#this was also to get back into practice of drawing wings

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 2

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, slight sexual language Wordcount: 5.9K A/C: SURPRISEE we're back!! again, be prepared for a slow burn y'all, don't expect anything big anytime soon (sorry). anyway got lots of love for chapter 1 so ty for that and being so patient with me over christmas! hope you had a good time over the holidays aand again send me your thoughts on the chapter! NOW GO READDD

-

Before London

“After you ma’am.”

Trey presses his keycard against the reader on the door, pulling it open for me. I can already feel myself regretting leaving my hair down, the spring breeze not as gentle as I’d hoped, causing my black strands to fly all over my face. Hurrying inside, Trey follows after me into the corridor. The moment he shuts the door I miss the wind, the heat inside College Park Center stifling me.

“Is it always this hot?” I ask, already fanning myself, my chunky knitted sweater a horrible choice for the temperature.

“Holy shit, no,” The guy walking in front of me groans, opening another door at the end of the corridor and letting us into another room, lined with doors. I already knew I was bound to get lost here, the identical doors and hallways making it feel like a maze. A security guy walks by us, but Trey stops him, asking about the heat.

“Yeah man, AC is broken,” the guy complains. “Should be fixed tomorrow.”

Great, and for once I thought I could get away with wearing a sweater. 

“Nothing works around here huh? Can’t wait to get out of this damn arena,” Trey says as we walk off, me following after him, my heels tapping against the floor echoing up and down the narrow hallway.

“When’s that gonna be? 2026 right?”

“Yeah,” Trey says, abruptly turning right into another almost identical hallway. 

“Someone’s gonna have to draw me a map of this place,” I laugh, already feeling the sweat dripping down my back and breathing becoming laboured in the heat. 

The man laughs, interrupted by the sound of balls bouncing off the floor faintly somewhere far away. “You’ll learn, your keycard should be coming next week.”

It was the first of what I already knew would be many times at College Park Center. Linda had sent us to come get some footage of the arena, simultaneously encouraging us to get some clips of Paige Bueckers’ first official practice. 

I knew it was my first proper test. I had made a few posts here and there already in the past week but this was the first time it was just me, Trey and his camera. No script, no guidance. It was up to us to figure it out, and watching Linda closely in the past week she didn’t seem too impressed by Trey. So it was on my shoulders, like always. Which was fine by me, I was used to it. Being the one to carry the load - work, relationships, friends, you name it.

Finally the man beside me comes to a stop, unlocking the door beside us.

”This is for the media team. The players are around that corner closer to the court.”

I step into the small room, two leather couches in the corner, a couple desks lined up, a fridge and Dallas Wings merch and posters covering the walls. The lack of windows made the room feel tighter than it was, and the slight musty smell didn’t make my first impression more favourable.

”Welcome to our office,” Trey grins, reading my uncomfortable expression.

”It’s… cozy,” I say, not believing a word that spills from my lips. Trey laughs, hand wrapping around my shoulder. I still wasn’t used to how touchy people in Dallas seemed to be, or at least Trey, but it didn’t make me cringe and tense up anymore.

”You can also work anywhere else in the building,” he comforts me and I sigh in relief.

“Oh thank heavens,” I chuckle, pulling the knitted sweater off, leaving me in low waisted, white, flowy pants resting on my hips, and a silky leopard print top, with thin straps holding it up. If I was dressed this way for my previous job in London I surely would’ve been fired, but what I had found out in the past week was no one at the Wings cared to dress corporate, most younger workers dressing in sneakers and hoodies. I notice Trey watching me for a while, his gaze quickly averting when I catch his eye.

“Well,” I say sitting down on the desk, “Shall we throw some ideas around?”

-

It felt good to be back on the court. After my last season at Uconn I felt ready, focused, like I was on fire. What felt even better was Koclanes had made sure to make it clear for everyone - I’m a point guard, no reason I shouldn’t be running offense instead of the nonsense Geno had me doing last season. 

Honestly, it was such a relief I had to fight back tears hearing it. All season I had fought to do what Geno wanted me to, I wanted to be the perfect player, to make him proud. I think in the end I had done so, but God it would’ve been so much easier if I just got to run the ball. 

“P!” I hear Arike’s voice from behind me, somewhere on the left. Trying a no-look pass, I let the ball fly. Turning around I realise she's nowhere near where I thought she was. We had a lot of work to do, I knew this. But I missed my girls. I knew them better than anyone, knowing where they were each moment of the game, where I could easily find them. Now I had to start from scratch once again.

“My bad,” I laugh, wiping sweat off my forehead. Of course the AC had broken down the day of my first official practice in this hellhole. Instead of cancelling, we all agreed to take lots of breaks and we had all undressed to our sports bras and shorts. Still, the sweat is dripping down my neck and back, and my chest heaves fiercely.

“Paige, Arike, Tea, take a break before you get a heatstroke,” Chris yells from the sidelines. Gratefully, I jog to the seats and sit down, chugging water, Arike sitting right next to me. We both knew it would take a while for us to build that chemistry the team needed us to have. Thankfully, I really liked her already. Could’ve been worse I guess.

“P,” Arike mumbles breathlessly, elbowing me. 

“Get your sweaty ass off me,” I jokingly complain, making the girl snicker to herself.

“Just look behind us,” Arike groans, nodding her head backwards. Turning my gaze, I nearly fall off my seat. About ten rows behind us, Zari is sitting cross-legged, her hair down not in the neat, tidy way as usual but unruly, soft waves falling over her shoulders. The curves of her breasts are visible all the way from here, left strand of the slinky top falling off her shoulder, forehead glistening with sweat. Even so, she makes me feel breathless.

It had been nearly a week since I last saw her, and I had spent that entire time convincing myself I was delusional - there was no way anyone could be as beautiful as I remembered her to be. Now watching her whispering with Trey, I realised it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. Clearing my throat I turn back, shrugging, acting like it made no difference to me. I didn’t need the other girls to clock how much I’d been thinking about Zari. Which had been more that I’d like to admit.

“It’s your girlllll,” Arike giggles, finger poking my shoulder.

“Alright, enough,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. Before I can stop her, Rike is waving them over.

“Bro,” I scoff in a whispered voice, quickly rubbing the soft towel against my skin, wiping as much sweat off as I can. Great, here comes this perfect, poised, classy girl and I’m here sweating like a sinner in church, red in the face, half naked, hair falling out of my bun. 

“Whatchu guys doing here this early?” Arike asks as Trey and Zari come up to the row of seats behind us. I’m still wiping the towel against my neck, giving an awkward smile to the pair.

“We’re here to play, clearly. Can you not tell by my fit?” Zari asks, her gravelly voice smooth like butter in my ears. My eyes roam her body, watching the way her midriff is exposed from how low waisted her pants are, her stomach slightly soft, light brown skin peeking out. Eyes travelling upwards my eyes take in her chest, and my mouth goes dry. 

Arike kicks my ankle, and I realise everyone’s noticed my staring - no, my ogling. Face going bright red I rub my jaw, looking for any save. At least say something Paige.

“You look… nice,” I murmur, making Arike cover her mouth to hide her chuckling. 

But instead of calling it out or embarrassing me more, Izara merely smiles and quickly brushes her fingers through the long, black ends of her hair.

“Thank you Paige.”

Paige. Paige. Suddenly, for a fleeting moment my name becomes my favourite word, the way it sounds from her lips making my heart race. 

“Haven’t seen you around the building, neighbour,” she grins, her hand reaching to squeeze my shoulder. It’s sweaty. I know when she quickly pulls away.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty as hell,” I chuckle awkwardly.

She scoffs, easily waving it off with her hand. “Isn’t that your job anyway?”

I smile sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck, hoping she might notice the flex of my arm. God what was I doing? She was probably straight anyway. And I had promised to stay celibate. Besides I don’t think she likes me anyway, even as a friend. Are we even friends? Probably not, we’d talked like one time. I’d like to be her friend though, I think. Wait, everyone’s quiet. Fuck, what did she say.

“Uh, yeah?” I mumble, not sure what to say.

“It was a hypothetical question darling,” she giggles. “Does anyone have a towel please? I feel like I’m sweating too.”

Immediately I hand her the one on my shoulder, drenched with my sweat.

“Paige I’m pretty sure she wants a clean one,” Arike says, grabbing a fresh towel from underneath the bench. 

“Oh right,” I murmur, laughing at myself. To my delight, the black haired girl laughs too.

“I mean I could get some good money selling that,” she chuckles, wiping the towel against her glistening neck.

“Yeah, her fans are something else,” Trey adds, and suddenly I’m reminded that he’s there too, my focus all on the girl standing behind me.

“Speaking of your fans, can we get you in for a clip later? Only for a moment, I promise,” Zari pleads, batting her eyes at me. There’s no universe in which I could say no.

“Sure, whatever you need.”

-

“I must tell you Izara, Jasper came over today. Brought back some of your things. He’s such a considerate young man, he had packed everything so nicely. Not a single plate was broken. Now I know I know, not that hard but men are a bit dim sometimes. I can’t even tell you how many plates your father would’ve broken if I ever let him pack any-”

“Muuuum,” I groan, her rambling about my ex-fiancee making my heartrate pick up quickly. I turn the phone away to roll my eyes out of sight from my mother on facetime.

“Anyways, he came over and Izara. That man looked so poorly, like he hadn't slept or eaten. I just feel so bad, he’s really upset Izara.”

“Mum,” I try to stop her but as always, she barely hears me.

“I just don’t understand why you ended things. He’s a good man. Good men are so hard to find Izara,” my mom preaches, the same words that I’d heard nearly daily since I informed my parents about our breakup. My brother had been more supportive, he’d never liked Jasper. At least there was someone in my family who saw him for what he really was from the get go.

“Mum, if we keep talking about this I’m going to end the call, please. I already told you that I don’t want to talk about it,” I finally assert myself, hearing my mother let out a frustrated huff.

“Fine. Fine! You do need to tell me one day though, because I don’t understand any of this nonsense of-”

Taking a deep breath I close my eyes, trying to swallow my frustration. I can’t. “Mum, I’m really tired. I’ll call you back tomorrow after work, okay. I gotta edit some posts anyway.”

With that I hang up, throwing my phone on the bed as I sit on the bedroom floor. Running my fingertips through my hair I lie down. Just for a moment. Then I’ll get back to work.

Chewing on my cheek I fight the tears threatening to spill over. I didn’t want to cry. No, I refused to. I just wish I could get my parents to shut up about it. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, of Jasper, of the hell I went through the past year.

As I take deep breaths to calm myself down, suddenly I notice a faint bitter, acrid smell. Abruptly getting up I search my apartment for something burning, checking everything I could think of until I realise it’s coming from the stairway. Putting on a pair of slippers and grabbing my keys I slip outside, walking around to find the source of the smell - until I end up behind Paige’s door.

Without thinking about it further, my hand firmly knocks three times on the door, other hand subconsciously brushing through my hair to flatten it, hoping I looked at least presentable. 

I found the blonde interesting. Whenever I observed her, she seemed to have this insane confidence, this incredible skill to put people at ease, to get them to like her. It would’ve been so easy for Paige Bueckers to be just another entitled basketball star. However, she was anything but that. Yet, around me, she seemed to tense up for whatever reason. I had a feeling she didn’t like me at all.

When the door opens, Paige is standing there looking discombobulated, eyes widening further when she sees it’s me on her doorstep. The blonde is holding her nose, still just in a sports bra and grey sweats hanging low on her hips, boxers showing just the tiniest bit reminding me of how a teenage boy might dress. And I might’ve poked fun at it but something about it suited her, made her even more charming.

“Zari! Uh, hey,” she murmurs, holding her nose.

“Is that smell coming from yours?” I ask, the scent getting even stronger now. “I can smell it all the way in my apartment.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” she groans, cheeks turning a shade of pink. “I didn’t know microwave meals can burn.”

“Evidently,” I chuckle, glancing over Paige’s broad shoulders into the apartment. It was the same as mine, though looked to be bigger. The same white walls, cold and sleek and modern. Suddenly I hear her stomach rumbling, making Paige bring her hand to the bare skin there and letting out an awkward chuckle.

“Sorry,” she murmurs but I shake my head.

“You’ve got to stop apologising so much love,” I could feel all the nurturing bones in my body beginning to take over, as this poor, hungry, younger girl stands in front of me, in an apartment smelling like smoke. “Did you open all the windows?”

“Oh right, I should prolly do that,” Paige murmurs, looking back into the apartment, stomach rumbling again. I couldn’t help it, I felt pity towards the girl.

“I was just about to make dinner actually, do you want to come downstairs while you let your place air out?” I ask, inviting Paige over. 

“Uh…” she mumbles and I can feel my stomach twisting in anxiety. Why would I be anxious? So what if she says no? I really didn’t want her to though for some reason, maybe I just needed a friend that bad. 

“Ion wanna bother you if you got something to do,” Paige says, swinging back and forth on her feet. 

“You’re not! I’m offering,” I insist. 

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“Aight. Thank you.”

With that Paige grabs a navy Uconn hoodie, her keys and phone before we make our way down, her blue eyes watching me unlock my door. She steps into my apartment, looking around. Not that there was much to look at yet, the walls were blank and the basic furniture was sitting where it had been placed for me. 

“I haven’t really decorated yet,” I murmur, following the blonde girl in.

“I can see that,” she chuckles, blue eyes roaming the space. I watch as she takes steps further, and can’t help but grimace at her shoes.

“Sorry, but could you take your shoes off please?” I ask carefully.

“Yes ma’am,” Paige obeys without thinking, kicking her sneakers off and placing them neatly next to the wall. The way she bends to my will quickly, so eager to please, makes my face burn up for some reason.

“So you’re hungry?” I ask, walking into the kitchen with the blonde following close behind.

“I’m starving, but you don’t need to be cookin’ for me, we could just order a lil something? Or go out?” She suggests, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

I wave her off, grabbing my big chalkboard which had every meal planned in advance, a column for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“No no no, I like to cook. Especially for other people, so really, you’re doing me a favour,” I insist, feeling her come up from behind me to peek over my shoulder at the board. My skin tingles as the heat of her body radiates off of her, the pounding of my heart not letting up. Must be the Dallas heat making me all loopy.

“You weren’t joking about being a planner huh?” She chuckles, her finger scanning over the text as she reads. 

“I just like to be organised. I don’t see any harm in being prepared.”

For a moment she stands close behind me, reading. I can feel her breath on my bare shoulder, goosebumps spreading down my arm.

“Damn, you can cook all this stuff?” Paige asks, clearly impressed. 

“Well, yes. I like to cook,” I chuckle, putting the board down and turning to the girl behind me. “I could teach you, if you’d like?”

“Who says Ion know how to cook,” she scoffs, our eyes locked in each other’s gaze. I realise this must be the longest she’s held eye contact with me yet. Not used to it, I look to the floor and shrug.

“The burnt smell coming from your apartment does,” I tease, opening the fridge next to the girl, everything neatly organised. “Now, what would you like to eat Paige?”

-

“Like this?”

“Oh, well, almost. Let me show you darling.”

Suddenly her hands are on mine, guiding the knife through the vegetables as she stands next to me. 

“See, you don’t need to lift the knife, keep the tip on the board, got it?”

Honestly I barely take any of it in, my heart beating so loudly I was sure Zari could hear it. My skin tingles as her shoulder presses against my arm, my eyes locked on how our hands look together. Her brown skin makes mine look paler, the long nails on her slender fingers making mine look stronger, more masculine. To my dismay, Zari’s hand lifts off mine and she steps back as if suddenly aware of our closeness.

”Now why don’t you try for me?”

For her? I didn’t know her well at all, but everything about her had me wanting to do anything for her. 

So I do as she says, doing my best to follow her advice, my brows furrowing in concentration. I watch as the knife cuts the pepper into pieces, uneven in size. I wasn’t very good at this cooking thing, I should probably consider getting a personal chef. Maybe I could hire Zari and have her cooking for me in a maid dress, or in lingerie. Okay no, I gotta focus.

”There you go, good job Paige,” Zari murmurs, watching closely, her hand coming up to rub my shoulder. ”You’re doing so good.”

I swallow, my throat bobbing. It’s almost embarrassing, the heat between my thighs when I hear her say those words, her praise making my mind spin, her touch leaving fire in its wake. God, I need to get a grip.

”Uh, do I add them to the salad?” I ask flustered.

”Yes! Let me check on the chicken,” Zari smiles, taking the food out of the oven. The smell is making my mouth water, why doesn’t chicken ever smell like that.

”Yo that smells so good,” I groan. ”What spices did you use?”

”A lot,” the girl laughs. ”I can write down the recipe for you?”

”O-okay,” I mumble. The time spent together had only turned me more tense, I was just hoping she couldn’t see it.

”Go into the living room love, I’ll make your plate. Would you like some wine?”

Before I can think, a yes slips through my lips, too discombobulated by the nickname. I didn’t even like wine. 

Cussing to myself in my head, I walk into the living room, eyes roaming the identical furniture to mine. Except hers was neater, and the only decorations in the room a vase of white lilies on the coffee table and a colourful chart hung on the wall. Looking closer I realise it’s a fully colour-coded schedule, every minute planned in advance. Jesus this girl was wound up tight.

I plant myself on the couch, Izara soon bringing me a plate of quite possibly the most delicious looking chicken salad I’d ever seen and a glass of white wine. The dark haired girl sits in a black leather chair facing me.

“Oh my God,” I groan, my mouth full of food. It was delicious. Zari laughs, lifting her glass.

“Cheers.”

”Cheers,” I smile, grabbing the glass, trying to hide the scrunch in my face as I sip the white wine, the bitter taste filling my mouth.

Zari lets out a soft laugh, noticing my expression. ”You don’t like it?”

I shake my head, my eyes still closed. ”I hate wine,”

”Why didn’t you say something Paige? You don’t have to drink it, poor girl.”

I laugh at myself, placing the glass on the coffee table. 

”I dunno man,” I rub the bridge of my nose. 

There’s a moment of both of us chuckling filling the room till it goes quiet again. I recognise a sliver of unsureness on the other girl’s face, something I’d never seen before.

”Can I ask you something?” She asks, voice softer than I’m used to. I nod.

”Did it upset you when I didn’t recognise you that first time I saw you?”

Her bluntness shocks me. I put my fork down, shaking my head. ”No, not at all,” I reply. 

She thinks for a while, putting the plate down on her lap and watching the floor. ”I’m just getting a sort of feeling that you don’t really like me much.”

I’m shocked, confused. Our eyes meet for a moment but surprisingly, she looks away. The way she says it seems lighthearted, casual, like we’re talking about the weather or something.

”Huh? No, not at all Zari,” I say urgently, chasing for her gaze. She meets my eyes, shrugging. From the outside she didn’t seem bothered at all by the possibility of me hating her, if it wasn’t for the way she was fiddling with her golden necklace.

”I don’t quite know how to explain it. You just seem a little uncomfortable around me.”

Okay. Apparently I hadn’t been as slick as I thought. In the midst of trying to hide the little innocent crush I had, I’d come off so cold and withdrawn now Zari thought I didn’t like her. Great.

I sigh, feeling a heat rise to my face. ”Shit Zari, I’m sorry,” I say, knowing there was no other way of explaining my behaviour.

”I’mma be honest, and don’t take this the wrong way. But you’re pretty intimidating.”

She thinks for a while, taking a bite of her food and swallowing before speaking again.

“How come?” Zari asks, tilting her head.

“You seem like a woman who knows her shit, and you got this mad confidence too,” I admit, picking at my cuticles. “You’re also really pretty. So yeah. Intimidating.”

