#my first actual drawing w effort put into it in months

[milykins]

Hello my dear! ✨️

I was curious if you might be able to write a little something fun/fluffy with Mikey for this prompt:

"Sorry, you're just my type."

I'd love to see what you could come up with for this. Thank you!

🫂💖

Finally ready to post! I hope this doesn't disappoint. I had fun putting my own nerdy spin on this ask and putting it in my AU where they already live among humans just worked really well for this prompt. Thank you for it!

TW: None, set in an AU where they live in the city and have jobs/own businesses. Aged up, adult turtles

Special thanks to @sophiacloud28 for beta reading!

Just My Type

Mikey was kind of a big deal. He was the first of his brothers to go ‘public’ once they had made the decision to reveal themselves. Predictably, Leo had advised him to go about it carefully. Raph followed suit, and Donnie especially. Both were planning to take careful baby steps and advised Mikey to do the same.

Funny that they expected him to listen, did they even know him? Unsurprisingly, he went hard, very much putting himself out there. To him, the choice was easy. If they were to live among the humans, he needed to show them that they meant no harm. The incident at the police station was a painful reminder of how bad things could go and he was willing to do whatever it took to prevent that. Mikey was steadfastly dedicated to shifting humanity’s perspective from ‘monsters’ to ‘heroes’.

To his delight, the expressed reception was largely positive. He was very pleased that his efforts had paid off. Perhaps a little too well. Mikey ended up with a huge fanbase in a matter of months. His popularity exploded across social media and he even appeared on a few talk shows.

Opening his comic book store was huge. People camped outside with lineups around the block for the grand opening. The rush of customers and fans was so intense that Mikey actually had to call his brothers in for assistance. Raph had been more than happy to act as a bouncer for his little brother.

He was quickly becoming very familiar with the term ‘be careful what you wish for’. Our hero in orange was there. The constant fans demanding pictures, autographs, even trying to steal his mask… (he’d lost four so far) had been grating on him a little. He’d been wondering if his brothers were right in telling him he should’ve approached humanity more carefully. Leo certainly had no problem pointing it out. ‘You asked for this, Mikey. What did you expect?’

He couldn’t say. He’d just wanted what they all wanted. Acceptance. Now, it looked like he’d bitten of more than he could chew.

Then you came along.

He’d been watching the day you nervously approached the door. Carefully, you placed your hand on the door handle before abruptly drawing it back like it had been burned. Turning on your heel you left fast, caught up in your own mortification. Stifling a soft chuckle, Mikey went back to his work.

You proceeded to do this twice more over the coming days much to his growing amusement. He couldn’t help but be intrigued and was patiently waiting for the day you summoned enough courage to actually enter the store.

Obviously, you were a huge fan. He was flattered of course but he could tell something was different about you. Typically, his fans had no fear in approaching him and most had even less shame in throwing themselves at him. He found your hesitancy and careful approach to be endearing and a refreshing change.

His heart soared the day you finally summoned your courage and asked to be a part of his weekly one-shot D&D afternoon gaming sessions. Of course it was a resounding yes from him. He was perhaps a bit too enthusiastic as he was more than happy to include you.

It was a wonderful thing to see you blossom during the session. To see your confidence grow as you slowly came out of your own proverbial shell. You’d played before, he could tell. The adorable accent you put on as you fell into the role of playing your character nearly dropped him on the back of his shell. It was so cute. He delighted in the fact that you did not need much help in calculating your rolls either. He was really trying to tamp it down but he was already smitten. Soft, sweet, pretty and shy, but hiding this confident player underneath. You were just his type.

As the session came to a close, he felt a surge of pride upon being thanked by you. A wholly grateful smile on your face. Humbly accepting the praise, he secretly hoped this wasn’t the last he’d see of you. To his relief you shyly approached him after the game, not to ask for a picture or an autograph but to ask if he knew of any D&D groups accepting new members. Hope bloomed within him as he explained that actually there was one. His heart fluttered in his chest as he watched the excitement in your eyes grow. It was a done deal. You were invited to join his very exclusive, only reserved for family and close friends… D&D group.

Those sessions were the most enjoyable he’d ever had the pleasure of dming. Seeing you attend his games became the highlight of his week. You and he soon struck up a solid friendship and for once in his life, Mikey was trying his hardest not to come on too strong. He didn’t want to screw this up by any means. He wanted you to call the shots and was secretly hoping that you liked him as much as he liked you.

Oh, he was in deep. He began noticing the subtle nuances in your behaviour, little things unique only to you. How your cheeks flushed pink when something embarrassing happened or when he’d teased you in-game. Your expression of pure satisfaction and excitement as you rolled a perfect nat20 and your contradictory one of utter disappointment and dramatic woe when you rolled a nat1. He found himself craving these moments, just to see how you’ll react. Truthfully, he’d fudged at least one roll just so you’d have a success instead of a failure. He needed to see the look of pure joy on your face. He wanted to be the cause of that joy.

One day, he couldn’t help it. He had to ask you out. Saying he was nervous was an understatement. You’d think having such a huge fanbase would’ve prepared him for this but alas no. He was still a shy, stuttering mess when he’d quietly suggested dinner and a walk after.

At your soft, surprised yes, he nearly cheered with an overly enthusiastic fist pump. Instead, he tugged you in for a tentative hug and quietly told you how happy that would make him. He had to really hold back from kissing you as your faces grew close. Shyly, you pulled away first to tell him you’ll see him there. He watched you turn with a small wave and a tiny excited smile. You were so adorable it hurt.

The date itself seemed to be a success. He wanted you to be wined and dined, wanted you to feel special, like a princess. He tried to be an absolute gentleman while putting his best romantic foot forward. To his delight, you seemed to be having a wonderful time. If your wide smiles and soft bouts of laughter were any indication. By the time he was carefully holding your hand while walking with you through Central Park he’d thought he'd made it. Reading your body language and how you had glanced up to his face a few times while your cheeks flushed so prettily. He took the cue and leaned in for that once-in-a-lifetime first kiss. It was going to be perfect.

It was… until you pulled away at the last second. Mikey felt as though his heart had dropped into his stomach. Concern laced his features as he searched your face to find out where he’d gone wrong. Then you started talking, your voice stuttering and unsure.

“I’m sorry… I just… I didn’t think you really liked me like that…”

His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. “You… you don’t feel the same way… do you?” There was no hiding his disappointment this time. He watched your eyes widen as you struggled to pick your next words carefully.

Your tone changes then as you shake your head and then nod, stammering a bit. “Wait, wait, wait! No, I do! I do like you, Mikey… I just didn’t think you’d go for me, I’m nothing special… not like those fangirls of yours. Aren’t they more your type?”

This was the answer he’d least been expecting to hear. He’d been sure you were going to let him down easy… that your heart belonged to another… more human guy. Not a mutated turtle guy.

“Not my… you think that they…” His mind was absolutely blown. This gorgeous, sweet woman thought that she wasn’t good enough for him? That was it, he was in love.

“Sweetheart… sorry to disappoint you, you’re just my type. Exactly my type. You’re the only woman I want to be with. The one that knows the real me.” He gave you a truthful and tender smile as he carefully tucked an errant curl behind your ear.

This time, when he moved in for that kiss, there was no hesitation on your part. He wanted you to feel the joy and tenderness he poured into it, right down to your toes.

A tightening of your grip and a deepening of the kiss was all he needed to know that you did feel it. He’d found what most people had been searching for their entire lives. A deep connection you both shared in the depths of your souls. To heck with ‘types’ he just wanted you.

Until the next ask!

Taglist:

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

Please ask if you'd like to be added!

[platsicbeach]

a new brush really does change everything

[uncreativeuser27]

Hello! I haven’t posted anything for…a while now lmao but I HAVE been drawing. So, allow me to dump all my art in this post so I can disappear off the face of the Earth again because composing a good post is too much effort for my pathetic brain to handle /hj

I’ll try to put them in order of when they were made, but I’ll also group them into categories. The date as well as my signature can be found on all of the drawings (if you care lol)

This is a drawing I did for a friend of mine. It’s his original character, Mad Snake. Normally, I don’t like taking requests, but I genuinely enjoyed drawing this guy, so I didn’t mind it. He was a step out of my comfort zone, and I liked how he turned out!

Now, the Jaiden pieces! The first one was my idea that Jaiden started performing for Las Casualonas (but, like, as a singer or stage personality. She never actually did anything spicy). I also thought she and Melissa could have a really funny dynamic. Like some sort of rivalry for the audience’s attention/love.

The second picture, as it obviously states, is what I headcannon Jaiden looks like working for the federation. I had fun with her scythe (and if you pay close attention, you can see a little something in the reflection:])

And the third one is of Jaiden stretching w/ her wings. It’s also the most recent of this entire batch. Basically, I finally came up with a way that I liked to draw wings and had a sketch in my sketchbook of that pose, so I drew Jaiden. Her shirt intentionally comes down low in the back to make space for the wings, and her hands are out of frame because I didn’t want to draw them. Also, that one only took me about 2 and a half hours, where most of the other took from 6-8 hours, so…lol

The next pieces are an original work from 8th grade an the redraw two years later. It was an assignment that we had to read a novel and then make a trailer for it. I asked to make a drawing instead, and thus, this creation was born.

I changed a little bit, like putting two of the characters in the trees instead of a fading color behind them. Overall, they both took me three days and I’m really happy about how the redraw turned out.

This is Imp. Yes, he looks like SomethingElseYT, but I don’t care. I love him, and I was already attatched when I realized. I made a whole spread in my sketchbook for him (I ran out of images, so I didn’t include it here. Maybe another day) Also he serves no purpose other than being something I can doodle on random things and places. He doesn’t even have hands

This next one is a self-portrait in an outfit that I really liked! The original had my full name, but I blurred it for the sake of not wanting my full name on the internet (I’ve probably screwed up somewhere, but at least I’m trying :’)

And this last one is meant to be part of a collection, but I only made for Kenny. I want to draw all of the main four in South Park as teens, but I haven’t been able to think of poses and stuff for the others. It willl happen one day, but for now have this I guess

So, yeah. That was all the art that I wanted to share but haven’t had the motivation to actually put together posts for all of them. Hope you enjoyed my little display lmao

You probably won’t see for the next, like, couple of months because I’m really bad at posting. So, take this as my going away gift :D

[mrtodd]

Some (semi-old) ClanGen Drawings!!

So I drew some of my ClanGen cats a while ago, but I hadn't really been on Tumblr back then. But now that I am here, I thought it would be fun to share them! Just keep i mind these are all a few months old. I also don't remember a lot about these cats because I never write anything down about them... hmmm.. Maybe I should do that lol

First off, the one i put actual effort into: Gravewanderer & Voiddive!

(Gravewanderer is the cream & white one while Voiddive is the black & white tabby one)

Just to be completely honest w/ you, I only drew this couple because I liked their names lmao. Though I don't remember their clan (I've had like, a thousand clans, so no chance on that honestly) I do remember that Gravewanderer was one of the medicine cats & Voiddive was just a regular warrior. But I thought they were cute, & so decided to draw them. :)

These ones are much simpler (& i actually included their sprites!):

...Yes, Blightbright's name was entirely randomly generated (So were all the others. but yknow. Blightbright.) Again, I don't rmemeber their clan, but I am fairly certain it was the same as Grave and Void's. Anyways, like the others, I don't have much to say about these cats... Uh, they're cute right? Lol.

Riftpelt & Roughsun. Again, not much to say abut these guys other than, they're cute, right ?!?!

Just a solo cat this time. Venomtide! Still not much to say about them. I know for a fact they're from the same clan as Nutmeg/Blight, & I do know that I liked them a lot despite not giving them any sort of story or whatnot... But yknow. They're pretty! Lol!

& now, a couple headshots in a slightly different style (AKA more complicated faces).

Blazewhisper!

