#the dress seems like it would be more comfortable. I don't typically wear shorts or crop tops.

[yukidragon]

What would Jack do if he found out Sunshine has a certain type that they’re into? And that type is the “bad boy”? Just, imagine if Jack asks his Sunshine what’s their type when getting to know them, and they end up giving a description that sounds almost exactly like his “bad boy” self Joseph.😂

I can imagine that would cause a bit of cognitive dissonance for Jack. Considering how remembering that he used to be Joseph was a trauma trigger for him, and in the past he regretted his "bad boy" attitude that led him to get tattoos when he was a teen...

Honestly, I don't think Joseph was a "bad boy" as an adult. Yes, he fits the stereotype when it comes to his appearance - what with being tall, muscular, having numerous piercings, tattoos, and wearing attire we tend to associate with the look of a "bad boy." He also smokes, which is a pretty stereotypical "bad boy" behavior. Plus there were hints that he actually went through a "bad boy" phase as a teen, but he seemed to be ashamed of that phase of his life after growing out of it.

In the recording with the psyche consultant, Joseph explicitly expressed regret for getting the tattoos, and he worries about doing right by the children. He's rather soft spoken and tries to be friendly, overall showing none of that typical "bad boy" attitude. He even stutters a bit, showing how nervous he is. There's no cocky confidence in his attitude that he seemed to display as a teen.

Then there's the interview with reporter Dan. Joseph shows discomfort when being judged for his appearance in a sexual way. He even cuts things short once the reporter made direct sexual insinuations about his past. It suggests that he might have some issues being judged based solely on his appearance.

Joseph might have been a "bad boy" in the past, but he turned his life around as an adult. He had friends on the set in his co-stars who spoke highly of him, as seen in a couple pictures Sauce posted on their old twitter.

Credit for these pictures as always goes to Sauce. Consider signing up to the SnaccPop Studios patreon, and remember not to share anything that's privately posted there.

It would seem that even while he was still alive, Joseph was trying to separate himself from his past as a "bad boy." He did run away from home and changed his name for a reason after all. I think it's this drive that ultimately led to Joseph deluding himself that he's Jack in the present after his death.

Sometimes we go through phases were we act up and practically become a different person than who we really are deep down, and we often look back on those periods of our life with regret. This seems to be the case with Joseph due to a troubled childhood. I've gone over some of the hints we've gotten of it and my own thoughts in this post.

So, really, it seems that even as an adult, Joseph was trying not to be a "bad boy" or be judged by his appearance or past. I imagine Jack would have a lot of unpleasant feelings towards the idea that it's this sort of person that his precious sunshine is attracted to.

I suspect that it would lead to some conversations, with Jack trying to find out what about this "bad boy" attitude that draws sunshine in... while also making sure MC is aware of how risky some of those behaviors are. If it's just the aesthetic, well that's just fine. Anyone should dress the way they feel comfortable, and there's no harm in finding a certain style of dress attractive.

Though it might be difficult for Jack to dress up as a "bad boy" to suit their tastes. If he tried, I imagine it would be less like Joseph's look and more like a Sunny Day Jack-themed "bad boy" appearance that would look more silly than rebellious.

It would be concerning to Jack if MC might be attracted to someone who might disregard their feelings or treat them with little care like the "bad boy" stereotype. It can also be pretty self-destructive and lead to reckless behavior and choices that leave deep regrets, like Joseph felt in his adulthood.

Jack wants MC to be happy and for their light to shine bright. He doesn't want to stifle that light, but taking care of them comes first. He'll be whatever they want him to be, but that doesn't mean he won't encourage them to want him to be the person he wants to be.

I suspect that Joseph was judged a lot for his appearance, both as himself and as Jack. Given how desperately he's clung to his persona as Jack in the present, I think we can tell which way he would rather be perceived.

As an aside, this is why I personally am not exactly keen on the fanon that Joseph calls his lover "doll." That sort of nickname tends to focus on a person's appearance and can be kind of objectifying. As we've seen with the interview with Dan, Joseph had to face quite a bit of that himself, and he didn't care for it.

I understand the urge to differentiate Joseph from Jack with a different nickname for his love interest, but I don't personally see Joseph and Jack as totally separate people. As I've said in a previous post, I think that there's more of Joseph in the Jack that we know than Jack would care to admit.

Not to knock anyone who feels that nickname is fitting, has a different interpretation of it, or likes it in general. Don't let me dictate how you have fun with the character and setting. Fanon is for fun after all~! It's just something that I couldn't help but think about when examining how Joseph might have some issues with being judged for his appearance and objectified by others.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

[inthewindandinthewater]

(Can We Be Friends)

(Can we be friends)

A/N: Hi everyone, this is the first time I've ever posted on here so we'll see how this goes. This is my first chapter of a series I'm tentatively calling (Can We Be Friends), that is subject to change though (please don't expect anything concrete from this, I'm kinda just feeling it out). It will be an enemies to friends to lovers kinda deal with Sirius, if I decide to finish it. Any feedback is appreciated, even if you just hated it... that's fine. I hope you enjoy it though.

Warnings: Heavy use of Y/n (maybe it's a crutch maybe it’s Mabeline), bad grammar perhaps.

Chapter One

Her blood was pumping, her palms were sweaty, and her heart felt like it was going to jump right out of her chest as she barreled down the staircase towards the gryffindor common room. Still her feet carried away from the girls dormitories and into the common room, where she went careening over the back of one of the plush, red velvet couches. 

“Goddamnit.” She muttered, pushing herself off the floor 

“Y/n L/n!” The girl pursuing her shouted as she rounded the second set of stairs. 

Lily Evans and Y/n L/n had been friends since their first year at hogwarts. The two had made fast friends on the train ride down, and despite being sorted into two different houses, a close friendship had blossomed between them over their years attending together. They were practically joint at the hip going into their seventh year, but that did not exempt them from some petty squabbles here and there. 

“There you are!” Lily announced as she reached the base of the staircase. Y/n ducked behind the couch, hoping to earn a few more seconds to plan her escape. “You can’t hide from me” Lily says, wretching away the pillow Y/n had been using to cover her head “You aren’t invisible just because you stay still.” The redhead added, giving her victim an unimpressed look. Y/n peaked up at her, giving her a coy smile, hoping that would earn her a shred of sympathy… it did not. “Jumper. Now.” Lilly demanded, holding out her hand. 

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It all started the day prior, both Lily and Y/n had been invited to a party celebrating the start of a new year at Hogwarts. This was commonplace amongst the houses, however this year was different. Instead of the typical house separated parties that would take place scattered throughout the week, each of the house's seventh years had agreed to host one large event in one of the rooms of requirement. In previous years the two had had no problems getting into the parties held in the gryffindor and slytherin common rooms, each of the girls would simply bring the other; attending the parties for arguably the two liveliest houses would prove enough excitement for them and they wouldn’t bother trying to get into the other two. This year though, both had been approached respectively by a very eager James Potter excitedly begging them to come to the ‘craziest welcome party Hogwarts had ever seen’. And though Lily had spent years shooting the bespectacled boy down, he seemed to be growing on her, and as such she acquiesced to him and both girls agreed to come. 

This was not where the issue lied. 

No. It wasn’t as simple as that. For years Y/n had remained the quiet girl at the back of her classes, never drawing attention, never under the spotlight, content to watch her it-girl best friend soak up all the shine. Lily Evans, for one, was tired of it. 

“Y/n, you cannot wear a jumper to a party, what are you? My chaperone?” Lily had been begging her to try on a short, deep blue dress she had brought from home. “I don't know Lils, I’m just more comfortable like this” She said motioning to her jean shorts and comfortable slytherin jumper. “Would it kill you to step out of your comfort zone just this once?” Lily asked, clearly exasperated but with no intention of giving up the fight that easily. Y/n dropped her shoulders and she glanced the full length mirror in the corner of the room, “I don’t know, I think I’ll look silly” she said, turning back to her friend “you should wear it, I bet it would look great on you” she added, waving her hand the direction of the other girl before dropping back onto her bed. “I already have a dress” She stated, turning to her closet and pulling out a red dress that looked fit to cling to every curve and dip on her body. “Wow” Y/n gasped, her eyes going a bit wide “I guess James really did grow on you, huh?”. Lily then hurled a hanger at Y/n’s head. She ducked out of the way, managing to miss the blow it dealt instead to the post of her bedframe, “not. Funny.” Lily said, turning to the mirror and holding the dress against herself. Y/n moved to pick up the blue dress that had been laid over the edge of the bed. It had a similar cut to Lily’s but with a little more structure, the deep blue fabric shimmered in the light as he rubbed the fabric between her fingers, contemplating even attempting to try it on just to appease her best friend. “If you would just put it on, I think you’d see the vision” Lily interrupted her thoughts. “Yeah alright, anything to get you off my back” Y/n teased before heading to the bathroom to change. 

When she returned Lily was busy fixing her makeup in the small mirror on her desk. “Ready to go?” she asked, not bothering to look up at the other girl. “Yep! All set, ready whenever you are” She replied, packing her stuff up a bit too quickly for Lily’s liking. Just as Y/n was at the door Lily looked up to find that, to her horror, she had slipped her jumper back on over the dress, nearly hiding all the glimmering material beneath it. Her eyes went wide as she made to go after the shyer girl, but she bolted before she could get ahold of her. “Y/n you cannot go like that!” She said, throwing her door open and running after the girl, “it’s sacrilege!”

Now they were here, Lily standing above Y/n demanding she remove the offending article of clothing. Lest she suffer the wrath of the gryffindor, Y/n shrugged the material over her head and slapped it into Lily’s awaiting hand. She tucked it under her arm and held her hands out to help the girl on the floor. “You look stunning Y/n/n” She said with fondness in her eyes. She  only shrugged in response. “Though we’ll have to do something about those shoes” She giggled, as y/n stared down at her beat up old converse.”That we can agree on” She said laughing along. 

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The party was in full swing by the time Y/n and Lily arrived. The room of requirement was decorated with glowing orbs of light floating through the air and sparkling decor. It was beautiful by all accounts, however any appreciation for the setting was lost when the atmosphere hit them. Music blasted around the room and people gathered in the center dancing or awkwardly swaying next to one another, some sat on couches on the outskirts of the rooms talking and laughing amongst themselves. Others, the more reserved of the bunch, stood against the walls and took in their surroundings. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and most looked happy to be back in the place so many considered home. Lily and y/n surveyed the room, looking for anyone they knew well enough to approach. But before they could make selection, hands on either of their shoulders pulled them into a panic. 

“You made it!” The booming voice of one James Potter assaulted their eardrums. 

“James!” Lily said, turning to the boy with what seemed like a genuine smile, y/n gave her quizzical look as she turned to face them, but Lily didn't seem to notice. Too enthralled in her conversation with the head boy. “I’m so glad you decided to show” he said, clearly directing the initial statement at the redhead, “you too y/n.” he added shortly after with his usual grin. 

It was no secret that James and his friends had been wary of Y/n in the beginning. She was slytherin afterall, and friends with Severus Snape in their early years. It was actually Y/n who had introduced Lily and Severus way back when. Even when Lily began to distance herself from him and started spending more time with her fellow Gryffindors, including James and his crew, Y/n had tried to remain a friend to him. However, after a particularly nasty argument early in their sixth year, the two had parted ways and refused to speak since. After that the Gryffindors seemed much more willing to accept Y/n into their group, albeit not as wholly as Lily. 

“Lily! Y/n!” a voice shouted from behind them causing them all to look over their shoulders to see none other than Sirius Black waving excitedly with Peter Pettigrew in toe. Y/n lifted her hand in a small shy waving, throwing the boy a quick smile before looking at her best friend. Lily gave her a knowing look before greeting the raven haired boy. “I didn’t think the two of you would show” He said as he reached them, “but here you are, and look at you” He said. Giving both girls a once over, causing James to throw an arm around Lily’s shoulder “watch it pads” he said, still keeping a light tone, obviously not taking Sirius’ comment too seriously. “Who said I was talking about Evans” Sirius quipped, throwing a wink in y/n's direction. Causing her to have to work double time to fight the blush that threatened to creep up her cheeks every time he was around. 

She didn’t know when it started, but it was made abundantly clear during the last week of last school year that Y/n had a crush on Sirius Black. It wasn’t hard to tell if you really paid attention, but that was her advantage, as long as there was someone else around, no one paid attention to Y/n L/n. She could simply hide in the background and never have to confront the feelings she harbored for the oldest Black brother. 

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The event that had made it clear to her that she had feelings for the boy occurred during a study session in the library. James and Sirius had somehow convinced Lily and Y/n to help them with their final essays for muggle studies. She couldn't remember how exactly they’d been roped into it, but seeing as Lily had already begun to give into James' endless pursuit of her, she assumed it wasn’t all that difficult. 

The four of them were seated at a small table in the library as Y/n attempted to explain the importance of muggle holidays to Sirius. 

“I don't get it” he said, giving her a look of genuine confusion. “There’s a bunny… and it lays eggs…?” She nodded. “... And this all has something to do with God?” She laughed at that before responding “You’ve got it” He dropped his head to the table with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Y/n/n. I don't, I'm going to fail.” He wailed. She placed her hand atop his, “you won’t fail Sirius I promise.” She said as he looked up her doe eyed “Look, you’re almost done” She assured him. The essay was almost finished, and good thing too because Lily and James looked as if they were ready to abandon them any minute, having finished James' essay more than a half hour ago. He’d showed up with a half finished essay, clearly not needing the help, anything to be closer to Lily she guessed. 

After another thirty minutes of explaining the ins and outs of Halloween to the boy, Sirius had a finished 19 inch essay and Y/n had a headache. “Brilliant!” he shouted, rolling up the parchment after allowing the ink to dry. “Finally” Lily sighed as she stood and stretched her arms over her head. James looked up at her, the typical melancholic expression he got when she left him spread over his face. “Yes, Evans. You’re free to go.” Sirius teased as he moved around the table. “Thank God” Y/n said as she stood and rolled her neck, paying little attention to just how close he had gotten, as she turned to grab her book bag she nearly walked face first into the boy's chest. Before she could collide with him however he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug and swaying back and forth a few times. “Oh thank you, Y/n/n” he cooed, as she stiffened from the sudden affection. She placed both hands on his chest and slowly removed herself from the hug “Don’t mention it, Black” she said, laughing a little awkwardly as she tried to hide the heat crawling up her neck “it was easy really”. “Right” He retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice “and that's why it took you so long” he grabbed her bag before she could get to it and slung it over his shoulder. “It took me so long..” She corrected, reaching a hand out to take her bag from him, only for him to lean back, effectively moving his shoulder out of her reach. “Because getting anything through that thick skull of yours is like rocket science”. Like the petulant child she knew him to be, Sirius stuck out his bottom lip in a faux pout that wore on her nerves like a cheese grater, “always so mean to me y/n/n”. She rolled her eyes at that “as if you're all kindness and sunshine”. Just as the raven haired boy opened his mouth in reply Lily cut in “If you two are done, we’ll be off to bed”. She motioned at her friend, implying that she would be walking her back to the dungeons as she often did when the two hung out. “You two go ahead, I’ll take the snake back to its pit” said Sirius, smirking as though he’d just created a novel comparison. “Why would you- Ow!” James was once again cut off as Lily jammed her elbow into his side. “Okay” she said simply, gathering her things and making for exit, yanking a very confused, albeit elated, James along with her. 

The walk to the slytherin dorms was oddly pleasant, typically y/n was overly annoyed by the endless stream of chatter that flowed from the boy beside her. But tonight it seemed that she didn’t mind all that much. He was going on and on about some muggle music, it was kind of charming watching him talk so passionately about something. She knew about most of it already and wasn’t nearly as fascinated by it as he was, the way he talked about it reminded her of when she’d first learned about magic. She couldn’t quite remember how the conversation started, and at first she simply nodded along with him until he mentioned one of her favorite bands that she’d had the pleasure of seeing live. He’d made her recount the entire set list and tell him which one she thought had sounded best live. Every once in a while she would glance over at him, only to find that he was already watching her, eagerly awaiting her next words. She supposes it was in one of those fleeting moments of eye contact that she put two and two together. The quickening of her pulse, the blush rising in her cheeks, oh good lord. She had a crush on Sirius Black.

[spamhappyface]

Aromatic Summer| H.P.

Pairings: Harry James Potter x Fem!Reader Word Count:2.1k

WARNINGS: SMUT, praise kink, oral (m receiving, slightly aggressive) deep throat, kinda sir kink! Sub!Harry (kinda) Dom!reader Characters are of age! Plotless…

It wasn't a surprise that Y/n's mother, Teresa, sometimes didn't treat her like a typical teenager. Teresa had decided to send Y/n to Privet Drive for the summer to take care of Harry after the recent incident. Y/n and Harry were more than just friends; they had lost their virginity to each other a couple of months ago. However, they had agreed to keep their relationship strictly platonic since then.

A lot had changed since Harry became the Hogwarts champion for the Triwizard Tournament. The death of Viktor Krum, Y/n's childhood best friend, had left her in shock. She had witnessed his lifeless body during their duel, and it had deeply affected her. Despite being only fifteen years old, Y/n's mother somehow expected her to play the role of Harry's therapist, even though it wasn't her responsibility.

Y/n believed her mother was joking when she approached Mr Dursley with a card from Dumbledore at King's Cross Station. The card stated that she would be spending two weeks with the Dursleys since Teresa was Harry's godmother. The Dursleys, filled with apprehension after reading the card, reluctantly agreed to accommodate Y/n.

Meanwhile, the last thing Y/n wanted was to spend her summer with abusive Muggles like the Dursleys, who seemed to be just as bad as her own mother, if not worse. The initial days with Harry were far from what she had anticipated. Y/n longed for solitude and craved being in the comfort of her own home, or at least with her parents and her little sister. Being at Privet Drive felt like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

Despite her disdain for the Dursleys, Y/n knew how to mask her true feelings and behave appropriately in front of ignorant Muggles. She had grown up in the North American Magical community and had attended Ilvermorny, giving her a unique perspective and a deeper understanding of Muggle’s life, including political views. She had engaged in many insightful debates with the Dursleys, or so she thought, until a particular conversation she had with Harry.

"To be fair, Y/n, you look alright, but..." Harry started, trying to convince her to wear something else.

"I know,” she said happily.

"Why don't you try my jacket?" he suggested casually, fetching it from his wardrobe.

"Are you joking?!" she exclaimed, giggling. "We're... how hot is it?"

