#when i drew their hands i used mine as a reference

[britishchick09]

rewrite eristine's ring sizes! ;)

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 2

Summary: Your rivalry with Remus continues as you spend a night out with his friends at Sirius’ concert.

CW: Alcohol Consumption, mentions of vomit (briefly), references to sex.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x reader

Chapter 1

—

A few days later and you were finally settling into your new home. And as far as roommates go, the boys were pretty good ones.

James was usually out early in the morning at the gym or Rugby training and he’d often return with coffees for everyone. Sirius was a natural born entertainer and always had a joke or a silly anecdote to amuse you with when you returned home from work.

It was just Remus that hadn’t warmed up to you, however, you had no idea why. You’d done everything you could think of to win him over. You cleaned up the kitchen for him before he got home from his lectures, you left extra for him when cooking dinner, you even offered to do his laundry when he was too busy studying for upcoming exams. But still, nothing. No matter what you did, you were greeted with a cold disinterest and one word answers.

By the time the weekend rolled around, you were exhausted, both from him and your long week at work. You were hugely looking forward to Sirius’ show. You figured it’d be the perfect way to unwind.

—

You were squashed into a booth next to James and a girl named Dorcas, twirling your straw in your hand.

The bar was full, thick with energy and cigarette smoke. It was dimly lit, some dive down a back alley. Apparently Sirius and his band played here every Saturday night.

“So y/n! Mary tells me you want to be a writer!” Lily called across the table, barely audible over the clattering of glasses and loud talking that filled the room

“Yeah, it’s something I’m working towards,” you replied. “Although I’ve been working on my novel for a couple of years now but it’s still not quite there yet.”

“Oh cool!” Peter chimed in. He was sitting beside his girlfriend Sybil, a hand around hers under the table. They looked positively smitten with each other. It reminded you of how glaringly single you were.

“What’s your book about?” Dorcas asked.

You sighed. “I guess you could call it a fantasy.”

“Oh is it one of those ones about wizards and magic and stuff?” James pondered enthusiastically.

“I mean, kind of? Not really.” You replied.

“Oh good,” Dorcas mused. “I don’t really like those kinds of stories. I’ve always found them to be a bit childish. I mean, the idea of wizards living amongst us? it’s a bit absurd if you ask me.”

You giggled. “Yes well, I’d say mine is more of a high fantasy. Anyway, enough about me. What do you all do for work?”

You took a sip of your drink.

“Well, I’m a primary school teacher.” Lily offered.

“Oh wow. And how do enjoy that?”

She giggled, her dimples appearing as she did. You had to admit, she was stunningly beautiful, with long auburn hair and astonishing sea-foam eyes. You understood why James had been pining after her for so long.

“I love it,” she responded. “It’s wonderful knowing you’re able to shape a young person’s life.”

“That sounds really rewarding,” you responded.

“It is,” she smiled. “But it’s far from impressive compared to what some of the others do. I mean, Dorcas here is a lawyer and Remus is studying to be a doctor!”

Eyes fell on Remus and you watched as he recoiled slightly under the attention.

As the conversation drew on, you learned that Peter was a Banker, Sybil read tarot cards for a living and Dorcas’ girlfriend Marlene played lead guitar in Sirius’ band.

“Just wait until you see her,” Mary exclaimed. “She’s incredible.”

“I’m looking forward to it!” You replied. You took another sip of your drink and realised you’d finished your glass. Upon looking around the table you saw that the others were in a similar position.

“Looks like I’m in need of a refill. Next round is on me guys!”

There was a slew of cheers from the group as you slid out of the booth and made your way towards the bar. You placed your order and then took a seat on a stool as you waited for the drinks to be made.

You were scrolling through instagram when you felt a presence beside you. Looking up, your heart sank slightly when you noticed it was Remus.

“I thought you could use some help carrying everything,” he muttered, taking a seat beside you.

“Thanks but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah well, I could use some space. The table was getting a little crowded.”

Your eyes raked over his figure, you saw the was he was nervously fiddling with his hands. It dawned on you that maybe the bar scene wasn’t really his thing so much as it was his friends’. He seemed to be a little overwhelmed.

“Okay,” you relented.

A few drinks were placed on a tray in front of you, and Remus reached out to grab his, taking a long sip. Your eyebrows raised.

“You’re drinking straight whisky? That’s pretty hardcore.”

“It’s referred to as a whisky neat,” he responded matter-of-factly (as if you hadn’t been the one to order it for him). “And it really isn’t that bad. I have a pretty high alcohol tolerance. Why? What did you order.”

“A gin and tonic.”

“Exactly my point.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him. You could help but scoff.

“Are you implying that I can’t hold my alcohol?”

Remus shrugged, taking another sip. “I’m just saying that some people have a higher tolerance is all.”

A mix of irritation and downright anger began to build in your gut. You’d had enough of him. His coldness towards you, his constant condescending remarks. Fuck it, you thought, I’m done being nice. If he wanted to start something, then so be it.

“Fine,” you challenged. “If you’re so sure about that, £20 says that I can out-drink you tonight.”

He turned to face you, a brow quirked questioningly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just shake on it, Remus.”

“Fine. It’s your funeral.”

You shook hands. Then you turned to the bartender.

“Excuse me, I’d like to change my order. Could I get a whisky, neat?”

—

The band came on around 10pm and the crowd cheered wildly.

Sirius was the first to enter, clad in black and leather, looking like a true rockstar.

His eyes twinkled beneath the stage lights. Even on the narrow bar stage, he managed to look ethereal.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?”

The crowd roared once more, you among them.

“That’s good! We’re Snakes and Lions and we have a few songs to play for you. Is that alright?”

The crowed cheered again.

As the first notes of the song trickled through the room, you couldn’t help but stare up at Sirius. His long flowing hair, the tattoos that peaked out from under his black tank top, the way his eyeliner brought out the grey of his eyes.

A glance to Remus beside you, told you he was feeling the same way. He was staring up at Sirius like he was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And you couldn’t blame him.

Still, you felt and odd pang of jealously shoot through your gut.

You decided to push it down, instead venturing to the bar for another drink.

As the set drew on, you could feel yourself beginning to sway, not only from the music but also the alcohol in your blood.

The room began to blur in a dizzying haze and you found yourself leaning into James who stood beside you, for support.

You continued to watch Sirius perform, entranced by the way he moved around the stage, his voice baring into your very soul.

At one point, when he he introduced the band (Barty on drums, Marlene on lead guitar, Evan on rhythm guitar and his little brother Regulus on bass), he sent you a wink and you felt your heart leap in your chest. You felt like you were watching a celebrity.

Still, amidst the music, your mind continued to wander to Remus. Your bet had carried on and you continued to down drink after drink out of sheer spite.

You were determined to beat him. Determined to prove that you could hold your own, that there was a spot for you in his home, whether he liked it or not.

By the time the band finished playing, you were far past the point of no return.

—

There was a light on somewhere. It was too bright, shining directly into your eyes. You groaned and rolled over, sinking in to your mattress. You tried to go back to sleep but you couldn’t. You needed to get up and turn the light off.

As you blinked your eyes open, you realised the light wasn’t in fact coming from the ceiling but from a window.

That’s odd, you thought, I don’t remember there being a window there.

The room was blurry as you looked around. It was clearly morning, that much you could tell, and there was a throbbing pain in your head. Last night was definitely a mistake.

It was then that your gaze fell on the football paraphernalia that sat on the dresser and the framed jersey that hung above it.

You shot upwards like a bullet, your eyes widening as you glanced around the space.

This wasn’t your room. It was James'.

You gasped loudly as you looked down at yourself. Fuck! You were in your underwear.

You frantically looked around the space, searching for anything you could use to cover up. There was a black t-shirt thrown over a chair in the corner.

A sniff told you it was clean and you hastily threw it on, not caring right then that it wasn’t yours.

It didn’t cover much but it’d have to do for now.

It was at that moment the door swung open. You froze, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

James just looked you up and down for a moment, balancing a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Oh good. You’re up.”

“W-what happened last night?” You blurted out in a panic.

“You don’t remember?” The boy queried, moving to place the coffees down on the bedside table.

You shook your head.

“We didn’t… ah? You know?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that! We didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair in relief.

“Oh. Okay. Good.”

James just smirked. “Oh no, it’s much more embarrassing than that.”

You looked up at him nervously, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “Shit. What did I do?”

James moved to stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, muscles in his biceps flexing as he did.

“Well, you stumbled into my room at 2:30 in the morning complaining you were bored and wanted to hang out.”

You grimaced.

“Then you collapsed in my bed and refused to leave. Which I didn’t mind, by the way. But then you decided that it was too hot and insisted on taking your clothes off. I barely stopped you from getting completely naked. You were on a mission.”

You groaned as he chuckled at the story.

“James, I’m so sorry.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there.”

“What? Mostly naked in our roommate's bed?”

He snorted. “Yeah sure. Something like that.”

He gestured towards the coffee that sat on the bedside table and you took a sip, letting the warm drink sooth your aching throat.

“I’m sure you have a hell of a hangover,” he sympathised. “Why don’t you finish your coffee and then go and have a shower while I whip up some breakfast.”

You smiled up at him gently. “James, you don’t have to-“

“Stop apologising,” he cut you off. “I’m happy to. Besides, what are roommates for if not to make you meals?”

—

It was a while before you re-emerged, having showered and now wearing clothes that were your own. You weren’t bothered to dry your hair though. You resigned to let it drip down your back.

You trudged into the living area to see that the rest of the boys had beaten you there.

James was standing in the kitchen cooking what smelt suspiciously (and deliciously) like bacon.

Sirius was lounging on the sofa, half watching a random action movie that was playing on the TV, set to low volume.

You assumed that choice was made for the benefit of Remus who looked a wreck. He was sitting at the dining table, face down with his head resting on his arms.

An evil sense of satisfaction washed over you when you realised that he was nursing a hangover just as bad as your own.

“Well!” You made sure to exclaim loudly, smacking your hands down hard on the table as you took a seat across from Remus.

He flinched and groaned as he sat up, sending you an irritable look.

“Last night was fun.”

Sirius chuckled from his across the room. “For some of us more so than others.”

“Y/n definitely had fun,” James teased as he approached the table, placing a plate of bacon and eggs before you. You slapped him playfully on the arm as he walked away.

You glanced around the room as you began to eat, your brows furrowing when you noticed something odd out of the window.

“Guys, why’s the pot plant out on the balcony?”

“I’m airing it out,” Sirius said absent-mindedly. “Remus threw up in it last night.”

A delighted smirk overtook your features. “Did he now?”

The boy just groaned, thumping his head back down onto the table.

“Here mate,” James stated, placing a plate of food down beside his head. “Eat something, it’ll make you feel better.”

You had to admit, you did feel better after some food. And James was a bloody good cook.

Then, suddenly an idea flitted through your mind.

“Did anyone keep a copy of the tab from last night?”

“Yeah I’ve got it in my wallet, why?” James confirmed.

“Could I see it please?”

He placed the receipt in front of you on the table and you began to add up the drinks that you remembered yourself and Remus ordering.

“Aha!” You shouted after a moment, jumping up and walking around the table. Remus looked up at you, displeased.

“I beat you! Pay up!”

