#the energies right now..i am also working on a portrait of him (again) i think its the winter feelings

[calaathmaza]

ID: an illustration of Maia from The Goblin Emperor. He is a half-elven half-goblin young man with gray skin, long pointed ears, and long, dark, curly hair. He has high cheekbones, gray eyes, and heart-shaped lips. He wears white robes with purple embroidery, gold drop jewelry, and his hair is done up in elaborate braids, strung with pearls, and pinned with tashin sticks. His back is to the viewer, and he sits at a writing desk with pen and paper in front of him, a cup of tea in one hand. He is turning to look back over his shoulder at the viewer and is smiling fondly. end ID

a quick little Maia from The Goblin Emperor, disturbed at his tea (but by someone he likes)

[bbokicidal]

"I Guess I Never Knew You." | OT8 [SKZ]

Genre : Angst [NO COMFORT]

Pairing : SKZ OT8 x GN!Reader

Summary : Based off of a request asking for reactions/how it would play out if the members were to cheat on you during your relationship. Each scenario is different - and these are rather short simply because I am trying to focus on Kinktober right now. Hopefully whoever requested this will be satisfied!

Warnings : CHEATING, lots of crying, angry responses from the boys, dismissal from the boys, reader gets angry in a few of them, yelling, etc. Very emotional.

These situations are all fictional and are not made to represent the boys. While I do write them as well as I can - based closely off of their personality and how I think they would realistically react - I honest to God do not think any of these men would be capable of cheating on their partner. Specifically Jeongin.

Bangchan - He cheats while you think he's busy with work

The excuses were so easy to make with you. 'Sorry, Angel. I'm staying late at the studio again because Jisung is sick.' 'I'm going in early to work on choreography with Min. See you.' 'Be back late, don't wait up.'

When eventually he just stopped giving you warnings, worry set in. His health was your top priority - but nothing of your own was his apparently. You'd walked into the studio with a small lunchbox full of snacks and water for him, assuming he was staying late again, only to see him with someone in his lap.

It's enough to make you tense, barely hearing his whispers and gently shushes of worry. He was sorry, he meant it, he swore, he didn't know you would find out --

It took every bone in your body to not hit him with that little metal lunchbox.

Lee Know - He cheats with an old friend from school

A girl you'd seen in his posts before. You'd found them kissing in a park while you were on your way to work, walking along the sidewalk only to stop and stare. A few girls had also paused to point and giggle, assuming the girl he was holding hands with was his girlfriend as he'd never done anything with you in public - no one knew that you were the one he should've been sucking face with.

Minho kisses the girl once more before they depart, pivoting on his heel only to fault. He stares at you from where he stands, your unmoving form timid and beginning to shake as the tears streaked down your face. He lifted a hand to reach out, watching as your body turned and - in the pouring rain - dropped your umbrella in your pursuit to get away.

He yelled, crying out for you to stop and let him explain. You didn't seem to listen, putting your feelings first and refusing to hear him out as he chased you down. He was fast - you were faster - darting across the road and narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle as you stumbled to the sidewalk before continuing to run to your apartment.

It really was a good thing you hadn't moved in with him when he'd asked you to.

Changbin - He cheats while away for a weekend

Seungmin had sat you down, told you everything. He'd shown you pictures he'd taken on his phone because he knew you were -- God, you were wonderful. And that wasn't his own feelings for you talking.

You'd been so good to Changbin. You made sure he ate three meals a day, made sure he had water, encouraged him to keep working on his music, his solos - choreography, etc. You'd done everything for him when he didn't have the energy to, visiting him during late nights and hugging him tight to tell him how wonderful he was and that he deserved the world.

Apparently, he grew a bit too cocky during their recent trip to Japan. Seungmin's pictures painted a portrait of your boyfriend with another woman in his lap, his face hidden by her hair as she sucked marks onto his skin that would disappear by the next morning.

You didn't confront him - didn't feed into it. You thanked Seungmin, left after patting his shoulder knowing it would likely be the last time you'd see him, and went home to move everything out of your shared apartment.

The next day, Changbin went on an indefinite hiatus.

Hyunjin - He cheats online

It started with the fucking instagram models.

Then he was messaging people, you find out. Contacting women he'd seen at fashion weeks or previous works with magazines. He'd asked them for photos, told them just how beautiful they were, and after looking through their profiles on your own, you'd felt like every ounce of self confidence you'd had was completely destroyed.

He'd only realized you'd found out when he came home from practice - no, 'practice.' - and found you sitting on the couch with tear stained cheeks and his phone in your hand. He hadn't even realized he'd left it behind, so eager to meet up with the other woman in his contacts.

You'd packed all of his stuff, told him to get out, and he'd immediately started crying. You'd never seen him so devastated, kneeling at your feet to beg you forgiveness until you slapped him and shoved him back by the shoulders. He sat on the floor, stunned at your boldness to yell in his face that he was a liar - a cheater - and that he never loved you.

He'd sniffled, moving to get up and grab the bags you'd packed for him so he could leave. He stands in shame as he waits by your door while you seethe on the couch, silent, calling his new hookup to come get him. He couldn't call any of the members - they couldn't know about this. Not yet. The shame was eating him way.

Han - He cheats while on tour

He's in the USA when he texts you that he needs to break up. It's enough to break your heart, have you sobbing on the phone as you ask him over voice memo why he needs to break up with you now of all times. He was two weeks from being home in your arms - why now??

He'd chalked it up to just feeling distant, feeling as though you were neglecting him and his needs a bit while he was away.

Jeongin later reveals to you over a phone call that Jisung had hooked up with multiple women while they were gone over the months. He sounds broken as he relays the information to you, apologizing as you sob into the phone and saying how you never deserved any of it.

You were more angry than anything that Jisung had broken up with you in an attempt to cover up his own wrong-doings while also saying it was your fault.

Oh, but the twitter post you made the following day was enough to be near career-ruining for Jisung. And it was damn well enough to have him crawling back to you, blowing up your phone and begging you to delete the post. But it was already far too late for him by then.

Felix - He doesn't cheat on you because he's the most perfect sunshine angel baby on earth (I'm running out of ideas)

Seungmin - He cheats on you with someone you know

Your best friend - Well, ex-best friend - was the woman Seungmin had his eyes on. Not you.

He'd dated you to get closer to her, using you as a pawn in his little game until he was close enough. He would curl up next to you in the mornings, whispering soft goodbyes as he left for work before returning home late after he'd spent the evening in her bed.

You'd found out through another close friend who she had let the information slip to. Sleeping with an idol - definitely something to brag about.

He'd knocked on your door for nearly half an hour before you answered, threatening to hit him with a frying pan if he didn't leave. He was filled with confusion until you hissed out that you knew what he was doing. His eyes widened, puppy-like and scared after realizing you'd found out about his little scheme.

"Everyone is right about you! You're a fucking snake, Seungmin. You use people, you're full of fucking lies and bullshit! Do us all a favor and never date anyone again, you piece of dogshit!"

I.N - He cheats on you with a trainee

It's hard to stomach when you see it. He was so young when he entered the idol scene - How was he even doing it? Hooking up with a nineteen year old-- A girl who had just appeared at the JYPE building a few months ago.

She was set to debut in a new girl group - a pretty thing, tall and slim with long hair and a cutesy style. The ideal young woman for a girl group. And apparently he'd enjoyed her, too.

He isn't aware of your presence until you're stomping up behind him and shoving him by the shoulders, stumbling away to turn to you. He stops, breathing hitched and arm still around the girl's waist as she stands stunned.

You'd bit at him, yelling how he was full of shit when he'd said he'd never understand why 'I Like It' was a good song, how he'd never be able to imagine hooking up with people with no romantic intentions.

"You want to be with her then, right? You want to date her? If you really don't believe in just hooking up for fun, that must be the explanation."

He stutters, stumbling over his words as his eyes avert. "W-- ... Well..."

Your chest raised as you took in a breath, wanting to slap the man for his actions. Instead, you'd turned to leave, bumping into a very oblivious Chan on your way out. He'd stopped, asking what was wrong, before turning to peer over at Jeongin and the girl standing there, shame filling the two of them.

"Oh, mate..."

Permanent Tagist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersupriseee @possum-playground

[fryingpan1234567]

superheroes and social media

do you KNOW how often I see a cute trend on ig or tiktok or anything and I’m just like “man that would be cute for (insert hero ship)”

but that’s an issue because like… putting your face on the internet is DANGEROUS🙅‍♂️

I had. an idea. to solve all the issues!

as fun as it is to imagine the RobinOfficial account having 4 million followers, I think it’s more fun for everyone to have accounts that only follow and allow following in the caped community

so basically Instagram for just superheroes

the ones whose identities are known can post their faces, and the ones who are still under the radar have a close friends list that consists of the people who do know them

a very few amount of people who aren’t heroes are allowed on this Super IG

including Lois Lane, whose entire presence is standard mom posts but with like. Superkids and other Kryptonians. you get it

uhh Bernard Dowd too but he only follows Tim and Steph

Alfred, who only posts the Manor and London with captions like poetry

Selina Kyle because she already had a regular account but B was like “oh that’s dangerous now that we’re affiliated”

she was like “well how am I supposed to fuel my ego with no instagram for people to thirst after me”

B sighed and was like “well,,,,,”

Harley Quinn fluctuates between being banned and interacting with EVERYONE’S content with offensive amounts of emojis

anyways tell me WHY Conner Kent has the most iconic page on the internet

it’s full of these aesthetic photo dumps and crackhead videos of YJ doing dumb shit

also Tim. he’s got chaotic gen z billionaire vibes and most of his stuff is on his close friends list because B doesn’t need to see the REALLY dumb shit he gets up to

yeah they’re both hot and yeah they’re both elite pages. but Kon’s is Sabrina Carpenter energy and Tim’s is P!ATD energy so they’re different flavors of slay

on the opposite end of the spectrum we’ve got B, who has four posts, all exactly 365 days apart

it’s the yearly Father’s Day family portrait

Dick Grayson does that millennial vlog thing but Not

“a day in the life of a 24 year old cop (who also happens to be a vigilante)”

also a compilation of clips of him jumping off buildings, some taken by him and some by other people

can you IMAGINE this dumbass with a gopro

Red Bull wants to sponsor him what can I say

he lets his favorite villains follow him

WHEN I TELL YOU BILLY BATSON HAS THE MOST FAMOUS PAGE OF ANYONE IN THE COMMUNITY

because he was a public figure ANYWAYS. this is the idiot who used to walk around charging people’s phones with his powers and taking selfies for cash. people know him

so Captain Marvel has this crazy account with him doing memes and slo mo compilations of him punching guys from his body cam

his most hit post is a video where he found a cop harassing a bunch of kids on the street (who he happened to KNOW) and without saying anything at first just kindaaaaa walked over and fried the cruiser’s entire inner workings

“yo, copper! I think somethin’s up with your system, man!”

while the cop was trying to figure out how to start his fucking car again, Billy herded the kids down the sidewalk and they all took off running, giggling like maniacs

Damian Wayne doesn’t post a lot, but when he does, it’s to match with Jon

I mean like taking pictures of each other from across the same table and the captions are each half of a whole song lyric, stuff like that

his personal favorite is actually their softlaunch— they found an entire wall of mirrors at the planetarium on a date, Jon had his right hand on Dami’s waist and the other in his pocket, and Dami was standing in front of him, holding the phone with his right and tilting Jon’s face down with his left to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. neither of their faces are in it and it was Damian’s wallpaper for a WHILE

my babies ANYWAYS

Diana Prince posts exclusively about her favorite ice cream shops

Bart is the kid whose note is always like “in the hospital👍” / “sick again” / “hate broken ribs I can’t eat seven burgers in this condition” / “got possessed by a death god again :/ third time this week” and it’s like jesus man can you catch a break

can you imagine finding fucking Superman has a verified instagram account but it’s private so you can’t even follow freaking SUPERMAN

Duke Thomas is thoroughly over his siblings’ shit and there’s a ton of videos of them being dumbasses with captions like “someone save me it’s two in the morning”

anyways A COMPILATION OF TRENDS

“nobody move, there’s blood on the floor” for LITERALLY any ship it’s so funny

“what? you’re not coming to my tea party? Bethany, I made BISCUITS” with increasingly low res crack pics of Red Hood falling off of things, generously edited and posted by Tim Drake

dance trends with Steph and Cass

“guess which outfit is whose” with Tim and Steph but they’re both in their Robin uniforms

Tim making a cringey thirst trap edit of Jason who in response posted a clip of Tim tripping his own gear and setting off an alarm

“wearing the same outfit so no one can tell us apart” and it’s all the Batkids in their Robin uniforms (most of which barely fit) ((Bruce and Alfred cried))

the Superkids did the same thing a few days later and dragged Clark into it

not-quite-thirst-traps where they just kinda stand there over music but everyone in normal comments would’ve gone crazy

calisthenics trends. Thanks

it’s like a THING between all the Titans where they’ll sneak up behind each other, yell “THIS IS SPARTA,” and kick each other off roofs

someone sneaking up behind Jason while he’s belting Seasons of Love

MOTORCYCLE CONTENT

somewhere out in the world there’s a shaky, blurry video of Robin, Superboy, Spoiler, Blue Beetle, and Beast Boy dancing to and half-singing-half-yelling Tell Your Girlfriend

if you think of any more social media trends or videos or pics you see that remind you of a hero tag me because I’m obsessed with the idea of these idiots on socials

[invisibleicewands]

Hello! Here's a fan of your reviews again (they are really great)

Would you mind giving your opinion on Nye, please? I def need your insight on it!

Hi, Anon!

Thank you for your trust, I'm feeling a responsibility on my shoulders now... I'll try to do my best to deserve it, since you appreciate them.

It's not easy for me to write a 'review' about Nye tbh, because there's a lot to unpack and I am terribly slow in finding the right words for this kind of posts (proof is I'm replying only now).

Anyway.

First, I must tell you that my impression may be influenced by the lack of experience and culture in theatre and plays in general. Nevertheless, I think I'm not wrong if I dare to say that "Nye" may be considered a masterpiece. For the theme, the meanings, the perfect execution of all the cast, the writing, the visual impact of the lighting designs, the choreography, the tricks and the original technical solutions with the props on the stage, as well as the rollercoaster of emotions during the entire show. It's all amazing, all perfectly synchronized like the gears of a clock, a real wonder for the view.

The storytelling is neat and well built, the direction is fluid, meaningful flashbacks of the past alternated with the present ones, touching moments balanced with songs and dances, lighter jokes and deep thoughts. There's rhythm, there's a bit of drama and a bit of musical, sadness and happiness, cruelty and compassion; there's speed of execution but also time to breath, to reflect, not a single wasted moment. A perfect team job, a well oiled machine that runs full power for about 2 hours 30.

The actors are really all exceptional, professional, tireless, talented and admirable in their roles. I loved the precision of every movement, the perfect timing of their steps, the expressions, the attention on every little gesture, the care for the detail.

A mention for the performances of some of the supporter actors, excellent, well trained and at their best, who know how to stay on a stage and fully entertain the audience.

Sharon Small (Jennie), with her grit, her grace, her versatility, her patience (when she stays still in the background for minutes, wow), is perfect in portraying this special modern woman: strong, intelligent, nonconformist, but also romantic and soft.