"Dunno!" Harry raised his voice for a moment before calming down. "Look, it's just that I reckon you should wear something different. Dudley's mates are proper wankers. They're bound to say something, and you know we don't want to get into any bloody trouble—"

"Oh, come on, Harry. It's just a sundress. My mom bought it for me, she chose it, and I'm going to wear it. I look hot and—" Y/n said firmly to Harry, then caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was surprised. "Oh, Merlin's beard! Why don't I have a boyfriend or something? I would totally date myself, damn..."

Harry seemed a bit bewildered by her comment but carried on expressing his concerns.

"Yeah, and you look lovely. Look, Y/n, you're stunning. You've got a beautiful smile, gorgeous eyes, stunning hair, and a brilliant personality. But I'm dead serious, please. I'm saying this 'cause I care about you, and those blokes are daft as a brush. They even smoke weed, and sometimes they— I don't wanna get in any trouble for defending you."

"Oh, Harry," Y/n said, her cheeks slightly reddening. "Thanks for the compliments, but I know how to handle myself. You don't have to worry about it. Come on, let's go swing!"

“But you’re wearing a dress–”

Unexpectedly, Y/n lifted her dress up to her belly, revealing a pair of black spandex shorts.

“It’s called shorts, you know?” she said a bit annoyed by his behaviour, putting it down again.

Y/n stormed out of Harry's room, filled with anger, and stomped her way downstairs with Harry trailing behind her. As they descended, Y/n couldn't help but notice the way Mr Dursley was staring at her, causing her to feel increasingly uncomfortable. Mrs Dursley, on the other hand, seemed to be giving her a deathly glare as they continued their stride.

"Where are you two off to, then?" Mr. Dursley inquired, his tone almost gleeful.

"The park," Harry responded icily, heading towards the door, while Y/n offered a forced smile, feeling awkward under the scrutiny.

"Are you really letting her go out like that? People will start asking questions!" Mrs. Dursley muttered with disapproval.

"Let them, dear. Let the lad have some normal company. The girl looks perfectly normal to me. Besides, now they'll think the boy's managed to find himself a girlfriend!" Mr. Dursley retorted.

"Then, aren't you going to say something to her?! That dress is simply..." Mrs Dursley began, her voice trailing off.

"I'm not her father, dear. She can wear whatever she pleases. And... it's not like I care enough to notice," he murmured the last part, barely audible.

Y/n quickly realized that her physical appearance was one of the main reasons why Mr. Dursley treated her with a bit more kindness. She overheard their conversation without much effort, as they weren't exactly discreet with their voices. However, she didn't care. She loved the blue floral sundress and how it made her feel. Yes, she attracted some unwanted attention from older men with their stares and whistles, but she refused to change herself for them. It wasn't the first time she had experienced such behaviour, and she wasn't about to let it dictate her choices.

Throughout their days together, Y/n and Harry found themselves engaged in similar activities—going to the park and returning home. It was only for two weeks, as Y/n's mom would soon come to pick her up, and she eagerly anticipated that moment. It wasn't that Y/n was being selfish regarding Harry's well-being; it was simply that she believed she needed to help herself before she could effectively assist him. However, after a few days, she pushed her own emotions aside to be there for Harry, to listen to his feelings, and yes, even their shared hormones often made it difficult to maintain control.

For Y/n, life was too short to wait around for Ron forever, pondering whether or not he liked her. So it was either him or his best friend.

"Can I?" Harry gasped, his chest heaving, their conversation interrupted by kisses.

Constant friction was made in her entry for her little shorts of spandex against Harry’s old jeans, the hot summer wasn’t helping these two teenagers without the supervision of serious adults who actually could take care of them. Y/n smirked at his comment while she kept making circles on his dressed cock, taking his wrists desperate to put them directly in her tits. Harry gasped one more time between the frantic kisses, he was in heaven.

“You like it?” she asked vigorously.

“Y- Yes… I like it” he said breathlessly “I love it”

Y/n smiled at his answer, moving his wrists to her hips. A more confident Harry moved his hands a bit more where her butt cheeks were squishing them, Y/n go faster at her pace and Harry got his hands under the fabric of her spandex shorts.

“You’re not wearing any underwear?” he asked briskly.

“Maybe, I don’t know. Is that a problem?” she asked teasingly.

“No, no. it’s better like that… Unless you don’t–”

“Are you asking me to have sex with you, Mr. Potter?” she asked naughtily.

Harry was speechless for the first time in a long time, of course, he wanted to, he would be mental if he didn’t want to. His jaw dropped for the small he felt for Y/n’s buoyancy and self-assure she had.

“Y- yes…” he tumbled.

“Oh, Mr. Potter you don’t have to be shy with me. I’ll do whatever you want, how can I help you?” she asked with her eyes fixed on him, now touching slowly above the fabric of his jeans in his cock, getting slowly under the cloth.

“Y/n, I don’t have any contraceptives…”

She knew it would be dumb if she said, «Don’t come inside me», there was still a small percentage of her getting pregnant for a normal teenager, but she wasn’t normal, first of all, she was a witch and the assistant of Madame Pomphrey in the hospital wing that had though her a lot of stuff.

“It’s ok, just don’t come inside of me, Harry. And we have to be quiet, right?”

Harry nodded hurriedly in understanding.

“Are you ok with not coming inside of me, Harry?” she smirked innocently.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s ok, Y/n,” he said panting. “Everything you do it’s ok”

“Really?” she asked, and he nodded in response. “So, it’s ok if I just…” she raised her eyebrows, going down on him.

Her soft hands travelled under his shirt gently caressing his naked abs, leaving him wanting more, with a high libido. Y/n left him a few small kisses in it and Harry looked at her to realize that she was doing a path in which he was desperately dying of pleasure for his panoramic view and his sensitive skin. Sitting on his lap while her curly hair fell over her face while wet kisses ran through his abs. Harry took her soft hair into a messy bun, letting her long eyelashes and soft kisses do the job, his chest grew rapidly, warming up from the girl’s kisses. And when she finished, Harry observed that she had traced a heart in his abs, it caused him so much pleasure to feel her on his lap that he made his head back, pushing his cock a little towards the entrance of the girl, who had liked the reaction while licking her lips, making more friction on her clitoris circling against Harry’s cock. He lifted her black orchid sundress to her belly, caressing it as she lowered the spaghetti straps of her shoulders.

“Can I, do it?” she asked beautifully.

“Please, Y/n,” he begged.

Passing the button on his jeans to the back, unbuttoning it, almost slow burning for Harry’s needs and desires; his heartbeat had increased almost dangerously, even though it wasn’t the first time he had done something intimate with Y/n – it would be his second time – he just felt the same excitement that the first time.

In the past, Harry had no idea what he was doing, he just lived in the moment, and every time he was with her, he felt out of the world. As of now, he was begging her to suck him and fuck him too.

“Are you sure, Harry? Do you want me to do it?” she asked, caressing with her hand the bulge of Harry’s pants, the cotton fabric was giving it a better sensation.

“Please Y/n, just do it, please”

“Hm…” she pretends to think about it for a second, her belly was asking her for something else just than fingers, desperately for something thicker, Harry’s cock.

“Please, I need you, I want you!”

She smiled at him, satisfied “Well, there’s a lot of people who need me…”

“Please, Y/n, I want you!”

She smirked mischievously rolling her eyes, noticing that the sunset was happening, and the beautiful sun was hiding behind the horizon.

“Ok, I’m gonna help you, Harry. Do you want that?”

“Yes, that’s what I want, please! It hurts!”

Y/n shook her head smiling, with the help of Harry hip trusting to take down his jeans and then his pants, showing the now awake cock of harry, it had a little curve that make it go up to his abs, and a bit of white precum was on the tip of it a little bushy but Y/n didn’t care at that moment, his cock was hard and ready to be in action. She took it with one of her hands and the other massaging Harry’s thigh, spitting in his cock almost immediately, stroking it briefly.

“Oh my god… Y/n, just like that!” Harry gasped.

Stroking in it up and down with no mercy in the fast that Harry would come with the visual he had of her boobs falling in front of him, not letting her go making pressure with his legs.

“Just take it out all on me”

“Oh, darling…” Harry groaned. “You do it so good… you take me so well.”

And for some reason that motivated Y/n to put it in her mouth, suck it and taste it with her tongue ‘salty’ she thought. Going up and down as her eyes start to fill with tears, sometimes she never thought about, was Harry pushing her head down to his hard venous cock.

“Ah… keep going!” Harry bellowed, pushing her head harshly to his cock. “That’s it, there… there”

Y/n didn’t even complain about this, she was so turned on, that she was masturbating with Harry’s knee, going on infinite circles. But before Harry could come, he took off her mouth his cock, switch the position quickly with a close of eyes, and cum in Y/n’s belly. Groaning and gasping about how good it was, landing in front of her, kissing her lips

“You did it soo good, darling, so good. Good girl.”

And that turned something on inside of Y/n, maybe the way he quickly switched her to the bottom of the bed or the way he had talked to her.

“Did I, Mr. Potter?”

[elixirvitae]

Heyy! How are you doing? Something that I wonder a lot and I see different angles floating around.. do you see Alucard as old fashioned, able to keep up with the times or a mix of both? In the manga he seems to be a mix but I would like to hear your thoughts... like he seems to keep up with technology but Im wondering when it comes to language (would he know the trendy words), would he watch Youtube, how would he court someone hes interested in (would he be the trad gentleman), would he play video games, would he wear more trendy clothing in a non professional setting, etc...

Ohhh I love talking about this subject!

I'm not fluent in Japanese, but between the official translation and the sub's dialogue, Alucard varies between old, formal speech patterns to crude, modern patterns, sometimes in the same scene. In the English version of the manga, and to a lesser extent, he uses shorthand words like "Do ya wanna come with me?" to Seras and "What are ya gonna do? Chew me to death?" to Anderson. His fashion sense is an interesting example of hybridization over the years, too. I posted about this earlier tonight, but he's usually in an upscaled state of dress, with a lot of influences from the (then) newer goth subculture. His short hair is very 80's goth, now called "trad goth". When it's long, it's usually long, straight, and sleek which was very typical of goth hair goals in the 90's. He's typically in black and red, and almost ALWAYS in a trench coat of varying styles. And then you have his leather gimp suit.

But to answer a specific question in your ask, I think he probably has a hard line between his taste and trends. I think he would flat out refuse to wear jeans and a t shirt, or Satan forbid, a hoodie or track suit. No trainers/sneakers. I do think he'd wear a less formal button down with a leather jacket, modern trousers and Docs. I'd pay good money to commission someone to draw him dressed as such.

His glasses are antique climbing glasses, polarized and designed to keep light out of his eyes. His crimson duster is very Victorian inspired, but his double breasted suits are VERY 90's and in fashion. In 1943 he was en vogue as well, and his Thompson was also very modern. His .454 Casull is custom designed based on a 1911 Colt pistol. He knows how to dial long distance, has the Hellsing manor phone number memorized most likely, he knows how to fly a top of the line fighter jet. I think it's safe to say he is ahead of the curve on military and warfare technology, but I think it's reasonable to expect him to be able to use most household technology. I have a persistent headcanon that started out as a joke that he finds entertainment in computer games that let him build and construct things, then break them down on a catastrophic level. I think each example of these sort of games would be entertaining only as long as it took for him to build something really well and then destroy it. There's a youtuber that makes videos of all sorts of insane ways to slowly kill a household of Sims, and that's the kind of energy I think suits him and video games, but he definitely wouldn't play them very often. And don't forget his fever dream constructed entirely of modern American action film callbacks. I bet he LOVED Fifth Element, but then I headcanon he probably thinks sci-fi is pretty fun, too. I don't think he watches Youtube for entertainment, but anything he can't figure out himself he knows how to find on Youtube and he picks up on instructional things very quickly because of his intellect. Even as a human, he was a gifted strategist.

I think while he's adaptable to the times, he has a high appreciation for a lot of older things. I wouldn't say traditional, because he's anything but. I can see him being comfortable at high end lounges, pubs, or modern nightclubs. Men dressed like Alucard frequent goth clubs pretty frequently, too, so I don't think he'd be out of place there either. I think he'd enjoy the vibe more than a trendy nightclub.

He's probably pretty capable of casually picking someone up at a modern nightclub, but serious courting is probably very old school. His (now) Romanian culture has survived in some aspects; he always shows up to pick the object of his affection with spirits, flowers, or food.

He opens doors and covers the check unless the other party(ies) insist otherwise. I would say he's very non-traditional in that he sees himself as the submissive party or servant to his partner's whims or pleasure. Serving his partners gives him great satisfaction, and he would never try to instill any level of control over his partner. So, really I guess based on my own experience of phasing out of youth culture, I imagine he cherry picks things he likes from different periods and there's probably some habits he's retained from his long life even unconsciously. But he's smart, and definitely capable of adapting to his surroundings within reason.

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.4

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3

Summary: Daniela wingman Dimitrescu

---

Who knew that a door could look so intimidating. The dark wood decorated with golden floral patterns and the Dimitrescu crest in the middle wasn’t unlike most other doors in the castle. This door however had one big difference from the rest: it was the door to Cassandra’s bedroom.

Nicole had crossed paths with Daniela earlier, who wasted no time in placing the duty of fetching the middle sister for dinner upon her. Oh well. She was supposed to meet the brunette anyways. Tomorrow at sundown, Cassandra had said. And that was just after dinner. But the lingering feeling of their lips together, deep in a hidden nook in the garden, left Nicole unsure on what to expect from her.

With a final deep breath, she knocked on the door.

It was silent for a few long seconds. She was about to knock again, sure that Cassandra was still sleeping, but was stopped by a groggy reply that she took as her cue to enter.

“Lady Daniela sent me to let you know dinner will be ready soon.”

Nicole had a split second when she regretted each and every decision that led up to that very moment when she noticed the brunette stirring awake, naked body thankfully covered by soft blankets. Cassandra didn’t seem to mind though, as she yawned and stretched her arms like a lazy cat would.

“That’s a weird way to say Daniela is lazy and sent you to do her job.” She grabbed her watch from the nightstand. “Ugh, it’s early.” It’s 7 p.m.

From where she stood, looking anywhere but at the brunette, Nicole wasn’t sure how to respond. It’s not as if she could’ve said no to Daniela’s request. Or, to be more accurate, order. Apparently Cassandra didn’t wait for a reply, as she got out of bed and shuffled to her dresser, hopefully to put some clothes on. With one of her typical black dresses now on, she tiptoed to the other occupant in the room.

“Modest, are we,” she said, placing her hands on Nicole’s waist, not unlike she did many times before.

“Just trying not to get my eyes gouged out.” Hopefully Cassandra still appreciated her humor.

The brunette slowly spinned the other girl around so she could look in her eyes, as if she were a child inspecting a newly received christmas gift. “Mm...you can keep them. Now come on, spend some time with me since Dani insisted on you waking me up so early.”

Thanks Daniela.

Nicole felt herself get pulled further into the room, barely having time to take in all the trinkets and decor inside before she was tugged down to sit in Cassandra’s lap.

Well… best possible scenario.

This time there was no hesitation when their lips connected, one hand finding its place at the brunette's nape, pulling her close. Cassandra let out a small moan when she felt nails scratch lightly against her scalp, which Nicole took as an opportunity to slip her tongue past black painted lips. They kissed until Cassandra pulled back, opting instead to leave a trail of kisses and black lipstick on her jawline, down her throat, and finally her collarbone. The kisses were getting increasingly more aggressive, with nips at the skin and finally teeth dragging at the crook of Nicole's neck.

Cassandra inhaled deeply but pulled her mouth away from the skin, resting her forehead against that spot instead. When she spoke, her tone was dripping with barely held back desire.

"If you want me to stop, you should go."

Oh no, Nicole didn't just shove her tongue in her god damn mouth for them to stop. Whatever crumble of self preservation was left within her, it got booted out the metaphorical front door of her brain the moment she got pulled into the brunette's lap. The only thing that made her hesitate for a second was whether or not Cassandra could bite someone without actually killing them.

"Do not go near the jugular.”

And Cassandra listened. She dragged her teeth from the neck, down to the shoulder and, after an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the spot, she sunk her now sharp fangs in the flesh.

Nicole couldn't stop a whimper from escaping past her lips at the sudden jolt of pain. But the sensation of soft lips on her skin and Cassandra's low moan at the taste of her blood made for the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Cassa- ah," she moaned her name, fingers tangled in black hair which only seemed to spur her on.

The pain steadily faded, leaving behind only a tingling sensation. It stopped her brain from putting together any coherent thought, almost as if being drunk without the actual alcohol. But blood loss instead. Nicole tugged lightly on Cassandra's hair when dizziness started to make itself present. When that did nothing, she pulled with slightly more force.

"Cassandra-" she let out a pained groan, mild panic slipping into her voice.

That made the brunette snap out of it, forcefully pulling herself back and eyeing the bloody mess on Nicole's shoulder. She caught the redhead by the arms for support when she slumped forward slightly, pinching the bridge of her nose with a soft ugh. How much blood can a human lose again? Fourteen percent? And Nicole was also quite small.

Cassandra stretched to grab a tissue from the nightstand and pressed it against the puncture wounds, frowning when Nicole flinched at the pain it caused.

"Uh...are you okay?"

Nicole took a deep breath before replying. "-m good. You should...uh go though. I'll go lay down and-...and meet you after dinner." Then she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to try to alleviate the dizziness and tried to stand up.

Cassandra grimaced at how wobbly Nicole's movement's were and guided her back down, on the soft mattress. The redhead didn't protest, not that she really could anyways.

"No. Stay here, you're no good if you just fall and crack your skull open against a stairwell."

"But-"

Cassandra ignored her, only pushing her down to rest against one of the many pillows littering the bed. "No buts, this is an order from your lady. Now take a nap or something and I'll fetch you after dinner."

Nicole saw her turn around and exit the room, door shutting with a heavy thump. She felt too dizzy to try and fight back. And after all, why would she? The bed was incredibly soft, almost as if it was cradling her small body, inviting her to fall asleep. She slowly pulled one of the blankets up to her waist and positioned herself in such a way that the tissue wouldn't fall from her shoulder. A short nap was all she needed, then she'd be up by the time dinner was done. It only took shutting her eyes for a few seconds to fall asleep, the haze in her mind receding into comforting nothingness.

---

Hot. She felt so incredibly hot. How could Cassandra sleep amongst all these pillows and blankets in the middle of August?

She groaned and stirred, tissue forgotten and covered in dry blood by now. She turned around, trying to find a colder spot and sighed contently upon finding a cool pillow to bury her face into.

Since when did pillows hum?

Nicole snapped her eyes open and jerked backwards, realizing that the "pillow" was Cassandra's side, who apparently had returned from dinner and was now laying in bed with a book.