I swear, for a fleeting moment, her face flushes red - but only for a second. Then she laughs and nods.

“Huh, I must work on that,” Zari says more so to herself. I shake my head.

“Nah I like that, but honestly I just feel stupid as hell around you.”

“Well you are American,” she says seriously, but the twinkle in her eye tells me she’s teasing. 

“Alright now, best country in the world,” I grin, making both of us burst into laughter. Zari sips her wine, shaking her head.

“Just to be clear Paige, I do not think you’re stupid,” she hums, meeting my gaze. A look on her face that tells me she’s being genuine.

“Okay, my turn to ask a question then,” I say, leaning back on the couch. Zari crosses her legs in her chair, intrigued.

“Are we playing 21 questions?” She asks, teasing again. “Pretty sure the last time I played this was in uni with this guy who was trying to shag me.”

It’s a tempting idea, but I shake my head swiftly. “Nah, just wanna get to know you.”

“Well go ahead.”

“You’re from London right? What in the hell got you to move to Dallas, Texas out of all the places in the world.”

Zari thinks for a while, looking up at the ceiling and shifting on her chair to get more comfortable.

“I used to work summers at this pub in Leicester Square, All Bar One. It’s horrific, super touristy and the pay wasn’t great,” the girl starts. “And there was this older man who came to London the same week every summer I worked there. He was from Dallas and told me all these stories about it being the greatest city in the world.”

“And you believed him?” I ask amused.

The girl laughs. “No, absolutely not. But then I was uh… well let’s just say going through some stuff and saw a job offer in Dallas and thought of him and took it as a sign I suppose. Not that I believe in signs but.”

I don’t pry, but I do notice the way her right hand squeezes into a fist as she talks, telling me she was really affected by whatever she was talking about.

“My turn,” she says to change the subject. “You miss Uconn?”

Easy question. “Like crazy,” I start. “‘M not used to living alone.”

“The silence right before you go to sleep is the worst,” Zari says, like reading my mind.

“Exactly,” I reply. Our eyes meet for a moment, in a silent exchange. We might be really different, but she gets me. “Miss having friends.”

“Aren’t we friends?” The girl asks, her eyes studying me.

“Are we?”

“I think we are,” she hums. “Or could be, if you’d like. It’s not that I’ve got friends here either.”

I think for a moment, looking at the empty plate on my lap. Friends. That’s all I could want.

“I’d like that Zari,” I murmur. A silence falls over us, now more comfortable than before. 

“Sooo, why haven’t you decorated?” I ask. Zari chuckles and shrugs, looking around the living room.

“I only have a visa for a season. Seems like a waste to start turning this place into a home,” the girl explains.

I furrow my brows, studying her face. “What’s the point of coming here then? If you’re not tryna make it home?” I ask, and my words hit me just as hard as they do Zari. The past couple weeks I had spent moping around, feeling sorry for myself, refusing to move forward. Maybe it was time to accept that this is my home, that maybe I should be trying a little harder to make it so.

“I mean I got some shelves but I realised I don’t have a drill so I can’t put them up,” she says, pointing to the wooden boards leaning against the wall in the corner.

“I got a drill.”

She turns to me, surprised. “You do?”

I nod, feeling proud that I might just get to save her once more. “Yeah, my dad got me a tool set when I moved.”

“Smart man, do you know how to use it though?” Zari questions, making me scoff.

“Of course I do,” I say offended, though I hadn’t used it more than once before. Finally I get up from the couch, grabbing the girl’s empty plate from her. She begins to stand up too.

“Nah, you sit Zari, I’mma put the dishes away and go get that drill, aight?” I say. She looks up at me, eyes wide, surprised, studying my face. Like she wasn’t used to this. Eventually she nods, her mouth stretching into a smile. She’s pleased, I could tell. It made me wanna do more. “I’ll get you another glass of wine too.”

It’s her turn to go speechless, as she hands me the empty glass. I can still feel her eyes on me as I walk out of the room.

-

“Are you sure I can’t help?”

“I got it, sit down.”

“But, are you sure you can keep it str-”

“Zari, please sit down and drink your wine. I got it.”

Letting out a frustrated huff, I plop myself onto the soft couch, resting against the cushions. My eyes are locked on the blonde, her veiny hand wrapped around the drill, the muscles of her back flexing from the strain of holding the shelf up.  

I huff again, sipping on the wine and crossing my legs. I felt useless just watching her like this. I was so used to doing everything for myself, letting someone else work for me felt entirely backwards. Still, a part of me was enjoying being taken care of this way.

Done with the shelves, Paige takes a step back to admire her work. “Uhh, I don’t think it’s straight.”

“What?!” I ask, sitting up to see better.

She turns to me, a big grin on her face. “Kidding.”

I throw a pillow at the blonde, laughing too.

“You’re not very good at that huh?” She asks, dodging.

“At what?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“At relaxing,” the blonde says, taking a sip of a can of Coke. She’s got a point so I don’t argue. I was wired that way, being tense was part of me, a tightness in my shoulders constantly a reminder of my brain working overtime.

“I’m not the relaxing type,” I answer, standing up to look at the shelves on the wall. I gasp noticing she’s done well, even to my standards. It wasn’t lopsided at all.

“Did I do a good job?” Paige asks as I walk to stand next to her, finishing the last sip of wine.

“Mhm,” I nod, noticing a tingle running up my arm as our hands brush together for a fleeting second. Strange, must be the wine. “You did good, thank you Paige. I owe you.”

The blonde scoffs, leaning close enough for our arms to press against one another. I smell a hint of her shampoo, fruity, apple maybe? Either way, it must have been the closest I had been to a person since me and Jasper called it off.

“You made me dinner, you don’t owe me nothing,” she chuckles. I feel her eyes on me, seeing the way her face is turned to me in my peripheral vision. I could feel my chest heaving, not quite sure why.

Paige points to the colour coded schedule on the wall. I knew it seemed excessive, neurotic even. But it was the only way I got everything done. My life wasn’t easy, far from it. I had always been one to plan, but ever since my break up structure seemed like the only thing keeping my life from falling apart.

“You follow that forreal?” Paige asks, walking closer to the schedule to read through it. 

“What’s the point of having it if I don’t,” I point out, watching as her blue eyes roam the different colours. Shaking her head, she turns to me.

“You ever take a break?”

I chuckle, leaning in to point out the yellow text on the paper. “Yes, I got it scheduled in.”

“It says you should be working right now,” Paige says.

I nod. “I know.” I knew it by heart.

Paige’s blue eyes land on my face for a moment, studying me. I could feel the wine making my cheeks heat up, so I look away, back to the shelves the blonde had put up for me. The idea made my heart flutter, someone doing something like that just for me. Without expecting anything in return.

“Well,” the taller girl grabs her toolkit. “I should prolly head out and let you work.”

I feel a slight disappointment deep in my gut, hoping she would stay a little longer. After all, she was the only friend I had. But I knew what the schedule said. 

Thursday 7:00PM-9:30PM work

So I nod, following the girl to the front door, watching her put her shoes on.

“Thanks for dinner,” the blonde smirks, lids heavy as she looks down at me. My skin burns, I must have forgotten to turn the AC up after work.

“Thank you for the drilling,” I say which makes Paige let out a loud laugh. Realising what I said, I cover my face with my hand, joining her. “I mean, for the shelf.”

“Right,” Paige grins, wiping her lower lip with her thumb. “You ever need help relaxing, I’m right upstairs.”

Her voice is hoarse, deeper than usual. For a moment I think she’s flirting with me, trying to imply something entirely different than one might think at first. But I quickly shake the idea off. That wine really went to my head.

“I’ll see you Paige,” I murmur, watching her go, closing the door behind her.

I stand there for a moment, still a hint of her shampoo in the air. Turning left I eye the kitchen, everything perfectly in place just how I liked it. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had cleaned for me. Jasper always claimed my standards were too high, that it was impossible for a person to fulfill my requirements. But looking at my kitchen now I had no complaints. Maybe there really were people out there that wouldn’t always disappoint me. Maybe Paige was one of them.

My eyes land on the hoodie draped over the back of a chair, navy blue and too large to be mine. I pick it up, looking at the Husky decorating the front, and I know I’m either mad or much more wine drunk than I realised when I lean in and press my nose against it, inhaling the scent, a mix of skin and deodorant and sandalwood. Returning back to my senses, I quickly pull away and neatly fold it, urgently hiding it in my wardrobe and closing the doors. 

“Jesus Izara,” I mumble to myself, making my way to my desk to work, the faint scent of sandalwood still apparent in the air around me.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter@thaatdigitaldiary@sierrale8ne@lupinqs@lovegalor333@d3arapril@avvwritesstufff@rosemariiaa@bueckers22@taylynbueckers44@unadulteratedcyclepaper@rizzlerbuckets@bueckersfive@wosolipa@bridgetloveswomen@paiges-1vur@slut4uconnwbb@xxloveralways14@bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[imma-bunni]

Some Snow Hound sketches from the Yin Yang Masters: Dream of Eternity

I have so much love and feelings for Snow Hound and all of the blame (ie: thanks) goes to MountainRose on ao3. I am so incredibly fond of every single piece of their writing, especially their yym fics and especially how they write and expand on all of the shishen/spirit guardians. Specifically this chapter really kick started my Snow Hound love but really it’s everything.

[peathepirate]

Part 22 - Finale

The one with criminal activities.

« PREVIOUS | BACK TO START

I can't believe this project is actually finished. I started sketching the first pages in January of 2021 (if my Instagram stories are to believe) and now I'm done? What am I even supposed to do now that I'm not drawing WINGS anymore?

It's not a perfect comic. It wasn't really meant to be a finished comic either, I was kind of messing around to see if I actually liked making longer comics. Turns out I do! I've always viewed this project as "practice", so the style is all over the place and at times, the art is really hard to look at (*cough* entire part 7 *cough*). But I finished it, all 206 pages of it! I never knew I had this much persistence in me :D

Things I wish I'd known before starting the comic: 1) Having a script will save you from many plot holes and plot threads that never lead anywhere (and it also gives you opportunities to do fun foreshadowing <- this is something I couldn't do for a Thing I came up with and had to drop because I'd already posted the first updates before writing the script). 2) Drawing in batches actually saves time, people aren't joking when they say that. It always takes time to get used to inking after sketching, or coloring after inking, etc. And when I say batches, I don't mean ten pages at a time, I mean like 40-50 pages at a time. I wish I'd realized this before the last 40 pages of this comic...

Thank you so, so much for each and every one of you who have been on this journey with me. It really has meant the world to me to have people I could share this story with. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed making it <3

[der-schweizer]

This is a little idea about the post of @proneterror204 make sure to hit them up for the og post.

Danny was somewhere between bored, tired (which he almost always was) and generally not okay. How his parents had managed to draw the attention of Wayne Enterprise and get invited to a Gala that Bruce Wayne himself was hosting, was beyond him.

Granted he hadn't even known about it until about three days ago. Honestly he should be used to getting utterly blindsided by his parents ‘Come on, Danny. We are going to drive for the next three days. It's going to be fun’-type of surprises.

They had just left him enough time to lock down the portal, something his dad should have done, grab his suit that Vlad had gifted him. (As much as he dislikes the Froot Loop, Danny wasn’t stupid enough to throw out a multi-thousand Dollar suit.) And then they were off.

He managed to sneak in a few texts to Sam and Tucker on the ride. So now he was here, halfway bored out of his head. He had already been talked to multiple times, and each time got mistaken for one of the Wayne kids.

Danny could see it honestly. Blue eyes, Black hair, decent build body and an air of exhaustion that hung around most of them like a cloak. It was probably the reason why they kept coming to him. Thankfully he managed to shake them off rather quickly.

He had finally found a quiet corner where he could lurk and eat some of the finger food that was laid out on the buffet. Going for thirds was tempting as everything was very tasty but sadly not very filling.

“Man, I could go for a burger.”

A snort came from next to him, which nearly startled him. The girl that had been in the corner before was putting a hand over her mouth in clear embarrassment.

“Uhm. Hi?” Danny gave an awkward wave, not knowing how he should talk to her. In turn she said a quiet “Hello” whilst also signing it. Danny of course immediately picked up on it.

“Sorry to ask but are you…” he gestured towards his ears, signing himself in case she was deaf. The girl looked at him with surprise before smiling softly. “No, I don't like talking.”

“Ah, perfectly understandable. I do know ASL, one of my friends is almost deaf but she got those fancy implants that let her hear everything.”

In lieu of the answer all he got was an “Mhh.” He went quiet after, having no fucking idea what to talk about. Danny quietly wondered what the fuck he could even talk about, the weather? Either rain or fog. The city? Rockbottom in every poll except for crime. Thinking about it gave him an idea.

“Say, who is your favorite Vigilante?”

The question got her attention, making her think for a moment before quietly saying. “Like Wing. Yours?” Danny mused for a second, humming loudly.

“Hmm, I think it's Orphan. I mean, have you seen her move? Just pure grace and elegance. I bet she is an immortal Vampire that simply got bored and decided to fight crime.”

He didn’t see how she blushed, “No.”

Danny just scoffed, “Are you kidding me? She moves with far too much elegance and grace to be mortal. Credit to the other bats but they move like mortals. She dances around both rogues and vigilantes!”

She turned away for a moment, trying to hide that she was blushing but it didn't really work. “Orphan. Is. good. What about others?”

“Oh, hmm.” Danny looked up whilst tapping a finger against his chin. “Well there’s Red Hood and Stabby Robin. Both are top tier, which should be a no brainer.”

She tilted her head in thought. “Why?”

“Well. Stabby robin practices the art of the sword, a forgotten art in modern times. And Red Hood shoots pedophiles! Who doesn't like that?” Danny set his empty plate aside, looking around for a waiter with drinks.

Her answer drew his full attention back to her. “Batman.”

Danny scoffed at the name. “Yeah, of course he doesn't like that. I mean have you looked at the costume of the very first Robin? Doesn't take much imagination why he dislikes Hood offing pedos.”

A crackle in her ear drew Cass’s attention away from him. “Red Robin here, Lantern and Superman are moving in to arrest his parents. Can you keep him distracted for a while longer?”

“Mmm. You still want burger?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah? Do you know a good place?” The question itself caught him absolutely off guard.

“Yes, take me out?” She tilted her head, giving him a cute look. Danny just shrugged, “Sure, my parents are going to take hours to explain everything anyway and they keep getting sidetracked whilst doing so. I fully expect to still be here tomorrow. Might as well spend the time with a cute girl.”

She blushed visibly, then stuck out her hand. “Cass, we date now.” He grabbed her hand, flushing a bit as well. “I’m Danny.”

“No, not Danny. You boyfriend.” She hooked her arm with his and pulled him along. Danny quickly went along with it, not saying no to it.

In Cass’s ear Red Robin spoke again. “Uh Cass? That wasn't the plan. You don't have to date him. Cass? Please don't make me explain this to B.” A click was heard as another com went to the same line. Batman growled out a simple. “Follow. Them.” before it went off.

Cassandra just put a bit more pep into her step as she pulled her new boyfriend towards her personal favorite Bat burger.

Nightwing clicked his comm on, “Found them. They are in the parking lot at main and fifth street.”

He spent a moment taking a picture of them. It showed them sitting on a concert divider, with Danny pointing up with his left whilst holding a half eaten burger in his right. Cass was sitting next to him,a bunch of fries sticking out of her mouth whilst she was grabbing a bunch more. She is also starring right at the camera. Her look perfectly said ‘if you ruin this date, i will end you’.

Batman's voice echoed in his ear, “Keep your eyes on Danny. He might have the same ideology as his parents. Oa and the lanterns are already moving in on the Ghostly Investigation Ward. We might have to take him into custody if things turn bad.”

Dick was just about to answer when Cass abruptly stood up, dranging Danny up and then away.

“Hold on, they just started moving again.” Nightwing got up from his perch and followed them quickly.

Tim worked on cutting through the strange rope, “Okay. Just to make sure I got everything right. Danny and Cass went to Batburger and had some takeout, then went for a walk in the park whilst you followed them, right?”

Dick who was trying not to wiggle, nodded. "Yeah."

“Then some weird ass shadow creature jumped you, tied you up and hung you from this tree, right?”

“You are forgetting the part where I described it as a lady from the eighteen sixties, and the part where she said to leave ‘the king of kings’ in peace. Other than that you got it spot on.”

“You know, I would make fun of you for that but considering that there is no knot in this rope and its tough as hell I will believe you.”

“Great. Do we know where they went after I lost them?”

Tim looked him right in the eyes. “Steph found them, and considering how red she was when she came back, it's best to wait until morning.”

Dick opened his mouth to ask why before it clicked in his head. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Danny woke up groggy, his eyes were crusted over and his limbs felt heavy. For a moment he just laid there, then did a full body stretch, stretching from toes to fingertips.

After it he laid there for a moment listening to noises in the room. He could hear cars and their horns. Some shouting down the hall and the shower in the bathroom.

That prompted the memories of last night which caused the ‘i got laid’ grin. He let out a satisfied noise, before crossing his arms behind his head.

After a moment Danny wondered if Cass would be up to ‘share’ the shower only for him to freeze at the sight of the Batman in the room.

“Uuuhhh.”

“Daniel James Fenton.” Batman growled out. “You are hereby placed under investigation by the Justice League for potential violation of interdimensional rights. Your parents have already been arrested and are awaiting their trial. Do you have anything to say to that?”

[natsaffection]

OKAY SO LIKE I WAS JUS ON TIKTOK N LIKE THOSE SONG ACCS POPPED UP N IT WAS PLAYING “why’d you only call me when you’re high” i havent heard this song in a WHILE

n it jus like sparked my next greatest idea😇 SO imagine football player! nat n cheerleader!reader, they’re both insanely popular. But they’re in separate friend groups. And readers bestfriends also happens to be the one and only playboy, Tony Stark, with player Bucky Barnes in second place. And Reader had her eye on Natasha for quite a while and actually finds herself asking out Natasha one day.

BUT unbeknownst to her, Natasha had a plan in her mind. Natasha assumed Reader was like Tony and Bucky and that she was trying to get a hit on her so she decided to “play along.” then breaking reader’s heart first.

ANGSTYYYY, and a fluffy ending

-💋

Whatever it takes. | N.R

FootballPlayer!Natasha x Cheerleader!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, fingering, blowjob, Y/n smacking everyone, Break Up, Angstt

Word Count: 6,4 k

A/N: OKAYYY...I got very inspired by the song that Girl - olly murs, Also..Again a very good and creative Idea, dear Anon! Thank you for that. 🙂‍↕️

The Field buzzed with electric energy as the crowd gathered for the highly anticipated Football game. Natasha Romanoff, the star player, was at the center of attention, her presence dominating the field with an aura of confidence and undeniable skill. Her hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, her eyes focused and determined. She was a force to be reckoned with, admired and respected by both her teammates and opponents.

Natasha's journey to becoming a football player had been anything but easy. Growing up in a rough neighborhood, she found solace in sports. Her natural talent and relentless drive caught the attention of her high school coach, who took her under his wing. Despite numerous obstacles, Natasha's hard work and dedication paid off, earning her a spot on the college team and a scholarship. Her teammates became her second family, and the field her sanctuary. Over time, she learned to be wary of those who wanted to get close to her for the wrong reasons and to guard her heart carefully.

On the sidelines, the cheerleading squad prepared for their routine, each member wearing their immaculate uniforms, complete with shimmering pom poms. Among them stood you, a popular cheerleader known for your vibrant spirit and radiant smile. You moved with grace and precision, each action a testament to the countless hours of practice and dedication you had put into your craft.