Roger Evans (Archie), Nye's best friend, eternally loyal and protective, sometimes even jealous of Jennie: always on point, a reliable presence in every scene.

Tony Jayawardena (Churchill), with his impressive figure, as Nye's opponent and his doctor, crafty but funny at the same time, and... a very flexible dancer.

And then, obviously, him.

Last but not least: Michael Sheen.

Monumental. Powerful, in his presence on the stage. Inspired, with his long speeches. Ecstatic, during his vivid crazy dreams. Mesmerising. A natural born orator in a play which is his perfect environment. A driving force. He's not just playing a character. He's living an ambition, a mission, that represents the core of all the values, the qualities, the feelings and the things he loves more and ​​in which he recognizes himself. He put his body and soul in this portrait, he cried and laughed, relentless, passionately, he bore the weight of an incredibly high emotional stress for months (all those rehearsals, every day, two times a day sometimes), showing an energy and an unimaginable stamina.

You can understand why he deeply felt this project: he fully believes in its message, and I sense there's also a lot of personal in it, emotions, situations that somehow belong to him. Nye, generous, crazy dreamers, fragile, stubborn, silly, irritating, strong, moving: he perfectly painted all these nuances, because they are also part of himself.

I could also add that some scenes reminded me others he already played in previous works (MoS, H.G. Wells, Dirty Filthy Love, The Passion), but maybe I'll keep these parallels for another post, since this is already too long. It's like there's almost a pattern in the choice of his characters, a little hint that he has a soft spot for some topics, definitely very important for him.

The same for other scenes that really impressed/touched me, but that would take too time to be discussed here.

It was an incredible show to put together, made with hard work, imagination, heart and dedication. To share a story and a message true for many people and different generations, in every eras. For those countries that have a NHS and for the ones that have not. To show how difficult but essential is to fight for the rights, against the social injustice but not only, to care about our families and the others. And affirming that making politics doesn't mean just balancing the books, but giving dignity to the people. This is how the politics becomes a real noble thing.

A huge effort, a great play, a deserved success. A necessary reminder.

(And now, after using too many adjectives, like Nye it's time to expand my vocabulary and find more synonyms.)

[ineffably-human]

Canon! Queer!! Slow-burn!!!

Okay, but I think we can call it text now, right? Said-out-loud, have-this-on-your-radar text? 'These people are canon queer and have strong feelings for each other, and this is the most important aspect of both their plots' text?!

Nandor suspects Guillermo would be jealous of him getting married .

Guillermo confirms that he knows everyone, including the documentary crew, is thinking that. But because things are going well for him in that department as well he's over it, he's totally moved on from his canon textual feelings he acknowledges having.

Guillermo's entire face and voice journey lingering on Nandor having male wives that seems part "you were openly queer even when you were alive?" and part "nice to know THAT was never the problem." (He assumes it's a woman when first asked to be the best man, too, I think he genuinely didn't know Nandor would have considered a man as relationship material.)

Nandor getting a casual offer to join Laszlo and Nadja in sex, specifically to fuck Laszlo. Nandor being actively hornier with the male-presenting people during the whole wife montage. Leering at the guy he's wrestling with. Planning coffin sex with the other dude. Slapping the third guy's ass. 'Nandor's true love could be a man' we are loudly told over and over and OVER again.

"I'm cool with you getting married, I really am." "Oh good, I'm so glad you are cool with it." Nailed it, both of you.

The sheer married couple energy they have in basically everything.

"I already found love," hard cut to Guillermo's face before it goes to the portrait.

Like we are not getting a story of a man trying to find a relationship. He finds the relationship right away by ruling everyone else out, and then shows no interest in who it actually is.

The story is of a man who is deeply lonely but afraid to be challenged or vulnerable, even when both of those things are happening with the most important person in his life - who he loves anyway. Right as that person is getting more honest, and more in touch with himself as a sexual being, and might also be pulling away forever.

Some additional eyesemoji.jpg:

They sure as fuck aren't desexualizing Guillermo in this process. The robe, the stubble, denying he's a eunuch, the Guide having vivid horny fantasies. (As Laszlo, who needs some sensitivity training, talks about seducing a vampire? a vampire woman? being 'every young man's dream'. Guillermo's never said he's queer out loud, and it shows.)

Man, we sure did establish what a HUGE taboo it is for a vampire to fuck a vampire slayer. With lifelong punishments and/or memory-wiping consequences. (I wonder if the Guide fucked someone we're gonna meet later...)

Guillermo imprinting on Colin as a fellow latchkey kid, and wanting desperately to protect him. We already have such a strong sense of what his deal is with his family.

"I would have to know when your mother's birthday is and the things that you do." How Nandor looks guilty at that, but also how much it says about Guillermo being guarded. Nandor never asks, but does Guillermo ever try and tell? Did he try once, back when Nandor didn't care?

Guillermo is so barefaced honest about the things he needs and feels, in that basement scene with Nandor and baby Colin. Nandor not only hears him out, Guillermo tells him because this time Nandor did ask.

And when Guillermo says these things out loud? Colin falls asleep. I wonder if energy vampires only work in boredom or sadness. Maybe they can even respond to positive kinds of communication...

[mercyisms]

Niche Nona liveblogging: Day Three - Five

And we continue my copious and niche note-taking and very predictable reactions. Previous and future installations can be found here. Spoilers for up to page 282 in the hardcover or up until Day Five. Also very, deeply cool to reblog or reply or come yell in my askbox. Whatever you please.

Puppy love “just made you want to open the puppy’s lips and play with the puppy’s teeth.” God. Some of these observations are simply too good.   Pouring several out at “You’d never act like you were married to me” and “Landmine people” (at first sight!?) and “I mean, also redheads. Love a redhead.” Pyrrha Dve I am still free on Monday, on Tuesday, on Wednesday and my hair is very technically red. I’ll work on the Molotov cocktail personality. We have clocked Nona’s skin being described as an egg carton (brown ones, I assume? Not grey) and Corona having “skin like amber.” We are very much paying attention to these descriptions. “Crown Him with Many Crowns Thy Full Galant Legions He Found It in Him to Forgive” – I don’t have Wake’s full name handy right now, but we are noting the gender happening in “Crown Him” but also that hymn is pared with what I am seeing is an excerpt from the Côte d'Ivoire national anthem (Thy Full Galant Legions) plus a song by Dominion Road called Mutiny Within. Mutiny Within, well! That seems very apt for Coronabeth. But with the play off of Dominion Road, we have three name-parts that all evoke sovereignty. Fitting + perhaps this will idk be mobilized in some way in the text. (Also compare “He Found it in Him to Forgive” with John’s professed “There can be no forgiveness.” Possibly a useful ideological difference to map?) Noting the portrait of Wake (Pyrrrhaaaa) but also the plastic flowers, which is very logical but a bit different from Blood of Eden’s previous associations with more organic substances. Then again, war zone commanders can’t, we suspect, be choosers. (Though, of course, they were never entirely organic! Just thinking, thinking.) “Let us move on from playing games with how clever and how old you are. I am not impressed, and they annoy my colleague.” + “Yes. Good. The intel, I mean, not anybody’s romantic history, which I abhor.” I do not abhor We Suffer and We Suffer. In fact, I love her, and also while she would loathe it, there is a little slight waft of Mercymorn energy. I’ll say, I will. An itch, you see, of “mean lady” is being scratched. “When Nona was angry her cheeks went red and her voice got squeaky.” Terrifying implications for whoever’s body she’s in. Also Nona’s relative smallness to Coronabeth/Crown --> that’s a point in Harrow box, to be sure. “There were bones inlaid in the sides like fossils in a dried out riverbed…” Aesthetics of environmental collapse + frankly, the ship just sounds sexy (152). Great design. “Assume the worst, ignore the best… Do not catastrophe.” Wake content, we love to see it. Oh, also, of course the No Hopers comment is fascinating, though the extent of my knowledge on the historic/Christian adjacent “No Hopers” is Emily Dickinson. So. I’m noting it, but I’m likely not someone to take it up. Source Joyeuse and Source Piotra AND Source Aegis AND Source Chrysaor !! God I love all of these BACKSTABBING DEMI-GODS. Joyeuse and Aegis seem very straightforward as far as code names. I am totally unsure what to do with Augustine as Source Piotra?? Why? Is it to do with St. Peter and can someone explain that to me? Not sure why Cytherea’s been given the name of a dude who sprouted from Medusa’s fallen head / Pegasus’s… sibling? Y? But I love any mention of that beautiful, beloved, evil girl and it is very dramatic. I’m sure she’d like that. (How much say did the Lyctors have in their code names and did Mercymorn insist on absolute near-literality? If so, Mercymorn, your self-preservation game is so weak. I love you.) “Lyctors take the very flooring from beneath our feet. We cannot see them coming. We can never stop them. When they arrive the clock starts, and another home is taken away from us… our children stateless, our grandchildren perpetual nomads.” Love an insight into Lyctors-in-combat. Fascinating. Devastating. The worst part of me was dying to see some of those old fuckers fight, I must admit (156). “The Eighth was killed by something we don’t understand.” WHEN are we going to talk about the stoma and the teeth and WHATEVER happen to Colum?? What ate him??? My true, teethy love. It's necessary to talk about Chapter 13 all together, so the fact that Nona and only Nona hears the Captain (sensitive, immensely, to Varun/RB7?) say: “Dust of my dust…what shape they made you fill—we see you still—we seek you still…you misused green thing—come back to us—take vengeance for us” – I mean, this has to be RB sweet talk from one Resurrection Beast to another and I am deeply interested in listening to the planets talk and not in an astrology way. But also we are bookmarking “the Captain didn’t say anything when you came into the room. She only screamed.” & Nona’s capacity to understand the scream as language, and potentially screams as planetary (post-trauma? post-destruction?) language. IF all is as I assume, that’s a fascinating thread to pull on later. “Camilla was gone and then we met Harrowhark, and she came back” devastating, btw. “Love that melodrama. Is there Eighth somewhere in your family tree?” Please. Please. Show me the Eighth. Show me what Mercymorn and a nun (????) wrought and also, I am certain, abandoned. Show me this million-fold cult. “That meant Nona was only being ordinarily selfish, not dangerously selfish.” I love you, Nona. “You’re scared of Pyrrha, and you do think she’s nice-looking, but you’re confused when you think that so you don’t look at her very much. You want Camilla to cuddle you but not in a—a sexy way. I think you want Camilla to look at you like you look at me. And you’re in love with th—” [e Captain, surely.] Yum. Desperate to know, though, Coronabeth’s intel on The Saint of Duty & Gideon/Pyrrha’s inter-empire reputation per “I’ve heard too much of the Saint of Duty to trust Pyrrha Dve.” “That’s why I should ask you what I look like, and ask my sister what I’m feeling… You’ll always tell me I look beautiful and she’ll always tell me what I want her to think.” Equally invested in the Tridentarii situation but especially the implication that Corona believes she can deceive Ianthe (175). “He never liked losing control… he could not be coaxed to sleep unless she stood in the doorway, or in the worst times stroking her thumb between his eyebrows, down the bridge of his nose.” A very ‘I am paying deep attention to the John/Alecto (??)’ vibes to you too (188). “M-- had brought her best friend, the nun” The stadium getting to their feet, chanting Cristabel! Cristabel! Cristabel! And I am the stadium, entire. Also of course the very neat “And then A—brought in his little brother who was a hedge fund manager. A—Junior was useless but he was a darling, I couldn’t fault A—for adding him into the mix.” Because of course Cristabel and Alfred are introduced together, as A—and M—were. We have completed a set that is very dear and darling to me. (Mildly losing it over Cristabel and Alfred being less named and rendered, instead, in the possessive in relation to A—and M—. I’m crawling the walls over it a little, actually.) Although, I will say, they are the detail throwing me most for a loop right now. I have to recalculate all of my assumptions about Cristabel and Alfred. Cristabel? Wildly competent and brisk and a nun?? Applying to and arguing with the Vatican? Insisting John keep office hours and learn practical lessons from Christ? I am listening. I am fascinated. I’m tearfully rolling up my weeaboo Cristabel headcanons and getting ready to replace them with new and equally dazzling colours. (Okay, but what if she has Neon Genesis Evangelion energy?? Did Madoka not die for our sins??? Here’s how weeaboo Cristabel can still win, etc.) Likewise, Alfred being Augustine’s younger brother and not older or a twin is the last thing I expected. Even more so than hedge fund manager. (God, what a family. I am imagining it now.) I really thought Augustine specifying he was a few inches taller than Alfred but clearly wearing heels was a secret little hint that they might be twins but Augustine had a warped and inflated ego. This, this is good too. “A—and M—were making black jokes about taking volunteers from the crowd for the skeleton army,” They future-hate each other. They can’t stop working together. They have the same sense of humour. They ruined my life. “I can’t believe nobody’s ever going to laugh at my jokes again… It’s all gone, I’m the only one left. It’s just me and you and no more jokes.” (193) Genuine pathos here, for me. This is truly John characterized at his most #millenial, this chapter. But ALSO cf. some of the early things I’ve pulled out around Nona and Nona/Alecto’s atonement to loneliness vs. the profound loneliness and isolation of John. And now: terrible occupation politics. Good. “Prince Ianthe Naberius the First, the Lyctor Prince, the Saint of Awe” + “Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia, heir to the First House, the Emperor’s only daughter” + “Tower Princes” – we note, of course, the Gender and this move to, with the end of the emperor’s lyctors, tower princes. Ianthe and Gideon being prices is very interesting to me. We also note that Cytherea’s naming convention (disliked by Augustine and Mercymorn, all too apt for G1deon) has been adopted by Ianthe, which is… fascinating. Also, John renaming Gideon with an Indigenous name and the pivot back? to Indigeneity in the empire – fascinating, rich stuff. Also I was today years old when I realized Gaius was maybe not a play on like “just some guy” or any of the characters from Tacitus et al. but potentially the masculine of Gaia as in Earth. God!!! “Pretending you can bandage bipeds” I cannot remember where I learned the fact that a vet is more ideal in an apocalypse situation than a doctor, but it’s in my brain and you can have it now too. (You want someone with more diverse than specialized knowledge, is the thought process.) (Again, I cannot remember where I learned this, so who knows if it’s valuable. I would also very much take a doctor in a doomsday situation, personally.) Which reminds me: this book is really making me wish I had a more useful degree to ingratiate myself to our future undead leader. And also it is, again, patently unfair that John is a science guy and that well-read. It’s not the unkillable thing that’s OP to me. It’s that he can quote Poe and do math. Smh. “Chance to be her, huh? A little independent living for once?” “It is my enormous privilege to be they.” I am very EYES EMOJI at whatever is happening with Angel but also with their gender more broadly. (215) I feel like I have not commented on how much I love all of Nona’s school friends, but I really do & think they are deployed ingeniously, I do. Perhaps we can discuss it later, but I fear I have more Old People adjacent things to transcribe. Sorry to teenagers everywhere. “[John] was scared of that—he was always scared of the water” (219). We are both fascinated by the scope of John’s powers but also comparing this to Nona’s (Alecto’s??) love of salt water… (CAN John swim? Asking for a friend.) “’Don’t follow me, I’m mad.’ … She wondered again why anything that hurt them only hurt briefly, but that anger took such a long time to go away.” (220) I’m. “When M—had been all, I will not accept those numbers, I will not accept a plan that incorporates reproductive injustice…” We stan a girlboss and a feminist. Also “I couldn’t follow, but A—could” – god, love an awful man who, again, can do mental quadratics. “M—freaked out…. And A—agreed with her, which was how you knew it was really, really bad.” 😊 Also if you knew how prominently generational ships had featured in my life this past year… And, like, that one forgotten Canadian generational ship show, where I think one wing of the ship is just Amish..? It sure is an idea. “They left you. They left you….  She said, ‘I don’t remember.’ He said, ‘I cannot forget.’” I mean, look, God being the only person (I assume, based on Mercymorn and Augustine having this gap in their memory as well) who can remember the death of the planet, and at the hand of trillionaires and ineffectual governments… and neither being able to forget or let go or forgive… and becoming that himself… It’s compelling stuff, I think. I think. (It’s very [redacted] of him. I need to run this take by someone before I post it outright, so, sorry, just noting it here so I remember.) “Another plastic echo of buttons. The same voice answers, but not the same person. The conversation that followed was filled with weird pauses, as though they were actors in a play who couldn’t quite get their cues right.” (229) Take this whole recorded conversation and pull my heart out through my eyeballs. Also adding it to latent thoughts abt sixth house epistolary forms. “Love and freedom don’t coexist, Warden.” A lot about love in this book, and all books, and this line… We are highlight it for later. (230)  (“I am your end.” As in, I will destroy you? As in, I am where you reach your limits? Or I am your limits, your boundaries? Every way you cut it: good. A fun twist on ye olde oath.) “[Pyrrha] was teaching Nona how to dance.” Someone write that fic, too. Someone (Tamsyn) confirm or deny the number of terrible dad moves Pyrrha has or if she exactly dances or what. We note that Lemuria is a fake and sunken city. (239) “Edenites go through people like water… His dads are baggage.” (250) We remain interested in this third ‘civilian’ pov, but also belatedly noting that the increased proliferations of languages, genders, and family formations really does show you have regimented and controlled House life (or elite House life anyway, as we can only really speak for the upper-class representatives) is. It is smart and, again, revealing. “Time exited her body.” (255) re: depictions of violence, death, and John’s potential abilities. Also just very effective writing. “It was A—‘s little brother who said, Well you have to understand money is one big shared hallucination…” Obsessed with Alfred being a hedge fund guy who makes these caveats. I am listening, I am learning, I am adjusting my perception of Alfred Quinque. And also someone, apparently, semi to totally fluent in crypto. Incroyable. “M-- and A—were a united front, and that was scary as fuck. It was always frightening when they stood together.” We have been taking too many shots re: every time John points out A + M acting as a united pair!!! This feeds me. This truly does. “A—and M—looked at it, and looked at me, and they said, Do it.”  + “And that’s when A—and M—stepped in to negotiate.” “They were hitting the table like in a police drama, like, We can end this whenever we want! The ball’s in our court!... I was like Wow, sorry guys, I don’t really know either of these two, they’re very unexpected and mean. I came here to have a good time and I think they’re being very harsh.” This alone could nourish me for weeks, but also Mercymorn/Augustine horrible TV serial AU when. Also deeply revealing for how John has always positioned himself, really. Characterization! We love it! His hands and his fingers and his gestures and his angry, way harsh fists. (274) “Nona… let out a long, bellowing scream, one that went on for ever and ever… and she was screaming blood as well as sound.” (276) Noting for scream-as-language purposes. Good. Good. Good. Good. God, this is so well structured. Inhuman how Tamsyn can say so much and plot so tightly and it’s all so fast as well. 300ish pages just whizzing by. The Acts are strong, etc. You know the drill, more from me here.