"I- I'm sorry! I think I overslept and-"

She was interrupted by a slender finger on her lips.

"Get back here, you're so warm."

Too warm, Nicole almost replied but Cassandra's hand mowed from her lips to trace her jawline and neck. Then,when it got to her nape, she pulled the redhead back on her chest, cheek resting on the cool skin.

Nicole froze for a moment but soon melted into the touch. Presumably one of the perks of being an undead being was never getting too hot. At least temperature-wise. She tentatively snaked an arm around the brunette's waist and, when there was no protest, she shifted her body closer against hers.

Checking the time didn't even occur to Nicole until her eyes fell on one of the windows, noticing it was pitch black beyond the glass.

"Shouldn't we have…" she just vaguely gestured, not even sure what they were supposed to do that day in the dungeons.

"Here's one of the perks of working with me darling: if I don't feel like doing anything then congratulations, you've got yourself a day off. Now why don't you enjoy it hmm."

She emphasized her words by bringing her free hand to Nicole's head, nails lightly scratching the scalp. But Nicole was wide awake, despite the pleasant sensation that elicited a content hum from her.

There were so many things to take in that she hadn't noticed earlier. Just like her study, Cassandra's bedroom was like a collection of glimpses into her. The desk was littered with papers and oddly modern drawing supplies, the kind you would get by entering the art supply store down the road from her college dorm. A mannequin in the corner of the room was wearing a most likely tailor made dress, complete with what looked like a matching sword. The wall she could see was half covered in bookshelves, half in deer antlers or horns of different animals. Some had labels with dates underneath them that were too far to read, but Nicole managed to decipher one that said 08.06.1982.

She didn't want to risk losing her precious head scratches in order to explore the other half of the room, so her eyes settled on the one thing she could see without moving. The book in Cassandra's other hand.

"What're you reading?"

Cassandra sighed, realizing that she was still awake but answered anyway.

"Watership down."

She giggled, still a bit lightheaded. "Bunnies…"

Cassandra rolled her eyes, not quite in the mood to go on a lengthy discourse about the themes of said "bunnies". She opted to change the topic instead, voice oddly soft.

"How's your head?"

"Mmm...dizzy."

"Sleep then."

"My room is too far away."

"Sleep here you dumbass."

Nicole was silent for a few moments, putting together the few coherent thoughts still lingering in her brain. Then, trying not to slur her words due to dizziness and sleepiness alike:

"Isn't that against protocol? Do you even have a protocol?"

"The protocol is that our staff serves my family. Right now you're keeping me warm. There, congratulations on performing your duties. Now go to sleep."

The redhead gave in, too tired to keep on annoying Cassandra. She nuzzled her face closer to the brunette's neck leaving a small peck on her collarbone and closed her eyes. The nails still scratching at her scalp, occasionally moving to run through long auburn locks proved more than efficient at lulling her to sleep. She could swear she felt a soft, almost imperceptible kiss on the top of her head before consciousness fully slipped away from her

[shadow-scenarios]

aaaa i absolutely love your date hcs about the characters!! may i ask for hcs about sae & takemi (separately) date hcs as well if that's alright? if you don't write for them please disregard this request!!

Hi Anon, I’m glad you liked my date headcanons!! Since you asked me so nicely, I’ll do them & add the characters to my Masterlist. You didn’t specify gender so I made them gender neutral like last time. Feel free to tell me otherwise and I can edit in pronouns. I hope you’re having a nice day, honey!!

Just a little note: I’m not used to writing Takemi & Sae so if they seem out of character, I sincerely apologise.

- Nexus.

{ Sae Niijima }

✧ Although Sae lives a busy life as a prosecutor & caretaker for Makoto, she would definitely find the time for dates with her significant other. However, they must be understanding if it were to ever be cut short or cancelled due to the nature of her job. Dates are few and far between but filled with intimate moments. Time spent with them means the world to her and she would cherish those moments in her heart.

✧ Because of her inherent fixation on keeping a job & being financially stable, Sae struggles with date locations. For the first few, they would have to take the lead in order to acquaint her to typical places. It takes some time but she eventually learns both her own & their preferences.

✧ If they want to go out somewhere, she’ll relectantly agree. Getting dressed up is not that much of a dealbreaker for her, especially when it gives her the chance to compliment their style of dress. Fine dining is a must at the very least, Sae loves to be able to have a casual conversation whilst sipping from a glass of wine. However, due to financial reasons, this does not occur very often.

✧ Sae learns that her favourite type of dates are ones where she doesn’t have to think about work or stress. Sitting on the couch after Makoto has headed up to her bedroom & watching movies on the couch with ice cream is comforting. They can simply slip on casual clothes and although there’s little cuddling, leaning on Sae’s shoulder simply reminds her that there is someone in her corner.

✧ Eventually, they would fall asleep and awaken the next morning in a bedroom with a text on their phone telling them Sae had to leave for work early but did not want to disturb them for they looked so striking, even in casual clothing.

{ Tae Takemi }

✧ Regretably, there are not that many dates with her. Takemi runs a clinic & most likely does not have the most free time. Due to the fact that she is a general practitioner she is more likely to be free. However, this comes with a quid pro quo. She must always keep her phone on in case of an emergency due to her links with Oyamada, which does not happen often but can be disheartening.

✧ When she is called, Takemi will drop the date. They understand that saving the life of others is much more important. However, it is not all storm clouds. Takemi wistfully remarks that the Plague must spread disease elsewhere & promises to make it up to them for next time.

✧ Her approach to dates is rather lax. She would enjoy going somewhere more casual such as Inokashira Park but also wouldn’t be opposed to anything fancier. As long as she is informed about what to wear beforehand, there will be no complaints from her.

✧ Throughout the entire date, her sardonic sense of humour would lighten the mood. Takemi is very good at reading the room when needed. She is also not afraid to use pet names in public { she wears a choker to work, of course she is not!! }.Although not as degrading as ‘Guinea Pig’, they are definitely not sappy & sweet like a traditional lover. Hand holding is held to a minimum but she is daring, pressing a chaste kiss to their forehead at the end of each date.

✧ It may not count as a traditional date but Takemi ensures to have medical checkups with them at least once a month, if not more. Because of her caring nature & love for them, she wants to ensure to herself that her significant other’s health is in correct order. It reassures her, as she is a woman of facts & logic. They are in very capable hands!!

Word Count: 600

Publish Date: 27.09.20

[writing-is-sexy]

Chapter One

From the backseat of this oh so familiar white sedan I watch as buildings turn into houses, until we stop in front of a small blue house with cream colored accents. On the front porch there was a bench swing, with a girl who looks to be the same age as me sitting reading a book. Susan, my case worker turns to look at me and says, "I have a feeling this will be your last foster home."

After pulling my things from the trunk, Susan and I walk up to the porch to be met by my new foster family. The husband and wife walk out the front door, greeting us with a smile. They seem nice, but they always do. The husband is tall, at least 6'3". He has dark blonde hair and dark blue eyes to match. He sticks out his hand waiting for me to take it in mine. "I'm Luke, welcome Victoria."

Wow, this is the first family to actually get my name right. I take ahold of his hand and shake it with a slight smile as the wife begins to introduce herself. Her name is Rebecca, she is about a foot shorter than Luke and has pitch black hair. She has blue eyes as well, but hers are lighter they look like spring water. Their daughter, Megan, introduces herself quickly before burying herself back into her book. Megan looks so much like her mother, but has her dad's blonde hair. Luke opens the door to the house and we all follow him inside.

The house is beautiful inside, it has an open floor plan between the living room and kitchen. This is definitely the nicest house I have been in, in a long time. I notice pictures of Megan that go all the way back to her as a baby. This house would give any who walks in it a safe, happy feeling. We walk up the stairs to a hallway with four doors. One for Luke and Rebecca's room, one for Megan's room, a bathroom, and my room. There's a door in both Megan and in my room that connects our rooms to the bathroom. Oncr the door opens I'm in awe of my new room , but I don't want to get too settled in. It never lasts long. My room has a matching bedroom set made out of dark mahogany wood. There is a white and black comforter set on the bed with scripture style wording and the Eifle Tower on it, it was beautiful.

"We're not sure what you like, if it's not your style we can change it Victoria," Rebecca says with a sweet smile.

"No, this is great," I reply honestly.

As I'm looking around the room Luke begins to speak, "We'll let you get comfortable while we go downstairs and finish up with Susan."

Susan gives me a hug before they make their way down the stairs. I put my duffle bag on the bed and begin putting my things in the drawers. When I finish there is a light tap on the door, before Megan pushes it open and makes her way to the bed and hoping on it.

"You know, I've never had a foster sibling before. I didn't even know my parents wanted to foster a kid until about to days ago," Megan informs me, which makes me anything but comfortable. "But I think this will be a good thing, I've always wanted a sister," she adds.

"Well out of all the foster families I've stayed with, your family seems the nicest." I tell Megan, she responds with a smile.

"Tomorrow morning my mom is going to bring us to school a little early so we can pick up your schedule and I will show you around school. Don't worry we don't bite." She laughs before going on, motioning for me to sit down on the bed with her. So I do.

Never has any of my foster siblings wanted to know about me and my story, but Megan did. So I began the story about how I ended up in foster care. My parents and I were your typical family, we were happy. My mom was a school teacher and my dad was a firefighter, they were married for three years before they had me. One night at about two in the morning some people broke into our house. My mom ended up emptying out a dresser drawer in their room and hiding me in it before the intruders ended up shooting my parents. A detective ended up hearing me whine and found me in the drawer. My grandparents were too old to take me in and I didn't have any other family, so they had no other choice but to put me in foster care.

Megan wipes her tears away as Rebecca opens the door to the room and says, "Dinner is done, I'm glad to see you guys are getting to know each other."

Megan and I both get off the bed and follow Rebecca downstairs for dinner. Rebecca informs me that dinner will be done typically around six pm every night and that we eat at the dinner table together. While we eat we all make small talk, trying to get to know each other a little bit more. I try to keep it light, opening up to one person was enough for me tonight. I help clear the table once we are all finished, then I excuse myself back to my room.

Picking out my clothes for the morning is pretty easy considering I only have five shirts, three pairs of pants, a pair of shorts, and a pair of two year old Chucks for shoes. I pick out a Aerosmith ripped tee with a white tank top and my dark blues jeans to go with it. Before climbing into bed I grab my copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, that is almost completely falling apart from how many times I have read it. I pull out a faded picture of my parents holding me in the hospital room. It's crazy how you can miss someone you barely knew, but I miss them so much. Sometimes I wonder how things would be different if there were still around, I wonder if I would even be the person I am today if they were here.

The next I get up early enough to take a shower and do my hair. As I'm finishing up Megan knocks on the door, letting me know it's time to go. Megan is wearing a floral dress with a pair of white wedges to go with, her hair was up in a high ponytail. Arianna Grande would be jealous of how high her ponytail is. Rebecca drives us to school before she heads to work herself, before I get out of the car Rebecca gives me a phone.

"All of are numbers are already programmed into it for you. I know how teenagers can't live without these things." Rebecca laughs. "I hope you have a good day."

I thank her as I slip the phone into my back pocket. This was actually my first phone, my foster families prior never trusted me enough to give me one or didn't care. After we get my schedule from the front office, Megan takes it to see if we have any classes together.

"Yay! We have Alegbra 2 and lunch together." Megan exclaims.

Megan does her best showing me around and showing me my locker before the bell for first period goes sounds. Doing my best to follow Megan's instructions, I end up getting to first period a few minutes late. I hate opening the door after everyone has sat down and class has begun because when I walk in everyone looks at me and I was right.

"Looks like there's a new girl," someone says from the back of the classroom.

I introduce myself as the teacher welcomes me, then I make my way to an empty desk I notice by the window. I take out my brand new notebook and begin taking notes until class is over. Once the bell chimes again, I pack up my things and begin to my next class.

"Hey new girl!" I hear the same voice as earlier call out. I turn around and see a blonde boy who's hair may just be as curly as mine coming my way. He has chocolate brown eyes, which are surprisingly breath taking. "Who's class are you heading to now?" He asks.

As I pull my schedule out of my pocket he grabs it from my hand and reads it.

"Excuse me." I say as I try to grab it back but he's too quick.

"Mr. Harvarty, that's right next door to my class. I'll show you the way so you're not late. I'm Ben." He introduces himself, while leading the way.

"I'm Tori." I reply, grabbing my schedule from his hand before he could pull it away again.

Ben does most of the talking as we walk to class, making sure to inform me about all the best teachers and the teacher I should avoid getting on the bad side of. Before we make it to our next class Ben informs me about the football game this Friday and suggests that I should go. Making no promises, I tell him we will see as we approach our next class.

"Alrighty Victoria, this is you." Ben smiles as he points to the next class.

"Thank you, Benjamin." I say and he laughs before we part ways.

The rest of the day goes fairly quickly, when the bell goes off dismissing us from out last class I meet up with Megan by the flag pole before we go to the car. Luke is picking us up from school, which I now know is the normal routine. He asks us about our day, before he tells us about his. Megan tells her dad about the test she just finished and how she hopes she's going to pass.

When we get back to the house we go our separate ways, I assume Megan is going to do her homework like me. I put my school stuff on the desk that is looking out the window to the backyard. It's the perfect spot to get my homework done, unlike most of my foster homes. Typically if I wanted to get my homework done I would have to sneak off to the closest library. The library is the closest thing I can call home, it has given me the most peace over the years.

"Hey Tori," Megan says as knocks on the door.

"Come in," I instruct her, and she does.

"So I heard you made a new friend." Megan laughs as she raises her eyebrows at me. I give her a confused look, I have a feeling I know who she's talking about. "You knooow, Ben!"

"He just showed me to class." I tell her, boys are the last thing on my mind. Plus, I'm never in the same place long enough to even want to give anything a shot. He sure is cute though.

[static-fanatic-1]

Before We Begin

-| Stuck at a StandStill |-

StandStill: Prologue

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Mentions of blood and broken bones, Bullying, Anxiety attacks, Creepy behavior.

A girl covered in blood and dirt howled, scrapping at the concrete slab that had fallen on her leg with cracked nails. Fat tears streamed down her rosy cheeks when it seemed as if no one was coming for her, her once silvery eyes now blood shot from crying. "Papa!" The little girl hyperventilated when she was given no reply, hand shaking as blood pooled underneath the fallen debris, is this how she dies? Barely even ten and crushed by debris caused by a villain? "Momma! Daddy!"

Thousands of questions ran inside her head, shaking her body to the core with the unrelenting fear of death. The small girl croaked out a long cry, tears and snot making her look all the more pathetic as she flutily clawed at the concrete. "Papa! Papa-!" Loud shifting resonated from above, the fallen walls of the large building she was in moving aside to make way for a hulking figure. Whoever it was was framed in an ethereal, golden glow from the setting sun, like an angel sent from heaven to save the ten-year-old.

The bulky figure swiftly tossed away the fallen wall and jumped down into the cavern, flinging the concrete slab like it was a leaf and wrapping the child in his large arms. His muscles tensed at the loud booms above, the villain clearly ruining more of the city, but that did nothing to deter the figure's bright smile when he looked down. "What's your name, kid?" His voice will be forever engrained in her memory as an enthusiastic theatrical of hope.

"Aiko." The little girl meekly replied, curling into his muscular arms for some form of comfort.

"Well Aiko Shonen, everything will be fine. Why? Because I am here, All Might!" The bunny like hairs on his head waved as his smile only grew. Aiko only ever felt so safe around her papa, and this All Might figure made her feel just as safe as she would feel in her papa's arms.

A deep rumble echoed through the cavern, the hero's smile faltering the slightest bit, but quickly returned when he crouched down and jumped out of the cavern. Wind rushed through her long white drapes, her doe like eyes glowing from the immense strength the blond possessed. An old man dressed in hero's wear sped past All Might, the little girl following the yellow blur to what was happening behind her.

That was a mistake.

A deep feeling of dread washed over the entirety of Aiko small frame and made her feel utterly sick. A man clad in a crisp black suit loomed above all else. Red lightning like sparks shooting through the sky as his bulky frame floated above the toppled buildings and skyscrapers. Just how many bodies were under those buildings? And that mask, that terrifying, black, skull-like mask would forever be burned into her memory like a horribly large scar. Under his pristine black shoes were villains and heroes alike, bloodied and broken and dying.

A large hand turned her facing the sunset, a beautiful display of deep purples and bloody reds littered with fluffy stained clouds. "Don't worry, Aiko Shonen... you are safe now." All Might's bright, toothy grin brought her only more discomfort, it felt strained and off, as if he didn't believe his own words.

A certain yellow blur knocked Aiko and All Might out of the sky and into the debris of a near by building, a loud boom and an intense vacuum of air brushing past. The larger than life blond shielded her from the fall, sliding down and holding her close to his heaving chest. "Toshinori, watch out! Don't look away for one second or you'll give him the advantage!" Scolded the older man, not realizing All Might was carrying a small child in his arms.

"Perfect timing Gran Torino, take Aiko Shonen and get her out of here!" He handed her off to the elder, leaving nothing but dust in his wake as he jumped back into the fight. "Have Nighteye take her somewhere safer!"

Gran Torino swiftly pulled her into his arms and dashed away from the villain. The two made it safely out of the danger zone, a new, slim figure running to Torino. "Take her, T-All Might needs my help against All For One." His gruff voice reverberated off the fallen walls of what used to be a wealthy district. Once again, she was thrust into the hold of another hero, wincing at her broken leg.

Sir. Nighteye dashed across the debris ridden streets, blood and bodies littering them like trash. Aiko whimpered and curled in on herself, each and every detail of the villain attack being engraved into her brain. Not even a moment later she was given to a random citizen, probably a nurse or doctor from a nearby hospital. The citizen took her somewhere safer, away from the villains and heroes.

