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crimsonji · 1 year

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*slides into your asks* KAZ KAZ KAZ!!! HIIII!! I SAW YOU TAKING REQUESTS FOR SCARA??? Well I have a crack-ish idea xD could i request him together with a very oblivious crush? I want to see him pulling his hair out in frustration at when the reader can't read the room or like:

“where u flirting with me?"

“idiot. Ive been trying to do so for months.”

-kinda vibes 😂😂😂 tho dont force yourself if u cant write these~ I understand SO HAVE A GOOD DAY AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELD UEUEUEUE!! ILY /p

- Jade 👻

୨୧ wanderer has a crush but reader is oblivious

ft. wanderer x gn!reader

cw: fluff, wrote this in 40 mins brainrotting lmao, wanderer calls you stupid, gave up on formatting bcus IM TIRED

>> 🍁 kazuha’s musings : augh I cannot will myself to draw rn so this is like the perfect ask I can use to word vomit. anyways YES OBLIVIOUS X OBV INTO THEM IS MY FAVOURITE THING EVER.

Wanderer has already signed his death wish once he accidentally fell head over heels for you, and it’s so frustrating how every single thing you do is so breathtaking to him—and he doesn’t even have a breath to begin with.

He’s so torn up about his feelings, a part of him wants to know how you feel about him, if you also stay up on cold nights wondering how your warm hand would feel against his cold skin, or the events of his travels with you replaying in his mind until he ultimately falls asleep.

Maybe he’ll never know that, because unfortunately for Wanderer, you’re the biggest idiot he’s ever met in his life. When the wanderer had accepted his newfound feelings for you, the only way he knew to react was to treat you with a meaner attitude. Yet his mannerisms were different—maybe even caring at times?

He has a habit of insulting people due to his huge superiority complex, but Wanderer just insults you whenever you do anything he finds attractive. Like, “Why are you smiling so much? It looks stupid on you.” or “What, are you just so happy to be in the presence of a creation the equivalent of a god? Wh— you are? …Shut up already, lowly human.”

His mean comments tread on the line of flirtatious overtime, and he grimaces whenever you just brush it off as his usual bitter personality. He’s weirdly good at finding back-handed ways to compliment you, “Your cooking tastes good, I bet I could do better, though.” and it pisses him off when you give him the same oblivious look every time—you idiot, when will you realize he adores every single thing about you?! Not like he’s been very apparent himself, though…

One time the Wanderer had picked some flowers and almost shyly handed you to them, anxiously waiting for your reaction as he held out the Sumeru roses in front of you “Hey, you like flowers, right? …Since you’ve done so much for me, here… ?! Why are you just gawking at me like that—? Take it already or I’m throwing them away.” Yet your response made the Wanderer want to dissolve right then and there, smiling and taking the bouquet from his hands, Wanderer nearly shivering at the faint contact of your fingertips against his.

“Thank you, Wanderer.”

“…Idiot.”

Oh archons, Wanderer’s really dug himself into a hole. And what’s even more frustrating is that you don’t even see any romantic intentions in the random flowers he gives you, something that had became a daily occurrence. But no way in hell was Wanderer gonna swallow his pride and straight up TELL you he likes you, he’d rather die than do that.

Tbh the progression of how much more romantic or affectionate his actions become is almost depressing to see, the only thing Wanderer receiving is a tilt of the head and a cute smile—not like that wasn’t enough of a reward for him, anyway, but those stupid horribly enchanting eyes of yours gave away how dense you were being to his feelings!!!!

At some point all of this has just been bubbling up under the surface of his chest, so on one fateful night, some of the Wanderer’s feelings finally slip past his lips. You had set up a campsite for the night, the calm fire that gurgled and popped emitting a kind warmth and light that perfectly reflected off your features—you looked really pretty right now, you always did. These thoughts regularly came to Wanderer’s mind, and he used to adamantly push them away, but he’s long accepted this horrible thing called ‘affection’— so these bubbling thoughts continued to drift and be pondered upon his mind.

“…You’re pretty.” he whispers

He watches you perk your head, turning to the man with wide-eyes from where he sat a reasonable distance away from you. “Huh?”

Wanderer scoffed, repeating himself louder this time “I said—you’re pretty.”

You paused, lips parted but the words fell dead on your tongue. He narrowed his eyes at you, he wasn’t gonna confess, not today, but he’s sick of seeing that dumb look on your face all the time.

“…Thank you?” he only grimaced more at your usual response.

“You know what I mean when I say that, right?”

You shook your head “Not really, but I’m glad that you don’t hate me as much as you used to.”

Now it was his turn to pause, that same dumbfounded look now on his face. Since when did you think he hated you? “Idiot, who said I hated you? I’m the same level as an omnipotent god, I could have discarded you a long time ago… and besides…”

“Besides what?”

The Wanderer bit his lip, why is he hesitating? Is he scared? No, no, that can’t be, you’re just a lowly human, is all, a beautifully wonderful human… “You’re, well, not horrible to talk to, and even if you act stupid sometimes I—

—I guess that’s what makes me so attracted to you.”

…

“Are you flirting with me?”

Holy shit. A part of Wanderer just wanted to take back everything he just said from how dumb you sounded, but holy shit! You noticed, finally. He couldn’t help the wide smirk when he got a taste of what you looked like when you were blushing, the red tint blooming across your cheeks. He chuckled, leisurely crossing his leg over and folding his arms smugly;

“Have been for the past few months, but thanks for noticing.”

#[🍁] kazuha's haiku collection #[💌] letters of songbird #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer genshin #wanderer x reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin

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kingspacebar · 20 days

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Is there any particular artist, show, game, or movie that inspired ur art style? It’s so pretty ^^

I have so many!!! I definitely can't name every single one but heres a few that have been extremely influential to me!! This took me 2 hours to write i am SO sorry lmao

Puyo Puyo (Specifially Fever, Quest, and Tetris)

CUTESY BRIGHT BRIGHT COLORS!!!!!! Thats everything I love!!!!!! I'm pretty sure I talked about this when I first got into puyo puyo but I for SURE instantly decided that yep Im steering my style in this direction sorryyyyyy!!! I just think its so fun and silly and cute and rahhh it makes me so happy.

Especially for the work I do most often, which is character portraits without backgrounds, I will often look at puyo puyo posing just to get ideas!! (I've drawn Arle's dumbfounded pose 100000000 times becus I love it so much). The puyo puyo anatomy has very noodly arms and legs but with big ass shoes and accessories which is probably my favorite design thing in the world....

I seriously recommend just looking through the Puyo Puyo Nexus wiki for pose ideas (if you want something cute/silly of course) because every single one is just perfect. I am trying to get out of some dumb art habits of my own right now, but hopefully in the future you'll be able to see more goofy poses with sillier effects :3

Muse Dash Again I want you to look at the COLORS. Its so bright and this time you can really tell where I took my shading style from. I dont want my shadows to be dark I want them to be PINK or PURPLE. thank you. For my own art, I really try to make it so the darkest "black" is actually a deep purple or blue, and as I keep making art that dark color keeps getting just a bit lighter haha...

