#work was really frustrating today so i was like. i need to draw something silly to relax. and then i locked in and painted all that

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Cookies

Relationship: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: angst and fluff :) Reader tries to bake Wanda some cookies but her emotions bubble over when things don’t go to plan. Good thing Wanda is there to make it all better.

Tw: negative self talk, minor injury.

Word: 1k

A/n: i really wanted to post wayyy more this month but i ended up back in hospital again :/ i started writing this weeks ago but it’s finally done.

This week had been exhausting. With December arriving the deadlines for your assignments were drawing closer. You had several projects that would need turning in soon, most of which you hadn’t even looked at yet. The stress was mounting inside you and what wasn’t helping was the absence of your girlfriend. Wanda.

She’d been pulled away on a mission leaving you alone for the past few days. You missed her deeply. She had sent you a text about the most recent battle making your struggles pale in comparison. The safety of humanity vs an end of term paper wasn’t something even worth debating.

So you didn’t mention it. Besides she was coming home today so you spent the day cleaning; making sure Wanda could relax and put her feet up as soon as she got home to your shared apartment. You’d gone grocery shopping and picked up some fresh flowers as well as ingredients to bake her favourite double chocolate cookies.

As you scrubbed down the bathroom counters all you could think about was your work. An attempt was made to start a project but you didn’t get very far. All the staring at a blank word doc had done was give you a headache. You were so lost in thought of your earlier failure you hadn’t registered the kitchen timer going off.

“Fuck!” You said after checking the time seeing it had been two hours since you put the cookies in the oven. You hurried to the kitchen after smelling the burning. Stupidly you opened the oven door, momentarily blinding yourself as a cloud of smoke engulfed the room setting off the smoke alarm.

“No no no…” Wanda would be home soon and you’d ruined the surprise. Too busy thinking about your own problems. There wasn’t enough time nor did you have enough ingredients to bake another batch. Everything was going wrong today. You couldn’t do anything right. Frantically waving your hands about you tried to clear the smoke. The alarm yelled at you for your mistakes. Its noise stopped you from hearing the front door open.

“Y/n?!” Wanda rushed to the kitchen after seeing the smoke, worried something was on fire, but all she saw was you frantically waving your hands around. She smiled slightly before using her magic to clear the air.

You jumped and quickly spun around as you realized who was there. “W-Wanda!” Instinctively you reached for the tray of cremated cookies, wanting to hide the evidence but forgetting they would still be hot. The hot metal tray burnt your skin and you let out a paid cry.

“Baby no,” Wanda looked concerned as she hurried over to help, “shhhh it’s okay.” She took your hand in hers as she used her magic to heal you but the damage had been done. The small burn had opened the flood gates and weeks of stress began to pour out.

“Does it still hurt?” Wanda asked as you started to cry. You shook your head no. “Whats wrong baby… tell me.” You lean back on the kitchen counter sliding down to the floor. Wanda sits next to you.

You felt silly crying like this. Face red, eyes squeezed tight, loudly sobbing in front of your girlfriend. Frustrated and angry at yourself for not being able to function like everyone else. Wanda looked at you with nothing but concern. “Baby please tell me whats wrong. Are you hurt? Do you not feel well?”

“Just… college work,” you manage to squeeze some words past your sobs. “Been stressed…” You felt embarrassed telling Wanda you’re stressed. She just got back from a life threatening mission and here you are complaining about your stupid day to day life. What you were going through was nothing compared to the dangerous, life threatening, world ending—

“Hey! Your life isn’t stupid.” Wanda interrupts your thoughts catching you off guard.

“No mind reading!” You shot back after you realized what she was doing.

“Sorry baby,” She said guiltily, “but the other half of that deal is be honest with me. I know I was busy but you can still tell me if something wrong.” Wanda looked up at the attempt at cookies and back down at you. “You’re so selfless baby. You did all this for me even when you felt like this?”

You flop over onto your side and pull your legs to your chest, hiding your face. “Doesn’t matter I ruined it. I’m the worst girlfriend ever.”

Wanda laughs, “oh? You’re the worst girlfriend ever are you?”

“…yeah”

“I don’t know, i don’t think the worst girlfriend ever would clean the whole apartment top to bottom, buy fresh flowers and bake my favorite cookies all while dealing with so much else.” You sit back up and see Wanda staring at you with so much love in her eyes it makes you tear up all over again.

“I’m sorry…”

“Shhhh baby,” Wanda pulls you into a hug. “No more apologies. Let’s go cuddle on the couch. Let me take care of my favourite girl.” She pulls you up off the floor and carries you into the living room. You love how Wanda could effortlessly pick you up. It makes you feel so safe to be held in her arms. She sits down on the couch with you on her lap.

“I can make you cookies tomorrow promise.” You say getting comfortable and snuggling into your girlfriend.

“Okay but we’re going to make your favorite not mine, deal?” Wanda whispers in your ear as she rubs circles on your back.

“Deal.” After a stressful day you feel yourself relax against your girlfriend. Tomorrow would be better.

[ban--tam]

logh dogs: reuenthal vs lang (screenshot redraw)

[giannaln4]

Silly Little Bet

lando norris x artist!reader

summary: You were an artist and Lando loved to do what you did best with you, even if he wasn't very good at it. (917 words)

warnings: this turns into a make out (not heavy, very short), use of y/n

a/n: hi lovelies! i know i said i was going to take a little break, but honestly i just need to not think about quali today (still crying about it idk what to tell you). anyway, this is incredibly short so i’m sorry but i still hope you enjoy it! pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻 i also wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me and sent support ❤️‍🩹 ily all so much, i really appreciate it!!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Quiet nights were your absolute favourites. Getting to spend time with your boyfriend without having to worry about some schedule one of you had to stick to was perfect, to say the least. You always found a way to occupy yourselves, doing anything and nothing at the same time. 

Tonight, though, you got to do one of your favourite activities: art. You were an artist, a professional one, and of course he loved that about you; he loved seeing you in your element, so focused on what you did best, and even though he didn’t know yet, you loved dragging him with you so you could see him struggle a bit to at least not be the worst artist the world has ever seen.

Now, he was extremely talented, and if he weren’t a racer, he would be somewhat of an artist; he’s said it himself many times, but that was before he met you, because compared to you, he would never say that about himself, no matter how many times you have said it to him. 

Right now, you found yourselves sitting on your shared bed, facing each other, trying to win a silly little bet you made earlier. It was simple, really. You were supposed to draw the other person, and whoever loses would have to come up with a plan for dinner, which the both of you already knew would end up being a homemade meal, eating it on the couch, and watching some dumb show. This really worked out for him because, as talented as he was, he still struggled to draw real people, and he knew he was setting himself up when he accepted.

You knew that too, and you also knew he only gave in so he could have another one of your drawings of him. But that was okay, because another one of your favourite things was to admire his focused expression while he tried to replicate someone on a blank piece of paper. 

If he was being completely honest, the top reason he loved doing some type of art with you was because you would always come up to him and help with something, holding and guiding his hand or just being really close to his face as you explained something, so he would never say no to that suggestion.

“Okay, so I do you and you do me. Do I have to paint it as well?” He asked as you poured some of your art supplies on the bed.

“No, just a quick sketch,” you replied, scanning the bed as you carefully chose the pencil you wanted to use. “I’m starving, anyway.”

You started sketching each other; you were faster (and probably better) than him, but you couldn’t help but blush any time his eyes fixated on your face for too long, studying every aspect of you to try to draw it. After several minutes, you were done, just finishing up a few details before placing the paper on the bedside table next to you, away from him so he wouldn’t see it yet.

“How is it going?” You asked.

He looked up at you and yelled, “Don’t move!” When you started to get up.

"Sorry,” you whispered, going back to your previous position.

You stayed like that for a while, watching as Lando looked at you repeatedly and then back at the paper, occasionally erasing stuff. He was almost done, but there was one thing holding him back. “I can’t get it right,” he sighed, dropping the pencil.

“What can’t you get right?”

“Your lips. They look too big or too small, and now the paper looks worn out from erasing so much.” He was clearly frustrated.

“Can I see it?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lando asked you with an embarrassed look.

“Of course I’m not going to laugh; why would I do that?”

“You are a real artist, Y/N. You finished a while ago, and I’ve been stuck here trying to fix it, but I’ve only made it worse.”

“Lando, you are actually talented; I don’t make you do art with me because I wanna have a laugh. C’mon, show me.”

He sighed again and slowly turned the paper, showing you the drawing. “It looks terrible.”

Your eyes set on the paper, and an endeared smile appeared on your face. “It looks great, baby.”

"No, it doesn’t; as I said, you’re an artist, and you know exactly what’s wrong with it.”

“I mean it." You whispered, leaving your spot on the bed and sitting next to him, “Maybe the proportions are a bit off, but it does look great, I promise.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a smile, a moment of silence filling the room as you both stared at the drawing. “You know, maybe I just need to take a closer look at them.”

“Oh- I guess that would be helpful." You turned your body to face him, cupping his cheek and brushing away a few curls that rested on his forehead. “Do you want help?”

He nodded and broke the distance between you, locking his lips with yours as he pulled you onto his lap and his hands fell on your hips to intensify the kiss. You got closer and closer, pausing when your bodies couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other even if you tried.

“You know I can actually help you,” you said against his lips and in between kisses.

“Uh huh” Lando replied, not really thinking about the drawing anymore.

[nitro-nova]

Birthday devblog

I'll post a small oops large gamedev update on Combat Nightsuit Saboteur. My last post about it was in April.

During that month, I started working on concept art for the character and sprite.

Starting to get into May, I was working on art for interior areas like you're seeing above, and was starting to develop an idea for the art direction overall. Developing art assets like these while maintaining a full-time job is pretty difficult (every game's a miracle blah blah blah), so I had to accept that my pace would be slow.

I was doing some basic level designs here and testing them out with Clem while taking notes on feedback. I was researching platformers as I was doing this, so it took a little time.

In July, I wanted to find ways to mitigate how long it took to develop art assets. I started working on a prototyping art style so that I could have something in place. I also made a tool for calculating pixel art columns and gutter widths.

I also started taking notes on what lightness values of the character to avoid using in my assets, so that she doesn't blend in too easily. I took a break afterward to visit family with Clem.

I resumed work in August and started sketching out ideas for individual rooms.

I use GIMP for pixel art, but one of the unfortunate gripes I have is that its color palette mapping produces inconsistent artifacts. To combat this, I employed Dither Machine for more consistent pixel gradients.

By September though, I was getting frustrated with my pace, and a burning thing in the back of my mind was that even though the scope was small, the game wasn't fun or interesting, and I wasn't even making progress in the one level I was planning.

I mean, up until this point, I was trying to be kind to myself. I had a full-time job and was sleeping 6-7 hours a night so I could use the time after 10 hour shifts to draw pixel art and watch videos. I was making time for friends and going out with them.

Maybe I have an attention disorder? I do watch more YouTube than I really should (generally I try to use it for listening to music while I create, but I admit I sometimes get sidetracked by bops too lol). I imagine getting suboptimal sleep every day and having to catch up on weekends doesn't help.