“What’s this?” Sirius questioned curiously.

“Remus bet me £20 that he could out drink me and I proved him wrong!” You exclaimed.

“Hey, don’t put this on me,” Remus muttered. “It was her idea.”

“It looks like you’ve been a bad influence on our poor Remus,” James teased.

“Yeah, he never usually drinks that much,” Sirius added.

You looked at him suspiciously. “Huh? Really? That was big game you talked last night.”

“Remus is all talk,” Sirius joked. “Deep down he’s really just a little softy.”

“Fuck off, all of you,” the boy groaned.

“Not until I get my £20!”

James barked out a laugh.

“Come on buddy,” he stated in Remus’ direction. “You heard the girl, pay up!”

—

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy

@navs-bhat

@shushbruv

[abbyshands]

jackson!abby (& cockwarming :3)

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; tw superrr old draft (not really but i don’t like it LOL), cockwarming (obv), use of a strap-on (referred to as abby’s cock) abby’s a tease, use of princess/sweet girl/baby, daddy kink, fondling, nipple play, kissing, lmk if i missed smt <3

P.S.; please look at the below links to learn of ways that you can help the people in gaza, and how you can learn more about this ongoing issue overall. please don't stay in the dark about this: like each post, reblog them, etc. if you like my work, then i am asking you to take the side that i'm on. free 🇵🇸

LINKS: ways you can help | 🇵🇸 masterpost | MORE ways you can help | places to boycott, and families you can help escape | learn more

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

“shhh, shhh, baby, c’mere. i’ve got you,” abby whispers to you, cock deep inside your cunt.

you had always gotten cold easily, but this time was different. jackson was fucking merciless when it came to the chill. a blizzard was going out there, and no matter how much you bundled up, fire going and sleeping bag around you, you just couldn’t get warm.

so who should you ask to help you but her?

you were way too needy to go very long without abby’s strap-on, and that was precisely why she had carried it along to jackson in the first place. she had seen you shivering, sleepless as you did your best to get to bed, and begging to get warmer.

and she had just the thing.

that’s how you ended up faced away from abby, her arms wrapped around your waist as she cockwarmed you from the back.

you let out a small whimper as abby pulled you closer, the silicone of the dildo moving around inside you. “f- a- abs,” you couldn’t help but whine.

abby’s arm was wrapped around your waist as she cuddled you close to her body. “hush, sweet girl. don’t wanna wake anyone, now, do we?” she whispered, chuckling lowly into your ear.

“n- no, daddy,” you huffed out as she yanked you even closer to her, and if there was one thing that was warm by now, it was your fucking face.

“that’s a good girl,” abby cooed into your ear as she jerked her hips on “accident,” which damn well make you squirm as abby slowly put her hand up your shirt. “am i filling you up well enough, princess?”

“mmm, mhm,” you whined as abby’s fingers began to roll at your nipples, and it was a wonder you didn’t turn around and beg her to fuck you then and there.

what a funny way she had of making sure you were “warm.”

abby couldn’t help but chuckle as she fondled you at your chest, pinching your nipple in her thick fingers. “needy girl. want your daddy’s cock so bad, don’t you?” abby whispered into your ear, which drove you fucking crazy.

you couldn’t find it in you to answer, and only pushed yourself back onto her, eager for her touch. and, of course, this only drew out one more laugh from abby. “well, that’s one way to answer,” she teased.

when you tire of having your back pressed to abby’s front, you’re pressed up to her in a different way now, chest flush on hers as you face her. so, when abby thrust into you a little, just to tease you, of course, your face is in her neck, lips giving her small nibbles to choke back your whiny moans.

“a- abby, stop it,” you groan into the crevice your face is buried in, digging your fingernails into abby’s back. abby chokes back her own needy groans, eager to tease you instead.

“what, baby? can’t take it? didn’t you want to be warmed?” abby teased as she did it once more, rutting her hips up into you, but in the end, she cut it out. you sink your lips into her skin, pressing them to her neck so you don’t make too much noise.

it doesn’t work out that well.

“f- fuck,” you draw out, and abby can’t help but chuckle.

“so cute.”

and it’s abby, so obviously there’s a point where a little cockwarming isn’t even enough to take care of your neediness.

it begins slow with small kisses on your neck, a raspy, whispered, “mine” following each one. but it blends into much more when you find yourself not only shivering from the cold now, but from her, too.

abby’s large hands make their way under your shirt again, warming your skin in seconds, and she comes up to cup your breast. you let out a small whine when she does so, to which abby places a finger over your lips.

“shut that pretty mouth of yours for once, baby, yeah? too much noise,” she teases you, as if she doesn’t have her hands all over you, dick spreading your wet pussy open from the front as she rolls your nipple in her fingers.

but you don’t disobey her.

“good girl. such a good girl for daddy,” abby voices, only making you cuddle into her closer. the sound of the fire crackling behind you can only do so much to drown out those little whines that abby can’t get enough of.

“now let me warm you up, baby.”

so abby lays there with you, making sure you’re comfy with every little thing she’s doing, hands roaming as she kisses your neck and face. every once in a while, she’ll move her hips a bit, just to hear those cute little whimpers that you try so hard to keep down.

it’s only when you finally fall asleep that she pulls out of you, knowing that she got the job done in making her girl feel better <3

[chlorinecake]

am in love w ur work<3 can u do an enha x reader ff, where they're dating a very feminine y/n who's also insecure? yk like them comforting y/n etc etc?

「 𓍯𓂃 A 𝒢UIDE TO OVERCOMING YOUR INSECURITIES 」

──── 🪽 𓂃 𓈒 step one: date 1 / 7 members of 엔하이픈

🪞 ( . . path to bookshelf ◍ ) 𓄼 be the best version of you .ᐟ g𝓮nre. fluff, comfort, est. dating, fem.r ﹙ 🧺 . . . ﹚. 美しさ skinship & kisses 350 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽s each ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 for my melanated queens; “God, I look terrible in this picture,” you sighed miserably at the couple photo before you, zooming in closer on your screen to get a better look. “I'm literally lost in the background…”

“Let me see,” your boyfriend offered, bracing himself behind you as he peered over your shoulder. “Baby… you look beautiful here, what’re you talking about?” He practically chuckled, somewhat humored that you thought the picture was bad when it was clearly fine.

“I’m talking about my complexion,” you sighed, shutting off your phone out of frustration, “Maybe we should only go on dates when it’s sunny outside so I don’t look like a shadow next to you by time we take a picture…” That's when Heeseung felt his heart drop at your words, pouty lips partingas he asked, “Why would you say such a thing, ____? I love how healthy your complexion looks…”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, walking from behind you and guiding your chin towards his. “Did someone say something to make you feel this way, love?” You struggled to meet his sincere doe eyes as your own weak ones were on the verge of tears.

With a crack in your voice, you finally spoke, “No, Heeseung… I’ve always felt this way, I just never said anything til now…”

“And are those insecurities motivated by your own standards or by what society has poisoned you to believe?”

You got quiet at his question, knowing deep down that you never had an issue with your skin color and that it was something the world had made you feel...

“Look at your beautiful hands in mine,” he continued, shattering your inner thoughts as he drew your attention to his hands holding yours. “Please don’t think your skin color is something we need to work around… especially not for a silly picture…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your stomach flutter as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your wrist. “So,” you started in a soft voice, his gentle eyes looking back up at you, “can I at least delete the picture then?”

“Fine,” Heeseung smiled through a complying breath, wiping the moisture from the corner of your eye with his thumb, “but only because I’m planning a date for us to take more photos later…”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 for the frequent bad hair days; “Gosh, this is why I need to go bald one day,” you sulked, tossing your hairbrush to the ground in a fit of exhaustion, “otherwise, I'll never be able to make my hair look right...”

“It looks pretty to me, baby,” Jay smiled upon meeting you in the bathroom, the frustrated clatter of your hair products having caught his attention. “What style are you going for anyways?” Your boyfriend hugged you from behind, placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

Reaching for your phone that sat on the bathroom vanity, you showed it to Jay. “Here’s the reference picture,” you sighed, feeling yourself calm down slightly as he held you in his arms, “I just have so many fly-aways today that the gel won’t even hold them in place...”

Jay's eyes scanned your reflection in the mirror, comparing it back and forth to the reference photo, “Easy fix, princess. We’ll just have to buy better products.”

“But it’s not just that… my split ends—”

“Then I’ll schedule you an appointment at the salon today…”

Your shoulders fell at your boyfriend's words. You knew he was only trying to make things better, but you still felt insecure. “Hey, look at me ____,” he whispered, voice light as a feather as he caressed your side, “my girl always deserves the best... especially if it’ll make her feel better about herself… got it?”

A smile spread across your face as Jay's fingers playfully tickled your waist.

In reality, no, you couldn’t get your hair right every time, but the hair you had suited you best, and simply required a little more tender love and care…

“Sooo, no salon date today?” He asked, watching your features.

You scoffed at his question, “No, we’re definitely still going… I’ll just make sure to embrace my natural hair this time.”

“And as you should, baby,” Jay smirked, kissing you one last time before his hands left your side, “I’ll go get the car keys...”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 for the curvy girls; “Whatchya lookin' for?” Jake asked from the bed, watching as you searched through your shared drawers for anything big enough to swamp your entire body. “I’m too big for all of my clothes now, so I need to find something that's large but still cute...”

“Oh...” your boyfriend's voice trailed off as he got out of bed to meet you on the floor. “That’s why I always let you wear my hoodies, baby. Here,” he offered, pulling the white hoodie over his head and revealing a bit of his toned stomach before he shimmyied the oversized hoodie over your head. “So... can I cuddle with my adorable girlfriend all day like we planned now?”

You blushed slightly at his compliment, taking Jake's hand in yours as he helped you up from the ground, “Yes, but only if you promise not to put your hands on my stomach like you usually do...”

His eyes widened at your odd request, “I thought you liked it when I cuddled your tummy?”

He pulled you against his chest, but the physical contact only made you squirm with discomfort, “Please don’t call it that, baby…” The words left your mouth with such pain, his heart sinking at the sad look that washed over your features…

“I don’t get it ____, what’s going on?” Your boyfriend pressed with concern, releasing you from his hold to simply hold your hands.

“It's not like you'd understand where I’m coming from anyways...”

He frowned at your words, just as you watched with weak eyes while he pulled out a top from your drawer, holding it before your eyes. “You see this? You’re not too big for your clothes, but your clothes are too small for you…”

“Yea, but I used to be able to fit all of those…” You sulked in defense.

“And your body is just going through a normal change and has granted you with gorgeous curves… all we have to do now is accommodate for them..”

You thought on his words for a moment, a feeling of guilt washing over you after you realized you'd snapped on him earlier when he was only trying to help.

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, pulling you back into his warmth before whispering, “Please, be more kind to your body, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded with a sniffle, tightening your arms around him.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 for the giggles often hidden behind one’s palm; You and Sunghoon were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment living room, legs intertwined in a string of flesh like always as and it was your turn to laugh when your boyfriend retold one of the craziest stories from his prior days as an Italian restaurant waiter.