She was the deputy of a clan I am still yet to remember. She actually has a personality this time: She was quite a bossy & stoic cat, often not taking shit from any other cat, but deep down, she did genuinely care about her clanmates & wished them the best - she was only bossy to make sure they got themselves out of trouble. She kinda acted like the mother to her clanmates.

I also drew this bonus shitpost of her:

Next, here's Icicleshard:

As you can see, Icicleshard is EEVVIIILLLL. Though she never actually did anything. She's the only one here who's name wasn't randomly generated - I didn't like her original suffix, so I changed to shard, as I felt it fit her better. Despite the fact she likes acting like she's all tough & is gonna destroy the clan, you could probably knock her over w/ a slightly strong sneeze. Oh, & also, I actually remember her clan: FeralClan!

I also made this bonus pixel art of her:

& Finally:

Barleysmoke of ScorchClan. The only one I gave an actually cool design to. Need I say more?

Yeah, that's it. I hope you enjoyed the silly kitties <3

[cosmik-homo]

Do you have any OCs? feel free to talk about them if you do

What was the first piece of media you engaged with on the internet? Are you still interested in it?

What's something you made or did that you're proud of?

What's something that made you smile this month?

I have some neat star wars ocs! I've actually announced an extra in the background of a crowd shot of a star wars marvel comics (my beloved) that for released years before I conceptualized the character is Definitely a canonical appearance of my oc Kyp, I'll go rebootle that post after I finish this, if I remember. Anyways all their content is in 'Star Wars Oc Tag', Kyp and Nawah are my two most developed and favorites. A fun Kyp fact is I'm addicted to calling them Kypling even though it's Definitely not their name. Also whenever I try conceptualizing the group they were on their backstory before the rebellion I end up with "if Kelsier's team was whatever that MCR Fictional post apocalyptic punk vagabonds were".

I think? The first thing was Hunger Games forums when I was like 8/9?? Loved cringey forum roleplay so much as a kid. That's where Emily came from- an oc from one of those- used to be my Internet Name for Years, and part of the reason I go by Emil now! I don't really engage with hunger games anymore, nah, haven't read it again in literal decade, but I'm glad when cool meta crosses my dash cuz good to see it was good and we've gotten beyond the YA Knockoff phenomenon to appreciate it.

Something I made or did I'm proud of: I honestly get astounded looking at some older art with how much time and effort I would put into each piece, I find finishing thongs more difficult today and prefer lots of small drawings to a big full canvas, but Quarantine was different mental times.

What's something that made me smile this month? A lot, honestly. My job is Not Terrible, I've been hanging out w friends and family, happy new hyperfix,, if I had to pick one thing, doing funny bits w my sister while watching Pertwee's doctor who run. She came up with an impression of the brigadier, Yates and Benton frolicking in a park wizard of oz style on eps where they're off screen for vacation reasons that was so fucking funny.

[egg2k16]

I think the reason why my depression is so bad now is bcus I'm failing my physics 1 w/calc class, and it's hitting me right in the depression bcus I actually do care about this class and do want to pass. If I fail, then I lost money, but more importantly that I'd've shown that I'm not that smart and not special enough to be able to pursue a degree in physics. I think another thing that plays into it is how burnt out I was getting my art degree, n how my uni completely sucked the joy out of drawing, so I'm like? preemptively sucking the fun out of physics? It doesn't help that my teacher doesn't know how to teach the class n heavily relies on us "already knowing the material" (bro you're hired specifically to teach people things). I also told too many people that I'm studying physics, so it's like, well how can the golden child Onion possibly show its face in public again, knowing full well that I failed the first actual physics class? Man I'm so stressed out. My shoulders are killing me, but bcus I've always been an honors student, I've always done everything myself bcus neither parent speaks the language, n it's always been shameful to admit I need help when it comes to school stuff bcus aren't I smart enough to figure it out on my own? I don't actually know how to study aside from rereading my notes. I feel so alone. Can you believe I turned 25 on Sunday? I've never had an actual job in my life. I don't have any real world problems, I'm so lucky and blessed to only worry about studying. I wish I was a better person, though, I wish I could be the actual grateful star student who took advantage of every opportunity given to it. I gave up so easily on art bcus I just didn't find joy in it anymore. I really graduated by the skin off my teeth bcus there was just NO motivation at ALL to put any effort into any of it anymore. I'm the first American relative to go to college and actually graduate. My body hurts so much, but even there I think "I'm too young to be crying in pain like this, I can't possibly ask to shell out money for a massage" cuz even then I'm like, I'll just undo all the stuff the masseuse did in an hour, bcus I have to work at home too. Parents take up too much of my time, I actually wonder how the fuck did I have time to do any of my art work. I have to juggle studying with entertaining my parents, cuz I'm also the only child. Man I'm whining so much for someone who has everything in life. "But I'm not happy!!!" I try to whisper. I have happy moments, but man everything's tinted by how much I wanna kill myself every single day. Sucks to suck, being depressed since I was 13 years old. N I can't even get a diagnosis for anything bcus I live in Florida, n it's currently not safe to be anything other than socially acceptable. I just spent 2 hrs reading fic bcus it's been months since I was able to have time enough to myself to read any fic at all. I haven't drawn anything in months either. This entire post is an embarrassment cuz I'm a dingus

[mountainofgoats]

Back in the Saddle

Midvale, a few weeks post-Phantom Zone. In an attempt to remaster the powers Kara spent months without, she and her two most important people make a road trip home to test her flight.

Or, I just want Kara to be able to fly for the joy of it the way Clark did in Man of Steel.

Read with “Flight” by Hans Zimmer playing. You won’t regret it.

/////

Lena knows the moment Kara emerges from the house up on the ridge. Alex’s eyes flick up, back down, then up again in quick succession. An entirely smug grin alights her face before she pointedly looks back down at her tablet.

“We’re going to have to have a talk about your affinity for making my sister new suits at some point, Luthor,” she says.

Lena feels her face heat up. “No idea what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Lena scoffs. “She needed a new one,” she hisses at the smirking elder Danvers. “The one she had was wrecked and there was no fixing it.”

“Agreed,” Alex allows, smile growing. “But this is what? The fourth one you’ve made for her?”

“One other! With upgrades!”

“Mmhmm.” Alex types a few more things into the tablet. Pulls out a USB and plugs it into the side. “Sure.”

Lena feels her face go hot. “What are you insinuating, Alex?”

Alex shrugs. “Not insinuating anything,” she says. She glances back up and smiles some more. “Just thinking you’re making a habit of making suits for Kara and I kind of appreciate it.”

At Lena’s questioning look, Alex elaborates. “Winn made her first one,” she says. “And yeah, it did the job, but it was-“ she waves her hand in a so-so gesture, wincing- “not the best. Prone to wardrobe malfunctions.”

Lena snorts. “Patriarchy.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Alex agrees with a playful two finger salute.

After a shared grin with Lena, her eyes travel back to where Kara must have made it down to the beach. “They’ve all protected her, the suits you’ve made,” Alex says. Her voice has gone quiet. Gone is the light teasing. She holds Lena’s eyes for a moment. “And I... can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

Lena’s eyes suddenly mist over, and her throat works against the lump that forms there.

Alex looks pointedly back down at her tablet, where she pulls up a video feed from one of the comm pieces resting on the boulder she’s made her impromptu HQ desk. She clears her throat. “I’ve never made sure you knew that. So. Now I’m telling you.”

Lena absolutely refuses to cry, but fuck if it doesn’t take a Herculean effort. She wrestles with the hot gratitude and affection boiling in her chest as Alex fiddles with the settings on the camera feed.

Alex glances up again, and her smile turns warm in a way Lena knows is reserved only for her sister. “Looking good, sis,” she calls. “Little weird without the cape, though.”

“Thanks! Lena made it!” Kara chirps from behind Lena. “Even has pockets! And yeah, I was going to ask you about that. Is there no cape, Lena?”

She barely dares to turn, but Alex is giving her one hell of a challenging look, and she’s still a Luthor.

And Luthors never back down from a challenge.

She turns her face just enough to look over her shoulder and immediately curses that particular Luthor trait.

Sure, she made the suit. But that in no way prepares her for what it looks like when it’s wrapped around Kara. The dark blue, almost black throws her golden hair, shimmering in the late sun, in sharp relief. The smooth material sweeps over the dips and curves of her shoulders and biceps, the dip in the high collar exposing slightly below the hollow of her throat. She approaches silently on the sand, the soft and supple deep maroon boots smooth and soundless. Lena had left the pants a little loose, a little more comfortable, but that did nothing to hide the muscle that bunches and releases rhythmically as Kara walks across the sand.

And she’s looking quizzically at Lena. Head slightly titled, blue eyes somehow even bluer against the darkness of her suit, the blue and red accents, and the reddish tint of the setting sun.

Lena rips her eyes away from the subtle dips in Kara’s abs and desperately wracks her brain to remember what question was asked of her.

“Cape, Lena?” Alex prompts with a shit eating grin.

“Right,” Lena coughs. She turns fully to meet Kara, hand already pointing to the belt slung diagonally across Kara’s chest. “I figured, since you’re not wanting to be in the limelight just yet, I should make it a bit more understated,” Lena explains. “Did you see the crest on your left shoulder?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “I like that it’s so small.”

“Press it.”

Kara’s eyes dance with curiosity, not leaving Lena’s, as she reaches up to press on the tiny S affixed to the dark brown leather.

At the press of Kara’s fingers, the nanites immediately begin to crawl across the suit, gathering and extending down her back and around her chest in a long, deep maroon cloak. Kara lets out a startled sound of delight, swishing the thick material and stroking at it with near reverence.

“More nanites?” Alex smirks.

Lena shrugs, tossing the elder Danvers a smirk of her own. “I mean, I do have an MO at this point. No sense in ditching it.”

“It’s great!” Kara exclaims. She swishes the cloak again, grinning happily. “I can put it away if I want! This would have saved me so many headaches years ago!”

She bounces over to Lena and wraps her up in a warm hug. “Thank you,” she says quietly. Only for Lena. “I love it.”

Lena squeezes her around the back, hands fisting in the material of the cloak, feeling herself flush with happiness. “I’m glad,” she whispers.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea, Lena,” Alex says as they break apart. She’s back at the tablet, tapping and looking over some sort of read out. “She was always complaining how the cape got in the way.”

Lena arches an eyebrow at Kara. “What about your cape tricks?”

Kara grimaces. “Much less useful than I was led to believe.”

Alex snorts. “Understatement of the century,” she mutters. “Okay,” she strides over to a Kara and gently fits a comm around her ear. “That has a GPS and camera built in. We’ll be able to see what you see, know where you are, monitor vitals-“

Kara makes a face. “Wait, if you can track me, couldn’t someone else?”

Lena shakes her head. “The crest has signals built in to interfere with radar. Any signal that’s not Alex’s will get scrambled to cloak you.”

Kara surges forward for another hug, and over her shoulder Lena sees Alex smile with an exasperated shake of her head.

“Always protecting,” she mutters.

“What, Alex?” Kara asks as she lets Lena go and takes a step back.

“Nothing,” Alex says. She inputs a few more commands on the tablet, then looks up at Kara. “So. You ready?”

Lena glances over to Kara for what she thinks will be a quick confirmation.

But in those brief seconds, Kara’s easy smile and eager brightness had darkened.

In the red glow of the sun, she stands with her face tilted upward. She gazes at the sky with unfiltered longing, but her hands are trembling. Her whole being quivers, wound tight like a spring, as if she wants nothing more than to hurl herself up to the clouds. But there’s a tightness in her eyes, something there that just... won’t let her. She just stands there, shaking, looking up with haunted eyes.

Alex reaches out, rests a hand on Kara’s forearm. “Hey,” she murmurs. “You don’t have to do anything crazy. Whatever you’re ready for is all you have to do. The rest will follow.”