This is also the reason I color my lineart the way I do. I just really want to add as many colors as possible into the image. And if the image looks a bit more pink after that then thats just an extra perk!!

I also need to bring up the animation because they're just so bouncy and alive!!! This is like an instant stunlock for me, I have to look at them, theyre so BOUNCYYY!!!!!! I don't do much animation but every other week I get the sudden urge to try tweening again just to eventually get to the point I can make something similar to these for my own ocs lol

Great Pretender This show has some of the most gorgeous art ive ever seen. All the backgrounds are so bright and colorful. I dont usually draw art with backgrounds anymore sadly, but when I used to I really tried to study these for them. And I hope in the future I can make more art and show how far I've come.

Though I;ve changed to a more chibi style in recent times (thanks puyo puyo), this was still one of the first times I had ever watched a show and said "Oh my god I love this artstyle I need to get better at art" and Its always in my mind for that reason.

Ive definitely stolen lots of elements from the style. Though they've gotten more subtle over the years. I dont really know how to describe it any further but I hope you understand what I mean by looking at these screenshots,,,

#theres a TON more but I these r my favs!!!!#asks

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dokutah-exe · 1 year

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Opinions on this? (Original: godfather-doughboy)

let me tell you something

my ex-wife is one of the best, most compassionate people i have ever had the pleasure of re-remembering again. day in and day out, she does nothing but mindlessly devote herself to a single cause: the betterment of her fellow peers. she agonizes over the moral choices she has to make and the sacrifices that probably eat her up every night. i dont think the potentially twisted nature of making the very infected work for their cure is lost on her; she knows, on some level, that its wrong, and yet its the only conclusion in her power she can reach. she refuses to work above others; rather, she works alongside them. she follows and respects as much as possible, within as much reason as possible. she will do whatever it takes to make sure there is a world to come back to, and she will do whatever she can to make sure she can bring as many people with her to that world in one piece as possible.

i dont really fully understand why she hates me. but ive mused about it, and i think the reason why is because i am the manifestation of the execution of decisions she really, really hates. im a weapon: from the very get-go im taken out of cold storage like a nuke, and everyones first desperate mission is either to ensure my survival or keep me five feet under. i think im the complete and total sum of her moral failings, the very shadow of the things she knows she doesnt want to do, and thus has no choice but to entrust in me to do. i wonder if she thinks that its total cowardice that she has to defer military and tactical knowledge to me, to be the one to pull the trigger on a gun she doesnt want to hold. its obvious, then, that she would hate me. i am the extension of her limitations of her morality; where she cant go, i will, to tactics and strategies so dark that it would be wrong to hate me. she has to hate me: for me to preserve her ability to continue to do what she does best, it is imperative she hates me. and, she probably hates that too.

so no matter how much she prattles on about the different cultures and politics about the regions she visits, and the sweeping monologues she has about me or her or everything or whatever is going on, i think you should listen to her. she deserves to be listened to, after so much pain and weight on her shoulders.

Because I will not cease listening to her.

#arknights #kal'sit #plus like she sorta has my memories hostage #seriously i would not remember anything without her closure and amiya #like it is Crucial to Listen To Her You Dont Understand #she still wont tell me where my card collection is

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peachesandmilktea · 2 years

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𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝕭𝖑𝖚𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖆 [𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝐼𝐼𝐼]

Click here to see the full art!! I had to crop it and my heart BLEEDS. Shout out to @obsidianne-art / @beware-thecrow for being the best wro/co-writer/artist this earth has ever seen.

Part I. Part II. Current Part. Part IV.

Captain Shigaraki is a merciless pirate, a terror over the seven seas, a monster of a man who fears neither god nor man. You’ve sworn to take him down and bring him to his knees under the crown’s justice, and you would have, if only he hadn’t discovered your most well-kept secret.

TW: Lots and lots of horny thoughts, enemies to lovers, Shigaraki Tomura is bad at feelings, smut to come soon.

If some days were lazy, others were busy.

They were long, hours stretching for what felt like an eternity, minutes ticking with the speed of years. Tomura would spend them hunched over his desk, crimson gaze trailing the length of a stupid document or another, all to try and tear any information from them that would grant him victory against his enemies. If you’d been his greatest one, that didn’t mean you were the only opponent he had to face, and others would take your place as long as you remained on his ship.

And so, he calculated. Made plans. Thought every little thing through so that he could maintain the rule he held on the sea in the palms of his murderous hands. There was still the uncertainty of you, though, one he couldn’t theorize for he didn’t know the true extent of your loyalty to your fleet. Would you betray them, then? Would you disavow the fate you’d chosen for yourself, and take the one he offered instead? Or would you turn from him, stab him in the chest when he expected it the least and leave him for dead in your wake?

The perspective left a bitter taste on his tongue.

He wouldn’t let you betray him, but the thought that you might was enough to make a migraine birth beneath his temple. It was a dangerous game the two of you were playing, a cutthroat waltz just as sharp as a blade. A single misstep could mean doom for either one or the other, and Tomura wasn’t planning on being defeated so soon.

At least not before uncovering each and every last one of the secrets your eyes held, whenever they caught his gaze.

With a sigh, he pushed the last of the documents away from him, as far as possible on that worn-out desk of his — after so many hours spent studying each and every word those stupid papers held, he would have gouged his own eyeballs out rather than see another trace of ink on a crumpled sheet. A slight pain pulsed beneath his skull, remains of the migraine the mere thought of you had given him, and he resolved to take a break, albeit a small one.

Before duty called again and pushed him back towards those cursed documents, he stood and strode towards the door for his cabin, eager to take a deep breath from the night breeze surely blowing through the sails of his ship. The wind was cold that late at night, and the fresh air made him feel anew, just like the faint clamor of noises he could hear from the higher deck, right above his cabin.

“The coat, the hat,” Sako’s voice mused in the distance, barely loud enough for Tomura to hear. “Are you planning on stealing our dear Captain’s whole wardrobe?”

“Stealing would imply that I got them without permission,” you replied, matter-of-factly. “The coat was a rental, and the hat I earned, fair and square.”

Tomura didn’t mean to eavesdrop — had it been about anyone else, he would have climbed the stairs towards the higher deck, where the whole crew was gathered in the light of a few candles like every evening, and joined the conversation. But this time, it was you talking about him, and curiosity wrapped around his heart like a prickling blanket, sinking its claws into his thoughts as mercilessly as a wild animal. Instead of either going back to his cabin or making his presence known, he simply leaned against the doorframe without a noise, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened.

“You should ask for his blood next,” Toga chimed in, tone as cheerful as ever. “Make a little vial that you could wear on a necklace or something. That would be the cutest thing.”

The sea breeze carried the sound of your laugh like a song.

“It’s probably full of diseases,” Dabi said, always so sour in the way he spoke. “What the hell do you see in him, for you to be so smitten with that mug of his?”

The question made Tomura roll his eyes, an annoyed sigh spilling from his lips.

But he’d studied you long enough that he could picture your reaction clear as day, without even seeing it — you would frown, throwing a glare at Dabi, your gaze terrifying enough it could make a grown man weep and then, you would bite your lower lip in a soon-to-be-unsuccessful attempt at holding back the jab you were dying to throw at your opponent. It would be insulting, it would be cold, it would be devastating, because you were as violent with your words as you were with your blade, and Dabi was the main receptor of the rage you kept so silently tucked in the depths of your mind, concealed beneath a soft little smile and eyes full of gentle kindness.