“And the guy had such a nerve to order 150 bucks worth of steak to then leave a measly fifty cent tip…” his voice trailed off, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to maintain your laughter, a shy hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said while giggling, cheeks hurting a bit from trying to hold back your emotions, “you can continue…”

He looked at you with confusion, his thick, dark brows screwing in the center of his face, “Wait… why’re you apologizing for laughing, baby?”

“Oh…I…” you started, startled by his question, “I guess… I just don’t like hearing my laugh sometimes?… plus it makes my face scrunch up and look all weird when I smile…”

“Stop, your laugh is gorgeous and so is your smile, what’re you talking about?” He scoffed, leaning back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you sighed, untangling your legs from his and bring your knees to your chest.

“Sure, but that’s only part of the reason,” Sunghoon corrected, readjusting himself on the couch so he could be closer to you as he spoke, “it’s true, y’know?” He said before tickling your ankle, making you smile once again, “I bet that makes you feel better already, doesn’t it?”

You looked down before meeting his sincere gaze, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as he squished your face together with his hand.

“Yes… it does,” you giggled through the pouty lips his fingers forced you to make, making him chuckle a bit to himself before leaning in to peck your forehead first, then your nose, before finally, your lips…

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 for the spots makeup can't conceal; “Ugh,” you groaned with frustration, letting out a sigh as you aggressively wiped at your face with a makeup wipe, “this foundation is supposed to be full coverage!... God, now I'm gonna have to leave the house looking like a complete troll...”

“Excuse me?” Sunoo asked from beside you while adjusting his tie, a glint of amusement in his hazel eyes despite the concerned nature of his voice.

“I don't mean to be dramatic, but I swear the mirror hates me...” You exclaimed, tossing the dirty makeup wipe in the trash can while internally dreading the fact that you were having a terrible hormonal breakout today.

Sunoo's delicate hands left his neck tie to grab the package of wipes and pull out a few for you.

“The mirror has no feelings, sweetie... only you do,” your boyfriend chuckled at the pouty look on your face, guiding your head upward as he gently wiped away the remaining smears of makeup from your skin.

“Besides, you don't need to wear all this stuff anyway,” he whispered this time, the most loving look in his eyes as he caressed your cheek, “you're naturally gorgeous to me...”

He let his thumb graze over your lower lip before leaning down a little further from where he stood, pressing a tender kiss to your plush lips.

“You're lucky you didn't turn into a frog after doing that,” you giggled, playfully smacking his shoulder as you both noticed the pink hue rising to your cheeks... a hue that would've otherwise been covered by makeup.

Smiling at your words, he handed you a bar of soap and a towel, “I'm glad we don't have time for you to contour or conceal anything, so lets get the rest of this stuff off your face so we don't end up late for our date...”

You took the soap in your palms, lathering it together under the running faucet water as a new feeling arose in your chest upon looking at yourself in the mirror. No, you didn't have perfect skin, but you were still beautiful and loved, which in this moment, was all that mattered.

“Thank you, Sunny,” you said, massaging the soap into your face as he walked away from you, “I'll be out in a minute...”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 for the hairy girls; “Shit,” you cursed under your breath while rummaging through your things. “What’s wrong, baby?” Jungwon asked, approaching you from behind with a smile on his face.

“I can’t find my razor,” you stated plainly, not even meeting his eyes as you closed the suitcase you were just searching... “Oh,” he started, cat-like eyes rounding slightly, “you can always use my razor if you want to for now then…”

“Please, I’d need like three of your razors to shave my arms properly,” you huffed, stepping out of the closet and walking toward the window, “why’d I have to be born like this?”

“Baby… don’t say that, body hair is completely normal…”

You caught a glimpse of your unibrow in the bedroom window, turning away with frustration as your sad eyes met his, “So then why doesn’t it feel normal?”

“Because, sweetie… you haven’t embraced it yet,” he continued, taking your hands in his before drawing a feather-light line from your wrist to your elbow, “your arms look fine, okay? And if anyone doesn’t agree with that, they can take it up with my taekwondo skills…”

You smiled cheekily at his words, “So… I guess that means I’m getting kicked first then, right?”

“Never,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him, “but… I’ll be more than willing to give you a lil kissy kiss instead…”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt Jungwon snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, peppering kiss after kiss along the exposed skin. “Yang Jungwon, I command you to stop this madness right now!” You giggled playfully, stomach already hurting a bit from how much his tickly lips made you laugh…

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 for humble members of the itty bitty titty committee; It was just like any other ordinary night you'd spend with Riki. You two were cuddled up on the couch, sharing a bag of snacks as you browsed through the anime section on Netflix. Y’all had already binge watched just about every single series worth your time, but now, you found yourselves watching any and every trailer in search for your next big obsession.

You watched as your boyfriend flipped through the anime section with the remote in his hand, nothing but ample bosomed female characters flashing before your eyes.

Yes, those sorts of visuals were completely normal in anime, and yes, you and Niki usually loved simping over the provocatively animated characters together...

However, this time when he got to talking, it only made you feel insecure about yourself as you stared down at your own seemingly feeble chest, a tiny pout rising to your face.

“Riki,” you asked shyly while the trailer kept playing, “do you think my boobs are too small?”

He almost immediately whipped his head to face you, “What?”

“N-nothing…” you lied, looking back at the TV as if nothing happened.

That's when your boyfriend paused the show, “No, you definitely said something, ____,” he corrected, putting the remote down and letting his hand find your knee to comfort you.

You let out a sigh, resting your hand over his while looking into his eyes this time, “Would you like me better if I had bigger boobs?… be honest…”

“You're asking me this because of all the busty anime chicks we just saw, aren't you?” he asked back, which only made you sulk even more.

“I know, it's stupid but-”

“No, it's a normal feeling to have, ____... but trust me, your chest is the perfect size, babe... they're like... dainty little cherries, y’know?...”

Even though you knew he was only trying to cheer you up, you couldn’t help but side eye him in his moment. “Wowww, how romantic of you, Nishimura,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, I know you like it when I compare you to foods... especially when I call you jellybean,” he smiled, right before smothering your cheek with the biggest kiss he could muster as you giggled beneath him, knowing that somewhere deep down in your heart, he was 100% right...

tysm for reading this quick lil fic !! ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆ and feel free to check out my masterlist for more !!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

[sorensolsikke]

here's some punk diy tips and ideas

[other than crusty pants and battle jacket, although we still love those greatly.]

why should you diy, when you can just find decorated items everywhere, you can ask. what if you are clumsy at painting or anything?

firstly, good questions. we diy so we don't give credit to the big companies who rule the world. we diy to get more independent from the system we dislike. we diy so to save money. to express uniqueness, recognize eachother and be recognized. and especially to have fun and feel cool. diy is not only about clothing, but anything you can set your mind on. of course, one cannot make EVERYTHING for themselves, there isn't enough time and energy. but making at least small steps are already a statement and more than nothing. also, helping small artists by buying their products is also pretty punk.

that being said, i provide you with some tips of mine, all gained from experience:

anything you drew/painted on, you will WANT TO protect. acrylic paint/markers + acrylic paint varnish/transparent nail polish/textile medium are your best friends. read after anything that's new to you.

i highly recommend working with old clothing or thrift shop finds when it comes to textiles, as it is environmentally friendly and you will stay in budget. Anyways, always make sure that the material you use isn't gonna be problematic. for example, if you want to do some patchwork, the material shouldn't decay easily (if it does, it will come off so quickly.). if you want to paint on it, it shouldn't be rugged.

you can not only draw/paint on your canvas shoes, but can also sew, embroidery (just make sure to use a thimble, plus floss instead of thread could make your work more durable), and add beads and trinkets to your shoelaces. in the case of shoes, never use glue (neither hot nor instant glue) – it will come off quickly. for some inspiration, i'll show you my shoes!

(the fake moss is literally unstoppable from falling off or getting dirty. risky idea.)

it's good to carry around water and food!! you don't even have to pay for decorative water bottles and food boxes, as you can draw on glass and plastic just fine with acrylic markers. just don't forget to paint transparent nail polish all over your drawing. in at least two layers. don't be lazy or laid-back. even posca comes off while washing the dishes. and you WANT TO save your reference pictures/final designs, as the case of emergency is likely. but after all, my water bottle is exactly fine after six months, with no accuring problem.

if your current best option to get stickers from is aliexpress or overpriced decor stores, search for local artists and shops on instagram and tiktok, as it may be their most efficent way of getting you to know them. if it seems like you have no chance, you may can still find a print shop with the option of printing on self-adhesive sheets (at least in hungary, those are pretty cheap). and if you want drawings to print out as stickers, you may use your own or –ONLY IF YOU GET PERMISSION– other artist's work. not only good for decorations for like, headphones, but for vandalism too. WAIT WAIT who said that. who said it. not me. no never

(in case that's also impossible, you can create stickers by printing out/drawing a picture, cover it up in transparent adhesive tape, and then put some two-sided adhesive tape on the white side of the pic. it won't be that durable, but it functions.)

if you want to bleach-paint clothing, get some plastic brushes!! any other brush dissolves. draw your design first with chalk!! never forget to put cardboard inside the clothing, and to wash the finished work in a washing machine before you'd put it on. prepare to be patient with the process. and it's not dangerous to touch 5%-9% household bleach, just wash your hands soon after.

if you want your crusty pants to last veryyy long, wax them. look up on youtube jeans waxing.

some more things i made for myself so to give you some inspiration: totebag with pockets, a small crystal holder cabinet, badges, and i decorated some t-shirts, button-ups, an id card case, phonecase, laptop.

theoretically speaking, there is nothing that an individual would be unable to learn how to make, when it comes to diy. you can't imagine how easy it is to bake bread at home. consuming-focused media makes people believe that it's hard to make anything. of course, everyone has to decide about their own priorities, i don't want to convince or change anyone in here. and if you have any questions, send an ask!! i hope i had been helpful.

[yogurtlid10000]

moon phos.

closeup + sketch

….and 6 more color variations while playing with layer modes, I JUST REALLY LIKE ALL OF THEM TBH theyre so funky.

This is like an all moon phos long ass post ok

More silly phos head doodles.

Moon phos is probably my all time favorite character to draw 😓

Some panels of moon phos for my reference, Ik the way i draw them doesn’t reflect their attitude in the manga- but i do love their design!!! Especially their moon clothes theyre so pretty the collar and sleeves…. One of my favorite things to draw.

Another part of moon phos is their pearl eye!!!! In the manga phos get their left eye replaced by a camera pearl eye and it glows in the dark and never closes which is the reason whenever i never draw them with both eyes closed…

Hehe anyway yk phos’s alloy arms? They are so cool people dont make enough fanart of phos doing stupid stuff with their arms

Forget Luffy or whatever. Baller phos is way better. Phos can stretch their limbs so far… AND they can mold and bend into whatever they want. Come on thats so cool-THEY CAN MAKE MORE HANDS AND ARMS.

More ideas of mine. Phos has actually used their double hand wave in the series already:

Anyway i just think there are so many possibilities to what they could do

Multi arm phos idea…. This is very important to me

In the series their arm is more like a whip but i just wanted to draw a bunch of arms

^^other example of how alloy arms could be used-SO COOL!! Man i wish they’d animate season 2 :(( we could get cairngorm and moon phos

Also when they use their arm to make a net to “catch” cinnabar man phos what are u thinkin-anyway i like seeing all the things their arms do. Theres many other examples in the anime, like making a whole mother person with their alloy, or making flowers or making a shield or using it out of their heel to shoot them into the sky (so cool!!)