Your journey was different but equally challenging. You had always been passionate about dancing and cheerleading, but your parents initially disapproved, insisting you focus on school. Undeterred, you managed to excel at both, proving you could handle the demands of school and cheerleading. Your determination and positive attitude earned you the respect of your peers and a leadership position on the team.

The cheerleaders took their positions on the sidelines, ready to kick off the game with an energizing routine. You led the team with a brilliant smile, your movements perfectly synchronized with the beat of the music. The crowd responded with cheers, their excitement palpable. As the routine reached its climax, you executed a flawless backflip and landed gracefully, drawing applause from the audience.

As the game began, you found yourself glancing repeatedly at Natasha. You had always admired her athleticism and fighting spirit, but today was different. Something about the way Natasha moved, the sheer determination in her eyes, captivated your attention in a way you couldn't quite explain.

Throughout the first half of the game, your eyes followed Natasha's every move. She was in her element, effortlessly slipping past defenders. She intercepted passes, set up plays, and scored with a precision that left the crowd in awe. Each time Natasha scored or made a significant play, you felt a tingle in your chest, an inexplicable warmth spreading through you.

During a brief pause in the game, you took a moment to catch your breath. You looked over at your fellow cheerleaders, who were engrossed in their own conversations and preparations. Your best friend Kate noticed your distraction and nudged you playfully.

"Earth to Y/n! You seem a bit out of it today. Everything okay?" Kate asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. You laughed softly and shook your head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just watching the game."

Kate raised an eyebrow and glanced at the field, where Natasha was discussing strategy with her teammates. "Or watching someone in particular on the field?"

Your cheeks flushed slightly. "Is it that obvious?" Kate giggled and gave you a knowing look. "Only to those who know you well. You've had your eyes on Natasha the entire game. Do you like her?"

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. You had never really thought about it. Sure, you admired Natasha, but could it be more? The realization hit you like a ton of bricks..you had a crush on Natasha Romanoff.

"I... I think I do.." you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd. Kate grinned, her excitement evident. "Well, it's about time you realized it! I think you should talk to her after the game."

Your mind raced, your nerves tingling with excitement and fear. You nodded slowly, your gaze drifting back to Natasha. As the game resumed, you cheered louder, your movements more energetic than ever as you kept your eyes on Natasha.

When the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game, the crowd erupted in cheers. Natasha's team had won, and she was quickly surrounded by teammates and fans congratulating her on her outstanding performance. You watched from the sidelines, your heart pounding as you contemplated your next move.

"Hey, Romanoff! Looks like you have an admirer!" teased one of her teammates, nudging her towards the sidelines where you stood. "Yeah, don't let the hot cheerleader get away," added another with a grin.

"Bet she'd love to give you a private cheer.." joked another teammate, prompting a round of laughter. Natasha rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. The teasing comments from her teammates gave her the push she needed, despite her attempts to maintain a cool facade.

"Careful, Romanoff, she might be too much for you in the bedroom.." joked yet another teammate, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Nah, I'd love to know what it's like under her pom poms." and another one, eliciting another round of laughter.

Natasha's cheeks reddened slightly, but she held your gaze. She couldn't deny the magnetic pull, despite her reservations. She had seen it before, people wanting to get close to her for the wrong reasons, to bask in her glow rather than genuinely care about her.

"Guys, seriously, tone it down." Natasha said firmly, her voice cutting through their laughter. As the team headed towards the locker room, they had to pass by the cheerleaders. You saw them coming, and your courage wavered. You felt a wave of shyness as the team approached, and despite your previous determination, you couldn't find the words you wanted to say.

Natasha kept her gaze forward, the laughter of her teammates fading into the background as she passed by the cheerleaders. She briefly met your gaze, but the moment passed quickly, and she continued on her way without saying a word.

You stood there silently, frustrated with yourself for not having the courage to speak up, for missing the chance to connect with Natasha. You watched as Natasha disappeared into the locker room with her team, a mix of admiration and frustration welling up inside you.

"Come on, you can't tell me you're not interested." teased a teammate as they entered the locker room. Natasha sighed and shook her head slightly. "Just drop it now, okay?"

The days flew by, filled with classes, homework, and extracurricular activities. You found yourself constantly reminded of Natasha, whether through classmates discussing the latest soccer game or seeing Natasha in the school hallways. The memory of your brief interaction after the game lingered in your mind, making your heart race every time you thought about it.

One afternoon, you sat with Kate at your usual table in the school cafeteria. The bustling chatter of students talking and eating surrounded you, but your attention was focused on Natasha's table at the other end of the room. Natasha was deep in conversation with some of her mates, her laughter standing out above the general hum of voices.

"She really does look good.." Kate remarked, noticing your distracted gaze. You sighed, resting your chin on your hand. "Yeah.. I just can't get her out of my head. It's like everywhere I go, something or someone reminds me of her." Kate smiled understandingly. "Maybe it's a sign. You should talk to her, Y/n. You never know what might happen."

Before you could respond, the cafeteria door swung open, and Tony strolled in with his usual confident swagger. Tony was known for his charm and playboy reputation, always confident and seemingly able to get any girl he wanted. He spotted the two of you and made his way directly to your table.

"Ladies, how's it going?" Tony greeted with a grin, taking a seat in an empty chair. "Hey, Tony.." Kate responded lightly. "Y/n here is just crushing on someone."

Tony raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. "Oh? Do tell." You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed. "It's really nothing. There's just this girl I like, but I don't know how to approach her."

Tony's grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Well, you're talking to the master at getting the girl. Who's the lucky lady?"

You hesitated, casting a nervous glance towards Natasha's table. "It's... Natasha."

Tony's eyes widened briefly in surprise before a mischievous smile spread across his face. "Natasha, huh? She's a tough nut to crack, but I think you've got a chance. You just need a little push." You frowned, uncertain. "I don't know, Tony.. She's so... out of my league."

"Nonsense." Tony said dismissively. "You're great, Y/n. You just need to show her that. Come on, I'll help you out." Kate looked intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

Tony's grin turned sly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Simple. You're going to go over there and ask Natasha out." Your eyes widened in panic. "What? No way. I can't do that!"

"Yes, you can," Tony insisted, leaning forward. "Just be confident. What's the worst that could happen? She says no? No big deal. At least you'll know you tried."

You glanced at Kate, who nodded encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, you stood up, your legs feeling wobbly. Tony gave you a reassuring pat on the back. "Go get her, tiger," Tony said with a wink.

You made your way across the cafeteria to Natasha's table, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel the eyes of other students on you, adding to your nerves. As you approached Natasha's table, you cleared your throat and tried to steady your voice.

"Uh, hi.." you said, your voice trembling slightly. Natasha looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Hi."

You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the curious stares of Natasha's teammates. "I was wondering if... if you'd like to go out with me? Maybe we could grab a coffee or something?"

There was a moment of silence, and it felt like the world had stopped. Natasha's expression was unreadable, and your heart sank, fearing the worst. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of Natasha's lips. "Sure. I'd like that." You blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," Natasha said, her smile growing. "Why not? It could be fun." Relief and joy flooded through you, and you couldn't help but grin. "Great! Um, I'll see you after school?"

"Sounds good " Natasha replied with a nod. As you turned and walked back to your table, you felt like you were walking on air. Tony and Kate greeted you with cheers and high-fives.

"See? I told you it would work." Tony said, looking quite pleased with himself. "Thanks, Tony. I owe you one.." you said, your smile not fading.

"Just have fun." Tony replied with a wink. "And don't forget to tell me all about it."

Natasha watched you, even as her teammates' conversations drew her back in. The cafeteria was bustling with life, but her thoughts remained on the unexpected encounter with you. Natasha's smile faded slightly as she continued to think.

She glanced over at your table, where Tony was animatedly talking with you and Kate. Natasha squinted slightly. Tony Stark and his buddy Bucky Barnes were notorious at school for their playboy antics, always bragging about their latest conquests. Natasha had seen too many girls left heartbroken by them and wasn't about to let herself become one of their pawns.

She knew better than to trust appearances, especially when Stark and his crew were involved. Steve and Sam exchanged looks but said nothing further. They knew Natasha well enough to understand that once she made up her mind, nothing could change it.

As her teammates turned back to their meals, Natasha's resolve grew stronger. She wouldn't be another notch on someone's belt. If you thought you could play her, you had another thing coming. Natasha would play along, but on her terms. She would teach you a lesson and be the one to walk away first.

Later, as the cafeteria began to empty, Natasha found herself glancing over at your table again. Tony had left, probably off to charm someone else, and you were deep in conversation with Kate. For a brief moment, you looked up, and your eyes met. Natasha gave a slight nod in greeting, and you smiled shyly before quickly looking away.

"Hey, Nat, you coming?" Sam called, breaking her train of thought. "Yeah, I'm coming." Natasha replied, grabbing her things and casting you one last glance before following her teammates out of the cafeteria.

As Natasha walked through the school halls with her teammates, she couldn't help but feel a sense of determination. She had been played before and had learned from those experiences. This time, she would be in control. This time, Natasha would be the one to break a heart first.

Later that evening, Natasha found herself getting ready for the coffee date with you. She dressed casually but made sure she looked good. After all, she had to maintain the appearance. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she reminded herself of her plan. She would make you think you had a chance, play the role of the interested one, but always with her guard up.

When she arrived at the café, she saw you already there, nervously fiddling with your phone. She took a deep breath, put on her best smile, and walked over to you. "Hey," she greeted you, sitting down across from you. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

You looked up, and your face lit up with a smile. "No, not at all. I'm just glad you came." Natasha returned the smile, but her mind was already at work. She would play the game, but this time, she would win.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, smiling at you. "So, tell me a bit about yourself. What do you do besides cheerleading?" You smiled and relaxed a little. "Well, I'm really into dance. I've been dancing since I was a kid. It's a big part of my life. What about you? How did you get into football?"

Natasha shrugged casually, but couldn't suppress a hint of nostalgia. "I've always been into sports. Growing up, it was a way to escape everything else. Soccer just became my passion." You nodded, your eyes reflecting genuine interest. "That's amazing. Watching you play is incredible."

"Thanks." Natasha replied, appreciating the compliment but reminding herself, "What do you want to do after school?"

"I'm thinking about studying dance and maybe becoming a choreographer.." you said, your eyes lighting up. "It's a long shot, but it's my dream." Natasha smiled, feeling a small connection despite her intentions. "That's the right attitude. You should go for it."

They continued talking, the conversation flowing easily. You shared stories about your family and friends, and Natasha found herself laughing at some of your anecdotes. Despite her initial skepticism, she found herself enjoying your company. You were warm and engaging, and Natasha began to wonder if she had misjudged you.

As the evening progressed, they finished their coffee and walked out of the café together. The night air was cool, and they strolled slowly, talking about everything and anything.

"That was really nice.." you said softly, looking at her. "Yeah, it was." Natasha agreed, feeling a twinge of doubt about her plan. But she quickly pushed it aside. "Maybe we could do this again sometime?" you asked hopefully. Natasha smiled, but kept her emotions in check. "Sure, I'd like that."

They said their goodbyes, and Natasha watched as you walked away, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She had to remind herself of her plan. This was about teaching a lesson, not getting involved.

In the following days, Natasha found herself thinking about you more often than she cared to admit. They saw each other at school, exchanged smiles, and even had a few brief conversations. Natasha's teammates noticed and made some teasing comments, but she brushed them off, determined to stay focused.

One afternoon, Natasha was in the gym working out when Tony and Bucky walked in. They were laughing and talking, as usual, about their latest conquests. "Hey, Romanoff, heard you're spending time with Y/n." Tony said, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't think you were her type."

Natasha gave him a cool look. "We're just hanging out, Stark. Why do you care?" Bucky grinned. "Just don't let her wrap you around her finger, Nat. Girls like her are dangerous."

Natasha clenched her jaw, her resolve hardening. "I know exactly what I'm doing." Tony shrugged, a sly smile on his face. "Just looking out for her. If you need tips on handling her, you know where to find me."

Natasha rolled her eyes and returned to her workout, but their words echoed in her mind. She had to stay focused. She couldn't let you get too close.

A few days later, Natasha and you were sitting together on the school steps, enjoying a rare moment of calm between classes. They talked about their weekend plans, laughing and sharing stories. "So, I was thinking.." you began, a hint of nervousness in your voice. "Maybe we could go to the movies this weekend?" Natasha hesitated, her plan and growing feelings clashing in her mind. She forced a smile. "Yeah, that sounds like fun."

As you beamed with excitement, Natasha's thoughts raced. She had to be careful. She couldn't let you get too close. She would go to the movies, keep up the charade, but always remember why she was doing this. But as they continued talking, Natasha couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was still the one being played. You seemed so genuine, so different from the others. Natasha's resolve wavered, but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside. She had a lesson to teach, and she wouldn't be the one getting hurt.

Days passed, and their bond grew stronger. They spent almost every day together, finding comfort in each other's company. Natasha couldn't deny the feelings blossoming inside her, even as she kept reminding herself of her original plan.

One evening, they were at Natasha's house, sitting on the couch and watching a movie. Natasha's arm was around your shoulders, and you were snuggled close to her. The movie played in the background, but Natasha's attention was entirely on the girl beside her.

You leaned in and caught Natasha's lips in a tender kiss. This time, the kiss deepened, filled with a longing and passion neither could deny. Natasha's hands tangled in your hair as she pulled you closer, their bodies pressing together.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless. Your eyes searched Natasha's eyes, filled with a mix of desire and affection. "Natasha, I want to be with you. Completely.." Natasha's heart raced, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She wanted this more than she had wanted anything in a long time. But the nagging reminder of why she had started all of this lingered. Fuck it, just this one time. She pushed those thoughts aside and nodded. "I want that too."

They went into Natasha's bedroom, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. As they kissed and undressed each other, the outside world faded, leaving only the here and now. Natasha's hands roamed over your body, her touch gentle yet demanding. You responded in kind, your fingers tracing the contours of Natasha's skin, eliciting shivers and soft sighs.

Natasha took the lead, her movements confident and assured. She guided you to the bed and gently laid you down. Natasha's eyes glided over your body, appreciating every curve and contour. "You're so beautiful.." she whispered, her voice husky with desire. You blushed, your breath hitching as Natasha's hands caressed you. "Natasha..."

"Shh.." Natasha murmured, leaning down to kiss you deeply. "Let me take care of you." Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of soft kisses and gentle nibbles. You arched your back, your hands gripping the sheets as Natasha's mouth explored your body. When Natasha's lips reached a sensitive spot, a gasp escaped you, your fingers tangling in her hair.

"S-Shit, please..." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. Natasha looked up, her eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I need you." Natasha smiled, her hands gliding over your body, exploring every inch of you. She took her time, savoring every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. When Natasha's fingers found your most sensitive spot, she teased you gently, drawing out the pleasure.

Natasha kissed her way back up to your lips, capturing them in a passionate kiss. "You feel so good." she murmured against your lips. "I want more of you."

Your breath hitched as Natasha's fingers grew more intense, your body trembling with pleasure. "Natasha... I'm so close..."

"Let go." Natasha whispered, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement. "I've got you." With Natasha's words and touch guiding you, you let go, your body shuddering with the intensity of your climax. Natasha held you close, her lips pressing gentle kisses to your skin, murmuring soothing words.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you clung to Natasha, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You lay entwined, your bodies warm and satisfied. Natasha's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, and you sighed contentedly.

"I'm falling in love with you.." you murmured, your voice soft and content. Natasha's heart was full of emotions, but the nagging voice in the back of her mind doesn't stop. She kissed your head, holding you close. "I'm falling for you too.."

Natasha's breath caught as you kissed her again. Slowly, you began to kiss your way down Natasha's body, your lips leaving a trail of fire. Natasha's skin tingled with every kiss, her breath growing uneven as you moved lower. When your lips reached Natasha's erect member, a soft moan escaped her, her hands gripping the sheets. "Fuck...you don't have to..."

Natasha's body responded eagerly as your mouth closed around her shaft, your tongue moving in gentle circles. Natasha gasped, her hips bucking instinctively. "Oh God, Y/n..." Her grip in your hair tightened, guiding your movements. "Take it... d-deeper.." she commanded, her voice husky with desire.

Your hands held Natasha's thighs steady as you took her deeper, your mouth moving up and down with growing intensity. Natasha's breath came in ragged gasps, her hands tangling in your hair as the pleasure built. "Y/n..don't stop..." Natasha panted, her body trembling with need.

Your lips and tongue moved with expert precision, driving Natasha closer to the edge with each stroke. Natasha felt the pleasure rising to an unbearable peak, her body arching off the bed. "Fuck, I'm so close..." Her grip in your hair tightened, holding you in place. "I want to fill your mouth.." she whispered, her voice commanding and intense.

With your encouragement and skilled movements, Natasha finally let go, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her body shuddered with the intensity, her moans filling the room as she found her release. You held her close, your mouth and hands not stopping, prolonging the pleasure until Natasha was completely spent, and you swallowing every drop.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Natasha lay back, her breath coming in ragged bursts. You crawled back up to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. Natasha pulled you close, holding you tight. "You're incredible.." she said, her voice filled with emotion.

They lay together, their bodies entwined, and Natasha couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Despite the nagging voice in the back of her mind, she couldn't deny the feelings that had blossomed between them. And that was dangerous. So, she made a note to end things in the coming days. It was always best to stop while things were still good, right?

A few days later, during one of Natasha's games, you were on the field with the cheerleading team, cheering loudly with the rest of the crowd. Your eyes followed Natasha's every move, your heart swelling with pride and affection. Natasha was in her element, moving with grace and power, leading her team with confidence.

At one point during the game, Natasha was tackled hard and hit the ground with a dull thud. Your heart skipped a beat, concern flooding you as you saw Natasha lying motionless before she slowly got up. "Come on, Natasha.." you whispered to yourself, your hands clutching your pom poms tightly.

Natasha shook off the tackle, waved away her concerned teammates, and signaled to the coach that she was fine. She caught your worried look from the sideline and gave you a reassuring nod. You breathed a sigh of relief, not realizing you had been holding your breath.

The game continued, and Natasha's team eventually won, the crowd erupting in cheers. As the team headed towards the locker room, you pushed through the crowd, your worry still evident on your face. You reached Natasha just as she was about to enter the locker room. "Are you okay?" you asked, your voice full of concern.

Natasha looked at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "I'm fine. It was just a tackle." You frowned, not entirely convinced. "Are you sure? That looked really bad." Natasha laughed, the sound cold and distant. "Trust me, I've been through worse." You nodded, but the unease didn't leave you. "Okay, if you say so. Just be careful, okay?"

"Of course," Natasha replied, her tone almost mocking. "See you later." You watched her go, a nagging feeling that something was wrong gnawing at you. You shook your head, trying to brush it off, and returned to your team.

Days passed, and Natasha and you still continued to spend time together, your bond seeming to grow stronger. You laughed more, shared more secrets, and your connection felt unbreakable. But Natasha knew it was time to execute the final part of her plan.

One afternoon, Natasha asked you to meet her at the park where you had shared your first kiss. You arrived with a smile, which quickly faded when you saw the cold, distant expression on Natasha's face. "Natasha, what's wrong?" you asked, concern creeping into your voice.