[bestiesenpai]

tattoo artist sukuna

I am way overdo to get my sleeve finished and I’m already itching to get a full back piece, so this is right up my alley. Gender neutral reader, and if you’d like to see the tattoo style i reference please go to @/novchild.jpg on instagram :)

It was a spur of the moment decision that led you to drive downtown with your friends at nearly midnight, drunk off each other's energy and eager to do something reckless. Speeding down the motorway, you scrolled through Instagram in search of a tattoo artist.

“Are you guys sure about this?” Your nerves had finally caught up to you as the car was parked in front of the studio you all chose. It was a typical brick and mortar building with a large skull painted on the only window to the outside world. There were a few bald men smoking cigarettes right outside the door, scrawling ink covering their exposed hands and faces.

“Yeah, c’mon!” No one waited for you, everyone climbing out of the car in excitement. Slowly, you got out of the car as well, head down as you walked past the men and into the shop.

Loud, blaring metal music met your ears, jarring you upright and tense. There wasn’t anyone you could see at the front desk, the only workers were huddled in a back corner leaning over something and laughing.

“Which one should I get?” Your attention was drawn away from the men in the corner and to the art hanging on the wall, all different flash sheets from various artists. Some were more gory, clearly drawing inspiration from horror movies while other pieces were bright and colorful, like bubblegum pop come to life.

“Hey.” A gruff voice cut through the loud music, and a man was now leaning against the front desk, spiky black hair in a ponytail with a bored look on his face and several piercings in both ears. He was clearly sizing you up, the black bar going across his nose moving as he did.

Unprepared to speak to him, you were happy when someone else stepped in and started chatting about prices. The man at the counter had on a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, exposing one full arm and hand that was completely blacked out.

“Choso, any customers?” Another shouted, a man wide in stature with long hair. He sauntered up to the counter, tight black t-shirt showing off the traditional Japanese work covering every inch of skin.

“Getou, can’t you see?” Choso rolled his eyes and gestured to your little group.

“I can’t make conversation?” Pulling a face at Choso, Getou leaned his elbows on the counter and flashed a wide grin at all of you. “So, who’s the first to get some ink?” His narrowed eyes looked over your bare skin and you could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I am! I want that one!” One of your friends pointed at the wall, making Getou hum and nod.

“That’s Gojo’s work, he loves to draw the cute shit. I’ll call him over.” As a white haired man walked over at Geto’s call, one by one your friends made their decisions and were paired with artists.

“What did you choose, (Y/N)?” A friend asked, seeing you still stuck staring at the wall.

“I don’t know!” Throwing your head back, you were beginning to regret even tagging along. There were simply too many options and the task of picking something was daunting.

“Having a hard time choosing?” A flash of white crosses your vision and soon Gojo is leaning down into your field of vision, piercing blue eyes staring at you curiously.

“U-uh yeah.” Stumbling back from how close his face is, you realize how tall he is when he stands up straight, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Me and another guy just got done making a new flash sheet, lemme show you.” It takes him only a couple seconds to go back to his station and come back with a piece of thick paper with drawings on it.

Taking the paper, the drawings were unexpectedly cute. A lot of them looked like rough sketches or crayon drawings, simple in concept but intricate in detail.

“I’ll take this one.” Pointing at a mid-sized crayon drawing, your mouth ticked up in a smile as Gojo took the paper from you with sparkling eyes.

“That one is so cute, good choice! One sec!” Tossing the paper down, he dashes away shouting nonsensical words towards the back of the shop where they’d all been huddled up. “Sukuna! Someones here for ya!”

Rising straight up from a chair with a loud groan, a shirtless pink haired man glared sharply at Gojo. Even from a distance you can see the sharp black lines tattooed across his face and down his body, circles on each shoulder, dashed lines across his chest down his stomach and around his wrists as well.

“Geez you can really yell, you know that?” Running a hand through his hair roughly, Sukuna stands up, flexing his muscles and unknowingly giving the whole shop a show of his chiseled physique.

“There’s a client here to get a piece we made together earlier.” Shoving the paper in his face, Gojo points to the piece you selected. Sukuna mumbles a few words and sets his eyes on you, walking over with a swagger that makes you nervous.

“Alright, where do you want it?” Leaning close to you, Sukuna quirks a brow.

“I don’t know.” You sigh softly, looking down at your arms and legs. “I don’t-”

“Your arm, right here.” Grabbing onto your arm, Sukuna turns it outward to expose the flesh of your inner arm. “It would look good right here, about the size of my palm.”

“O-oh okay.” Nodding quickly, your face is burning when he lets go. His touch still lingered on your skin, the edge of his black painted fingernails digging in briefly as they squeezed you.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes, go sign the paperwork.” Sukuna speaks with his back to you, already walking to the station he had been sleeping at and setting up. Rushing to fill in the proper papers, you wait nervously at the front of the shop for your turn.

The rest of your friends are already getting started, the whir of the tattoo machines adding to the ambience of the shop. With a wave Sukuna calls you over to his corner, still shirtless with a pair of gloves on.

“Hold out your arm.” Grabbing you once again, Sukuna angles your arm in front of a mirror by the table. Rubbing ointment on your skin, he sticks the stencil on and rubs firmly, making you squirm from the tickle of his hand getting close to your armpit.

“What do you think?” Stepping to the side, he looks at you in the mirror. “Little to the left? Right?”

“No, it’s perfect.” The longer you look at it, the longer you love it. Giving you a pat on the shoulder, Sukuna led you to the table, having you lay down and stick your arm out.

“This your first one, I can tell.” He said, adjusting your body how he seemed fit and rubbing more ointment on you.

“It’s that obvious?”

“Oh yeah, only a first timer would get something like this from me.” A cocky grin spread across his face and he gestured to the wall behind your head, covered in realistic black and white portraits. “This is normally my speciality.”

“You drew yourself?” Pointing up at one of the pictures that looked exactly like him minus the face tattoos, you chuckled.

“Nah, that’s my twin.” Your brows rose in surprise and you looked between Sukuna and the picture.

“Does he have-?” You waved over your face and body.

“He’s too scared to get a tattoo, says he’ll get ink poisoning and die.” Sukuna laughed, pouring out the various colored ink into little cups. “Won’t even let me do a tiny dot on him!”

“Safe to say you two are pretty different then.” You found yourself laughing a little as well, eased at Sukunas laid back nature.

“Mhmm, he’s busy going on the straight and narrow while I’m here ‘ruining my body’ as our grandpa likes to say.” Flashing quick air quotes, Sukuna revs up the machine and fiddles with the buttons. “Alright, you ready for this? Won’t have virgin skin anymore after this.”

“Yes!” Clenching and unclenching your fist, you pushed a deep breath through your mouth.

“If you start to cry, I won’t stop. And if you pass out, I’ll just wake you up.” That was his final warning before he leaned forward, using one large gloved hand to spread the skin of your arm taut.

The first prick of the needle against your skin made you jolt, sucking in a sharp breath and making your eyes fly open. Sukuna snorted, wiped your arm with a towel and kept going. Honing in on the marks and exposed pipes in the ceiling, you tried not to twitch from the needle anymore.

“You’re doing pretty well.” Sukuna mumbled, briefly sitting up and dipping in for more ink.

“Really?” Taking a look at the tattoo, you were surprised to see only one line had been done. It felt like at least three were placed into you.

“Yeah, don’t screw it up.” Sticking his tongue out at you, Sukuna went back to work. Transfixed on watching him, you saw the lines go into your skin, overflowing with ink and being wiped away repeatedly. You were also watching the way Sukuna’s arms flexed, the muscles in his body all on display right in front of you.

“Tell me about yourself while you stare at me.” Sukuna said, not looking up from your arm. Immediately, your head whipped away from him and a deep burn ran over your face. Sukuna laughed at your embarrassment, patting your arm with the paper towel a few times.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re not the first one to do it.” That didn’t make it any better. Slapping a hand over your face, you let out an unintelligible noise from the back of your throat.

“Just great.”

“It’s okay to say you have a crush on me, a lot of people that come to the shop do.”

“Sukuna!” Laughing through the shame, you glanced over at him.

“Hey, it’s the truth.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well can you blame them when you’re built like that?” Feeling emboldened by the late night hour, you took a rather obvious look at Sukuna’s body. With only a pair of sweatpants on, you could see nearly all the tattoos he had.

“Aw thanks doll, I work out.” Sukuna shot a wink at you, briefly flexing both arms and making you blush again. “But enough about me, what about you? What made you come here so late at night?”

“My friends and I wanted to do something spontaneous.” Returning your gaze to the ceiling, the ache from the tattoo gun was beginning to settle into your skin. “And what better way to be spontaneous than to get a tattoo?”

“Ha, I hear that.”

“Why’d you get the ones on your face and stuff?”

“Thought they’d make me look cool, and I was right.” Giggling at his honesty, you quickly nodded in agreement.

“The ones on your face, did they hurt really bad?”

“The ones near my eyes yeah, those hurt the most. But thankfully Choso has a steady hand, so it didn’t last too long.”

Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your own face, drawing along the edge of your jaw and eye socket. There was no way you could get your face tattooed as heavily as Sukuna had, if at all ever. You had only just now gotten used to the pain of the needle on your arm and you were still twitching every so often.

“How’re you holding up so far?” Sukuna whispers close to your ear ten quiet minutes later. He’s completely focused on tattooing you yet his face is close enough that if you leaned up a little, you could graze his hair with your nose.

“Fine.” You whisper back, suddenly feeling awkward with the low tone of his voice.

“That’s good doll, real good.” His voice dropped even lower, overcompensating for the song ending over the stereo speakers. Trying not to stare at his serious expression, you look over at the other stations. Gojo is chatting up your friend excitedly, and there’s a number of colorful inks laid out before him. Choso and Geto are hard at work as well, with Choso pointedly not speaking, and a blonde man you’d noticed drinking a large mug of black coffee earlier with his button up sleeve rolled up to reveal two dragons on his forearms.

Just as the pain in your arm was starting to truly burn, the tattoo was over. Sukuna washed it down gently, patting your arm and humming to the song playing. Sitting up with a short grunt, he flicked his head to the mirror.

“Go ahead and take a look.”

Sliding slowly off the table, you held your arm out awkwardly and stood in front of the mirror. Your arm was slightly swollen and stinging, shoulder stiff from being in the same position for so long, but a smile spread on your cheeks.

“I love it.” It looked exactly like the picture: a crayon style drawing of a brown haired girl in a giant green frog, a big pout on her lips while the frog sat on a lily pad.

“Lemme snap a couple quick photos before I wrap you up.” Already with his phone out, Sukuna was quick at taking pictures, posing you like when he’d put the stencil on. “I’ll run down the aftercare stuff with you, also give you a card in case you forget any of it.”

You didn’t hear a thing he said about aftercare. Standing nearly chest to chest with Sukuna while he rubbed ointment on your skin and wrapped your tattoo up, the way his arms nearly wrapped around you to put the cover on, the gentle touch of his fingers pressing medical tape to your skin, even the way he was breathing softly and looking at you - it all had you distracted.

“Alright, you’re all done.” Sukuna patted your arm, breaking you from your trance.

“Thank you so much!” Looking down at your tightly bandaged arm, you could feel the intense heat radiating out of it. You quickly snapped your own picture of the bandage as Sukuna dug around in a drawer.

“And since I could tell you were zoning the fuck out just now, I wrote my number down on the aftercare sheet, so text me if you have any questions.” Holding the paper out to you, Sukuna had indeed scribbled his phone number on the paper in thick black marker.

“Can I really just text you?” Taking the paper hesitantly, you fiddled with it in your hands.

“Of course! I want your tattoo to heal well!” Sukuna nodded, throwing his arms out dramatically. Waiting for you to gather your stuff, he walked you to the front of the shop. “Text me anytime doll, I stay up late.” He whispered right before you got to the front counter, making your jaw drop and ears burn.