Here’s some miscellaneous phos:

I was looking for more panels and ended up just basically rereading the whole moon arc of hnk. So here’s a couple panels i like

Here some references of their outfit and sword (i realize i drew their sword handle design wrong,… i was drawing it from memory)

Here’s phos getting #REJECTED i think its funny

Wait ok what the fuck only 30 images allowed in a post?? IM NOT DONE WITH MY PHOS IMMAGES. Ok more coming soon what the heck

[thegirlamongthestars]

stolen glances - c. alcaraz

summary: a journalist’s professional facade crumbles when tennis star Carlos Alcaraz locks eyes with her, igniting an unexpected and thrilling connection

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none (maybe a little of light swearing); english is not my first language so sorry for any posible mistake

notes: feel free to make any Carlitos fic request 😌

The atmosphere at the court was ectic. As a journalist and as a tennis fan, of course, I’ve always loved Wimbledon. The grass, the people, the fashion and London itself were always a delight to witness. Covering the tournament final was definitely the biggest achievement of my career so far. When I was a little girl, I found tennis matches the most boring thing in the world. But when my father took me to a court and I could feel the rush through my veins I realized it would accompany me for life. Journalism has been my vocation since I can remember, so now being able to mix that and tennis was like living my life dream every day.

“Are you ready?” my colleague asked while checking everything. “They are about to come out”

“All set, Lucas”

The speaker started to announce Novak’s entrance and my fingers started playing with the lanyard of my press pass as a way to channel the nerves. It wasn’t my first time doing this but it always felt different when it involved him.

Carlos Alcaraz—the name that had become synonymous with raw talent and unyielding passion in the tennis world. I had followed his career closely (since I was in university), watching him evolve from a promising junior to a formidable force on the court. But it wasn’t just his skill that captivated me; it was the way he played with every ounce of his being, his intensity almost palpable even from the stands.

Did I have the most teenager-like stupid crush on Carlos? Maybe (actually resounding YES, but I would never admit it out loud)

The second his name was called, the stadium erupted. And then, there he was, striding onto the grass with that signature mix of confidence and focus, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the stands. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him wave to the crowd, one of his characteristic smiles playing on his lips.

“Remind me to bring a baby bib next time” Lucas started to mock me.

“Shut up!” I slapped his shoulder with all my force and he laughed looking at me as if he knew my little secret.

“It’s going to be a good one” he referred to the match changing the previous topic.

I nodded, trying to compose myself. “Definitely.”

But as much as I tried to focus on the task at hand, I just couldn’t do it. This wasn’t just another match; this was the final, and Carlos was one step away from his second Wimbledon title. And for some inexplicable reason, that fact made my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the excitement of the sport.

As both of them warmed up, I busied myself with checking my notes, adjusting my computer, anything to keep my mind from wandering too far. But it was no use. My gaze kept drifting back to Carlos, to the way he moved with such precision and grace, every muscle in his body flexing and looking irresistible.

There was a certain magnetism to him, something that drew me in despite my intention of keeping professionalism. I had been around athletes before, had interviewed a bunch of them, but Carlos was something else.

For being London it was a quite warm afternoon but what I didn’t know was that the heat won’t be the thing raising my heart rate wildly. As Carlos walked to his position on the baseline, his gaze landed on the press box and his eyes lingered on mine for the briefest of moments.

Electricity.

That’s what went through my body from head to toe. My breath hitched. It was a split second, but in that instant, it felt like the rest of the world faded away.

“What the hell was that”? Lucas whisper-shouted, nudging at me.

“Don’t know what you mean” I answered, trying to play it off, though my pulse was still thudding in my ears.

“He looked right at you,” he said, a knowing smirk on his face.

“It was probably just a coincidence,” I muttered, though even as I said it, I wasn’t sure I believed it.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The match was starting, and I had a job to do. I forced myself to focus on the game, on the back-and-forth of the rally, on the cheers and gasps of the crowd. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about that look, about the way his beautiful eyes had seemed to search for mine in that sea of faces.

The match ended with the result I was so heartedly waiting for. After the trophy ceremony, journalists had to go down the court to make some interviews in front of the whole crowd and Lucas was the one chosen for that task. We tossed a coin before the match and my luck was conspicuous by its absence once again.

When we arrived next to the players, I was a bundle of nerves and I wasn’t even the one interviewing them so I thanked the coin. The cameras were being set and our sound operator was about to put the microphone on Lucas.

“I’m not feeling well at all” he started to pull on his shirt collar trying to fan himself.

“Are you getting dizzy?” I grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him.

He looked at me with something like guilt on his gaze and pull me close to him to say “He’s all yours”

I wasn’t processing anything. I just saw Lucas winking at me and getting accompanied to the dressing room tunnel by a member of the staff.

Next thing I knew is that I was in front of the camera and that the crowd was cheering on Carlos as he approached me.

Electricity again.

He showed me one of his full smiles and grabbed the microphone that someone from my crew was handing him.

“Carlos, congratulations” I exclaimed truly thrilled while offering my hand. “Two-time Wimbledon champion. How does that feel?”

“Thank you” he replied, holding my hand for longer than expected. “It feels… pretty amazing, to be honest. Maybe even sweeter than the first.”

“Because you knew what to expect?”

“Exactly” he said, leaning closer. “The first time, it was all new—adrenaline, excitement, maybe a bit of shock. This time, I could really soak it in, enjoy the moment”

“It looked like you were enjoying it, even during those tense moments in the final set” I was trying to be as professional as the heat I was sensing right from him allowed me to. "How do you keep your cool when the pressure’s on?"

“Honestly? I just remind myself that it’s only a game” he said with a shrug, a relaxed grin playing on his lips. “And sometimes, a little bit of stubbornness helps.”

“Stubbornness?” I raised an eyebrow, totally getting captivated by his proximity.

“Yeah, I hate losing” he admitted and the crowd laughed with him. “But it’s also about enjoying the battle. I love the competition, the challenge. That’s what keeps me going.”

I nodded, noting that he seemed as much at ease as me. “And now that you’ve won here twice, what’s next? A well-deserved break?”

“A little bit, yeah. Maybe a beach somewhere” he said, his eyes lighting up. “But you know how it is—tennis doesn’t stop. And the Olympics are almost around the corner.”

I completely went out script with the following question but as a professional, I was feeling in such a safe environment that I had to let my impulses flow.  

“Ever think about doing something completely different? Outside of tennis, I mean?” I raised my gaze to his face just to find out that he was already looking at me. Quiet intensely.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then flashed me a cheeky grin. My knees trembled a little.

“Well, I was thinking… maybe I should find more excuses to do interviews like this. They’re turning out to be more interesting than I expected.”

I felt a warmth spread through my chest at his words, catching the subtle, playful edge in his tone. And I couldn’t help but blush because of the reaction of the people on the stands, that was a mixture of surprise sounds and cheeky whistles.

“Interesting, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Definitely meant as one”

[chipperchemical]

i made my own Life Series iceberg :)

this takes some entries from a few other icebergs i've seen around, plus a few of my own additions! i hope it's all accurate and in vaguely the correct order

here's an explanation for every entry:

LAYER ONE:

Grian owns the series: The Life Series was created by Grian, and he gets final say on all decisions relating to it.

The Helmet Rule: Lifers are not allowed to wear helmets during the series, both so other players are more recognisable and as an armour debuff.

Traps never work: There's a running pattern of traps often failing throughout all of the seasons, for a variety of reasons.

Scar's abs: There's some kind of correlation between how many lives Scar has lost and how much clothing his Minecraft skin loses.

5AM Pearl: The name commonly given to Pearl on her Red life, especially in Double Life.

Scar's Enchanter obsession: Scar almost always tries to steal the enchanting table for himself.

LAYER 2:

Secret soulmates: Refers to Grian and BigB's secret alliance during Double Life.

"SCAR NO!!!": Grian's catchphrase throughout the entire series.

Etho's skin never changes: Despite other Lifers using colour-coded or custom skins, Etho never changes his.

Jimmy's Canary Curse: Canaries are often bought down into mines to detect carbon monoxide or other harmful chemicals in the air; once the canary dies, it's a sign that there is danger in the mine. Jimmy's curse is that when he dies in the series, chaos and danger follows very soon after.

Ranchers' Revenge: The name of the Warden that Tango and Jimmy summoned to get revenge on Scar in Double Life.

All wooden structures will burn: The Lifers love arson.

LAYER 3:

Joel was Shrek: Joel's old Minecraft skin used to be Shrek, and his current skin is just a humanised version.

Pufferish of Peace: The misspelled name of the pufferfish that Grian offered Jimmy and Scott to form an alliance in Third Life.

"Go home. Go.": The words that Tango says to the viewer at the end of Double Life.

Skizz's nicknames: Skizz gives a lot of nicknames to his fellow Lifers, most famously Dippledop for Impulse or Jiggles for Jimmy.

Timmy is Jimmy: Some Lifers call Jimmy "Timmy" and can cause great confusion among the others, most notable in Last Life when Impulse thought he had been calling Jimmy by the wrong name all season.

Cupid Skizz: A headcanon that began in Double Life which claims that Skizz was the invisible force that drew the soulmates together, and is an angel/Cupid.

Crastle as a euphemism: In Third Life, Bdubs' Crastle was often called small and was joked about as a non-PG euphemism.

Easy mode left on: According to Martyn, almost every series has had the incorrect difficulty at the beginning. Most notable in Last Life, where the server was set to Easy mode instead of Hard.

LAYER 4:

Tango's rage: The moments after Bdubs' betrayal kill (Last Life) and the Ranch burning down (Double Life) in which Tango snaps.

EvilAnvil: Youtube Fancreator who creates songs based on each series, using vocal snippets of the Lifers as lyrics.

Ariosor11: Youtube Fancreator who creates videos summarising the alliances and relationships in the Life Series.

Grian's Widow Curse: Grian's allies or teammates always die before him, sometimes to his hands.

Watchers: Originally from Evo, the Watchers are a group of overruling beings who run the Life Series, effectively forcing the players to fight to the death over and over for their own enjoyment. This narrative is only apparent through Martyn's POV. This is not canon and, in Martyn's words, is more similar to a Life Series AU.

Martyn is always a traitor: In every season, Martyn betrays (or plans to betray) his closest allies.

LAYER 5:

Terry: No-one knows who Terry is. (BigB's alter-ego in Last Life when he goes into witness protection.)

Scitties: A specific image of Scar's Minecraft character, standing shirtless and with a... modified chest.

Scar's crystals actually worked: Theory with data behind it which poses that Scar's magical crystals in Last Life had a genuine effect on the player holding them.

Scott hates the Watchers: A common belief due to Scott's reluctance to kill anyone when he was chosen as the Boogeyman in Last Life. He defies the will of the Watchers, possibly out of hatred.

All winners are soulmates: All of the Life Series winners up to Real Life have been soulmates in Double Life -- Grian and Scar, Scott and Pearl, and Martyn and Cleo

LAYER 6:

"Winter is over, Spring has begun.": The phrase that Martyn planned to say after betraying Ren in Third Life after the battle of Dogwarts. It never came to fruition due to Ren and Martyn both dying in the battle.