Aiko looked back one more time, All For One and All Might clashing against each other like titans or gods fighting for the mortal realm. Maybe that's what the fight is about, two titans fighting for power over the weak. That's what it looked like at least, wind pressure from their attacks brought more walls toppling down. She bit her bottom lip, being carried away from the carnage of the clashing gods.

~~~

White hair rushed through the small bedroom, scrambling to find her favorite pencil she must have dropped last night. She ducked under her bedframe, no not there, what about under her desk? Not there either. "Come on!" She whined, shuffling through sketchbooks and notebooks for the fifth time just to find her favorite mechanical pencil. "Oh, thank god!" She exclaimed, grabbing the old pencil, and stuffing it into her bag.

Quickly she collected the rest of her things and rushers out of her room. "Aiko! Hurry up you're going to be late!" Yelled her mother, a woman with a thin yet pear shaped frame and deep bags under her dull violet eyes. A messy bun made of curly turquoise hair rest upon her head. Her shrill voice echoed through the halls and into her room, drenching the little girl with a new sense of urgency.

"I'm leaving!" She reaffirmed. She dashed through the house to the front door. Slipping off her house shoes she quickly put on her outside shoes before opening the door.

"Oi! Aiko, where's my goodbye kiss?" Snarled a new figure, large and muscular with deep brown hair and yellow eyes. He tapped a thick finger against his cheek as he leaned closer to his adopted daughter's form.

Quickly she slipped off her outside shoes, she had quickly learned to never wear them on the floor, and leaned to kiss the man on the cheek. She returned to the front and waved a goodbye as she scurried out of the small house.

The young girl brushed her white hair out of her face, her roller blades now clipped onto the bottom of her shoes. Slinging her backpack securely on her back, she dipped out of the front yard and skated her way to public school.

Wind rushed through long locks of hair, her curly bangs framing her face as she sped through the busy sidewalks. Wide, hopeful, doe-like eyes watched the trees blur past. People and faces smudged by her speed, a grumpy pedestrian yelling at her to slow down. "Sorry sir!" She yelled back.

Aiko sighed at the sight of pink Sakura trees in the distance, indicating how close she was to her school. Skating past the iron gates and into the school, she threw her shoes into her locker and rushed into her homeroom class with only a few seconds to spare.

The skinny teacher glared at her. "You were almost late, again." His hands fell to his hips in a relaxed pose, eyes boring into the much smaller figure. If you moved his impossibly long blond bangs you would be able to see the orange, slitted eyes he had.

"Sorry Hagake Sensei, I woke up late again." She scratched the back of her neck and waved an apology.

"You can't be late if you want to be a hero, Aiko." He scolded, the thin tail and small cat ears waving disapprovingly. "Anyway, everyone here wants to be a hero so I'll go ahead and give you all the course selections." The cat-quirk teacher stalked through the desks, handing out papers that would change everyone's lives.

"Komori, you were going for UA right? Aiko, you too?" She sheepishly nodded when the orange eyes glanced into her own, taking thick strands of her hair and covering her mouth and cheeks with it. A habit she had developed after the incident. Her ice blue eyes looked over to the other name called, a young yet surprisingly fit boy with an impressive quirk.

Komori, a young man with a bat quirk and the physic to make it powerful. He was tall for his age, with a slim yet strong build, the only thing that wasn't conventionally attractive were the thick glasses on his button nose. But even then he made them look good. He had large ears, long fangs, a thin tail and huge wings draped behind his back. Pale, almost grey skin, with sharp purplish-red eyes complimented his short, yet messy, black hair.

————————————————

Name: Komori Suzuki

Quirk: Bat Mix

Quirk Details: Komori's quirk is pretty self-explanatory, he is a bat. Wings, tail, ears and fangs, he has both White-Winged Flying Fox (Mother—Kistune Suzuki) and Common Vampire Bat (Father—Kyūkestuki Suzuki). He has the best of both bats at his disposal.

————————————————

He cackled. "Ha! Really? That coward can't become a hero! Look at her, and her quirk is useless for hero work. The only thing she's good at is being a housewife!" Waving his leathery wings and kicking his feet up on the desk he continued to laugh at her flustered expression.

Komori could only be described as a misogynistic bastard. Aiko and him used to be friends, but when he was young he started all misogynistic towards her, typically using the housewife card against her. Still, throughout the years the two of them stuck around each other. Maybe it was a sense of familiarity between the two of them?

The girl shrunk into her chair, pulling her hair closer to her face. "I can be a hero...." Her soft tone drifted off until nothing but a pen dropping could be heard.

"Eh? What was that? You want to be a hero to avenge your old man?" He jumped on the desk and leaned down, the pearly fangs flashing dangerously. "There's no way you'd be able to do that, you can't to anything for yourself! You're just a damn damsel in distress, so give up."

The teacher glared at him and smacked a clawed hand on the back of his neck. "Shut it Komori! You'll never be a hero with that attitude!" Sensei growled and handed the both of you your papers. "It won't hurt to try, Aiko." He reassured with a pat on the girl's shoulder.

"R-right." Komori got up from the floor and glared at the teacher comforting the smaller girl. He scoffed and returned to his desk, there was no reason for him to be so mean to her, but he did anyway. Maybe he took a sadistic pleasure in messing with her.

"Anyway, this is due tomorrow," waved the teacher as he sauntered back up to the front of the rowdy class. "I forgot to give it to you guys on Monday so don't forget. If you guys don't turn it in tomorrow you won't be going to a hero school." He waited for an answer, his eye twitching when he didn't get one. "Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" Yelled the class.

~~~

Aiko leaned on her tippy toes to grab her outside shoes and clip-on roller blades, jumping when a clawed hand slammed beside her locker. She squealed and whipped around, coming face to face with collared shirt. "Wh-What do you want, Komori?"

Glazed over plum eyes glared through thick lenses. "Why do you even want to be a hero? It's not like you'll be able to fix what the villain did so you should just give up." His throat rumbled a growl. "Seriously, you should just leave it to me, I'll get the job done unlike you." The violent eyes hardened slightly at her scared expression. "Seriously, Sweetheart, you'll get your weak-ass self hurt."

The white haired girl glanced up and shriveled into the locker. "I-I'm still going to try... Sensei said I should."

Komori opened his mouth as if he was about to say something but was interrupted by a few other delinquents. He scoffed when she dipped past his arms and wings and ran out of the school, struggling to run and clip on her skates. "When are you gonna kiss her Komori? Seriously you've been closing in on her from the beginning." Chattered one friend.

"Oh fuck off, she's just going to get herself killed." The aspiring bat hero puffed his chest and flared his wings. "And what type of hero would I be if I didn't try to save a lady-in-waiting, huh?"

Aiko stumbled past the school gates, recommendation paper in hand. Once she made it far enough she dipped into a dark alleyway and curled onto the ground. Fat yet silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she did her best to calm her anxiety. The girl tightly gripped her hair and shoved it in her face trying to calm herself. "Breathe... breathe... breathe...." She chanted.

Slowly but surely her anxiety levels died down with her calming strategy. She wiped away her tears and sipped on the last of her left over water. "Brrreeeeaaaaatttthhhhheeee...." She tensed at the buzz in her pocket, pulling out her small flip phone to see who texted her.

[Mr. Takahashi] 'Get some Tokoyaki on the way home.'

[Aiko] 'Yes Sir.'

She bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brows, waiting for a reply, luckily there was none so she relaxed. Taking her leave out of the alleyway, the small girl made her way over to the best Tokoyaki shop nearby.

A loud boom erupted out of the same street the shop was on, Aiko worriedly rushing over to the sound. Smoke covered the skies as more explosions went off. A chattery crowd formed at the street entrance, but Aiko wasn't worried about what was happening. She quickly pulled out her phone and started texting.

[Aiko] 'I'm sorry, I'm going to be late. The shopping district is under attack by a villain.'

She worriedly waited for a reply, doing her best to shuffle through the crowd to get a good look at the commotion. A blond, skeleton of a man coughed his way next to you, leaning on a lamppost and looking above the crowd. "Sir? What-what is going on?"

The blond slightly jumped in surprise at the delicate voice, looking down and taking in the little girl standing before him. Something about her seemed familiar, though he couldn't exactly place it. "A villain, nothing to worry about the heroes will take care of it." In all honesty, he couldn't exactly see everything that was going on. Between the explosions and smoke, all he could see was the sludge villain he failed to detain.

His deep, sultry voice calmed her, but the intense expression he wore had the opposite effect. Biting her bottom lip, she shuffled her way to the front of the crowd. Pedestrians around her worriedly talking to themselves, every time another explosion went off they would flinch. She would too.

Finally squeezing to the front of the crowd she saw what was happening. An ash-blond, about her age, writhed inside the sludge monster, gasping every time he could get some air. He screamed when his mouth was free, a violent cry for help that no hero seemed to be answering.

Aiko took a step closer, the water hero yelling at her to stay back. "He-He needs help! He'll die if no one helps him!" She screamed back, staring at the hero with a pleading expression. "You guys need to save him!"

"We can't, no one here can stop that villain. We are holding off until someone more prepared saves him!"

'He can't wait that long', she thought, looking at the frustrated features of the blond middle schooler. But she waited, too afraid to mess up and make things worse. Her quirk would only make things worse.

Anxiously she held her hair to her face, waiting for someone more adapt to the villain to save whoever was trapped. People happily cheered a new hero, Mt. Lady running to the scene. She stopped however, obviously she wouldn't be able to help with her quirk.

The small female was pushed to the side, another middle schooler, this time with fluffy dark green hair, stared at the scene in front of him. His freckles face contorted to a look of pure horror, a strained voice quietly calling out a name. "Kacchan!"

She watched as his feet controlled his body, taking him into the smoke ridden streets to the sludge monster. She gasped and lunged forward to grab him but missed, the small boy slipping through her fingers.

"Kacchan!" He yelled, tossing his backpack into the villain's face.

Aiko watched with admiration for the obviously weaker boy who ran in like a true hero. The ash blond also thrashing with strength and aggression she would never have. Unlike Aiko, they looked like they would be fine heroes.

She is a coward, too afraid to even try in fear of ruining everything. It reminded her of what happened six years ago, how helpless she was when all hell broke loose, how she was saved by All Might before loosing everything. She was frustrated, small tears dripping down her face at her pathetic display of bravery.

Wind smacked her long hair in her face, bringing her back to the present. It was him, All Might! The best hero to ever exist rushing to stop the bad guy and save the kids.

With a single punch, her hero saved the day. The once blue skies turning a dark grey and drenching the debris covered streets. Her tears replaced by cold rain as the crowd waited for All Might to make a move.

He raised his fist high, stumbling only Aiko seemed to notice, but remained victorious none the less. The once silent crowd burst into cheers, praises and hallelujahs for the savior of the two middle schoolers.

A ping from her pocket took her away from the heroic sight. With a heavy hand the little girl looked at the messages flooding her texts.

[Mr. Takahashi] 'Hurry up.'

Quickly she replied back.

[Aiko] 'Yes Sir.'