Kara nods, but still she hesitates. “But what if- what happens if I can’t- I mean-“

“I caught you floating in your sleep two nights ago,” Lena says gently and Kara’s eyes - desperate, scared eyes - whip to hers. “You can do this. But only if you’re ready to. Okay?”

The near manic desperation in Kara’s eyes cools as they hold each other’s gaze. She squeezes Alex’s hand, takes a breath, and nods resolutely.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, giving her shoulders a shake. “I’m good. I’m okay.”

Alex squeezes her arm, then lets go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Kara has her eyes on the sky again, gives her shoulders one more fortifying shake. She flexes her hands, rubs them on her pants once. She glances over at Lena and seems to brighten at the reassuring smile Lena gives her.

“Okay,” she breathes. “Here goes nothing.”

She stills, closes her eyes. Breathes in deep, then lets it out slow.

She breathes once more, the tense lines of her face relaxing.

Silently, her feet leave the sand.

Alex reaches over for Lena’s arm and grasps it tightly.

Eyes still closed, Kara rises higher in the air, straight up. She turns in gentle circles as she ascends, up and above the ridge.

Alex is looking over the read-outs on the tablet, eyes darting back and forth with near frantic energy. “Looking good so far, Kara,” she says distractedly. “Vitals are good. You’re at a hundred feet now.”

“Feels good,” comes Kara’s voice through the comms. “I’m not even trying.”

Alex’s smile is so proud Lena wants to cry. “That’s good, kid. That’s so good. Two hundred feet now.”

Alex is still gripping Lena’s arm painfully tight, but she’s rocking up on her toes happily, shooting Lena fervent looks of pure joy.

“Knew you could do it, Kara,” Lena says into her own comms, taking Alex’s hand away from her arm but keeping ahold of it. She squeezes as tight as her own bubbling pride allows.

Kara’s finally in the air. She’s flying. It’s one more step closer to conquering the giant mountain they’ve been climbing since she got back.

“How high now, Alex? I’m not looking.”

Alex glances at the screen, then up towards where Kara is becoming a dark dot among the clouds. “A thousand feet. Still feeling good?”

“Yeah. Really good, actually.”

“Have you opened your eyes yet?” Alex’s voice is teasing.

“No. What if I’m suddenly afraid of heights?” Her voice is childishly whiny, drawing a chuckle out of Alex and Lena.

Lena glances down at the video feed from Kara’s earpiece and has to stop herself from gasping.

“Kara, I think you should open your eyes,” she says slightly breathlessly.

“I’m gonna fall if I do,” comes Kara’s tight reply.

Alex is also staring at the camera feed, watching as the view of the water recedes farther toward the bottom of the screen as Kara rises higher and higher. “Kara, you want to see it,” she says. “Trust us.”

Lena knows the exact moment Kara opens her eyes. There’s a tiny gasp through the comms, and the camera arrests in place. Locked on to the brilliance of the shimmering water, the watercolor of the clouds in the light of the setting sun.

For a moment, Kara hangs motionless in the air.

Alex is anxiously tightening and loosening her grip on Lena’s hand. Looking up to where Kara is barely a speck in the sky, back to the camera, then back up again.

“Kara?” she says, a small break in her voice. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” comes Kara’s breathless voice. “Yeah, no, I’m good.”

There’s another moment of silence, then “It’s breathtaking. I... I’d almost forgotten-“ her voice cracks, and she clears her throat -“How beautiful this planet is.”

Alex squeezes Lena’s hand so tight it hurts, and Lena brings her free hand to grip at Alex’s forearm.

Alex sniffles, swipes her eyes against her shoulder. “It has its moments,” she rasps.

For a few long moments, they three stay silent. Lena and Alex on the ground, clutching at hands and arms in barely restrained joy with the waves lapping nearby.

And Kara, so high they can’t even see her, hanging in midair. Silent save for her gentle, easy breathing and the wind whistling around her.

And then, so suddenly both Lena and Alex flinch, she huffs a breath.

“Wanna see how fast I can get around the world?”

Alex barks a laugh, exchanging a fond and relieved look with Lena. “Your record is what? Thirty four seconds?”

“I can beat that,” comes the cocky reply.

And god, she sounds so happy.

Alex scoffs. “If you say so.”

Lena pulls out her phone and sets up a stopwatch. “On my mark, then?” she says.

“Don’t break anything, Kara,” Alex warns, though there’s no bite in her voice.

“And don’t break that suit,” Lena chimes in.

Kara’s voice has a tiny edge of Supergirl - the first since the Phantom Zone - when she replies. “Nothing’s getting broken here except the sound barrier.”

A shiver shoots down Lena’s spine. She does her best to ignore why.

“In three, two, one-“ she taps her phone- “Go.”

BOOM!

The noise vibrates through Lena’s chest. High above, the sky seems to part for Kara as she rockets towards the sun, leaving a trail in her wake.

Lena and Alex crowd the screen, watching wide-eyed as the ocean zips by far below, clouds whipping past, the camera quivering with the breakneck speed.

“Oh my god,” Lena murmurs almost by accident.

On the screen, a dark line of land rapidly approaches on the horizon as Kara hurtles toward it.

“That’ll be Japan,” Alex mumbles. She checks the read-outs and nods to herself. “Vitals are still good. Heart rate’s a little elevated, but considering-“ she gestures to the screen with a wry smile.

Lena nods, barely holding back happy tears.

On screen, Kara slows just enough for the sound to come back. Air whistles through the comms, her breathing slightly labored, and she ducks her head to watch the cities blink far below.

She won’t break her record by slowing like this, but Lena doesn’t mention that. And neither does Alex. They just watch as Kara picks up speed again, camera angling strangely as she dives.

She shoots west, weaving in huge slalom turns. The camera angles and tilts as she looks across the water, across the trees and grasslands and mountains as she passes them. Cities and towns flash past like street lights on a highway.

On the screen, her GPS tracks her through the rest of Asia, across India and into Africa. It’s a far cry from the speed she’d shot off at, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she dips and rolls through the clouds, hand outstretched as if to catch the swirling vapors.

Once she reaches the distant coast, Kara dips so low her hand reaches out to skim the water. She sails over the waves, fingers dragging, until she finds a pod of dolphins playing in the white water. For a moment, she flies just above the waves with them as they leap and dance.

The camera jerks toward the sky, and Kara gives a loud, delighted whoop as she shoots upwards. Spinning and spinning so fast the camera is blurring with the speed.

And through it all, Kara is laughing. Huge, joyous belly laughs, arms outstretched and head thrown back as she sails back into the clouds.

At 40,000 feet, she slows her ascent. Like a ball tossed in the air, she hovers at a stop for a split second before she starts to plummet. She turns, belly down and arms outstretched as the ocean rushes to meet her.

Still laughing with outrageous joy.

“God I missed that,” Alex murmurs. Her voice quivers and breaks.

Lena doesn’t take her eyes away from the screen. She doesn’t want to miss a single moment of this. But she does give Alex’s hand a squeeze in agreement.

Because hearing that laugh, being here and watching as Kara rolls and dives through the air, is healing pieces of Lena’s heart that she didn’t think would ever even scab over.

Kara’s joy is infectious, like it had always been. And Lena finds that she’s soaking it in like a woman parched.

On screen, Kara shoots off with another mighty BOOM. Her GPS shows her hurtling across the US at breakneck speed.

“Not even close to her record,” Alex laughs wetly. “Guess we’ll have to try again later.”

Lena swipes her hand under her eyes with a chuckle, catching tears that neither of them really acknowledge.

And seconds later, Kara lands with a muffled thump. Sand flies under her feet, and the ground trembles.

But her face is flushed, smile radiant, eyes glistening with tears.

Alex takes a step toward her, but pauses. “You okay?”

Kara gives a sobbing laugh, gestures helplessly with her hands. But her smile is wondrous.

Alex surges forward and wraps her in a tight hug. Kara clutches back, hands buried in her sister’s jacket and face pressed against her shoulder.

After a moment, one hand reaches out, fingers wiggling invitingly.

Lena takes that hand in both of hers and holds on tight. Over Alex’s shoulder, Kara’s eyes crinkle with her smile, sparkling and overwhelmed. She squeezes Lena’s hand, then tucks her eyes against her sister’s shoulder with a huge breath.

In a way, Lena feels as if they’re all breathing that same breath of relief.

“I wanna go again.” Kara’s voice is muffled adorably against Alex’s jacket.

Alex chuckles and rocks Kara back and forth happily. “We can stay out here as long as you want.”

Kara nods. “’Kay,” she says. But she holds on to Alex tighter, fingers digging into her jacket. “But in a minute, okay?”

Alex nods. Presses a kiss to the side of Kara’s head. “In a minute.”

And that seems to suit all three of them just fine. No one’s quite ready to let go yet.

/////

I'm a sucker for the angst just as much as the next nerd but I needed them to just... be happy and together. Just for a moment.

[monodipita]

ANGEL (Yandere!Angel x Reader)

Words: 1,930

Warning: Yandere content

A/N: This is one of the tamest yandere pieces I've wrote, I think. I hope you enjoy it.

Silence was only broken by the ambient noise that played on the TV and the soft whimpers of someone's voice, otherwise, the air was incredibly still in this apartment.

He stood above them. This poor person who was at the complete and utter mercy of Angel, whose touch could kill anyone if they touched long enough. His deep brown eyes lingered on their body while his hands hovered inches off of their face. Tears rolled down the person's face while they were forced to stare up at him.

"I'm going to ask again. You've already lost about a year of your life with your uneventful answers," Angel spoke. "Please, I've told you again and again, I don't know where [Y/N] is!" The feminine voice cried out quickly after Angel's statement. "But you do," Angel retorted, "[Y/N] has been seen in this apartment complex four times. That means walking by this door four times. Four encounters."

He was trying to piece together something, but you couldn't quite tell what it was. You hovered nearby for the sake of trying to find out what his game plan was, but at the expense of (almost) making your presence known... it wasn't easy getting into this apartment after Angel stepped in, but you wormed in and made yourself comfortable out of sight. You could only pray that he didn't see you, or hear you.

But there was something about all of this that you couldn't quite wrap your head around. Was he trying to figure out if you lived here? Because you didn't. No, your mentor lived here... and it was just normal for you to visit her when you had the time to, outside of work.

"I-I-I don't know..." the voice sobbed, "I have a family! Please don't keep doing this to me!"

It was sickening. Angel was repeatedly threatening this person's life by... touching her. No one could underestimate the power of his hands touching a mere human... even a simple grab of the hand could cost you two months. You could only bitterly imagine what it must've been like to be caressed by him. What it was like to have his face cup your hands. How much of your life would he take away then? You couldn't answer that question clearly, but the person he was interrogating, could.

"No, no no no, PLEASE!" She yelled, before a loud scream erupted from her lips while Angel's hands touched her face. Seconds pass, every one of them feeling like a grueling eternity that made your stomach churn. It was a total of ten seconds before Angel removed his hands. "You're in luck! I only took about a month away. We're nearing that threshold, though, and that can be scary ... so I would start talking now. So, I will ask this question again, Miss. Please answer it to the best of your ability."

He was growing too impatient to keep pestering this person, you could tell. Angel was lazy, and though he surprised you with the amount of effort he put into doing all of this, you knew he couldn't keep it up for long. Especially when it was reaching dead ends like it was now. Angel cleared his throat, "you may be aware of a person named [Y/N] [L/N] that comes into this apartment complex every Tuesday and Thursday around the same time in the afternoons. I know you see [Y/N] because you're a stay-at-home wife. So, I am asking you again. It's... early in the evening," he checked his watch before looking back down at the person. "And [Y/N] wasn't here today. Did something happen."

There was more silence to be followed before the person began to sob again... wail, really. It was distressing to hear. To know that someone was dying because of you really didn't sit well on your mind, or on your stomach.

"This will all be over soon. You've told me all I need to know." Angel's eyes hooded.