Second Life: The original name for Limited Life which could not be used due to copyright concerns.

Listeners: A group of beings who are the opposition to the Watchers and are trying to free the Lifers.

The Full Moon Curse: Once any Lifer has pointed out that there's a full moon, the rest of the session is doomed to be tragic.

LAYER 7:

Scar's off-screen death: A cut death from Third Life which involved Scar being killed by Martyn. This was cut from the series due to it feeling awkward and not right.

Jimmy is a Listener: A theory that spawned due to the Listeners' interest and use of Jimmy during Evo. This also links with the theory that Jimmy purposefully goes out first every series to defy the Watchers as a refusal to play the game correctly.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS:

Mumbo is a Vampire: I didn't include this because it's more of a Hermitcraft thing than Life Series, but it's a fun headcanon. It stems from (I believe?) Season 7, when Mumbo's skin changed to be very pale.

Grian is a Watcher: This just tied in too much to the Watcher entry, and I felt that "Jimmy is a Listener" was more interesting.

thanks for reading!! <3

[chubsonthemoon]

Happy Binderary 2024!! Kicking things off with the fantastic Never understood a single word he said by dear friend @aboxthecolourofheartache. I had the best time beta'ing this for Box and just had to have it on my shelf! More pics and process info under the cut:

had an absolute blast packing as many easter eggs as I could into this one! it's a roadtrip gone wrong fic heh, so I went for a scrapbook/collage cover made of the same kraft paper I usually use for paperbacks, but left the hinge + spine exposed. I tore each piece from a different sheet of scrapbook paper, so the resulting texture is really fun:

I also went to town with references to some of the events in the story, particularly on the back of the cover. the postcard is probably my favorite element; here are my few first practice runs on scratch paper (along with some of my colored pencil testings for the markings on the map) before I went for it on the real cover!

I repurposed the ribbon graphics I originally drew for another bind (@feralrookie's right where I should be ❤️). the music notes on the first page notate the rhythm of the opening lines of the song the fic is based on, Three Dog Night's "Joy to the World," which I had on loop while I was typesetting this! ("Jeremiah was a bullfrog/Was a good friend of mine.") Box's taste in trigun-themed country and blues is impeccable, and I have a whole spotify playlist made almost entirely of her recs ehe :3

the blank/empty ribbon appears between chapter 1 and the epilogue for story reasons ehe; really wanted to convey the feeling of "where did the music go?", because I also listened to American Pie a lot while making this lolol.

also added little camera graphic at the end, which reminded me of meryl's occupation as a journalist, but the hands/lack of a face holding the camera also gives me the uncanny feeling of being watched/photographed (also plot relevant heh). camera graphic and the house graphic at the beginning are both sourced from Heritage Type's free vintage illustrations, from a series of packs called "Hands Holding Stuff."

the hand holding the house on the title page gave me wolfwood's confessional-on-the-go vibes, BUT it was originally held straight like this:

so I decided to tilt it to give it more of that feeling of instability and "oh shit my entire world is being turned upside down rn god the exits WHERE ARE THE EXITS (there are no exits)" feeling present in the fic :D so I guess it's more of a knives reference?? still, the kind of "what is even going on here?" reaction I had when I first saw it fits well with the title, so I went with it!

and that's it for now!! I'll be out of town for the next week or so, but I have a bunch more projects I'm really excited to share this month, along with some long-overdue author copies that I'm excited to get mailed to their rightful homes!

finally, thank you SO much for letting me bind your work, Box!!! it's always such a pleasure <333

[frostblightsunbite]

First ever post woo

Tim Drake bc he's my favourite character rn B)

Just gonna rant under the cut, so don't mind it or whatever

This was pretty much a challenge to myself just to see what I could do with colour, and then I decided not to use any references whatsoever, because I hate myself, apparently.

That's also why I decided to use Tim, because I thought that because I drew him so often that I wouldn't fuck up his costume. And then halfway thru the line art I realised I completely forgot his cape so... now it's a red robin redesign, or something, I don't know.

Anyway, this took way longer than I would like to admit, mostly because the arm on the right was an absolute BITCH to do, and then after I had done it I realised I had to redo the other hand... and when I was done with that the other hand... and again.

No one ask about his boots, I'll cry. I realised I have no idea how to draw shoes even though I've had multiple dedicated study sessions to just that so whatever.

Why is the lighting pink? it looked cool. Why is he in a purple void? the pink lighting looked cool. And also I tried to draw a background before giving up after literally 5 minutes.

Anyway, I think the anatomy is pretty off, especially considering the arm muscles and also the neck, I think his head might be coming off or something but thats his problem not mine.

If anyone has any criticism, please let me know, but please be aware I will also cry. thanks.

Also I have no idea how tumblr works, I've been lurking on this site since 2018 and I've never made a post before

[leighsartworks216]

On The Count Of Three

Harvey x FTM!Farmer

I've been thinking about this idea for days, but I've only just been able to write it sort of like how I want it. I'm not 100% happy with the ending but trying to expand it out made it worse so I chose the less worse option (in my mind). Slightly inspired by my fear of needles and my third-degree yearns of wanting Harvey to take care of me

Warnings: needles, injections, mention of fear of heights, anxiety, references to Harvey's ten heart event, slight hurt/comfort, semi-implied transphobia (not addressed)

Word Count: 1,002

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey washed his hands in the bathroom sink. He wasn’t even thinking about it, so second nature to nearly everything he did at work. Instead, he thought mostly about what he needed to grab from the medicine cabinet.

A bandaid, disinfectant, a fresh needle, and the bottle of testosterone. He repeated them in his head like a mantra as he dried his hands off and began grabbing each item in turn. With everything secured in his arms, he leaves the bathroom behind and heads into the bedroom. 

The farmer fidgeted anxiously as they sat on the edge of the bed, watching him intensely as he set everything aside and ripped open the disinfecting wipe.

Harvey couldn’t help but feel honored to be trusted with this. Yes, he was a doctor, but it was nearly a year after their arrival in Pelican Town that they told him about their plans for medically transitioning. They’d admitted to him later that they were afraid of the people in this small town rejecting them or worse. They were so alone in Zuzu City for so long, they’d hate to feel that way again here.

This had become a sort of ritual after that. When the prescription first came in, they’d held it in their hands, staring down at it as they sat on the exam table, like it was an alien baby they were holding. He asked if they needed help the first time, to know what to do. But it quickly became abundantly clear when he tried handing the prepped needle off to them that they couldn’t do it on their own.

As he knelt down on the rug by the bed, he looked up at them. They were looking away now, staring hard at the wall. Their hands shook in their lap, fingers tapping uneven patterns against their thighs. The cold shock of the disinfectant startled them, but they just closed their eyes and tapped another rapid pattern against their skin. He set the used wipe aside and removed the guard off the needle, drawing the proper amount of the hormone into the reservoir before setting the bottle aside.

Each sound made them more visibly anxious. He could hear them swallow thickly, hear the slight tremor in their breaths. If he was any closer, he’d hear the rapid beating of their heart against their ribcage.

He took one of their hands in his, and kissed the slightly sweaty palm with deep fondness. He thought this was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen them do. Nevermind going down into the mines, every single week they faced their fear, trusting in him to get them through it. And every single week, he did, and every week after they were ready to close their eyes, grit their teeth, and get through it again.

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got you. Take some deep breaths now, alright?”

The first inhale was shaky. The exhale was squeezed out like somebody trying to get air out of a bag before they closed it. He waited patiently as they repeated the doctor’s orders a few more times, each subsequent one becoming smoother and easier. He hummed his approval, encouraging them to keep going.

He kissed their palm again reassuringly before setting their hand aside with a comforting squeeze. When he let go, their next exhale was choppy and nervous. There was nothing for it; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner they’d actually be able to calm down.

“Okay, ready?”

They nodded, eyes shut impossibly tight as they prepared for the sting.

“On the count of three. One… two… three.”

He slid the needle into the appropriate depth, drew some blood into the needle, and pressed down on the plunger to inject the dose. Their hands clenched into tight fists, clutching at nothing or the blanket underneath them. They remained that way for a moment after he removed the needle and clicked the guard back in place and set it safely aside. He peeled open the bandaid, removed the two pieces protecting the sticky parts, and expertly planted it over the injection site.

“All done! How are you feeling?” He took both their hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles to smooth out their fists. They sighed deeply as they finally opened their eyes to look down at him, blinking spots from their vision.

“Exhausted,” they admitted. Harvey was no stranger to how much energy being scared ripped out of a person. He kissed the inside of their wrist. “Thank you for helping me with this. I know it’s kind of stupid.”

He squeezed their hands. “Hey, it’s not stupid. I think being scared of needles is a very justified fear.”

They huffed. “I know, it’s just… We’ve been doing this every week for how long now? I shouldn’t be so scared, but even just thinking about it…” They shuddered. “Which is dumb because it just happened, and it barely hurt at all, so why am I still so freaked out by it?”

He stood up from the ground, letting their hands go to brush some hair from their face, cupping their cheek sweetly. “You remember our first date?”

A bubbly laugh erupted from them. They didn’t expect this to be brought up again after so long. “Yeah, I remember.”

He smiled. “I was terrified of going up in that hot air balloon. But I still did, because…” He chuckles bashfully. “Well, because you were so brave, I felt like I could do it anyway, if you were there. But I’m still terrified of heights!”

“So, you’d go up in another balloon if I was there?”

“In a heartbeat. I’ll always be scared, but if you’re there, I can be a little brave. Or at least try to be.”

They grinned, leaning into his hand. “I love you.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to their lips, mustache tickling their upper lip in an oh so familiar and pleasant way. “And I love you.”

[writingbyshiloh]

Medical Drill

Summary: Just more Team Germany stuff in the Toledo House

CW: smoking, FEM! Reader (referred to as “pretty lady”), general Berlin-ness, secret relationships, implied previous smut

AN: I ADORE Moscow so he’s featured in this. If it is disjointed it's bc I wrote half a month ago and another half while making bread. No beta. @soraya-daydreams <3.

WC: 1.65

You rub your eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness of your room and what must have happened to wake you up so fast. The curtain you drew last night is firmly in place, all your belongings are where they should be. You start to lay your head back down. You bolt upright when you hear another knock on your door followed by the Professor stage whispering. 

“Vienna! We need you! Something happened to Moscow! He can’t breathe!” 

There is a high chance it’s a drill. You tell yourself. If something is wrong, he will be in your room shaking you awake. 

With a sigh, you heave yourself out of your bed and start rummaging through the “medical kits” scattered around your room. The real ones for the heist are still being assembled, so you have old books ranging from Care and Keeping of Farm Animals, to Don Quixote, labelled by which kit they are and the supposed contents. The order of them generally goes from the head down, no.1 being head injuries, no.2 and no.3 being neck and heart respectively. You pluck no.4 - lungs - off the floor and sprint out of your room. The hall is quiet, meaning Moscow must be at the checkpoint with the Professor. 