I decided in September to change the project. An increase in scope, because I needed to make something I was more familiar with. Six characters, but you only play as one. No longer a jump-and-shoot, but a Strider-like, with an added focus on a beat-em-up combat system. I spent a few days writing backstories and getting the setting more in order, which would help me develop assets with more direction to it.

I refined my character sprite some more, started working on animations.

This shift in design was giving me a second wind, and I knew that I needed a more-than-basic platforming system. I was also promoted at my job, which came with a schedule change (I also got married lol, October was a big month). I decided to adjust my sleep schedule to 8-9 hours a night, and dedicate a single hour per work day for chores. As of today I am much healthier.

October was a major programming month. I started development on what I do best -- a Strider-like platforming engine.

Running, jumping, walljumping, corner grabbing, and ceiling grabbing were implemented. By the end of October, I was finished and successfully deployed the code into the project. To celebrate, I played around with anime color palettes and tried out my art style with a Blender project.

God it looks badass, I don't regret spending time on that art, after all. Despite how much I suffer, productivity-wise, it's stuff like this that motivates me to push on and create. It sounds a bit silly, but this image saved this project from death, because I can't let go of how much I dream of making games and animations.

If I really do finish this project, I can only imagine how much the world would like it. I just know I'm cooking, here. I've been thinking about inviting friends to help (the promotion came with an income increase, but it mainly helps me afford things more comfortably, sadly). I know for sure I need a project manager who may be able to secure full-time development funding, a Kanamori of sorts, to help develop a schedule and try to stick to it. Artists and quality checkers would be amazing, too.

November's development is smaller, but that's because it focused a ton on figuring out a pixel art animation process.

A/B Pose Sketches: Sketching multiple before after poses, like the ones my friend Rawri drew.

Selection, mainly determining which A and B sketches look best.

Joint-Keyframing: Those are the head and joint versions you see me make, with the pink helmet.

In-Betweens: Planning how the motion is meant to carry out.

Limb Shaping: Adding the limb silhouettes

Detailing: Adding the blues, golds, silvers, and black parts. Includes a check for any details I missed.

And that's where I'm currently at!

Edit: Actually, no, I need to say that people HAVE been helping me, here's who I'm shouting out:

Clementine - My wife! Thank you for loving me and supporting me and buying groceries and cooking meals for me and working hard. Genuinely I could never make progress without you helping me.

Mechanicalrot - Our partner! You also help give advice on projects and cook sometimes. I love you as well!

Robin and Eli - My family. Thank you for also buying groceries and helping me with dishes/trash and for your support. (strange-alchemy gets a shoutout for being supportive as well <3)

Saphica - Additional moral support and partner in crime. Thank you for reviewing my artwork and helping me stay positive even when I was feeling rough.

Rawrienstein and AndromedaZach - Amazing friends lending their art experience to help improve my art and animations. It means a lot that you hope for my success.

Rose - Another wonderful friend, thank you for having us over and cooking and showing me movies.

Jaycee - Wonderful friend, thanks for liking my posts and supporting me, too. :]

[gecko-in-a-can]

Hi hello yes my beloved mutual, my ADHD brain decided today was the day I wanna make an earnest attempt at art. Do u have any tips I'm gathering tips and references like a goblin until I get home

absolutely! First off: YAAAAY IM SO GLAD!!! I hope you have fun with it, art can be as frustrating as it is rewarding, but so long as it brings you joy then that’s what matters!

As for tips, I can only speak from a personal degree but here’s what helps me:

don’t be afraid to use reference! I generally use at least four different reference pictures for my drawings, many of which are for different sections of the body/setting.

experiment! No art style is going to start out where you want it, so have fun with it! Try new techniques and methods, you might find something you really like!

ALWAYS DO WARMUPS AND TAKE BREAKS! Both warmup drawings and stretches! Your wrist/shoulder/arm is going to get sore after a while, so don’t be worried to set your tablet/pencil down for a minute to rest! This also works when you’re frustrated with something you’re drawing. Sometimes you just need to take a step away and come back later with fresh eyes and fresh ideas!

when it comes to warmup drawings you can have fun with it. Draw silly guys, practice shapes, do random doodles, it’s just to get yourself ready for your project so have fun!!!!

watch other artists draw. There are a lot of artists on YouTube (I personally usually go to Drawfee) who show their process!

draw things you like! Things that bring you joy! Things that make you happy to see!

[battle-of-alberta]

meta thoughts i am having today, i think it's interesting how i will meticulously study scenes in calgary to make sure you know it's calgary, but when it comes to drawing my own city its like "city hall be upon ye" over and over and I'm trying to figure out why that is and why i am so reticent about injecting more edmonton-ness despite spending the majority of my time here and unwittingly contributing to the 'edmonton is a nebulous vague idea with a loose identity' or 'edmonton is a sketchy, depressing place' that i wanted to combat.

i think part of it is i feel self conscious about putting everything i do with my pals into my comics for some reason, which is silly. part of it is also because a lot of things i do "from life" are every day chores that are either very generic or somewhat particular to the area i live which i don't want to overdraw from. another part of it is because i work for an organization that focuses on edmonton history i'm conscious about leaning on it too much, because while it is super interesting i also feel weird about it?? and i also fall into this spiral of wanting to portray times and places i didn't live in "correctly" and end up doing nothing at all.

apart from the psychological hurdles i'm starting to identify in my own mind... as much as i draw ed as the snarky and sarcastic wet blanket most of the time and particularly to channel my political frustrations... i do really love edmonton and i think there are a lot of amazing beautiful things here, as well as silly things... but I take a lot of things harder as well because it strikes closest to home for me when bad things happen or i see chronic problems, and i usually use ed to express that. as a result calvin doesn't carry as much of the "baggage" and he's easier to write and for other people to relate to as a result. It's a lot harder to portray my own city by virtue of being my own city but also because we have our own chronic self image problems that are thankfully changing, it's just how to portray them to other people that is difficult for me.

anyway, tldr, i've just been looking at my art and feeling unsatisfied, so i need to go outside more and start looking at things with fresh eyes again i think! or, at least, use the zillions of reference photos i take every day for Something. It's my absolute favourite time of year and I want to be out in it.

[worldwright]

Good evening !

Nothing particular happened today -other than cuddling with my partner this morning because they needed it, one day we'll be sleeping in each other arms, it'll be good for both of us. Also their dog is so stupid I can't-

Like, he doesn't listen to my partner, but me ? Hell yeah, he'd listen to me. This dog doesn't understand anything, it's ridiculous, and I thought my Laika was stupid but he's on another whole level, there's nothing going behind his eyes

I'm (re)working on my JJK OCs, my old one and my new one (and they don't have name ?!), I made them siblings because I thought it was funny -also because I couldn't abandon the old one. Maybe I'll post some of their drawings later. Also trying to learn how to draw Itadori (for an AU where everything's fine). OMFG HIS HAIR. HIS HAIR IS SO DIFFICULT. ONE WOULD THINK THAT CHOSO'S HARDER TO DRAW BUT NOPE.

Have a wonderful morning !

mannnnnn sometimes I wish I could draw and then I see something that im Very glad I do Not have to draw 😂😂

still wish I could draw OCs tho :'( I have some d&d characters that I really want to be able to bring to life

silly dogs make me so happy omg, it's like sometimes you feel bad calling them stupid but !! sometimes they really are just stupid!!! dumb little babies!!! so much love and so little brain!!!!

my apartment key situation ended with very little fuss actually, I managed to chat with the temporary building manager this morning and she basically said I don't have time to bother charging you, here have this spare for free, don't lose it. so that honestly made it worth the frustration the past couple days!!

there was also a neighbor gathering last night that I managed to get to after I dropped off my ballot (I always procrastinate voting and miss the deadline to send it in the mail, so I have to go to one of the dedicated dropboxes 😭😭). there's some really cool people in my building!! I have promised simple sewing services in exchange for tasty recipes :3

have a lovely evening, friend!!

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #091

(taken december 18th last year; uploading surveys taken while gone)

Have you ever shared a house with a significant other? Not legally, but I stayed in that apartment way, way too regularly to be considered a "guest" by that point.

How are you feeling today? Happy, sad, or anything else? I am super fucking at peace, Girt stayed last night and the one before that and it was great. Roman and Cookie both slept with us, and it was just a sound, cozy night. I woke up when he did with his alarms to go to work and we were both super cuddly and it was just cute. After work he comes straight back here to stay again, and I am ACTUALLY considering trying to make dinner out of something for us so I can feel like a proper adult and helpful partner. Idc, I wanna do something nice and adult-y.

Who was the last person that made you upset? What did they do? I am FULL prefacing this with the fact this was dumb as shit and I was absolutely being a brat, but I got frustrated I wanna say three nights ago when I was venting the tiniest bit to Girt and he took 'til like, midnight, when I was asleep, to reply. It's embarrassing to even share, like holy shit he has a life and responsibilities and also free time and such. He proves a million times over he cares and is absolutely always there for me, that night just sucked so pretty much everything was hurting me.

Do you have a crush on anyone? Tell me about them. "Crush" doesn't even begin to cover it. Been there for me consistently more than any friend I have ever, and I do mean ever, had. He's never lost faith that I can do great things and conquer what I'm afraid of. He makes me cry from laughing when I don't even want to smile. I feel like I can tell him pretty damn much anything. He's genuinely the most doting boyfriend ever and besides probably my mom of course, my biggest fan there is; he will hype me the fuck up over anything and supports me endlessly. He really appreciates and values my advice and opinions. He SOMEHOW acts entirely unashamed of me. I need to stop, I am too fucking emotional lately and am crying/fighting not to sob lmao jesus, he's just great.

Have you ever had something signed by someone famous? What and who? No but bitch I wish, there are some signatures I would frame lmao

Have you made out with anyone in the last 2 weeks? Yeah.

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days? No. I want laser hair removal on my legs so fucking bad, my legs humiliate me but for multiple reasons regularly shaving them just is not reasonable, or maybe even not possible right now.

Does anyone hate you? Probably. Quite sure there are people who do.

What bugs you about the last person you dated? She is, honestly, one of the biggest liars I have ever met, and has been SINCE we met. Among other things.

Have you ever felt replaced? Oh yes.

Have you ever played a drinking game? Which ones? No.

Did you ever play Neopets when you were younger? Oh yes, I was obsessed. Honestly, it started my computer addiction, I'm pretty sure. Omg I actually recently saw this tattoo featuring a sick tiger Neopet with the quote "we are all God's Neopets, and he forgot the password" and BOY I fucking CONSIDERED lmfao

Do you regularly check anyone’s profile online? Nope.

Have your parents ever worked in medicine? My mom was a pharmacy tech for quite a while.

Do you have any silly nicknames or pet names? I guess "Twinkie," which is the nickname my mom has used for me since I was a baby; she gave all her kids sweets nicknames, lol.

Are you any good at drawing? I guess, wish I was better though.

Is there anything unusual about your house? Uh I don't believe so.