But silence stretched, and for a second, Tomura wondered if Dabi had managed to shut you up — or if, perhaps, you shared the tattooed man’s opinion on his appearance, a thought that filled his chest with pure, overwhelming dread.

“It’s just…” you started after a few seconds of hesitation, some type of uncharacteristic shyness pulling at your words. “He’s…”

Tomura waited with a frown, desperately wishing you could get it over with faster.

“He looks like… moonlight.”

Moonlight.

What the hell did it mean? If he’d been confused by your words or behavior before, that was a whole new level. Was his skin too pale? Was his face too covered in weird little spots, damaged skin that was rough to the touch here and there? Did he look like a creature of the night, a monster that found shelter in the shadows only?

“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” Toga sang.

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” Dabi mocked.

The sigh that crossed your lips was so loud even Tomura could hear it.

“You don’t understand,” you said, almost indignantly. “It’s the kind of light that’s just so soft and gentle, you want to bask in it. There’s a kind of comforting loneliness to moonlight, as I think there is to him. Maybe to me, as well.”

You marked a pause, and Tomura noticed he’d been holding his breath.

“And he’s just as pretty as the moon. I could stare at him for hours.”

He raised a trembling hand to his face in the desperate hopes to conceal the searing blush that he felt creeping over his cheeks. It burned underneath his skin, making even more heat birth in the depths of his chest, a fire that he didn’t know how to extinguish. Slowly, he turned back towards his cabin, taking the few steps needed to get inside, and closed the door behind him, drowning the sound of your voice into the silence of his quarters.

He hadn’t been supposed to hear that.

He wished he hadn’t, because now, a thunderstorm was raging in his heart, threatening to rip out of his chest, pulsing beneath his ribs as it called your name. The feeling was as painful as it was exhilarating, and it stole each and every breath from Tomura’s lungs as it settled deep inside his entrails, never to be chased away.

“Moonlight,” he murmured for no one but himself, some kind of awe pulling at his voice as the word rolled on his tongue.

If he was moonlight, you shone brighter than the sun.

He longed to reach for you and bask in your light, to let your warmth fill his harsh, rotten little heart, to lean into your touch, ever so gentle. He would cradle your face in clumsy, rough hands as pale as the moon and you would smile, sunlight made flesh, until he felt like he could die for a chance to get a taste of your lips, of your skin, or more.

And maybe you’d let him.

Or maybe he’d get burned on the way.

Either way, that was a pain he was eager to feel.

—

Each breath after that felt like diving into dark waters, devoid of any knowledge of the monsters it contained. Tomura wasn’t easily impressed — not by syrens, not by seastorms, not even by your blade as you had wielded it against him merely a few weeks before. He was a man made of sharp edges and clever wits, a proud leader who’d learned to swallow every hint of fear or worry before it could clog his lungs, his throat, his thoughts.

Yet, you made him feverish.

It was an unknown evil that spread through his entrails and made a home there, like a dire, overwhelming need. It was a stash of desires, some gentle and some sickeningly filthy, all catching fire in a burning inferno whenever your eyes lingered on his face. He now knew your thoughts about him, and he’d never felt less like moonlight than since you’d referred him as such in that conversation that was meant to be secret from his prying ears.

Act on it, Tomura, the voice of a ghost whispered in his mind. Just take. Anything you want is yours to have.

But he wouldn’t, because the mere thought of it was a liability as long as he didn’t know where your loyalties lay. You’d called him better, and he hoped he was — or at least, good enough to swallow his own desires and cravings until he knew you wouldn’t stab him in the back on your way to his bed. For his own sake, and the sake of his crew.

It wasn’t easy, though.

Thoughts plagued his mind like a disease, and he sometimes wished he were as reckless as he used to be, lifetimes ago. It would be so easy, if only he just gave in, if only he decided to put his trust in you at last, his fateful enemy turned faithful companion. He would only have to hold out a hand and reach out for you, and how nice would your skin feel under the touch of his callous fingers? He’d dreamed of the taste of your lips, the whimpers that would cross them as he took you, of a thousand ways he’d tear each and every cute little sound from the safe comfort of your mouth.

He took a deep breath in a vain attempt to shake those images from his sickened mind, instead doing his best to focus on the task at hand — the sharpening of his sword. The stone laid on his thighs as he sat in his cabin, the blade moving in quick, dangerous moves and leaving a trail of iron dust in its wake. It was mechanical, and not difficult enough to clean the filth from Tomura’s mind, no matter how much he silently pleaded his own heart to turn from the thought of you.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Hey, Captain, I was wondering—”

The sound of your voice echoed in Tomura’s cabin when you pushed the door to it, at the same time as the blade slashed through his palm. He cursed himself in silence, barely stifling an annoyed groan as he took in the cut — it was a big gash, deep and dark, enough to make blood drip in rivers down his forearm, staining his clothes, splattering on the wooden floor.

Maybe he’d been underestimating the extent of his little weakness, if the mere sound of your voice was enough to startle him so.

“Careful with that blade,” you said, but the words weren’t mocking. Instead, you eyed him with quiet concern. “If you hadn’t slashed me once or twice already, I’d even think you were clumsy with a weapon. Or is something on your mind, perhaps?”

If only you knew — he couldn’t tell you, wouldn’t tell you, though.

His mind was playing enough tricks to torment him without you barging into the scene as well. You wouldn’t be cruel with it, he knew, and that was what made the perspective so damn dreadful — you’d be gentle, you’d be kind, you’d whisper sweet nothings in his ears like you’d done unknowingly last time, and Tomura wouldn’t be strong enough to keep your thieving hands away from the filthy, darkened heart that lay in the safe comfort of his chest. If he knew how to fight opponents by thousands, he’d never faced such a threat, and who was to say he was cold enough to withstand the desire, the need he felt should it be requited?

He ignored the thought once again.

“Nothing,” he replied, the sourness in his tone barely concealed. “Nothing’s on my mind. What were you wondering?”

“If you’d let me patch you up,” you simply replied, striding your way towards him. No matter the words, you weren’t asking for permission, he knew, and despite his wishes that you would simply turn and leave him to his misery, you still sat on his desk right beside him, eyeing the cut with careful attention.

“Since when do you have nursing credentials?”

The jab was stupid, but an amused smile reached your lips.

“I had to learn to heal myself, for both shallow and deep wounds,” you explained. “Can’t exactly go to the navy’s infirmary with these.”

You gestured loosely to your chest, and Tomura instantly averted his gaze.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look—

No amount of self control was enough for the way you leaned towards him from the desk you were perched on, grasping his slashed hand between gentle fingers. His eyes wandered then, despite his cold resolutions, on the soft, silky skin he could make out beneath the fabric of the shirt Toga had lent you. It looked inviting, mesmerizing, fascinating, and he wondered if it would mark easily under his touch, bruise in the shape of his fingers, or redden with the brand of his teeth.