You wince slightly as the steps creek while you run down them. But if you can’t get any sleep, you don’t feel back about the others waking up. Stumbling out the house door you don't even register the temperature change and just keep running. 

Moscow and the Professor are sitting at the outside table quietly talking, while every few seconds the Professor looks at his stopwatch. The night is warm with a clear sky so they don’t seem to mind being awake. You run faster outside, trying to make up for lost time. Slaming the “medical kit” on the table you look up at the Professor (ignoring his wincing at how you treat the medical kit) to get your reaction time. 

“This says number 5 on it.” Moscow tells you. You almost break your neck with how fast you turn your head to look at the book. You see the clear Medical Kit 4 label and look back at Moscow to see if he actually is having a medical emergency. He lets out a small laugh and pats your arm as if to apologize for pranking you. You feel yourself smile despite the early hours of the morning. 

“I’m just messing with you. You did well.” He says. You don’t have it in you to be mad at him, and lightly push his shoulder to let him know you see the funny side. 

“Well, good yes. It’s faster than last week's drill. However, in a heist, every moment is crucial to treat the hostages.” The professor tells you moving his fist to articulate his point. Pulling out a seat you sit next to Moscow, who offers you a cigarette. You nod and he hands you one and his lighter. You force yourself to nod and pay attention to the impromptu lecture knowing you’ll never have to work again in a few months.  

The professor only has a few more comments, things you make mental notes about to try next time before he bids you a good (but quite early) morning and leaves to prepare for the class day. 

“Thanks for doing this,” you say quietly. 

“I used to wake up at 4 in the morning for the mines. This is nothing for me.” Moscow tells you. 

“Mind if I sit with you for a moment? I’m wide awake now, I don’t think I could sleep.” 

Moscow nods and you lapse into a comfortable silence. Moscow is kind to you and praises you in front of Denver for getting an education to gently tease his son. He has ended up being your partner for many heist-related team exercises. At first, it was because his son kept ditching him to team up with Nairobi or Tokyo, but now you prefer to work with him over anyone else. Berlin is a close second. 

“How are things going with your boyfriend?” He asks lighting up another cigarette. You frown thinking over his words while you watch the cherry of the cigarette burn. You don’t tell anyone about previous partners you’ve had before joining the heist, trying to keep going through with the future and ignoring your past. 

“My who?” 

Moscow turns his head to see if you’re joking with him. When he seems you’re not he continues “C'mon, you know. The other half of Team Germany.” He adds extra empathy to the team bit. 

You drop your gaze down to your cigarette in the ashtray. Moscow places his hand on your shoulder and gives it a small squeeze. You like Moscow, he’s like one of those uncles who aren’t blood-related but always there for you. He dances with you after three beers and tells you corny jokes. 

“I, um, we have been ‘seeing each other’ for a few months.” You say, using air quotes to describe the nature of your relation to the leader of the heist. Moscow shows no anger or judgement, just his kind eyes so you keep going. 

“It’s supposed to be causal. And I’m keeping it that way ‘cause who knows what will happen inside the mint. I can see why he was married five times. Part of me wants to go along with it, even after the heist. But I can't risk ruining the money.” 

“Are you going to tell him?” 

You sigh, watching the wind blow through the bushes. You tell yourself you will but there are so many what-ifs it's hard. 

“I’ll decide when we're all on the boat.”

Moscow looks like he has something to add, but isn't sure if he should say it. When he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is a bad cough. You rub your hand over his back as he hunches over, carefully watching and waiting before you offer him water or a cough suppressant. Much to your dismay, he resisted, trying to get back to the conversation between you. 

"What were you saying?" he asks. 

"I can't remember." you lie, and Moscow is kind enough to understand the topic of the conversation entirely. 

“Let me cheer you up. Have you heard the one about the doctor and the teacup?" 

You turn to look at him, excited for whatever it could be. 

“Darling, you look exhausted,” Naririobi says joining you at the table for a lunch break. You nod slowly as if each movement is exhausting you, which isn't far from the truth. 

“There was a medical drill last night. I couldn’t sleep after.” You tell her. She nods sympathetically as you reach for another glass of water. 

“Go and nap. I’ll wake you before class starts,” she says. Thanking her you push your chair into the table and start to make your way to the stairs. 

You’re so close to your bed that you can almost feel the soft pillow under your head when a hand reaches for your wrist. Too tired to question or pull your hand back you just follow the hand to an arm clad in an expensive suit jacket, to a handsome face. 

You blink slowly, not to be seductive but to try and get some moisture back into your tired eyes. It helps but also puts you closer to an eye twitch.

“Hey pretty lady, where are you going?” he asks quietly. Everyone else is downstairs eating or outside to enjoy the summer but you appreciate his commitment to keeping it hidden. 

“To bed.” 

You watch his lips curve into a sharp smile, thinking you’re going to take him with you. 

“In the middle of the day? When is everyone awake? That’s risky for you.” He gently twists your wrist so he can kiss the back of your hand. “I like it.” 

“I’m going to my bed, alone, to nap,” you correct him, making no moves to pull your wrist back.

“How much time did the Professor say was an efficient nap? 20 minutes?” he twists his wrist to check his watch, shaking your arm in the process. “You can nap and we still have another 30 to spend together.” 

He chuckles as you shift your weight, seriously considering his proposal. 

The rapid heavy thumps of footsteps on the stairs make Berlin drop your hand and turn around. You bend at your side to peep over his shoulder to see who is coming. Denver comes into view first, with Moscow starting to loom behind him. 

You see Denver nudge Moscow to start speaking, some questions addressed to Berlin, something about the phone that will be wired to the Professor. 

“As you can see, I’m talking to Vienna right now,” Berlin says, turning back to you. He looks apologetic that your time together will have to be cut short. 

You wave a hand in front of your face. “I have to nap anyway. We'll continue this later?” 

Berlin smiles at your words, hearing the subtext in them and nodding in agreement. Turning back to the other men, you’re sure he’s still smiling. As he and Denver descend the stairs, Moscow catches your eye and gives you a friendly wink. One that just screams I was young once too. 

Face burning, you rush into your room, kick off your shoes and settle into bed. Even though you know you won’t be able to fall asleep now.  

[semper-legens]

132. Running Close to the Wind, by Alexandra Rowland

Owned: No, library Page count: 433 My summary: Avra Helvaçi has a problem. He's in possession of the world's biggest secret - the formula that wards off the sea serpents that swarm the shipping lanes in this season. If he can find a buyer, he could sell it for a fortune. If he can find a buyer. He thinks he's got a chance with his ex, pirate captain Teveri az-Haffar. Who hates him, currently. And to make matters worse, the statuesque and perfect Brother Julian has eyes on him - a shame about Julian's vow of chastity. No, despite being blessed by luck, Avara always finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Will he survive his brush with the seas once again? My rating: 5/5

This book. Hoooooooooooo boy. This book. I picked it up for reasons that, if you know me at all, are entirely obvious. Pirates! Magic! Fraught relationships! Characters sparking off each other on the high seas! And when I cracked it open, I…gotta say, I was not expecting what I got. This book is silly, it's horny, it's absolutely ridiculous and very much not for everyone. I spent most of the first quarter of it unsure whether I liked it or not. But by the end, I couldn't help it. I was invested. Something about this silly, silly book drew me right in, and I was absolutely hooked. Gotta hand it to the author, they really know how to keep things interesting, and by the end I was completely sold on this world and these characters and everything going on. What can I say, it's a pirate's life for me!

So, like I said, this book is silly. And yet, there's still a grounding in reality that is much appreciated. For example, a large part of the plot is that the sea is impassable at certain times of year because sea serpents are breeding - typically referred to in crude terms. Characters angsting about not being able to traverse the giant fuckpiles of sea serpents is, in itself, funny! But the danger they pose is real, and the consequences of trying to sail is grave for the characters. The pirates have an annual cake contest which is the most serious business in the world to them, and once the narrative begins exploring that, the reader understands it on a deep level. It's not silly no-consequences land, characters that are under threat of pain or death are still under serious threat. There's just fuck serpents and horny ghosts and spooky dentists and spooky dildos, too.

Our main character is Avra, an ex-spy who was supremely bad at his job and is also the ex of Teveri, longsuffering pirate captain. Avra has stolen a secret that might be the reason how one of the countries can get through the sea serpents, but he doesn't know how to use it, and he's hardly in anyone's good graces. That's what being a silly little s1ut will do for you. He's honestly delightful - his manner of speaking and the repetitive nature of his toadying and weaselling his way out of trouble might be grating to some, but I enjoyed him immensely. Tevari's stoic, no-nonsense, gruff mien provides a great foil for Avra. I like that they have some kind of Tragic Past, but that the narrative decides it isn't the focus and, while it sometimes comes up, doesn't spend too much time mining it for angst points. And I like that Tevari isn't humourless! They just tend towards the sarcastic rather than the silly, balancing Avra and some of the other characters perfectly. Rounding out our protagonists is Julien, a monk of unparalleled hotness, who provides the heart of this story. He's sincere, he's heartfelt, and he's passionate about his convictions, which is interesting to see for his character archetype. I think he wound up my favourite, just for his antics around the cake contest.

For a book that's so, so deeply h0rny, I'm legitimately impressed with how well I, a sex-repulsed ace, could get along with it. The conclusion that I have reached is that it is horny but not necessarily erotic, which is a huge distinction for me. Characters have sexualities and wants and desires, but they have other facets to them too, and actual sex is more of a punchline than a Drama. Sex seems to be quite casual in this world, at least among the pirates, and that goes a good way towards establishing this fact. What else? I liked that the book committed to its premise and its worldbuilding. I really enjoyed how a lot of the names and cultures seemed more Arabic-inspired than European - Europe is often seen as the default model for fantasy worlds, but there's a wealth of history in literally every other continent too! Overall, this was just fun. I loved it, and I'd highly recommend it.

Next, an island full of magical children faces down the government.

Editor's note: the author uses they/them, which I didn't know when first writing this, so I've sneakily corrected a pronoun or two!

[literary-motif]

Selfish

Dontis x Reader

Dontis succumbs to his anger.

Warnings: references to depression, reader shoots somebody

The day had gone well, contrary to your expectations. It had started dreary, the overwhelming feeling of being lost in the world pressing down on your chest particularly hard as soon as you got out of bed. You had wanted to fall back into it, bury yourself under the comforter to drown out the world. 

The walk had felt like a natural alternative — an uphill climb as you dressed, snatched your keys from the counter, and got out. You had thought about picking up something to drink and lounge on a park bench until the brightness of the morning light faded (and with it another aimless day in a life that was slowly passing you by) but as you walked past the coffee shop, a familiar face stared out of the window. 

Dontis’ eyes lit up when he saw you, a gentle smile on his face as he motioned for you to join him. Thus the day had continued, with you walking aimlessly around New Orleans with him, arms interlocked while conversations flew from niche facts about mythics you had been previously unaware of to the recipe for his homemade pumpkin bread. 

“Centuries,” he said, stabbing a finger in the air to corroborate his point. “I spent centuries perfecting it.”

“I never thought you were so passionate about bread,” you chuckled, raising your gaze to the red sky. Dusk had taken you by surprise. It seemed as if the day had skipped from dawn to dusk in a heartbeat. You supposed Dontis had a way about him that made time pass in the blink of an eye. 