Natasha took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "We need to talk." Your eyes widened, your heart sinking. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

Natasha looked away, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "I think we need to end this. Us." The words hung heavy and painful in the air. Your face contorted, tears welling up in your eyes. "W-What, why? Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, come on. Do you really think I didn't see through your little game? You and Tony trying to play me? I know all about your plans." Your face twisted in confusion and pain. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb.." Natasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You and Tony thought you could manipulate me, get into my head. Well, guess what? I was the one playing you. How does it feel, Y/n?"

Your eyes widened in shock. "N-No..Natasha! you misunderstood... I never-" Natasha laughed, the sound harsh and unkind. "Did you really think I meant any of it? You were just a game. I got close to you to show you how it feels like, when you get crushed."

Your sobs grew louder, your body trembling with heartbreak. "Please, Natasha. I don't understand... We were happy! Y-You said you loved me..?"

Natasha's smile widened, finding twisted pleasure in your pain. "Oh, that's rich. Love? You're really naive. This was never about love. It was about teaching you a lesson. You have no right to mess with me or anyone else with your kind!" You couldn't take it anymore. You turned and ran, your sobs echoing through the park. Natasha watched you go, feeling a cruel satisfaction. She had fulfilled her plan, proving she had control.

But as days passed, Natasha found herself constantly revisiting your conversations, reliving the memories of your shared moments. The photos, the laughter, the intimate moments haunted her. Every message, every smile in the photos brought a sting of regret and doubt.

She noticed a change in the people around her. Tony, who was usually so friendly and outgoing, seemed to avoid her. The usual camaraderie felt strained, and Natasha's frustration grew. One day, unable to bear it any longer, Natasha confronted him. "Hey, Stark, what's your problem?"

Tony's face darkened with anger. "My problem? What's your problem, Natasha? Why did you hurt Y/n so badly?" Natasha's anger flared. "What are you talking about? You and Y/n must find someone else for your games. I'm done being your pawn."

Tony's eyes blazed with fury. "Games? What are you talking about? Y/n never played games! She was in love with you, and you broke her heart for no reason!"

Natasha felt a chill run down her spine. "What?" Tony stepped closer, his voice trembling with anger. "You heard me. She loved you, Natasha. She was head over heels for you. Why would you think otherwise?!"

Natasha felt the ground shift beneath her feet. "But...No! You both scheme against everyone!"

Tony's eyes widened with realization. "Natasha, you got it all wrong.. Y/n is sincere. Have you ever heard anything negative from her? Do you think someone like her would betray anyone? Come on! She’s been devastated since the breakup."

Natasha's breath caught as Tony's words sank in. The pieces fell into place, and she realized the truth. Your tears, your heartbreak, your love..it had all been real.

"Oh my God.." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling. "What have I done?" Tony looked at her with a mix of pity and disappointment. "You messed up, Natasha. Big time."

Natasha's mind raced, guilt and regret overwhelming her. She had been so blinded by her own insecurities and assumptions that she had destroyed the one real thing she had. Now she had to find a way to fix it.

One afternoon, she saw you walking with Kate outside the school. Natasha hurried after you, calling your name. "Y/n! Wait, please!" You stopped, your face hardening as you saw Natasha approaching. Kate looked between you, sensing the tension. "What do you want, Natasha?" Kate asked, her voice icy.

"Kate, please stay out of this. I need to talk to her!" Natasha said, desperation in her voice.But Kate tried to protect you. "I think you've said enough. Leave her alone."

Natasha's eyes flashed with determination. She gently but firmly pushed Kate aside and stepped closer to you. Your eyes filled with tears. "There's nothing to talk about. You made it very clear how you feel."

"No, you don't understand!" Natasha pleaded, her heart aching. "I was wrong.. I thought you and Tony were playing me..Like hes doing with everyone. I was stupid and paranoid."

Your tears began to flow, your voice shaking. "You were wrong? You hurt me, Natasha. You made me feel like I was worthless."

"I'm so sorry.." Natasha said, her voice breaking. "I know I hurt you, and I regret it every second. Please, Y/n, give me a chance to make it right." Your face contorted with pain and anger. "Make it right? You think you can just apologize, and everything will be okay? You humiliated me, Natasha! You laughed at my pain!!"

Natasha tried to take your hand, but you slapped it away. "Don't touch me!" you spat, your voice raw with emotion. "You can't just walk back into my life like nothing happened!"

"Please, Y/n. " Natasha whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I love you." Your face twisted in pain and disbelief. "You don't know what love is." you said, your voice breaking.

Natasha's heart shattered at your words. "I was wrong. I didn't mean any of it. I was just scared...Please..." You shook your head, more tears streaming down your cheeks. "No, Natasha. You can't undo what you've done. You hurt me more than anyone else ever has."

"Y/n-" Your face hardened as you raised your hand and slapped Natasha across the face. "Stay away from me." you sobbed. Natasha stood there, stunned and devastated, as you walked away with Kate. She watched you go, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. She had hoped for a chance to make things right, but now she was faced with the harsh reality of her actions.

Days passed, and Natasha found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything. She was a wreck at her games, her usual confidence and precision gone. She kept looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, but you were never there. Your absence was a constant reminder of her mistake, gnawing at her every day. Her teammates noticed the change, but Natasha couldn't bring herself to explain. She went through the motions, but her heart wasn't in it. She missed you more than she could express, and the guilt gnawed at her relentlessly.

She replayed the memories in her mind over and over again, the laughter, the kisses, the moments of pure bliss. She went through her old messages, the photos they had taken together, each one a stab to her heart. She had lost something precious, something real, and she didn't know how to live with it.

Her teammates tried to reach out to her, but she pushed them away, unable to face their sympathy. She felt she didn't deserve their pity. She deserved nothing but the pain she felt. Every day was a struggle, and every night she lay awake, her thoughts tormented by you. The guilt was unbearable, and the loneliness suffocating. She had made the worst mistake of her life, and now she had to pay the price.

One day, Natasha sat alone in the locker room after another disappointing game. She knew she needed a plan, something that would prove her sincerity and dedication. An idea began to form in her mind. It was risky and would require a lot of effort, but she was determined. She would plan something special, something that would show you how much you meant to her.

Meanwhile, you tried to move on. Kate and Tony had been supporting you, but your heart was still broken. You avoided places where you might encounter Natasha, but the memories of your time together haunted you. You missed Natasha, but the pain of betrayal was still fresh. One day, as you walked through the schoolyard, you saw Tony flirting with a girl. The familiar sight of Tony's flirtatious behavior made your stomach turn. You knew what he was doing, just proving his conquest list again. Anger boiled inside you, and you marched up to him.

"Tony!" you called, drawing his attention to you. He turned around, surprised to see you. "Hey, Y/n. What's up-" Without warning, you slapped him hard. "This is all your fault! Because of you, Natasha thought I was just playing with her!"

The girl Tony was talking to looked shocked and quickly walked away. Tony rubbed his cheek, wincing in pain. "Y/N, what the hell?!"

Your eyes filled with tears. "You and Bucky have such a terrible reputation, and it cost me the only person who really mattered to me. Natasha thought I was just like you because of your stupid games!" Tony's face softened as he saw the pain in your eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

"Just stay away from me," you hissed, turning to walk away, leaving Tony feeling guilty.

More days passed, and you continued to avoid Natasha. You ignored the countless messages she sent you, each one a plea for a chance to explain, to make things right. Your phone buzzed constantly with new texts:

"Y/n, please, talk to me."

"I was wrong, and I'm so sorry."

"I miss you..."

"Please don't shut me out."

Your resolve weakened with each message, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond. You were too hurt, too confused. One afternoon, someone convinced you to attend one of Natasha's games. "Just see for yourself how much she's struggling."

Reluctantly, you agreed. You sat in the stands, trying to keep your emotions in check as you watched the game. When you saw Natasha take the field, a sharp pain shot through your chest. The sight of everyone cheering for Natasha, unaware of the turmoil between you, made your wounds ache even more.

It was clear that Natasha wasn't her usual confident self. She made mistakes, seemed distracted, and looked miserable. Her coach was furious, yelling at her from the sidelines. "Romanoff! What the hell!! Focus now!" he shouted. The situation worsened when Natasha was tackled hard, causing the crowd to gasp in shock. She lay on the ground for a moment before getting up and trudging off the field, leaving her team behind.

She sat alone in the room, her head in her hands again. She felt empty and lost, completely broken. She went through the motions, showering off the sweat and dirt from the game, but the hot water couldn't wash away the guilt clinging to her. As she stepped out of the shower, her phone buzzed with a new message. You had finally responded:

"Fine. Let's talk. But don't expect much."

Natasha's heart leaped with hope. She quickly dried off, her fingers trembling as she replied, setting a time and place for your meeting.

When you arrived at the park, you were surprised to see that it had been decorated with fairy lights and flowers. Natasha stood there looking nervous and hopeful. "Hi." Natasha began, her voice trembling. "Thank you for coming."

Yoy crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check. "What is this?"

"This is me trying to make things right.." Natasha said, stepping closer. "I know I hurt you, and i know I don't deserve another chance, but I'm begging you to hear me out."

Your eyes were wary, but you nodded for Natasha to continue You crossed your arms, your expression guarded. "You have five minutes." Natasha took a deep breath. "I know I messed everything up. I let my fears and insecurities take control. Tony's and Bucky's reputation made me paranoid, and I thought you were playing me just like they would. I was so wrong, and I'm so, so sorry."

Your eyes softened slightly, but you remained cautious. "I understand why you were wary because of Tony and Bucky, but that doesn't give you the right to treat me the same way."

"I know!" Natasha said quickly, her voice full of remorse. "I should have trusted you. I should have known you were different. I'm so sorry.." You took a deep breath, your emotions swirling. "You broke my heart, Natasha. How can I trust you again?"

"I know it will take time," Natasha said, pleading. "But I'm willing to wait. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. Please, Y/n, give me a chance..please.."

You looked into Natasha's eyes, searching for signs of dishonesty. All you saw was genuine remorse and.. love. You stepped closer, your resolve softening. "This doesn't mean everything is okay. It will take time, and you have to prove yourself."

Natasha nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, of course. I'll do anything! Whatever it takes.." You glanced around the park, how much love Natasha put in it. "We'll start slow. Step by step."

A wave of relief and hope washed over Natasha as she held your hand. "Thank you, Y/n. I won't let you down. Thank you."

In the following weeks, Natasha worked hard to rebuild your relationship. She showed up for you in every possible way, being patient and understanding. You spent time together, talked through your issues, and began to heal slowly. It wasn't easy, and there were many ups and downs, but Natasha's sincerity and dedication shone through. You began to trust her again, and your bond grew stronger than before.

One day, as Natasha walked you home after school, she held your hand and smiled at you. "I have a surprise for you." she said with a mysterious smile. "What is it?" you asked, curiosity piqued, your heart beating faster.

"You'll see.." Natasha replied, leading you to a small dance studio nearby. "I know how important dancing is to you, and I wanted to do something special."

She opened the door to reveal the room reserved just for the two of you. The studio was softly lit, and gentle music played in the corner. You were speechless, overwhelmed with surprise and emotion. "Natasha... This is... How did you do this?"

"Someone owed me something.." Natasha said gently. "I thought we could dance together... Even though I don't really know how."

You couldn't help but laugh, and you spent the evening dancing together. Natasha might not have been the best dancer, but she tried, and you could see the sincerity and love in every movement. You laughed, stumbled, and simply enjoyed the time together.

After the dance, you sat down, Natasha holding your hand and looking deep into your eyes. "Y/n, I know I hurt you, but I promise I will never disappoint you again. I love you more than anything."

You smiled and squeezed her hand. "I love you too, Natasha. Thank you for never giving up." With time, trust, and patience, Natasha and you rebuilt your relationship stronger than ever. You both learned from your mistakes, grew together, and created a bond that nothing could break. The pain of the past slowly faded, replaced by a love that was real.

[bonus-links]

Your picture of mage with all those maps got me thinking. Which Link do you think is most likely to find a safe spot in the dungeon, sit down, and start poring over maps? Drawing and adding details, taking notes, and methodically coming up with precise and detailed plans before proceeding?

Conversely, which one do you think is most likely to just wing it, take things as they come, and just rely on memory and instinct to guide themselves through the dungeon? (And tear their hair out when a Wallmaster takes them back to the start and they have to figure out how to get back to where they were.)

oh this is a fascinating question. it’s funny because as a player, I am absolutely the second one 😂

Spirit is DEFINITELY at the maximum end of being meticulous with his notes (bolstered by this being an actual mechanic in spirit tracks lol). He’s fully starting to draw his own maps before he even gets his hands on the actual one. War doesn’t actually have much practical experience with dungeons, but if he were to find himself in one he would also for sure be making extremely detailed notes and plans. I think Mask would also err on the side of making plans and paying a lot of attention to the map.

funnily enough I’d put Mage somewhere in the middle. He takes pretty detailed notes and makes drawings, but he’s still got a pretty chaotic approach. The notes are more for research purposes than for planning. I’d put Mini, Wake, and Mirror in this category too, paying attention to the map but also still fucking around lol

Everyone else is winging it 😂 Loft barely even looks at the maps, his memory is terrible but somehow he always makes it though. Wolf feels like it’s better to just tackle each obstacle head-on as it comes up. Slate is all vibes, and doesn’t think the puzzles are all that complicated anyway.

[runningfrom2am]

gem of panem // LTPF

summary: introducing regulus and regan snow; son and daughter of the most powerful couple the country has ever seen. the real gems of panem.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: dad!coryo!! finally!!, gamemaker!reader, this time the capitol brats are their kids, also a little bit of violence in this one!! some very minor medical procedure descriptions (trypanophobia havers beware- although that's me so i was VERY vague with descriptions otherwise i would have made myself cry)

a/n: i've had dad!coryo requested for this series a few times so here's a taste of that and an introduction to their kids!! ahh I've been working on this for so long i hope you guys love it :)

series masterlist // playlist

"I simply do not have time for this. Notify my husband." You wave off your assistant as you stand over the large round table in your laboratory.

"I- uh, your husband, Doctor Snow?" The young girl stammers.

"I don't believe I stuttered, did I?"

"No, Doctor. I just... I am uncertain he will be available right now."

You look up from the scattered pile of papers, and you can see her tense up. "I understand that he's our president, but he is also a father. He is more 'available' than I am a week before the games! Now go, he shall handle it."

"Yes, okay. I will, I'm sorry." She agrees, already pacing away and out of your sight and you get back to work, resisting the urge to attempt at rubbing away your now growing migraine.

"President Snow, sir?" Coryo looks up from his desk as one of his people opens the door for your assistant.

"Serena, my wife sent you?" He asks, standing quickly. It wasn't standard that you would send her instead of showing up yourself, or even just waiting until the end of the day to tell him over dinner.

"Yes, sir." She nods, looking down at her notepad. "Her office got a call from the academy, about an hour ago. They wished to speak with her about your son, sir. In person."

Coryo furrows his brow, already standing and grabbing his red overcoat. "Did something happen?" Why would they call the head gamemaker and demand her presence a week before the games? That seems incredibly careless.

"They wouldn't tell me anything other than the fact he is safe and not injured, sir."

He nods slightly, already brushing past her out the door. "Call the school, tell them I am on my way."

Coryo gets out of the black car, pacing up to the elementary wing of the academy's campus, a building he is far too familiar with. Walking in, he watches the receptionists eyes go wide as they both stare at him. He clears his throat.

"Where is my son?" He asks flatly.

"In the Deans office, President Snow." She replies and he nods, rubbing his jaw.

"Whose decision was it to call on my wife a week before the games are set to begin?"

Her face pales. "Well, um, she is the primary emergency contact for him, it is procedure to make that call first."

"So it was you?"

"Yes, sir."

Coryo leans onto the counter that separated them. "Right, well, maybe we should work on our critical thinking skills next time if we want to keep our jobs, yes?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He smiles slightly at her response, tapping his hand on the granite counter before walking off down the private hall.

He enters without knocking, practically slamming the door open and immediately searching the unnecessarily large office for your son. "Regulus, are you alright?" He asks, approaching the boy quickly when he sees him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Dad, I'm fine..." He mutters, arms crossed over his chest as he pouts.

Coryo crouches down in front of him, examining him closely.

"Coriolanus, I was surprised to get your call." The new Dean says, drawing his attention as he stands back up.

"Why is that?" Coryo asks, turning to his former classmate with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugs, standing behind her desk with her hands in her pockets. "We called for Y/N."

"A week before the games." He nods, approaching the desk slowly. "Are you not happier to see me than her, timing considered?"

"That's a good point." Persephone chuckles.

"Yes, she was not pleased you even called." Coryo replies, knowing he didn't even speak with you directly. "So please, tell me what is so important that you needed to interrupt both of our schedules."

"Right, yes. Please take a seat." She gestured toward the chair across from her own and he sits, only because it's polite. "So," She flips over a page in the notebook in front of her. "Regulus hit another student."

Coryo's eyebrows raise, and he turns to look at his son who's still pouting in the corner. "Come here, please." He pages him, and he saunters over, refusing to make eye contact with either of the adults in the room.

"Why?" Coryo asks him as he takes the empty seat next to him. The boy shrugs, still avoiding their gaze.

Coryo sighs. "Would you mind, Persephone? What happened?"

"Apparently..." She glances at her notes again. "Another student took his pencil without asking first and didn't give it back because, quote, 'they needed it and he had plenty'." She explains, looking up at them again. Regulus was the striking image of his father, his hair in the same longer somewhat disheveled curls that she used to remember on the man sitting next to him when they were that age.

"That's it?" Coryo asks.

"He hit him on the head, he's in the nurses office now being assessed for a concussion."

"Okay..?" He chuckles slightly in response. "Why did you have to call us?"

"Because this is a serious disciplinary issue." She scoffs, gesturing to his son.

Coryo looks between the two of them. "Okay, well, he looks like he feels bad, and I'll have my staff send an apology letter to the boys parents." He says, standing up again and tucking the chair back in. "Come on, kid. Let's go."

"Coriolanus, respectfully, this is more severe than that." Persephone interrupts. "We won't allow students to go around hurting others- especially over something so menial as a pencil. Eight years is too old for that kind of behaviour."

"You know his mother- don't you?" Coryo asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "I promise you, Dean Price, this is not serious." He turns then to his son. "Grab your stuff, I'll take you home." He says, and the little blonde boy rushes back to the corner to grab his bag.

"Coriolanus." She says again, exasperated by his lack of concern.

"Oh, and please tell the other boy that theft is not tolerated in Panem. He's lucky we won't have him executed." Coryo says, feigning a genuine smile at her with a sharp nod. He knows this isn't true, that executing a child over something so petty would never be considered in the Capitol, it would just be wasteful, but maybe next time he would think before stealing from the Presidents son.

She gives up at this, sighing as they walk toward the door.

Coryo shuts the door behind them, reaching forward to ruffle his son's hair.

The boy giggles, pouting and trying to fix it. "Dad.." He laughs, looking back up at him. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

"No, of course not." He grins, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder as they walk. "Did you know that your Dean is a cannibal?" He whispers, giving a quick nod to the girls at the reception desk as they pass.

Regulus gasps, looking up at him. "Is she really?"

"Yes." Coryo nods. "Tell your friends."

"Ew..." His son shivers, and Coryo smiles.

"I know right? Gross." He laughs quietly as they step out into the hall. "Now, where's your sister?"

"She's in English." Regulus answers and Coryo nods, leading him up the stairs and toward the classroom.

Once again, Coryo doesn't bother knocking before opening the door to his daughter's classroom.

Everyone looks up at once and the teacher pauses, gasps and whispers filling the room.

"Daddy!" Regan smiles, standing quickly and running down the stairs to the door, throwing her arms around his waist.