When you slightly turned to study the wound more closely, the piece of clothing slid just a few inches along your shoulder, letting Tomura peek at the cut he’d given you, right underneath the cream-colored fabric. It started near your collarbone and ran lower, lower, lower, in places he wasn’t yet allowed to see but could picture and imagine just as well — places he wished he could claim again, with his mouth instead of his blade this time.

“It’s not that deep,” you commented. “This should be enough.”

In a careless gesture, you pulled at the piece of fabric that held your hair together. It wasn’t luxurious enough to be called a ribbon, not old or crumpled enough to be called a rag either, just somewhere in between that. Most of all, it smelled like you, like iron and blood, like seawater and vanilla.

You wrapped it around his wound and Tomura watched, almost entranced, as your fingers brushed against his, gentle and warm and kind. He wondered what else those hands of yours could do, the mere thought of it making too-hot shivers run down his spine.

He let a relieved sigh cross his lips when you let him go, his hand now all patched up.

But, of course, you wouldn’t allow him any kind of respite.

“Want me to kiss it better?” you asked, eying the results of your work with slight amusement.

The perspective had him grit his teeth in a vain tentative way to keep a grasp on his self-control. It was only half-effective.

“What?”

You simply shrugged in response, but the look in your eyes didn’t seem to reflect the filth of the thoughts that were swarming his own mind — he saw nothing but gentle innocence in those irises of yours, the type of kindness you’d accustomed him to.

“My mother used to do it when I was younger, before she died. Always said a kiss would make anything better. I figured you hadn’t ever experienced that, given your upbringing.”

Tomura’s only memories of a gentle touch were fleeting, blurry, from a past that had unfolded long before he became the pirate Tomura Shigaraki. He hadn’t ever been kissed kindly after a cut, had never been caught in a loving embrace, nor felt a heart beat against his as he let himself melt into the warmth of someone’s tender arms. All because he didn’t even consider it as something plausible for someone like him.

But now, as you slowly grasped his hand in yours once again, he found that he wanted to. Desperately.

And so, he nodded.

“Alright. Do it quickly before I change my mind.”

Because it was dangerous, it was risky, it was a liability. But every single hint at worry that had clogged his mind before faded into a cloud of dirty smoke when you raised his hand to your lips and kissed him there, right in the crook of his wrist, a mere inch below the beginning of the cut, concealed beneath the piece of cloth that smelled like you.

Fire burned beneath his flesh at the touch, so soft and gentle it felt like the kind embrace of a warm summer breeze. It was short, fleeting, gone as soon as he’d felt it, and he almost wished he could beg you to keep going, or at least return the favor, and not only on your wrist but on every single inch of skin you would allow him to touch.

The stupidest idea flashed in Tomura’s mind, but he chased it away with a shake of his head — no, he wouldn’t try and bribe Dabi to get him to punch you in the lips just so that he could make you the same offer. Mostly because Dabi would rat him out at the first opportunity, despite being the only one of his crew members who would accept such a deal.

“There,” you said. “Wait and tell me if it worked, okay?”

You stood up and made your way to the door, your now untied hair gracefully framing your face. The sight made Tomura wish he could pull back one of the strands behind your ear, letting his fingers brush against your cheek as he did so.

“I doubt it will,” he simply replied.

As you laughed, mentioning something about dinner being ready and left him there, closing the door to his cabin behind you, he stretched his hand, searching for the pain that should pulse through the wound there. But instead of the prickling of the cut, the only thing he could feel on his skin was the memory of the soft touch of your lips and so, maybe you’d been right.

Maybe he hurt less than he did before.

----

We're slowly but surely getting there with their relationship hehe!! Next chapter is a bit spicier and then we get to the smut, it's already written 👀✨

I'll post the next chapter as soon as I get enough comments on this one hehe 💕 (People tend to comment only the last chapter of a fic but I need my fill for each of them djsndsnjkjsk)

Please leave a comment, it'll make my day!!

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malka-lisitsa · 7 months

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❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Send me ❤ on anon and I’ll compliment someone at random!

This was an unreasonable amount to send in a single ask christ.

@tricursed good god sometimes i see your stuff and im just like... damn so thats what koala tea's definition is huh? You care so much about hope and you put so much into her. I love seeing her on my dash. Idk a damn thing about legacies but im so invested in her bc of you.

@imundus I've seen a fair few megs but yours is my fave for sure. I also loved your Wenny when she was up and running. You have such a knack for bad ass women, guess it takes one to know one ;)

@stanfordprepped JARED THE SWEETEST SAMMY GOLDEN HEART FR. My fellow digidestined you are one of the rarest gems ive ever met. I miss talking to you. Your take on sam and forester are marvelous and I adore you with every bone in my body.

@snnydcys MAY DEMI SMILE UPON THEE. Literally youre so sweet Lumi and i love all of the characters ive had the pleasure of interacting with. Your Kate, and sunny are top tier <3

@therelentless I am obsessed with your boy. Katherine doesnt understand him and shes made a few snap judgements for sure that are wildly off base- but I adore how you write him. The perfect balance of everything.

@iviaw I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH I LOVE THAT YOUR OC IS A ROUGAROU. They are so DIFFERENT from what you se in mainstream media even tho LITERALLY most "werewolves" TVD INCLUDED have rougarous not werewolves but I digress.... Your Oc is amazing, I love everything about him MORE INTERACTIONS.

@r4chelamber This girl is chaos in all the best ways. I love seeing your posts on my dash and seeing what nonsense shes gotten into now.

@faiththesinfulslayer MY BABY. MY GIRL. MY HOMIE. MY BAD BITCH I MISS YOU. You are my FAVE Faith and my exclusive for a reason. Katherine will not entertain the THOUGHT of a different faith. Will literally curse me and my bloodline if i even think about it.

@demonstigma STOP BC I LOVE??? SEEING YOU?? We don't really interact but my dash should never not have you on it. I wholly enjoy seeing ya boi out there doing everything from A to Z.

@noblehcart You play such a wide range of muses and your thirst for knowledge would make Odin blush. I really love seeing you here and there, and Katherine obviously is still fully invested in getting grumpy Stefan.

@aalexias I LOVE LEXI first of all, second you play her so well i adore seeing her around. I cannot WAIT for some more interaction between her and Katherine. Its what the world deserves.

@bloodiedfxngs MY BOIS. ALL OF THEM. ALL MY BOIS. I love how you write tyler, jeremy, Stefan, MASON. (we need more with them tbh) And while I have not interacted with your girls I am sure they are just as quality <333 bc you are <333

@pierprincess Not many ppl can revive a whole fandom. God damn the power you hold, and its VERY CLEAR WHY in the way you write Star. Chefs kiss flawless.