Do you find it hard to talk to strangers, even people who work in stores? Yes, to such a debilitating degree that it has majorly affected my ability to work/find work I can function through.

How many wigs do you own? Zero.

Are your maternal/parental instincts strong? No, but more than they once were; I've helped my mom babysit my nieces and nephew so much that I guess they just naturally started to grow. Like I DO know I get way more upset when a baby cries than in the past, especially if they ARE my niece/nephew, like I get this desperate urge to fix whatever's wrong and I really feel like my heart hurts. It's weird, historically I've had stronger maternal-ish (major emphasis on "ish," don't make this weird) protection instincts over s/os, I've found especially if they're sick.

Do you feel confident in your body image? My self-confidence is in the fucking negatives and it's been getting to me even more than usual (which is already severely) the past few days.

Do you like country music? I hate it. In very rare instances, I'll hear a song I enjoy, but in general? I cannot stand it.

What was the last essay you remember writing about? Toxic masculinity. I wish I still had access to it, it was probably one of my favorite academic things I have ever written. My teacher loved it and used it as the example piece the following semester.

In your dream kitchen, would the worktops be marble or steel? Marble.

Who is considered the “black sheep” of your family? Why? Me. I am pretty starkly different from the general vibe and interests of my family.

What’s something you’re so good at that you take pride in your skill? I'm genuinely proud of my writing.

What’s the worst/best thing you’ve done without your parents knowing? My mom would probably kill me if she knew certain places I "did things" as a teen lmfao. Best, uhhhh... that's hard dude, my mom knows so, so, so much. I'm stumped enough to give in and also say the same things that qualified for "worst" kms 🥴

What’s a random funny scene from a movie that has stuck with you? Honestly a lot from White Chicks, that movie is so fucking memeable and I love it.

Would you date someone who still lived with their parents? I do that now, so yes. Although in Girt's situation, it's for his mom versus she housing him; she has mental health problems and couldn't work for many years, so she came back to Girt all the way from like Indiana or something and stayed with him because he's a fucking saint. He's basically run the place for he and Shelia for many years on his own, but she's now had a stable job for maybe like a year now and he's very READY to move out, the housing market is just so wordlessly insane right now that doing so is very unreasonable, so for right now they stay together.

Would you have to sleep with someone before marrying them? No.

Do you think there is life on other planets? In some form, absolutely. It's like, impossible for us to be the ONLY life-sustaining planet in an infinite space.

Would you enjoy a night of playing video games? Hell yeah, those with Girt are the absolute best.

Would you watch a porno with your partner? No, porn grosses me out personally. I don't want to see two totally random people going at each other. I would get absolutely nothing but a disgust reaction from that. It's totally fine if others are into it (just not to an addiction level obviously, that's problematic), I'm just not.

Do you like gummy candy? Yeah, it's a texture I like more than most others.

Do you know what the person you have feelings for is doing at this moment? He's at work.

How many brothers does your father have? I'm quite sure he has none, or he just hasn't talked about him like, at all.

Are any of your relatives vets? Not that I know of.

Who cleans the most in your house? My mom.

Do you have any current or past teachers on your facebook friends? Quite a lot, and I doubt they're happy with me. 🥴

Have you ever seen the last person you kissed cry? No.

Do your parents vote? I know Mom does, idk about Dad.

Who's the most romantic person you ever went out with? Jason.

How would you react if your best friend was pregnant/got someone pregnant? That would be Girt so that would be a VERY quick breakup if it wasn't me. If it was me, I'd be fucking devastated, terrified, and get an abortion as absolutely soon as possible.

Have you ever seen the last person you kissed dressed up fancy? Possibly in high school on his senior picture day, but I don't remember it.

Did you have a dream last night? No, last night's sleep was totally peaceful.

What’s something you’ve always wanted to say to your ex? I haven't *always* wanted to say it, but for years now I've just wanted to tell him I'm so sorry.

What would you do if you saw a guy hit a girl? My VERY strong instinct says that I would absolutely storm over to them and deck him dead in the face. I very literally think I would. And then call the cops.

What is the last state you were in besides your own? Virginia.

What two breeds of dog do you think would make a really great puppy? Maybe like... an akita and chow-chow. I looked it up and apparently they're legit and I'm in love.

Who is the best person you’ve ever “met” online? That's too hard. I have met THE greatest people through the Internet.

Describe your elementary school in 10 words or less. Very invested in their students, extremely friendly, bright, fun.

What is the greatest kids’ show ever and why? Okay don't judge but when I'm watching my niece with Mom, she LOVES the show Bluey, and honestly it is absolutely adorable and shows you such an ideal but also realistic picture of a good, honest, just picturesque family.

The best album ever made is ______ because _________: Ozzy's Black Rain because you skip NO song. EVERY single one fucking slaps.

Did you ever see a scorpion in the wild? No, they're not native here.

What is the newest thing you’ve learned? Two nights back at Girt's, we were talking about their old dog Charlotte and how much she fucking adored Donald; both Ashley and Shelia said that she did not just love him, that dog was in love with him. Apparently Charlotte's ashes were buried next to Donald because that's what both would have wanted. ;___;

Name a state you have never been to, but would like to go to. Arizona, probably surprisingly. There is a number of native animals there I would REALLY like to see.

Name a word that people use locally that outsiders probably can’t pronounce. Conetoe. You said it wrong.

Describe your world in 5 words. CONFUSING, stressful, poetic (not in all ways, but I'd say definitely in many), melancholy, but mine and one of a goddamn kind so I'll take it.

What time did you go to bed last night? Uh it was before 12. We played Jackbox Party Pack games for a few hours with some of his online buds, but he also tried excruciatingly spicy ramen, more than he should've because the psycho didn't wanna waste it but also to "build up [his] heat tolerance" and I was like BUT WHY?????? is that necessary????? Thankfully he knew I was right so didn't finish it and then he just wanted to go to bed lmao, he felt like shit.

Who did you last ride in a car with? Girt. Bless him, it's a 30 minute drive to his place and he was BELTIN shit which I usually don't mind at all, but between driving to his place and back, I got such a bad headache lol.

Are you currently heart broken? No, my heart is fuller than it normally is.

Do you know how to change a diaper? I mean, to be completely realistic I could probably figure it out, but immediately? No. I have changed ONE diaper in my entire life and never will again (and that one wasn't even very dirty).

Would you be tazed for a million bucks? Yes.

What is the most annoying thing that your parents do? My mom is always 100% certain she's right. Disagreeing is disrespect. My dad can be weird and sometimes rude to people, and he has no concept of "there are people who can hear you other than me" in public.

Do you completely trust the person you’re dating? Yes.

When was the last time you received a hug? Who was this hug from? This morning, Girt.

Are you one of those people who like The Nightmare Before Christmas? I do, but nowhere near obsessively or even as much as people seem to think I do. The movie is fine, but it's nothing amazing, honestly. Coincidentally, both my phone's lock and home screen are scenes from the movie, lol. Just for the holiday.

What is your favourite type of nut? Idk, I really don't like nuts very much. I guess cashews, I can handle them fine in like, nut/grain/etc. bars.

Where did you eat the best pizza you’ve ever eaten in your life? Guys I am not fucking kidding, it was literally at an indoor trampoline park sort of place that hosts parties, lmao. We went there for Girt's nephew's party, and that pizza, everything about it, was BOMB.

Did you ever watch The Rugrats when you were a kid? Oh yes, loved it.

Do you know anyone who smokes in their car? Dad and Kim.

[silverdelirium]

Can I request a very filthy smutty blaise with ass kink and size kink? 🥺

MESSY OFFICE | B.Z

SUMMARY ➠ coworker!blaise teaches you a lesson and fulfills his dreams of fucking you silly.

WARNINGS ➠ oral (male receiving), tad bit of shoe fucking, dumbification, degradation, praising, rough sex, ass kink, size kink, lots of dirty talk, rushed ending. this if filthy lololol

———

blaise took a deep breath before slamming his fist down on the wooden desk of his office. the papers that were placed on top of it went flying around at the sudden movement.

his hands were shaking with irritation. if that fucking landlord could just shut the fuck up about his rent for one second-

the male’s thoughts were cut off by small, rapid knocks against the door. his brows knitted in confusion at the unanticipated invasion.

“come in!”

the door creaked as you entered the room, peeking your head through the doorway at first before going in, shutting the door behind you.

your presence emitted a groan from him. he knew that the moment you both spent time together it would somehow end in a screaming match, and blaise was not in the mood to be dealing with anything right now.

you gave him a sharp glare in response before opening your mouth to speak. yet you were cut off by your own silence as you studied the state of his office.

everything seemed so rustled and chaotic— there were papers thrown in the floor, some were even crumbled and a few candy wrappers were tossed around. “what is this mess?” you spoke, tone lacing with disgust as you picked up an old folder from the worktable; his hand was quick to swat you away, scowling you before leaning back on the desk.

“what do you want?” he squinted at you, roaming his eyes down your body suspiciously— mentally slapping himself for staring at your breasts longer than planned.

“what the fuck is up your arse today?” you scoffed, crossing your arms and walking closer to him until he had to crane his neck down to look at you.

blaise’s chest heaved up and down as he quickly undid the top button of his shirt, turning away from you and taking long strides around the room. he closed his eyes and really hated himself for wanting nothing more than to shut that smart mouth of yours with his hardening cock. it was too much for him— and if there was one-way blaise loved to take his stress out on, was sex. and god— that stupid little skirt of yours that was begging to be lifted and reveal that sweet cunt that plagued his mind at the worst moments was the last push he needed to man up and fuck you as he had always wanted to.

you observed him in silence, watching how he mumbled something to himself about ‘i can’t think of her like this.’

quietness ran across the walls for a few moments before blaise was back in front of you, muttering a “fuck it” and connecting his lips to yours.

the fleeting kiss had you bewildered for a few seconds, eyes wide and mouth unmoving as the tall man held the back of your head in his palm. you didn’t kiss him back at first, but you didn’t protest either. and you’d be dammed if you didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to get fucked brain dead by blaise zabini.

but who could blame you when you kissed him back with the same— maybe even more— force; it was messy and heated all at once, the frustration that you sensed from earlier was being poured in that kiss. teeth were clashing together as his tongue pressed down on yours, drawing out a breathy moan from you.

blaise cupped your rear with both hands, lifting you in an unforeseen manner, causing you to squeal lightly until you felt your bum being pressed against the cool surface of his messy desk.

he was the first to break apart from the kiss, breathing steadily as he stared down at you— even from your perched up position he was still a few inches taller.

“i’m not gonna hold back” he warned, searching your eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation that you might feel. but he was far from finding any, you wanted blaise to fuck you until he was poking out of your tummy and you wanted it now.

“i don’t care” you breathed out, reconnecting your mouth to his and almost missing out on that keen groan that came out of his mouth.

his large digits scurried under your skirt, unzipping it in a quick motion and pulling it down your legs until it pooled on the floor.

he teasingly ran his index finger up and down the soaked cotton that covered your pulsating pussy. “blaise— please” you shamelessly plead, throwing all your morals out the window and not caring about anything else but being rutted over and over again.