"Hi, Gem." He chuckles slightly, rubbing her back as she clings to him.

"President Snow..." The teacher smiles nervously. "We weren't expecting a visit today, but we were just discussing the significance of The Hunger Games and it's depictions in literature, would you care to comment?"

"Oh, interesting!" He grins, glancing back to Regulus waiting just outside. "I would love to, but Regan's mother is really the one to speak to about all that. Unfortunately, I'm busy today but perhaps we can get her in one day to speak in one of your lessons?"

"That would be wonderful." Her teacher smiles. "Then, what brings you in?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry for interrupting, but I'll be pulling Regan for the day." He explains and his daughter gasps, looking up at him with excitement. "Yeah." He whispers to her, patting her head. "Go get your things."

"Oh! Okay, did you sign her out? Typically they would call me beforehand." The teacher replies as Regan goes back to her seat, grabbing her things and being not so sneaky about sticking her tongue out at her classmates.

"No, I just decided to grab her while I was here. Just call the office and let them know I took her." He smiles, opening his arm to his daughter again as she comes back.

Regan practically skips out of the room, super excited to be free of something she already hears about endlessly at home. "What happened, Daddy? Why are we leaving?" She asks, grabbing her father's hand.

"Well, my schedule cleared up and I just thought 'Hm... I sure am missing my favourite girl today,' and then I remembered your last report card and how incredibly well you are doing and decided you deserved a day off."

"Really?!" She squeals, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Of course, Sweetheart." Coryo chuckles, scooping her up to carry her down the stairs.

"Lux, what would you like to do today? Anything you want." He looks down at the boy walking next to them.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Daddy, can we go see Mum?" Regan asks, looking up at him with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. "I want to see her pets!"

Coryo chews the inside of his cheek. It's certainly not a good time, but if he would be with them maybe they could just sneak in to say hello. He found it extremely difficult to say no to her. "Sure, Darling." He nods, opening the front door to the academy.

"Okay, remember, Mum is very busy so we're just going to pop in to say hello, and if she says it's okay we can go see her pets." Coryo explains to the kids as they get out of the car outside the Citadel. "We're going to be quiet, and not touch a single thing unless I say it's okay."

Regan's blonde pigtails bounce as she runs up the stairs in front of the building, having abandoned her bag in the car. Regulus is right on her heels, reaching for her hair as if he's going to pull it.

They were under a year apart in age, 'district twins', as Ma Plinth had dubbed them when Regan was born. When you were expecting your son, the games were difficult to plan and execute. You would never admit it, but Coryo could see that the hormones of pregnancy made you almost sympathetic to the tributes and their families- you could hardly even watch the games you spent a year meticulously planning. You spent most of the time you could watch with a bucket in your lap. So when Coryo suggested you have your second right away, you were skeptical. You didn't want to go through that again right away, but he wasn't sure he could convince you to do it again if you decided to wait.

"Let's just get it over with," He had insisted. "Then we'll have our two beautiful babies and you'll never have to do it again. Everything will go back to normal." You couldn't argue with that logic.

So when Regulus was eleven months old, the Capitol was buzzing with excitement over the announcement that the First Lady of Panem had given birth to another child; a baby girl, and she was perfect.

"Gem of Panem! What do we have here?" Your receptionist grins as the three of them stroll in, eyes locked on the kids as Regan holds her head high. The receptionist is rounding the desk, crouching down and opening her arms for the little girl who happily runs into them. "If it isn't the real gem of Panem, how are you, Miss Regan?"

"I'm good." Regan giggles, arms wrapped around the woman's neck. "Daddy picked me up from school early."

"I see that." She chuckles, standing up and lifting the seven year old onto her hip as she looks at Coryo.

"I decided to let the kids have the rest of the day off today, and they wanted to come say hi to Doctor Snow." He explains. "If she has a moment."

"Oh, that's a good question..." The woman nods, gently lowering Regan back to the ground and circling the desk again, pulling up the paper schedule and scanning over it for a moment. "You know what, let me call her and just ask."

Your phone rings on your desk in the corner and you sigh, heels clicking across the floor as you pace over. "I swear to god if it is the school again..." You mumble to yourself, picking up the line. "What is it?"

"Doctor Snow, sorry to bug you, but your family is here."

"My family..." You ask, mind still set on the technical details of the almost prepared arena.

"Yes, Doctor. President Snow has brought your children by, they wish to see you, but only if you have time."

You blink, realizing what she said. "Okay, yes. That's fine. Send them down."

You can hear your kids before you see them, Regan talking away mostly to herself as they step out of the elevator into the part of your lab that held your office. You sigh, quickly removing your leather gloves and fixing the disheveled state of your hair before stepping out into the hall to greet them.

"Mummy!" Your daughter squeals, running toward you as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

"Hi, Gem..." You laugh slightly, eyes now focussed on Regulus. He's shifting on his feet, standing so close to his father's side that he's almost standing behind him.

"Lux," You let your daughter go, opening your arms to him. "Come here, darling. What's wrong? What happened?"

He doesn't say anything, eyes locked on the ground as he walks up to you and leans into your shoulder. "Are you hurt?" He slightly shakes his head and you pick him up, allowing him to wrap his legs around your waist and arms around your neck.

You look pointedly at your husband.

'I'll tell you about it later' He mouths to you and you nod, gently rubbing circles into the boys back while Regan pulls on your lab coat impatiently.

"Mummm," She whines, already stomping her foot on the ground since your attention was no longer on her. "Mum, I want to see your pets and Daddy said we could."

"I said maybe, Gem." Coryo laughs slightly.

You chew on your lip, not minding the deteriorating state of your red lipstick. You were really anxious to find out what happened with Regulus, so maybe letting the kids entertain themselves for just a moment would allow you a second to talk to Coryo about it.

"Sure, of course you can. We'll just have to be quick, Mum is very busy today." You smile, gently putting your son down as his head perks up at the idea. "Come on." You take his hand, leading them all down the hall to one particularly safe section of your lab.

There are a series of mutts under testing and development here, but in this room close to your office, it contained only small animals like mice and rats, or bugs that the kids never showed much interest in. "Don't touch a thing, okay?" You tell them as you unlock the door.

The kids rush in, running up to a tank and immediately gawking at its contents. You didn't understand why, fully, since they just looked like regular old house mice. Your kids just wanted to be involved, you supposed. The same way Regan enjoyed sitting on Coryo's lap while he gave speeches or did interviews, but Regulus had always shown more of an interest in what you did behind the scenes, not just in front of the cameras.

"What happened?" You ask Coryo quietly as soon as they are sufficiently occupied.

Coryo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek as you keep your eyes locked on the kids. "Hello to you too."

You sigh, smiling as you lean into him. "Hi. Sorry. I'm just a little stressed."

"I know, love. Don't worry about it." He squeezes your side. "We'll get out of your hair in a few minutes."

"What happened with him?" You ask again.

"He hit another kid." Coryo states plainly and you gasp, turning to fully look at him for the first time.

"What?" You ask, searching his expression for any clue that he may have been kidding.

He shrugs. "They stole his pencil and refused to give it back."

"Oh, well, then they deserved it." You scoff. "Little brat- did you get the names of the parents?"

He laughs quietly, shaking his head and reaching up to hold your cheek. "I handled it. Don't worry about a thing." You don't have the chance to argue before he's kissing you to hush any of your concerns.

You hum against his lips, pressing a hand to his chest. "But, Coryo-"

"I handled it." He reminds you, just gently biting down on your lower lip. You can feel him smiling against you and you hum, allowing yourself to relax for just a moment.

Coryo takes the opportunity to turn to face you fully, dragging his hands down over your hips and backing you against the wall just behind you.

The kids were there, yes, but they were well used to seeing you kiss. It didn't bother either of you, and they had never known anything else. One day they may complain, but until that day came you would take every opportunity granted to you within your mutually tight schedules. Besides, the kids should know what love looks like. High expectations are good expectations, in your opinion.

The moment is interrupted by your phone ringing in your office down the hall and you quickly take a step back. With the tributes already in the Capitol, you couldn't afford to miss a call. Anything could happen- you know that story well.

"I'm sorry, I need to get that." You say and he nods as you turn to the kids. "Lux, Gem, come on. Time to go."

"Mum!" Regan whines, stomping her foot down as she always tended to do. "We just got here, can't we stay a few more minutes?"

"No, Regan. Out. Come on." You motion for them to come and they do, but your daughter in particular looks extremely unpleased as she stomps past you and out the door while Regulus follows with his hands tucked in his pockets. You turn off the light and lock the door.

"Okay, I'll see you at home tonight. Yes?" You kiss your husbands cheek and he smiles, giving you another quick kiss before you disappear into your office and shut the door behind you.

You take the call, and of course it was nothing of importance. So many things had to be run by you as head gamemaker that they felt it necessary to call and confirm the contents of what would be fed to the tributes. It never ended.

You don't even get the time to process where you had left off with your work before you're overwhelmed by voices. Your name being yelled by your husband accompanied by screaming, horrified pained screaming- which you quickly identify as coming from Regan. Your motherly instincts kick in before you even know it and you're throwing your door back open and are standing in the hall.

Coryo rushes out of the elevator with your daughter in his arms, his eyes wide as he moves quickly toward you. "It bit her! Something bit her- I don't know, I-"

You nod; there's no time for questions. "Okay, get her to the exam room." Moving as quickly as possible down the hall, you're grabbing at her little red blazer and pulling the sleeves up as she keeps screaming bloody murder.

You shove the door open and rush inside, for the first time noticing Regulus following behind you. You grab his shirt and pull him in while Coryo quickly lays her on the table. Even in the panic, you couldn't leave him unsupervised anywhere in the lab. Especially if something had escaped.

"Get her top unbuttoned, I'll need her arm free!" You tell Coryo as you shuffle around through the cupboard quickly trying to find everything you were looking for. A syringe, the antidote for whatever it may be. You don't even know. Glancing over your shoulder, her skin looks flushed with red patches showing up on her neck and face; but it could just be from crying.

Coryo's hands are shaking as his daughter continues to scream and cry in his face, making it harder for him to get her blazer off and unbutton her top. "You're going to be okay, darling. Shh, shh... Mum's gonna help." All he can think about while he pulls off her blazer and frees her arms from the little blue shirt is the time that he saw Clemensia Dovecote get bit by one of Gaul's snakes. He thought she was dead, and she walked out of the hospital wishing that she was. She never recovered- but she was quickly given treatment. Much quicker than his seven-year-old daughter, who is also significantly smaller than his friend was at the time.

"What was it? Did you see what it was?" You ask in a panic, bringing over a box and flinging it open next to her on the table.

"I didn't see it! I just saw-"

"It was a mouse." Regulus says, and Coryo turns to him with wide eyes. Luckily, you're all action and you're already filling the syringe with something that should counteract whatever effects the mouse's bite could have on her while he stares at his son. He looks calm, watching the scene with a tilted head. "It was just a mouse, Daddy."

Coryo looks away, grabbing Regan's hand and squeezing it. He didn't have the chance to tell you that whatever it was, apparently this "mouse", had been dropped down the back of Regan's shirt by her brother as soon as the elevator began to lift them. He had done it on purpose. Though, he couldn't have known what was wrong with the creature.

"This is just gonna be a pinch, Gem. Try and take a deep breath for me..." You tell her as you squeeze her arm. She makes no effort to do so, but knowing that the mice were only being designed to cause pain, it didn't surprise you.

"There you go, good girl..." Coryo coos at her as you just as quickly remove the needle, quickly disposing of it as he brushes her hair back from where it clung to her face. Immediately he can see the blood returning to her face, and she's still crying but whatever it was you gave her must have helped with the pain instantly.

"She'll be okay." You sigh in relief, rejoining his side and lifting Regan up so she's sitting. "Can you hold her? I just need to find the bite."

Coryo sits on the table, lifting her into his lap as you look over her arms and ankles. "It's on her back." He tells you, repositioning her carefully so you could see. She wasn't screaming anymore, just sniffling with eyes drooping shut.

You furrow your brow, stepping to his other side to get a look at it, seeing the small swelling area at the top of her back. You grab some disinfectant to quickly clean it before you dress it properly. "What happened?" You ask. "Did she fall?" It was unclear to you how she could have been bitten in such a place without being on the ground.

Coryo doesn't say anything, shifting his gaze over to Regulus again. He's watching you closely and how you're treating the bite, eyes trained on your gloved hands.

When your husband doesn't answer you immediately you look up at him again, and then follow his eyes to your son. "What did you do?" You ask him, plastering the gauze onto your daughter's back.

"I just wanted to know what would happen, Mummy." He says simply.

"You knew what would happen, Lux. I've told you so many times not to touch anything. That it's not safe, and one of you could get hurt." You frown, packing up your first aid kit before going over to him, and kneeling down in front of the blonde boy. "I know you're interested in what I do, and I love that, but if you have questions you have to ask. Not do experiments yourself."

You grab his arms to get him to look at you again. "Hey, I'm not mad at you." You say softly. "I just need you to be careful. You're smarter than this."

He nods, wrapping his arms around your neck and hugging you. You sigh as you hug him back. "You can't hurt your sister, darling. We're a team. Do you understand?"

"I do. It was just a mouse, I didn't think it would be that bad. I'm sorry." He agrees quietly, eyes still locked on his sister as his dad cradles her gently in his arms. She's passed out against his chest, holding her as close as he possibly can.

He shakes his head at his son, trying to display his clear disappointment. It would quickly be noticed if his daughter, the President's daughter, fell ill, and he knew he would have to jump through hoops to cover up her recovery and that the very reason for it was her own brother.

Regulus Snow was his mother's son, and Coriolanus didn't believe his apology one bit.

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[munson-blurbs]

Argyle x Fem!Reader smut

Summary: Your plans tonight only involve ordering a pizza, but a conversation with the pizza boy has you craving something very different.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), phone sex, masturbation (m! and f!), voice kink, Argyle is a simp as per usual

WC: 1.7k

A/N: This was inspired by me and @word-wytch ordering pizza at Steel City Con where the pizza boy did not want to get off of the phone. Nothing spicy happened, but it made us think...what if it had?

Also, big shout out to @munsonmuses for helping me with the ending. Love you, Addie!

--

“Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Argyle speaking. Can I interest you in a delicious pie? Perhaps the Argyle Special?”

You stare at the shiny brochure in your lap, breath catching in your throat when you hear his voice. You were expecting someone brusque, rushing you off of the line so they can collect the next order, but the man speaking to you might as well be laying on a white sand beach. 

“Um, h-hi,” you wince at the way you stammer, tempted to hang up and save yourself further embarrassment, but you keep the receiver pressed to your ear. Lenora Hills is a fresh start, a place where no one knows you, and you’re determined to spread your wings and become more than the ‘shy, awkward girl.’ So, even though you were going to order a small cheese pie, you push yourself to ask, “what’s the Argyle Special?”

Soft laughter trills from the speaker; it’s warm and welcoming without a hint of malice. “Oh, the Argyle Special? She’s kinda my baby.” Good lord, the way he says baby has your thighs clenching involuntarily. You hear him shuffling a bit, adjusting positions to get more comfortable. “So, we start out with your classic thin crust.” Argyle lowers his voice and adds, “You might think you can toss it in the air a coupla times and call it a day, but you’d be wrong. You gotta knead it, get all the kinks out, right?”

“Mhm.” Your free hand begins to dip below the waistband of your denim shorts before you pull back. What are you doing? Touching yourself to a stranger explaining how to make pizza? “I, uh, I gotta—”

“Next comes the sauce,” he continues, not noticing your interjection. “Now, less is definitely more here, y’know what I’m saying? A little goes a long way.”

You nod, too caught up in the moment to remember that he can’t see you. “A-And then what?”

“Cheese. Enough to achieve that perfect amount of gooey goodness, but not so much that it weighs down the slice.” Another peal of laughter, just as kind as the one earlier. “Some people ask for extra cheese, but in my humble opinion, it takes away from the rest of the toppings, y’know?”

There’s a quiet swishing sound coming from his end, and it draws your attention. “What’re you doing that’s making that noise?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yo-yo.” Your question has clearly caught him off-guard; instead of further explaining his baby, he asks, “what’re you doing?”

Immediately, your thoughts flit to the way your fingers yearn to be inside you, the way your clit aches to be rubbed each time he talks. But he can’t know that. “N-Nothing. Um, yeah, nothing.”

You can practically hear his brows raise in disbelief. “Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Argyle teases gently. “In fact, it sounds like you’re doing something important.” He pauses for a second. “Lemme guess: top secret CIA mission?”

“No.”

“FBI?”

You giggle despite the embarrassment washing over you. “Not quite.”

There’s silence; his audible breathing is the only way you know he’s still on the line. “You got a really cute laugh.” 

Is he flirting? This is flirting; it has to be. But he doesn’t even know what you look like. 

You don’t know what he looks like, either, and you were about to masturbate to him, you remind yourself wryly. Anything’s possible. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Sweet but also sexy. A rare combo, if you ask me.” 

You summon all of your courage; the ball is in your court. “I, um, I like your voice.” Heat pools in your cheeks as you say the words. 

“My voice? Shit, I always thought it was kinda goofy. My friend Jonathan says I sound like Cheech and Chong. Well, not, like, both of them, but just…one.” A rustling noise; he’s shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m not good with getting compliments and stuff.”

“S’okay. Me either.” You laugh again, finding the ability to be honest refreshing. “Keep telling me about your special. Your baby,” you amend. 

He exhales a cloud of lust. “Fuck, say ‘baby’ again.” Ah, so it had the same effect on him that it did on you. 

This time, you don’t chastise yourself for the way your fingertips graze your cotton panties. You and Argyle are clearly on the same page. Why fight it? “Tell me more about the Argyle Special, baby.”

“I gotta know first if you’re doing what I’m about to do,” he says breathily. 

“I am,” you affirm, finding your clit easily and applying the lightest pressure. 

A sharp inhale, then, just above a whisper, “Good. So, so good.” He unzips his fly and groans as his hand wraps around his cock. “I’m just gonna talk, and you keep touching yourself for me, okay?”

“Mhm. Just…keep going.”

“Shit, yeah, I got you.” Another moan as he strokes himself, his sentences getting choppier. “The toppings…I like to combine sweet and—mmf—savory.”

You tug your panties aside, slipping your middle finger into your waiting pussy. “Keep going,” you urge, desperate for his silky voice. 

“Some diced g-green pepper…sliced jalapeños…and…” Argyle’s focus is split between listing ingredients and jerking off, and one is evidently winning. 

“And what, baby?” There’s a slight edge to your tone—dare you say, a sultriness—as your ring finger joins your middle, fucking yourself with both of them. 

You’re not the only one who picks up on your newfound confidence. “And pineapple,” he manages. “Comes from a can…fuck, I can hear how wet you are.”

You whimper, forcing air into your lungs. Breathing has never been a manual task until right now. “It’s because of you.” Your fingers move faster; you curl them slightly to maximize your pleasure. “You and your voice.”

“I’d talk all goddamn day for you.” His voice is thick with desire. “I’d do anything you asked me to—oh, fuck,” he grunts. “What would you want me to do if I was with you right now?”

What wouldn’t you want him to do is an easier question, but you try to quickly formulate a response. “I-I’d want you to touch me.”

“More specific, honey,” he tuts. “Where do you want me touching you?”

Everywhere. Anywhere. You think about where your own hand would be if you weren’t holding the phone. “My clit,” you say urgently, “or my…my tits.”