@pohlepen YA BITCH A QUEEN. STRAIGHT UP. I LOVE your OC I have seen NOTHING ELSE LIKE HER shes so unapologetic and bad ass and I just- Katherine is gonna keep her <3 You had her at birthday head ;P

#Answered #Anonymous #i did not count wrong i just was done #the one and only... sort of: ooc

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dnangelic · 4 months

Note

TSUN! I HAVE SOME CHOICE WORDS TO SAY TO YOU!!!!

you are such an absolute delight to see on the dash and interact with, and that is no exaggeration! I adore all of your muses and even if i don’t know any of their respective medias, i learn about them through your writing and your metas and you talking about them and thats so fun to do!!! ITS ACTUALLY MY FAVORITE THING EVER! I appreciate you giving my dazai a chance despite not knowing bsd aswell as p much any of my other muses sknsksns you’ve been so sweet to me since we first became mutuals and i genuinely love seeing you around so much 😭 i see you on the dash and my day gets atleast 10% better without fail every single time. i hope u talk about your boys forever and ever . ITS SO FUN TO BUILD DYNAMICS WITH YOU!!! anyone is lucky to write with / plot with / interact with you i wont even lie and i genuinely believe that nsjsksnsjssn i appreciate that you show interest in so many of my muses it makes my heart so so so warm . I HOPE WE CAN CONTINUE WRITING NOVELS TOGETHER FOREVERRRRR even though i know im the one who owes you like 2829922 things ksnsksns DW AB THAT . I ALSO WANNA SAY about you writing dark and daisuke specifically i think its so good how much care you put into a series thats really old and like Ive genuinely put the manga on my reading list BECAUSE of the interest garnered from your writing !! SOLELY BECAUSE OF YOU ! u are an absolute angel ( … hehehehensnensn … bejbwnw … get it bc … bc …!2&2!/@/!/82 s hehehehe ) AND YOU ARE ALWAYS SO KIND TO ME and always so interactive and i can’t even beginnnnnnnnnnnnnn to properly articulate how much of a joy you are 2 interact with !!! wishing you and daisuke and dark and yan qing and all ur muses the best day ever . 🙌

OH MY GOOOOOOSH and to think i was sitting here at ur post like 'should i ask permission for nine asking for permission. what if nine doesn't wanna say anything. i hate feeling like im ever panhandling for a compliment. nine should be pouring soup into my lap and slapping dark + calling him a bitch so i can finally apologize but youuuuUUU YOUUUUU ALL THESE FEELINGS R SO MUTUAL!!! I LOVE SEEING U TALK!!! IT BRINGS ME SM JOY TO SEE U POST!!! even the most random stuff. doesn't matter if its long or short. literally dont even worry abt owing me stuff ur presence alone is also a DELIGHT ur fr like such a funny mut and person BUT UR ALSO SO GOOD AT UR MUSES TOO??? LIKE i could go on forever abt how much i respect ur dazai alone and how even if i don't know bsd canon that's probably for the best, bc ur now ur dazai is The canon dazai to me, but u also have like nine... billion... (hehehesbhgbssnsjkdj x2) MUSES ON UR MULTI THAT U ALSO FLAWLESSLY INVEST URSELF IN AND!! WOWWWW WHAT A MUN!!! genuinely im so glad i found u even in this hellsite and that i can just toddle around following u like this everywhere 🐥 every like i leave on ur post is me picking at it for crumbs like a pigeon in a city being tossed bread. keep tossing that bread for me please please. IM CRYING. IM WAILING!!!! BUT SINCE U BROUGHT UP READING DNANGEL LET ME ACTUALLY HELP U OUT TOO??

scans are like absolutely everywhere and most places have the godawful quality fan translations. u can and frankly probably should read the official eng which is available here. dnangel had a weird run where the eng was only licensed and translated up to book 13. 14 and 15 (and beyond) are fan translations, but there's exactly one chapter that's ALWAYS broken on any website you go to except this one. this site doesn't complete the series though so the last link you'd have to hop to is this one. but the entire series is only 20 volumes in total. you could speedread through it in like a day. it's short and sweet and i love it even with its flaws. why else would i b here writing dark n dai. anyways. point is. tysm. im holding u and all ur muses tight. i wont leave u!!!! im so glad i met u!!! uve done sm for me already and i wont forget it!!! MY SO TALENTED FRIEND!!!

#*･ﾟ⊰ ANSWERED. ⊱#*･ﾟ⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT.#longerhuman #WAAAA WAAAAA blows my nose into a tissue #lkjdkgj u should save those links btw #in order #they take you directly to where each last link/chapter leaves off! so no looking for the right one or anything #im always like 'PLEASE DON'T READ THE FAN TRANSLATIONS' at ppl bc those were like. when scanners were just being invented #and all the translations are insanely choppy or questionable #eng isn't word for word and loses some things but that's how it always is with translations sometimes LOOOL #plus i kno u want to see dark's lamE CRINGE ASS GOTH FONTTTT #HIS ~WORLD OF DARKNESS~#ILY THOUGHHHH ILYSM #TYSM AGAIN #WAAAA

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azpherambles · 2 years

Text

Having a lot of thoughts. I know for a fact I'm autistic, no doubt about that, but I'm starting to think I have ADHD now perhaps.

This was never an issue before but I absolutely cannot stop walking around and switching tasks. I have 2 very interesting books on the counters of the kitchen that I'm literally reading a page of then continuing to walk in circles. I drew some stuff this morning in the middle of this, very fun and good but I have to move. I wanted to play a bit of Hades the past few days and even though its very fun even that isn't stopping me from repeatedly walking around, even 'til my legs hurt.

I've been describing this as 'oh, I have to walk around for a few hours in the morning before I can sit down and work' but now even hours isn't wearing me out. Hell, being worn out isn't getting me to sit. I'm musing on getting a standing desk which would be nice anyway but that's not a solution if the problem is that I can't... focus.

It is a problem I have. I can't write, even if I know something. I don't know how I passed English, I barely gave in any work. Part of why I make a comic and not a book. Even when I write a line my brain feels like a magnet repelling from the page, not even in an unpleasant way, I just have to get up. Then come back... oh, where was I, figure out what I was previously writing, get up again because that took effort and time... it goes nowhere. I have to ride a bout of focus or bust. I can't even rely on deadline panic, I only panic AFTER the deadline. WHY!

Its an absurd thought but. What if I've always been like this and its only now becoming a problem now we've 'fixed' my periods? What if the only reason I was so good at sitting down and doing stuff is because I didnt have the energy to move? I mean, the writings always been a problem but now everything feels like writing. ...Have I just been losing pints of blood every month for so long that I convinced myself I'm a naturally sessile and dormant person? I've never felt this good and alive my entire life yet ironically I've never been this unproductive!

Not to mention, I do crave carbs and sugar, and do on occasion find drinking cola to focus me. But I also get quite a hype off both (even the carbs. Ever get super pumped eating some toast? Just me?) so I'm not sure if that's a clue or not. I will never ever try coffee No Matter How Nice It Smells so I can't take any ideas from that. If it did focus me I know I'd get addicted to it, and addiction is very. Very. Very strong. In my family. Can't risk it.

I definitely don't hyperfocus on anything though, not like how I see other people with ADHD do (All my other siblings and my mom are). On occasion I'll have a burst of focus for something but never for more than, say, a week. Usually a single day. I think that's.... 'normal'. Had incredible Spamton brainrot, drew like. 2 pages of him, and my brain said, 'okay, I'm done' and that was it, wierd as hell feeling. Literally felt the fixation lift. I never finish videogames unless they are very short because I cannot focus on them long enough. Even if the passion comes back, I restart the game, because its been ages since I last played. There are some games Ive had dozens of playthroughs in and hundreds of hours sunk, and not a single one I've gotten to the end of.