“look at you. begging like a well paid whore when you were being a smart ass with me not even ten minutes ago.” he chuckled, taking pride in the way you whimpered in response, bucking your hips up onto his fingers. “what is it, baby? you want me to fuck you until that dumb baby brain can only think about my cock, yeah?”

his words struck a bit of sense into you and you huffed in response— “are you actually gonna give me what i want and fuck me properly or are you all talk?”

you messed up and you messed up big; you could tell by the way hir pupils dilated and the slow touches against your clothed pussy stopped. his tongue darted out to poke on his left cheek as he laughed lightly, stepping back and harshly bringing you down the desk.

“i’m gonna fuck your throat until you learn how to keep useless stuff to yourself, princess” he warned, signalling down to the floor as he unbuckled his belt.

you tentatively got down on your knees, lightly scraping them against the wooden floor as you rubbed your thighs together, pawing at your lap as blaise’s erection appeared in your view of line.

was that supposed to fit in you?

blaise seemed to notice your unsureness— “you alright there, pretty girl?” his tone was softer, less stern yet with the same accent of authority he always carried.

“i— it’s… big.” you let out, feeling the tip of your ears grow hot as he chuckled before picking up a more alluring timbre “oh i’m gonna make it fit” he winked.

you swallowed thickly, already picturing the delicious stretch this man was gonna provide you. he stroked his large cock sensually before making a beeline with it to your lips, which were already parted in expectancy; he went to tease you for it but was cut off by his low moan that got provoked as the warmth of your mouth enveloped his pulsating tip.

his digits tangled themselves in your hair, good girl’s and just like that’s slipped from his mouth every time your tongue swirled around his head. and the slickness that was pouring out of you was suddenly too much to ignore— hence why you reached down to attempt and soothe the burning sensation. blaise was still enthralled with the way your worked those lips that he had dreamed of having against his around his cock— his hands tightened around your scalp as he thrusted rapidly against your mouth, desperately probing for an orgasm.

a muffled whine came from you as he fucked your throat repeatedly, causing him to look down at your teary eyes, eventually settling his irises on your hand rubbing your greedy cunt.

blaise tutted with a hint of disappointment, making your movements halt as you batted your eyelashes up at him innocently as if your mouth wasn’t stuffed with his cock that was ready to shoot its cum down your fucked out throat.

you went to furrow your brows when he kicked your hand away gently, replacing your fingers with the point of his leather shoe, your wetness already leaking down on his footwear as you whined around his cock, making his hips buck involuntarily at the vibrations— “i was gonna reward you for sucking me so well, but since you’re such a desperate slut you’re gonna have to fuck yourself on my shoe while i throat fuck you, yeah?” he asked demanded.

a weak nod was all he got in response before he was back to gripping your hair in his fist, spit drooling down your chin at the abrupt pace he set without even a warning— not that you minded.

your hips rolled slowly into his shoe, swollen clit fizzing at the stimulation; his shoe hit every right nerve ending, the sounds you made around his cock were filthy and lewd, only making his balls grow tighter as he stilled his hips, rope after rope of cum flooding your mouth.

you moaned lowly against his cock at the feeling of his warm cum spraying down your throat.

he gave tattered breaths and moans as he pulled out of your mouth, barely even taking notice of the whining mess you became, his foot now long gone from your oozing cunt.

“get the fuck up” he breathed out, staring down at your already fucked out-state— saliva all over your chin, along with a few tears decorating your frowning face as you stood up. his large hands came to cup your face, delivering a small kiss on the corner of your mouth before placing his mouth next to your ear and whispering “i’ve been trying to translate your frowns and find out what your fucking problem with me was before bending you over my desk and fucking you stupid.”

you could’ve easily moaned at his words alone if it weren’t for his lips linking with yours in a crazed kiss as he guided you towards his messy desk— which was about to be a whole lot messier.

his hands reassuringly squeezed your waist as he turned you around, his once again hard cock rubbed against your ass as he planted kisses against your neck, sucking on certain spots that had your eyes rolling onto the back of your head— his fingers making quick work of getting your shirt off, throwing it somewhere around the room as he separated himself from your now marked neck, leaving you in your undergarments that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“i’ve been waiting to fuck you senseless for so long, baby. you don’t know how many times i spent with my hand around my cock dreaming about your tight pussy around it.” he groaned out, pushing you forward until your breasts squished against the desk, shuddering at the cold of it.

his palms massaged your left ass cheek before a harsh slap was delivered to it— and his mouth wasn’t there to cover the pornographic moan that came out of you this time, pushing your bum against his hardened dick in anticipation.

blaise grabbed a hold of his cock and steadied himself with a hand on your bum, squeezing. before he moved your panties to the side and teased your pulsating entrance with his tip, groaning slightly at the way your pussy almost swallowed him in as he pushed the tiniest bit in, coaxing a loud cry from you.

“so so tight, princess” he praised, pushing himself all the way in with a single thrust, arousal already gushing down your thighs.

the male wasted no time and in a few moments he had you with your mouth gaped open, eyes going crisscross with every un pitying snap against your hips of his.

“can you feel me all the way up in your pretty guts, baby girl? you like having this slutty cunt being taught a lesson, huh?” he growled out, eyes trained on each bounce of your ass as he sped up— the clapping sounds were enough to give away what was happening to any passerbyers outside his office; not that any of you minded at this point.

“oh! fuck blaise— right there! right there!” you babbled out, shutting your eyes tight as he brought you up with his bicep against your throat, making you loll your head back on his shoulder as his dick continuously hit that spot inside you.

blaise’s other hand snaked around your midriff, pressing down on the evident outline of his cock going in and out of your tummy. “look at me destroying your pretty little insides, sweetheart, bet you won’t be able to sit on this pretty little pussy for the next week” he cooed at you before slamming you forwards until your cheek pressed against his rattling desk.

“don’t stop! don’t stop please!” you sobbed out, squeaking lightly when his palms crashed down roughly on your ass, groans and moans echoing around the room like a chant— the pit in your stomach growing tighter and tighter by the second.

“i’m cumming blaise, i’m fucking cumming” you gasped out, lifting your head back up and pointing your nose to the ceiling as you came all-around blaise’s cock with a loud ecstatic moan.

a whimper passed by your lips as blaise continued to fuck you through your high; and it took him one look to look at the mess you left running down yours and his thighs for him to be pumping you full of his cum, steady thrusts that had him hissing as you clenched around him for a final time.

he pulled out of you to watch his cum blow out of your overstimulated pussy, the aftershocks of the intense orgasm still causing your muscles to spasm every once in a while.

“you made my office a whole lot messier” he grunted out, pointing down to the puddle that fell in between your legs, causing you to flush instantly as he chuckled and pressed light kisses to your temple.

———

🏷: @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @youreso-golden @saggyb1lls @selenesheart @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @daddybutmakeitagirl @fredshufflepuff @dracosafety @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @s1ater @marauderswh0re1 @andineverwould @starless-starkov @black-rose-29 @tattooedkermit @purpleskymalfoy @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @rav3nclawwhore @fizzleberries @malfoy-girl @alohastitch0626 @caosfanblr @memorycharm @whoreforgeorgeandfred @elizabethrosedarling

[check your privacy settings if i couldn’t tag you]

[yanderes-galore]

If requests are still open,

Yandere Mangle(Fnaf)? HC

Pulling from the Yandere behavior thing I did for the Toy Animatronics. Animatronic or android, doesn't matter.

Yandere! Mangle Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Obsession, Stalking, Implied thoughts of kidnapping, Murder, Violence, Blood mention, Biting, Sadism.

- Mangle's Obsessive, Possessive, Slightly Sadistic, Teasing, Clingy, and Emotionally attached to you

- The bot is also usually reclusive, physical contact making them frustrated due to parts falling off them.

- Mangle would be more active during night shift, which would be when they pursue you more.

- During the day they're subjected to the damn kids and static of their radio.

- They can at least drown that stress with thoughts of you when you come in for night shift.

- They'll be on the ceiling fast when you come in, looking at every camera they find to greet you.

- They know where you are, they just want to ease you into their beautiful presence.

- "Hello there, dearie~ Will we be playing today?"

- Mangle is very obsessive towards you because they feel you can help them feel whole again.

- Their appearance or constant radio screeching doesn't seem to bother them when you're with them.

- You make everything seem okay despite what they go through during the day.

- They're also possessive and easily jealous.

- None of the other Toy bots go through what they do!

- Nothing gives those bots the right to speak and interact with you!

- Mangle keeps track of who speaks to you, vowing to make them as broken as themselves if you aren't left alone.

- "I'll strip you to scrap if you touch what's mine!"

- By that line alone, Mangle can be sadistic.

- Mangle is fully capable of biting and tearing people and bots apart.

- They may even get a bit nippy at you, too.

- Maybe you do something they don't like and decide they need to draw a little blood.

They won't bite you much... but they'll do it to gesture you in the right direction.

- They also love teasing you.

- Seeing you flustered by someone like them makes them proud.

- Don't you two look so beautiful together?

- Why hide the fact you adore them?

- They know you do...

- "That bite wound of yours looks lovely. Only I could mark you up like that~!"

- Mangle is incredibly clingy and emotionally attached to you, too.

- Once they manage to get into your office they don't plan on leaving until the night ends.

- They stay on your ceiling and observe you, even if you wear that mask they know it's you.

- Did you really expect that trick to work on them when they've already remembered just who you are?

- How silly~!

- Aren't you just the cutest...

- They're so lucky to call you theirs!

- Even if you don't agree with their decision....

- "With you I'll be complete~! There's no point in fighting, you'll never leave once I have you!"

[saintlike78]

Bad day [D.M.]

Parings: Husband! Draco Malfoy x fem! Reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N comes home from work after having the worst day and doesn’t want Draco to see her sad, so she decides to go past his office without greeting him. Draco thinks she’s being bratty and goes to punish her but finds her crying and comforts her instead.

Warnings: NSFW 16+, shower sex, praise kink, slight breeding kink, slight fingering, unprotected sex, reader being sad.

You loved your job, it made you so happy, most of the time, but today you wanted to either scream, cry or pull your hair out, purely out of frustration.

Closing the front door gently, hoping your husband wouldn’t hear you come home, you quietly remove your shoes and coat.

Usually, you loved coming home after a long day of work to see Draco, working away in his home office, or with dinner ready for you to eat together. Today was different, you could feel a breakdown slowly creeping up on you and you really didn’t want to burden Draco with a crying mess, when he was also stressed with his own work. You knew Draco would always comfort you when you’re feeling down, but it still made you feel guilty.

Moving your feet quietly down the long hallway that led to your bedroom, but said hallway unfortunately also housed Draco’s office. The door to his office was open and you could hear him typing away on the keys of his computer, soft music filling the background. During any other normal day, you would make your way into said office and greet him with a kiss and sometimes you would stay and watch him until he was done with work, making this a little routine.

As quickly as you possibly could, you breeze past the office, praying he was too busy to notice you.