“Mmm, I could put my mouth on one and my fingers on the—”

“No,” you insist, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Fingers only. Need to keep your mouth free so you can talk.”

A chuckle, then, “fair enough. Guess I’ll rub that pretty little clit of yours, huh? Make sure you’re ready f’me.” There’s a soft puh as he spits on his cock to lubricate it. “Wish I was inside of you. Bet you’re so wet…and warm…and—ohh, yeah— so tight…”

“I’m so close,” you whine, absolutely desperate for this orgasm. You tuck the phone between your ear and your shoulder, bring your newly-freed middle finger to your clitoris, now swollen with need. “Please, Argyle, tell me how you’d fuck me.”

“Oh, baby,” he rasps, the schlick of his fist stroking his erection becomes louder, faster. “I want you screaming my name. That sweet little pussy st-stuffed with my cock. And I’ll go deeper…and deeper…and deeper…until you can’t—fucking—take it!” He growls out the last four words. 

It’s enough to drive you to the edge. You don’t tell him you’re cumming, but he knows just from the choked moans that you’re there. Your fingers are shiny with the proof of your arousal as you finish all over them, wishing they belonged to Argyle. Wishing you belonged to Argyle. 

“I’m cumming, fucking shit, h-oh, my God.” He’s in another galaxy now, stars swirling around him as his release spurts from his aching tip and coats his hand in his sticky seed. “Holy fuckin’…whoa.” There’s a brief pause. “Gimme one sec, okay?”

Argyle’s racing across the kitchen, phone dangling from the cord, before you can even respond. “Sorry,” he says, panting and laughing when he returns to the receiver, “had to grab some paper towels and clean myself up. Can’t go walking around with jizz on my hands.” 

“Not a good look,” you agree, the warmth from your giggle melting any residual awkwardness. “You definitely need to wash them, like, a hundred times before you make another pizza.”

“Nah, man; I’m actually clocking out now. You were gonna be my last customer, but, uh…” he trails off, and it occurs to you that you never finished placing your order. “We got a little distracted.”

Distracted is putting it mildly, but you’re in no headspace for a semantics debate. “I guess I’ll have to call back the next time you’re working and try again.”

“Y-Yeah, for sure!” Eagerness dominates his tone, and he tries to rein it in. “Or, um, maybe you can come by in person? I’d like to see the girl who made me cum harder than I have since…ever,” he adds cheekily. 

“Mhm. I can do that.” Can you? Yes, you tell yourself, I can. I’m turning over a new leaf, and that apparently involves having phone sex with the pizza guy and then meeting him for the first time at his job. 

You swear you hear a quiet yet triumphant, “yes!” before he says, “You sure? Because I’d totally get it if you wanted to keep this a one-time thing.” His hesitation indicates that he’s no stranger to unrequited pining, like he’s bracing himself for a rejection. “But I gotta be honest with you; I really wanna see you.”

“I wanna see you, too.” You wrap the springy cord around your forefinger. If his voice could make you feel this way, imagine what he could do with his fingers, his tongue, his…

“I work from noon until six tomorrow, if you wanna stop in?” Argyle cuts into your train of thought. “Or if that’s too soon, then we can just—”

“Argyle?”

“Yeah?”

You smile widely even though there’s no way for him to know that. “See you at six tomorrow.”

--

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Two

Part One

Have I already posted something today? Yes, yes I have but also I finally got through my block on this one hfjdks

I'll be working on Addams Family Steddie next but idk when that part might be coming out lol

anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Steve has taken over Eddie's large porcelain bathtub after it was moved to the main room of the captain's cabin. Steve is lounging in it now, a week into being on Eddie's ship, with his tail draped over the edge so he can submerge his head and breathe through his gills. It's infinitely more comfortable, even with the seaweed still wrapped along the length of his tail and reminding him of its presence with every twitch.

He sighs, bubbles rising from his gills in the "I'm beyond bored" pattern that Robin would light up at seeing. But she's not here, so Steve is left to once again turn Eddie's bat ring over in his hands, fingers brushing along the wings.

Eddie had shown him a drawing of an actual bat, and Steve still thinks they're freaks of nature. But he finds the ring itself a little endearing if only because it was Eddie's ring willingly given.

He smiles softly, the gesture only dampened by the sharp jab of worry over his guppies and Robin. They're probably losing their scales with worry themselves, scouring the sea and putting themselves at risk of being seen in their hunt for him. Steve can't even fault them, either; he would do the exact same thing if Robin or any of his guppies had been captured like that. He has done the exact same thing.

Steve sighs again, this time the bubble pattern expressing exhaustion and "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He kind of misses having someone who actually understands what his bubble patterns mean, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to get frustrated with anyone for their inability to gain meaning from bubbles floating toward the surface.

He thinks, maybe, the worst part is being confined to the tub. Sure, it's infinitely better than the fucking bucket from the other ship, but Steve is still getting restless. He's like a guppy that's watching its siblings swim but still doesn't have the tail strength to swim itself. He feels trapped and has way too much energy with nowhere to spend it.

Steve hasn't mentioned this to Eddie, though. He'd been planning to, of course. In fact, he intended to tell Eddie that morning, but then they'd docked at some port city and Eddie had run off with the promise of being back soon. Steve had tried not to feel a little abandoned, left by himself with fucking nothing to do while Eddie prances around on land.

Before he can get too far into this line of thought (he's about three minutes from convincing himself that, really, Eddie shouldn't have left and could probably be taught the basics of bubble patterns as punishment), Eddie practically barrels into the room, vibrating with something Steve only recognizes as excitement when he sees Eddie's grin.

Steve surfaces, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning on the edge of the tub, twitching his tail slightly and exercising incredible control to keep from preening when Eddie's gaze lingers on it. "What happened?" he asks, slipping the bat ring onto his thumb, the only finger it fits.

Eddie drops to his knees, scooting closer to the tub until their noses are almost brushing. "I've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he says, voice light and eager.

"Where is it?" Steve asks, returning Eddie's smile.

"It's on the deck! Do you trust me?"

For a brief moment, Steve thinks Eddie is about to throw him back into the ocean. Which, like, wouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve would be incredibly offended by the suddenness and wonder if he'd been imagining the draw between them.

But he's sure Eddie wouldn't do something like that without asking first, so he tucks it away as something only slightly possible. Steve nods and pulls back, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub before pushing himself up. He perches on the edge, his balance a little unsteady as he looks at Eddie.

Thankfully, Eddie catches on quickly. He scrambles to his feet and scoops Steve off the edge of the tub, one arm under his tail and the other wrapped around Steve's back. Steve holds onto Eddie's neck, still a little paranoid about being dropped despite Eddie's prior insistence that he wouldn't let anything happen to Steve.

"I think you're gonna love it," Eddie says, his voice soft and his breath warm against Steve's cheek.

Steve gets the urge to ask again, but he holds back as Eddie carries him up to the deck. The sky is covered in clouds, keeping the sun from blinding him when they emerge from the stairs. The deck is concerningly large for such a small crew, and Gareth is currently lounging against the mast, a hat pulled low over his eyes as he sleeps.

He's not very attention-grabbing, though. Not when there's a large...contraption in the middle of the deck. It has four wheels and is shaped like a boat, big enough for Steve to sit comfortably without his tail draping over the edge. There are cranks of some kind on the inside of the boat, and Steve realizes it's filled with water as Eddie carries him closer.

"What is this?" Steve asks, trying not to grimace at the discomfort of his scales beginning to dry out. They're starting to feel tight and itchy, a sensation he really hates, like they're going to split apart at any second.

Eddie grins wider and carefully sets Steve into the water, making sure he doesn't bump the tail or the seaweed wraps. He points at the crank to Steve's left and says, "That will make the back wheels turn. If you crank forward, you'll go forward, and back will make you go backward." He then points to the other crank by Steve's right. "This one controls the front wheels. Forward will make them turn left, and backward will make them turn right. You should be able to move around the deck with this."

Steve stares at the cranks for a moment before glancing up at Eddie. When he receives an encouraging nod in response, he slowly turns the left crank forward, lighting up when the boat does, in fact, move forward a few inches.

He's so overwhelmed with joy that he can't help the notes bubbling in his throat, rising and rising until he can't hold them back anymore. Steve doesn't even think before singing, a wordless tune that conveys just how truly happy he is, one that would leave Robin flabbergasted because she's never heard this tune before.

Because this tune is for courting gifts. Like, really fucking fantastic courting gifts. The kind of gifts that blow everything else clear out of the water and leave a merperson dazed and bubbly and floating without any direction from sheer happiness, bubbles bursting through their gills in joyous patterns.

Steve has never sung this tune before, but he's not at all surprised that Eddie is the person who managed to coax it out of him.

-----

Eddie knew the boat would be a good idea, but now he's thinking it was the best idea he's ever had and ever will. Even after hours have passed, after Steve has watched the sun drop below the water and asked Eddie to carry him back to the cabin, complaining about his arms being sore from turning cranks, Eddie is still reeling.

He's never heard a more beautiful sound. Eddie keeps replaying the tune Steve sang in his head, frustrated with his inability to recreate it just right and too flustered to ask Steve to sing it again. Because he gets the feeling it was special, something that Steve can't just do at the drop of a hat, but something he did because of Eddie.

Eddie twists his fingers in the sheet covering him, turning his head to glance at the tub where Steve is leaning against the edge. His eyes are closed, but Eddie knows he isn't sleeping yet. Steve submerges his head when he sleeps.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie whispers, almost like he doesn't want Steve to hear so the comfortable silence continues.

Steve hears him anyway, of course, the flare of fin along the edge of his ear twitching slightly. He tilts his head a bit more, squishing his cheek against his arm, and somewhat lazily says, "Yeah, Eddie?"

Eddie turns onto his side, meeting Steve's gaze. "How'd you become a caretaker?" he asks. It's not the question he actually wants to ask; he wants to ask Steve to sing again, to let him drift to sleep to beautiful notes and lingering melodies.

He watches as Steve tenses slightly before forcing himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, his gills fluttering slightly before slowly exhaling. "A while ago, my pod had an...altercation with a pod from the southern seas. They kidnapped one of the guppies, Will, and the other guppies decided to rescue him. They snuck off one night and I followed them when I discovered what happened and..."

Steve trails off, frowning as he tilts his head to look at the small window, staring at the moon through the glass. "Well, long story short, there were lots of fights, our pod lost its previous caretaker, and we gained a new guppy the southern pod had captured. After everything, I couldn't let the guppies out of my sight, and they kept coming to me and Robin whenever they had problems. So, eventually, I just convinced Robin to be my partner and raise the guppies."

There's a lot going unsaid in that explanation, but Eddie knows better than to pry right now. Steve will tell him when he wants, and if he never wants to, that's fine, too. Eddie won't fault him for that. "Did you have a job before that?" he asks.

Steve hums softly, still beautiful and soft, but not at all the melody Eddie really wants to hear. "I used to scout for the pod," he says, "I would swim ahead and make sure an area was safe or find spots to rest when the pod traveled. When we stopped for long periods, I'd help gather food for the pod."

"You like caring for the guppies more," Eddie says, and it's not at all a question.

"Yeah," Steve replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The guppies are great."

"Tell me about them."

"Well, first is Dustin. He's a little sea urchin, always talking back and getting into trouble, but he's sweet. Will is usually pretty quiet, but he's got a great imagination. Mike always hangs around Will, and he's kind of a squid, but he's going through an awkward growth phase. Lucas is the most active of them, and he likes to shadow the scouters when he can. Erica is his little sister, and she doesn't let the others get away with anything. Max is daring and brash, she tends to dive head-first into stuff, but she's also really protective. El is quiet like Will, but she's really smart and really caring. They're such a handful. Robin and I never have a dull day."

His voice is trailing off toward the end, and Eddie knows he's just moments from falling asleep. "I'd like to meet them someday," Eddie says, his voice softer than before, the words spoken more to himself than Steve.

Of course, that doesn't stop Steve from hearing him anyway. He hums again, this one quieter, and groggily mumbles, "Of course you will, Eddie. That's part of the courting."

And then, like he hasn't essentially rocked Eddie's entire world, Steve slips down in the tub. He submerges his head in the water, and Eddie can hear the quiet murmur of bubbles rising to the surface and popping as Steve breathes.

Eddie stays frozen for a few minutes, staring at the tub, and suddenly wondering if, maybe, somebody somewhere happened to write a merperson courtship manual.

Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense

[katiefrog217]

...

Hello everyone! What's it been like, a week since I last properly posted something? That's my bad. I've really wanted to draw but if you can still believe it, my hand(s) are still recovering, and I was trying forced to take a break.

Am trying to get back into drawing bit by bit, and also trying to settle my style with the Ineffables.

As practice, I drew a more modern humanoid form for the both of them, as sort of a modern day take on their (rough) Eden Designs.

I don't want to info dump everything in this post, as I hope to one day make a Master Post for this AU, but here are some tidbits:

It's uncomfortable for a dragon to maintain a fully human looking form, though it's not impossible. Both Crowley and Azi compensate with accessories.

The longer a Celestial/Demonic Dragon spends on Earth, the more they have the urge to Hoard (usually something of their interest). Azi's is his books and bookshop, while Crowely's revolves around fashion and accessories (usually star related).

Crowley has a massive collection of pins and cufflinks revolving around constellations. The ones he's wearing here are Serpens and Leo - thought his other favorite combo is Corvus and Columba (honorable mentions go to Centaurus and Draco).

Azi's ear cuffs are Winged Serpents.

In Dragon AU, Crowley tends to wear more long styles than short.

Crowley wears his scales out for the aesthetic.

Alright, I think those are the main points for now, but if you are at all curious, feel free to Send Me An Ask! I'd love to answer questions on this au!

If you want to see their Dragon Forms, check HERE.

[prythianpages]

Stuck on You | Part One

cassian x reader, series masterlist | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

A/N: this was entirely inspired by the scene above from Lilo & Stitch and I thought it was so fitting for Cas. this was also supposed to be a one shot but I decided to incorporate more scenes from the movie and thought it'd be best to split it into 4 parts.

Warnings: some smut, some fluff, mild angst but this part is mainly smut lol (p in v, oral m receiving)

Amidst the Windhaven camp, a bonfire roared to life. The scent of wood smoke mingled with the rich aroma of roasting meat. Warriors, adorned in armor and draped in furs, gathered in a circle around the fire along with their fellow Illyrians, their laughter and cheers echoing through the night.

Cassian was among them, a soothing cup of ale in his hands. Azriel and Rhysand were seated on either side of him. They had chosen to celebrate the end of the War in Windhaven with the warriors they had grown up with and fought beside.

Sparks leapt from the heart of the bonfire, joining the constellation of stars overhead and Cassian’s eyes tracked their movement.  The air pulsed with the primal beat of drums, setting the rhythm for the celebration that unfolded and when Cassian’s gaze dropped back again, his eyes fell upon you.

He was struck by your beauty–from your hair, your smile, your eyes and the way the red dress you wore clung to your every curve, drawing attention to the perfect swell of your breasts. He could feel desire pooling within him and a sudden urge to get to know you.

He was on his feet in an instant, ignoring Rhysand’s remark of annoyance as the future high lord had been talking to him moments prior. It didn’t matter to him. He had stopped paying attention to his friend the moment his eyes landed on you.

You were laughing at something your friend had said when he approached you. Your back was turned to him but a not so subtle incline of your friend’s head with a devious smile had you turning around. 

When you finally turned around, your eyes finally locked with his and a small gasp escaped from you. It was as if time itself paused and he wondered if you could also feel that pull, a magnetic force almost pulsing and pulling him close to you.

“Hello,” he greeted with a devilishly handsome smile, pulling you out of your daze. “Can I offer you a drink?”

He caught the way your gaze had flickered down to your occupied hand and when he had tracked the movement, he cursed himself. It had been awhile since he approached a woman he found interest in and he found himself out of practice. He could hear Rhysand and Azriel snickering behind him, even though they were many feet away. His hands were braced behind his back and he sent his friends a vulgar gesture.

“I have one in my hand right now.” You replied, bringing your cup of ale up to show him. He sensed your gaze lingering on him, a silent exploration that traversed every inch of his form with a subtle hint of admiration and then you were chugging the remnants of the amber liquid until there was nothing left behind. He was both impressed and touched.

 Your lips curled up into a sheepish grin. “But I believe it’s time for another.”

Cassian’s smile widened and then he was asking for your name.

**

Cassian spent most of the night by your side,captivated by you. He learned what made you smile, what made you laugh and found that he enjoyed those reactions out of you more than he had expected.  To his pleasant surprise, you did not ask him about the war as many others had earlier in the night, regardless of the siphons and leathers he wore. Instead, you asked him about himself and he found that the two of you had many common interests. He also learned that although you had no wings, you were Illyrian partly from your mother, who had you out of wedlock with a high fae. He had felt a tang of sympathy deep within his chest when you mentioned that due to your half breed and bastard status, you were not perceived well by the camp. He knew that feeling all too well. 

“Dance with me?” He asked, taking your hand in his and effortlessly intertwining his fingers with yours. It was a bold move–a smooth attempt to touch you– and it sent your heart fluttering.

You agreed to his offer with a nod, allowing him to pull you up from your seat. Before the two of you joined the other dancing Illyrians, you drained your cups of ale, the alcohol casting a sweet haze over your minds.

As the bonfire came to an end, its dying embers casting a fading glow, a sense of dread settled over him. He didn’t want the night to end. There was still so much more he yearned to discover about you. Such as what you'd sound like, all the noises you'd make, moaning and whimpering for him.

The glimmer in your eyes spoke volumes and he sensed an echo of his own sentiments reflected in your gaze. You shivered and whether it was from Cassian’s sultry gaze or the slight breeze, you were uncertain. Cassian picked up on the small movement. “Are you cold?”

“Yes.” You answered coyly, a light blush tinting your cheeks.

His hazel eyes gleamed with a mischievous mirth as he leaned down to be closer to you, his warm breath fanning your face. “I happen to know a few ways I can warm you up.” 

That’s how the two of you ended up, deep within the forest of Windhaven, with your back pressed against a tree as his lips captured yours in a hungry and feverish kiss. You reciprocated, your mouth moving against his, hot and desperate. He slid his tongue in your mouth and your fingers wove through the elastic holding up his hair, yanking it and relishing in the way his luscious hair was now free to run your fingers through as he continued to explore your mouth. You sucked on the wet muscle, eliciting a delicious groan from him.

“Let me hear you, too.” He rasped as he pulled away, desperate to taste every inch of you. His lips found your neck, licking and sucking on a spot that had you moaning and arousal pooling down below.

His hand found the back of your knee and gave a light tap. You complied with his silent request, wrapping one leg around his waist and pressing him further into you. Warmth flooded the both of you as you could feel his hardened length against your clothed core.

Your dress had hiked up your thigh and Cassian pushed it further up, allowing it to pool at your hips. His fingers found the spot you craved him the most and took pleasure in the way you were already dripping for him when he had barely touched you. His fingers were pushing your underwear aside and you let out another whimper as he pressed a thumb against your sensitive clit.

“Louder.” He murmured against your neck and once again, you followed his command, your moans growing louder as he began to thrust his fingers into you.

But you were keen on hearing more of him, too.

Your hands reached for his leathers, palming him before your fingers danced over his clasp. Cassian must’ve sensed your struggle. His movements halted for a brief moment and he helped you. When his cock sprang free, your eyes darkened and mouth watered at the sight of him. He was big, bigger than you had ever taken. You felt your core ache, wondering if he’d even fit in you, and you were suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to find out. You wanted to touch him, taste him, feel all of him.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his head falling back. Your hand wrapped around his length, barely able to reach around him and his eyes screwed shut as you began to move. “Fuck, just like that, baby.”