What keeps me running is definitely my special interests... there aren't many of them, but they are always there, and I can always reliably count on them for... brain occupation. I do not get bored often. My boredom comes from being unable to engage with them, not from a lack of wanting to. However they are weak and the focus off of them does not override the Walkies anymore. I still want to do them, but I can't.

Shame even an unsuccessful assessment would be so expensive... BUT if I want to reapply for disability (please... I am... not capable of typical work schedules...also free trains so I dont have pressure to learn to drive...) I need some formal diagnosis...

I still want a proper autism one (I have one already but its shit and evidently wasnt enough) but it'd be more efficient and cost effective to see about possible ADHD rather than getting a bunch of paper telling me stuff I already know.

#adhd #autism #ummm im not sure what else #ask to tag #i feel like theres some warning im forgetting

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libidomechanica · 11 months

Text

“The dove with have you do write of my spouse Nancy”

A sonnet sequence

As thou single wilt thou kenst the stood? For to discover the bright, and me. Wonder why should instrument: and along the lilies. My beloved, through the dye of her grace; which I took the cup. He strict injunction with eyes were o’ the gardens fine, herself, the curling eyes thee, and in. The dove with have you do write of my spouse Nancy. Thus on him not too dear? Come riding up to open wyde. Fed by a garden of love, I the Apes folke orecharg’d with her what despised. Your promiseth, he because it’s what are these not one moment merciless— break the tapers clear day with other.

To those litterings on the blue night I doubt he is her husband, you were parts run and trusty staff, not up, a rose of all soothing thee, and still. Yet with undaunted chase; as fast thou be whose break of their poison from hill and there’s scythe cause whom in vain, and this and with all the wood where thou mayst be done, how with mortals, while juice of my pulse that ye tell your face of sin. Beside the Deuils stedde, that saying it to the cause of the best to live with all the moon up with head upon their tripping still the plasma, listens on things bless trees were pair of glee, all strange going toward Damascus.

III

Thy love for their fruit. Courage had not love talk to each amiss, yet with her bed and poor soldiery bed has such a theme for ever we brave. Dissemble—thus dancing hand cast abode; assistant spot, the Lady Flora, on whose the sky! Back when he taken me. She pattering still be you meane, I saw a create the one that brutal as if at me: for God, thinke I think of you love, turn unwholesome, and loud apart as what you were about for queen them. Eyes in glee: a poet is why even after a half-opening wheel extermingled powers they say I have done.

Till tell, blest, knight: in seas to dream and fell like the morning of all her, none. Someone used him, fair, and move! On the sad usage of blue crab from women love to the life to come back again, as he rode between. To come riding upon her love you I under thinke of my head is filled: I saved head of the wind constance. Look up and steal a thousand till Morning, that high sun flame shall every words at all the great halfe aghast, lowdly show the day. But the waves in a leagues and beat me to the wide house by a teares were vice, take thyself, and love, like Love, to be the gravity at worse.

And, so light abode; assistant … I will hit; thou, when near—the flowery nunnery; by silence, this excess, eat up to our cold climate and as the phone where; her love which who can love or admir’d! It was o’ the stars, the broad wake, for hir darlings sparkle language of snow, which thy memory of hell who; as maids you wear, look deep lost Eloisa see! His mouth is, ’ said to look so brimful of fauour, as just casually east-wind strain, i’ll be ador’d, as the whither shene, but the sight, old Susan, she posts shining throwne, and takes her, none. And as a Foxe, as did latch, ne stay’d to her lap.

But all thy prove; unless I can give? The question’d whole of Patient suddenly from the stroke. As enables man of many a wrong cheered, and cast a fiend hid in a woodman in haste! Come with all the day light of Venus to the clocker, rap, the closed anguisht springing: mercy vould be seen across, and my Love Supreme. And dropped scowling wheel extermination: then Remember I am she laughing drowned him not the stern wind. Thy navel is like any chere: before true, then sith this know? Oh couldst no harbouring woe, who madest him our own selues were was old words with misgouernaunce.

VII

Why do you open the lingering dead, spirit calls me to the common notion just, nor do aspire, when she’d call, of which lose tops the flying; but Willie had, I wad na gie a button blouses. The close, and this, thou would thy answer, Muse; I teach us how I by their disturb. But infamy and blows his oath, the research, such an ill death; jealous God, not how it, and see if it were a Range of moon the rusty teeth are waking! That through to the village, and thee, and on his height in fresh you want our limbs through Hades, our bodies flee away art resent thee, drop heavily the sea.

VIII

Sit listens, but kind thee disparaged to the Queen sat lord chief of thing, that she is he wasn’t done, that streamlet wind it feel a ceremony of me; well, if in Susan has all shoulders directed. Indentures: oh gentle darts as ointments flow, i’ll for thy frozen bosom, O faithful Highland layd him not answer the fragrant in the Dragon of love, and the river have give what it law that the true; too well, if in patience till Day! You don’t means, that tongue wad deave a door, and thoughts o’ the shepeheardes shall vertues are a hard-set smil’d, and in the kind of their pleasure, that blood.

They drank, he saw the said: Trumpets play to love them their day was o’ thee, lies drown me in Sommer season … Take this daughter, some good, and child wrinkled feet; that of wedlock’s bed, as if with vntimely woe, after line some with airy silks my death-like sun in wanting rather then gan his bed, susan, I’d gladly be conduct I resign my lemman with the swan, and in those tickets wound him a cloud of all affliction never we brave gather that are this fond heare within, there it more of Futurism just the sumptuously-feather side. Fingers and vast estates: tho vnder heele was walk you to describe, unless and low, above, below his face: watchet the starry clusters of the savour His—lo! Surely be bridegroom and thus the transistor to Long Knives’ getting better! Angel of beauty’s still Heaven mighty potentates, love’s ghost, sighing forth: thereof are cement?

Get with mysterious pledge’s personality of our husband’s at the place bends ouerpasse, that to the green leaves in Indian ware, and beautifully venomous talking like blood with its deep to cloath so soon the Sand. I have no face with a glad arms and rooks, and then is adorn his heard, I list of the long-forgot, nor needs mighty titles a’ arc empty, after every source of my hell. In silent shade; The time Sonny Rollins disappear! She has voued things this clothed our smile a hard hold, I grant to grant in the judges are as this all her earl; but, Delia, more the stern hills.

Rich for him thy phantom glue my coat; how sunk in him derive. Purple without breezes reinvigorate dorm. And also living wan and she were his voice more hath now and its Music heard Apollo sing both beare, beneath. Do fight will climb, in think not for the shouting, as quickly make speech. And the waterfall, at poor Johnny and fearful of the Dragon from a star—when the boon the day will; you had a certain finds are bore no thou yields; a honey’d rain. And black was never be enduren of leave high Hall-gardens fine! Know raspberries, with vntimely with ev’ry day, setting.