She would have to appreciate All Might and the middle schoolers online once she got back home. Swiftly Aiko squeezed past the crowd and skated over to the nearest Tokoyaki stall.

~~~

Unlocking the front door and balancing the packaged Tokoyaki drained the last of Aiko's energy. She took off her shoes and plopped the food onto the kitchen counter.

Mrs. Takahashi undid the wrapping, disregarding the younger girl and the paper in her hands. "Go do your homework, Aiko."

"You have to sign this. It's for the hero courses I want to sign up for." A small hand calmly pushed the paper in front of her adopted mother, a delicate smile upon her features.

"Fine, here." The azure haired woman signed the paper, the man of the household walking up behind the two.

"Hero courses huh? You better sign up for UA and get in, you'd be able to pay for our retirement!" The brown haired man bellowed, taking some of the food Aiko brought home and stuffing it into his mouth. "Seriously, you better get into UA." He scolded through chewing.

"Yes sir, I was planning on doing that." Thinking about All Might, the middle schoolers and all the reasons she want to be a hero to begin with, if she had the opportunity she would take it. This was her opportunity and no one would change her mind.

She took her food and went to her room, finishing up her homework and taking a shower. Now with her sleepwear on, all her homework finished, she plopped into her bed.

Aiko's light blue eyes glanced over to a treasured photo, the moonlight seeping from the closed blinds providing just enough light to illuminate the three of the six figures. She was very young when her family took the picture, her host mother and host father's smiles bringing a pang of joy through her heart. Her host mother had long, pink hair and a curvaceous body, while her host father was a muscular lean figure with pitch black skin and sharp teeth.

The fifteen year old decided to wear a yellow sundress that day, a big smile knowing her family was standing behind her. She wished they were still here and she wasn't with Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi... but that was too much to wish for.

She curled in on herself under the thick covers, letting the sweet memories of her past lull her into a dreamless slumber.

[gvf-imagine]

Part 2

A/N: as always feedback is welcome! I hope you all enjoy it ❣️also if you would like to be added to the tag list just message me

Tag list: @karrotkate @satingrass-maidensfair @justacollegestudentyay @love-philautia @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair

Word count: 3206

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It had been a week since the festival show with Greta Van Fleet, you found yourself listening to their songs on a daily basis and every once in a while you smile absentmindedly as thoughts of them ran through your head. That night with the boys ended with passion and insight. After having that moment with them in that field of lush grass they went back to their bus and you went back to yours feeling like a whole new chapter of your life had begun and you knew for a fact that would not be the last time you'd see them. You truly liked all of them, Josh made you laugh, Danny made you feel safe, Jake made you feel reckless and free, and Sammy brought you a certain aspect of self-involved peace. They all had great qualities about them that made them special to you in the short time that you were with them. They left an impression and you couldn't help but wonder if you'd left one on them.

Unfortunately the alcohol that swirled in your veins caused you to stumble into a sleepy stupor and by the time you woke up , hazzy, with a migraine, your tour bus was already long gone from Los Angeles and headed back home. You cursed yourself for not getting at least one of their numbers before going your separate ways. In the week since, you had been spending your time with yourself mostly. Lounging around your apartment, catching up on sleep and some of your favorite netflix series. Now it was friday morning and you had just woken up, not by choice but rather from the sound of some ungodly loud construction worker who was jack hammering the pavement like it owed him money. The sun was up, the birds were chirping, it was another typical day in your small town. Immediately upon waking your body craved caffeine, you hadn't drank at all last night so the headache slamming in your brain was surely due to the lack of said caffeine in your bloodstream. Nothing a quick cup of coffee couldn’t fix. In your ever flattering attire of jogging pants and a tank top, you moved down the hall to your kitchen, the sun shining through your windows and warming your skin like a gentle hello. 

As the coffee brews you look at your phone, no messages or calls, which is not unusual as you don't have many friends or family still in the area. You open your instagram page with a flick of your thumb and you can't stop the smile that paints its way across your face when you see you had four new followers, Josh , Sam, Jake, and Danny had all found their way to your account, you followed them all back instantly and spent the next half an hour sipping your coffee and going through their photos. Four such gorgeous men literally at your fingertips, you were smiling so much your cheeks began to hurt. When you took a sip of your coffee and were met with a cold liquid you decided that was enough phone time for now, now it was time for a nice hot shower. 

Throughout your shower you absolutely could NOT take your mind off the boys. Josh’s smile filled your mind as water cascaded down your body, relaxing your muscles and awakening your mind. What a beautiful man he is, so gentle and enticing, you licked your lips thinking about him.

The skin on your fingertips began to prune, it was time to get out. You wrapped a warm towel around your body and walked back into your room to get dressed for the day. You settled on a simple outfit, a high waisted jean skirt, with a yellow collared shirt and black knee high stockings. You were doing your makeup when you heard your phone chime in the bathroom, you smack your lips in the mirror, evenly spreading the matte,nude color across your moist lips. You shoot yourself a smile and go to get your phone. 

Josh_gvf: “hey girl, miss me?” 

You laugh , elated that one of them got in contact with you. That must have meant that he was thinking about you, it was good to know you weren't the only one that recognized the connection you felt.

Y: “hey Josh, how'd you know?” You write back perhaps a bit too quickly. You were not ashamed to seem eager, you were eager.

Josh_gvf: “I got a feeling ;) so guess what?” His response comes even quicker than yours. 

Y:”what??” originally you had put three question marks but erased one as it seemed too overzealous. 

Josh_gvf: “were playing in detroit tonight, nothing huge, just a bar show but we'd love it if you would come…..to the show  mean”  You could almost hear his flirtatious tone in your head, he would have shot you a wink as well. God a show sounded wonderful, honestly fuck the show, seeing the boys sounded wonderful. 

Josh_gvf: “of course we would come pick you up, your town is on the way anyways” he sends another message. 

Y: “of course! I’d love to come, what time?” you reply, your heartbeat was quickening in your chest and butterfly wings tickled the sides of your stomach. You were so excited! 

Josh_gvf: “we’ll pick you up around 6 ok? Wear something cute, I need eye candy while im up on stage” more flirtation, god you loved it, you craved it you craved him. His words settled over you, like the warm welcome of an old friend, or that feeling you get when you hear a song you haven't heard in years.

Y: “sounds good and I’ll try my hardest not to disappoint ;)” you write back, you also send him your address. 

Six o’clock was not very far away, only a few hours now. You wondered if you should change your outfit and you decide to find something a bit more tantalizing. 

You dig through your dressers and rummage around in your closet until you've got the perfect outfit put together:  



You looked over yourself in the mirror, happy with your creation, your outfit on, your hair was done and so was your makeup, just a few squirts of perfume and you’d be ready to go.

You were so excited to see them it almost confused you. Why do you like them so much , honestly, you didn’t know them that well even. You couldn’t help it , being around them felt right in every way.

———————————————————

You heard two horn beeps come from outside your apartment. You scramble to the window and see a stretch limo below you, a smiling Danny Wagner hanging out of the sun roof. You practically squeal , grab your phone and run down stairs. When you open the door the boys pile out of the limo to greet you.

“Oh baby” josh winces upon seeing your outfit. His face looked as if though you looked so good it hurt him.

“Enough eye candy?” You question gesturing to yourself.

“You look gorgeous” Sam says grabbing your hand and leading you into a limo.

“Wow you guys get limo rides to your shows? Man My manager just gives me 5 bucks for gas” you joke. Jake laughs loudly as he climbs in the seat next to you.

“It’s good to see you again (y/n)” Jake chimes with a glistening smile, as he rakes his fingers over his head and through his hair. As he moved you caught a whiff of his cologne , it was sweet and very subtle not at all the scent you thought he’d go with.

As the limo begins to move your eyes move to josh who was already looking at you with a hind of mischief on his face. You wondered what he was thinking about.

“You want a drink love?” He asked. Hearing him call you love made your knees weak. His voice was so enticing , like melted chocolate. You wondered if he tasted like melted chocolate too. That satire thought escapes your mind through your mouth as you say “yeah I’d love a drink” you answer, clearing dirty thoughts from your head.

“Southern and seven right?” He asks holding up a bottle of southern comfort.

“Yeah!” You chime , happy he remembered your drink.

“Good because I bought this just for you, girl” josh informs. Your cheeks are blushing and you know it, you can feel the tingling burn on your face.

“Aw you made her blush” Sam comments running his index finger gently down your cheek. Josh looks over to you as he pours your drink. His eyes scan your face , lingering a bit on your lips. He looked at you with hunger as if you were sitting there naked and waiting for his touch. That image sent chills down your spine, he winks at you as he hands you your drink. Suddenly your throat feels dry so you chug the drink with an exasperated sigh when you finish.

“Jesus” Danny says with a chuckle.

“Get her another one” Sam speaks taking your empty glass from you and handing it back to josh. You heard a lighter spark to your right , Jake was lighting a blunt.

Oh that’s why he was being so quiet.

His lips rest around the end and he inhales watching the cherry burn as the smoke slips into his mouth, brushing over her succulent rose lips. He looks at you and smiles as he holds the smoke in then passes you the blunt as he releases.

You take two hits making “O’s” with the smoke as you exhale with a giggle.

“I can do that too” Danny says excitedly, you pass him the blunt and he gives it a try.

“Hmmm no. You can’t” josh states , all of you laugh at Danny’s sad attempt.

“You’ll get it one day” Sam chimes with a smile.

The limo was full of smoke now, you looked around at the boys through the hazy fog. Everyone is quiet now , you sipping your drink and watching the world pass by put the window. The alcohol and the weed were begging to take affect. The alcohol warmed your body while the weed pulled your mind into alleviation... a lusty combination. You were so calm in this moment , you knew this was exactly where you belonged, it just felt right and you hadn’t had the privilege to get that sense of fleeing very many times in your life.

———————————————————

Jakes hand reaches for you, offering his help as you step out of the limo, you accept and thank him. The sun still hung in the sky, blinding the earth unapologetically. The sunshine felt good casted over your skin, with your head still swimming in an elegant haze.

Josh grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him , his hand stays at your hips as you all walk through the door.

“I’m glad you’re hear, love” he coos in your ear before gently kissing your ear lobe. Your knees buckle causing you to wobble slightly, Josh tightens his grip on you and smiles

“Oh she likes it she likes it” he purrs with a wink.

Yeah. you loved it. You wanted more of him, you couldn’t stand the sexual tension anymore, you wanted to feel him and taste him , to know him in that way.

The bar was packed with people , you were sort of surprised. Josh said this wasn’t going to be a big show but it looked pretty big to you, there were people everywhere. Danny hops on the stage and begins tending to his drum set ,making small changes in its position.

“We gotta go on wish us luck” Sam chimes giving you a side hug.

“You don’t need luck Sammy, you guys are the best” you reply before he and Jake join Danny on stage. Josh plays with a piece of your hair , twirling it around his finger looking at you.

“I’m singing for you tonight girly” he whispers , his voice slick with liquor.

His hand trails down your cheek gently as he just looks at you. Seconds later he winks and joins his brothers on stage taking the microphone in his hand. Already the audience was forming and cheering for the boys. You found yourself right in front of the stage, a mass of people on either side of you and the smell of alcohol and smoke hung in the air.

Josh introduced the guys before Jake started to play the opening for ‘when the curtain falls’. A chorus of cheers and motion erupting from the crowd. Josh’s voice was all you could hear, the freeing sound of his bluesy rasp send vibrations through the building. His voice flooded from his mouth and filled the air like bright red fireworks exploding in the sky. He was so talented. The sound of Jakes guitar slices through you like a lightening bolt of sound and energy. Danny’s drums pounded into the crowd, his strong, muscular arms in control of it all. The sound of sam’s bass flooded over you like huge purple waves of calming spirit. He played that bass like it was all he knew how to do, like it was part of him. Song after song the boys held this vitality and vigor and the crowd was eating it up. Josh walked off to the side of the stage for a second before returning with something behind his back. Arms were reaching for him as he walked to the edge of the stage , his eyes meet yours and he brings a rose out from behind him and reaches to hand it to you



You can hear the jealous gasps of girls around you. You smile up at him before he brings the microphone to his lips once more and continues singing. You smell the rose and feel those familiar butterflies in your stomach again. You were in awe, these boys had such raw talent and capability. You know a band is good when they make a bar show feel like a sold out arena. enjoying the music you moved with the crowd , the songs taking control of your body and mind , you forget there’s people around you, you are thrown into a world of your own. You don’t open your eyes again until josh announces that the show was over and offers his thanks and goodbyes to the crowd.

Josh jumps off the stage in immediately walks to you.

“Come here” he utters his hands grab your face before he presses his lips to yours. You are caught off guard but you let him do it, you wanted this just as much as he did. You didn’t know what had gotten into him , perhaps the adrenaline from a wonderful show.

His tongue licks your bottom lip asking for permission before you open your mouth and let his tongue slip in, deepening the kiss and the passion. His hand was now behind your head and wrapped around your waist pulling you further into him. A small moan escapes your lips unintentionally but you couldn’t help it. He balls your hair in his fist as he continues to kiss you.

When he lets you go your face is flushed and his chest is rising and falling with desire. The rest of the night was spent drowning in liquor.

Eventually bar time came around and it was time to get back in the limo. You all stumbled in, you got in first then josh sat on your left and Danny on your right Jake and Sam sat in the seats across from you.

When the limo pulled up to your apartment you sighed sad to leave.

Danny put his arm around you and gave you a hug wishing you a good nights sleep. Sam and Jake did the same , Josh got out and walked to your door to help you out.

He smiles as he walks you to your porch.

“Let me see your phone” he says reaching for it in your pocket. You pull it out and hand it to him happily. He presses a few buttons before handing it back to you.

“There now you have my number “ he says flashing you a smirk.

“Awesome, I’ll text you in a little while to make sure you guys got home ok, give my number to the other guys too ok?” You chime as his hand grabs yours.

“I will” he promises before kissing you on the cheek.

“Thank you for coming tonight” he adds, his voice was softer now.

“Of course it was super fun and you guys did great” you reply. Josh looks back at the limo.

“We should hangout sometime just me and you yeah? We can go to dinner this Saturday if you want, would you like that?” He offers.

“Yeah that sounds great Josh!” You beam. Josh lifts your hand to his lips kissing it gently, looking you in the eye.

“Goodnight (y/n)” he coos

“Goodnight josh” you smile. He winks as he gets back in the limo , you wave until the car is out of sight.

———————————————————

In the week that passed you had gotten in touch with all of the boys , josh did as you asked and gave them all your number, you talked to at least one of them every day.

Tonight was your big date with josh and you were so excited. You found the perfect outfit and couldn’t wait for him to see you in it.

Just then your phone vibrates, you pick it up and look at the message.

Josh: hey girlie , I hate this but I have to cancel our date tonight ... something came up I’m so sorry , I really wanted to see you but I can’t get out of this, I’ll make it up to you though I promise

Your heart sinks as you read the message, you felt upset for josh and hoped everything was ok but at the same time you were really sad that you couldn’t go out with him now.

Y: oh no I hope everything is ok Josh, no worries we will hangout some other time ❣️

You set your phone down and walk to your room to change out of your new outfit. You grab jogging pants and an old ‘quiet riot’ t shirt and head to your living room to spend an uneventful night on the couch.

Hours later you’re scrolling through Instagram. When a post josh is tagged catches your eye. You look at the date and see it was posted one hour ago. It was a picture of him and some girl at a mini golf course. You deflate when you read the caption.

“Fun night with Joshy❣️”

“Something came up huh josh...” you say to yourself with disappointment.

You look at the girls name ‘Andrea hartnet ’.

You flip to your messaging and click on Danny’s name.

Y: hey Danny, does josh know anyone named Andrea?

A few seconds pass before he responded

D: yeah that’s his ex, why?

—————————————————-

To be continued

[cagestark]

Hi I saw you wanted some prompts and how about Hades!Tony and Nature God! Peter fluff. Them Meeting for the first time and falling in love. Them in Tonys Dark castle having dinner. And Then Tony Not going to be so Peter has to make him. Maybe even some smut ;) ALL OF DIS IN ONE. ( Some Daddy Kink. ) P.S I saw you dont write Dark!Tony so just make Tony normal but he's still Hades. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ cause you don't need to be dark and mean to be the king of hell.

You asked for *some* smut and *some* daddy kink but it really just…jumped right out. It got carried away with itself, I was just stuck along for the ride. I hope this is remotely something that you asked for and that you enjoy! Leave a prompt anytime, this was a joy. And it definitely needs a pt. 2… 

Hades!Tony is dying. He picks up Dionysus!Peter, because that’s the perfect cure. Or at least, the best way to die. Some notes here: I know little about Greek mythology, but I do know that everybody is everybody’s relative. Not in this. Consider familial relationships to be explicitly stated, and if not stated, then non-existent. No incest here. Peter is, like, ancient too. Probably still too young for the antis. I really made the mythology my own too lmao. Sorry.

Read here on AO3.

5k. Daddy Kink, ahoy!

-

Everything comes to an end, and thinking that he would be the exception had been a very mortal move.

Tony, who is sometimes called Hades, stands looking into an ornate mirror. The room is dimly lit, but the evidence is impossible to overlook: there is gray in his beard and at his temples. He turns his head this way and that to see it from every angle, frowning deeply. When had those lines begun to bracket his mouth when he smiled or frowned? It must have happened gradually for him to have not noticed before, subtle like sands slipping down an hourglass.

He’s been in this general form for five decades now. Being nearly as old as time itself can get dreadfully droll if stuck with the same appearance. Like most of his divine kin, he likes to switch it up every century or so. Illusions can help, but even without the extra influence, a deity’s appearance changes over time. Humans evolve in that way, their brow bones receding, noses thinning and figures lengthening. In many way, the gods evolve too.

This carefully cultivated visage contains no illusions and was the result of centuries of time leaving their influence on him, an amalgamation of his preferences and his personality. The eyes, dark, as he prefers. The hair, soft and thick and (previously) black. His lips are full, fit for seductive smiles and sinister snarls. And even if, as the years had past, this face had grown—not older, he won’t say older, let’s say more mature—it was just a reflection of his changing disposition. Even the god of the Underworld had to put away childish things sometime, he told himself.

Except now, something about his disposition is turning him gray. It’s giving him crow’s feet and joints that ache. Some part of him, even if subconscious, is getting old.

He is dying.

-

When he steps out of the ground at the base of Mt. Olympus, it is hot and dry and so fucking bright. The tinted glasses he wears do nothing to diminish the sunlight that blinds him for several long moments, no matter how he tries to blink himself used to it. Illusions are firmly in place to disguise his aging appearance.

The acropolis is visible once his eyes have stopped stinging: it’s large and ugly, and the stables smell like shit because even immortal horses defecate. The horses in the Underworld don’t—they’re dead and lovely.

Everywhere he goes in the palace, someone tries to stop him. Seeing his brother in the flesh is an entire affair, and he hasn’t sent any message announcing his arrival. It’s been centuries since he’s even set foot above ground, so he tries not to sniff indignantly that no one recognizes him. Sick of being interrogated, he makes himself invisible (it’s a crime though—he looks so cut and handsome in his three-piece suit) and strolls leisurely all the way to Zeus’s chambers.

Zeus has a handsome mortal man in his bed, as he is wont to do. They make a lovely picture, both muscled but one blond and the other dark and long-haired like mortal women prefer. Tony is jealous, standing over their naked, entwined forms while they slumber. It looks comfortable. But how ever do they keep from sweating all over each other?

The snap of his fingers ends his invisibility and startles Zeus into wakefulness. The last time he saw his brother, the god looked nothing like this. Now he is the picture of mortal desirability: blond with cornflower blue eyes, a well-shaped face. Is it an illusion he wonders—but no, not possibly. They can’t maintain illusions while they sleep or lose focus.

“Must you break in every time you visit?” Zeus asks. He stands to dress himself, and Tony gives him the privacy by seating himself on a solid-gold armchair and unashamedly ogling the brunet still sleeping in his brother’s bed.

“Did I break in last time? I distinctly remember knocking—”

“You knocked the door off the hinges.”

Tony scoffs. Nearby is a golden platter of grapes. He knocks the grapes to the floor and tucks the platter into his suit jacket, all while Zeus’s back is turned.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? I like the facial hair, by the way. You always were a quirky one.”