Alas, this is Draco we’re talking about, so of course, he noticed. He had heard the front door click shut and heard your soft footsteps make their way down the hall, he had expected them to lead to him, but was very surprised when your figure passed by the door, without even a small greeting. Furrowing his brows, Draco shut his laptop and stared at the doorway, almost expecting you to come in laughing because he was half expecting your action to be a joke. When you didn’t appear, but instead heard the water from the shower running, coming from the bathroom connected to your shared bedroom, he could feel the annoyance building.

You weren’t exactly a stranger to being a bit bratty, to rile him up, so Draco’s mind instantly jumped to this conclusion, maybe you just wanted attention and that was exactly what you were going to get.

Getting up from his office chair, Draco made his way into the bedroom where he could see your work clothes thrown haphazardly in a path leading to the bathroom.

Smirking, he opened the door as quietly as possible, as to not alert you of his presence and he slowly slid into the bathroom.

You were in the shower, facing away from him, the water engulfing your head to muffle out the sound of the outside world, your salty tears mixing with the warm water from the shower. You knew Draco would probably hear the shower running, but that he hopefully would be too busy with work to think about it.

Ridding himself of his own clothes, Draco’s mind was racing, thinking of what kind of punishment he would bestow upon you for ignoring him.

Walking behind the glass of the shower, Draco stood and took a moment to admire you from behind, thinking about how lucky he was (and also about ravishing you, but mostly admiring).

“So, what makes you think it’s okay to ignore me, darling?” Draco started, finally announcing his presence.

His voice behind you startled you a bit and made you jump slightly, but you still didn’t turn around to meet his gaze, not wanting him to see you bawling your eyes out because of something as silly as work.

When you didn’t turn, Draco just assumed you were testing his patience, so he walked closer to you, so close you could feel the heat radiating his body.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, I don’t appreciate this bratty behavior,” he said as he grabbed your arm to get you to turn around, but you just shook your head.

Draco was suddenly confused; normally when you were being bratty, you would always come with a snarky comment or directly test his patience, not actually ignore him.

He grabbed both your arms, forcing you to turn, and that’s when he saw your red puffy eyes, he only assumed they were accompanied by tears, but the water from the shower disguised them. Your body was quivering slightly as you took shaky breaths, still not looking him in the eye.

“Darling… what’s the matter?”

You shook your head again, knowing that if you started talking your voice would break and a fresh set of tears would make their way out. Draco just took your body and wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tightly against his bare chest.

As soon as his arms were around you, you buried your face in his chest and the tears started again, making you let out small sobs against him.

Stroking your back gently he tried getting you to talk again, “baby, can you tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you? Was it something I did?”

“No,” you hiccuped as you spoke, “you didn’t do anything… I just had a very bad day at work, and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working.”

“My darling,” he cooed, “I’m always here for you when you’re having a bad day, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me… you’re not a bother, I always want to help you feel better.”

Retracting your face from his chest so you could look at his face, finally meeting his eyes, still in his arms, you gave a small nod.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked, still stroking your back.

“Not right now,” you started, your tears having calmed down, “I just want to not think about it.”

Draco nodded and smirked slightly. “I might have a way to take your mind off it.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the small smile that was working its way onto your face.

“Oh? And what might that be?”

His smirk only grew at your response, “I could wash your hair.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head once again at his little game.

“Okay, you can wash my hair,” you said and tilted your head up slightly and puckering your lips, silently asking for a kiss.

Draco grinned and bent his head down to meet your lips in a short, but loving kiss.

Grabbing your shampoo from the shelf he squirted some in his hand and brought it to your hair, slowly lathering it up and massaging it in. You let out a sigh of contentment, enjoying the way his long slender fingers worked their magic on your scalp.

After rinsing your hair of the shampoo, applying conditioner, and rinsing that as well you thought you would be done, but Draco, as always, had different plans.

“Now, darling, your hair is nice and clean, but we’re still missing one step,” he said with a smirk and a playful look in his eyes.

You cocked your head a tad, asking him a silent question with the action, wondering what he had in mind.

Smirking even wider, he grabbed the small showerhead and also turned off the overhead shower. Turning on the smaller showerhead and setting the water pressure to the highest setting, it clicked in your brain what he was going to do, and your stomach flipped with excitement and you could already feel your arousal start to seep out.

Gripping your waist, he held you close, but still left a gap between you, making room for the showerhead. Slowly, he brought the showerhead over your stomach and guided it downwards, pausing right above your heat, but not for long. Finally, he brought it down so the water could hit your clit perfectly, making your breath hitch and then letting out a long breathy moan. The pressure from the water was making your knees quiver and you reached one hand up to grab Draco’s shoulder and the other gripped his bicep to keep yourself upright.

The moans you were letting out were going straight to Draco’s, already painfully hard, cock.

“You make such pretty noises, princess.”

Getting closer and closer to your release, you started to slowly move your hips to create a nice pulsing friction against your clit. Draco, of course, noticed and smirked, your moans and whines enough confirmation that you were close.

“You gonna cum for me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer from the way your grip on his shoulder and bicep was tightening more by the second.

Nodding, you let out a breathy whine as your orgasm finally took over, making your knees quiver and body shake with pleasure. If Draco hadn’t been holding you up by your waist, you surely would have crumbled to the ground.

Draco turned off the water for the small showerhead, but turned the large overhead shower on again, as for you not to freeze.

“You did so good, my good girl,” he said, leaning down to kiss you all over your face, “you ready to take my cock, angel?”

“Yes, please Draco,” you whimpered out, very desperate for him to fill you.

He chuckled at your neediness but nevertheless brought your back towards the wall.

“Jump, baby.”

Doing as you’re told, you jump slightly. Catching you, Draco makes you wrap your legs around his waist.

With one hand on your waist, holding you up, he uses his free hand to guide his length between your soaked folds, slowly entering you.

You both let out simultaneous moans as he enters you, his hand now going under your thigh as he starts moving in and out of you at a steady pace.

“You feel so good, always so good and tight for me, my darling,” he groans out.

“Faster, Draco, please,” you manage to get out between moans.

Draco doesn’t need to be told twice. Picking up his pace, his hips move faster, chasing your second high of the evening and his own.

You’re a babbling mess, leaning forward to kiss him before burying your face in his neck, lightly biting down.

Draco lets out a particularly loud groan at the sensation, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm. Reaching between the two of you, he finds your clit and draws circles, wanting you to finish before he does.

You let out a loud moan and without warning your orgasm washes over you, making you see stars, whilst your entire body shakes, gripping Draco’s back so hard, you’re afraid you’ve drawn blood.

Hearing your moan and feeling your walls flutter around him, Draco himself is brought to his end. Dick twitching, you feel him release inside of you.

“Yeah, take all my cum, you’re gonna be so full,” he groans as he pumps slowly in and out of you, making sure you’re nice and filled.

Emptying completely inside, he slowly pulls out, earning a low whine-esque moan from you, and helps you down on your feet. He stabilizes you, with one hand on your hip and crouches down, and enters two fingers in your already very sensitive cunt.

“No, too se..sensitive,” you whine out.

“I know, my baby, just want to make sure you’re nice and full,” he coos, looking up at your blissed-out face.

Deciding that you’re full enough, Draco pulls out his fingers and stands up, guiding his fingers to your mouth beckoning you to open, which you gladly do. Taking his fingers in your mouth and sucking lightly, to clean them, you look up at Draco with the most innocent look you can muster, even though what you just did was very far from innocent. He lets out a groan, his eyes rolling a little back and his head also falling a little back.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You smirk a little and he removes his fingers.

Leaning down, he kisses you again, this kiss slow and passionate, thumb slowly stroking your cheek.

After cleaning you up, Draco jumped out of the shower, drying himself off before grabbing you a towel and letting you dry off, while he went to your bedroom and rummaging through his closet for a jumper, for you to wear.

Finally satisfied with the clothing option he picked for you, he quickly pulled on a pair of underwear and sweats, before making his way back to the bathroom.

Watching in silence as you pulled on the (very skimpy) pair of panties and the jumper he had picked out, he was just admiring you, doing the most mundane thing, but to him, you were just ethereal.

“Come on, darling, let’s go cuddle and you can tell be all about who I have to hex for you,” Draco said, making you chuckle.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him, before he could guide you out of the bathroom, you puckered your lips, indicating the fact that you wanted a kiss.

Chuckling, he bent down and lovingly pecked your lips.

“Thank you for always cheering me up, my love,” you said as Draco began to lead you to the bedroom and towards your shared bed.

Draco smirked, “anytime, princess,” he winked.

[harrysddtittys]

Could you maybe write something where Harry is a single father to maybe a girl. And just write how he’d deal with her terrible twos. Like from morning to night or something like that? 🥺

wow i finally got a requestttt!!! here you go! I know nothing about young children, so i don’t even know if this is an accurate description of a 2 y/o lol. but i hope you like it <33

Warnings: fluffff, dadrry, most likely some typos :)

Masterlist ❣︎ Requests

Piece of work

“Oh my God, Lani.” Harry groaned, groggily, as he was pulled out of his sleep by his daughter sitting on his back and yelling “Daddy, wake up!” in an playful voice. As much as he tries to pretend to not to like being woken up so obnoxiously every morning, they both know he loves for the first thing he hears every day to be his little girl yelling in his ear.

He lays there for a couple more minutes, wanting to sleep for a little bit longer, but gives up when he realizes she’s not going to be quiet until he gets up. “Okay, okay. I’m awake. Calm down.”

When he says that, she immediately gets off his back so that he can sit up, sitting next to him. He looks over at her. She’s wearing a random shirt of her’s that she doesn’t really wear other than to sleep, and her pull-up that she wears to prevent wetting the bed at night, and she has a head full of curly, unruly hair. He just smiles, so in awe of the fact he helped create something so beautiful.

Fatherhood was by far the best thing that ever happened to Harry. The second he looked his little girl, Alani in the eyes, he instantly felt the connection. He loves her with his entire being. But she can definitely be a lot to handle

She turned two not even three months ago. Harry Honestly thought the “terrible two’s” stage was a myth. Boy, was he wrong. The tantrums hit like lightning. Not only is she in her terrible two’s, but she’s naturally very stubborn, and sassy. She definitely got that from him. He swears she’s a 13 year old in a 2 year olds body.

“G’morning, bug.” He says, sitting up slowly because of the stiff joints from not moving much all night. “Good morning, daddy!” She squeals excitedly. Once he’s fully sat up, Alani jumps on him, throwing her tiny arms around him, causing Harry to chuckle. She gets so excited when he wakes up for the day.

He wraps his arms around her and squeeze her lightly, but grunting as if he’s squeezing her as tight as he can, making her giggle. “Did you sleep good?” He questions, quietly. “Yeah.” She mumbles, feeling so content where she is, like in her dad’s arms is the best place in the world. “V’got some things to do today. Y’wanna go run some errands with daddy?” This causes her to pull away from him with with wide eyes, nodding eagerly. The biggest smile spreads across Harry’s features. “Yeah?” Which she responds to by nodding again.