"N-n-no, please," the helpless voice uttered over Angel's, "I-I want to live! Please! I don't even know who [Y/N] [L/N] is!! PLEASE, NO!-" Their cries were ... blended, almost. If anyone could make aging be heard, it was Angel, while he took someone's life through simply touching their skin. You still couldn't quite wrap your head around that fact.

You stifled a cry and clamped your hand over your mouth to silence yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. Why? Why would he do this? What did this person do to deserve the touch of death? For just living here, was that it?

A yawn characteristically came from Angel's mouth before he stepped over the person's body, tucking his hands in his pockets as he stopped at the door. He stood there for a moment before he he turned his head, beautiful locks tumbling down his back as he looked around with narrowed eyes. You did your best to stay quiet in the corner you were in, you didn't want to draw attention to yourself and risk him knowing that you were here.

The longer he stayed at the door though, the more you found yourself beginning to question why you were even here in the first place... but you knew why. He was acting strange. He had been acting strange ever since that little date the two of you went on.

Ice cream. It wasn't a very romantic setting and it was actually one he and Aki Hayakawa frequented quite often, but something about this particular day happened to set him off. You treated him to something nice after he proved to be helpful against a devil you couldn't get close to—so it was just the two of you this time, Aki was nowhere in sight. A lot of the time you two spent together at that time was spent toward speaking about things, such as the ice cream you ate, how he saved your life, and how you were thankful that he helped you out.

Angel wanted to know so much about you after that—and was clingy, moreso than what you would've expected from someone like him, who seemed like he couldn't have gave a damn whether someone lived or died, as long as he wasn't bothered. In the days, maybe even weeks after leading up to now, he never really left you alone until you broke off from him to go home for the day. The days you went to visit your mentor, you linked up with him shortly after leaving the apartment complex, some ways away from it. You didn't quite think of it like you were thinking about it now, but looking back on it, there were clearly some things that were wrong here. How did he find out that you were coming to this apartment complex? Was he following you?

"I thought I heard something other than that woman when I walked inside."

"Gah!" You squeaked in fear, making your body jolt as your arm covered your face in self-defense. Angel found you, he finally found you. "F-fuck!"

"What are you doing here, [Y/N]?" He asked, "are you here to talk to whoever you're talking to?"

"W-why does that matter?" You stammer, as you find the courage to finally remove your arm from your face to look up at him. Why, he looked mental. His eyes looked like beads against his white sclera. What a terrifying expression to come back to—it made your heart leap into your throat. "I didn't feel like visiting my mentor today."

"Oh. Your mentor."

Silence between the two of you begins to pick up after that. Your heart felt like it was going to explode with how fast it was beating. So many questions had to be asked, but how could you ask them? You didn't even know what to say right now.

"Want to go get some ice cream?" He asked, as if everything that happened didn't just happen. You swallowed thickly at the question asked and looked around nervously. Did you beat around the bush? Agree, and act like nothing happened in this room? Or did you face the fact that what Angel did was unforgivable?

Another gap of silence.

"Angel, you just killed an innocent human being for no reason," you stated the obvious. Your brows furrowed and you stared at him. "Do you have any idea what this means?"

"Mm, no," Angel shook his head, "I'm sure I don't really care, either." He then pointed to the door. "Do you want to get ice cream with me, [Y/N]?"

"A-angel!" You pressed him with your words. "You... you killed an innocent human being!"

"...why do I care?" He gave you a blank stare. "I was doing her a favor. Now, do you want to get ice cream with me?" He extended his free hand in the direction of your body. "I know you're going home soon, since this is your day off."

You stared at him, horrified by the lack of humanity within him. Well, he was a devil... so of course he didn't have any shred of humanity, but still, didn't he feel even an ounce of remorse over what he just did? None at all? "Y-you killed her because of me," you reiterated in a more... significant light. "Why?"

"Because I didn't see you come into the building today, so I went around asking," he responded and sighed before he shoved his hands into his pockets. He would know better than to touch someone he cared for if he didn't want them to die. "She was mean to me, so she suffered the consequences."

Those words worried you. "What do you mean you went around and asked?" You narrowed your eyes. "Did you..."

"Only to those who were rude." Angel calmly stated, "not a lot of them were even subjected to what this woman went through. But I know she saw you... she saw you every time you came up on this floor. I know she did. She proceeded to lie about it, and for lying, she had to be killed." He tilted his head. "Have I answered your questions enough? Can we go get ice cream now?"

So many people had their lives threatened because of you. That was a tough pill to swallow, wasn't it?

The sound of the door opening made your heart beat quicken again. Your eyes shot to the door to see him standing in the doorway with his eyes still on you. "Come on. I want to go get ice cream."

"...why... why did you do it?" You weakly asked him as you stumbled forward to meet him. "Why would you subject all of these people to torture? A-and for... for me..?" It just didn't sound right.

"It may not be a lot, but it's honest work. I try my best to keep you safe. I have to know where you are at all times to do that though, right?" Angel shrugged his shoulders. "Think of me as your guardian angel, maybe that'll make the pill easier to swallow. ...so, can we go get ice cream?"

"N-no," you gently push him out of the way so that you can leave the building. "We won't be doing anything of the sort. I'm going to go to the hunter's association and ask to be reassigned to another devil."

Angel stumbled back, but was quick to grab your arm.

"Not if you want to live, you won't." He narrowed his eyes. "We're together now. If I can't have you, no one else can."

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him.  But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

[forever-rogue]

Only You (A Good Man)

A/N: Hello my sunshines! I’m back with another little installment of the AGM ‘verse with our favorite Javi and Dulzura! I love them so much and I’m glad y’all do too! This is just some sweetness - enjoy!  As always, comments and feedback are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! Xx

*can be read as a standalone or part of the ‘verse as a whole*

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: language, smut (18+ only!)

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Dulzura?” Javier’s voice sounded concerned as he walked in the door and was immediately greeted by a large sigh from the dining room. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his briefcase by the door, pausing for a moment to reach down and pet Stevie. A quiet slew of curses met his ears as he padded down the hall to find you. 

He paused in the doorway, leaning against it as a small smile crossed his features. You were sitting at the head of the table, papers and fabric samples and flowers all around you. Your hands were threaded in your hair as you stared at everything with an exasperated expression. Even if you hadn’t heard him come in, you easily sensed your fiancé’s presence and looked up to meet his soft brown eyes. Tension seemed to leave your body at the sight of your lover as he strode over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Humming slightly, he looked around at everything that appeared to be the bane of your existence as he realized this was all for the wedding. 

“Hi Javi,” you relaxed ever so slightly as his large, skilled hands massaged your aching shoulders. Biting your lip, it became a herculean task to hold back your moans as he worked on easing the knots that had been plaguing you, “fuck Javi.”

“Normally you save that for-”

“Shut up!” you jokingly groaned as you put your hands on top of his and gave them a small squeeze, “such a cocky bastard.”

“And yet you’re marrying me,” you turned to face him but before you could do anything else, he captured your lips with his in a soft, saccharine kiss. That was definitely the best, and his favorite, way to get you to relax. 

“I’m starting to question that,” you huffed when he pulled back, a confused expression crossing his features. His heart instantly felt like it was about to burst out of his chest as he stared at you; sometimes this still all felt like some sort of fever dream and you weren’t actually real. Like you were a figment of imagination that he used to cope with the reality of everyday life. But then...you were there to welcome him home with open arms every night. You were there, warm, soft, and gentle next to him every morning; sometimes you even woke him with gentle touches and kisses. You were here now, in his hands, literally and metaphorically, the ring on your left hand catching the light perfectly as he grounded himself and forced himself to remember that this was all real. 

You noticed the momentarily distressed look on his face and shook your head, “oh, Javier, no! You know I didn’t mean it like that, my love. If there is one thing in this world I am sure about - it’s you. I just...I don’t know about all of these wedding planning. It’s starting to drive me crazy.”

“I feel like I haven’t helped,” he sighed as you slammed the book of cake photos shut and pushed it away and quickly stood up. Javier wasted no time in wrapping you up in his arms as you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his familiar scent; an instant sense of comfort and relaxation washed over you, “I’m sorry for not being more helpful. I’ll make more of an effort - this isn’t all your job.”

“It’s just...who knew that planning a wedding takes this much time and effort,” you groaned as you thought about all the plans you still needed to finalize and settle. It seemed like a task akin to an odyssey and you weren’t sure if it would ever come together, “all this trouble - and for what? One day of celebration for the people in our lives? To prove to them that we love each other?”

“It’s still months and months away,” the ex-DEA tried his best to reassure you as you just huffed with a bout of sarcastic laughter in his shoulder. He’d been through a lot of shit - seen even more - and yet none of that seemed as daunting as planning a wedding. Needless to say, he hadn’t played a big part in planning his first wedding, the one that had never happened thanks to him. It was all for the best, he’d come to realize over, because all of this had led him to you. He kissed your cheek, “we’ll get it all done.”

“I hope so,” you groaned lightly, deciding to push the thought of more planning out of your head; at least for this evening, “come on baby, let’s go out tonight, what do you say? I want a break from all of this, and I’m sure you’re just as tired.”

“Sounds perfect,” he beamed at you, “how about I take my wife to her favorite restaurant and then a movie?”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” you grinned at him before gently kissing his nose, “only one problem…”

“Oh?”

“I’m not your wife - not quite yet,” you reminded him as he just responded with a hearty laugh, “and who knows when it will be at this rate!”

“Relax, Dulzura,” he whispered as he held you close, “it will happen in time, just as it was meant to, I promise.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Fuck,” you could barely hold back your moan, biting on your bottom lip so hard you were sure it would bleed any moment as Javier buried himself between your legs. He hummed in content as you reached down and hand a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp, “Javier, right there - please.”

“Always taste so good,” he whispered as he pulled back for a moment and kissed along your thigh; you were so close, and he knew exactly what he was doing - getting you closer and closer and then drawing out your orgasm. Sometimes you could kill him for doing so, but tonight it felt just right. He licked up your soaked folders, nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a man starving, “just like fucking candy.”

“Jesus,” your eyes snapped shut as he added in two fingers, curling them just right to find your sweet spot. He moved his free hand to your hips as he tried to keep you still as you writhed under him, “so close, Javi.”

“Then you need to cum for me,” he insisted with a wicked smirk you could feel against your skin, “come on baby.”

“No, no, no,” you tugged lightly on hair, pulling his face away and causing him to look at you in confusion, “want you inside of me - want you to cum in me.”

“Shit,” he made a low, almost visceral sound as he hastily worked to pull off his jeans and threw them into the heap that contained your clothes. You reached for him and brought him up to your lips, kissing him as though your life depended on it, making it a point to leave marks that everyone would see, letting the world know he was yours. He moaned into your mouth as he lined himself up at your entrance before slowly pushing in. His eyes closed as your tight, warmness hugged him perfectly, “fuck, you feel so perfect - always do.”

“I love you,” you whispered softly at him, as he buried his face into your chest, “only you, Javier.”

"I love you, Dulzura," he kissed along your jaw as he set a languid, slow pace, hitting it right with every thrust. You reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him down to your lips and you could practically feel him smiling against you as he worked to pull small moans. And then - it hit him.

"Let's get married tomorrow."

"W-what?" it was somewhere between shock and a moan as Javier rolled his hips in a particularly deep thrust. He pulled back slightly and judging by the look in his soft brown eyes, you could see he meant it. This wasn't just some spur of the moment thing he'd decided on in the throws of passion. 

He slowly switched positions so he was lying on his back and you were on top. The newfound angle made your eyes almost roll back as he stared at you in reverence. His large hands found purchase on your hips as you slowly bounced on his cock. His hips moved in time with yours, "I mean it. Let's just get married - fuck. Want to call you my wife already."

"Javier," you looked down at him with searing intensity before leaning down to kiss him. You could feel him start to twitch within you as your velvety walls started to clamp down on him, "I'm gonna-"

But you didn’t get a chance to say anything else as your orgasm washed over you, and nothing but soft mewls and moans spilled from your lips as you kissed him. Javi was close behind, filling you up with his hot cum, as he pulled you down to body and held you tightly. 