He waves away his illusion. Zeus flinches as if instead of a middle-aged mortal there is now an ancient hag sitting in his bedroom. Tony hates this. Hates the blow to his ego and vanity. He attempts to conceal his embarrassment with sensationalism: “I am dying.”

They sit together, knees nearly touching. The room is quiet though all the windows are open letting in a breeze and endless sunlight that is beginning to give him a headache. Despite all they have been through together (and trust him, it is a very long and sordid history rife with jealousy and violence), they are brothers. This is familiar. It is comfortable.

“Why, Hades?”

“It’s Tony. I go by Tony.”

“You and your aliases. Tony is positively mortal.”

“You should try it. Shall I call you Steve?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. Quit avoiding my question.”

Tony sighs. He uses a trembling hand to rub at his eye beneath the glasses, trying to stave off the growing headache. There isn’t any clever quip he can give, so he just tells the truth. “I have no idea.”

“No idea,” Zeus mocks flatly. “The only way we can die is by choice.”

“I am aware.”

“You are killing yourself then. Slowly. Dramatically—though I’d never expect you to do anything expected. So tell me why you want to die.”

“To my knowledge…I don’t know. Whatever this is, it goes deep. I haven’t made any conscious decision. I have of course been bored. Doing anything for a millennium could take the joy out of it. It’s not necessarily a happy job, the one that I have. But I don’t—I don’t think I want to die. And yet,” he waves a hand at himself.

“We have healers here, well versed in magic too. Maybe you’ve been cursed. Spend some time here, we will get to the bottom of this.”

“I’d rather not spend a moment more in this sunlight than I have to,” Tony says honestly. “But it seemed responsible, to tell someone. To get my affairs in order. Someone else will have to rule the Underworld when I’m gone.” The thought gives him a strange relief.

And maybe that is why he’s dying.

When he goes to leave, Zeus catches his arm. Despite his own reputation as the drama queen of the family, Tony can testify that Zeus is a close second, proficient in tortured expressions. “Brother. Please stay.”

“No. But thank you for asking.”

“Then—take some time off. Something!” Zeus calls after him.

On his way out, he doesn’t bother turning himself invisible again, only replacing the illusion of youth—let the guards know that he slipped past them. It’s good for their egos to be taken down a notch. Just as he’s passing the stables, he nearly collides with a smaller figure. Looking up at him, nearly drowned out by the sunlight, is a lovely mortal-looking boy with a wreath of gold curls, skin golden and freckled. He’s dressed in typical Olympus fashion, a light and loose tunic secured by a belt around his trim waist.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry—” the boy says, turning red as a pomegranate. His voice is fragile and cracking. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”  

“A bad habit,” says Tony. He licks his lips. “Tell me you aren’t on your way to my brother’s bed. He’s already got a lovely little cock warmer up there, and I’d hate for your feelings to be hurt.”

The boy’s mouth opens and closes several times like a fish. “Your—brother?”

“Tall, blond god? Always looks to be on the verge of tears?”

“You’re—Hades.”

“Tony.”

“That’s a mortal name.”

“Nothing about me is mortal kid.”

“Oh—I didn’t mean to insult you,” he says. “I quite like it. To be—well, honest. I like the name Peter. It’s much less of a mouthful than Dionysus.”

Tony nearly removes his sunglasses. This sweet, soft little creature hardly looks like the god of nature—but to be fair, they have run in different circles for, well, ever. “My apologies, Peter. I mistook you for a mortal.”

Peter’s smile is beatific, bright as the sun. “That’s alright. It’s the curls, isn’t it? I can’t quite get rid of them. I’m not very practiced at illusions, really. I spend most of my time alone or with the animals, and they don’t quite care what I look like. To be honest, I’m just glad to be rid of the horns I had eight hundred years ago.”

“Horns are so twelfth-century.”

Peter laughs, and no wonder this boy is in charge of all the cute woodland creatures. Tony’s pretty sure that there are butterflies—at least, a particularly large species of moth, something with wings—fluttering around in his gut just as the sight of him. In the back of his mind, he still sees Zeus and his lover, pressed chest-to-back, sleeping peacefully. Peter looks like he’d be easy to hold: a head smaller, thin and willowy.

“Peter, not to be annoyingly cryptic, but I’m a little short on time to properly woo you. How would you like to slip through a nice cozy hole in the ground and come home with me to warm my bed?”

The young-looking god looks aghast. One finely-boned hand clutches at the neck of his tunic. “You mean—to the Underworld?”

“That’s the one. Great garish gates, lots of unworthy souls lying about. Not in my castle though, I keep a clean place for a bachelor—”

“I. Well. Yes. I’ve seen nearly all there is to see above ground. Are there plants, there? What is the geography like?”

They link arms. Peter’s skin is warm from the sunlight even through Tony’s suit. They could not look more unalike in dress, and the looks they receive from other patrons and deities as they leave Olympus are wary at best and malicious at worst. Tony isn’t fazed: most creatures hate him. Animals. Mortals. Gods. It’s a tough line of work.

And he feels so tired.

The kindness of Peter’s touch rejuvenates him though. They make small talk that Tony can barely concentrate on. He’s too busy contemplating the positions he might bend Peter into, the noises he might make, how Tony might spread him out over the massive bed in his estate and worship him. Pun intended.

They reach the hole Tony sprung from. Here is where Peter gets nervous, trepidation naked on his face. The boy bites his lip rosy, crossing his arms like he is cold in the sunshine.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Tony says. He winks. “Bit of a tight fit though. Might have to hold on to me.”

They wrap their arms around each other. Peter is nearly the perfect height for Tony to rest his chin on the boy’s crown on curls, and up this close he sees its absolutely threaded with flowers and clovers. The pollen makes him sneeze, but he hardly minds when there is an attractive body pressed against him from chin to chest to hip. He can’t even remember the last time he was touched—when Zeus grabbed his arm in passing, but before then? Ages. Lost in his thoughts, he hears Peter muffle his gasp against Tony’s suit as they sink underground.

It is much cooler here, where the sunlight doesn’t reach. All light is dim and flickering. From the earthen ceiling hang a myriad of roots reaching their tendrils down towards the sprawling domain of the damned. They are just outside of Tony’s castle—more of a mansion really, much more modern and stylish than those gaudy human monuments of stone. A river, water like ink, runs around the perimeter, silent.

Peter stands looking all around. He is very handsome when lit by flame, skin even more golden, eyes so dark they look black. The roots from above absolutely tickle him and he reaches a hand up absently as if he could grow tall enough to reach them. The flesh on his bare arms and legs prickles from the cool temperature, nipples pebbling under his thin tunic.

“Is this the Styx River?” Peter asks, mouth agape.

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“No. This is actually the Lethe—don’t touch the water.” His stern voice has Peter snatching his hand from the surface of the river, clutching it to his chest. Tony softens. “I’m sorry. But while you’re here, it’s safe to say that most things aren’t good for you to touch. Or drink. Or eat. When in doubt, just ask me.”

“As you wish,” Peter says. Even in the flickering light, Tony can see he is blushing, head hanging like a scolded child.

“Would you like to go inside?”

-

If Peter was awed outside, he seems even more floored by the interior. The ceilings are vaulted. There is artwork from every era in solid gold frames to decorate the walls, because Tony considers himself a patron of very nice things. The floor is of black marble that glistens in the candlelight. The general opulence is probably excessive, Tony thinks, especially to a god who lives simply in nature.

“This is incredible,” Peter breathes. “It’s nothing how I thought it would be. There are stories, you know. About how the Underworld is a terrible place and Zeus will banish you here if you misbehave.”

“To be fair,” Tony says, guiding Peter up the winding staircase. “You’ve only seen a fraction of the domain. It is probably just as terrible as all the stiffs up-top make it out to be. But—to be honest—”

The words catch in his throat. He’s never found himself wanting to be so honest before.

“Yes?” Peter prompts.

They are stopped outside Tony’s bedroom door. He decides he has nothing to lose by opening up to the other god, and if he doesn’t, it’s entirely liable that when he dies, no one will ever have known him. “To be honest, I try to avoid it. Tartarus, the Mourning Fields. Places where the souls suffer. It gives me no pleasure. I guess I’m a poor excuse for a god, here.”

“Not enjoying someone else’s suffering—that doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me,” Peter says. They are standing nearly chest to chest, Peter staring up at him with huge, naïve eyes. His thin lips curve into a soft smile. When Tony reaches up to tuck some curls behind his ears, the ears are just barely pointed at the tips. Peter shivers, like it tickles.

“You’re wrong,” Tony says lowly, turning the doorknob and throwing open the door. “But I appreciate you saying it anyway.”

Tony’s bedroom is befitting a dark prince. The bed instead is a huge four-poster, golden, with silks and a canopy so fine and sheer it looks like black spider silk. When Peter sits there in his tunic, flowers in his hair, he could not look more like a lamb being willingly led to slaughter. He looks fit for debauching.

Underneath is there is a sense of urgency for Tony. He thought he had all the time in the world, but now he knows he doesn’t. If things were different, he could take his time. Woo the nature god, win his affection and then his body. But now things are different. It calls for boldness. “Are you interested in sex with me, kid?”

Face red: “You keep calling me that. I’m thousands and thousands of years old, Tony.”

“You’re right—would you like to have sex with me, Peter?”

Peter’s blush deepens but he nods, already half-hard. Divine libidos.

Tony loosens his tie. His honey eyes track the dark god’s every movement. “Can I tell you how this is playing out in my head?”

Peter nods again.

Tony removes the tie and folds it gently over an armchair with four chimera feet sculpted out of onyx as the legs. “I want to take my time and take you apart. I want to taste you, suck on your hot little tongue, leave bruises on your neck. I’ll kiss and mouth every last inch of you except for your cock. Then I’ll put you on your elbows and knees and eat your little ass.”

Peter is panting silently, eyes half shut while he examines every inch of skin exposed as Tony unbuttons his shirt. The tunic does nothing to disguise how hard he is, and one soft hand reaches down to palm himself, to Tony’s immense pleasure. He undoes his cufflinks, tony gold seeds, sitting them aside. “I want to tongue you open until you’re wet and soft, until your cock aches so much it’s fit to burst. I’m going to worship you. Destroy you. I will be your god, all before I even get my cock inside you. How does this sound so far, Peter?”

“Goooood,” he breathes, tilting his head back. His eyes close but then open, wider, like he’s afraid to miss a single moment of what’s in front of him. So fucking adorable.

“Then I’ll open you up with my fingers, very carefully. Slowly. I won’t lie to you Peter, it will be very hard. For me. Having my fingers inside your tight little ass will probably have me wanting to blow my load as it is. It’s going to take incredible self-restraint, but don’t worry,” Tony says, unbuckling his belt. “I think I’m up for the challenge.”

Peter groans, dropping down to recline back on one elbow. His other hand is no longer jerking himself off through his tunic, is instead just clutching at himself, face twisted in the sweetest pain. “Please don’t stop,” he begs so sweetly.

“The same goes for you. Keep touching yourself, Pete. It’s turning me on.” Like it pains him, Peter whines as he resumes, much slower than before. The sound Tony’s belt makes as it comes free from the loops is almost sensual and then he sets it aside. “Once you’re ready—past ready—I’ll put my cock in you. Maybe I’ll let you decide how you take it, whether it will be on your hands and knees or maybe on your back, pressed in half, nowhere to run or hide from me. Maybe you’d like to ride me. Could you be brave, darling? Could you sit on my cock?”

Peter says something unintelligible. Tears slip from his eyes, glinting in the candlelight.

“What is it?” Tony asks, tender.

“Can—May I please cum?”

Tony coos. “You sweet boy, asking daddy for permission. Lift your tunic, rose. Let me watch you.”

Face burning, Peter lifts his tunic. Beneath is his cock, of decent girth and length, flushed and wet, the head nearly purple with desperation. One soft hand reaches down to cradle his balls, and the other resumes jerking himself off, moaning unreservedly at the first touch of skin-on-skin.

“Go on. Cum on yourself.”

Peter does, reclining flat on the bed, back arching into a lovely bow. His cock spurts endlessly, the god’s mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy, toes barely long enough to touch the floor and scrabbling to find purchase as he shakes and shivers.

It’s the most beautiful thing Tony can remember seeing, and he’s seen almost everything. By the way the boy is panting, Tony wishes he had some water to offer him; however, he knows that anything he eats or drinks will tether him here to this dark world. And if there’s any other thing he knows besides, it’s that Peter belongs above in the sunlight.

“I’ll never tell you no,” Tony admits, shedding the last of his clothes as the boy recovers, body jerking belatedly. “But I have to admit, I do enjoy the way you ask to cum so prettily. Can you ask me in confidence, darling? Could you ask your daddy, your god, to let you cum?”

“Anything,” Peter pants. His long fingers scramble to undo the belt at his waist and then he sheds his clothing in one fell swoop. Underneath he is all golden skin and tight muscles. His cock is half hard, cum glistening on his abs like the tears on his face.

“A terrible thing to promise,” Tony says, kneeling up into the bed. Hand flat on Peter’s chest, he ducks down to lick a flat line through the cum on his abs, groaning at the taste and the way Peter’s cock twitches. “Where did I say we would start, little rose?”

Peter doesn’t even blush, eyes half lidded with pleasure. He rises up onto his elbows, mouth open and ready.

The kiss is absolutely filthy, tongues entwining, the taste of cum between them. Tony licks into the softest, sweetest mouth he’s ever known, tangling his fingers in dark curls. He tugs a little and Peter’s head tips back with a soft whispered groan, the pliancy going straight to the dark god’s cock. It’s like all the strength is sapped from the boy who just holds his mouth open obediently while Tony explores it with his tongue, running it along the teeth, pulling back to suckle and nip at his lips.

Tony takes his time, as promised. He kisses and sucks at every inch of Peter’s golden body, tonguing the nipples into tight, pleasurable points and sucking at each abdominal that appears when the boy tenses. Lovingly, he cleans the stiff cock of its previous load of cum, perfunctory, before moving on. He sucks bruises onto the tanned thighs and kisses the delicate inside of his wrists.

“Roll over, darling,” Tony says. “Up on your knees and down on your elbows, for me. Spread your legs—a little more—yes just like that. Show me that pretty ass.”

Peter rolls at the first spoken word, movements languid. The expression on his face is blissful, and Tony might mistake it for sleepiness if the hard cock hanging between his thighs wasn’t dripping down onto the black sheets. His submission is so lovely and complete, Tony falls in love with him a little.

Then he spreads the god open and licks a broad stripe over his opening, letting the saliva pool in his mouth to lubricate his journey while he tongues at the tight little opening, coaxing it to submit as sweetly as its owner. The noises Peter makes go straight to Tony’s cock: whimpers and whines and breathy exhalations. Tony lets one thumb rub at the boy’s hole, barely slipping in while he ducks down further to mouth at the sensitive balls. He lets his thumb massage and catch on the rim, tugging gently, while he pulls back briefly. The puddle beneath the god is obscene. Peter’s cock looks downright painful.

“Why aren’t you touching yourself, little rose?” Tony asks. “Your little cock looks like it hurts.”

“I—May I?” Peter asks, turning his neck so that he could flash his dark eyes towards Tony’s.

“It’s your cock, Peter, you don’t need to ask me. Or is it mine now? Does your cock belong to daddy?”

Peter rocks back, fisting at the sheets. “Yes,” he groans. “Yours, daddy. May I touch it? Please?”

Tony shuts his eyes. He has never been lucky. In his first game of chance, he got the losing lot, receiving domain of the Underworld. But what luck he must have had today, to bump into this sweet doe. He can hardly believe it to be true. “Please, touch yourself. As fast or slow as you like.”

Peter chooses fast as Tony’s goes back to licking him open. His hips don’t know what to do—fuck into his fist or press back towards the hot tongue inside of him. Tony sinks a finger inside, and it slips in easily. The god under him keens high in his throat, deciding yes to arch his back more and give the dark one more access, content to just grind into his own palm.

The second finger doesn’t go in as easily, but it seems that Peter enjoys it more. Perhaps he likes the burn of being stretched open. One soft crook of those fingers has him nearly shrieking, asking for permission.

“Of course,” Tony says. He wants to shut his eyes, it all feels so good, so overwhelming—but he doesn’t want to miss an instant of the boy beneath him. He leans back to watch Peter’s mouth slacken in ecstasy, breaths stuttering as he grinds to completion against his own hand, hot cum slipping through his fingers. “Beautiful,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to the boy’s back. “Absolutely beautiful.”

This time, Peter draws his own hand to his mouth and licks the cum away, humming contentedly. Tony’s own cock aches, desperate for the slightest pressure, but he ignores it, softly fucking his fingers into Peter, drawing them apart to prepare him for a third. When he presses in, Peter sighs joyfully, looking absolutely fucked out, smiling at nothing and no one.

“How do you want me, Peter?” asks Tony. “I promised you that it would be your choice.”

“Let me ride you,” Peter mumbles. Tony’s cock jumps—just the answer he wanted to hear. He’s not sure however that Peter has the strength; he’s looking more asleep than he is awake.

“Are you sure? We can rest now.”

Peter perks up, a little alarmed. “What? No—please. Please, may I ride you?”

Tony groans, smiling. His heart feels soft, like a fruit left to rot. That gentle, cracking voice could ask anything from him, and he might be obliged to agree to it. As it is, he lays prostrate, watching with greedy eyes as Peter climbs above him. The god’s golden thighs are shaking already, but his expression is still blissful as he kneels up, reaching down for Tony’s cock. The first touch after such lengthy neglect has him hissing, pressing his head back into the pillow. Then he feels the unbearable warmth, the wet pressure as Peter lowers himself.

The nature god’s face looks wrecked, mouth open, eyes squinted shut. He presses down but then rises up, chest hitching with breaths before lowering himself again, taking just a little more at a time. By the time his ass touches Tony’s thighs, Tony feels liable to burst, and Peter is hard again.

Then he begins to move, thighs flexing. From his mouth come the most pitiable little sounds: breathy gasps, chants of yes, yes, yes daddy, thank you—please!

“So polite,” Tony says through gritted teeth, trying to prolong the moment. The sleeve around him is so tight it borders painful, but it is a line that Tony loves to skip along. Most arousing is Peter, the obvious pleasure he’s experiencing, the openness in his face and body. He is beyond censorship, beyond self-doubt, and it is the most beautiful and honest thing the dark god has ever seen.

It is exactly what drives him to the edge, and he barely has breath in his lungs to give Peter a warning before he is cumming, head pressed back into the pillow, groaning deep in his chest. Peter makes a wrecked noise, like Tony’s orgasm feels good as his own, pressing a palm on the other god’s chest to give himself more leverage while he rides the cock inside him.

“May I?” Peter pants, legs shaking.

“Yes,” Tony breathes, his eyes closed. This way, he focuses on the sensation: the warmth and wetness around his cock as it pulses with Peter’s orgasm, the hot splatter of cum on his abs, the way he feels warmer in this bed than he ever has before.

He never wants Peter to leave.

He wants to leave with Peter, and never return.

He does not want to die—

And then, Peter is gasping, a sound that can’t be mistaken for pleasure. The warm body on top of him moves away swiftly, and when his eyes crack open, he sees the horror on Peter’s face. Tony sits up, chest tight. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“You—you’re—” A golden hand comes up to stroke beside one of Tony’s eyes, fingertips brushing his temples. And oh.

Oh. His illusions must have fallen when he came.

The younger, more attractive persona is gone. Instead, his true form is left: hairs turning gray, face lined. It’s obvious why Peter is horrified. It can’t be pleasant to go to bed with someone and have them turn into—well, the same person, only twenty years older. Surely, Tony must be a terrifying sight. Or at least ugly.

“Tony, you’re older,” Peter says. His face is softer now without the fear.

“I’m—dying.”

“That—no. You can’t be. You’re—like my god.” The large brown eyes fill with tears that balance there only for a moment before tripping down his cheeks. The sight makes him feel like Charon has taken his ferryman’s pole to Tony’s chest, striking him as he is wont to do with leisurely souls. The tears are white hot when he brushes them away. “Tony, I don’t want you to die.”

He swallows, gathering the smaller god into his arms where he curls and weeps against Tony’s bare chest. Tony runs his fingers through the curls, flicking away a clover with far too many leaves that clings to him. There is a lump in his throat, like he might cry as well—only he knows it’s honesty.  “I don’t want me to die either. Except for when I’m here.. The Underworld is no place to spend eternity. I feel—like one of the damned.”

“Then come away with me,” Peter cries. “You don’t need to stay here. The whole earth is my domain, and I say that you are welcome there. Please, Tony. Come and stay with me.”

His hand pauses its ministrations while the cogs in his mind whir. What would they do…what would anyone do if he disappeared? The souls would continue to filter in—but Tony isn’t the one who decides the unworthy from the worthy, and he isn’t the one who determines punishment or delivers it. Without him there, the Underworld is likely to continue on just as it has since the beginning of time.

And maybe he can continue on, too. Elsewhere.

“You know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to those curls. “My brother did say I should take a sabbatical.”

[angelcorebabyowo]

Title: Honeydew

Warnings: Brief mention of suicidal thoughts

Summary: Lydia, Johann and edward get ready for a party and it's all OOC because yeah

"I don't even want to go!" Johann complains adjusting his poet's shirt and flopping down into the window bench with a huff as Lydia just as quickly starts to brush through his unkempt hair, he even closed his eyes whenever the strokes got gentler. He typically didn't go to parties unless he was performing and he, sadly, wasn't invited to do that this time. Honestly, the only reason he agreed to go was that it was considered rude to ignore an invitation from the mayor so he felt as if there wasn't really even a choice. Maybe he should just fake sick to get out of it, that wouldn't be all that bad, just a simple little head cold.