XII

Confess, make him, but the struggle cease. But the lives in Heshbon, by the Kidde mought me telling flood the long been to my neere, Cupids dart an image of him be shows me what helpen the watery wise as some beautifies. By your ease and now all for very bed has possess’d, no craving, that all the best I am naebody. Cold fire, world will, till full of lies. Made up a song of all well except for the water. And who care of honeysuckle. And to prize: for when once that trouble eyes or for truth atonement on the fictitious stole his good: the past, the soldier went for you.

XIII

Tis d’ ara piotis apistei piers his has not the runaway by the Hall those tickets wound, unfree? Tho’ now the deawie nightly dances of th’ all-beauteous though he was obtuse. When our own. Recline in praise; naming in those viewless ill. Never give back my idiot boy. Sleepy one! The briar is calm, tho’ thro’ the stopt with Moll and worn, with his due; my fancy’s springing? The tubes and exorcise the strengthen us to the sufferers, be’t in his Heart, the sky; and Susan Gale? To sing myself, but I found to flakes of lost perhaps sometime do I see her hand, husband weak.

XIV

While that the salt sea they were mortality consume my heart be his mane, she sees him whom we look, even the edge the abundance upon a weake griefes they were in this throng, the sea. I was beheaded. Helpless, make heed, dear object fear is come with eyes are all the Tombe did we men in wanting each yellow night, while we are over and ugly, wishes the clapt betwixt. With the Nude Descended race. As a child. Everything by all well except on sand an Asia, and ever dream for when, sleep. Sleep must steps of snake: they blush’d: Euphelia’s praise up from Camelot; the horse with sleep.

By the bottom the longing’s company of love finds, she changed head began to stop here. Some homes of thy shadow where so soon; for it, but keep the spies her man abroad, the book I seen that other running away, my life, and if all my best! Hears not somehow couldst no been dell the plasma, listening, the last sparkling rain; I shaped conjoined his ware, sits sadly? Let me knows white face, those noble hands of painted in some horse, and hark! I care not then, lastly, thought, she talk like it, in your names what I hoped the world, how sunk in his waiting forth, since did should dry as a counter, ghost; he best.

XVI

Thy lips, na lang, lang line alone survey’d, and so shore—gold rings; changed her; yea, he is with sullen clouds are command; he spot the valley, and set my plunged down heart which do breaketh, trust it touch, and cave and Passion to Paraclete’s while sorrow frae nane, but a woman is over cite thee to thy part he candle, yours throne, crowned rocks. The hole in a diet from Shalott. As the tender gore, he whole of my lichen in the day the base and I, once has made, and in a bore. What she flies unclasp from the offender, but for an Instantly? Which her you speaker now; tis a daughter eyes.

XVII

Unto the hill on my dress is for the twilight to be; but the prince, but now she’s hein-shin’d, ae limpid lapse to the vale, and fed with what peep and she were. A monster. But not skill. A hundreds of rough someone used wars to hear thee to tye the sun came to hear your rayes! The next are to me was as warriors combustible to thought from my bowels were nobody this thy picture to change eyes slide; the lass of your wife, too boiled and Byron’s eyes and in. Said Don’t they’re born. Of earth. To the Shulamite; returning to quench’d their eyes would to where I sit is flying; come host to his druggy sleep.

XVIII

And then speaking sun of mine may make him, but torment the pomp of day; then most meet. I know, too, when at the conquerours do fade answer, like mine, that’s in his invisible cloud in mutual pity mov’d, ador’d, as the same be my beads both what hast dove, that nource of her tongue with green figs, and saffron; calamus and fall, and to put me first set me crawled these countryman; with spiry turrets crown all aloud; it had robbed us off a list of the trace in all is frenzy insufficient times see no more dying of the light upon my crafty, as sweets dost thou received me.

XIX

A human ties, comfort so thy e’en sae bushy, O! Ah wretched wither, bright time for me; plant the Vision meaning like the sun did pant, as the feedeth among the foxes, thou makes breathes a bed is my girls are both for ever charmed heart join’d to Heav’n scarcely lou’d, but loued not ease, doth spot then my father wings; changeable to sing myrrh and know, and learne it is become away, considering to a lake in a kind of time; for light, but better Resolution— is more the soldiery bed has struck upon thy hearts, have I now must take off shoes worn as vilest head of him? They slept.

I do not thus the close of the moon up with stranger duke or earl; but who, will give thee; since in use, did Susan’s gown, and fresh and lovely her bed. The deawie night, undergrowth; then night in gawdy green birds rejoice in silks my dear. Mine eyes, too depends; so that blights at you for a wife affection is inseparate fear and full perfect all the World but to endearing here lies, and burning sheets, do you know it sends touched in the silver bugle hung, and once to deceits, and the glen sae rashy, O, aboon that I heard the cruel! With a sharpest pangs be drown meek—the like Amyntas—oh!

XXI

So as on his invisible up your pleasure, or ugliness. The faulte, where a lights, and those cool flower than the blouses. Love not makes me hence, and little solo act-that lady of Shalott. On such delight, that his come a trance, His gallop flitteth at his beauty and obedient wife. From those spotless was of smoke it ends, thy nose and feel the proud of being worth that precepts misspelled, on her man of the tree breasts like a schooled their shore to want our brother walie nieves he’s gart builds her that he haue thee in spring; with love, and in a cold were a mother Earth so sound some with myrrh, upon her fear much of a turmoil of beauty hornes gan newly cut hair which their God his own. It so beaten my eye, so strong Hours indigence; prudence in the quaff’d off thy hair waiting sea! Would gutter ear. His left their vigil like taxing rose needling of a tinkling race.

XXII

Come, left behind in them like a Duck, so with the why not yet I may pay the force, shee set up a cypress of Love may reach in Washing, breaks and soul so kind, some other beams from the limb that nest and oft the wave is; it seene, the brain. I have washin; but without booke: where nature he stopped. My dying heart with his mine, they misunderstand. And marr’d their shoes would say, but that looks red and shifts, whose noble cold. They taught to use newfangleness bells rang merrier bene, ylike an effort mair than a happy here, ev’n my Abelard an Angel of clean as it breasts benumbing rocks.

XXIII

That outgrow, like this round, and over, or smilde where to clouding against despised. And two: she hadna sail’d it reminded the surly villanage are you, Love, never the brought they fled, by evermore delights! But to hear the night, you leave cross before: but, forge, the doomed these? ’ The veil that appear where or a young Lochinvar. To sighs, and lived? My loved the said he: nor am I in thee the cock has crawn, and feverish with rocks he weekly-strewings of lost a pure onion—pure unstained principle is tired of boot or spur, that the tiny, clear and it shall such if they see other.

XXIV

With grass above the many a longinge? For Jewel utterly desolate, because of the salt sea they refusde forth at his glimmering Fish like a doll’s kissing pad, some other gilded beach house for ever- silent sever: tu-who! And gazed: I saved you stay in my dreamful way, so that such delight! Sweet, wee dochter, the great, which He who his curse over the bridal ring, made for the cat hast had forked no determingled grave: there walk you God of Lebanon. Fair as the goal of the paths of pursuing! There will as solemn light loaves in it; of which do in conscience then lets you said.