“I am passionate about many things,” he replied, nudging your shoulder, “pumpkin bread happens to be one of them. I can make some for you one day, and I am sure you will agree that mine is the best.”

Dontis stopped suddenly, making you stumble from how abruptly he had frozen mid-step. His eyes were wide, searching the street for something you did not know. He looked concentrated, panicked.

“What?” you asked alarmed, slipping your arm out of his in case you needed to reach for your gun. 

Hunter, he called you occasionally. With the need to avenge your father gone, sometimes it was easy to forget you were — but instinct always kicked in. 

Dontis did not reply. He did not need to. Right at the edge of your perception, you heard a strangled cry for help and a choked-off scream of terror. You were moving before you were conscious of it, Dontis right beside you as you sprinted down the street, turning into a dim alleyway where two figures stood hidden. 

Your stomach twisted at the sight, a familiar feeling of rage and disgust churning in your chest. 

A vampire. She had a terrified man pinned against a wall, her teeth buried in his throat as she drank messily from him while he writhed in pain, trying to push her away with shaking hands. His eyes were wide with panic, darting around the alley in desperation for some sign of help, escape. 

They widened more when he saw you. His chest spasmed, but he did not have the air to scream — only his expression of fear and anguished begged you for help. 

The vampire spun around as she heard you, janking the poor man with her and tearing a large gash into his throat. He cried out, the tears gathering in his eyes finally escaping as he succumbed to a wave of horror and pain. 

Dontis approached them cautiously, hands raised placatingly. “Hey, it’s alright,” he began, his voice leveled and soothing. It was the same tone he had used with you in the beginning, lacking the quiet resentment for having outsmarted him. “You can feed without hurting him.”

She eyed Dontis wearily, not trusting his good intentions, but she made no indication to flinch back or attack as he drew closer. Her mouth was smeared with blood, her pupils dilated from the dinner she had just snatched.

“My name is Dontis,” he said, giving her his warm smile. “Let him go, come on. I can show you how to do it properly. I have had many vampire friends over the centuries. Believe me, I am well versed in every aspect of your nature.”

The man whimpered, shaking terribly in the vampire’s grasp. 

“I can help you,” he said, reaching out a hand — if to gently pry the man from her grasp or tug her away from him, you would never find out. 

A shot echoed through the alley. Dontis jumped. The man flinched, squeezing his eyes shut as if the reality of his situation would disappear in the darkness. 

The vampire’s gaze was wide. She slumped against the wall, releasing the man with a final grunt and a poisoned bullet. Your gaze was fixed on her, the gun clasped firmly in your hand. 

“No!” Dontis roared, sinking to his knees, hands hovering in front of the slumped figure, trying to think about the best course of action while shock kept him in place. The feeling was foreign. Having lived as long as he had, it was a rare occasion to catch him off guard. He had lived through unimaginable horror, had weathered betrayals, and lost people dear to his heart over and over and over again. 

He liked to think his heart had become acquainted with suffering, but seeing the twitching figure of the vampire before him — so clearly a fledgling, recently turned and overwhelmed with their new impulses, in need of guidance, in need of help, cut through the layers of numbness and brought him back to a time where he had seen dozens of mythics tortured and slaughtered because humans simply feared what they did not know.

Her terrified eyes met his, a strangled whimper escaping her as the poison of the bullet worked its way through her body, dragging her further down, and pulling her into the depths of an eternal sleep. 

Dontis reached out a hand, slowly moving it to her cheek to offer comfort as she slipped away. He pretended not to notice her flinching, he pretended not to notice his eyes watering as she leaned against his palm, her hand shooting up to grip him as if she could escape this sinking, drowning feeling by clinging to him. 

He pretended not to see her eyes fearfully glancing towards you, still standing immobile before them both. The man had bolted, running away as fast as his legs could carry as soon as you motioned for him to go. Muttering gasps of gratitude as his heart raced, gradually calming down from his panic while he ran away. 

A mythic killed because of human ignorance. A vampire killed because of human fear. A fledgling killed because of your selfishness.

She trembled under his palm, her grip involuntarily loosening as she succumbed to the poison. Dontis gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly until he stopped feeling her body shaking, until the heart pounding frantically in fear ceased to beat. He squeezed his eyes shut, lowering her back against the wall gently, knowing vampires took care of their own. 

There was blood on his hands, a prominent stain of her blood against his chest, but as he rose and turned to face you, for the first time he saw clearly how much deeper your hands were stained in red. 

“Why?” he asked, keeping his voice level despite the turmoil raging in his chest. 

You took a deep breath, looking him in the eye. There was not an ounce of regret in your gaze, not a breath of sorrow for the life lost — for the one you had taken. 

“Vampires are dangerous,” you said, your voice steely cold. Hunter, he called you. Sometimes he forgot you were. “This one could not control her impulses, and she was feeding off a human. I could not stand by and let her tear that man’s throat out.”

“I had it under control,” he said, clenching his fists. The injustice was making his blood boil. How dare you kill someone to protect your own? How dare you shoot before attempting talking, reasoning, discussing. This spilled blood could have been avoided. So many bloodied conflicts could have been avoided if people just took the time to listen before reaching for their weapons, letting their own fears guide them, that the other might strike first. 

“I could not take that chance.”

“You did not want to. You humans, you’re too convinced of your superiority, thinking a human life is worth more than that of a mythic,” he spat, the anger seeping into his tone catching you off guard. 

You blinked, staring at Dontis with wide eyes, searching his gaze as you tried to make sense of the darkness you found in his eyes. He looked angry. He sounded angry. But you had never thought he could be. 

He sounded less agitated after you tried to kill him. Even then, he had looked at you with a quiet understanding in his eyes, talking you through the misunderstanding, comforting you afterward with no resentment towards the harm you had meant inflicting on him. 

The fury burning in his eyes now felt so uncharacteristic, that you found yourself at a loss as to how to react. You felt like you did not know the person before you at all, and the thought that this Dontis was unpredictable — that there was a layer to him previously unknown to you — made your body tense. 

“She was a fledgling,” he said quietly, the anguish in his voice slowly chasing away the scorching rage for a moment. 

You narrowed your gaze. “She was dangerous.”

The fury returned in full force. His face darkened like the sky before a storm, and Dontis took a step forward as he screamed at you, trying to make you understand, trying to mend the divide between humans and mythics in your mind and cut through your years of training to shut your heart off and block out the suffering and death you caused. “She was a child!”

You flinched, taking a step back from him on instinct as your hand flew to your belt, resting on your gun. 

His eyes followed your movement. You saw the flash of betrayal glinting in them. 

“Do you want to shoot me too?” he asked tonelessly, the bleak monotone a striking contrast to the voice you had heard moments ago, so full of pain and anger and emotion. “Go ahead. You’re selfish enough to shoot everything that scares you without thought. Go on if you’re afraid of me. You mindless, heartless murderer. Shoot me then, like you did her!”

You stepped back further, fighting the instinct to do just that. You knew Dontis. He would never hurt anyone. Would he? He looked angry enough to tear your heart out or entice you with whatever powers he had. You were sure he could hear your heart trying to carve its way out of your chest. 

“Stop it,” you whispered, your hand on the gun twitching. No, he would not hurt you. You were sure of that. You let go of the gun, raising your open hands to show him you were not going to shoot him. 

Dontis looked at you for a long moment. “I never want to see you again,” he said, the anger slipping, replaced with hurt and utter disappointment. “Leave. Return to your purposeless life and do what you must. Even your father came to tears when I called him a murderer, but you—”

“Dontis—”

“No,” he said, holding up a hand. “We are through. You are perhaps the only person on this earth I never want to cast eyes on again.”

His words sliced through you like a knife, leaving you breathless as you stood frozen, trying to think of a retort, trying to figure out if he was serious. Before you could mutter a word, Dontis gave you a last dark, bitterly disappointed look — as if you had shot him, buried a knife in his back, and torn out his horns in a heart-wrenching act of betrayal — and turned his back to you. 

Dontis’ anger was rare, but it consumed him whole, turning his usually understanding and comforting character into one so ruthlessly cold that you felt all your strings being snapped at once, the life you were painstakingly beginning to build up crushed in an instant by an echo of your past, an unforgivable mistake — to Dontis’ eyes, and the longer you thought about it, replaying the scene of the fledgling vampire, her terrified eyes, her bruising grip as she desperately clung to life, to your eyes as well. 

Perhaps you were beginning to understand. Dontis was not around to take note of it, true to his word that he never wanted to see you again. 

Honoring his wish was the only thing you could do, leaving your family’s emblem on his doorstep before leaving New Orleans, a silent plea if not for forgiveness, at least as a token to appease the anger you knew still boiled in him when he thought of the vampire you had killed. 

Not forgiveness for the blood on your hands. Never that.

[eden-writes-stuff]

Tags: mtf!'harry'; he/him pronuns until the middle, use of deadname until end; teacher!Remus; genderfluid!Sirius; ftm!Regulus; Angst; hints at wolfstar

Wordcount: 1260

The first try failed miserably.

When he returned to himself, Lupin was by his side, helping him up. "It's alright. I didn't expect you to do it the first time. That would have been remarkable." He pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket. "Here, eat this. You'll feel better."

Harry could still feel the cold, the icy grip on his heart, the numbness. "That was one nasty Dementor."

"Oh, no. That was a Boggart, Harry. The real thing would have been a lot worse." 

Lupin started to relight the candles with his fingers while Harry scrambled back to his feet.

"As a matter of interest, what were you thinking?" "The first time I rode a broom."

Lupin turned toward him. "That's not good enough, not nearly." Harry tried not to be disappointed. Deep inside, he knew there was only one right memory. One time he had felt truly comfortable in his own skin. But it was wrong and strange... and yet...

"There's another... It's the happiest I've ever felt. But it's complicated", he explained, not daring to look at the teacher.

"Is it strong?" 

Harry nodded, heart pounding.

"Then let's give it a try. Do you feel ready?" He drew his wand, pointing it at the chest.

"Just do it." This time when Lupin opened the chest, he felt more confident. He remembered what it had been like.

The sudden change of his body. Long black hair, softer curves, wider hips, a different voice... He remembered finally seeing herself in the mirror. The pure euphoria. She remembered people laughing, but it didn't matter because, for the first time in her life, she had felt beautiful.

The stag burst out of the tip of the wand, cornering the Dementor until it was back in its prison. Lupin looked up in wonder.

"Fucking hell! Sorry. You didn't hear that. That was amazing. Truly wonderful, here..." He pulled his chocolate out again, while Harry wiped away a few tears. Why was she- he- she crying? A look of concern crossed the teacher's face. "Let's take a break, shall we."

Without a word, Harry sat on the stairs, staring at the wall.

"Do you want to talk about this memory?" The kid hesitated. She trusted Lupin. Something about his calm, warm way made him seem like he could make the entire world be okay.

"It was a prank Malfoy pulled on me last year... He... turned me into a girl. It's stupid. I don't even know why it affected me that much, but it just felt right. I know it's not. I'm a boy, I always have been, but I... I felt so comfortable for the next few hours."

"Har-" Lupin interrupted himself. "Listen, I'm not pretending to be all-knowing. Only you can know who you are and how you feel, but I would like to tell you about two friends of mine who might have had similar experiences."