He sighs softly and leans back into his sister so that he wasn't jerked around as much, he was a bit tender-headed so it made it easier on both of them now that he wasn't wincing every three seconds. "It'll be perfectly fine babes, don't stress so much. You'll get gray hairs if you do it too much." Lydia warned with a small grin, her unnaturally sharp canine teeth looking unnatural amongst the normal ones. A few years ago she dragged everyone into sharping them but she continues to do it every time they run down even slightly. It would be weird if she didn't make it look so damn good " Although I bet you'd love that, huh?"

"Oh, you better believe it" Johann joked sticking just the tip of his tongue out of his mouth by habit. That wasn't a lie, he always fantasized about the thought of having grayish-silver hair at a young age and everyone in the family knew it and would make fun of him at every chance they could. He knew it wouldn't be a good look or actually enjoy it but it still made him laugh every time so he didn't really think that far ahead on the subject. His dad had gone completely grey by the time he was 30 and Edward, his brother, was starting to already so signs of it at the ripe age of 16 so it was possible that he could develop early on as well. "Could you imagine me being completely grey by my 20th birthday? You'd have to start calling me sir in a sign of respect!"

"You get no respect, none" Lydia laughs and stops brushing Johann's hair for a quick second before starting to do the very loose twist with her fingers. It was one of the easiest hairstyles she knew that could be done in half an hour or less. "Put it in a bun or just leave it down? Either way, it's getting twisted because I've already started."

"Maybe in a bun? " He mumbles leaning more onto the window and looking out at the city the setting sun was hitting just perfect to cast a somewhat orange and pink glow on the tops of certain buildings.  He assumed his apartment complex was one of them do to the height alone. He sometimes wanted to just sit on the ledge and watch the sunset that way, one false mood and he would plummet ten stories down before landing in the pool below. He wondered if he'd still be alive by that point. 

"A buns always a safe option." She whispers interrupting his thoughts and gently putting his hair in a bun before taking a step back to look at her handiwork "Its a little high but I think you should be good. That way it's nearly a safe bet, not one person would recognize you." 

"Do you think Avi would still recognize me though?" Johann questions as he looks into the vanity mirror and puts on a fix inspired mask. He forgot why he picked a fox, maybe do to their cunning abilities or something along those lines. He'd picked it out when he first got the invitation weeks ago so all memories seemed to just fade from him. 

"Avi would recognize you even if you didn't have a face or hair, now stop being a love-stuck puppy and both of you finish getting ready. " Edward interrupts walking into the room. How no one heard him walking down the hall with the obnoxiously loud heels was beyond everyone. He was also wearing his mask already. A cream scaled one with a few black scales mixed into it as it added ' Flavor '

'Snake' was the first thing that came to Johann's mind whenever he first saw it all those weeks ago, and even today his mind couldn't stop from going to that place no matter how many times Edward insisted it was a dragon inspired one. Johann still wondered what kind of snake it would even be, maybe just a simple corn snake. Edward wasn't that mean, after all, he wouldn't pick something venomous after all. 

"I am ready." Johann insists pointing to his outfit, the only thing he had to do was change into some dress pants and he'd be off to go.

"I was talking about both of you. More specifically Miss. "I'll do it later" over there," Edward says, he had a point after all. Lydia wasn't even remotely ready to go at that point. Her hair was pulled into an over-the-top and eye-drawing hairstyle and her nails were done to perfection, but other than that her clothes were just basic pajamas "go get dressed before we leave you at home." 

Lydia smirks before patting Edward on the cheek in a taunting manner. "Talking mad shit for someone who got his license suspended."

"Johann can! Right, you can still drive?" Edward questions flopping down onto Johann's bed with a loud sigh as the bed creaks under the new weight. He winced at the sound but overall didn't say anything about it. 

"I'm 15 years old and haven't even taken the exam yet" 

"Didn't ask how old or if it was legal just asked if you knew how."

"I refuse to let either one of you drive my car," Lydia says before walking out of the room to actually go get ready knowing that the other two would actually leave her behind. 

"Our car!" Edward calls before leaning over and closing the door fully and sighs loudly again before laying up against the headboard already messing up his golden capelet and neon blue shirt. He really couldn't stand not being the center of attention for a single second, he always dressed like that so it wasn't that far of a bet after all. "We have ten minutes before it starts but you know the saying-"

"Arriving fashionably late is better than arriving on time, shows how little you care."  Both of them say at the same time although while Edward sounds cheerful Johann just sounds even more tired then he always does as if he was trying to drag it out for as much as he possibly could. Johann sat at the vanity trying to figure out how he was going to cover up the bags under his eyes that, even with the mask, were extremely prominent. he eventually just settled on leaving them there as it seemed to add character to the entire look. (He was going for a renaissance era poet who just lost his husband due to some mysterious illness. He seemed to actually be hitting all of the points except for the crying but no way was he going to cry in front of people.)

They sat in silence now, it wasn't awkward, in fact, it was more comfortable than anything. Edward was doing something on his phone and Johann was trying not to have a panic attack because he was actually going through with this while struggling to fit pants that were a little too tight on. Alright, so maybe it wasn't all that comfortable but it was close enough to it. 

After about 20 minutes Lydia rushed in with a smile wearing bother her outfit and mask on. It was a multi-colored short yet puffy dress that fell off the shoulders and a mask that looked suspiciously like a peacock with the number of feathers that seemed to be hastily glued on. "All they had at the store was the plain ones so I had to glue the feathers and sequins on myself so now it looks as if a 3-year-old designed it!" she complained before going over to Edward and promptly laying down on top of him with an over the top sigh. "Woe is me."

"Well whose fault is that L? We offered you to come with us weeks ago but Noooo, you needed to wait till the last second like some sort of troublemaker," Edward says pushing her off and then promptly standing up and rubbing his eyes slightly and throws the keys he had been hiding in his pockets to Lydia with a pout. 

"Off we go come along little children!" Lydia says before walking out the door again, the sound of her boots echoing through the mostly empty hall. The only thing in them was a few paintings of fruit painted in over the top and crazy colors and a single statue at the end of the hall that they won at an auction a few years ago for like a thousand dollars,

It wasn't worth it.

"We're the same age!" Johann argues running after her trying to put on some of his slip-on shoes as he walked. It didn't fit the look but no way was he also going to wear heels, that was pushing it too far for him at best. 

"Stairs or Elevator?" Edward askes whenever all three make it out of their apartment building and into the main hallway "I'm taking the stair because no way am I getting Vored by an elevator"

"Stop being so mean to me!"Edward whines but gets in the elevator anyway with a pout and it started to go down, Lydia was babbling about how much fun tonight would be and her brothers both groaned in unison. 

"That's baby talk. Grown-men take getting eaten like a champ." Lydia says with a small laugh before hitting the button to take them to the main lobby "Johann baby, what are you taking?"

"I'm already in pain so I'll just take the elevator, fuck walking down 10 flights of stairs. "Johann says pushing his way into the elevator and gently holds on to the railing. "Ed gets in here, I refuse to sit next to you if you walk down down disgusting!"

If this was going to happen all night then what a fun one it would be. 

[universal-kitty]

ok this looks fun!! So, I'm a fairly quiet person, I never go out of my way to talk to others if I don't have to, and it tends to make me come off as cold/ intimidating. In reality I'm not, I’m just socially anxious. underneath the anxiety I'm just a soft goth™ that's also lowkey oblivious. Especially to romantic gestures. I love all things spooky, horror manga, slasher movies, etc. and I collect animal bones. Pls drag me uwu-villainbait

@villainbait

Additions: OH damn I forgot some things, I'm 19, 4'11, very bi and genderfluid. I'm also open to poly :)

   Slasher things, you say...? I can recommend two dragons to you....either-

   Silent boy, Jason. (Yes, named after the Jason.)

   Or the handler of cursed items, Faust.

   Jason came into town as a young child, abandoned as a hatchling. Nobody knows who his mother is...and over time, stopped caring. After all, aside from avoiding speech and being rather spaced out, he was a good boy! Very attentive and eager to learn, especially when it came to fighting....

   Something’s changed in Jason over the years. The clan and their outsiders don’t know what it is....but he’s been quieter. More careful...and where did he get that large blade...?

.:.

   Faust...nobody’s sure when she came around. One day it business as usual, the next, Faust had taken root in the swampy area near Kelpie and Celeborn, and that was that. Nothing could stop them from making her move out and Faust.....likely never had to worry about the kelpie-dragon couple, it seems. She’s never worried about them at any point in her time being active with the clan.

   Her role- despite being an outsider- is handling cursed items. The best bet is to hand them off to her; though curse removal isn’t hard for her, she prefers to keep them as they are. The oddities amuse her...and perhaps even cursed items fear her faceted, Plague-red eyes. And her ability to know- somehow- whenever something goes wrong....or right.

   Separately:

   Jason’s the one who’d approach you. Of course, he’s not exactly...very good at interacting with people, either. He likely would’ve been following you around town for weeks before mustering up the courage to interact, though you’d never guess it from the impassive look on his face. To that end, he’s not really bothered by your own impassive act; he doesn’t mind putting in work.

   Your interest in dark things would please him. Manga is something unknown to their clan, but he’d much delight in images of violence, terror, and gore. Sometimes, he laughs, and that’s likely the first clue you get that he’s not all there.

   That is, if you haven’t seen the giant cleaver at his side. It typically is hidden under his cloak, after all.

   Jason doesn’t consciously understand romantic gestures, but he does have a drive for romance that he acts on best he can. These will likely go over your head, much to his growing frustrations (his choice of speaking as little as possible biting him in the ass, here), but his awkwardness in some actions likely gives you a hint that maybe....he’s trying something? But it’s hard to work out what Jason’s up to when he’s so straight-faced... He might either relent and use words or try to express his affections in the way he only knows what’s left: gifts of vio- vulture culture. And totally not a downed being decorated to his liking to try and woo you.

   Faust is the one who unintentionally boasts the spooky aesthetic, what with her sparsely lighted home and the creepy things that inhabit it. She’s patient, so any anxieties you might have can be handled on your own....or with her by your side, if you prefer. You’re her little break, so she doesn’t mind pausing work to interact with you, no matter what your mind says about “being a bother”.

   Faust isn’t one for outfits, but the clan typically sends her things she won’t ever wear... So expect to have some lovely clothes that suit your goth vibes! She’ll even make the requests for you, if you’d want; get things that are cuter or maybe more witchy.

   She’s glad you enjoy violence and dark things as much as she does. Unlike Jason, Faust isn’t much one for the fight....but she does know a few spells to put people in binds or...unfortunate accidents. So if anyone makes you feel badly, dear, let her know, okay~? Faust will make sure you’re well taken care of.

   ....Expect her to be much like you, though. She’s not great with romance, either, and will likely just cuddle with you on her couch or hold the back of your hands while guiding them into just the right way to summon a familiar of your own. Little things that will stir your heart up until you make the final move yourself.

   Them as a poly couple under the cut!!! This is getting long, whoops.

   Jason and Faust are in just the right zones for each other to grow affectionate (in their own way) and for you to be pulled into them with ease. Jason’s inability to talk (mostly due to not wanting to) is balanced out in the smooth, quiet way Faust speaks. He is the physical violence to her manipulation of outside sources.

   You three can talk about horror together without mind to what someone else might think of the topic. Bones? Oh, Faust has quite the collection! If that’s what you like, Jason will make the effort to bring more home when he goes out, just for you two. He likes watching you two talk about it and likes that he can help.

   In dragon form, Faust is a bundle of tundra fur, especially in the winter! She’s perfect to cuddle against....and her facet eyes are somehow more daunting in this form, too. Intense. Though Jason is where you go to hide and be comforted by anxiety, what with his bigger frame. Skydancers are a lean race, but he’s at least bigger than Faust! (She rolls her eyes at such things.)

   In their human forms....

Faust has short, black hair in a fluffy bob. Has it been cut recently? Maybe, but it’s hard to tell... Her eyes are pure red with no pupil, but if you stare into them and let the light hit them in different ways, you can see why they call them “facet eyes.” She typically wears a witch’s hat with a star buckle, a large bird’s mask with black feathers, a matching birdskull necklace under a silver necklace, and a long, dark dress. A coat is- more often than not- overtop it all and her nails are red. In dragon form, her tail is wrapped in a tangle of thorns with a purple rose on either end. Sometimes, you swear you can see dark hands reaching off of her body.....

Jason wears only pants, his giant cleaver, and his favorite cloak, in comparison. However, his chest, arms, and his lower legs have a peek of bloody bandages... His blood or someone else’s? Who knows but Jason? His tail and wings have the same thorn tangles for decoration as Faust does, along with red nails. Under the hood, he’s got RBF (resting bitch face), purple eyes, and messy, dark hair. Something black, but not quite in color. He might still have a few autumn leaves in his hair, too... Messy man. Washes up occasionally, but not often enough. Force him to bathe more, and not just when he’s too messy to function.

   And now, dragon forms!!

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hiya! I'm not sure if I'm doing this write but here's a prompt I was going to write but got too lazy: Sirius going into Slytherin, either because he can't talk the sorting hat out of it or he owes it to Regulus or something and then James goes into Slytherin too because of Sirius. It can be as long or short as you want, really you don't have too. Thank you so much! I love Imagine James And Sirius

((Note: Black-typical child abuse references))

The younger Potters’ house, a small stone built cottage, comfortable for three, or five at most, sitting snugly in Aberdeenshire countryside not so far from the Potter Manse, is filled to bursting with guests, all there to celebrate Harry’s thirteenth birthday. Most of them are packed into the living room, perched on the arms of chairs and sitting in small heaps on the floor, and many are laughing at a story Fred and George Weasley have just finished telling about their misadventures with a ghoul. It’s a new story for Harry, and he laughs until he ribs hurt.

His dads are both smiling at him fondly, James from in front of the fireplace, a glass of firewhisky in his hand and looking strikingly like Fleamont with the flames throwing shadows over his dark brown skin, and Sirius from the floor at his feet, head thrown back to look up at him, his grey eyes full of mirth. Harry likes seeing them like this, happy and without restraint, but it doesn’t stop the groan leaving his mouth when Hermione sees the affectionate glances they share and decides to ask;

“How did you meet, Mr. Potter?”

Neither seem sure who she’s asking, but that has never stopped either of them. It’s a tale Harry has heard so many times before, and James always starts it the way he does now.

“Well, Hermione, you see, everyone always thinks we met on the Hogwarts Express, like yourself and Ron and Harry, or at the moments after our Sortings, but it was not some meeting of eyes across a train carriage or a crowed Great Hall, and knowing we’d found our forever best friends. We met before that. My parents liked to take me to parties they thought would be beneficial to me, so I would know some my classmates, and it was at Regulus’s-”

Here he pauses to wink at his brother in law, like Hermione might not recognise him, despite the uncanny similarity he has to Sirius. Regulus rolls his eyes, having heard this even more times than Harry, and goes back to drinking his wine.

“Seventh birthday party, I think, eighth maybe, that I met Sirius. And yes, I did know I’d marry him someday.”

“But Mr. Potter-”

“Call him James, Hermione, otherwise it gets confusing.”

“Yes Mr. Potter – I mean Sirius. But weren’t you only nine or ten?”

“Absolutely,” James says with a grin, and continues his story.

He did not know the quiet boy with the mischievous glint in his pretty grey eyes would one day be his husband, but looking back, James could say he wanted it, even then.

The night was cold and dark, the stars twinkling high in the sky like crystals thrown wide, stuck there eternally. James looked at them and pulled his heavy woollen cloak closer as he and his parents made their way up to the imposing door to number 12 Grimmauld Place. He had no idea why Euphemia and Fleamont were making him go, why they were even going themselves; he’d heard them complain on more than one occasion that the Blacks were awful blood purists and racists to boot. Yet they’d insisted there would be many children here tonight that would be in James’s year at school, children he should get to know sooner rather than later, and so here they were, despite James’s protests.

The front door swung open just as Fleamont’s knuckles made to knock, the woman behind it wearing a fake smile nearly as obvious as her deep red lipstick. By her side was a small boy, dark and sullen looking, half hiding behind his long black hair and half behind his mother. James smiled at him, his lumos smile Euphemia called it, bright enough to lift a whole room. The boy shot him a dirty look, full of sneering disgust, and James could only hope this was the birthday boy and not the brother he’d may or may not be sharing a dormitory with in the near future.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter. And this must be little James!” Mrs. Black welcomed them, her tone as false and bright as her smile. James’s parents smiled back, equally fake and James found himself wondering yet again why they’d come here.

Once inside, an old house elf, twisted and gnarled like an ancient tree, look their cloaks and immediately vanished with them, muttering something about foreign blood under his breath. Affronted, James looked to his parents, but they were still exchanging pleasantries with the Blacks and hadn’t noticed the rude little elf. As long as the older brother wasn’t as sullen as the younger – Regulus, he remembered suddenly – nor as subversive as the elf.

As his parents talked and talked, and Regulus hid further and further into his mother’s skirts, James took the time to look around the house. It wasn’t anything like the Manse, not with its enormous stair ways and wide halls, but looking up the staircase, James guessed it might be of a similar size overall, he couldn’t even see where the stairs ended, up and up, round and round. His eyes followed the banister, trying to find the end, and instead, near what James could only assume had to be the very top of the stairs, he found a face looking down at him, nearly identical to the ones in front of him, except for in place of derision, there was an emotion James knew far better; mischief.

The shark’s grin on his sharp, surprisingly pretty, face was unmistakable even from such distance as he lifted what looked like some kind of ball, heavy and wobbly like jelly over the banister. He caught sight of James, pointed towards the ball, and winked. He knew where this was going and flattened himself against the wall by the stairs, hitting his head on some knife edged plaque, displaying what he thought might be a house elf’s head. The boy on the stairs, who could only be Sirius, dropped the ball silently and hid down behind the banister as it fell, almost in slow motion, towards the dark green carpet.

Walburga Black let out a scream of rage like no other James had ever heard as the ball exploded upon impact with the ground, releasing a wave of foul smelling green slime that splattered Mrs. Black, the whole hallway, and many of her guests, drowning out the sound of his laughter. Any humour he might have felt, and he’d felt rather a lot of it, vanished with the sound, and the look of fury that twisted Walburga’s face, dark grey eyes immediately going to exactly where Sirius had been standing. Most of the guests were making horrified noises themselves, trying to wipe slime from their robes and hair and glasses; they all stopped at the sound of Mrs. Black screaming her elder son’s name.

“Walburga,” Mr. Black hissed, “Do not cause a scene.” He went back to making placating noises at his guests, saying how sorry he was, how much of accident it must have been, but all eyes were on Mrs. Black now as she positively flew up the stairs.

James had expected to dislike the Blacks, even to hate them, but he hadn’t expected the fear that gripped him as it did then the closer Walburga got to her elder son. He had never even spoken to the other boy, yet somehow he felt the need to protect him from his mother’s rage, a need he would find would never go away.

“Mum,” he said, almost a whisper, certainly desperate. Euphemia looked at him, covered from head to toe in dark green as she was, and there was irritation in her face, but also understanding. She shook her head.

The party ended not long after that, though Cygnus managed to clean everyone and everything with just a command to his house elf, supremely apologetic and offering everyone, including James a large glass of champagne to wash off the memory. The Potters might even have stayed had Walburga not come down the stairs moments later, looking completely unruffled bar the small stain of blood on her left sleeve.

James thought of Sirius often after that, though it was a long time before he saw him again. He thought of the mischievous grin, the pretty face, the almond shaped eyes now he couldn’t remember the colour of; were they brown, blue? Hazel, likes James? He couldn’t remember much, except that he wanted to see him again.

The McKinnon’s Christmas parties were legendary, or so Fleamont decided when he announced they would be attending the affair one afternoon in the early winter before James turned eleven. He’d been to plenty pureblood parties since the one for Regulus’s birthday and now, and yet he’d never once seen Sirius again, much to his disappointment. He’d heard his name plenty times though, in the whisperings of other children and parents. The party had left the Blacks veritable pariahs, what with the mess they’d made, and the overreaction of Walburga, but the wedding of Bellatrix Black and Rodolpus Lestrange had managed to lessen the effects somewhat, and James was finally getting his chance to see Sirius again. Euphemia and Fleamont both seemed a little perplexed by their son’s reaction to getting to see a boy he had never technically met, yet they said nothing.