The two of you stayed like that for some, trying to catch your breath and slow your racing heart as he continued to kiss you silly. It was such a tender thing, but so sweet and intimate that you never wanted it to end. 

Once you came down from your high, you pulled back and grinned at him, nuzzling your nose against his before kissing him again. 

“Did you mean it?” you asked him gently as a grin spread across his features and he nodded slowly, “you really want to skip the whole wedding and just go and get married at the city hall?”

“Mhmm,” he promised, “planning a wedding...it’s so much stress and time, and for what? Other people? We already know we love each other and we’re not going anywhere, what does it matter? This is for us.”

“Our families will be pissed,” you laughed as he just scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, “but they’ll get over it. I love you, Javier - and nothing would make me happier than being your wife. Let’s do it.”

“You’re sure?” he put his hand on your cheek as you nodded, “I don’t want you to do this and then regret it. If you want a big wedding, I’ll get you the biggest fucking wedding you could want.”

“I just want you,” you beamed at him, running a hand through his dark curls, “just you. Maybe we can have a big barbecue or something later once it’s all said and done. Besides, the whole thing just seems overrated, you know?”

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as you rolled off of him and stood up, nodding towards the bathroom. He wasted no time getting up, knowing exactly where this was going, “you’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

“Hmm,” you mused thoughtfully before sticking your tongue out at him, “there’s one more thing I want to tell you.”

“Go on…” he quirked an eyebrow before you began pulling him into the bathroom and pointing at the small trash can. He studied it for a moment before realizing what was at the top, “really?”

“Uh huh honey,” you grinned and kissed his cheek as you glanced at the birth control that was placed on top, “we’d talked about it and said after the new year we could...try but not try. And well...I’m ready if you are, Javi.”

“I love you,” he looked back at you with wide, soft brown eyes. The ones you’d loved for what seemed like an eternity now, “fuck...yes. I want this, all of it - with you.”

“Me too,” you grinned back at him, “me too, Javier. You are the best man, and nothing you say or do will ever change that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Baby," Javier poked his head down the hall as he looked at his watch. There wasn't even a time you had to be at city hall or anything but he was...nervous. Gods, he was so nervous. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd ever felt like this before. He hadn't.

"Almost done, Javier," you called back to him as you finished putting your earrings in and turning back to your mirror. You let out a breath as you looked yourself over; your whole body was trembling with anxious energy. But you'd dressed the part and were happy with how you looked - you hoped Javi would like it too, although you could have worn an old potato sack and he would have called you beautiful. A creak from the floorboards caught your attention as you laughed, "no peeking, my love! Its bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!"

"Are you planning on keeping me blindfolded on the drive? Are you going to drive Miss Gets Lost in Our Neighborhood?" you could practically hear the smile in his voice as you sighed dramatically. You finished off your hair before slowly opening the door.

"Close your eyes!" you insisted for just a moment before moving into the hall and stopping in front of him. Reaching over, you slowly grabbed his hand and held it tightly in yours, "alright. You can open!"

And he opened them ever so slowly as soft brown eyes studied you with intense scrutiny.

"Wow," he was almost speechless as a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

"Is it too much?" you asked as your cheeks warmed up, suddenly wondering if you'd made some sort of mistake and gone too far. Javi beamed at your with a fervent shake of his head as he pulled your towards him, lips ghosting over yours as he tried not to mess up your lipstick.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he promised, "I must be the luckiest man in the world."

"Now you're just being dramatic. You clean up pretty well yourself, handsome," you laughed at his praise, but relished in it nonetheless. You'd picked this particular green dress on the whim that he might like it. It had been hanging in your closet for some time, and you'd never had the occasion to wear it before. What better day than your wedding day? He just sighed contentedly as you fixed a few stray hairs and straightened his tie. It was a simple black suit, but gods, he looked handsome as ever and it nearly made your hair stop, “ready?”

"Definitely," he promised as he slipped your hand into his and started to tug you towards the door, "you ready?"

"Almost! Hang on," taking a step back, you smiled as you held up your hands in the shape of a camera and pretended to snap a picture when he laughed, "I'm taking a mental picture - of my husband on our wedding day."

“Husband,” his smile was infectious - brighter than you had ever seen and you swore you fell a little more in love then and there, “I like the sound of that. Come on - let’s get married.”

“You know this doesn’t change anything between us, right?” you asked as he held the door open for you, “I’m still going to love you just as much. It’s just a piece of paper.”

“And yet...it feels right,” he shrugged as you made sure the rings were in his coat pocket as he opened the car door for you. On your seat was a beautiful bouquet of vibrant tulips in your favorite colors. A small sound of surprise left your lips as your eyes immediately stung with tears, “w-what? You don’t like them?”

“I love them,” you took them in your arms and clutched them to your chest, “they’re perfect. I love you - you didn’t need to do this, Javier.”

“I wanted to,” he insisted, with a kiss as he went to the driver’s side, “every bride needs some flowers on her wedding day.”

“Who knew you were such a sappy traditionalist?” you snorted as you climbed in, “big softie.”

“Cállate,” he jokingly shushed as he turned on the car and drove towards city hall. This was it - later this afternoon you’d officially be Javi’s wife - Mrs. Peña. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"And do you, Javier Peña, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Javier grinned at you, his single dimple proudly on display. He slipped the simple golden band onto your finger, snugly next to your engagement ring. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you looked at the matching band on his finger.

"I do," he was confident; in all honesty he had never been this sure about anything else. 

"Then I pronounce you man and wife," the officiant nodded at the two of you before Javi leaned over and kissed you gently. 

It all felt so surreal - like you were going through everything in a daze. Javier's hand was holding onto yours, fingers laced together as you both signed the marriage certificate and received multiple congratulations from random strangers. It seemed like it all went by so fast, a blur as you became husband and wife.

Before you knew it, you were walking out of city hall and clutching onto his arm and giggling at something he said. Before you could get back in the car, Javier let go out of your hand and took a few steps back. You gave him a confused look before quickly realizing what he was doing; he held up his hands as he pretended to take a photo.

"First picture of my wife," his voice almost cracked as he watched you pose and hold up your flowers. He made a small sound in the back of his throat, "perfect."

"Javier," you threw your arms around him and held him tightly against you, burying your face into his neck, "I love you so much."

"I love you, Dulzura," kissing the side of your head, he picked you up and spun you around, "all mine forever."

"I was already yours forever," you promised him, "always - from the start."

"From the start?" he chuckled warmly as you nodded, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his new wedding band, "even when I was your professor?"

"Mhmm," you reached up and cupped his cheek gently, "even back then. First the first moment when I thought- oh no he's hot to when you got mad at me for coming into your office to when you got me the tea."

"Ahh," his hands found purchase on your face as he leaned into you, "back when I was a complete asshole."

"It only lasted for like fifteen minutes," you smiled against his lips, "and I was a goner. I've loved you for a long time, Javier, when I didn't realize it."

"Shit," closing his eyes, he gently pressed his lips against yours, "and to think I felt guilty about thinking you were beautiful when I first saw you."

"You did?!"

"Uh huh honey," he repeated your favorite phrase softly, "I couldn't get you off my mind for...well since then. Nothing's changed. I loved you then and still do. It was easy I think, to fall in love with you - it just happened."

"I love you," you whispered before pulling him in for a long saccharine kiss, "so much, Javier. You are everything. You have made me the happiest woman in the world."

"I love you," he repeated softly, his hands on both sides of your face as he studied you,  "mi alma, mi vida -  my wife."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula   @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy   @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @javihoney  @aeryntheofficial  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial  @asgardianvamp21  @keithseabrook27  @karmezii  @dearspacepirates  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou  @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43​ @intu-witch-tion​ @wondergal2001​ @gingerbreadandpaper​ @willowtheewisp​

AGM Taglist: @misslolasworld  @mrsparknuts  @siempre-pedro  @domino-oh-damn  @weasleywinchester  @wickedfrsgrl  @fioccodineveautunnale @wonder-jedi @zoogrl05  @annathewitch​  @thinemineours  @prettyjewel93 @jawabear @standalorian @cryptkeepersoul @maddoggrahaml @roxypeanut​​ 

[lazywonderlvnd]

Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly. 

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him. 

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it. 

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

*

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning. 

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences. 

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils. 

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn’t point it out.

*

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

*

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather. 

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

 At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.

[13uswntimagines]

Your Ass Is Out of This World (Kelley x Reader)

Request: alex or kelley or sonnett x reader where they've been dating for a few years R is an astronaut for NASA and she gets to go to space

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her, none of this would have happened. 

Kelley wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up standing next to a dive bar sipping a lukewarm beer on a Friday night. In her defense, Ali and Ashlyn had convinced her it would be fun and had promised to pay for the Uber rides both ways. It had been fun for a while, dancing with them to some old 70s songs on the light-up dance floor, but half an hour ago they had disappeared off into a hallway somewhere, and she had no intention of third-wheeling (she knew she should have convinced Alex to join them). But she also wasn’t going to leave without them, because she wasn’t convinced either of them were sober enough to take any kind of transportation safely (someone needed to be there to make sure they didn’t puke in someone’s car).

So here she was, standing by the bar waiting for her friends’ sexcapades to be over, nursing her drink. The clink of a glass settling in front of her caught her attention. She blinked at the bartender. “I didn’t order another one,” 

The man’s lips ticked up and he shrugged. “Lady on the end paid for it. Said you looked sad,” 

Kelley looked up, following the man’s eyes towards a woman standing a few seats down the bar from her. She was also standing alone but was dressed as though for a different event altogether. Kelley had embraced the 70s theme of the bar slightly, wearing a jumpsuit and a scarf around her head, but this woman had just thrown a white NASA shirt--like the one Kelley got for her little cousin at Target-- over a pair of black jeans. As she bobbed her head to the music she met Kelley’s eyes and smiled. 

Kelley took that as her invitation to approach. Kelley’s eyes traced her form, lingering on the white material. She didn’t know those came in adult sizes...

“You must be a star, I can't stop orbiting around you” Kelley smiled charmingly as she approached you, setting her beer on the bar beside you and settling in the seat to the left of yours. 

“I do believe I was the one to buy you the drink…” you said, your lips twitching as you tried to keep a serious expression. “Shouldn’t I be the one throwing pickup lines here?”

“You bought me the drink, so I get to be the one to woo you. I’m Kelley, are you from Mars? 'cuz I wanna explore you with curiosity.” Kelley said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, enjoying the light blush coloring your cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “that was terrible. I mean really good but absolutely awful.”

“At least I got you to smile, but you still haven’t told me your name.” Kelley laughed, taking a sip of her beer. She was prepared to lay on the horrible pick up lines for your entertainment. 

“I’m Y/n,” you said, putting down your drink and holding out your hand, “pleasure.”

“They call me the milky way...Pleasure You Can't Measure,” Kelley smiled, shaking your hand as you laughed and pulling you a little closer “Why look at the moon, if I can’t touch it? Why look at your lips, if I can't kiss them,” she said, winking so you knew she was completely joking. 

“How do you know so many of these?” You said, shaking your head in awe. “ All I know off the top of my head is ‘do you work for NASA? Because you’re out of this world!’”

“Ah, a magician never reveals her secrets,” Kelley whispered conspiratoryly, bringing her hand up to cover her lips. “but my team and I have definitely had flirt offs for bonding nights,” 

“Your team?” 

“Yeah, I play soccer for the US and Washington,” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge accomplishment. 

Your eyes widened and you nearly spat out your drink. “Didn’t they, like, just win a World Cup?” 

“Yeah, No biggie,” Kelley said, side-eyeing you as she took another sip. 

“No biggie?  I’m surprised you don’t have a swarm of paparazzi shadowing you, that’s incredible! Weren’t the USWNT like the most successful US team in soccer?’