Cassian was too lost in the pleasure of your hand. You gave him a firm squeeze that had his hips jerking and when your thumb swept over his tip, he was spilling into your hand and onto your thigh. His eyes were open in an instant, widening in shock. His cheeks tinted in embarrassment.  Never in his life had he cum so fast.

“Shit, I’m so sorry–”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him with a gentle giggle. 

Amid the pleasure flooding through him, he also felt a wave of relief, seeing no trace of disappointment etched onto your features. Instead, there was a devious spark in your eyes as you brought your hand to your mouth and licked your fingers clean. Cassian’s sensitive cock throbbed at the lewd gesture and when you opened your mouth to speak, you stole the words he had planned to say next right from his mouth: 

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Cassian’s hazel eyes clouded with lust as you dropped to your knees before him, taking his throbbing cock into your hand again. He was already half hard. He was used to being the one in control when it came to sex but for just this moment, he decided to allow you to have control, already planning on ways to return the favor.

Your eyes locked with his as you licked a long and slow stripe up the underside of his length. Your tongue curled against his tip, savoring the remnants of his cum with a hum that sent delightful vibrations through him. He was a moaning and whimpering mess when you finally took him into your mouth. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand and you made sure to praise him for it, using your hands to work the rest of his sinful length.

"You look so pretty with my cock down your throat."

Cassian’s hand was gripping your hair, holding you in place as he bucked into you and you swallowed him down greedily. “Oh fuck,” he panted, the muscle in his thighs shifting as he felt his stomach tighten and then he was abruptly pulling you away.

As much as he would love to spill into that lovely mouth of yours, knowing you would eagerly swallow every drop, he refused to come undone again. At least not before he settled the score between you both.

“Get up.” He growled.

When you rose to your feet, he wasted no time in unlacing the back of your dress and stripping you from your undergarments, craving to have you bare before him as he rid himself of his leathers. His eyes raked over your body as he backed you against the tree, pupils flaring when they landed on your breasts. His hand reached out to give one a squeeze before rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching, while his mouth claimed your other one.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He muttered against your breast, tongue flicking over your nipple.

“Then, fuck me.”

A deep, guttural growl escaped from him at your request. He needed you and he needed you now. His lips curled into a smirk and by the look in his eyes, you knew you would pay for your bossy tone. Your thighs clenched in anticipation. 

“Gladly.”

His hands were gripping you firmly as he turned you around, roughly pressing your front against the tree. His leg tapped against your knee, prompting you to arch your back and spread your legs further for him. You were soaked for him, arousal dripping from that pretty cunt of yours. He gripped his aching cock and without warning, thrusted into you, a gasp escaping from both of your lips at the rough intrusion.

Pain and pleasure rippled through your body. You’d never felt so stretched, so full and still, you wanted more.

“Gods,” you breathed, whimpering when he began to slowly pull out only to slam into you again. 

Cassian hissed as your walls fluttered around him. He was thrusting into you, fast and hard, filling the air with your slick and wet noises. He took pleasure in the way you had to brace yourself against the tree, the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. He brought one hand up to knead the soft flesh again while the other yanked on your hair, pulling you flush against his warm and sweaty chest.  

“So fucking good f’me.” He praised you, panting and grunting into your ear. The hand that gripped your hair was now trailing down, his fingers rubbing against your clit, making your eyes roll back at the immense pleasure building up and tightening in your stomach. “Taking me so well.”

“Cassian.” 

“Say my name again.” He pounded into you mercilessly, thrusts growing harder as he found the spot that had your toes curling.

“Cassian.”

 “That’s right, baby. I want you to know that only I can fuck you like this. Only I can make you feel this good. You’re going to remember my name forever.”

"Yes, yes, yes."

His words were your undoing and had you clenching around his length with a cry as your orgasm washed over you. His thrusts grew erratic and you knew he was close. 

“Where can I cum?” His voice was desperate, carrying an urgent plea.

Your senses were clouded with his kisses against your neck and his breathy noises but you knew what he was asking. You were on the tonic so you arched yourself further and with a shaky voice said: “Inside me.”

“M’ gunna fill you up so good.” He told you as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly, his fingers still toying with your sensitive clit, blurring your vision with tears.

“Please.”

Your legs were trembling and you squeezed around his cock so hard, it had him stilling inside you as another orgasm washed over you. His hips pressed against your ass, hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure there’d be bruises as he followed after you. He spilled into you, thick ropes of cum painting your walls with a deep roaring groan.  The two of you remained still, your back pressed against his chest for a moment, basking in the aftermath of pleasure.

When he finally pulled out and released his grip on you, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as your legs gave out. His strong, muscled arms reached out to steady you and guide you to face him once more. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips, a stark contrast to the way he had fucked you, before he dropped to his knees before you. He splayed a large hand against your abdomen to hold you steady.

You arched a brow at him, your chest heaving as you panted, still recovering from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. "What--what are you--"

“I'm not done with you yet, Sweetheart.” He grinned up at you, wrapping one of your legs around his shoulder. “It’s my turn to have a taste.”

**

Seven years later…

“And that was the best night of my life.” Cassian said with a sigh as he remembered all the pretty sounds he drew out from you that night. 

You were so beautiful, so perfect. He had never felt so much pleasure with someone the way he did with you. He had intended to ruin you for other men but instead, you had ruined him. He wondered if you still thought of him as he did of you, if you still remembered him even.

“Yes, we know.” Azriel replied, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance. 

“Should I be offended?” Mor quipped but there was no semblance of hurt or hard feelings in her features.

“We’ve heard this story so many times.” Amren grumbled, her arms crossed against her chest.

“If I had a sip for every time he brought up this female, I think I’d be a lot more tipsy than I am right now.” Rhysand muttered, glaring at the amber liquid in his glass.

"Her name is y/n," Cassian rolled his eyes with an amused grin. “Besides, you guys are the ones that suggested this drinking game.”

“Yes.” Rhysand nodded with an almost regretful tone. It was actually him who had been the one to pick the game of the night.  “And the question had been, do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Same thing.” Cassian replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Cover up, will you?” Amren’s sharp voice had Cassian’s eyes widening. She threw a pillow harshly at him before he could even blink. He placed it over the growing tent in his leathers and her nostrils flared. “Gods, I can smell you too, you horny wretch.”

“If she was such a great fuck, I don’t know why you didn’t ask her out.” Rhysand spoke next and Mor nodded her head in agreement.

“She left right after, remember?” Cassian replied, tone laced with exasperation as he dragged a rugged hand down his face. He leaned back on the loveseat, smothering his wings in the process. “And how was I supposed to know she wasn’t from Windhaven?”

“You could’ve simply asked.” Azriel retorted with an amused expression on his face as he brought his glass to his lips.

“Perhaps, we should call it a night.” Rhysand said as he rose from his seat. He then looked at Cassian and Azriel. “Don’t want you two to show up to your assignment tomorrow with a raging hangover anyway.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Cassian grinned, standing up as well with the pillow still placed over his crotch.

“I need you two to be alert and ready to confront Kallon at Ironcrest.” Rhysand glared but there was amusement flickering within his eyes as he glanced toward the pillow. “So please make sure that is taken care of. I wouldn’t want the war lord’s son to think he gave you a raging boner.”

Azriel chuckled but it was short lived as Cassian hurled the pillow in his grasps at his face, taking delight in the way the pillow met its target precisely.

“Gross.” Mor couldn’t help but laugh.

**

The small tavern nestled within the heart of Ironcrest gave off a strangely and surprisingly inviting warmth. Dimly lit lanterns hung low, casting an amber glow that danced upon the aged wooden beams and worn floorboards. Wooden tables, scarred with the history of countless shared moments, were scattered throughout the room, each surrounded by mismatched chairs worn by the passage of time. The hum of hushed conversations and occasional laughter created a lively ambiance.

Azriel’s shadows dispersed from his limbs and silently scattered across the small tavern keen to relay any important information to their master. Meanwhile, Cassian’s eyes darted around the room as he found an empty table for them to sit at. Their visit with Kallon had been exhausting, to say the least.

Rhysand had sent them to assess the dissent simmering within the camp of Ironcrest. It appeared that the camp-lord’s son was growing mouthy and shamelessly voicing his disdain for Rhysand. They suspected that there was more to the situation at hand so after their meeting with Kallon, they decided to linger around the camp a while longer and when they found the tavern, they were eager to see if they’d pick up on any more details from the villagers.

Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed as he saw a little girl, finding it strange that she was alone in a place like this. He watched as the girl aggressively scribbled onto the notebook in front of her. Her small wings were tucked behind her and her lips were pursed in deep concentration. He couldn’t help but notice a familiarity in her eyes, the curve of her nose and lips but he was sure that he’d never seen this girl in his life before.

And then he saw you.

His breath hitched and he forced himself to blink because surely that wasn’t–couldn’t be you standing in front of the little girl. You were placing a plate of food in front of the little girl with a fond smile, reaching out to brush back a few stray hairs that had fallen from her braid. He took the both of you in, realizing why the little girl had seemed so familiar.

It was because she looked like you.

[series masterlist]

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Kinda oddly embarrassed to send this but oh my god your art is so pleasing to look at for some reason

I think it's just the soft shapes you use and how amazingly 3D everything tends to look?? Like the angles and proportions are just so perfect that I find it easy to imagine most of what you draw as a 3D model or something

And like I don't think I could nail it like you (maybe with time!!) But I am definitely taking inspiration from it because it DOES get me thinking about how you use shapes and angles and wonder if I could practice that because oh my god I wish I could absorb your art

Do you have methods or techniques to make it look so 3D? if you know what I mean? I tend to use grids to try and map out the shapes in a vaguely 3D plane, so I was wondering if you had tips kinda like that to share with the class? or if you're just winging it and it's a lot of practice?

Thank you so much!!! It really means a lot to me when others take inspiration from my art, it reminds me of all the artists I used to look up to and emulate when I was first starting out on MSPaint with a broken trackpad for a pen, you don’t have to be embarrassed! You’ll definitely be able to harness 3D space and create fantastic work, you’re already well on your way! Having passion and a desire to learn will take you far :)

My biggest focus whenever I draw is to make the characters feel real, as though you could reach out and enter the space they’re in to sit next to them on the couch. I’m so glad that I’m able to pull it off! Thanks for the rose, I’ll be sure to cherish it :)

As for my methods and techniques…

Drawing on a 3D grid plane is definitely something I do! Its perfect for comic panels or storyboards, to set the scene and ground characters or props to their environment.

I did a lot of classical study, that is life drawing and still life drawing, but simply using reference for buildings and anatomy also helps a lot and is a lot easier to find. I’d also sketch my hands, plastic animals, and my surroundings, as well as people watch for inspiration for character mannerisms or fashion. It’s useful to know a little bit about the inner workings of anatomy, as there are places were bone makes a person inflexible, while places with more muscle or fat are affected by things like gravity or pressure that change their shape. Drawing a flour sac to act out different emotions is a great way to practice weight and character acting!

Having studied animation, I did a lot of turnarounds to get characters consistent and able to be rotated in 3D space. It can be pretty tedious for some people, but it really does help solidify the characters’ shapes and design, and serves as great reference to look back on if you need it! If you don’t want to do something so stiff as a turnaround, simply drawing expressions and poses from dynamic angles helps too. I’ve found that breaking a character down into basic shapes that are easy to draw in a 3D plane also can help my anatomy and foreshortening be more accurate.

Most importantly, find something that brings you joy to draw! Every “traditional” method of study can be applied to things you like, so don’t feel the need to burn out thinking you can only draw the Mona Lisa or whatever. I’ve done anatomy studies on the Rise turtles to figure out their skeletal structure, and friends of mine have painted some mind blowing concept art inspired by Sonic and D&D!

I hope this helps some? Best of luck, and have fun! :D

Below are a couple of examples of some of my studies:

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

it hurts me. the chaggie hurts me s o good

Vaggie having been such a great murder soldier (one of the best exorcists) (battalions worth of dead souls piled under her lost wings)

but Protect Charlie and Support Charlie became so important to her (the revelation of reaching out to strangers to heal hurts instead of causing them) she for real got out of practice with actual physical fighting bc she was busy helping Charlie with the emotional battles instead-

it feels so good.

it's such a big and happy difference, from vaggie the exorcist

she's fighting for her girl every time she holds Charlie's hand and it's NOT what she's trained for or is always good at, solving people problems without just stabbing anyone who hurts Charlie or gets in Charlie's way- soldier life bleeding through even when Vaggie tries so hard- (a life lived with the kind of people who would use cutting out someone's eye and ripping off their wings as a solution to a problem)

but she says herself she wants to be Charlie's ARMOR. she could have said spear, could have said she wants to be the blade that cuts through all Charlie's problems-

she doesn't want that. Amor, something that stays close, something not meant to hurt, something that isn't a weapon. not anymore

even if it (she) isn't used to that yet

and you know what. maybe that's what getting saved by Charlie actually meant.

Charlie didn't pull her down from heaven- she wasn't the reason that Vaggie looked at a kid in hell and couldn't go through with sticking a spear in them

but without Charlie, Vaggie could still have been a spear raised and redirected towards heaven. even after years in a peaceful life Vaggie still reaches for her spear so quick, how fast on the draw would she've been if Charlie wasn't there? hadn't been there?

(if kindness hadn't pulled her out of that alleyway, would the chance for revenge at the next extermination day have gotten Vaggie moving instead? would the first dead angel have been found years earlier- or would it have been her- a loose end that didn't unravel quietly getting neatly cut away?)

that didn't happen. Charlie was out looking to help people on extermination day. she did find Vaggie

and with Charlie, the spear is a prop more than anything else. part of Vaggie yes, probably forever- not a NEEDED one though. an old instinct always at the ready while not having to be used much anymore.

life with Charlie is Vaggie carrying a spear, sure.... and also growing out her hair. not being used to fighting with it long, because she hasn't had to be fighting

she's still been able to fight for girlfriend anyway

Charlie isn't asking power or wins from her. that's not what the princess of hells needs.

Charlie needs the hand that holds hers during a hard call with her dad, the hug waiting for her when she comes back after a bad day, the soft smile not judging her for telling herself stories when she's sad- likes that side of her, actually-

the woman who knows every embarrassing personal thing about Charlie because Charlie trusted her not to make fun of it, trusted that Vaggie loved her

Charlie needs the push of Vaggie's words telling her it's time to make that hard call to her dad in the first place, the later unshakable reassurance from Vaggie when Charlie breaks down crying before the battle (breaking down over not being able give Angel Dust the better life she promised, everyone in even more danger now instead)

and Vaggie (pragmatic, realistic, honest Vaggie) does not tell her that things will be okay and they'll win their upcoming fight- but that Charlie has already done so much.

if for no one else, then at the very least for Vaggie

Charlie really has, hasn't she. 'just' by seeing Vaggie as a person she saved her from being nothing but a soldier, a weapon, the hair trigger response of someone who learned trust on a battle field and had her body torn and scarred by the people she trusted-

but now Vaggie does the worst damage to the people who hurt her when she holds her girlfriend's hand. she grumbles but gives people chances, often stressed but just as often smiling in her new life with Charlie. she goes back up to HEAVEN (even though she really really doesn't want to) because her girlfriend takes her hand and askes her with big soft eyes and says they're partners- it's such a change from being a soldier following orders.

partnership is all Charlie's asking for

and fucking HELL if Vaggie hasn't answered by being there in the darkest moments, tugging Charlie gently back into the light of their shared dreams and the reality of having someone there to share them with

and uh, also getting charlie to call her dad

....and.... yeeting random lit bombs out the nearest new hole in their hotel, when someone hands it to her gf and charlie gets sidetracked trying to politely juggle the thing...

.....

how DID charlie manage before she equipped the smol spear gf??

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Full HCs of the M6 with wings please 🙏🏽

The Arcana HCs: M6 with wings

Julian

His wings look much like a raven's, except where there would be shades of blue when the light hits them, it's deep burgundy for him

Generally so sleek that he can fold them alongside his oversized coat and they're almost impossible to differentiate

One oddly humorous side effect of this is the way it affects his body language. Being such an expressive storyteller, his coat will look like it has a life of its own as he wildly gestures along

Not the best at remembering to take care of them and will melt into a puddle of affection-starved goo as soon as you start helping him preen and maintain them. Loves rambling about the anatomy

Repurposes his own shed feathers as quills

Likes wrapping them around you when he's giving you one of his all-encompassing hugs, otherwise, he keeps them in his space

Will get sooo fluffed out when you fluster him that his coat will start flapping like it's in a storm and his wings will get even bushier than his eyebrows. Feathers will start to fly if it's intense

Much prefers walking to flying unless absolutely necessary, but will make exceptions if it's to go on an adventure with you

Asra

Their wings are closely tied to their magic, and as such are very difficult to fully comprehend. They look like gravity-defying water

More specifically, his wings look a fairy's or a fly's wings, translucent with ever-shifting swirls and patterns, subtly glowing with a myriad of colors that blend into a pearly blue-ish purple

Their wings are also something they generally don't show in public - they fold down below their shoulders like a cape and lie flat below their rainbow coat. They don't care to draw attention to them

Nobody knows what exactly wing maintenance involves, all you know is that every full moon or so he goes swimming in the cave and seems extra glowy afterwards

Can and will use them like prisms during lazy mornings sleeping in and scatter rainbows all over the place

Has been known to paint on them like stained glass when they're bored. They do invite you to join in, but they're awfully ticklish

Tends to idly hover when he flies, but the one or two times you've seen him motivated to go fast he practically flashes across the sky. You're sure he's cheating aerodynamics somehow but he won't tell

Nadia

While the shape of her wings resembles an owl's, their gauzy, shimmery surface look almost like a butterfly's - if a butterfly's wings could fold back and drape elegantly along golden lines

The deep royal purple of them and the pink shimmer when the light hits them makes them look deceptively delicate. Nadia's wings are not fragile in the slightest

You did see her incorporate them into her swordplay, once, and the impact of one of them hitting her opponent sent them sailing across the ring. They are not to be messed with

While she doesn't show them off, she's not shy about them either. She spends hours maintaining them and coordinates ornaments for them to match her outfit and the occasion

Loves cupping one around your shoulders and back whenever you stand next to her, both to warm you and to protect you

Can gain the attention of a room of nobles simply by fluttering them, and uses this skill regularly and effectively

Will lightly brush your jaw with them when she walks by

Flies like a fighter jet. You've never seen acrobatics like these

Muriel

He dislikes his wings about as much as he dislikes the rest of his body, which is both saddening and par for the course

Like the rest of him, his wings are strong, big, heavy, and thick. You'd compare them to a bat, but the fur on the outside is as long and coarse as a bear's and there are powerful sinews throughout

You don't find this out for a while, but the insides of his wings are warm and leathery, covered in soft fine hairs, and very safe and comforting when you need shielding from harsher elements

Very self-conscious about the scarring and size of them

Keeps them folded in so tightly they look permanently cramped and uncomfortable, and only fully extends them when he absolutely has to. He does avoid flying because of this

As for the scarring - well - it's crisscrossed all over after years of combat, the edges are shredded and tattered in places, and you can tell where some bones and cartilage broke and healed crooked

The first time he let you sit behind him, wash and comb the fur, and finally moisturize them, he was able to let them hang loose for the rest of the day without needing to draw them in again

Portia

She has bird wings much like her brother, but they're considerably fluffier, stronger, and have the colors of a warm sunset

Keeps them neatly folded against her back while she's working, but otherwise they're fluffing and twitching and swaying behind her while she's laughing and chatting with you and her friends

Switches between flying and walking without thinking about it - she needs to get across the canal? She's not bothering with a bridge, she's taking a hop, flap, and a flutter to the other side

Loves using them to snuggle you. Whether it's casual brushes against your arms, folding around your waist to hug you, resting over your head when it starts to rain, it's all fair game

This is overall very pleasant, because she takes thorough care of them and the downy soft undersides feel like falling into the fluffiest cloud you could possibly imagine

Will use them to nudge people out of the way if she feels like her (or your) personal space isn't being respected

Her wings are so feather-dense that she does shed quite a lot and you find sunset feathers anywhere she sits or lies down

Lucio

He loves showing them off and he hates comments about their traits. Morga once told you that they were snowy white when he was a child, but over the years got streaked with red and black

They're webbed, thin enough to look like frost, with fine golden veins. Over time the sinews and bones took on crimson and charcoal black colors and he's rather proud of the effect

What he's less likely to flaunt is the deep, jagged scar slicing through one side that he got when he lost his arm

He effectively turned it into artwork with a golden tattoo, but he still tends to carefully position his gauntlet to cover for it

This in no way stops him from parading his wings otherwise. They're always halfway unfurled, poised like he's about to take flight, and matching his face for expressiveness

Startle him, and they'll fly above his head in shock before they ruffle and bristle and rustle around his shoulders as he loudly insists that he wasn't surprised at all, just playing along, no really!

