the show. thousands of people in the room wore light-up bracelets that shone pink and blue during one of his favorite songs, ‘love of my life.’ if harry’s heart had been any more full in that moment, it might’ve exploded right there in his chest. 

he had been on cloud nine for a moment. but soon, realization washed over him in a way that squeezed at his lungs, stealing his breath for a second. the love of his life was somewhere miles away, probably sitting in their hotel room watching a comfort film, oblivious to anything he was feeling on that stage. he just wanted to go home to her and gush about what had happened, and how he wished she’d been there, and how it made so much sense that it would happen during ‘love of my life’ because it was the perfect representation of the amount of love he had for his, and how if she’d have been there, he would have looked directly at her and smiled the whole time. 

it made him realize how bloody stupid he was.

in retrospect, the conversation he’d needlessly just woken y/n up for could have waited until morning. but then harry wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he didn’t tell her he was sorry right away. 

a groan sounded through the room, followed by the ruffling of bedsheets as the girl turned back over to glare annoyedly at harry. he let out a soft laugh at her behavior. 

“’m sorry, baby. know you jus‘ wanna sleep right now, but ’s it okay if we talk for a mo‘?”

“now?” y/n asked in a gravelly voice.

“now, m‘ love.”

with a soft sigh, she relented, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her knuckles. harry caught the motion, bringing his hands up to pull hers away from her face. he didn’t like when y/n did that, as she always managed to do it too roughly. instead, he held her smaller hands in his own, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 

“what is it?” y/n asked through a yawn. harry looked at her for a moment— really looked at her— before responding.

“i’m sorry.”

it took her a moment to register his words. “for waking me up?”

harry laughed that dreamy laugh she loved so much, and it almost made up for the fact that she was up at twelve thirty in the morning. “no, y’little minx. not for that. well, yes, for that, but that’s not what i meant.”

“what are you sorry for, then?” 

harry looked at her with an expression y/n couldn’t place. it look him a few beats to speak. “i… i’m sorry i was such a prick before. i love that you’re here, an‘ that i get t’see you when i’m off. know you put aside a lot for this, an‘ i ruined it with m’own problems. didn’t mean to.”

y/n’s features softened at the boy’s sincerity, and if it weren’t for the warmth his hands encapsulating hers provided, she’d have reached out and held his face, peppering kisses over every dip and curve. 

“i know you didn’t…. i’m sorry, too.”

“for what?”

“i should’ve listened better. you were trying to tell me how you felt and i just disregarded it. that wasn’t very nice of me, either.”

the right corner of harry’s lips tugged upwards, morphing his mouth into that little half-grin y/n adored so much. “think we can get past it, darling?”

the girl scooted forward the tiniest bit, harry’s magnetic pull too hard to resist. though they were the only two in the room, she whispered, “i’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” harry liked how she made something so simple sound like a secret deal between them.

harry’s half-smile quickly quirked up, completing itself, and y/n swooned over his dimples and adorable bunny teeth. a short and quiet breath of a laugh fell past his lips, and for a moment, he just looked at her. but his gaze caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes, and his grin faltered a bit. 

y/n was always good at hiding her true emotions when she wanted to. not when it really mattered, don’t get her wrong— she wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit. but at dinner with her parents or meetings at work, she was able to pretend she wasn’t exhausted or annoyed. it never worked with harry, though. he could read and understand her like his own lyrics, and tonight was no exception. he saw through the mask of humor at her uncertainty, and a pang of guilt bloomed in his chest. 

he let out a sigh as he beckoned her forward by gently tugging her hands, still in his, toward him. “c’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling his love into his lap. y/n curled into him, knees tucked upward into her chest as his strong arms found purchase around her frame, holding her tenderly but securely. one of harry’s large hands held the back of her head against him, her ear right over his heart, listening to it beat for her. 

“love you like crazy. you’ve no idea.” he peppered light kisses to the top of her head, so softly she might’ve missed one or two. “thank you for comin‘ an‘ s’porting me. means the world, honestly.” 

“i’m happy to be anywhere with you, har,” she replied in a voice honey-thick with sleep. “even if it’s just for a few minutes. always so happy to have you.”

harry closed his eyes, laying back into the pillows, bringing y/n down with him so that she was laying overtop his sturdy body, inhaling his every exhale. 

“you have me,” he said, though he was almost certain she didn’t hear him, likely already pulled into the void of sleep, drawn in by the comfort of harry’s arms, his smell, him. 

“you’ll always have me.”

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