“Hm, there’s not enough drama for them, but we don’t mind. How about you? What do you do beautiful?” Kelley hummed. 

“Oh. I work for NASA,” you said, gesturing at the shirt. “I can’t wait to bring some of those lines back to work.”

“What??” 

****

“So do they at least give you a good choice of flavors? So you don’t get bored and stuff?” Emily asked from across the table, licking her dripping I cream cone. 

When your girlfriend decided to introduce you to the team after their match against Colombia, you were quite surprised she had chosen an ice cream shop as a venue. But with how food motivated the youngins seemed, you realized how appropriate it was. 

“I mean,” you said, your spoon suspended in the air as you blinked at Emily, “ice cream isn’t the only thing we will eat. I’m going to be on the station for like 8 months. Ice cream is not a balanced diet.”

“But it’s the only one they sell in the stores. You don’t have to lie cause the veggie lovers are here,” The defender said, leaning across the table, as though it would prevent the rest of the table from hearing her. 

“Babe, you literally love most veggies too,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, using her thumb to wipe a spot of chocolate ice cream from Emily’s nose. 

“Actually, I heard they’re a pretty good selection of dehydrated fruits and veggies and MRE’s and Tortillas and stuff. Plus I get to take a few things from home…” You mumbled, leaning back. 

She couldn’t be serious right? There was no way she thought you were supposed to sustain yourself on horrible freeze-dried dairy products for that long. Not to mention, freeze-dried ‘astronaut’ products for the most part weren’t actually possible to bring to space, with how crumbly they are. You were more likely to eat actual ice cream on the space station (less chance for an errant crumb being inhaled or destroying an important piece of equipment) than that gift shop garbage. 

“Oh yeah, MRE sounds way more likely than just eating the stuff they literally label as being for astronauts…” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “What does that even stand for? ‘Must reject Emily?”

You opened your mouth to answer, eyebrows furrowed, only for Kelley to nudge you softly. 

“It’s not worth the fight babe, trust me. Not the brightest lighthouse if you know what I mean,” Your girlfriend made a swirling motion with her finger next to her temple. 

You leaned in closer so your lips were nearly touching her ear. “She’s not serious right?” 

“I never joke about ice cream,” Emily answered seriously. 

You blinked at her, looking to your girlfriend who just shrugged and raised her eyebrows. 

“I’m, I’m not sure if they have a flavor rotation system for ice cream flavors. We haven’t been… briefed on that yet,” you nodded seriously. 

…...

“Can you hear me?” Kelley said, tapping her fingers impatiently as your face appeared in the video call. 

“He- -utiful,” You smiled through the glitchy computer screen. Your waving was broken up like a bad claymation. You leaned in to make out the fuzzy figures standing behind your girlfriend, assuming she was at camp or something. 

Normal long distance sucked, but literally being off-planet really made things difficult. It wasn’t like Kelley could just text you when she missed you, or randomly call you when she missed you at 3 am. Sure, she could email and you made a tremendous effort to schedule calls once a month, but it was still incredibly difficult (and slightly weird that a NASA tech dude had to monitor each call to make sure the connection stayed up). And sometimes even the best video-calling technology had issues. Like today (when a giant satellite or piece of space trash would block the signal). 

“Are you hav- -un at -amp?” You asked, grabbing your floating water pouch pushing out a sip sized water drop. 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Kelley said, watching you munch on your water. When you first got on the station you sent her pictures of artwork you made out of different drops of colored water- specifically making a giant water ‘soccer ball’ for her. Then you tried to boop it around and ended up losing control, amusing all your crewmates who watched you trying not to run into too many walls. “We’re looking forward to playing against Brazil on Friday, should be brutal.” 

“We’re set to be ov- Florida on -day, so I’ll try and tune into the ga-. Catch a nice - view,” You nodded, wiggling your eyebrows (which looked more like you having a seizure due to how badly you were pixelated). 

While Kelley wasn’t entirely sure what you were saying, she went ahead and nodded. “Let me know what you think!”

“Wh- color -it are you w-ing? Y- look -uper s-xy in the -ue,” you said, floating up in a ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose. 

“You’re favorite one,” Kelley said, winking at you. 

“-es!!” You cheered “-ake p-ture -or -“ the screen flickered dangerously for a second. Before a wobbly picture returned. 

“Babe you’re breaking up, I can’t tell what you’re saying. Y/n. Are you there? UGh. I love you! We’ll talk soon.”

“-ove y- -oo” 

Kelley blew a slow kiss to her camera before she heard a deep voice saying “Sorry ma’am. The connection was lost. Y’all still have five minutes on your scheduled call- Want me to try calling again? See if the signal improves?”

“Yeah,” Kelley shifted, rubbing the bridge of her nose as typing sounds echoed through the speaker. How she was going to make it through four more months of this she had no idea. 

“What if like the ship was attacked by aliens or something,” Sonnett whispered from her left, staring at the blank screen with real trepidation. 

“Not possible ma’am,” she heard him laugh. “But I doubt I would have the right level of security clearance to know.”

“great.”

Kelley grabbed a pen and marked a day off the calendar hanging on her wall. So much for ‘phone call with Y/n.’ She sighed. Just a few months to go. 

****

Gravity fucking sucked. It was disorienting and heavy and made you sick to your stomach. Space station alums always talked about re-entry and how bad that was, but you thought sitting in a NASA hospital bed while your equilibrium readjusted was way worse than your fireball craft plummeting into the ocean. 

“This fucking sucks,” You groaned, again throwing your hand over to pull out the IV. You hated how hard it was to move (and how you actually had to hold up a cup of water to get a drink but that was beside the point). 

“Whoa babe, I know you’re a little out of it right now, but that has to stay in. Just try and relax for a little while,” Kelley said, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles. 

You frowned at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Don’t wanna be here. Wanna be home with you.” 

“I know, but you gotta stay here until the re-entry symptoms have worn off a little more,” She said again. She knew that you weren’t going to be 100% when you stepped out of the spacecraft, but she hadn’t expected you to be so out of it. You were sick to your stomach and entirely unable to walk without assistance. 

The doctors assured her that you would be fine (residual effects from not being in gravity for so long and the impact of the landing or whatever), but it was still difficult to watch. It didn’t help that you were a horrendous patient. 

“Just watch the game. The US is even in Blue,” Kelley tried to coax. Even she was beginning to grow restless. But you couldn’t leave until you could keep down solid foods. 

“I don’t want to watch. You’re not in it,” You said, grabbing the remote from her and turning the television off. Then you tried to set the remote in the air, but instead of hovering like it should have done, it dropped to the ground. 

“Alright, commander Y/l/n. It’s dinner time,” one of the NASA hospital nurses said, bringing in a tray for you. Kelley thanked them as they left since you were too dazed to think of it.  

“God this food sucks, I hate jello ” you grumbled, lifting the spoon in front of your face (fully expecting it to float so you could take your bite) and dropping it as you want to open the pudding packet instead. “I just want a big juicy cheeseburger. With bacon and onions and-“ You trailed off, your mouth watering at the thought. You hadn’t had proper food in 8 months, and it had been your major cravings food. 

“A side of diabetes” she scoffed, picking up the discarded remote and spoon, “And are you going to keep dropping things everywhere?” She asked, carefully filling a spoon with chocolate pudding and guiding it to your mouth. 

“Fuck Newton. Things are supposed to float,” 

****

You loved the soft skin behind Kelley’s ear. It was so smooth, and it always smelt like a mix of her perfume, shampoo, and something inherently Kelley. It was a bonus that your exploration of the area always sent a shiver down her spine. You ran your nose along the skin there, nibbling on her ear before moving down her neck. Leaving little kisses along your path. Kelley sighed, sleepily scratching your scalp and tilting her head to the side to encourage you to continue. 

“You,” Kelley said. “ I like you.”

“Hm, I’m glad. It would be kinda scary if you were doing this with someone you didn’t like,” you mumbled against her skin, unwilling to part with it for even a moment. Kelley giggled at the tickling sensation. How you still had so much energy after you had thoroughly worn her out getting… reacquainted she would never know.

 “But what do you like most. Tell me, babe,” You said, moving your lips a little lower, towards where her shoulder and neck met. 

“I love… your ass. It’s out of this world.” She said sleepily, reaching around to grab her favorite asset of yours. 

“Well, it has been,” You laughed, pulling away reluctantly so you could look her in the eyes. 

“Shut up you goof,” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and whacking you lightly. You fell over dramatically, pulling her so she was on top of you. 

“Hm, I’m your goof,” 

“Yeah. You are. And babe?” She smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Hmm?” You hummed against her lips. She leaned back to look you in the eyes, one forearm across your chest and her other hand beside your head supporting her. 

“No more space travel for a while?” 

 “Pinky promise,” You said, wiggling your hand so your littlest finger connected with hers. 

“Good. I can’t believe I was dating someone from TEXAS for a while.” Kelley pretended to shudder. “Jus think, one of your coworkers might have been a Houston dash supporter!”

[voiceless-terror]

Perchance to Dream

@aspecarchivesweek Day Three: Drinks

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Jon comes out to Martin. Twice.

(Ft. Kiss-Averse Jonathan Sims and Hamlet References)

__________

“Ugh, no thank you.”

Martin pauses. Sasha and Tim titter behind their hands.

And Jon, well. He’s got a look of vehement disgust written across his features, not unlike when he’s laying into what he claims is a fabricated statement. Martin can feel his face turning red at the words.

Getting Jon to come out for drinks had been the hard part. It’s one month into his tenure as Head Archivist, and everyone’s starting to feel the scope of the task ahead of them. Tim thought a ‘monthiversary’ drink was in order, and the only way to get Jon to come out was to threaten him with some sort of ill begotten information, the likes of which Martin couldn’t hear behind the closed door. Ten minutes later, Jon emerged, looking grumpier than usual (and very dashing) with a scarf around his neck. And now he sat next to him in the cozy pub booth, Martin trying very hard to remain stock-still because Jon’s leaning into his side. Perhaps he’s cold? Either way, Martin isn’t going to discourage it. 

But then he’d had a few drinks and they all loosened up; even Jon’s laugh came easier. And Martin- well, Martin’s opening up a bit more than usual, chattering about his time in the library and bolstered by the smiles he receives in turn. Tim changed track to the personal, regaling them with his latest outdoor adventure while Sasha and Jon gave witty, sarcastic commentary. But then Tim directed the conversation towards him, and they seemed relatively interested in his poetry. He even felt comfortable enough to rattle out a few lines from his phone in a desperate hope to impress, and he stupidly chose one that referenced ‘lips like a rosebud’ and Jon reacts like he’s read a particularly saucy bit of a smut novel aloud. How embarrassing. 

“Whew,” Tim whistles lowly, folding his arms behind his neck with an exaggerated wince. “Harsh, boss.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jon says, shaking his head and putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand- “Martin, your poetry is fine, if a bit derivative.” Jon thinks his poetry is fine and he’s got his small, fine-boned hand on Martin’s arm and god, he’s got a poem about that too, somewhere in his phone-

Tim guffaws, slamming a hand on the table and startling Sasha. “What a compliment!”

“It’s just…kissing. Lips. Ugh.” Jon smashes his fork rather violently into a dumpling, sending bits of food flying across the table, one of which hit Tim directly above his eye. “I eat with my mouth.”

“Wise observation.”

“Very astute of you.”

Martin would join in on the banter but Jon’s hand is still on his arm and his warm weight is pressing into his side. Honestly, what’s Jon playing at? He could rip the poetry to shreds in front of him but as long as that hand remains on his arm he’d just sit there, not saying a word. Hell, he’d probably even agree.

“So the bossman doesn’t like kisses,” Tim says, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of whatever fruity beverage he’d decided on. “Is that why you ripped down all of my mistletoe back in research?”

Jon. Mistletoe. Hand still on arm.