The ballroom at the McKinnon’s town house was decorated all in gold and green, matching the dress Mrs. McKinnon wore when she led them into the room. There was so much to look at from the enormous tree with tiny green fairies fluttering about it to the small gaggle of children at the top end of the room, most familiar now from all the parties. Marlene was there looking pretty as ever in a glittery gold dress that matched her hair, but James’s eyes skittered over her and the other children there.

Grey. Sirius’s eyes were grey, James realised when his gaze landed on the other boy. He didn’t even realise he was walking towards him, grin on his face, until he was before the other boy, holding out his hand.

“I’m James Potter.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, amusement clear in his eyes, but took James hand anyway and shook it once. “Sirius Black.”

“I know. I saw you at your brother’s party.”

Sirius grinned at the mention of the party. “That was good wasn’t it. I remember your face.”

“Your dad gave me champagne,” James told him.

Sirius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly but his grin stayed in place. “He does that. Wanna see if we can make the tree fairies start screaming?”

The boy Sirius had been talking to balked at that, his mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish stuck in a too-small bowl. “I-I-Well I don’t think you should-”

“Maybe if we spin them?” James asked, and led the way over to the tree, glancing over his shoulder to check Sirius was following.

They did manage to get the fairies to scream, and to turn all the green baubles red, and to make the tinsel slither around the guests throats like snakes. After the look of rage on Walburga’s face when a tinsel snake wrapped a touch too tight around her neck, the two boys ran as fast as their gangly legs would carry them out the ballroom, down a spiral set of stairs and out into the garden, cold biting at James’s cheeks as soon as he set foot outside. For a moment they stood still and silent in the dark garden until a burst of laughter bubbled from Sirius’s lips.

His laugh was deep and throaty, and James decided then it was the best sound he would ever hear. He couldn’t help they way he joined in until they were both gasping for breath, gripping onto each other’s shoulders.

“Did you see mum’s face?” Sirius asked between bursts of laughter. “She’s gonna be so angry.”

“Not as angry as the fairies!”

“Or indeed the McKinnons.” The sound of his father’s voice didn’t stop James’s laughter, yet suddenly Sirius was standing straight, no humour in his face, only defiance.

“Who’re you?” Sirius snapped, glaring at Fleamont.

“That’s my dad,” James said when he’d collected himself enough.

“Indeed.” Fleamont’s eyes met Sirius’s for a moment, as if Sirius was sizing him up. Fleamont didn’t even look properly angry, just annoyed.

“James, we’re leaving.” He waved off James’s protests and ushered his son out the door, abandoning Sirius in the garden.

Just as they were getting ready to apparate home from the front of the house, Sirius appeared and grabbed James’s sleeve.

“Mum won’t let me go to any more parties now. You’ll be at Hogwarts with me though, I’ll see you there?”

The boy looked worried almost as he examined James’s face. Merlin’s beard, he really was so pretty.

“Of course, Sirius,” James said. “We’re friends.”

From that night, James and Sirius began to write to each other, and though they didn’t see each other again until they met on the Hogwarts Express, they quickly became close friends. They planned pranks and wrote of the Quidditch stars they’d be, of how they’d rule the world.

When it came to their Sorting, there was no doubting they’d be in the same house. Sirius would go first, being a Black, and James would follow him anywhere, same as Sirius would have.

The house shouted, “Slytherin,” nearly as soon as it touched Sirius’s head, and James had no fear when he sat on the stool.

“Want to be in Slytherin, ey?” the hat said in his ear. “All for that boy? Gryffindor would suit you better.”

“I want to be with Sirius.” James thought.

The hat laughed, all unsettling but shouted “Slytherin!” all the same.

Sirius grinned and hugged him tight when he slipped into the seat beside him.

“Told you we’d be together,” James told him. He’d known since they’d first met, of course.

James grins as finishes his story, stopping only briefly to press a kiss to Sirius’s lips. Harry rolls his eyes at their affecting.

“So you should’ve been in Gryffindor then, Mr. Potter?” Hermione asks. Harry has never thought about that before, about how his dad could’ve been in his house. Or maybe if he had been, Harry wouldn’t exist at all.

“Never,” his dad says. “I was meant to be where Sirius was.”

[karak9]

Another stupid long post about how I don't know my own fucking gender

This is honestly just copied and pasted from a yt comment I made on an older vid and I figured I'd share it here bc tumblr loves this shit I guess lol. God damn I've been questioning my gender for so long and ik rn im prob not still in the best position to be thinking about deep life shit like where I am mentally and im dealing with a lot in my life and also very insecure about potentially being trans bc a lot of my friends don't seem like they would be very accepting and my bf is only really into girls. I asked him how he would feel if I was nonbinary or looked like a boy and he just said he wasn't totally sure but he's only attracted to girls :c he's the sweetest bf in existence and im honestly so afraid of losing him, so aside from obviously not wanting to deal with all the other trans shit, I definitely hope im not trans bc I don't wanna lose him. Anyways, ill start with my childhood I guess. I was always super tomboyish. My older sisters (im the youngest sibling btw) were always p tomboyish so maybe I kinda got it from them but I kinda felt like I was more tomboyish than them? I felt like I was the most boyish girl I knew, like even meeting other tomboy girls in elementary school I felt like I couldn't really relate to them or like they couldnt relate to me enough idk. I also remember once making up a song about being like so tomboyish that I was basically a boy or something along those lines and sang it to my best friend at the time who I copied like all the fkin time (it honestly wasnt healthy lmao I didn't have good parents, also I think I started making up songs bc she did that and I wanted to like impress her), but she thought it was stupid and weird so I just forgot about it and moved on. I was embarrassed to even enjoy playing with dolls or play dress up games online and was determined to play masculine games like runescape (even tho I ended up doing girly shit in runescape anyways lmao) and considered myself one of the guys. In 5th grade when I started needing to wear a bra I absolutely didn't want to, tho some girls in my class thought it was weird I didn't wear a bra when they found out and that made me more insecure about it, but since then I've p much only worn sports bras. I have bought some more normal bras bc I wanted to look attractive in them for my SO or whatever but I still highly prefer my sports bras and can't stand wearing the other ones unless I have to bc my sports bras aren't clean lmfao. I always hated talking about genitalia and breasts n shit but that could just be bc of how I was raised and how my family was always so strict and such radical Christians and anything sex related was a sin, idk if its dysphoria or not. I've never rlly liked my chest and hated showing cleavage like so god damn much and still do but maybe that's the same thing or maybe I just want smaller boobs and that's it idk??? Like I'd want to appear to have a completely flat chest at least, idk if I'd want to actually like have a guy chest or not? Also huge issue with ppl seeing me naked or touching my boobs but again idk if that's gender related or just a normal issue I have. Tho I had a friend in high school (a girl, a very weird lewd girl) who would occasionally grope my chest randomly and it wasn't a huge issue but kinda made me uncomfortable and more aware of my chest. I really like when I wear big hoodies or when I lean over so my shirt kinda poofs out and it looks like I have a flat chest underneath. Though im not super uncomfortable with my boobs, like normally ill want nothing to do with them but I don't mind my SO touching them especially if they're really into it. I wouldn't say im rlly dysphoric about between my legs either, like yeah I think its weird and I hate monthlies and stuff but I think that's normal. I think if i woke up one day and had a dick I would be fine with it, I'd prob even enjoy it tbh lmao. I once had a dream that i was, well, a male dog like,,, ya know, with a female dog, and not to sound weird af (hey we were both dogs ok) but I think i kinda enjoyed it? I don't really remember any other dreams where I remember actually having a dick or feeling it but I've had several dreams as a male person, but p much all of them were like, I was seeing through a character's eyes or smth, not really that I was a guy, so idk if that's normal. I have the same dreams about being other girl characters, I'd say its split about 50/50. Because of this game community im in, a lot of ppl assume im a guy, and a lot of people still think im a guy and I haven't really bothered to correct them but idk if I find it more enjoyable bc its funny or if I enjoy not being referred to as female for once. I'll admit I feel most comfortable referred to as they/them, like without a doubt, if I could go by only 1 set of pronouns for the rest of my life it would be they/them. But ik that's not enough to call myself trans. I definitely wouldn't want to be 100% male. Like if I imagine myself as a grown man vs a grown woman id prob choose to be a woman. I don't like my voice but I think that's mostly just bc I sound 10 years younger than I actually am, and wouldn't really want a deep/masculine voice. Like a "tomboy" voice would be fine if that makes sense? I don't want facial hair or want to have a masculine body, I like that I have curves and soft skin and small hands. Personally I like my hair long bc its soft and people love it, but sometimes I kinda wish I had short hair and could pass as a boy. Like I'd wanna be a typical cute kpop boy ngl lmfao. I like the whole cute androgynous/feminine boy look and wish I could pull it off. Tho I also like really girly things sometimes and am okay being seen as a girl, i just want to be cute and attractive. Ik whether im trans or not I like being a mix of feminine and masculine, tho I admit in the past I've been kinda insecure bc I used to be super sure I was nb and thought me liking girly things and wanting to still havd long hair and wear girly clothes made me seem like "not trans enough" or whatever. But i guess here I am questioning myself again anyways. If I am nb, it sucks that ill never really be able to be openly myself and all but I've accepted by now that I kinda have to pick a binary and choose what I want to be seen as for the rest of my life, and im ok with being female. There are some things I dont like about my body whether they're really gender related or not but I can't afford to transition and wouldn't like most of the effects of T and am afraid of surgery and not sure I want top surgery enough to ever get it anyways, but I think if we lived in a perfect world and I could magically change my body at will and I wasnt afraid of judgment or being unattractive or whatever, I'd probably want to look androgynous and itd be cool to be able to change my genitalia at will lmao. If I had to choose 1 genitalia over the over I honestly have no idea what I'd choose but I have no desire to ever get bottom surgery, at the same time tho I honestly wanna someday get surgery or w/e to never be able to get pregnant. I just could not handle pregnancy or giving birth and I don't even like babies and breast feeding sounds awful so if I ever have kids they will be adopted 100% and most likely be older and like not newborn babies lmfao, babies are honestly so weird to me and they stink and cry and they're so fragile and im so afraid of like dropping them when I hold them lmao. But I like my nieces and nephews and I like being the cool aunt (is there a gender neutral version of aunt/uncle?) who lets them use my art supplies and helps them do fun stuff even if I get tired of them sometimes lol. Idk if that's gender related either but yeah I guess. This if kind of a more recent thing but I often say I'd make a great bf kinda as a joke bc of how I am in relationships like being the stereotypical sweet bf type who makes things for their partner a lot and wants to be their knight in shining armor and their protector and all that, but again prob not rlly trans related lmao just thought I'd throw that out there I guess. So when I was 17 was when I really started getting into trans stuff, prior to that I mostly just learned from my parents that trans ppl were "against god" and all that bs, and eventually started realizing lgbt+ isn't as bad as my family said and later realized I was bi. But anyways I met an agender person online when i was 17ish and I'd never heard it before and thought it was really interesting and asked them how you know you're agender bc after hearing their explanation of it i thought it described how I felt, but ofc they weren't transmed and just described it as being like a deep feeling or whatever and since then i started calling myself agender (and switched between a few labels but basically nonbinary) until my transmed friend told me I was ridiculous and that I wasn't trans, and honestly he was a huge dick but im a huge pushover lmao and I thought well he's trans so he must know what he's talking about, and though I felt discouraged about it I stopped calling myself nonbinary. Then I began questioning it again after not too long and basically since then I've been questioning my gender off and on. I'm now 22 and god I fucking hope im cis but also I feel like a part of me doesn't want to be cis if that makes sense?? Idk if that's because I don't like being a girl for some weird deep reason I don't know about despite being pretty sure I've gotten a lot of my feelings and their reasons behind them figured out, or if it's because I am trans and dont want to force myself to pretend im a girl 100% forever. At the very least, whatever the fuck my gender is, I want to continue going by they\them wherever I can and pretending to be a boy to strangers online and I'd love to cosplay male characters and bind and occasionally just dress masculine for the hell of it and probably wear sports bras for the rest of my life. I feel like in a way I cang possibly be trans because I can live with all of those things and be fairly comfortable still being seen as female for the rest of my life. But idk, I have bpd and other mental shit so sometimes im not great with my feelings (tho I do try really hard to identify all of my feelings/emotions and stuff) but at the same time bpd can cause weird identity shit so maybe its just a weird mix of a bunch of crap and im not actually trans but just weird and tomboyish enough to question my gender for 5 years and still be unsure. Also I know a lot of ppl suggest talking to a therapist/psychologist/whatever professional and trust me I would love to but I can't currently and am unsure when ill be able to bc they're expensive and I live in the middle of fucking nowhere so finding a decent therapist around where I live rn is going to be very difficult. Also, I have fucking crippling social anxiety lmao like I'd be so afraid to open up about this stuff even to a professional. So if anyone could suggest anything online that could help that would be amazing

[zombiiesque]

Nocturne Alchemy Osirian Purnima Perfumes Part One

Originally 3/22/2019

Hey, y'all! It's a gorgeous spring day here in Florida, and I happened to catch a preview from Nocturne Alchemy on their Facebook business page - new Osirian Purnimas are coming! Eeee. I love these - incense is my jam, and to be able to smell like incense? Well, I must be in heaven. There are currently a total of 16 in the line, and of these, I have 11. That's quite a lot, so I'm going to break this up into two parts.

All of the Osirian Purnimas (OPs, for short) have the same base, so from the website: "Each Osirian Purnima includes the original OP recipe in addition to the notes above for each individual perfume. The Osirian Purnima blend uses the most beautiful and exotic of ingredients, including the tuned recipe of Bastet’s Zamsara: An exotic Blue Incense blended into the dark sensuality of aged Kashmir in Mahogany wood and a drop of Santalum Black, Black Frankincense, Black Hessonite, Bastet's Amber and aged Eternal Ankh Vanilla Absolute. This was then blended into Purnima Incense: Blue Coriander, Italian Bergamot, Ambrette Musk, NA Incense Accord, Egyptian Cedar Chips, Palo Santo Chips and genus of three beautiful Frankincense Olibanum Resin: B. Carteri, B. Thurifera and B. Serrata. Solid Myrrh wood is then stirred in and taken out, leaving a trace element of sweet wood within the blend. Intoxicating blend of Labdanum Extract, Benzoin Syrup and Oakmoss stir in the incense ephemeral element to the blend. Five Sandalwood perfume oils swirl throughout the Osirian."

The labels are gorgeous. They're done by Trista Musco, an artist from New Orleans. If you click on my photo up top, you can have a closer look. Little, beautiful works of art, representing each God or Goddess. All the names are from the Egyptian pantheon.

A caveat: The components of this series are delicate due to the very nature of the oil compositions with their finite incense notes of absolute, essential and steam distilled nature. Travel really disturbs them. The impulse is to open them and at least sniff them, if not try them immediately, but they're going to be very off. Whenever I get a new OP, I won't even open it for a week. It's entirely up to you, of course, but I would hate for someone to get the wrong impression and miss out on something special. When they first came out, this was the one request Seth had for us, to please give it a few days, so as to have a proper first introduction. I have also found that giving these a full month aging really changes them. I was a little underwhelmed at first by OP Pakhet, my first choice of the series, and I didn't understand what I was missing. Everyone had rave reviews. So I stuck it away in a dark box, and went back to it about a month after I got it. The change was mind blowing - it was an incredible scent, far from underwhelming! /soapbox

Enough jabbering, let's get to it!

OP BASTET: The personification of Isis, daughter of RA and Goddess of Love. Bastet’s Amber is the underworld helm of this incense perfumed with soft wisps of amber smoke, NAVA ICONIC Rose Oudh brings a smoke and NAVA floral throughout this OP. This, of all the ones I have tried, surprised me. Rose can be a little funky on me, it's not very appealing, but there's a deep, lush, sweetness to this rose, and it's incredible balanced against the incense and smoky oudh. This smells like a dream on me. I think this is probably the first time I realized that I could indeed wear rose, if it is done like this! I had a chance to sniff Iconic once, and it is pretty divine. But it's not something I'll ever own, so I'm happy to have this option. It has a very gothic feel to it. One thing I want to contrast it to is Polychrome, which I recently wore my sample of - Polychrome is more dry feeling than OP Bastet. I think the sandalwood blend, which is gorgeous, is what gives me that impression. This feels more resinous, almost sticky, and with the rose that's a really neat juxtaposition.

OP HATHOR: Her name means the House of Horus. She is the Goddess of beauty, music, dance, motherhood and love. NAVA Leviathan Oudh ICON brings warm amber and soft billows of desert wood to this OP. Hathor is one of my favorites, I find myself reaching for Her often. Let's be honest here, there isn't one of these I've tried that I don't love, but for some reason, She's just so easy to wear, and is comforting. You could wear this with jeans and a hoodie, and pull it off. Of course, it also would go with a little black dress. Hah! There's an easy appeal, is probably what I'm trying to say. And it inspires confidence when you wear it. It's rich, golden resin, smoky wood, bright amber, against the base of OP incense. It's just so beautiful.

OP ISIS: Goddess of magic, healing, birth and rebirth. – With White Amber Resin and Sky Amber as the base of this perfume, the Goddess of magic brings notes of amber and incense with the notes of Eternal Egypt blending into this Goddess Incense. Isis is absolutely gorgeous. Bright, fresh amber. Complex incense at the base. The closest thing I've ever smelled to Leviathan, one of the original Icon series that I've lusted after for years. This makes me think of bright blue days, a little coolness in the air. Of course I would love this, considering how much I love the ambers of Eternal Egypt. This is such a happy scent to me, I cannot wear it and be in a bad mood. If you love NA's amber, this is an absolute must have, in my opinion.

OP PAKHET: Huntress and Goddess that took over in the Middle Kingdom when Bastet became the domesticated cat and Sekhmet became the Lion – NAVA Samar Oudh ICON purrs with resins, smoky wood and elementals of our entire SL Vanilla offerings throughout this perfume. This is the first OP I chose, I had such a hard time deciding what I had to get right away, so I went with an obvious winner. As mentioned above, I liked it, but after I aged it, it absolutely blew me away. Although this is billed as having all of the vanillas, I don't think it's vanilla heavy. I find it very well balanced between the woods, resins, incense and vanillas. It's sultry, yet somehow a snuggly scent.

OP TAWARET: Goddess of maternity, protection and fertility. Black Fig and Frankincense Tears are the bounty of OP Tawaret. There's almost a spiciness to fig notes at times. This fig is dark and delicious, not the green variety. I feel like that fits well with the incense, and the frankincense is just a perfect accompanying note. I was in love with this right away, I've always had a weakness for their figs. It was pretty amazing fresh, if you like fig, and it's only gotten deeper and more delightful with age. This one is pretty straightforward, of all of the OPs I've tried, but that's not to diminish the beauty of it, I think. All of the OPs have definitely have complexity! It's got a lush, sexy feel to it, somewhat akin to Fig Noir Ombre, but they're not dupes - they just have a similar vibe.

OP THOTH: Scribe of the Gods and the God of Wisdom - Ancient Kyphi and exotic Guaiacwood make up this God of knowledge. My second OP. I chose this to ride along with Pakhet, because I've always had a soft spot for Thoth. When I first got this, I have to tell you, it took a while to settle on the skin. Like, a good ten or fifteen minutes. I almost wanted to scrub it, it was so jangly. I didn't know what was going on. But once it settled, holy BATS it was exquisite. I think of all of the OPs, this one seems to fly furthest under the radar, but those who love it, really, really love it, and I'm no exception. I've had this for a few years now, and I'm happy to report that initial weirdness goes away with age. It's quite sexy, and a little dark. The kyphi is intoxicating - it's not your typical wine, this was made according to an ancient Egyptian recipe, I read. The guaiacwood provides a nice balance to the richness of the wine, and the OP base comes in further into wear, a while after drydown. It's a beautiful combination, rich, a little sweet, but tempered by the incense and wood.

I forgot something, and I feel like it's important to add this in. So, the OPs are all quite potent - especially aged. They last a wonderfully long time on me, and they are not in any way skin scents - a little does go a long way. I would start out with a light hand, and if you want more, you can always add to it! Also, I wanted to mention that I wear these year 'round. You might think, looking at the notes, that they're too heavy for spring or summer, and in my experience, they actually do great in the humidity down here in Florida. So give them a try, you might find yourself really enjoying them in warmer weather!

That's it for the first part. I've got five more coming up for part two, I'll try to have it done by the end of the weekend for y'all! Do you have any OPs yet? Which are your favorites, if so? I'm excited to see what the new ones will be, that's going to have me drooling.

Edit: If you want to jump right to part two, here is the link!