“(Y/N), you really got a girl in a frog?” A friend laughed, a bandage wrapped around their thigh.

“It’s cute!” You defended it, holding your arm close to your body.

“The cutest fucking one.” Sukuna added on, slapping the counter and pointing at everyone.

“Aren’t you cold without a shirt on?” Choso mumbled, typing away on his phone in the corner.

“No ‘cause I’m not anemic like you are.”

“It’s still cold outside.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s cold in here!” The two of them quickly devolved into petty squabble, giving each other light hearted shoves in the shoulder while Geto collected the money from everyone.

“Bye, thank you so much!” You all called out as you left, waving goodbye and shrugging your jackets back on.

“I’ll be waiting for that text, doll!” Sukuna shouted right as you stepped out, blowing you a kiss when you whipped your head over your shoulder in shock.

“Text? Were you flirting with him?” A slew of curious looks were thrown your way, making your shock even worse.

“N-no!” You stuttered and immediately grimaced at it, face getting warmer as you climbed into the car. “We were just talking while he tattooed me, he just wants to make sure it heals right.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say. Let’s go to the drive through now, Geto told me to eat something after getting tattooed!”

“Hey check Sukuna’s Instagram story, he already posted your tattoo (Y/N)!”

“Really?” Rushing to pull out your phone, it was indeed true. Sukuna had posted one of the pictures he took of your arm, a few silly frog gifs surrounding it, with the caption ‘painted a pretty doll with a pretty frog, hope they come back for more xx’.

“You two were definitely flirting!” Shouts resounded in the car, everyone giggling wildly at the caption. Giggling along with them, you quickly typed a message to Sukuna.

(Y/N): hey Sukuna this is (Y/N). Thanks again for the frog! And the picture you posted on your story looks really good :)

(Sukuna): no problem doll

(Sukuna): next time you want a tattoo, text me and i’ll draw up whatever you want

“Sukuna said he wanted to tattoo me again!” You announced to your friends, all of them oohing and crowding around your phone. “What should I say?”

“I’ll do it!” Someone snatched your phone before you could say anything, rapidly shooting off a message and tossing the device back to you.

(Y/N): are you free tomorrow?

“He’s not gonna-” Right as you were beginning to shake your head and type another message, he replied.

(Sukuna): for you? of course

[spencersawkward]

omg i’m so glad u have a tumblr!! ur literally my fav mgg fic author ❤️ i’m a hoe for that man can u do sleeping together for the first time with like an age gap or something spicy lmao

hi omg thank you 😊 that literally means the world to me! also thank you for requesting one of my fave things to write haha i love first-time-having-sex-together tropes. happy reading! 

summary: reader is an artist who needs some inspiration, preferably from her new boyfriend.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, age gap, creampie, a little breeding kink, oral (male receiving), kind of Dom!Matthew vibes, dirty talk, praise kink with a hint of degradation as well (not super prominent). 

word count: 4.4k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

masterlist

I straighten up and bend backward a bit to relieve the pressure on my spine. my hair is falling out of the knot on my head and I push a stray piece behind my ear, placing the wooden paintbrush between my teeth. aside from the warm, mellifluous tones pouring from the speakers, the apartment is silent.

I've hit a creative wall, it seems. every time I've tried to paint this week, I find myself standing above a stretched canvas with nothing but a frown and crossed arms. even little details feel wrong to add; the empty space is taunting me. it doesn't help that my thoughts have been flooded with memories and fantasies of Matthew. we've been on a couple dates now, sweet outings that leave me fluttery inside. I remember the words he says, the shape of his smile and the curve of his jaw, like they've been been in my mind forever. he's elusive, however, and hasn't initiated anything sexual with me. I think he's afraid of coming on too strong. there's a considerable age gap between us, but I don't care. I want him all the time-- whenever I'm at work, or trying to paint, all I can think of is how good it would feel to have those strong, veined hands on me.

christ.

before I can lose my courage, I text him. if anything can inspire me, it's his presence. likely, he's at work and won't be able to respond or come over, but it's worth a shot.

I'm just sliding my phone into my back pocket when the response comes in. a smile spreads over my face; he'll be over in half an hour. in the meantime, I'll sweep the background with shades that remind me of him: rich, emerald greens, honeyed tones that reminisce of his eyes. he'll pop against any backdrop.

I'm bent furiously over my work when he tells me he's arrived, and my heart thuds in my chest. even after hanging out several times, the butterflies are as alive as ever. they flood my stomach while I buzz him into the building.

"hi." he greets me when I open the door, curls messy. he must have just come from work.

"hi, Matthew." I smile up at him. his gaze travels over my face, my body, taking in my appearance for a moment.

"you look lovely." he says it genuinely, despite the fact that I'm literally wearing a paint t-shirt under a pair of rummaged overalls. I forgot to fix my hair, too.

"thanks." I blush, about to turn away when he bends down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. it's the first time he's said hello that way, and part of me flushes with the knowledge that he's attracted to me right now.

"now," he looks around my apartment as I step back to let him in. "what can I help you with?"

"I have a small favor to ask." I spin the paintbrush between my index and third fingers, reaching out to take his wrist and pull him towards the couch.

"anything," he replies, then sees my setup. "is this your studio?"

"slash living room." I chuckle. Matthew sits on the soft cushions before staring up at me. I don't miss his pupils dilating as they travel over the shape of my body. instead of allowing myself get distracted, I gesture to the wet paint on my canvas. "I need you to model for me."

"like, be your muse?" he beams at the notion, incredibly pleased with himself. I like this about Matthew; although he can be self-deprecating and doesn't take himself too seriously, he appreciates my admiration.

"oh, hush." I giggle. he laughs, reclining on the couch now that he knows why I invited him over.

"how do you want me to pose, Picasso?"

"well, let me re-orient myself." I hold up a hand, grab the abandoned easel, and try to get everything set up. he never takes his eyes off me.

"why were you painting on the floor?" he asks, slightly amused. I jerk my head toward him, narrow my eyes.

"it's my process."

"no judgement." he holds up his hands in surrender. I place the canvas carefully on the easel so that he can't see my work, then gather up my paints, palette, and brushes. there's a moment of pure silence when I frown as I glance between his face and the chasm of space awaiting its representation.

"you look tired." I observe. he lets out a sound that resembles a laugh.

"I am."

"how long did you sleep last night?" I ask as I start painting, focusing on the shape and planes of his face. if I don't get the composition exactly correct, I'll have to throw the whole thing out.

"three hours." he says this like it's normal. my eyebrows shoot up.

"three hours? why?"

"I had to work on lines." he shrugs.

"don't move." I order. he suppresses a grin.

"my sincerest apologies."

"uh huh," I dip my brush into a pale skin shade that I've mixed to match his pigment. "you need to get more sleep."

we continue on like this for a while, making light conversation while I get down the basics of my portrait. I can't handle anything that requires more than a fraction of my attention while doing this, and he seems to appreciate my concentration.

that said, it's beyond difficult to focus when he stares at me like every movement is magical, something he wants to memorize. I feel pliable under his watch, a little bit like a doll. he could bend me every which way, ask me to do anything, and I would give in. and who could blame me?

my thoughts slip into darkened territories, and the hue of my cheeks must do the same, because he gets this mischievous smile on his face that I can't ignore.

"what are you thinking about?" he asks softly.

"hm?" I turn to him. "oh, nothing."

"really?" his brows lift in that intimidating, delightfully entertained way that sets my skin on fire.

"I..." I trail off, wondering if I should give into the chaos in my mind. the thoughts that slash through my psyche whenever I see the width of his shoulders, the fit of his shirt. "I should have asked you to pose nude."

Matthew blushes-- actually blushes-- when I say this, his head dropping momentarily as a grin takes over his features. when he lifts his gaze to mine again, there's a different look in his eyes.

"yeah?"

"mhmm." no taking it back now. "I think that would be too distracting, though."

"how so?" the corner of his mouth tugs up.

"you know why." I avert my attention, only once flitting back to him. his tongue darts out over his lips and he holds contact.

"say it." he dares me. the tone of it, slightly dominant, makes my stomach flip. quietly, I swallow the lump in my throat.

"I have trouble keeping my hands to myself."

we stare at each other, words finding and dying on tongues in the silence.

at this point, my painting has been somewhat abandoned. brushstrokes sit unaccompanied by actual structure, except for the general godly shape of his face, and I'm clenching the utensil between my fingers as if to channel the sexual tension elsewhere.

"is that right?" he notes my absolute stillness and stands up, walking toward me in a relaxed, confident gait. all I can do is look up at him when he stands before me. the top button of his shirt is undone, and I can see the smooth skin beneath, each of the other buttons awaiting my fingertips.

"yes." the word is messy. he runs his index finger over the shell of my ear, bends down, whispers so low that the phrase almost gets lost in the air.

"me too."

he plants a gentle kiss on my jaw, hand reaching tentatively to rest on my waist. I can feel the caution in his actions, the worry he has about pressuring me. I'm cognizant of every breath he takes, especially the hitch when I give into myself and kiss him.

his mouth is warm and soft. the tension twists and knots between our bodies, roiling in the empty space as we resist the energy still. but I don't want to resist. I know that I want this, and he seems to want it just as much.

"Matthew." I pull away, his teeth tugging gently on my bottom lip.

"what is it?" his eyes, dark, search mine. my pulse quickens beneath my skin.

"I want to be with you."

"you are with me." he chuckles lightly, glancing at my features. the full circles of my eyes, the bloom of pink spreading over my cheekbones.

"no," I shake my head. "I mean... I want to be with you."

"you want to have sex?" he asks, clarifying. I nod eagerly, though he frowns a bit. "are you sure?"

"do you not want to?" I try to keep the disappointment out of my face. maybe I misread the situation. the most we've done is make out on his couch and once in an Uber on the way back from our first date. but there's a sweet, burning sensation whenever I see him, something I want to dive into. I want him; I've wanted him since the moment we met.

"of course I want to," he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. relief loosens my chest. "I just don't want you to regret anything."

"I couldn't ever regret this." my eyes travel over his frame, over the little scar beneath his chin. he angles my face up to examine my features. there's a smirk on his face.

"then what are we waiting for?" his hands move to encircle my waist, tugging me to him like I'm something long-awaited, like he needs my weight against his. our lips meet again, my head tilting as we kiss deeply, my fingers twining in his soft hair. I'm standing on my tiptoes as I do it, and one of his hands reaches down to squeeze my ass. he grunts as my pelvis moves against the quickly-forming hard-on in his pants. I can feel it against my stomach as he ruts against me just slightly. I smirk.

"sit on the couch again." I whisper when I pull away. he's holding my face with one hand, staring into my eyes with the kind of dominance that tells me he knows exactly what to do. but I appreciate that he follows my request, pulling my hips toward him as he backs up and sinks onto the cushions. he sits, awaiting my next move. when I sink onto my knees and settle between his legs, he bites hard on his lip. I don't move at first, willing to draw out this beautiful moment when he's watching with undivided attention.

"what are you doing down there, sweetheart?" he feigns innocence when I give him my doe eyes. I run slender fingers over the erection in his pants, his quickened breath an indicator of just how needy he secretly is. I revel in it.

my free hand wraps around his upper thigh, digging my nails in slightly. he's so gorgeous, and the tension of his muscles beneath me is enough to break my resistance. I start to palm him through the fabric, torturing slowly while he runs fingers through my hair and tries not to buck up against my touch. I finally get around to undoing the button on his pants. he waits impatiently. I tug them down his legs, lingering on the waistband of his boxers. when they come down as well, another kind of knot forms in my tummy. he's perfect.

"oh my god." he throws his head back when his dick hits his stomach, the pleasure of releasing it its own sensation.

"hm?" I wonder aloud, wrapping my hand around the base and starting to slowly pump him. he raises his head to look at me.

"you're just... doing so well." he breathes. I grin at how easily I've got him; I was worried about being too shy or him being more experienced, but he's greedy for me. I love the power I have right now.

I surprise him by flattening my tongue against the underside of his cock, dragging it up over the throbbing vein and pausing at the top. I let him stare at me with my mouth hovering over him, the head resting on the tip of my tongue. he moans when I begin to kitten lick the precum that leaks out, grip tightening in my hair as it comes out of the ponytail I made earlier. the veins in his arm clench as I sink slowly onto him. my cheeks hollow. his jaw drops open, dewy skin catching the light, as I start to suck on him.

"fuck..." he trails off. I begin to bob up and down, doing tricks with my tongue and swirling around the head, savoring every single second. his desperate touch, the way he bucks his hips up involuntarily when I try to take him to the hilt, all of it causes me to moan. vibrations draw out sinful noises from him as well, those heavenly sounds that he litters with my name. my hands rest on his thighs at first, then move up to rest on the warm, taut skin of his abdomen. I crave every centimeter of his skin, his contact, especially when I can feel the rushed rise and fall of his panting. I give him full use of my throat, sliding over him and moaning with every tug of my hair. he mutters profanities, praises me, struggles to keep his eyes open just to see me peek up at him from beneath my lashes. his expression tells me he's got plans for me.

"if you don't stop, I'm gonna cum, baby." he groans, smoothly tugging me off of him. there's a slight popping sound and I settle onto my knees, staring up at him. the smile on my face is unmistakable. I love that I can do this to him. I grip his legs and pull myself up into his lap, drawing myself across him just before his erection, glancing down at it. his hands rub over the tops of my thighs, tracing over the curve of my hips and resting on my ass. I start to roll my body down, my lips finding his throat as I suck and bite. my tongue licks over his Adam's apple and he shudders, drawing me closer so that my stomach brushes his cock.

"stop teasing." he starts to undo the straps of my overalls, chuckling a bit to himself as they fall easily. I blush.

"pretty sexy." I joke. Matthew suddenly grabs my chin, holds me in place so that I look him dead in the eyes.

"you're perfect." he smiles admiringly, then toys with the hem of my t-shirt. I reach down, pull it off and toss it somewhere in the room. I'm not wearing a bra, and Matthew slides his hands up my waist, ribcage, pausing just below my tits. when I grab his fingers and place them over me, his dick twitches.

"excited?" I smirk. his fingertips seem to have a mind of their own as they begin to toy with my nipples, the pad of his thumbs teasing me. I sigh, chest pushing out towards him desperately. he holds my body like he's worried I'll crumble, but also in a way that connotes a deep longing. something spilling over.

"can I take you to the bedroom?" he asks me breathlessly, one of his hands leaving my chest to stroke his own cock. the sight makes me groan helplessly while I grip his shoulders and grind against his lap. he picks up the pace for himself. "I can't wait any longer."

I nod eagerly, gasping when he stops touching himself to pull up his pants, hoist me up into his arms, and stand, carrying me with surprising ease down the hallway of my apartment. I point him to the correct room and he laughs when we get inside.

"you're messy." he laughs, although I'm not sure if he means the scattered papers around my bedroom or the whine that issues from my throat as I reach for his clothed dick while I'm pressed to him. it's sitting against my navel and I want to see his undone expressions.

I ignore the playful comment; he lays me down gingerly on the bed, straightening up to gaze at my figure before I push the rest of the overalls down my legs and cast them off. he lets out a giggle as I pout at the work I have to put into getting naked.