“I don’t like any of it,” Jon says, removing his hand from Martin’s arm to make a decisive gesture across the table which nearly sent his drink flying. He instantly misses the pressure but the warmth is still there, burning through his sleeve. Jon looks incredibly drunk, now that Martin’s got a better angle to view his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips- “All that touching. I don’t understand why everyone’s so hung up on it. No thank you, not for me.”

A brief flash of understanding lights Sasha’s eyes but Martin’s not in a place to decipher it. He’s not sure if it’s the drink or the Jon-of-it-all that’s impeding him. He’s never seen him so relaxed, so animated about something that’s not work. He can’t even focus on the words coming out of Jon’s mouth at the moment.

But Sasha leans forward- once she’s got an idea in her head, she won’t let go until she’s seen it through. Martin recognizes that look. “You’re asexual, then?”

“Mm,” Jon mumbles, his head tilting back dangerously as he puts on an affected, exaggerated voice. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither.”

And then Martin’s gone, suddenly struck by a vision of teenage Jon, silhouetted on a stage by a dramatic spotlight, reciting Shakespeare like a born thespian- look, Martin despises theater, but even he’s not immune to Hamlet. In a dream world he’d be Ophelia, no, not Ophelia, idiot- maybe he’s a stage hand, or no, he helps Jon with his quick changes, that’s a job, right? So caught up is he in this pseudo-high school fantasy that the words being said don’t actually dawn on him until a full minute later, when Tim’s laughter reaches a crescendo.

“Boss, did you seriously just come out via Shakespeare?”

Jon’s not even denying it, giving a lazy, good-natured smile in response. Fuck. Here he is, having some stupid fantasy over his boss who is very much right next to him and very much not interested. God, is he taking advantage? He jumps to the side, trying desperately to put a few more inches of space between them for Jon’s comfort when that small hand comes back to his arm, the sudden and strong grip stopping him in his tracks. 

“No!” Jon’s voice is low, those dark eyes so intense. Martin can feel his face go scarlet from his gaze alone. “This is nice. I like it.”

Tim and Sasha share an evil little smile and Martin’s out of commission, the night’s revelations and Jon’s insistent snuggling having taken their toll. He couldn’t tell you what happened after that, how many drinks were shared or how he got home. All he remembers is the feel of Jon’s hand on his arm, his insistent closeness, and the sound of his laugh whenever Tim teased him.

The next day Jon comes in late, looking about as bad as the rest of them felt. From the way he interacts with them, it’s likely that he doesn’t even remember last night, what he did or what he said. Martin tries not to let it sting, and goes back to work, knowing there’s a side of Jon that he’ll likely never see again.

__________

“Martin, we have to...talk, if that’s alright.” 

Martin pauses, a lump building in his throat. “Okay.”

He settles in on Daisy’s lumpy couch, trying not to let his apprehension show. It’s been a week since Jon got him out of the Lonely and they’re still adjusting, but Martin likes to think they’re settling into a nice routine. There’s such a natural ease to their domesticity; they had their differences, sure, but he’s never seen the man so soft and unguarded, puttering around the cottage, making sure everything’s nice and comfortable for the two of them. And of course, there’s the bed situation. Only one, like in all the cliché fanfiction Martin had taken to reading back when he lived in the Archives and his biggest problem was worms. Maybe Jon doesn’t want to share anymore? He’s been strangely distant the past day, keeping space between them and hovering about in a nervous manner. He goes back through their interactions, trying to think of what he could’ve done wrong.

Jon sits down next to him, his face showing his own apprehension. “I know we’ve been getting...close, this past week. But if we’re going to ah, have an, er- well, you know, relationship- there’s some things you need to know.” Relationship. Jon thinks they're in a relationship. Martin didn’t want to put a label to it, too afraid it would shatter the fragile trust they built. But to be in a relationship with Jon, well, that’s something he’s always dreamed of, right?

So he relaxes minutely, tries not to show the utter joy he feels at the words. “Alright. What’s up?”

Jon takes a steadying breath, looking so oddly grave that Martin immediately wants to take him into his arms. “I don’t...well, I’m asexual. So I’m not really interested…” he makes a vague gesture down towards Martin’s crotch and then freezes, clearly embarrassed by the crudeness of the action. “I’m not interested in all of...that. Or kissing, for that matter. It’s just a personal boundary for me, if that’s alright.”

Oh. Martin blinks, taking in Jon’s serious countenance and hopeful eyes and while he wants to match it, he can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of his throat. “Oh-oh Jon-”

Jon immediately blanches, his brow furrowing in confusion and probably hurt. “W-What? What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck-it’s, it’s not that, that’s fine, it’s just-” Martin tries desperately to keep his laughter under control and fails. Christ, he can’t breathe. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither!” 

“Why are you quoting Shakespeare?” Jon’s looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Because you did, you daft thing!” Martin’s shoulders shake with the effort of containing himself, and he wipes a tear from his eye. He immediately puts a hand on Jon’s arm, a mirror’s reflection of that night at the bar and yet it’s still his hand that burns. “Jon, it’s fine. I already know. You told us over drinks my first month in the Archives.”

Jon’s face takes on that peculiar look of confusion and concentration that Martin loves, as if he’s searching his mind or maybe even the Eye for information. “I-oh. Oh!” He puts his head in his hands with a groan, ignoring Martin’s comforting pats to the back. “How embarrassing.”

“It was adorable.”

“No it wasn’t,” Jon whines into his hands even as he leans into Martin’s touch.

“It was,” Martin assures him, drawing him close to his side and letting him lean his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I laughed- you were just so serious, I couldn’t help it-”

“Yes, well,” Jon sighed, settling into his arms, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “It’s fine. As long you’re alright with…”

“More than alright.” It’s Jon, of course it’s alright. Being here with him, in their little shabby oasis- well, it’s more than enough. They sit there in silence for some time, Martin enjoying the closeness of the man he’d fought so hard to protect finally in his arms. He’s starting to think they just might be alright. He smiles to himself, perching his chin on top of Jon’s head.

“To be or not to be-”

“Shut up, Martin.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741983

[jaypsnax]

Alright then, to take it from the top... here’s some things I’ve done here or there for this dang game, from oldest to newest. With a big chunk of months starting with the margin Floofty there. Much is traditional and such, which is not my most practiced medium. Details on each below, just because I like over-explaining and it helps my nerves about posting.

1st: Fairly certain this Gramble is the first thing I did that was OK enough to show. Or, at least close to the first. He was one of my favorites and still is for his kindness(though he also can be really mean and paranoid, also a reason why I like him), so I wanted to get around to em. Also he’s very cute, I love my little malewife. I wanna scoop him up and hold him. Trouble is, Gramble has to have some of the most awkward proportions I’ve yet experienced while trying to draw a grumpus, I swear. That, and the more I looked at it, the more I grew to be unhappy with it. That generally applies to basically all of the drawings from last year, I find them to be “eh” at best. But it is what it is. 2nd: Second up is Flooftyyy, my most favorite. Intelligent, well-spoken, morally ambiguous, NB... and an asshole. But one with a cause they believe in that’s ultimately well intentioned, which they’ll go to self-destructive lengths to fulfill. And it’s clear they struggle to really get a grasp on how to treat people and have learned to cope with their frustration by shutting everyone out and believing them to be ignorant. While still obviously playing favorites between Eggabell and Triffany :p But by the end of the game, they’re learning that in order to really do what they want, they’ve got to really try and understand others. They’re the sort that I’d love to keep following to see their development. The awkwardness, the uncomfortable apologies and attempts at empathizing or opening up, the potential for blossoming relationships and a connection with others that, maybe, they’ve never quite experienced before. Their character is one that’s kind of close to my heart for being interesting and also quite similar to one I made and roleplayed for years. Add in the fact they’re NB and that just sealed the deal, that’s some fucking gender goddamn euphoria right there. So I had to draw them. 3rd: This one also mostly falls under the same explanation as above, except it was an effort as really figuring out grumpus bodies and proportions and stuff. Albeit in the form of solely Floofty, but my mental bandwidth for anything more than a drawing or two at a time is zilch. After that I’m spent. It was the first thing that I felt even marginally satisfied with, however.... I just feel like I’m in danger when looking at it. Like I’m gonna lose my way of things and habits I’ve built now from observing it too closely. Did keep the eyes, however. Kind of. 4th: To be real w you I just felt like drawing a Filbo after seeing a Filbo. He’s cute and I’d put a smooch on his dumb little head. Also more practice w grump stuff, but with some intentional attempts at stylization. I guess it didn’t stick, but who knows, maybe I could pick some of it back up?  5th: THE FIRST NEW DRAWING FROM A FEW DAYS AGO and it’s FLOOFTY, of course. It’s not really the first, there’s a few other things before it, but they suck so... yeah. I’d crawled out of the Bugsnax hole somewhat after a few months and failing to really do anything I actually wanted to do before, but a particular fic conked me right back 6 ft under. Piled the dirt over me and packed it in tight. So here I am again. And not only is it like that, but after binging a whole nearly 60,000 words in a night/morning, I was struck with the inspiration to actually write myself. Or try to, anyway. I have experience in RPing, but not a whole lot in actually... making a story myself. It’s not been going well, but I’ve talked plenty about that already... I’m sure it gets annoying for the whole maybe one person whose seen most of it to witness. And I’m still having fun. I’d mention the fic, but considering it’s NSFW and I’m officially tagging this... I don’t know if they’d want me advertising it as such. But surprise surprise, it’s Floofty related. And don’t get the wrong idea, while it covers explicit subject matter, that’s not entirely the point. Not a bad thing if it were, just that it’s more than that. I just like good character writing over all else, which is something liking this game to begin with heavily reinforced.... 6th: Heeeere’s Gramble, again. I’d been doing some little drawings for character profile stuff in my notebook, but I started to run into some difficulties when I got to him. This here is one of the results of the couple of little draws I did to try and understand. Again, his proportions are so *weird*. He’s just a little guy.... 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th: Here marks the first impulse draw after considering Buddy/Filbo/Beffica poly stuff. As well as the sudden Buddy drawing in general, which came as a big shock to me. These draws are suuuper rough, but I like the concepts. And goodness has this stuff been a whole ‘nother tangent... I did a fair amount of talking about it here. I’d do more, since there were TONS of details I still wanted to mentioned, but... my hands are starting to hurt. So maybe later. I realized that I kinda of messed up their design in my head bc I thought they had more similar teeth to Clumby. Whoops. That’s what I get for not using reference and same with FlooFTY’S TEETH AND THE WATCH NOOOOOOOOOO- .... *Ahem* I reckon the design is subject to change. Gotta make some little adjustment here or there, like maybe different eyes to distinct them from Floofty, but I actually rather... like the look. The hat, tie, and maybe a change to a bag on the side look nice... if totally not canon. But I will have just a little break from canon, as a treat. Otherwise it’s canon or bust. Personally, at least. I don’t really hold others to that standard unless they say they’re trying to follow canon or diverge so badly that a character is unrecognizable.