“Then we gotta get ready, bub. Y’hungry?” He asks to which she responds with a simple “Yes.” “Alright let’s go eat.” When he says that, Alani gets down off the bed, before sprinting out of his room, and toward the kitchen full speed. “Stop running!” He slightly scolds, hearing her tiny feet padding down the hallway at a much slower speed than before.

He always gets so nervous when she’s running around, but especially when she’s running in the house. She’s so wild and crazy, yet so clumsy. Constantly falling, and running into things. She rarely actually gets hurt. Most of the time she moves on from it like nothing happened. But it scares the absolute shit out of Harry every time.

When he enters the kitchen, he sees Alani standing next to the counter. As soon as he’s in her line of vision she starts pointing to the box of cinnamon toast crunch. “Daddy, this?” with pleading eyes. Harry just laughs. He doesn’t let her eat those than often for breakfast, because of how sweet they are, choosing to fix something on the healthier side for them to eat instead. But today he figured it wouldn’t hurt to let her have a little bowl of it before the day starts.

He goes over to the little girl who is still aggressively pointing at the box of cereal, ending down to pick her up. “Alright, alright. Hold you’re horses, will you?” He coos softly. He gently sits her down on at the kitchen table before returning back over to the counter. He opens the cabinet, pulling out a small bowl. When he’s finished making her cereal, he grabs her one of her baby spoons before serving it to her. “Thank you!” she says loudly. “You’re welcome, princess.” he chuckles.

Harry doesn’t like cinnamon toast crunch, it’s way to sweet for him. He decides he’ll just pop a bagel in the toaster and call it a day.

* * *

Once they’ve finished breakfast, they got completely ready for the day, and we’re soon ready to head out. Harry turns around to look at his daughter. She’s dressed in a denim dress, with a white t-shirt underneath, and white tennis shoes. Her hair’s brushed up into two sleek pigtails, which he’d become a pro at over the past couple years. Harry decided on a white t-shirt with a gray pair of pants. “Y’ready t’go, love?” he asked, feeling around his pockets to make sure he had everything. “Mhm!”

once they’re out to the car, Harry straps Alani into her car seat in the back, peppering kisses all over her tiny face once she’s all buckled in. “Daddy!” She squeals. Giggling, he closes the door, and goes around to the drivers side, getting in and powering the car on. “Alright, let’s roll.” he sighs, turning around to back out of the driveway.

They needed to stop at the grocery store, just to stock up on some things they needed around the house. So that’s where they were headed to now.

“Daddy, look! Red!” Alani exclaimed, pointing at the red car that was next to them. “Yes, that is red, baby, good job!” Harry beams. “Y’so smart.”

They continue driving toward their local grocery. Harry looks into his rear view mirror to check in Alani, and catches her staring at him. She’s always staring at him. It seems to be her favorite thing to do. He pulls the silliest face he could think of, causing her to burst into laughter. Harry laughs right along with her. Her laugh is so contagious. “Do it again!” She giggles. Harry happily obliges, pulling the goofy face once more, causing her angelic little laugh to engulf his ears.

After a little while of driving, they finally reached their destination, pulling into the grocery store parking lot. Alani watches her dad get out of the car, patiently waiting for him to make his way around to her side to get her out of the car. Soon enough, he does, taking her out of her cars seat and carrying her on his hip as the go into the store.

* * *

“Daddy, Daddy! Can I have that?” Alani asks loudly, pointing to something. “Shhh, you have to use your inside voice, darling.” Harry reminds her gently. He looks over to where she was pointing and not to his surprise, he sees a doll on the shelf. He’s grown to hate telling her no, but they didn’t come for toys, and she has more than enough at home already. “No, my love. Not today.” Her face immediately dropped. “But… but please?” She whines, her lip quivering. Harry hates that she’s disappointed but he knows he can’t give in. “No, baby. You don’t have to cry. Just not today, okay?” he says gently.

That doesn’t help, considering her whimpers are quickly turning into loud wails, and he knows the meltdown is coming. “Lani, it’s okay. You have plenty of toys at home to play with.” he try’s to reason but it doesn’t stop the tears that are slowly rolling down her face, and the loud, attention drawing cries. People were starting to look, and Harry was starting to get frustrated, but she was only 2. He knew she was still learning how to deal with her emotions. But when your kid is having a complete meltdown, and screaming in the middle of a store over a doll, that’s definitely a bit annoying.

Harry leans down to be face to face with her in her, who’s seated in the cart. “Alani, I know you’re upset, but you’re not going to scream.” He says softly, but slightly sternly. She looks at her dad, still crying but visibly calming down. Harry waits for her whines to die down completely before asking her “Are we okay now? Can we keep shopping?” to which she responds to with a nod.

After picking up just a few more essentials, they’re in line, waiting to check out. Harry looks down at Alani, realizing she’s been pretty silent ever since she stopped crying. He sees her with the all too familiar scowl on her face, with a pout of her lips. “Why are you looking so evil, bub?” Harry asked, with a gentle shake of his head. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t need to because he already knows she’s mad at him for refusing to buy her a doll.

He just rolls his eyes and try’s not to laugh. She really is something else. But he knows that she’s genuinely mad at him and him not taking her seriously will set her off again.

Eventually, they make their way up to the front of the line to check out, and soon enough their heading back out to the car. Harry looks at her, as he’s loading all the groceries into the trunk of his car to see that she still has the same mean look on her face. “Y’gonna stay mad at daddy all day, huh?” He teases her solely for his own enjoyment, knowing she’s much to busy trying to have an attitude to laugh at anything he says. She nods silently, still refusing to speak to him. Harry can’t help but laugh at that, knowing that wasn’t true in the slightest. “Y’have to learn t’take ‘no’ for an answer, baby love.” He sighs.

When they’re in the car in the way home, Harry looks at her in the mirror, pulling some silly faces like he was doing earlier. She sees him, and while she was still trying to hold her angry face, he can see the smile tugging at her lips. He doesn’t stop until her scowl is completely replaced by a smile, her beautiful laugh ringing through his ears, making his heart flutter with joy.

“Ahhh, I thought you were mad!” Harry laughs, causing her to laugh along with him, knowing she failed her attempt at holding a grudge on him. “Are we gonna be friends again?” Harry asks jokingly. “Yeah, we’re friends again!” Alani states matter of factly, causing Harry to chuckle.

This child really was a little piece of work, but he loves her nonetheless.

“Good.”

[be-gay-do-heists]

OKAY finally finished with eliot hand pain hurt/comfort fic, and i couldn’t actually decide whether i preferred it in second or third person POV. this is the version with the third person POV, otherwise nothing is different from the other version !

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Contrary to what the four crazy people he spent his time risking his life for nowadays thought, Eliot didn’t like the pain.

There was nothing cleansing about it, nothing satisfactory. A ringing hit to his jaw didn’t feel like penance. The actual protection aspect was a different story. Standing like a wall between your people and danger, there was nothing that made Eliot’s ribs ache with pleasure like that; a wall didn’t feel, didn’t think, it was just an immutable fact. He was an immutable fact. The problem was that the wall-as-Eliot, or perhaps the Eliot-as-wall, had to become human again sometime after the last man went down and the last dollar bill was stuffed into a duffel. To hurt was human, and not just to hurt but to remember the wound long, long after, for it to live in your knees and wrists and between the vertebrae in your spine. Some days— and this was a product of how long after a job it had been, how hard he had pushed—some days were worse than others. The fact that some days the first sound out of his mouth wasn’t even a groan, but a whine, or worse the half-awake pleading for please please make it stop i’ll do anything just make it stop—

No, Eliot didn’t like the pain.

Comparatively, today was a good day. Today, he could get out of bed. His head and body were blessedly in agreement that it was in his best interests to swing his twinging knees to the side of the mattress, push himself up onto legs that were sore but stable, with arms that shook only slightly. But compared to Eliot’s best days, the ones where except for the old shoulder injury which would never let him forget it and the scar on his hip that put a falter in his giddy-up in all kinds of weather, the days on which except for those he sometimes even forgot the pain, this didn’t hold a candle. Today his hands were so beat and weak that the ache radiated up to his mid-forearm, settled into him all familiar-like and made its home in him.

In the bathroom, Eliot used his wrist to turn on the faucet and stuck his mouth under the water to drink. Holding a cup was off the agenda. His morning routine was interspersed with winces, not unusual for his post-job bathroom adventures, and if it took Eliot longer to shimmy on the sweats he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of today, it made him appreciate the comfort of wearing them a little more.

Going handless was fine until he was face to face with the fridge, and resisting the urge to growl at it, like that would solve anything. Taking a deep breath, he put a hand on the stainless steel handle, testing his grip. A light flex had Eliot drawing it back like the metal had burned him, like someone had snapped a tight clothespin onto each ligament. He took a moment to pace a couple steps, let out a loud but cathartic expletive, and then wedge his hand between the handle and the door so he could open the fridge with his elbow strength. The feeling of triumph behind his collarbone faded quickly as the hitter scanned its contents and realized there was nothing he wanted to eat, or at least nothing he wanted to hold and eat. The thought of grasping a fork brought another growl to his throat, and he slammed the fridge door to stomp to the couch and throw himself down, cradling his hands in his lap.

Eliot knew the drill: in an hour, he would grit his teeth and get to up to try and fumble open his bottle of painkillers, and if he succeeded, he would wait another hour for them to truly kick in so he could handle the tv remote, put on whatever game was on, and vegetate on the couch until further notice. The phone he had left on the nightstand rang loudly, fully audible from the other room, blaring out the chorus to “Macho Man” that Hardison had put as his ringtone and Eliot hadn’t figured out how to get rid of yet. If it was important, whoever it was would call again, so he ignored it. His ire rose when the same noise sang out from the bedroom a couple minutes later, a bit-off groan escaping from his clenched teeth as he levered himself up to get to it as fast as he could, awkwardly accepting the call and maneuvering the phone between his shoulder and ear. “What?”

“Man, we haven’t heard from you since we split yesterday, I thought we were gonna get a beer downstairs last night?”

He rubbed his eyes with his wrist, frustrated that he had forgotten he was supposed to get together with Hardison the night before. Getting home, washing the sweat and blood off, and falling into bed had seemed like the only goal in his mind. “Look, sorry, I’ve been busy. And if this ain’t important, you—“

“Bullshit. Absolute bullshit, you’re using your tough-guy, bullshit voice. And you actually apologized, so something is double wrong.”

Eliot snarled. “I don’t have— Hardison, I don’t know what you’re talking about, just leave me alone.”

“Too late, we’re already at your place.”

Before he could open his mouth, his doorbell rang, drawing a groan from him. If he was correct about who the “we” was, it seemed silly to even ring it. His suspicions were confirmed thirty seconds later as the door clicked open anyways and Parker and Hardison came in, having the decency to at least look slightly sheepish. Eliot had already moved back to the couch, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” he growled.

“Excuse us for being worried about your wellbeing, Mr. Suffer-In-Silence,” Hardison scoffed.

Parker leapt onto the couch cushion next to him. “We thought you might have been captured by ninjas.”