"stop laughing..." I blush, smiling. but I'm giggling too. he grazes the inside of my thigh, unable to keep from touching me while I discard my panties.

"I'm sorry." he laughs in a way that shows he isn't sorry at all, but the soft kiss he plants on my lips tells me it's all endearing to him. I wrinkle my nose slightly. for the first time being naked around him, I feel surprisingly comfortable. he watches me with a quiet adoration, like I've spun sugar and gold between my fingers. unable to contain myself anymore, I grab fistfuls of his shirt and undo the rest of the buttons. every second that his skin isn't against mine is a new kind of torture. it comes off easily and then the pants come off, too, until we're just staring at each other.

"do you still wanna do this?" he speaks carefully with me. I don't know where to look-- at his perfect chest, stomach, the purplish bruises already forming across his throat, or his enraptured face. it's almost overwhelming, and the waves of desire crash over me, hindering my words.

"yes," I nod. "yes, yes, yes." the word keeps falling from my lips even as he crawls on top of me, burying his nose into my collarbone and kissing feverishly. one hand supports his arm beside my head while the other reaches down to part my legs. I sigh at the cool air that's interrupted by his dick rubbing over my folds. he starts to grind down, drawing out every second of foreplay while I try to catch my breath. my eyes tilt to the ceiling, fluttering shut. I bask in every sensation. his warmth, his weight, all of it presses down.

"do we need a condom?" he asks softly, his cock throbbing against my center.

"birth control." I shake my head. he nods against my skin, allows me to tangle my fingers in his curls. "I'm clean."

"me too." I reply. he grabs my hip and yanks it towards him, pulling his chest away to straighten while he lines himself up at my entrance. he's concentrating on the place where our bodies meet, eyes full of lust when they peek up at mine.

"tell me if you need me to stop." he says softly.

"okay." I can't think of anything else. every cell of my existence is consumed with thoughts of impatience, and when he slides into me, my thighs tense and my mouth drops open.

"Matthew... oh my god." my voice is more like a mewl, in shock as my walls squeeze around him like they're trying to reject the sudden pressure between my legs. his jaw clenches, sinking into me until he reaches about halfway.

he lets out a surprising groan, leans down to kiss my shoulder as he finds a sweet spot. our chests are pressed together and, judging by the way he wraps an arm around my waist and lifts my torso to his, he likes the feeling.

we stay there a moment, him trying not to hurt me. but then I lift my pelvis up, trying to take more, and he inhales sharply.

"do something," I beg him quietly. "please."

I feel his lips curl into a smile and he pulls his face up to see my expressions. his hips push forward, my body sliding up the bed with the force. he watches my eyes roll back, my ribcage expand, my face overcome by pleasure. his gaze is unrelenting with lips slightly parted as he begins to thrust in and out of me.

I'm already a panting, moaning mess beneath him. he touches his nose to mine, swallowing each other's breaths while he moves.

"is this how you want it, baby?" he smirks, getting lost in his own lust. I nod and he gently turns my face to his. "tell me what you want."

"more." I sigh, hips again raising to meet the thrusts that are growing more forceful each time. my nails drag up his back, the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair and tugging at the ends. he sinks his teeth into my neck lightly and moans. I wrap my legs around his torso.

"such a pretty girl..." he growls in my ear. his grip on the sheets tightens when I clench myself around him, drawing him impossibly closer to my core. I can't help the helpless moans spilling out of me. I'm insatiable right now, scratching at his shoulders until I'm sure I'll leave red marks. he groans lasciviously at the clawing, ramming into me with an unrelenting voracity.

"oh my god," I yelp, back arching as he hits my g-spot. "right there, Matthew." my pleas fall on receptive ears: he holds me tighter to his chest and pounds into me.

"you like getting fucked by older men?" he whispers dirty things in my ear and I nod quickly, hardly able to speak through the ungodly sounds escaping my mouth. I cling to him and he lets me, treating every limb like it belongs to him.

"yes-- fuck, yes." I moan, almost sliding out of his grip from how hard he goes.

"you can take it," he breathes out, fingertips digging into my ribs while he holds me up. he's leaving marks that won't go away for a while, remnants of the full power of his desire. I want more, writhing and using my limited mobility to grind against him. he chuckles darkly over my skin. "look at you."

"Matthew, I'm gonna--" I gasp when he slams into me particularly hard. "I'm gonna cum."

"good." he shudders slightly, that attitude showing again. he reaches his hand up a moment to run through my hair. "cum on me, princess."

my lips part and I try to gulp down air, but it's impossible with the way he's holding my attention. the thing about Matthew is that he's so sweet and gentle that whenever he looks at me like I'm a plaything, it shocks my insides. they turn to jelly, eager to please and quick to satisfy. he switches so easily with me, and he doesn't even need to request my submission. I give it more than willingly.

"fuck me..." I pant out, feeling my pussy start to clench over and over around him. my orgasm fuzzies the edges of my vision, creeping up my spine until it's arched. "oh fuck-- Matthew!" I practically scream while my frame gives out. I'm shuddering, crying out at the absolute euphoria wracking my body.

"scream my name, baby." he groans, his own orgasms approaching quickly. the fluttering of my cunt around him is causing the vein in his forehead to throb. he rocks into me, the headboard knocking into the wall while he nears the edge. "such a good girl for me."

I nod and meet his thrusts with my hips while I ride out my orgasm, inadvertently finding myself wound up again. the pleasure of his fingers when they reach between our bodies to rub my clit causes me to buck into him, whining mercifully while he gets me off again.

"oh--" he sucks in a breath when I squeeze, keeping him here with me. "you feel so good."

he starts to lose control, hips juddering to get as deep as he can get.

"can I fill you up, baby?"

"yes." I reply immediately. he smiles a little, lifting me up more so that he can hold me under my ass while he pounds into me so deeply, I can feel his dick brushing my cervix.

"oh my god," he moans, the sound desperate as I feel him twitch and spill inside of me. he keeps pushing as though to keep his cum within me, panting over my skin. "such a tight little cunt."  

the circles on my clit, combined with the sinful things he continues to say, cause me to whimper and climax all over again. I moan his name, absorbed in the warmth of his seed in my stomach.

"you want more?" he slows his thrusts but pleasures me through my orgasm while I nod helplessly.

"I'll cum in you again tonight." he promises, taking my shaking, weak form as a sign to withdraw. both of us wince at the sensitivity until he lays me back down on the bed so gently, it makes me question if what we just did was real.

neither of us speaks for a moment, trying to regain our composure as he rolls down onto the mattress beside me. I stare up at the ceiling, feeling him drip between my thighs.

"that was..." he turns his head to gauge my reaction. I don't even bother to hide the satisfied grin on my face.

"amazing."

"yeah?" he rolls over onto his side and places one large hand on my stomach. his touch makes me bloom.

"mhmm." I hum. his face is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, a beautiful sight that makes me want to kiss him all over again. I didn't know it was possible to feel this way for someone so quickly.

"can I get you anything?" he smiles. I don't say anything at first, only reach out to cup his face in my hands and pull him to me for a chaste peck.

"no, thank you." I rub my nose with his. "I'm gonna take a shower and make something to eat if you want to join me."

"definitely." he examines my features once more as if to assess damage. but there's only pure joy painted across my face. "are you sure I didn't go too hard on you?"

"you can go harder tonight." I tease.

"what about your painting?" he suddenly recalls the project lying in the living room.

"rain check." I shrug. he laughs, wraps an arm around my waist.

"alright, then."

[deadmunds-ghostbee]

Rambling thoughts/analyses on each of the even newer stills:

1. I cannot stress enough how fuckin HUGE that corgi is. Austin, sir, jesus christ how’d you grow so long? Kate looks hot as fuck and regal here, and maybe it’s just how the light is hitting it, but the wig looks a lil funky, but only if you’re paying attention. Someone pointed out n the tag that the pink house and portrait in the back might be Danbury’s. But then there’s Mary’s sister too? So who knows where they’re staying, but interesting that Newton is there. Flowers are beautiful and I love kate’s earings even tho we can’t see em much. Also that teal color strikes again. Probably early on in the show.

2. Oh, to be one of those horses. First off BRAID. VERY LONG BRAID. Might mean we ever see Simone’s natural hair but I love a fuckin braid. Second off. Riding crop. Kate, babe, smack him with it he’ll like it I promise. Now in all seriousness this forest hangout is maybe a first meeting? The time Anthony shows off his deficient horsemanship? They look like they’re arguing but not in a terrible way. Some fun bants maybe for us and they leave the conversation intrigued by each other. Or maybe its not a first meeting at all. She’s wearing teal again and it’s long sleeved like that picture with newton from the last batch of stills (ep 01). Also, note no ring.

3. Probably the best picture of all time tbh. Very cartoon, very scooby doo. All the expressions are priceless. Daphne seems so out of it. All the leaning (why tf are they leaning down???) and Fran’s sneaky hand has me dead. Ben and Hyacinth and Greg and violet are astonishing. Anthony straight at the camera kinda deadpan but also alarmed is perfect. Colin’s maybe still away since this is right at the beginning with the debut in front of queen.  Eloise is presumably getting ready. They could be looking at her, but they’re all leaning so the only way that works is if she’s hiding. Which isnt unreasonable. But still this is so so staged maybe it’s just a fun pic and not from a specific scene/shot

4. So many thoughts on this. The dresses, (people have a lot of thoughts Kates specifically. Personally I think simone looks so beautiful but the dress is a bit clunky. I’m not a fashion person so no real opinion.) Wigs looking okay to my untrained eye actually, Kate’s gloves are hot as hell. Edwina’s are so cute. Also so much jewelry. (Gonna go into my side tangent but if you’re crazy and pay attention to me I have a crackpot theory about the tradesman mary married being once poor-now rich jeweler who just passed and now they have all his shit/money to fuck around the ton with.) Kate’s vibe here is so interesting, she looks vaguely over whatever Ed is talking about or maybe like she doesn’t believe the concerns. It’s very wiser/more jaded older sister energy here. No ring on her finger either.

5. Going to be respectful bc I think we all know what I am actually looking at, but I like the wig here. Makes sense that she’d writing, looks like a list tbh. Or maybe she’d writing colin. 

***

Okay that’s all my thoughts :) 

[comehomeducklings]

Present [Part 1] (Obsession)

A/N: Please don't copy, redistribute, and/or post my work on this site or any others. This has taken my time and creativity to come up with the story's characters and plot.

Also, I swear my writing gets better. It's a little rough right now but I'm planning on rewriting them.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

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1943 ~ 6th year

No sound above whispers could be heard throughout the great hall. The food on the table hasn't been touched by a single hand. The very thought of eating churning all our stomachs. Not during these times. Our heads turn every now and then, afraid of what might sneak up behind us. The death of Myrtle and others has shaken the entire school. A murderer is among us, trust is such a foreign concept now.

Dark purple eye-bags lay beneath every single student's eyes. No one is allowed to go home for the holidays. They aren't allowing us to leave, we are stuck in this cloud of darkness and uncertainty. No owls are supposed to be sent out. As the head girl, I'm responsible for every student's life and responsibilities. I have to know where everyone is at all times. It gets tiring at times, but necessary nonetheless.

A nightly routine consisted of all my dormmates huddling around each other. No sleep would come to us all night. We wouldn't move from the same spot until light shown from the windows. Our beds are all pressed together in the farthest corner of the room from the door. Our wands never leaving our hands in case of danger. Every little sound made from the outside provoking us. Even to the point of going mad. Potions used to stay awake, slowly wearing off as the morning arose. No sleep, we can't afford that luxury anymore.

I would leave the dorm to wait at the portrait for our assigned house professor to come. They would tell me it was safe for everyone to head to the great hall to get breakfast. As soon as they were done I quickly went to everyone's dormitory to wake them up, if they even slept at all. I would then inform them that it was safe to step out of their dorms. After everyone got situated I would have the students form a line and lead them towards the great hall. 1st-3rd years would occasionally hold the folds of my robes. Fearing that when they blink I would be gone. Leaving them alone to deal with the dangers that lurk in the school.

Not once have I lied about how they are going to be all right. That would be cruel. These students don't seek pathetic nurturing words, they want a protective force watching over them. So many clubs and activities have been canceled. Hogsmede and quidditch proving as a prime example. No one complained though, quidditch players too afraid to even step out of the castle's walls even if they were allowed.

Back to the present, I hold my good friend's hand as she slightly shakes from anxiety. I can see it in her eyes, the doubt of making it alive eating away at her brain. The spark once present in her shiny green eyes being blown out. Amelia, her name being. She's been biting her nails again, to the point where it had bled. This can be backed by the dried-up blood that is present at the tip of her finger's nail.

A booming voice can be heard, "You are now being dismissed to head to class, your houses head girl and boy will be assigning the group you'll be heading off with."

First period has been removed from every perfect and head's schedule. During this time we search the whole castle for any wanders. We make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. If someone got lost or went to the wrong class we escort them to where they need to be.

After every class, students have a limited amount of time to get to their next lesson. Although, perfects and heads get more time to make sure everyone is where they are needed quickly. Then we hurry to our class after scanning the halls swiftly.

The once safest school of the wizarding world giving birth to the dark ages. More bodies have been found littering the schools. Most of them not found until their ghosts appear before us. Every single one not knowing how they died. Like the murderer is invisible upon meeting the victim. I originally suggested it could have been done by poison. When the bodies were checked, no traces of poison had been traced.

Professors have been waiting for the person who is responsible to slip up, to give us a clue. I don't think that will happen though. The process of these killings has been too thought out and well planned. I wouldn't be surprised if these mass killings have been planned months before, even maybe years. I've been talking to the ghosts to try and gather all details, even the potentially useless ones. When our headmaster made us heads keep tabs on everyone, the killings stopped for a short amount of time. It was like the mastermind was creating a way to best us, to get past the "little inconvenience." It didn't take long for them to find the weak parts in the plan.

What we have got though, is that every single student killed has been a muggle-born. A classic case of an unfair stigma around the poor wizards and witches. They never were able to catch a break. Amelia, one of my close friends in the friend group. She's a muggle-born, hence the shaking of her hands. I've been keeping a closer eye on her, she doesn't leave my side. She comes on my patrols so I can keep her in my sights, with of course the permission of the teachers. There are only two times that I can not watch over her. Those two times are covered by my other friend Devyn, a pure-blood. She also helps keep her safe, not letting her go anywhere by herself. The two times are because she's in two different classes than I am. One of them being a study hall.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

"Professor, how will this class help us now? Reading teacups for predictions should be the least of our worries right now," a student at the back of the room exclaims.

"The said predictions could lead us to the future before it happens. Our worries lay exactly what will happen in the future. If anything, this is one of the most important classes we'll take this year," I say, continuing to read the teacup.

"Precisely, thank you. Now go back to studying, I'll be coming around to view your interpretations."

My tea leaves look more like a blob with a cross going through them. A weirdly shaped blob. I already know there is a cross, but what about the blob? I tried shaking it a little, looking at the leaves from different angles. I already crossed off a club, falcon, and the sun. It could be an acorn, but I see a slight hole in the blob.

Could it be...

"A skull that is." I jump at the sudden voice near my ear. My teacup almost falling from my grasp.

"Pardon, a what?"

She points towards two holes in the blob, one of them I just mentioned, "I saw you already found one hole, there's the other. How it's shaped could be a little difficult to see since the cross is through it, but it's there."