[hitomishiga]

im gonna write some shit like some fandom shit these hols if I get the time + motivation between original stuff + real life lmao hmu w suggestions any time

[crown-anon]

aah i thought of a req!!!!! could i maybe request one shots or hcs (separate) w dream, sapnap, n wilbur with a s/o (preferred he/him!!) who draws a whole lot,, n one day they catch him drawing him?? tysm :]

@ghcstbnr asked

gn i just realized i made a typo i meant cc catching reader drawing them- but ty again :)

of course! it's kind of long, sorry about that

I took a little creative liberty with the notion of "catching you drawing." also Sapnap's looks kind of long but it's also dialogue heavy. if you want me to redo it, I will. hope you like it 💗

& a note to everyone else, I don't write for Wilbur yet! I only write for the dream team at this time. sorry about that! this will probably change in the future, though, so look out 👀

CW: swearing

format: one-shot

people: dreamwastaken, Sapnap

pronouns: dreamwastaken's piece is ambiguous, Sapnap's piece uses he/him

edited 27 April 2021

—

dreamwastaken

since he doesn't use his camera, you find yourself with your boyfriend in the studio more often than not. when he's gaming casually, you play together, or one of you will cheer the other one on. when he's streaming, sometimes you interact with the viewers, or read donations for him; sometimes you just sit next to him, soaking up his energy and warmth. when he's working long days and long nights to edit videos, you're content with just relaxing together in the same space. at times you have to drag him out to the kitchen to eat, or help him to bed if he passes out, but…he's really cute when he's focused. (and you're starting to think he does it on purpose just so you can dote on him.)

today is a little different. he's recording for a manhunt that's meant to drop in a couple days. you're quiet, trying to avoid disrupting them. you're perched up on the loveseat, staring fondly at him across the room. he's so animated, the way his eyes shine when he talks to his friends, how he tears up when he laughs…

Patches mews at you from the arm of the couch, as if to say, disapprovingly, I cannot believe how sickeningly sweet your inner monologue is.

and you try to understand where she's coming from, you really do, but the sun's starting to set, and the gentle rays slotting through the blinds are shifting from white to gold.

he looks so divine, you decide. it's unfair. how could I not love him? he's seriously pretty. and before you can stop yourself, you're sketching him out on your tablet. you glance up at him fast to get the details right, and look away just as quickly. he never meets your eyes. soon your whole page is covered in little Clays, capturing the way he feels, the way he acts, the way you feel about him. Patches jumps off the chair, with all the moving. and before you know it, you've drawn up a whole page of concept art of your unfairly beautiful boyfriend. Patches was right about me, you muse to yourself.

fuck. Patches. the same Patches who's been meowing at you for the better part of an hour, now sitting patiently at the door? there's no way Clay didn't pick up on all that noise, you fret. but he's still playing, looking intense as ever. relief washes over you, replacing the guilt.

come here, girl, you think to yourself, knowing Patches wouldn't have even understood you if you spoke. sorry to keep you waiting. and you rise, slipping quietly out the door with his cat in your train.

—

you're coming back to the studio. Patches, fed and sated, is napping in another room. opening the door, you have to stop yourself, you freeze. your boyfriend's kneeling on the ground, sitting on his heels, right next to the door—you'd have hit him if it opened any further.

"baby, what are you…" the words die on your tongue.

my book. my sketchbook. my sketchbook full of drawings of him. shit, he's gonna think I'm such a simp! the embarrassment, the shame, the fear, it's overwhelming you.

you hear your voice break. "…what happened to recording…?"

"finished half an hour ago," he says simply.

and that was that. for the first time in ages, the silence hanging between you was thick and heavy with tension. you wait. and wait. and wait. you wait for the criticism, the hate, the argument that never comes.

suddenly, he seems content with what he's seen, when he looks up at you adoringly, and takes one of your hands, giving it a soft squeeze. "is that…me?"

you've lost your voice, all you can do is nod.

"you…you think I'm beautiful?" he glows.

ah, I suppose I did write that, somewhere in there. you look away. all the things I've said…

he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves kisses on your knuckles.

you sound small. "do I not tell you that enough?" you pause. "that you're beautiful? that I love you?"

and just like that, his nervousness dissolves into euphoria. you both start laughing at the same time.

"oh my god—" he wheezes. "—you're so sappy."

"only for you," you blurt out, and start laughing harder. but he quiets, he hesitates.

"only for me," he repeats.

you sink down onto the floor next to him. he's staring so fondly at you, you can't help but smile back.

"only for you," you affirm.

he rests his hands on your knees, pulling himself closer to you. he's so close to you, you can feel his blush. you let your eyes close, softly.

but the kiss never comes. instead, you're met with a "then what about all those drawings of Patches?"

laying on the floor, tangled up in each other, in hysterics, you distantly think I hope he remembered to leave the call from recording earlier.

—

over dinner, you meet his gaze, and he gives you that look. that stupid, handsome look; the one with the smile and the danger behind his eyes. he makes a point of pausing mid-bite, but it takes you a minute to notice that he's stopped eating.

"what's up, honey?" you ask, sounding a little more concerned than you should have been.

he shrugs dramatically. "oh, nothing…just figured you'd appreciate a muse." there it was. the teasing. you knew it would happen eventually. but the tone, it's kind, it's tempting; gentle, unlike a serious jab.

so all you do is roll your eyes, but you can't help the way your mouth quirks into a smile. "you're so dumb," you murmur with affection, and shake your head at nothing in particular.

Patches curls her tail around your ankle as she passes you by.

—

on the couch hours later for movie night, you're the last one up. Patches is curled up in Clay's lap, purring. Clay, in turn, sleeps soundly in your lap. (you think if he could purr, he would, but he settles for humming softly when you play with his hair.) you might think it's funny looking back on it later, but it feels so tender and vulnerable now. you like calm evenings like this one. Studio Ghibli plays quietly on the flatscreen; you don't know which one, you're not really paying attention anymore.

you're busy tracing the contours of Clay's skin, feeling more than seeing his shape in the dark room. mapping him out in your mind, learning his figure like you're seeing him for the first time again. you think you understand him a little bit better, every day you spend together. and with confidence, you make your first stroke, illuminated by the moon.

—

Sapnap

you only barely stop yourself from drawing a big "X" across your paper. exhale, and start erasing furiously. don't rip the paper—well, we didn't need that sheet anyway. ball it up and throw it at the dark, cobwebbed corner of the room. along with the rest of your mistakes.

you're trying. you're really trying. but those lips. his fucking lips. fuck.

your boyfriend smiles at the camera as he gets a donation with a sweet message on it. it should be so easy. he's right there. right here.

you check the time. it's been an hour. you've been trying, and miserably failing, to get his lips right for an entire hour. today, at least. you scoff at yourself, your misery, and pinch the bridge of your nose. it isn't fair.

his camera's on, and he's live, so you know you can't be in there with him. nobody knows you're together, and you don't want know what kind of backlash to expect if people found out. so you've been avoiding his streams…the whole room where he streams, really.

you've kept yourself busy by drawing. and you've cycled through many subjects in your life, and eventually, been able to draw whatever you put your mind to with enough time and effort. the problem is, your sights have been set on Sapnap, even for months before you got together. okay, maybe that isn't the problem. the actual problem is that you fucking suck at drawing him.

you get going, start it out, do an okay job, but midway through screw it all up somehow. to make things worse, your reference is his 2D image. he doesn't…know that you draw him. you're terrified to say. so you can't use the real life Sapnap as a reference, like you would prefer.

ugh, and this one's ruined too. you rip it up and throw it at your growing pile of paper balls, but being tiny confetti-sized pieces of paper, they don't make it very far. great, something else to clean up later, you huff at your own thoughts. it isn't fair.

—

"[name]?" he calls for you. you're one step ahead, already opening the door. you can't remember when you got here and decided to brood outside his room.

"hey, do you think you can—" he tears his eyes from his camera, his waiting audience, to look up at you expectantly. when he sees you he stops immediately, looking concerned, standing to meet you.

"what is it?" your voice is flat.

out of view of the camera, he mouths, are you okay? you only shrug and avert your eyes.

he falters, contemplates, sits back down at his desk and starts to talk to his viewers. "hey guys, I'm sorry for the short notice, but I gotta cut this stream short. my…" he glances at you for approval, only to see you motioning with your hands as if to say, no, don't.

(you yourself don't really know what for. no, don't end the stream for me? no, don't out us like this?)

he looks back. "…my friend…something came up with my friend. I have to take care of it. it's really important." you can tell he has trouble finding the right words. you can tell it throws him off, he's acting out of character for his internet personality. do you blame him? isn't this your fault? "sorry again. bye guys!"

the second he made the last click, he gets up and pulls you into a hug. it's unexpected, it knocks the wind out of you. you're certain he feels the tension.

"babe…what's wrong?" it's muffled by your neck and the sweater you're wearing. you just hold him, saying nothing.

he pulls away and holds you by the shoulders. "look at me. what's wrong?"

you feel all the more embarrassed. it's so silly to be upset about. "I…I…well, it's a lot."

he shakes his head, to say I'm not going anywhere, but his expression softens, his grip loosens. "do you want to talk about it?"

you sigh. "it started as 'I can't draw for shit', then it became 'why am I afraid of asking you for help?', and finally, worst of all, 'why the fuck can't we be seen together?' it isn't fair. it's never been fair. I'm sorry."

he thinks about it for a second. "okay, what makes you feel like we can't be seen together?"

"are you joking?" you snap. "we're two fucking boyfriends. in this society." he didn't look hurt by the outburst, but the guilt crept in anyway. "…I'm sorry."

he shakes his head, "do you really think I'd let that happen? I wouldn't ever let anyone hurt you, darling. remember that."

"I know, I know…" you don't know what to say. "it's easy to forget, I guess."

"what are you afraid to ask me for help about?"

"I…" shit, you guess you have to tell him. close your eyes, breathe, "I've been drawing you. trying to draw you. but I can't, it never turns out right."

you peek, and he's red in the face, stuttering. "me? you draw me? of all the hot people out there?"

you furrow your eyebrows at him. "don't give me that shit. you know you're cute."

he shakes his head incredulously. "are we talking about the same person here?"

"dude, your smile is literally the most radiant fucking force of nature I have ever seen."

"you're hot too! why are you coming after me?"

"I'm not 'coming after you', you're being defensive about your looks, when you shouldn't be! you're gorgeous, baby."

you're both giggling like girls at a sleepover, the anger and frustration long forgotten. now it's a war of who can be more grossly in-love with the other.

"what part of me," he manages between laughs. "are you having trouble drawing?"

"oh god," you groan, remembering yourself and your dilemma. "your lips."

"my fucking lips? you would think that—"

"no," you warn. "shut up. don't say it. don't you dare say it."

he leans in close, his hands have moved up to cup your face. you shiver.

"don't worry," he grins. "I won't."

the kiss is long and sweet, nothing like the ones you've shared in the past. he takes his time, you savor each other. you feel time stop ticking, you feel your heart stop beating, you feel the way he tilts his head. you grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him in. and when you part, you're breathing heavy, in tandem.

"thanks," you manage. "but I needed to see your lips, not kiss you into next saturday."

"nah," he laughs. "I think you needed that too."

you choose your words thoughtfully. "do you need me, too?"

he hums, and—

ding!

dreamwastaken donated $69!

:)

you could die. you could really, seriously die.

the response is instant. you don't even see Sapnap move from you to the PC, flushed down to his neck, apologizing, apologizing, and apologizing again. "change of plans, guys, we're doing an art stream!"

the chat is filled with "huh?"s and "what?"s.

"huh? what?" you didn't have the time to process what just happened.

karljacobs: I thought we were doing a make-out-with-our-secret-boyfriends stream :(

he smiled warmly at you. "yeah. my lovely boyfriend is going to draw me! he's been wanting to for a really long time, and his art is really good. let's go get your stuff."

you're in so much shock that he makes it past you and out of the room, while you stand there waiting. after a pause much longer than you intended, you hurry after him.

—

down the hall, in your room, he's got your sketchbook tucked under his arm, closed. you're sure you left it open when you came out.

you only barely get the words out. "um, did you…go through it? please don't laugh."

your heart sinks when he laughs heartily, but he grabs your hand, resting it on your book, about to hand it off. but he holds you there for a second. "of course not. I respect your privacy." he ponders for a moment. "I respect you."

you can feel the sigh of relief when you let it out. "I…love you."

your holding your book now, as he moves to collect the boxes containing your pens and pencils and colors. he gets them all together, but before he picks them up to head back, he turns around to face you. "is this too much?"

you absently reach for a hand, tracing over the lines on his palms. and you think about it. am I okay? is this too much?

"I don't think so. not with you. I'm okay."

he moves to open the door and grab the rest of your things. "well then, let's not keep them waiting!"

—

edited 27 April 2021