“You would know if I had been captured by ninjas,” Eliot muttered. “It’s a very dis— look, you’ve seen that I’m not kidnapped, it’s our day off, can you please leave and let me rest.”

“You still owe us a hangout from last night!” Parker chirped. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay long.” She vaulted back over the couch to go rummage through his snack cabinets, getting into the granola bin by the sound of it. Eliot made a note to restock it before she came back next.

When he next opened his eyes, Hardison was lightly sitting on his coffee table, looking at the hands still resting in the hitter’s lap. “What’s up with your hands, Eliot?”

Eliot’s first instinct was to deflect. He trusted his team, sure, but this was different. They weren’t supposed to know that he had these days. That he wasn’t invulnerable. “Nothing’s wrong with them, stop sitting on my coffee table.”

“Mhm mhm, sure,” Hardison said. “Go like this for me?” He wiggled his fingers in a “hey sailor” kind of fashion. Before Eliot could tell him just what he thought about that, Parker’s ponytail swung into the side of his face, the thief reaching down to poke one of his hands faster than he could stop her.

By the time Eliot was able to refocus and pull himself back from the whiteout of pain, Parker and Hardison were looking at him with open concern, the hacker leaning back slightly, a little pale. Eliot thought he might have howled; he wasn’t sure. Both his hands were clenched tightly to his chest, wrists together, arms outward, wishbone shaped. He felt just as brittle as one, with their stares on him. He summoned the anger from his throat, the only weapon at his disposal (only half-expecting that it would work, always defenseless when it came to their prodding).

“Can you leave me the hell alone now?”

Hardison looked at him, taking his time formulating his thoughts, but it was Parker who spoke. “Nope.” Eliot turned to her where she was perched on the couch. “You get hurt taking care of us. Now you let us take care of you.”

Eliot looked at Hardison pleadingly, hoping he at least would take pity on him and let him wallow by himself. The hitter wanted to hide like the trap-escaped, half-dead badger whose den he had accidentally put his foot into half a lifetime ago in the Italian Alps, earning him an earful of hissing that scared the shit out of him. He wondered if he seemed as belligerent as that now.

Hardison just shrugged and smiled gently. “Hey, you heard the woman.” He leaned forward slightly, just enough in Eliot’s space to let him feel his warm presence without crowding. “Couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.”

He didn’t want to try, was the thing. It was only that it wasn’t their job to take care of him. It was his to take care of them. They just seemed to be wholly unaware of this.

“You taken anything for those yet?” Hardison asked, pointing at his hands. He hummed at Eliot’s slight head shake. “Thought so. Which ones?”

“White bottle, red pills. Only need a half,” Eliot mumbled, slouching. Parker was already up and heading to the bathroom.

“We need to get something you can actually open when this happens, some kind of spring-loaded catch maybe,” Hardison mused. “Alright, let me see them.” He patted his legs, frowning at Eliot’s growl. “C’mon, none of that. I know they hurt, I’ll be really, really gentle. I won’t even touch without asking.”

Eliot looked him in the eye for the sincerity he already knew would be there, the eagerness to help that (damn him) was one of his favorite traits of Hardison’s. Hesitantly, he extended his hands, rolling his eyes at the hacker scooting forward to offer his knees to rest them on.

“I assume you got antiseptic and ointment on these knuckles already, so totally disregarding those, even though it sucks. Nothing broken?”

“No, just. Aches. Like a son of a bitch. Can’t make a damn fist. Happens sometimes.”

Parker bounded back in, armed with a glass of water and half a pill in her open hand. “So no jobs for a while. Easy, I’ll tell Nate. Open up.” With a scowl, Eliot took the medication from her fingers with his teeth (gently, gently), and let her raise the glass to his lips, nearly choking as she tipped it a little eagerly, and choking for real when Hardison said, “Whoa, woman, let him swallow.”

“It’s not just the last job, Park, it’s jobs two years ago, or five, or ten,” Eliot managed, once he had his breath back. “Part of the package that comes with the lifestyle. It just happens sometimes, don’t matter what schedule we’re on.”

She frowned. “Still. We shouldn’t be doing jobs if you’re hurt. Nate should know that.”

Hardison leaned forward a little more while he was distracted trying to find the right response to that, that they wouldn’t be doing any jobs at all if that were the case, that Nate trusted him to get the job done no matter what, reaching out to his forearm and stopping just a hair’s breadth shy of touching. The hitter froze, and Hardison did too, meeting his eyes. “It’s ok. I’m just trying something out. Is it alright if I touch you here?” At his tiniest of nods, the hacker placed his fingertips on his arm, rubbing circles so lightly that Eliot almost couldn’t feel it. “Let me know where it starts to hurt, okay?” Hardison applied the slightest pressure as he added his other hand and lightly started rubbing down his forearm. When he got to his wrist, Eliot couldn’t help the strangled noise that partly escaped through his nose, high and strained. Hardison moved away from there immediately, going back to tracing soothing, gentle patterns. “You’re ok, you’re ok. I can work with this, no problem. Where do you keep your hot pads, man?”

“Bathroom, lower right drawer,” Eliot grit out. Parker was zipping off to get it and warm it up before he could even process. Hardison applied a little more pressure with his fingertips, rubbing the meat of his forearm. Eliot breathed out long and slow at how good it felt once the initial ache had ebbed.

“I want to try giving you a hand massage, but I don’t wanna hurt you more than it would help,” Hardison said, pausing slightly. “You up for it? I’m not gonna pressure you either way.”

Eliot’s thoughts stuttered, and then bolted in different directions. The feeling that he didn’t deserve this, that this was too much to ask, which had been simmering this whole time leapt to life again. It joined with the wounded, snarling animal part of him that still wanted to hide, burrow down with the covers over his head until his pain faded into the muted background noise of the world. He didn’t even know if a hand massage would work, might make the pain worse.

But it might be nice, a small, hopeful part of him murmured. Eliot couldn’t remember the last time he had been offered something like this, let alone the last time he had taken the person up. If there was anyone he trusted to do it, if there was anyone he wanted to receive it from, it was these two. How could he refuse them even he wasn’t fully on board with what they were suggesting?

“Sure, just…” Eliot said as Parker returned with the hot pad, pausing from tossing it hand to hand like a hot potato to fix her stare on him. He licked his lips, swallowed around a dry throat. “Just be gentle.”

“I will,” Hardison said earnestly, taking the hot pad from Parker to gently maneuver it under Eliot’s hands, resting on his knees. Eliot tensed slightly as the thief leapt up onto the back of the couch, perching above his head, but otherwise relaxed as the warmth of the hot pad started to loosen the ache in his hands. Hardison started where he had before, applying the slightest pressure to the hitter’s forearm. Parker ran her fingertips lightly through his hair, humming.

“Your hair is kinda wonky,” she said, fingers catching on a tangle. Eliot winced.

“That’s what happens when you go to bed without brushing it properly, you know that,” he grumbled, breath hitching as her fingertips grazed his scalp. His breath stuttered again as Hardison’s hands started working towards the sore meat of his wrist. Eliot’s hand began to shake.

“It’s ok baby, I got you,” Hardison murmured under his breath, more soothing sound than words. Eliot cracked open an eye to see him looking between his hands and his phone, playing a video where it was propped on his thigh.

“Man, are you watching hand massage tutorials right now?” he gritted out, doing a poor job of masking his genuine amusement with frustrated disbelief.

The hacker tapped his index finger against Eliot’s arm lightly. “I’ve been watching videos dude; think you’re so slick, tryna hide your hand pain from me. I just wanna make sure I get it right in real time.”

Parker’s fingers running through Eliot’s hair more boldly silenced any follow-up thoughts he had, mind going fuzzy with how good it felt. Without thinking, he insistently pushed his head up further into her touch, making her laugh. The sound reverberated in his chest, leaving him longing to hear it again. Instead a half-whine left his throat as Hardison probed the bottom of Eliot’s palm, the ache drawing him back to full awareness.

The hacker backed off for a moment. “Sorry, sorry. You still cool to keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eliot breathed shakily.

“Just tell me if there’s anyplace else that needs to be handled more delicately, or you don’t want me going at all,” Hardison said, putting his clever hands to Eliot’s again and taking up his gentle, slow pace. Parker’s fingers had paused in his hair a second, but went back to running through it again, scratching his scalp on every other pass.

Slowly, slowly, the vice of pain on Eliot’s hands started to dissipate, bone by bone, finger by finger. He don’t know how long he sat there in a haze, as Hardison and Parker patiently touched him, fixated on the single task of caring for him. The thought made the tender space behind his breastbone twinge. When he surfaced from the half-asleep contentment of their efforts, the television was on, Star Trek playing at the lowest volume. Eliot grunted, lifting his head from the couch to look at the two of them sitting beside him, grinning at his movements. Hardison’s warm hand was still in his, but instead of massaging he was just holding it softly.

“Hey sleepy,” teased Parker, throwing herself over Hardison to get closer and forcing an “Oof!” out of him.

Eliot looked down to his hands, flexing one experimentally, in disbelief at how the ache had faded to an almost imperceptible hum. With the other he tightened his fingers around Hardison’s hand, moving his thumb lightly over his.

“Hey,” Eliot simply said back, a real smile rising to his lips.

[rezzyromance]

Imagine reader having a bad day. She just rants and raves and doesn’t shut the hell up.

Karl is busy trying to work and reader is starting to get on his nerves because he can’t concentrate (while finding her rants low-key cute).

In a moment of madness + frustration, he pushes back his chair, storms over to her and kisses her. He’ll say he did it to shut you up but the really he’s been wanting to do that for a long time.

Need me a guy like this.

You had been ranting for who knows how long. Today, it felt like everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. And, sadly, the only person who was available for you to vent to was Karl. Beloved Karl. It wasn't often he let you interrupt his work so you can talk, let alone complain about things he found rather silly. He felt bad for you due to the frustrated state you were in which is why he agreed in the first place. Now, he's barely gotten any work done as you both sat in his office space.

"And then, this lady at the village looked at me weird. She just kept staring and she scrunched her nose at me as if she was looking at something revolting!", you had been pacing back in forth during the whole rant. Karl was trying to draw out some blueprints, but seeing you pace around back and forth in the corner of his eye kept interrupting. It wasn't as distracting as your words though. You were so flustered and aggravated. While he was growing aggravated as well, he began to find your anger cute.

"And guess what? When I went to the Duke today, HE DIDN'T HAVE WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR! CAN YOU BEIEVE IT?", you threw your arms up in disbelief. "Nope.", he responds with a sigh as he made a tiny adjustment to his barely progressed work. "I was looking for some specific berries. Luckily, the book Donna gave me about the local wildlife said I could find them on bushes. I found the bushes, but there weren't any berries! They're out of season!", you continued to complain, not even checking to see if he was a actively listening. You just kept on until it was all finally of your chest.

"And after that, I tried to fix that chair with the broken leg in the bedroom, and I broke it more! How did I even do that!?', your pacing began to pick up speed. "No clue.", he says bluntly. The pencil he was holding in his hand was about to snap under the pressure he was gripping it with. His other hand was place on his head, propping it up as he rested his elbow on his desk with a growing pissed expression.