The professor takes the cup from my hand and lays it on her desk. Some of my classmates look at me in curiosity, but they soon lose interest and go back to their own tea leaves.

A cross and a skull, that sounds about right to how my school year is going so far. I scan my book to see exactly what they mean.

A skull, danger in your path.

A cross, trials and suffering.

"What d-did you find?" A Hufflepuff boy to my right asks.

I don't want to scare the poor boy, he's already frightened enough as it is. If my future got around to the school, everyone would start being concerned about me. I'll barely get any of my duties done if I didn't already get it taken away for my safety. Last thing I need right now is even more panic.

"Nothing much, the future is still a little foggy."

"That's, um, good. I couldn't really read mine either," he chuckles lightly, almost seemingly forced.

Our professor claps her hands together, "Class is dismissed, read up about your predictions if you haven't already. No homework today."

I gather my books and push in my chair. Right before I could reach the door where other students are waiting, the teacher stops me.

"I'll have to tell the headmaster about this, I shouldn't keep it a secret."

"No, please don't. If you must, only tell Albus. I can't have this messing anything up, I'll become vulnerable."

The professor looks around the room, her eyes wandering franticly. I'm sure I am asking a lot from her. I really need her to keep this a secret.

"Oh alright, you're my best student. I just would hate to see anything happen to you. I'm informing only Albus to see if he can keep an eye on you."

"Thank you so much, I swear I'll be careful." A huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. I can't be worrying about my future when I have to worry about everyone else's.

I leave the classroom and start heading to my next class. Potions have always been one of my favorite classes. Mixing a bunch of toxins into a pot is a specialty of mine. I'm quickly scanning the halls for any wanderers, making sure everyone is at class. My feet take me to Potions in a hurry. I don't want to miss much, trying to make the class as informational as possible.

"You shouldn't be running, you still have 3 minutes of checking the school."

It's always him, I even tried changing routes to avoid him. His idiotic smirk, thinking he actually did something. All he did is waste my time and train of thought.

"I'm allowed to run Riddle, it's not a rule. I already checked the halls I was assigned, did you?" I really have no energy for this.

Tom peers down at me, somehow still wearing that infamous smile. Eyes bright, filled with mischief and knowledge.

"I have, double-checked as well. I'm sure you only checked once. Such irresponsible actions, I still wonder how you nabbed the head-girl spot."

I choose not to answer, not giving in to his baiting. Does he think I'm that stupid? That easily bothered by a simple test of my patience.

"You could have just said you wanted to walk me to class Riddle. No need to be shy with me."

"Shy, a concept I would not know of. Might as well bring you to class, since I'm heading there myself. Wouldn't want you to be in danger, since you consistently prove you can't handle a simple check of the hallways."

"I told you Tom-"

"Once is not enough, you should know that by now," he interrupts me, feigning a sudden serious facade on.

We start heading towards Slughorn's room. I'm a little behind his figure. Mostly looking down to make sure I don't step over his feet and fall. He sometimes walks with me, very confusing if I may say. Hating my skills, probably still hates me. You can often find us arguing if we are ever partners in class together. The usual game we play, how many questions can we get right by the end of class. Last time he won by one point, my sour mood not helping the atmosphere.

"You look rested, more than me at least," I smile tiredly. My whole body slightly sagging forward from exhaustion. He looks as proper as someone could be. His skin is a little pale though, brighter than usual. Almost like he was sick, his eyes look darker too. More sunken in, the shape of his skull more prominent. His looks still annoyingly well presented.

"Yes, you do look rather tired. I see other things have prioritized above your looks."

This man, the audacity of this man. The only reason I'm not at the top of every class. Our number 1 student count being evenly split. I have to bite down on my tongue forcefully to not say anything back. I'm too tired to truly come back with anything witty, so I choose to save myself from the embarrassment. Instead, I slightly step on his robe on the ground causing him to trip up a little.

He quickly sends a warning glare my way and then continues walking. I smile slightly, knowing even if it was petty, it was worth it.

Riddle doesn't even hold the door for me when we walk in. Causing it to slam dangerously close to my face.

"There you two are, I was afraid you weren't going to make it," Slughorn exclaims excitedly. "Turn your textbooks to page 246, we are going to learn how to make a Polyjuice potion!"

I glance at Tom, his eyes only focus on the words before him not realizing my gaze is on him. I wonder if he'll make this a competition as well. Knowing him, as well as me, anything but competition is out of our character. He looks up catching my eyes, I tilt my head. Trying to silently communicate from afar.

His head turns to Slughorn, then back to me. He nods his head and that's all it takes for both of us to come to an understanding. Whoever can answer the most questions, and create the best potion gets bragging rights.

I don't intend to lose.

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Strawberry Jam Sandwich | Regulus Black x Reader

Warnings: Nothing :)

Time/Era: Marauders Era

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N Potter and Regulus Black are a match made from heaven, even if other people didn’t expect it. 

Request: hello first of all I really like your writing and hope you and your loved ones are doing well. could you write a regulus black fic? like reader is James’ sister and they get married (because regulus doesn’t die) and years later they meet Harry?

A/N: Thank you and thank you for the request! Let me know how you like it! Enjoy! I love Reg and I’m so excited to FINALLY write for him!! For anyone else wanting a fic; please request away! 

masterlist | read on ao3

Y/N Potter and Regulus Black were a weird pairing in most people’s eyes. Both being the younger siblings of the two most popular guys in school, it made their peers raise their eyebrows. Not to mention, they were in rival houses and seemed to be on opposite sides of the war. But they just worked. 

Y/N was a lot like her older brother, James; very loud and loveable. She was naturally talented on the quidditch field and loved to make friends. It was obvious that she had relationships with people of all the houses due to her outgoing attitude and warm sense of humor. While Regulus also played quidditch, he was much more introverted and shy. He didn’t have many friends, due to being categorized by his surname automatically, so he often kept to himself and spoke only when necessary. Y/N was the talker, Regulus was the listener. 

Funnily enough, Y/N and Regulus met through the means of getting Sirius to make amends with Regulus again. Regulus had cornered Y/N in the library and begged her to help him come up with a plan to talk to his brother. They ended up meeting multiple times in the following weeks and grew to be friends. 

Regulus adored her ability to be interested in small things; she once asked him what a necklace he wore meant. It didn’t mean anything in particular, but she sat and listened to him speak about his jewelry for almost 15 minutes. No one ever took the time to listen to what the younger Black sibling had to say. 

To their ‘plan sessions” in the library, Y/N always brought a strawberry jam sandwich to munch on. They met after her quidditch practices, so James and Sirius wouldn’t find them, which meant she needed a snack to keep her energy levels up. She always offered him half, which the rather regal boy would decline nearly every time. Nearly. Regulus found her little snack absolutely adorable, especially when the jam got all over her face. It made her lips even pinker, and that much more kissable. 

The sandwich became an inside joke between the two quickly. Even when passing in the halls, they would scoff and find the most outlandish way to mention the food. It wasn’t funny in hindsight, but it was something that connected the two in its ridiculousness. 

~

Regulus paced back and forth among the bookshelves of the Hogwarts library, hoping to bump into his now best friend, Y/N. The library was near empty, as it was Friday night and very close to curfew, so even just looking for her held very little hope. She had mentioned something about having to finish an assignment she was procrastinating, so Regulus hoped she followed his advice to just get it over with. 

The bookshelves were high and blocked most of the ceiling in the room, making the books impossible to read. Long, vertical shadows cast their darkness over almost every inch of the floor and offered very little light to allow him to navigate the maze of shelves.  During the day, of course, this was a different considering the wall of windows that looked over the courtyards. The window seats were some of his favorite places to come and think. And the seats just happened to be his and Y/N’s meeting spot. 

Regulus was about to give up on his search, but he noticed Y/N hunched over an astronomy book, sitting on the floor with her back leaning against a bookshelf. He casually slipped next to her, offering a shy hello. 

“Hey, Black. What are you doing here?” 

“I was about to ask you the same thing, Potter. Not exactly the best studying environment.” Regulus tilted his head back until it hit the books and turned his head to see her. 

“Well, I’m trying to save myself from having to do this entire project tomorrow. I have a book, yet you appear literature-less. What’s your excuse?” Y/N moved so she sat with her legs crossed, the thick book laid open on her lap. 

“I came to return this, you left it at our last meeting.” He placed a slightly toasted strawberry jam sandwich on the book. It was wrapped lazily in a green napkin and left an abundance of crumbs on her homework. Upon further inspection, the words will you be my girlfriend? were scribbled messily on the paper in black ink. Y/N’s jaw grew slack as she looked over at the highly attractive man next to her. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I just wanted to ask.” 

“Are you being serious?” 

“Dead, Y/N.” 

A smile crept over her features and she held out half of the sandwich. “Suppose we can start our relationship with a snack?” 

Regulus accepted the food, making a subtle crunching noise as he bit into it. “I suppose I can make the exception to eat your exceptionally plain choice in snack food, just this once.” 

~

“I’m sorry, you’re dating who?” James laughs, shrugging his younger sister off before grabbing his broom. 

By this point, Y/N and Regulus have been sneakily dating for more than half a year and Y/N was tired of hiding their relationship. After Regulus and Sirius had failed to rekindle their relationship, Sirius shoved his brother even further away than they started. It hurt the younger black to the point of giving up, but even he was tired of hiding their relationship. He loved Y/N with his entire being, and his jerky older brother couldn’t ruin that. 

“Have you ever even talked to Regulus before?” Sirius adds, grabbing his own broom to prep for quidditch practice. 

“Yes, and I am dating him. Not sure what’s so hard to understand about that.” 

“We understand it, just don’t believe it. Now, don’t speak about things you don’t understand.” James kicked off the ground and flew in the direction of the quidditch pitch. 

“Don’t understand? Excuse me?!” 

“He’s right. I know you were just trying to prank us, but joking about something that personal isn’t funny, Y/N.’’ Sirius mounts his own broom and flies off after James. 

After practice, Y/N hurried to the library to meet her slightly anxious boyfriend. Regulus knew you were telling Sirius and James, and he knew they would react badly. Y/N saw Regulus sitting on the windowsill furthest from the door and hurriedly walked over. 

“Hey! How’d it go?” He asked after Y/N pecked his lips and sat next to him. Regulus wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. 

“Not much to tell, really. They said I was trying to prank them and to not talk about things I didn’t understand. Honestly, I kind of wish they yelled.” 

Regulus laughed and kissed her temple. “They’ll come around, I’m not exactly their favorite person so I can see why they don’t believe it. And I’m happy they didn’t yell because I know how you feel when people yell and I don’t want you to feel like that.” 

“Holy shit! Get away from my sister!” James’ voice filled the area, Sirius quick on his heels. They must have been following Y/N after practice. 

~

“Riddle me this, you want to spy for the order and potentially get KILLED?!” Y/N paced around the living room of Regulus and her shared flat. 

It didn’t take long for Sirius to reaccept Regulus back into his life after seeing how he treated Y/N. At first, both older brothers thought Regulus was using Y/N to feed secrets and information to the opposing side of the war. They didn’t accept the couple and wanted Y/N to have nothing to do with the boy. But, after many feelings were hurt and various words were shared, they decided to give the boy a chance. 

Regulus treated Y/N like a queen and made sure his girl knew how much he loved her. He wasn’t very good with words, but his actions spoke volumes. Flower bouquets were gifted periodically, as were small gifts that had a lot of thought put into them. During one of their study dates, he spent over an hour drawing a beautiful portrait of her. Not too long after, he gave her an entire sketchbook of drawings he knew she would love. Whether that was pictures of her friends, family, her favorite flowers, or something as mundane as the bench she loved to sit on, the gift had taken hours and hours of his time. It was obvious that Regulus was in love with his girl. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, both Regulus and Y/N joined the Order of the Pheonix. Regulus still had heavy ties with Voldemort and his family, so Dumbledore asked him if he would consider being a spy for the Order. Even Sirius thought it was a bad idea. But, he had to prove that he wasn’t who he was raised to be. He had to prove himself to not only everyone around him, but to his inner soul. 

“Listen, Dumbledore thinks that there’s a spy that infiltrated the Order and if I can find out who, maybe I can stop it. Think about it, James has a kid, a kid who is very valuable to you-know-who. We haven’t even spent a ton of time with him yet, but I know I can save him if I find the spy.” 

“Yes, I realize that, Reg. But I can’t lose you in the process. We’re supposed to get married and have kids of our own and have a happy life-” Y/N takes a deep breath. “I can’t live without you.” 

Regulus smiles a comforting smile, taking his girlfriend’s hands in his. “I know, darling. I’m not going anywhere. How about this,” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring box, presenting it to Y/N. “Let’s get married. I’ve never been a fan of the big white wedding...and all you need is a few witnesses and two signatures. I’m sure Sirius and James would be more than willing to witness. What do you say?” 

Y/N gapes at her boyfriend. “Are you asking me to marry you?!” Regulus laughs and pecks her lips. 

“I love you so much, Y/N Potter. You are the light of my life and I am so lucky to have you. You have brought me so much joy and really made me the best person I could be,” He wipes a tear delicately from Y/N’s skin. “I asked James for his blessing, too, after the last Order meeting. He said he was ecstatic for us. So, Y/N, will you marry me? We can eat strawberry jam sandwiches together for the rest of our lives.”

“Yes! A thousand times yes!”

~

“Hi, little one, I’m your uncle, Regulus, remember?- Ow! Not the hair!” Regulus sat in a suit in the parlor of Potter cottage with one-year-old harry in his lap. Y/N watched from the doorway, decked out in her white cocktail dress and heels. She couldn’t help but gush at the sight of her soon to be husband with a child; it felt so natural. Her heart swelled just thinking about watching him play with their own children. 

“Yeah, he does that, keep him at a distance,” James responded, coming into the room. He was running late, as always, and was trying to tie his tie. “I can’t believe I’m witnessing my baby sister getting married!” 

Harry gargled and reached his hands towards his father. “Dadadadada!!!!” 

“I know, buddy, I’m right here. Hang out with your Uncle Reg for a while, yeah?” James responds, messing with his hair in the mirror. No matter how much he ‘fixed it,’ it all looked the same.

“It’s crazy how he looks so much like you, it’s like you copied your baby photos and made them come to life!” Y/N stated. Harry was almost an exact copy of James, but with Lily’s eyes. 

Sirius came into the room, perfectly dressed with his hair tied back. “Well, are we leaving or not?” He asked, fixing the bowtie around his neck in the mirror for the 8th time. 

“Pa’foo!” Harry squeals and squirms in Regulus’ arms. His grip tightens around the baby before pressing a kiss into his dark curls. 

“No, not Pa’foo! Reg!” Sirius turned towards Y/N and whistled. “Damn, Reggie, not sure how you picked up this one! Look at the legs on her! Phew, lucky I don’t snatch you up myself!” 

“Stop it! Can we please go?” Y/N swatted Sirius’s chest with her bag, embarrassed.

James plucked Harry from Regulus’ lap and hands him to Lily. “Yes, yes. Sorry, let’s go!” James kisses Lily’s cheek and disapperates out of his house.

Y/N walks over to Regulus and offers him a hand. “Ready to go get married?” 