The thirteen-year-old looked up. It was obviously not easy for the teacher to talk about this, but he continued anyway. "They were siblings. One was born as a boy, the other as a girl. But it turned out that neither of those terms really fit them. The 'girl' felt more comfortable with short hair and the other sibling's clothes, because they didn't show off as much of the body. Soon this child decided to tell their friends to refer to him with 'he', rather than 'she'. Not long after he changed his name. And the people who truly cared about him accepted it. He was a lot happier that way and felt more like himself. He changed his appearance permanently."

"So he lived as a boy? And people were just fine with that?" "Well, not everyone obviously. But there will always be people who don't agree with who you are or how you present yourself. He just made sure people disliked who he really was." Lupin gave her a small smile.

"What about your other friend?" His gaze grew distant. "He never cared what people thought of him. One of the bravest people I ever knew." Probably without even knowing it his thumb traced one of the scars on his hand. "He would change his appearance and how people referred to her based on her mood. Some days she felt more like a woman, others like a man, others like none. Not caring what anyone had to say about it. Just because he knew he only had limited time on this earth and she wasn't going to waste any of it." He took a deep breath and looked over to her again.

"Do you see yourself in either of them?" "I... I don't know. Can you maybe try it out? Talking about me with she?" the professor nodded. "Of course", he turned toward an imaginary audience. "This is my student. She managed to summon a patronus today, and as her teacher, I am very proud of her. She likes to play Quidditch, but sadly her broom broke a few weeks ago. I hope she finds a new one that will equally serve its purpose." Lupin looked at her again, who couldn't help but smile.

"So you like it?" "Yes. It... I can't even describe it. Just... yes." She grinned widely, but then hesitated. "What about a name?" "Do you want a new one? You don't have to change anything you don't want to change." "I would like a new name, but... Well, my parents gave it to me and- "Your parents were two of the most supportive and accepting people in the world. They would have loved you, regardless of your gender or name; regardless of anything. You don't need to worry about them."

Slowly she nodded. "Can I just pick any name?" "Anyone you like. It doesn't need to be right away either, you can take as much time as you need. You can choose it when you're 70 or 110." "Do you know, if my parents had any ideas if I was.. born a girl?" Lupin thought for a while.

"In general, the Potters have a tradition of naming their kids after themselves. You have your father's first name as your second name, he had his father's name as a second name. So you could use Lily as a second name if you want to keep that going. Other than that your mom was very keen on naming you after one of their friends, but James thought that would get confusing very quickly. Now I don't believe that will be a problem anymore. You almost would have been named... after your godfather. As for female friends; There were Marlene and Mary, who were your mother's best friends. We used to call them the Valkyries. Marlene had a very close friend called Dorcas, also a brilliant woman. And then there was Pandora, who... was also very close to your mother. And of course, your grandmother, Euphemia."

"Pandora Lily Potter... Pandora Potter." She let the name roll off her tongue a few times. "I think I like that one..." Professor Lupin smiled. "Do you think I can tell my friends?" "I don't know. You need to manage that yourself. However, if you are looking for support, I know that Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout will not let anyone treat you badly because of that. And neither will I."

Pandora nodded and rose from the stairs. "Can we maybe continue practice another time? I have a lot to think about." "Of course. Take as much time as you need. You have done amazing today. Much better than I ever anticipated. I'll see you in classes then, Pandora..."

[hey-august]

I'll Be Your Whatever - Story Hiatus

Description: Life is full of all sorts of characters - some who come and go, and others that stay. After propelling yourself into a lie you can't (won't) take back, a certain pirate captain may have a reason to come by more often. (Story tag)

Alrighty, I would very very much like to come back to this fic one day, but I truly do not know when that will happen. I think the outline I put together took away some of the drive to write the actual story, but I still want to SO BADLY.

So this story doesn't remain unfinished for however long, I'm going to share the outline I put together using beat sheets and story arcs.

Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @ane5e @venulus @misadventures0fdes You asked to be included in the tag list for the story, so I'm also tagging you here. I'm sorry for dropping the story and this hiatus, but I hope knowing that the ending exists brings some peace!

For reference: CB = Captain Buggy, MC = Main Character (aka, you, the reader!) WC: ~1.4k

As a recap of the story so far, MC tried to get 2 overly flirtatious guys off her back by saying a stranger passing by was her boyfriend. That stranger was Buggy, of course lol. Trying to stay low and play the part, MC and CB kiss. They joke about CB continuing to be a boyfriend and MC mentions having a treasure chest. A few days later, CB shows up at MCs place with flowers and saying he'll agree to be her boyfriend if she promises him the treasure map.

Chapter 4

They go on a mini date, as a way for them to talk about the agreement - they talk about the timeline and how long to "date." They decide to go get lunch.

Hot dog lunch. Hint at CBs favorite food.

CB blows kisses to MC while she’s in line.

Contract: 

Don’t tell the truth -  a deal’s a deal

MC pays for food

Compliments for Buggy

Hold hands

Kissing? We’ll figure it out if we need to

Buggy has to stop by whenever he’s in town

Buggy goes to the town festival - MC tries to convince CB to agree to go to a town festival in a few weeks or whatever, long enough for dudebros to lose interest. Offers a treasure map.

"If I’m being totally honest, that sounds like my worst nightmare."

MC stands up to someone who tries to insult Buggy’s nose. Fiery. They have to leave wherever they were. CB is impressed by her spunk.

B Story - CB inviting MC to visit the ship. 

At some point CB invites her, a shadow passes over her face, he asks if she really dislikes the idea that much.

MC feels stuck to the small town and guilt about her dad missing those kinds of experiences. She looks at Buggy's eyes and sees the draw of the ocean in them. Whatever enticed Buggy and her dad to love the sea, is reflected in his eyes.

Chapter 5

Fun and Games - coming to the weekend market

Oh yeah, no he said he wasn’t able to make it. But! CB shows up unexpectedly. YN blows him a kiss and he catches it.

CB gets into a scuffle at the weekend market.

Rowdy customer, "how about I pay you in kisses, pretty thing? No? Whatever, this shit isn’t even that good."

“no one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? no one.”

They eat fresh donuts, “oh you have to try these, they’re my favorite,” MC dabs some powdered sugar off the corner of his mouth.

Test of love trope! Conducted by a new jewelry shop. Start easy - eye color, fave food, feed each other, draw each other, blindfold and guess their partners hands, winners get matching bracelets. This is their first kiss.

CB putting the bracelet on MC "This means you’re mine. That’s what you wanted, right?" She gets A LOT of butterflies.

Walking back, the pictures they drew of each other blow away and fall into a tide pool. MC wading through water to get the drawings.

He made the day so special and she doesn’t want this to ruin it.

The drawing / picture she made isn’t that bad, he actually kinda likes it himself. So MC gives it to him. He becomes more enamored with it when she goes to save it from the water.

Nearby sailors / pirates laugh at MC in the water (lighthearted), she calls back that it’s not like they don’t get dirty treasure hunting.

CB gets butterflies from her insistence and calling the papers treasure.

Piggy back ride home? Slightly spicy. It was like their skin was calling out for the other's gentle touch.

Chapter 6

Fun and Games cont - MC said she would see CB off the next day but she doesn’t show up because she’s sick from the previous night.

CB comes by, sees that she’s okay but sick. 

He leaves for a moment and comes back with some stuff to help her feel better. He also postponed shipping off until the next day.

She bashfully asks if he’ll stay a little longer. He stays until she falls asleep.

MC calls him pretty boy and he hecking likes it.

She wakes up the next day to a note telling her that he won’t be in the area for a while.

Chapter 7

Mini scene, MC notices that the dudebros seem to have moved on. They asked for a double/triple date, but MC deflects bc who knows when CB will be in town.

MC mentions this to CB in passing.

Midpoint - Next time, MC visits CBs ship. It’s a good visit. Overall a positive experience. There is some real-ness to life aboard the ship.

Cabaji shows unicycling, meet Mohji and Richie, CB shows off knife throwing (maybe a contest between him and Cabaji, CB wins and Cabaji says at least he’s better at unicycling)

Buggy helps rig the new sails

Pirates swap stories. Talking about what it was like adjusting to life on the ship, but how amazing it is. All the sights and experiences. She has stars in her eyes while listening. Her mind sketching images of what’s being described. She’s even comfortable talking about her dad.

How do you tell your fake bf that you're nervous near him because you're starting to fall for him?

MC likes seeing CBs swagger and how his crew adores him. CB puts his hand on her shoulder and kneads.

She stays overnight (one bed), CB doesn’t sleep.

Chapter 8

Bad Guys Close In - As MC leaves, she’s accosted by pirate thugs, who notice she’s been hanging around CB.

Maybe they think she’s a sex worker? Sugar baby? She tries to say that’s not it, then they think she must be something more special. They could probably get a ransom.

Chop chop Buggy comes in to save the day. Or CB throws a knife, trapping them. CB walks her back home, tries to make it seem light hearted, doesn’t want MC to be too afraid.

MC is a bit unphased since pirates are always visiting.

MC kisses CB goodbye on the cheek. “Could you try that again?” “Better?” “Yeah…”

Chapter 9

All is Lost - Break up because CB is afraid MC will become a target. CB breaks up with YN, afraid of putting her in danger.

Even though CB dealt with those other pirates, that doesn’t mean there won’t be others 

He doesn’t want to put her in danger any longer. Besides, the guys she was avoiding seem to have moved on.

MC asks if he found someone else, something more fun, feels cruel because they don't really think that's what's happening.

I guess my expectations were too high.

Dark of the Night - MC storms back and hands off the map. "A deal’s a deal and I don’t want to be in debt to a pirate."

Wrapped around the map is her bracelet.

Chapter 10

Dark of the Night - Why does CB change his mind? - He reads a letter on the back of the map and realizes he should give it back to MC.

Break into Three - CB's waiting for her at the party. A deal’s a deal. He also gives back the map and leaves.

MC probably talking with the art shop owner:"He likes you, I can tell by how he looks at you." "How does he look at me?"

"You think he's really waiting for me?"

Finale - MC reads the note on the map and runs to the dock for CB. 

Note, from dad: “My dearest seashell, I thought being a pirate was how I could see the world, but then you came along and I saw the world through your eyes. Thank you for giving me the greatest gift anyone could ask for. I hope that one day, you find your key to the world.”

CBs not there? He’s by the wading pools, looking at the moon and drinking alone.

CB moping

How long do you think it’ll take for this to become a memory? Do you think you’ll forget about me?

They wanted to be touched, to be missed, to be loved. Was that too much to ask for?

He’s wearing both bracelets.

"Why did you come back?" "Because that belongs to you, it has your name on it."

"Bullshit, Buggy. You’re a pirate. A treasure hunter. Why did you really come back?"

"Why do you think?"

"You actually wanted to go to the festival?"

"That’s not what I want."

Anguished declaration of love - confessing love during a moment of angst

"I don’t want to stay here anymore. I want to leave. I want to draw the world you see."

MC is steadfast and waits for Buggy to respond. “I want that too.”

Big romantic kiss

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Do you want to?"

"Yes, you have no idea how much I've thought about this."