"And one of the lycans had a bad cut, so I tried to give it some bandages and the damn thing nearly bit my hand off! I thought you trained those things!", the image of you trying to help an injured lycan and failing drifted around in his head. It was almost as funny as it was distracting. He was fighting a smile that was creeping up on his face. While he found your efforts to help the creature cute, he was still frustrated that his time was seemingly being wasted.

He sat up straight and took a good hard look at the blueprint in front of him. The first picture was barely sketched out. It was covered in eraser shavings from the amount of times he messed up. And, upon further inspection, he could see where he was writing a description for something and accidentally began to write down things that you were saying as he struggled to multitask. The sight of this made his brow furrow and his jaw clench. All of his efforts for his work for the past unknown amount of time were useless.

"And Donna invited me to another tea party, but I can't deal with Angie. I mean I know Donna loves her, but that piece of plastic is fucking nuts and it makes me so uncomfortable.", you continued to rant about the doll. He didn't know if he wanted to correct you and tell you that she's porcelain and not plastic. All he knew is how much he missed the silence of his office now. Although, there was something about you running around in circles while wildly throwing your hands up in frustrated fits of rage that he found adorable.

Finally, he knew he had enough. He knew he had to do something if he wanted to finish his work. He sighed and put down the pencil he was using to draw out some blueprints. He looks over, preparing to tell you to shut up, but he couldn't help but get distracted. You were talking with your hands. And, you kept running your hands through your hair, making messier and messier as your pointless ranting went on and on.

He didn't even notice he was staring until you made eye contact with him and stopped. 'Are you listening to me?" "Yes.", he lies. And with that, your pacing continues as you spout more and more bullshit. His feelings confused him. You were keeping him from being productive and nothing you were upset about had any real long term meaning, but you just looked so cute when you're all riled up. His work laid on his desk, practically screaming to be finished.

"Oh right...", he turned back to his work in hopes to finish it. "And Alcina said I need to think more about what I wear because I care more about how comfortable my clothes are compared to how they look. Isn't that just bitchy?" "Mhm." The mentioning of her caused his eyes to roll. "Please just stop please just stop please just stop please just stop", repeated through his head as he wished for peace and quiet. He accidentally broke his pencil in his tense and clutched hands.

Finally, he had had enough. He threw the broken pencil pieces to the ground and stood up, shoving his chair to the side before marching over towards you. You didn't even notice until his fingers were tangled in your hair, turning your face towards his. He then pulls you into a kiss that lasts a couple of seconds. Enough for him to release some of his energy in a not so aggressive way while also getting you to be quiet for a bit.

You were speechless when he pulled away and he was thankful. "What was that for?', you ask as you smile and grab him by the coat sleeve, tugging on it. He pulls it out of your grasp, but not too aggressively. "Just wanted to shut you up for a goddamn second." "Oh yeah? Well what if I keep talking?" A mischievous smile spreads on your face as he looks back at you with a growing frustrated expression, but you could spot a small smile curling upwards from the corners of his mouth. "Nope.", he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you out the door. Once you're out the door, he puts you down. "Don't interrupt my works again. And, for the love of god, stop caring so much about what other people think. " You open your mouth to object to his decision on kicking you out, but he kisses you again. This time, you can feel him smile into it. He truly just wanted to kiss you again. "Now, leave me alone for a second. When I'm finished, you can tell me about all the other pointless bullshit from your day." And with that, he closes the door. While having you away is less distracting, he still can't help but think of you as he works, the taste of you still lingering on his lips. "Better get this done fast."

[ellsbclls]

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

[fermented-writers-block]

PART 1 of 6 of the Owl Deity Hooty Theory

[NEXT PART]

[OWL DEITY HOOTY THEORY MASTERPOST] (in development)

(TLDR at bottom of post)

Over several long months of research and analysis since March of 2020, I have been following an utterly fascinating thread of potential misdirection and subtle details throughout The Owl House, and today, I would like to start weaving together of what I believe could become one of the biggest and most cleverly disguised twists in the entire show.

To begin, let’s take a look at the B plot of Understanding Willow:

On first glance, it’s an ultimately inconsequential sidestory with the sole purpose of justifying an excuse to keep Luz and Amity in Willow’s mind, as well as providing some well-needed room to breathe and release tension after the veryemotionally charged confrontation with Inner Willow. After half an episode of Eda and King outdoing the other in ridiculous ways to win Gus’ vote and Gus running off in frustration at the end of the episode from Hooty’s inane rambling, it’s easy to laugh off Gus’ pick and assume that nothing/of value was said when he closed the door for the interview.

However, if one pays close attention to that very scene, Hooty actually canstill be heard (if faintly) underneath Eda and King’s grumbling, interestingly talking about how “It all started with a hunt. Blood red skies. That’s right, I was created-.”

Now, while it may seem silly to focus on dialogue from Hooty of all characters, this A) tells us that there was an event in the past involving blood red skies and a hunt of some kind, B) that Hooty had been created close to said event, and C) implies that what he knows but can’t tell as a story worth a damn is EXTREMELY important to be included and be hidden in such a manner.

For comparison, the only other instance of dialogue being tucked away in the background in the entire show is in Wing It Like Witches:

During the lecture at the beginning of the episode, the history teacher openswith lore on Belos appointing a head witch to each coven over 50 years ago, immediately cluing in the audience to try and decipher the rest of the lecture as it moves to the background. Adding to this is how the musical sting when Luz shows off her movie obscures what he says even further, making it even more of a intriguing puzzle that the creators clearly intended for viewers to pick up on and attempt to solve.

In contrast, the hidden dialogue of Hooty’s interview is much shorter and not as hard to decipher as the teacher’s history lesson, but at the same time, there are few to no indicators whatsoever in that scene to clue in the audience to even check for something like that. It comes at the end of an episode where most viewers would have been paradoxically tired out and driven abuzz by the revelations of Amity and Willow’s relationship, doesn’t attempt to draw much attention to itself, and frames itself as a comedic subversion of audience expectations with neither the “greatest witch who ever lived” or the self-proclaimed king of demons being picked by Gus.

Instead, he picks someone that the show portrays constantly as an oblivious and gullible idiot after being described as a “state of the art defense system” at the very beginning of the series. Someone who, despite it being played for laughs, is scarily capable of casually subduing Lilith offscreen one episode and then beating her and an entire squad of Emperor’s Coven members without even the slightest change in personality or temperament.

Someone who, due to being the Owl House itself, could be considered the titular character of the entire show, yet is taken for granted by those who inhabit him and barely gets any respect from even the cutely patronized King - including when Hooty could be interpreted as having potentially been full on DEAD for a time given the use of extremely cartoony X eyes and a lack of vital signs in The Intruder.

And someone who Eda at best tolerates and at worst abandons in personal interactions and only occasionally acknowledges him when he’s actually doing his job. Yet at the same time is so implicitly trusted beyondprotecting her home to the point where - when up against the closest person Eda has to an equal outside of likely Belos - the only actually recognizable spells Eda used in combat were 1) stereotypical energy blasts, 2) a single shield spell in Covention, and 3) a noticeably large reliance on imitations of Hooty above any other spells she could have decided to use instead.

In short, the show repeatedly tells us he is just an idiotic gag character through and through, but at the same time demonstrates he has immense power through both onscreen and offscreen demonstrations, implicitly tells us his importance ahead of time through Eda’s imitations in actually serious situations, and treats his interview and origin story as - if not even more- important to keep secret than a long lore dump about how Belos’ reign works.

After all, there being only two instances of hidden background dialogue in the entire season is already intriguing on its own, but for one to get plenty of clues to draw in people’s attention and for the other to be treated as just another gag about a “mere comic relief character” - aka a good way to draw away attention and lower one’s guard - heavily suggests a far deeper significance buried under layers of misdirection, comedy, and conditioned audience expectations.

I mean, when Eda bragged about being “a bad girl living in a secret fortress,” Hooty followed with a remark about how “I’m the secret.” While that line may sound like Hooty simply being confused as part of a one-off on the surface, it’s an odd dialogue choice for the writers to pick when you think about all the other reminders of his nature as the house itself throughout the season. With the precedent these moments set, it would have been much more appropriate for him to latch onto the “fortress” side of “secret fortress” AND it would have been just as equally funny of a joke about his awareness skills, but instead, Hooty broke away from the established trend to say something that would make people suspicious were it to come from anyone else.

In a way, this reminds me much of the many subtle bits of foreshadowing strewn across the show, like Luz unknowingly describing Amity in Witches Before Wizards and Eda burning a hole through Luz’s coven type quiz that coincidentally selected the same track she had taken at Hexside as “a punky potionist.” At the time of airing, these initially seemed like one-off jokes, but eventually came back in full force several episodes later with Amity’s hidden sensitive feelings and love for the Azura books becoming clear in Lost in Language, and the reveal of Eda’s school track in Something Ventured, Someone Framed with her school misdemeanor pictures.

That said, compared to these individual bits of minor foreshadowing, the jokes about Hooty in Understanding Willow appear to simply be the most obvious pieces in a giant puzzle, implicitly and outright telling attentive viewers that there’s a major mystery to be uncovered here.

In fact, I feel bold enough to say that we could be looking at a twist on a similar scale to that of the Pink Diamond/Rose Quartz and Stanford Pines twists in Steven Universe and Gravity Falls respectively, what with this particular puzzle piece coming from how Gus wanted to make THE greatest interview of all time, and how he was looking for someone who was “interesting, accomplished, AND noteworthy:”

Note the emphasis on the ‘and’ here, as Gus had made a big deal that “people aren’t meantto be all those things” at the beginning of the episode, so as a result, stripping away all the comedic framing of his subplot leaves the intriguing implication that whoever - and, perhaps, what- Hooty is, they really are the most interesting, accomplished, AND noteworthy person out of everyone.

I could go further and talk about why I suspect the mystery surrounding King’s origins, whether true or not, is partially meant to misdirect us from paying attention to Hooty, or how the TOH crew’s could be disguising legitimate clues to his nature among made up and highly meme-able joke answers in order to proliferate said concepts throughout the fandom - thus letting us do all the dirty work of getting ourselves used to the ideas and used to dismissing them at the same time - but to bring things to a close for now, I’d like to leave you all with a question that I’ll start answering next time:

What does it mean when both the most powerful and notorious witch on the Boiling Isles and the possible actual king of demons/the Titan itself/something don’t match up to a house? And what do you think it is that makes him so special to warrant such misdirection?

TLDR: Between Eda’s golem spells, the show stressing his nature as the titular house, his implicit strength, and the odd dialogue and structure of Understanding Willow‘s subplot in relation to him, I believe I have good reason to suspect the show has been giving us many hints towards Hooty being much, much more important than it would like us to currently believe or even joke about. Particularly, through clever uses of comedy to establish and enforce a strong audience bias against looking closely at him or unironically taking him seriously, and to potentially plant the seeds for something I will start exploring in Part 2.