“I’ve never been more ready, my love. “ 

[dilfbatman]

dil do you have any spare soft dad bruce headcanons? love that dilf

omfg... my brain is always on soft dad dilf bruce mode

- bruce loves to hang out w his kids any chance that he gets bc he knows time is priceless/his babies have grown up right before his eyes and he just wants to be aware/attentive to his kids

- does a family photoshoot/portrait every year! it’s pretty casual and he does a family one and makes sure to get one w each of his kids (and lets the kids/himself/alfred do memey ones) - and his picture with jason is one of his favorites bc jason is genuinely smiling and has his arm slung over bruce’s shoulder and bruce is v overwhelmed w emotion and just hugs jason afterwards and cried a bit. the whole family is now in a huge bear hug and bruce is crying laughing and jason is holding his tears in laughing and everyone else is trying to jump onto bruce & jason

- bruce and tim are so similar in so many ways and they both will sometimes at 4 am go to the batcave and play games on the batcomputer <3 they both have Gamer Chairs and eat chips and drink energy drinks until they knock out and tim will Absolutely be snuggled into bruce bc bruce is a human space heater and gives the best dad snuggles <3 tim also is one of the main batboys who loves to lecture bruce and bruce can’t help but listen to tim’s conviction and is ultimately put in timeout by his own son LMFAO but also bruce is a brown immigrant father so he will cut up fruits and such for his kids and does so for tim all the time... that’s how he shows especially that he loves tim and he gives it wordlessly

- i have a vision in my brain that one day dick is doing a performance at a circus either for fun or for a mission and his whole fam is in the audience and he’s smiling super wide and he takes that step to do the trapeze and all bruce can do and all everyone can do is watch in utter awe and at the end bruce is really crying hard bc it’s such a full circle moment... like it all started w having dick in his life and he hugs him and cries so hard and then everyone once again groups hug it out (damian punches bruce near the balls so he can hug dick) (valid) <3 in the carride home dick and bruce can be seen blasting music and singing like back in the old days

- bruce cass duke are like SO unbelievably close in my mind... they’re his babies and he can never say no to them so like everyone else they’ve been taught the art of asking for dumb shit bc bruce is incapable of seeing his kids be Sad... cass wants to buy a ballet studio? done! duke wants to buy a ferrari? lemme guess it’s bright yellow... done! cass and bruce like to knit together and sew and w duke bruce loves to go out! they go shopping or minigolfing or go on bike rides and i think in his heart he has some of the softest spots for them... they’ve seen how hard and cruel the world can be but they choose to do good and it makes him v proud

- bruce and jason... now i have so many feelings about these two... it reminds me of that quote “it’s rotten work” “not to me. not if it’s you” i think no matter what life or death throws at them you can’t get rid of that genuine love! bruce still has a picture of jason in his wallet (he does of all his kids but jason is the only one with 3 pictures) and when jason has nightmares bruce is there to hold him! jason teaches bruce how to bake and cook so they both like learning new recipes together :’) they bring back their reading time and they also like to ride their motorcycles together

- bruce & dami <3 i love the idea of damian warming up to the people he loves by giving them art & paintings! one day damian gives bruce a portrait of bruce & his parents that damian made himself and bruce is speechless but he’s about to cry so unbelievably hard and he hugs damian so fucking hard and just whispers i love you’s and thank you’s and damian knows how much it means to him :’) bruce puts it above the mantle! they both also fund many animal shelters together! bruce & dami can be also found at the arcade playing cheese viking and you can always find bruce somehow holding his son when they’re out :’)

- also. again bruce is a brown immigrant father therefore he is ALWAYS done w his children. he has his kids on a physical leash like when they go to batmart or something bruce has damian on a bat leash bc damian will always run away and jason is sitting in the cart and so is dick and duke is on bruce’s back getting a piggy back ride and cass and tim are both on the side of the cart annoying jason & dick respectively <3 alfred is in the maldives drinking a mimosa

[ladyblogger-margie]

Pride Parade

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Summary: Sam goes to Pride and just happens to run into Bucky Barnes, his crush, while both navigate their roles in the LGBT community as bisexual men and Avengers. 

Warning: G-Rated. Kissing, brief mentions of drinking, brief mentions of homophobia. 

Word Count: 1191

a/n: Happy Pride all! This is for Writer Wednesday and Jey’s Pride Celebration 2K21 week 1. To any bisexuals who don’t feel welcome at Pride, we are part of this community and you don’t have to justify yourself or identity to anyone. You’re enough. 

MY MASTERLIST

Sam checked over his shoulder as he heard a squeal behind him, wondering if it was for him. It wasn't, it was just a girl who had run into her friends. He was Captain America, but he was here today as an out and proud bisexual man and he just wanted to feel part of the community and not have to be a symbol all the time. 

He didn’t come unprepared though. There had been reports of counter-protestors planning to disrupt today’s Pride Parade and he was not going to just slink away if that happened, he would stand strong against the bigots and protect his community. 

He was waving a flag and cheering for the non-corporate floats in support of local clubs and charities when he saw him. Bucky Barnes was stalking the parade, he’s eyes assessing the crowd across the street from where Sam stood under the baking sun. Even in this heat, Bucky was wearing a long sleeve shirt, trying also to blend in. 

Sam was curious about the state of Barnes and his presence here today, while the two were openly out with each other as their friendship had developed, neither had mentioned they would be at the parade today to each other. 

Sam didn’t want to make Bucky uncomfortable, but he also was too curious to help himself to find out why Bucky looked so serious. Sam saw a slim break in the parade and darted swiftly across the street to cut Bucky off in his prowl. 

Bucky was shocked to see Sam, but the cues to this were subtle and early in their friendship, Sam would have missed the slight widening of his eyes and the ever so slight stiffening of his shoulders. He recognized them now though, so it was clear to Sam that he surprised Bucky. 

“Weren’t expecting me?” Sam asked. 

“You didn’t mention you’d be here,” Bucky said with a shrug, avoiding eye contact. 

“Neither did you,” Sam said and Bucky tilted his head dismissively. 

“I’m not really sure I belong here,” Bucky admitted. 

“You’re bisexual, why wouldn’t you belong here?” Sam asked. 

“I’m too old, too out of touch,” Bucky explained, his eyes still scanning the crowd. 

Sam scoffed, “Oh come off it, the B in LGBT isn’t there for decoration. Frankly it’s the only credential you need.”

Bucky smiled, “I’m here in case those anti-protesters show up, I figure if I can help with that, I could stick around.”

Sam smiled sadly at Bucky, the only place Bucky fell into naturally was with Sam and his family. Everywhere else Bucky felt the need to earn love, attention and belonging and he either avoided trying all together, or tried so hard it broke Sam’s heart. 

“You could’ve asked me to come with you,” Sam offered. 

“You could’ve asked me,” Bucky replied. 

Sam nods his head, “Well, here we are anyway. Did you wanna patrol together?”

“You were just watching the parade,” Bucky said, holding back a smile.

“Do you want company or not, man?” Sam asked playfully, shoving Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, let’s walk,” Bucky said. 

The pair started walking, deliberately keeping their fingers from brushing against each other. Sam had done a lot of work trying to compartmentalize his feelings for Bucky. It was complicated enough being the Black Captain America, and it was complicated being bisexual and being Black, and being the Bi, Black Captain America crushing on a recently absolved war criminal would be just, a whole different level of complicated. Especially if Bucky didn’t feel the same. 

They were wandering along, keeping their eyes out for troublemaking bigots, but also people watching and smiling at the pure joy experienced by the community as they found strength and support in each other. Sam smiled when he saw a black teenage lesbian couple holding hands, and the sight of their strength gave him some strength of his own. 

“You happy you came?” Sam asked Bucky. 

Bucky smiled, “Yeah, I am. The company is better than I expected.”

Bucky looked at Sam as he said that and Sam’s heart fluttered in his chest. He broke eye contact quickly and looked around at the surrounding crowd. 

“Yeah, it’s great to feel part of something bigger than yourself, right?” Sam asked, deflecting, not allowing him to get his hopes up. 

“Right,” Bucky said with pursed lips. 

They continued to walk along, but Sam noticed the increased distance between their bodies, but tried not to think about it. 

Near the end of the block they left the parade route and ended up at the after party location where the music was already playing, but the crowd was still thin. 

They milled around, relieved they didn’t encounter any counter-protestors, but now a little unsure of what to do next. Before either of them could say anything though, they were interrupted by an eager 20-something with a camera and a badge dangling from his neck.

“Did you two want a couple portrait?” he asked them. 

Bucky froze as Sam chuckled, “We’re good, man, thank you though.”

“Come on, it’s free and you can download the photo when you get home, maybe print it, hang it up? You guys are so cute, you’d be perfect for a candid kiss photo!” the kid babbled enthusiastically. His energy was infectious and it had both Sam and Bucky relaxed and chuckling. 

“Oh all right,” Sam said, “If you want, that is.” He turned to Bucky who was wearing a smile.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” he teased. 

The photographer readied himself and Sam gave Bucky a quick peck on the lips. 

The photographer clicked away and looked at the image, “That was a quick one, I can do another?”

Bucky wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him close. Sam looked up into his eyes and saw the longing there that he was sure was mirrored in his own. 

“Kiss me again, like you mean it,” Bucky said and it didn’t sound like a joke. 

It sounded sincere and desperate and Sam reached out to grip the base of Bucky’s neck and crash their mouths together. They were lost in each other, Sam felt that something clicked into place along with an overwhelming sense of belonging. This felt right and he was just so happy it seemed Bucky felt the same. 

When they pulled apart the photographer was smiling fondly at them. Then he handed them a ticket stub. 

“Here’s the details, you can get 1 free download, and if you want additional photos it’s by donation, plus you can leave a tip anytime” he explained, “Happy Pride!”

Bucky didn’t let Sam go as they watched the photographer find his next subjects. 

“We definitely need to tip that guy,” Bucky said.

“Google review too probably,” Sam answered. 

They laughed and pressed their bodies together. Bucky took Sam’s hand, and led him to the drink tent. 

“Let me buy you a drink,” Bucky said. 

“So this is a date then?” Sam asked. 

“I’d like it to be,” he replied. 

“Me too,” Sam said and followed Bucky to the drink tent, far more excited for the evening than he was just moments ago. 

TAGS: @autumnleaves1991-blog​

[leapyearkisses]

Nice Work If You Can Get It - (m/m) Eliseo/Padgett

So after a year of abject depression, I’ve decided I still like my writing so I’m reuploading it. For the time being, requests are not on the table. I have definitely flaked out on some people and I’m really sorry for that. :( Hopefully if people still want to read what’s already done though, this will be okay.

NSFW, MESS, CONTAGION - Eliseo has hired Padgett to get him sick.

___

"All right... close your eyes." Eliseo swallowed and did so, blocking out his bedroom, the red-gold sunset light pouring in from the windows, and Padgett, who was straddling his hips. He could still hear, quite easily, the other man's labored breathing and feel the heat of his thighs... and his crotch. Eliseo was under no illusion that he was in an incredibly compromising position at the moment. He hadn't thought much about the.. particulars when he'd first decided to strike this deal. "Are we really doing this?" he asked, voice weak.

Padgett laughed, voice tumbled and edging on hoarse. "Hey now. Not getting cold feet are we, my lord?" His exhale ghosted over Eliseo's forehead and his tousled black hair touched Eliseo's cheek. Eliseo cleared his throat. "No..." He could imagine the other man's smug look. They'd known each other long enough now that the image rose unbidden to his mind's eye. Padgett's eyes always glittered like opals when he was scheming something. The man surprised him with a tender touch on the shoulder, and Eliseo almost opened his eyes again. "The safe word is 'pumpernickel,'" Padgett said, managing not to chuckle. "We can stop whenever you want... Hhk-" He fought off a gasp. "Decide hh quickly, though." Eliseo shivered. "I'm okay. Let's do it." He didn't want to admit it, but Padgett's reassurance did put him at ease, even if this had been his idea to begin with. He relaxed and tried to lose himself in the late afternoon heat. "Yehh-s, my lord." Padgett leaned forward and took a shaky breath. It stuttered and caught on invisible hooks, sounding at once to be full of potential and then gone again, like a ghost vanishing at the window. Eliseo could feel his body tightening again with anticipation, especially when Padgett gasped and leaned back. "Hh-... hah-- "Huh-ktschht!" A warm rush of air burst in Eliseo's face, almost immediately followed by a watery spray over his forehead, closed eyes, and nose. His instant reaction was to curl back, or try to, and he had his hands braced on Padgett's chest before he could think about it. "Hey now," said Padgett, delayed by a sniffle. His tone was light. "Easy. You specified this in the contract, remember?" He rested his hands lightly on Eliseo's wrists. "How are you feeling about it?" Eliseo found he was holding his breath, but-- Well, that would defeat the purpose of this exercise. He cautiously let it go and then opened his eyes. Padgett was gazing down at him, looking neither smug nor concerned, just curious. "I- this was on instinct," Eliseo murmured. After a beat, he lowered his hands, and Padgett let him go easily. "Yes, I imagine so. It's natural." Padgett smiled then, and then his expression crinkled. "Wh- hh- want to do it again? Hkt-- hhh..." Eliseo forced himself to surrender again to his pillows. "Yes." Again, he closed his eyes. Padgett shifted forward on his lap and oh- but then he was sneezing once more. "Huh- hktsschit!" Again, the spray. This time it dusted over Eliseo's nose and mouth. He fought to keep from thinning his lips and... took a deeper breath. Padgett hadn't moved, was still fighting with his own lungs, reeling in another insistent sneeze like a stubborn trout. "Huh- hh... hh hh huh-" He made an annoyed sound. "Hah-- hah-krttschtts!" Eliseo felt droplets of saliva decorate his cheekbone. Padgett sniffled thickly. "...Bless you," Eliseo murmured. He was feeling hot. Maybe it was Padgett on top of him. The man was running a fever. "You are... doing the job admirably." That earned him a laugh. Padgett shifted his weight to his heels, which did interesting things to his cock's relation to Eliseo's own. "Thanks, I guess? I never would have thought anyone would be hiring for this, much less you." "Circumstances are dire," Eliseo intoned without a hint of irony. "Mmhm." Padgett sniffled again. "You must really hate weddings. Couldn't you have just gone on a hunt or something this weekend instead?" Eliseo sighed. "No. My sister would do anything to ruin my plans if I tried to avoid the party any normal way. But luckily, she's terrified of germs. I think a miserable head cold will be the ticket." Like hell he wanted to sit through another of his sister's weddings. Every time it was some new, world-changing drama. He wasn't even sure whether the groom this time was noble born. No doubt the reception gossip would be scathing.  What absolute drivel. "Lucky also that you have me around, hm?" Padgett's next chuckle turned into a bit of a cough.  Eliseo patted his knee awkwardly. "I- well, yes. Very. But believe me when I say that I would not wish for you to be so stricken if I had the power to stop it." "Of course, my lord." Padgett rubbed his nose. And though his breath hitched a few times in the following moments, he stayed where he was.  Eliseo blinked. "Are we...?" Done? He didn't really think the exposure had been long enough. "I am ready." Padgett blushed a little. Blushed? "Sorry," he said. "I can kind of feel that, uh, the uh, next ones are going to be kind of... wet. I could blow my nose." His voice trailed off, wavering again. His nostrils twitched, and Eliseo did see within the promise of moisture. Perhaps it was the taboo of it, but Eliseo was alerted instantly to a sudden thickening of his cock. It pressed at his trousers with some gusto as Padgett sniffled again. Eliseo swallowed. "No. No, this is good. This will... help." Padgett gave him a considering look, at least as well as he could between soft gasps and squinting against the itch in his nose. "If you're sure, my lord." "Just- call me Eli, like you used to," said Eliseo, stumbling over the words. He wasn't sure where they had come from, but now they were bare between them. Still, perhaps a bit of affection wasn't so odd compared to what they were already doing. Eliseo closed his eyes on Padgett's startled look. "Eli," Padgett said, and he sounded like he'd just come home from a long war to find the hearth kept warm for him. "I will." He leaned forward again, bracing himself. "Now, I'm going to- to hih-- to snhhsneeze, hah- haktschtsch! Hrh- Hnkgstschhiu! More spray this time, more wetness, and Eliseo gasped himself when he felt a thick drip against his chin. Padgett hadn't moved. When Eliseo tentatively looked up, he saw his friend caught in a limbo of urgency. His green eyes were shut, eyelashes fluttering. His nostrils, gently pink now, flared. A clear trail hung from one of them, quivering as Padgett panted. He looked wild and fever bright and teetering on a precipice. Eliseo ignored what it might mean that Padgett's desperate expression, his wet nose - even the mess - suddenly went to his cock. He was hard, looking up at a portrait of a sneeze. Carefully, he placed a hand on Padgett's thigh. "It's okay," he said, words coming of their own accord. "I've got you." Padgett's fingers tightened fitfully in the sheet as he shifted his weight again. He was making soft, irritated noises. His nostrils flared and Eliseo saw another drip lying in wait on the cusp. When the urge became too much, it was like watching a wave finally crash down. Padgett's breath caught; he tensed and leaned back. Eliseo hurriedly closed his eyes again, and none too soon. "Hhhhrektschuckh!" He felt the mess streak his face, fly to spatter his mouth and nose and chin. Padgett moaned and then gasped again, chest swelling with air. "Hah- Huhrttschuh! Hshtt! Hah- hsshtt!" Again, he teetered, teasing the air with shivering gasps. Then, he abruptly folded with a crush of vowels and congestion. "Hggtschiucht!" A baptism, pondered Eliseo's brain as it detached from reality momentarily. Pinned as he was to the bed by Padgett's sex, he couldn't move when he felt himself coming just as abruptly as the sneeze. Somehow the slick wash had become a mounting sense of urgency in each of his muscles, racing from his fingertips and toes to his abdomen, where, quite unbidden, his cock had tugged all that energy into a gut-wrenching orgasm that sent the shockwaves back out with renewed vigor. Padgett whined, and Eliseo took him firmly by the shoulders and drew him in for a messy, off-putting, contagious, blindingly good kiss. "Wow," said Padgett, when they finally broke for air. "Don't ask me why," Eliseo muttered, but he refused to be made a fool of by embarrassment. "C- come here." He shifted to sit up further and put his hands on Padgett's hips. "I want-" He wanted. "This. Yes?" Before he could stop himself, he swept his tongue over Padgett's mouth, under his nose, to rest at the edge of a nostril. He tasted salt. It was not entirely pleasant, but whatever pilot was captaining his body right now didn't care. He could still feel his cock pulsing against his trousers. Padgett moaned. "It feels... odd. But, my lord, you can do what you- I mean, Eli." He was breathless for different reasons now. Eliseo laved the tender skin above Padgett's lips, then licked up his septum. When Padgett shivered, Eliseo kissed him again. Slowly, he cleaned away the mess from Padgett's face. When he was finished, neither of them knew what to say. Eliseo was hard again. Finally, Padgett laughed shyly. "I think you'll be catching your cold, Eli." Eliseo blushed and shrugged. "I should hope so. I am-" He bit his lip. "I'm not ready to stop. Will you stay the night? I'll look after you." Padgett kissed him, tenderly drawing them together. "I would like that, very much."