Likes gently booping your nose with them to get your attention

Tends to compare his wings to others when he's insecure

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 4

Last episode ended with Simon coming home to a smashed window, this episode starts the morning after, Simon takes the bus to school, while Wilhelm is anxiously waiting for him.

Culture: At a high school level in Sweden, there's national tests in Swedish, English, and Math. Like everywhere else, the purpose of these tests is not only to grade students, but to align all schools across the country to combat grade inflation.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent is trying to cheat by looking at Nils' answers.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent draws a dick in the gravel while waiting for the others to be done with the test.

Subtext: This entire episode is overflowing with examples of privilege. For Vincent, and many other rich kids like him, studying and learning doesn't matter, they'll graduate regardless, so he doesn't care about the exam, he only cares about the graduation party.

Cinematography: Even with Felice and friends being completely blurred out in the background, you can still see Stella and Fredrika turning to look at Sara, and then turning their backs on her.

Culture: In the US, a lot of people are using "socialism" as a catch-all phrase which means politics they don't agree with, regardless of its actual ideology. Likewise, in Sweden, a lot of people use "communist" in the same way about generally left-wing politics, which is what Vincent is doing here.

Subtext: Wilhelm asks Simon if he can reconcile the conflict of dating a royal while being anti-monarchy, but the real question is of course if Wilhelm can reconcile the conflict in himself.

Subtext: This is where the show's political stance shines through, and this argument, that Wilhelm wasn't allowed to choose his life for himself, is the main argument they're gonna use in the finale.

Subtext: Wilhelm is weakly defending the monarchy, but just ends up repeating what his mother told him; it's a privilege, not a punishment, but does he believe it himself?

Subtext: The letter-to-yourself plot is mainly there in order to help August along his redemption arc, but here the show is using it to reinforce the point of the previous scene. Who does Wilhelm want to become? Does he have a choice?

Culture: In Sweden, Säkerhetspolisen, SÄPO, is the government agency in charge of national security, which includes providing security and assigning bodyguards to the royal family.

Subtext: Note the great use of passive voice here by Farima to avoid taking responsibility for the decision to force August to join the birthday foundation event. She's also expertly bargaining with Wilhelm to get what she wants.

Subtext: We know it was the far-right assholes who posted comments to Simon's videos a couple of episodes ago.

Blink and you miss it: Jan-Olof really perks up when Linda talks about moving to Gothenburg, because that would probably mean the end to the relationship between Wilhelm and Simon, which would solve all of his current problems.

Subtext: Like Farima, he bargains with Linda and Simon to get what he wants, for Simon to stop posting things to social media. It's almost as if their strategy was to do nothing at the start, waiting for things to blow up so they could swoop in, help out, and start making demands in exchange...

Blink and you miss it: The option to inactivate and hide your social media account is right there, but of course Simon has to choose to delete everything, because it will cause more drama and anguish.

Blink and you miss it: Fencing! Woohoo! I did fencing for five years as a kid until 8th grade or something, but I only did foil, and not épée like these students. I have absolutely no idea where these two are coming from or going to though, where would they practice? Is there a hidden fencing hall somewhere on the grounds that we haven't seen yet? How many kids at Hillerska are fencing? Also, he's carrying a practice blade and not an electric competition blade, so that checks out. Of the three types of modern fencing, épée is unique in that the entire body counts as a valid target, while in foil only the torso counts, and in sabre only the upper half counts. Oh wow, it looks like the gear is now wireless and every fencer carries their own indicator lights. Cool! Back in my day you had to be strapped in with a cord for competitions.

This tumblr is now about French School fencing. Allez! Touché!

Subtext: The narrative is that it's perfectly ok for the crown prince to be gay, as long as he's not gay gay.

Culture: The show keeps saying this, but in real world Sweden it's no longer the case. Supporting los jibbities is viewed as a completely mainstream and inoffensive opinion, on par with supporting human rights in general.

Subtext: Another example of privilege is being in a position to do a lot of good, and then just not caring about it. Simon is fighting for the causes he believes in, so seeing Wilhelm just casually throw it away is extremely disappointing for him.

Subtext: Unlike Vincent, August is actually a natural leader, someone people listen to, which is why he manages to quiet down the room when Vincent is unable to. Maybe a good quality in a future king?

Subtext: Simon is continuing the argument from before. Wilhelm could have shown solidarity with mental health causes or LGBT causes, but chose not to. However, he immediately decided to join in solidarity with the other rich kids protesting the school rules, which is rather selfish.

Subtext: Colour theory! Sara in purple, because part of the reason she's back at school is that August asked her to? And Simon in yellow, because he sure isn't loving Wilhelm very much right now.

Subtext: Just a reminder that Sara has actually been completely out of the loop since the end of season 2. She has no idea about the school rules, what's happened at home, how it's going with Simon and Wilhelm, or what's happening at school.

Blink and you miss it: Fredrika is so close to stop striking as soon as she's threatened with repercussions.

Subtext: I keep hammering this point home: The culture is in the walls, it's not something some of the kids made up. The visiting alumni were also hazed as new students and kept it going as third years. Same for the parents of all these kids. They're all part of the system, they all kept the cycles of abuse going, because they want the school to be like that.

Subtext: Privilege is thinking you can get things your way with almost no effort. None of these kids have ever struggled or protested something for real and then not been given what they wanted, so they seriously believed they'd win immediately.

Subtext: Another theme of this season is bringing secrets out in the open. We've all seen August struggling with body dysmorphia and an eating disorder since season 1, but no-one has ever called it out and put words on it, until Simon immediately recognizes it and calls it out.

Subtext: ...while the rich kids are just stuck in denial, because eating disorders is for poor people or something, it's not something that happens to them. And if it did, you certainly wouldn't admit it to anyone else.

Subtext: August tries to jokingly fend off Nils because he doesn't want anyone to know that the letter actually meant something to him, until Nils pushes too hard, and August punches him.

Subtext: Vincent talked a big game about striking in solidarity, but when they're caught as hilariously unprepared as they are, they're not pooling their resources in solidarity with each other, and instead resort to selling them to the highest bidder. Capitalism in a nutshell, illustrated perfectly by the behaviour of spoiled rich kids. Also, pet peeve, the English word for the currency of Sweden is "kronor", not "crowns".

Lost in translation: They're actually repeating a single word in Swedish, "svikare", which is pretty hard to translate. The verb, "svika", is a bit worse than letting someone down, but not as bad as betraying someone. The adjective, "besviken" typically means disappointed. So "svikare" means a person who is letting other people down, disappointing them, or betraying them.

Subtext: The culture is in the walls of the place, but the kids are also pretty damn complicit in continuing all the shitty traditions. This looks like a game of strip poker or truth or dare that went off the rails and just resulted in more bullying, with everyone joining in.

Subtext: The other girls are upset with Felice because she broke the code. You don't snitch to outsiders, you don't tell the truth, you keep up appearances.

Blink and you miss it: Henry won the potato chip auction, happily ate the entire bag, and passed out in a chair, clutching the bag. Mmmm, sourcream and onion.

Subtext: Speaking of closing ranks towards the outside, this also applies to this strike. It would be bad PR for the school if anyone outside found out that it happened, so it's better to solve it quietly and discreetly. Vanessa can trust the kids not to snitch. Vincent is also right, the parents, who are paying the tuition fees, are on their side.

Subtext: Felice can't be seen talking to Sara, so she checks that the coast is clear, and then drags Sara into a private bathroom to have their conversation.

Subtext: Likewise, Sara was probably Felice's first real friend.

Subtext: Nice little foreshadowing. I would have loved seeing Simon's drawing though!

Subtext: Well, he could have just made his social media private, but the show has to maximize the drama, so here we are, piling on more examples of how Simon is losing himself to the monarchy, that maybe he can't reconcile the conflict.

Subtext: Erik spent three years living at Hillerska, of course he wouldn't have told his then twelve year old kid brother about all the shit going on at the school. August spent an entire year living with Erik at the school, seeing what went on first hand, so of course he knows a side of Erik that Wilhelm doesn't.

Subtext: August has been trying to keep his mouth shut and avoid Wilhelm, but since they have yet another fight, he decides to drop the bomb about Erik to hurt Wilhelm.

Subtext: Again, the culture is in the walls. This is not something that only Erik's class did, once. It's probably been happening to all the boys for decades. It happened to the current second-year students, it happened to Erik, and lots of students before him who kept this shitty initiation tradition going.

Culture: Let's talk about the gay porn hazing a bit more. To me, this is an urban legend. I heard about it when I was a teenager back in the 90's, but I don't personally know anyone it happened to, or anyone who did it to anyone else. It was always hearsay, it happened to a friend of a friend's brother, or a classmate's cousin's friend or something similar, as is typical of urban legends.

Let's also make one thing absolutely clear: It doesn't work. The homophobic idea behind this shit is that if you are forced to watch gay porn and get a boner, you are gay, and if you don't, you're straight. But that is actually not true, erections don't work that way, and the fear of being found out is quite the boner killer. Also, what if you like guys, but the guys in the porno aren't your type? There's just so many ignorant misconceptions behind this idea.

I've also seen a lot of fan comments that keep playing into this ignorance; that the only reason Nils decided to stop the tradition was because he obviously failed it. Or that the only reason August is against it is because he failed, and the only reason he failed is because he's secretly not straight. No. Remember that the test doesn't work. Nils probably passed, despite actually being gay. August might have failed, despite being completely straight. Regardless of what happened, they both found it humiliating, and that is why they made a pact to stop it.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Super excited to see more Fourth Wing content on Tumblr. I don't have any specific ideas yet, but maybe some fluff with our hot wingleader Xaden? Or some wholesome training scenes with the dragons?

It needs to be brought here because it's a crime to have practically nothing here!!!

Morning lights

The morning sun wasn't even fully out when Aetos banged on every single door on the first year's floor shouting something about the promised training and how lucky everyone should feel that he's taking his time to put in extra work even if it should be a punishment for performing worse then others squads in the last training session.

You suddenly become hyper-aware of the still-cold morning air seeping through the window, that you left ajar last night. Dawn is still breaking outside. Light shades of pinks and oranges painting the horizon. It's a beautiful sight. One you wouldn't want to miss or at least enjoy one of the mornings when someone isn't forcing you out of bed.

You move to get up slowly but two strong hands instantly tighten over your lower stomach, drawing you back to where you were laying moments ago. "Remind me to spit into Aetos morning coffee", the husky voice fills the space. You let out a breathy chuckle, turning slightly in the embrace of the man who's been sharing your bed for some nights now. "Don't, he might come swinging at me", you mutter, trying not to fully chase his sleep away since his eyes were still closed. He lets out a slightly frustrated huff, "I would love to see him try", and here it is real Xaden Riorson lethal, powerful, ready to fight at any given moment.

It was slightly funny how this big muscular male was squeezed beside you looking like an absolute work of art that didn't belong in the first year's bedroom. Your fingers carefully moved to run through Xaden's dark hair, nails scratching the scalp softly. The most content sigh leaves his lips as his hands grip your hips tightly.

"Wingleader, the cadet is needed on the training grounds", you say in a more serious tone, in a way mocking Aetos. But you also know that time is working against you now. You do need to get out of bed and get ready. The last thing you want to listen to is grumpy males complaining. "This cadet is needed in bed", Xaden mumbled against your skin, bringing you even closer to him, his warmth seeping into your skin and now you understand why you didn't feel the cold breeze from outside. How could you when you have a whole personal heater in your bed? "Is that an order?", you tease, Xaden opens one eye, throwing a glare your way, "Yes. Yes, it is".

Yet it all wasn't that simple. He was still a wingleader. A wingleader who shouldn't even be here in the first place. Because the conclusion that everyone would go straight to would be that you slept your way into safety. And you don't want to be labeled as a whore. This place was a shit show as it is most of the time.

You firmly push at Xaden's arms, the last thought fueling you with enough strength to pull away from him. "No...", he tries to grab onto your hips once more but you're out of his reach now. Could he easily drag you back? Yes. One flicker of his shadows and you would be pinned to the bed. But he's not stupid too. The commotion outside the door is getting louder. Meaning that you're running out of time.

"Now you're being a whiny baby", you tease, pulling Xaden's shirt from your body and reaching for your flying leathers instantly. Better safe than sorry in these kinds of situations. "I'm not a whiny baby", he argues back and you can hear the announcer in his voice that makes you chuckle, "And now his masculinity has been scarred", you place your hand on your chest sighing dramatically. "Sometimes I hate you", he rolls his eyes, before moving to sit up. His muscular chest somehow looking even more unreal in the early morning light. But you shake your head quickly, reaching for your daggers, "Oh same... look at us sharing mutual emotions", you flash him a smile that he doesn't return.

"Be careful", he says, eyes now practically cutting right through you. One of his shadows move to caress the scar that now was forming on your forearm. You brush your fingers over the shadow, "I'm always careful". But you can tell that the worry growing within him is much bigger than most mornings. "This is something Aetos came up with. Most definitely no one in command...", but you cut the distance between you, knee pressing into your mattress as you lean closer to him, "I will be fine, Riorson", you lean in brushing your lips over his. The kiss is gentle and soft. A rare moment because most of the time it's filled with so much speed and desire that you lose yourself in the moment. Not even noticing when it ends. "And I have Liam" you mumble, packing his lips one more time before turning to leave. Xaden growls and you know that it's because you said another male's name right before kissing him. Territorial bastard.

"Any clues about what this is?", you catch up with Liam, who instantly wraps you up in a side hug as you walk alongside the others.

"Not really. Some bullshit", he grumbles still sleepy. "Use your far sight signit", you wrap your hands around his middle. "And look into Aetos insides?", you let out a laugh, quickly clasping your hand over your mouth and shoving Liam slightly. Yet a couple of heads instantly turned your way. Jack one of them. Instantly glaring at you. You return the favor by flipping him off but that only makes his snarl more.

Morag. You call out. Not far away. The voice rings out, soothing you in a way. Do you stink of wingleader once again? You roll your eyes. Mind your business. Morag lets out a dramatic sigh. I have to carry your stinky ass. You flip him off mentally. Out of the two of us, it's you who stinks.

"I'll see you out there", Liam taps your shoulder as he walks towards his dragon. Wrapping your arms around yourself you watch as he jog towards Deigh. You can't imagine your life without him now either. You two had bonded almost immediately. After crossing the parapet you burst into tears. Liam had instantly stood in front of you shielding you from the crowd and equally as much not letting others see your tears. "If it helps, I'm sure a shat myself midway", he had whispered, making you let out a chuckle as you whipped your tears.

But you're brought out of your head as a hand holding a cloth clasps over your mouth and you're brought into a tight chest with a huff. Your hands instantly move to push away from the person holding you down, moving and wiggling in its hold. "Squad whore", the words ring in your ears and you instantly know how this is. Just don't have much time to be mad when a wave of dizziness hit you. That fuck must have dosed the material in something.

I'm almost there. Hold on. Morag's voice fills your head. Your nails dig into his pam as you try to rip it off your face. But then you see the gleam of light. Reflection. Sun. A dagger. Your eyes widen. Jack strikes for a kill just you move you heal up shoving between his legs as hard as you can. The blade zaps the side of your neck, and the warm blood trickles down almost immediately. "I'll end you bitch", Jack barks from behind you. You try to step away but your legs buck as you come in contact with the ground. The roar pierces the field. For a moment you feel relief flowing through you because it has to be Morag but it's the blue wings that make your gut drop. Even the shouting from cadets dies down. Sgaeyl. Why is she here? She shouldn't be here. You try to push your hands against the ground. You need to get out of her way as well, yet your body feels so heavy. She lads with a thud, sending dirt debris flying all over.

Xaden you plea in your head, gods what a way to die by his dragon. Just Sgaeyl steps closer, growling as she glares ahead. You count your last seconds and then her wing moves over you. Drawing away the early sun. You feel the blast of heat and then an agony-filled cry.

Breath Morag orders. What's happening? You ask, feeling your consciousness starting to slip, your hand now clasping the side of your neck. You stink of someone and you're sure Morag is rolling his eyes. Xaden. Sgaeyl felt Xaden on you. Or has he told her something? Does he know? Sgaeyl moves her wing away, and her snout if you can call it that moves closer to you as she inhales your scent. "Thank you", you mutter, "Just tell Xaden a less dramatic story, please", you're not sure but it sounds like she lets out a snort before moving to nudge your hand and then everything goes black.

When you open your eyes once more it takes you a moment to realize what had happened as memories filled your head. Head. Head that was pounding. The tightest on your neck piercing with pain. "Love", a voice rings out and you flinch instantly. Warm fingers run down your arm, that same comforting warmth that you know. You blink your eyes a couple of times. Waiting for your eyes to concentrate. And there he is. His hair was messy from all the pulling he must have done. The shirt slightly wrinkly. "Why are you here?", you ask groggy, hand instantly reaching for your throat at the uncomfortable pulling. "In my room? Or with you?", panic runs through you. You can't be in his room. No. No. No. People will talk. You move to sit up but Xaden's arms instantly hold you down.

"You're not going anywhere. Gave me enough of a fright", he grumbles in frustration, "I didn't ask for it", you argue back. Something in his eyes darken, "And I did? I've never ran faster and you were there behind Sgaeyl wing all bloody", his voice raising with every word he spoke. Your gaze softens. Losing had always been his biggest fear. And it's been a long while since he had something precious to lose. "Sgaeyl saved me all thanks to you I'm sure", you lace your fingers through his. Xaden shakes his head, "That's all her doing. I did get a lecture about not taking proper care of you", you let out a slight chuckle, imagining her lecturing him and him not being able to talk back, "Say thank you to her from me", you mutter.

Xaden runs his fingers through your hair, letting out a sigh, "I...I love you", he whispers, bringing your hand closer to his lips. You smile at him sweetly, brushing your free fingers across his cheek, "And I love you". Xaden leans in, brushing his lips over yours before pressing his forehead against your shoulder, "Though I wish I could bring him back just so I could kill him myself", he grumbles, "Xaden!", you warn him, yet let yourself chuckle.