[goldandbluesmiles]

In Shades

Summary: Damian paints his family.

Ao3:

Part of batfam flufftober2020

Damian had an art assignment. Paint a portrait of one person in your life and use only one colour and explain why you chose that one colour.

It was an interesting assignment and Damian could not choose just one person to paint. So, he painted everyone in his immediate family. He figured he could hand in the best one.

He asked Alfred to sit down first.

For Alfred, he chose the colour grey. Dull and able to blend in, a symbol of dignity and sophistication as much as it was a symbol of loss.

Alfred had taken care of them through their losses and their fears, through their triumphs and their victories. He had stood by them as they had fought each other and had stood by them as they had held each other. Always there always reliable.

Yes, grey it was for Alfred.

"I am honoured, Master Damian," said Alfred once he showed it to him. It was the only thing he said but it still made Damian feel warm.

The second person he sat down with was his father.

For his father, he chose the colour black. It seemed a bit cliche but it fit the man. Black stood for strength and mystery, for formality and elegance, but at the same time stood for aggression and authority, for death and darkness.

This one might not end up with the rest of his assignment for it would be hard to explain to a civilian how all these characteristics could fit the airhead billionaire Brucie Wayne. But Damian could not bring himself to draw his father in false colours. He would just have to hide this one away.

Once he was done with the portrait, he looked at the harsh lines and smiled. Yes, black definitely worked.

His father must have agreed with his observations because one look at the piece and he had laughed.

"Well, you certainly got me, Kiddo. But maybe not take this to school. Though, I would like to hang it in my study instead. Would that be alright with you?"

"Yes, Father," Damian had agreed.

Father had them given him a long and tight hug, softly whispering how proud he was.

It almost made Damian cry. Almost.

Dick sat down for next, a wide smile on his face.

Damian chose to paint his brother in bright greens. Green was the colour of growth, harmony and renewal. His brother had moved non from tragedy after tragedy and always found a way to make his world right again, not only for himself but for others too. The freshness of the colour captured the man's smile in full and made him seem wiser than his years, which in Damian's opinion was exactly what his brother was.

Damian knew this one would be his favourite.

When he showed Dick, he was gushed at his talent but had been confused about the colour choice. Unlike most of their other family, Dick had never had an interest in the visual arts, opting to express himself physically as Cassandra did.

Once he explained, Dick had gotten tears in his eyes. Damian had almost become alarmed but his brother had swooped him up in a hug and held him close, much as his father had.

"Thank you, Damian,"

"You're welcome, Richard," said Damian, though he did not know what the thank you was for.

Cassandra did not sit but chose to stand instead. Damian was quite alright with that.

He painted his sister in shades of purple. Purple was the colour of royals, elegance of a certain kind, and ambition. Violet was the colour of magic and dreams.

Cassandra smiled all the way through painting, holding her pose together. This painting took the longest as Damian knew that it would e important to paint her whole body instead of just painting her face.

Once he was done, Cassandra hugged him before she even saw the painting and then hugged him again after she was it.

"Good," she whispered, "You got me,"

"I'm glad you think so," he whispered back

After Cassandra came Jason. And the only reason he had agreed was that he was stuck on bed rest.

Damian drew him in shades of red, head bent over a book. Red was the colour of anger, danger and sacrifice. It was also the colour of love and passion, the colour of a fire that burned bright and a heart that beat for others. Jason was all that and more. He rose from the ashes like a phoenix and had devoted his life to his family and city. Sacrifice after sacrifice, all in the name of love for people he thought didn't even love him. He was wrong about that of course.

"The angry brother in red, huh?" said Jason once he saw it, voice showing just a fraction of the bitterness he was feeling.

Damina instantly refuted, "No, the passionate brother, and the loving one,"

Jason looked at him in surprise.

Damian continued, "You are too sacrificing for your own good, you are passionate about what you do and you love so much that overflows out in bursts,"

For a few moments, Jason watched him with his mouth open, and then ever so slowly, a smile spread across his face.

"You know," he murmured, "I think red could be your colour too,"

"Really?"

"Really,"

Tim was surprised at being asked, and really that made Damian feel just a little guilty. He was almost an adult now and quite ashamed about how he had acted all those years ago.

For Timothy, Damian chose blues. Blue represented the open sky and ocean, depth and stability. It stood for loyalty, faith, truth and confidence.

Over the years, Damian had watched his brother grow into his abilities and become sure of himself. He was a leader, a detective and a man loyal to his cause and family. Damian was proud to have him in his life, to call him family. Even if he never admitted it out loud.

He explained the meaning of the picture in a few words, the whole interaction being awkward in a nice way, both of them feeling a bit shy about it.

"Thanks, Dames," said Tim

Damian just shrugged in response.

It was enough.

Duke was the last sibling he asked to sit down.

He chose to present Duke in pink. Pink was intuitive, pink was tender, pink was kind. It was a positive colour that inspired warmth and appreciation. All of the things he felt for the second oldest in the family. Duke had a soft way about him that drew people out of their shell. He was a leader but not an authoritative one like Father or even Timothy. Instead, his leadership consisted of inspiring and lifting others.

"Pink? Isn't that a girl's colour,"

"While you are right that pink represents feminity in today's society, it is a more recent development, I chose to focus on other meanings of the colour,"

"Yeah? And those are?" Duke asked disbelievingly, but not unkindly

Once Damian was done explaining, Duke grinned and held out a fist for him to bump. Damian complied.

"Thanks, man," said Duke, bounding out of the room as if someone had filled him with unlimited energy.

Damian watched him go with a shake of his head.

Damian contemplated whether or not he should do anyone else, and in the end, asked Stephanie to sit for him too.

He painted Stephanie orange. The colour represented friendliness and enthusiasm, competitiveness and risk. It stood for raw instinct and free spirit, lead to the person feeling warm and at home. The colour of the autumn.

Stephanie was a friendly spirit and was somehow always present. She pushed forward when knocked down and fought to make her home. Her success came from her enthusiasm and competitiveness and her willingness to risk it all.

Stephanie gave him a grin and a big kiss on the cheek when he explained the colour.

"Ew, Brown! Stop!"

"Uhuh," she cried, "Yuu love meee! Now I knooow!"

"Oh god, you are such a child,"

The last person that sat for him was Barbara Gordon.

Damian chose to paint her in browns. Brown was the colour of reliability and support, of protection and security. It stood for everything genuine, honest and sincere. It was what came to mind when he thought of Barbara. The way she was always there, a voice in everyone's ear. The way she always spoke the truth, light and clear. She was a friend, she was dependable, someone that could be trusted and relied on unconditionally.

Oddly enough, like Alfred and Father, Barbara did not need an explanation for the colour. She merely smiled and nodded.

"You have a great eye," she told him, "I really love this. Thank you, Damian,"

"No, thank you, Barbara,"

xxx

After a long night of patrol, Damian was ready to fall into bed. However, before he could do that, he realized there was an envelope sitting on his pillow. He took it out and smiled.

There was a picture of him petting his animals, most likely taken by Timothy, and it was tinted yellow. Beneath it, were words written out in yellow glitter pen.

Sunshine. Happiness. Fun. Hope. Mind. Perception. Optimism. Creativity. Freshness. positivity.

Underneath was a paragraph written in his father's neat cursive writing, though he could tell the input had probably come from a few different sources.

'Yellow represents the heat of the sun and the loveliness of a smile, it evoked hope for the future and is linked with the optimistic. Yellow showed creativity, freshness and positivity. Damian, you are almost an adult now and have grown into someone who had learned to channel your creative side, look towards the future and smile, even if it is internally. You have a beautiful mind and your artistic perception of the world takes our breath away. Always stay you, Damian,. You are bright and wonderful,'

Wiping the happy tears that were making their way down his cheeks, Damian quickly took out his phone. He pulled up the group chat and wrote a short message, knowing it would get the sentiment across.

'Thank you. I will do my best,'

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers Zero Vol. 7 Kino [Track 5]

Original title: その肖像画は星屑と散った

Source: Diabolik Lovers Zero Vol. 7 Kino [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Tomoaki Maeno

Translator’s note: I did it! I have translated every single Zero CD to English! This was one of the first series I got very invested in because I loved the plot so it feels nice to finally complete the set. uwu I did procrastinate a little on Kino because I know so little about him, but I did enjoy his story quite a bit! Definitely looking forward to playing his route in Lost Eden eventually!

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: Said Portrait was Turned to Stardust

You are looking down at the museum as it burns down.

“...I thought it was big, but looking at it from above like this, it seems tiny. That pretty starry sky has been reduced to a pile of rubble as well. ...I can no longer sense any magic energy. Seems like that fraud vanished as well.”

You frown.

“I’m taking us back down now, so hang on just a little longer, okay?”

He flies towards the ground.

*Rustle*

“Kuh...Ah!

Kino loses his balance and falls down.

*Thud*

“...Ow...I used too much of my magic...I feel pretty lame just collapsing like that though...”

You ask if he can move.

“...I can’t. A certain someone sitting on top of me is way too heavy.”

You quickly get off.

“I’m just joking. However, seems like it’ll take a while till I can get back up again. I might have pushed myself to my very limit for the first time in a while. I’m battered and bruised, but my body still feels hot...Perhaps it’s because I got so worked up, but I’m thirsty as well.”

You offer your blood.

“Are you sure it’s safe to say that? Don’t blame me if I end up sucking you dry.”

You insist you’re not scared.

“...In that case, face this way.”

*Rustle*

“Now lean closer like that so it’s easy for me to drink. ...Tell me where you want my fangs.”

You respond.

“Heeh...How very obedient. You want to have your blood sucked that badly? ...Fine by me. I won’t hold back then.”

Kino bites you.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Haah...You know, it shows not only through your expressions, but through the taste of your blood as well.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“What, you ask? The stuff that goes on inside your head. All of your thoughts are crystal clear.”

*Smooch*

“Heh. See? It has gotten sweet and sour. It’s obvious you’re sad. ...You were thinking of the ghouls, weren’t you?”

You start to explain.

“Stop. You don’t need to say any more.”

You frown.

“If you were to start crying right now...I would feel troubled. ...Say, bring your face closer?”

*Smooch*

“Have your tears dried?”

You nod.

“I see. In that case, you should lie down as well. ...Here, next to me.”

*Rustle*

“I can catch a glimpse at the night sky through the gaps in between the leaves. Although we can’t see any stars from here. ...The painted starry sky was pretty too, but it just can’t compete with the real thing. ...The living museum has been completely destroyed. Nobody will wander inside of it ever again. But...The ghouls who have passed...will never return either.”

You insist it is not his fault.

“I know. ...I won’t grieve by myself. I have you now after all. But even so...It hurts to lose someone, doesn’t it? When I was living all by myself, I never even considered that this sort of feeling exists.”

You tell Kino he has changed a lot.

“Is that so? ...Heh. You’re right.”

He moves closer.

*Rustle*

“I’ve earned someone precious to me...making me capable of feeling this way. When we get back, I will explain the situation to everyone. Then afterwards, let’s officially mourn their deaths. ...I’m sure it’ll be a modest funeral. ーー Also, there’s one thing I’d like to ask of you.”

You raise a brow.

“I will continue living to protect you and my friends. However, I’m still not quite strong enough to do that on my own so...Be sure to support me, okay? Until the day...I am capable of guiding everyone.”

You promise.

“...Heh. I guess we should return soon or Yuuri will grow worried? But...Let me stay here...For just a few minutes longer...”

ーー THE END ーー