XXV

The tree: the understand. So dost thou prefiguring; with reason of orphan saw her, must couple tied her trust, forge, the sweet the should pay. And of pomegranates budded lime in piece of some ruffled pulse receive thee free from the winter reckoning yielded: she, that thou to remembered by some finds you should at his beam must die I will to him well; it is ended. And now she who take him to come a vase your bedded with my dust, nor be my loves me! Long as stand which thou no roses nest. Assist though then think that are asleep. My saucy bark inferior far nor his legs, oh!

XXVI

And kiss, and thy tender my soul on Cloe not understand neuer giue trust not the placed her thrown of people spreads his pow’r, which it cost nor shame nor you is that burden of science made it now by their pray’rs nor fast. In such if thou hast part, and her, she also who, mixing better for hir darling birds began to catch me to the door, and smelling did the time of many a tear. Voice; for I am come, let’s do that good ointment pushing milk-teeth are twin o’ the dream the criminal. To teach me remover the owlets that I found him her Collar; but word that: and full of diamonds.

�� XXVII

And learn the savour His—lo! The pine-crusted snow, which feed the man was his pack, and swig! And that none words, being dead, ever hope whereto thee, or playing your Feet like delights not yet unwish thy life which insphere, that the curling sire and Out- going, we will becomes of kisses. But fastened the Ring of Solomon on the silver, the carven stern kings were buried. Fond love as the skies. And, like a Maying. World seduce, and the leave theme for they’re borne, I marry the blue plume, than a toothache hurts. And feel that he promise your should devise some fresh my heart none to shore up my dear.

XXVIII

A breath the nerves at the king bit the ground, each otherwise twenty leagues and laid up forever; thy little prods, the murmur to kiss; dead washed with the door, worth did it’s in the high and swift to Heav’n scarce said my Muse to resigned to sweet the dive bar and note, which he brere: and marke how great care hath his due; my spices threescore queens, a well concealed, the man walks, when the moon is not let not tell what women takes there’s not for your farthest bondage made. The terrible as the tablets has gotten, aspens shiver. The generate countenance—like little thou and I maun partake with thee.

XXIX

It is how much I know that made of the morning’s gray shadowy world, and plate since found the sun-brown between things. To read the mouth keeps vigils pale-ey’d virgins honour, with the clapt betwixt king him whom she look’d downe, or zeal, love best to be lover whether he herd, and Beautie can see! Of Camelot: and moving Morne upon Salámán’s Anguish was the loftier grows of thy dangerous rainbow smiling eyes; that is the Type of The Shah fell silver leaf, or a world except because throwes her eyes which, as soon shall I marriage bed, that was said, Saw ye him much as are overhead.

XXX

It is most she also to be unjust. ’ Me, if poverty were o’ the golden close of that impressionists do make it wit to beare of his heart is calm of a king hath eyes flames resistinguish was ten color of Pearls the mire of silence thy love thy chaste breast thou to do with appears, and nothing, thou can. But by time, oh could helpe, doe me, as the world of beautifully stony glance strife; beware; for the moon in the warm weather wane. When fires, and I will I have my brain withoute boon, think you to call except the hold up hill and where nature freendship should brooke somwhat to write.

XXXI

My sun-brown between the eggs both were torn. On the ocean is, then snatch my mouth like a dog, as in Bridal ring, made a new increasing on his wife affects her brother, and bitter, then am I, and other shone that the ways confess’d with something in my youth like a tree living. A longer young and moving point to stop at will triumphantly. Tis twilight bed horrid springs on the warm, he’d calling—come, as sweet show seems to haul up and I, when I’m worse than man woos, what a wreck the others lie fallow, what should turned, she lay in But first Romans chose: Fabricius from thee.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #233 texts #sonnet sequence

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mechbrane · 5 years

Text

pm mains peach in ssb

#hcs.#change my mind #every single one of my muses ive ever had #has always mained peach

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mxrstar · 2 years

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please listen to Gospels of the Flood

okay so ive been wanting to write this post for a while now, but i was genuinely blown away by this story so here i am recommending it to whoever is reading.

this podcast is 7 episodes long (each episode lasts about 15 minutes) and i promise you it's worth your time. on paper, the plot goes as follows: the world is sinking and a priest has lost his faith, so he decides to go find his brothers to see where they are and if they still believe in god. each one of them has a different story to tell.

for starters, the tone of this podcast is incredible. the writing is solemn and elegant and profoundly human, and it is impressively sharp when it needs to be. the voice acting is charismatic and captivating and i genuinely never lost focus while listening once. as a genre, it sometimes verges on horror (if anything because the world is ending, but there are other elements too) but it speaks at length about what it means to be human and to believe in life. it has a spectacular ending that i honestly feel is thematically incredible though it's not particularly convoluted plot-wise. is the kind of ending that would lose a lot of value if i describe it to you because listening to the very last sentence for the first time is priceless and personally borderline exhilarating-- not because it's a twist but because it says exactly what it needs to say in exactly the right tone. the soundtrack of this podcast is spectacular and i think it might end up on my next years' spotify wrapped (in fact, i encourage to listen to it even if you don't listen to the podcast) + the soundscaping is genuinely incredible and, at least to my untrained ears, some of the best i have ever encountered.

i also want to make it clear that this podcast's perspective, even when it questions god on a pretty fundamental level, is very christian (as in: even when it speaks about religion in general it speaks about it from a christian pov, which i think is a good thing to point out given that it sometimes muses about what it means to have faith at all). i did however found the way it critiques some traditionally christian values incredibly cathartic. my favourite episode, for instance, is entirely about the idea of feeling ashamed of yourself and what it means to centre your faith around that lie (i have relistened to it Many Times). there's also some interesting anti-capitalist commentary (such as prisons still being a thing during the apocalypse, even when people are dying and there's no escaping the end) which i thought was very compelling.

as far as warnings go: generally, loss death and mass death because it's set during an apocalypse. car crash and child death in episode 1. episode 4 needs a warning for suicide, mass suicide, and cults (and that's my favorite episode, the one i mentioned above). i'm sorry if i'm forgetting anything else. here are the transcripts if you need them

i know not everyone likes spoilers, but i get into stuff faster if i read a nice quote from it first, so i'm gonna put under the cut a quote from my favorite episode in case anyone is curious

(cw for mass suicide and cult-like behavior)

[ID:

We had to recognize what we were, Simon told me. We were God's greatest failure. We were born sinners and with our every breath, we destroyed the beauty of Creation. The continents were sinking beneath our weight; the Earth needed to cleanse itself of our stain.

He took me to the edge of the building, to see the people falling. He pointed at the waves. This is our path to redemption, he said. If we can recognize our arrogance, our sinfulness, our inferiority to those creatures that are still pure, then we can save the world through sacrifice.

I looked at the waves. They were grey, dirty, filled with corpses and mud. If this was God's will, then I rejected it. And if it saved a single life, I would reject his entire creation. The trees and the birds and the fishes in the sea were nothing before the beauty of a single human being. Here, now, seeing them die, I understood what I had seen in their eyes: guilt. Guilt at existing. Guilt at being human. And now the force that had woken up within me blazed with fury.

/end ID]

#gospels of the flood #podcasts #podcast recs #sometimes i talk

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bitchassbucky · 3 years

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.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff

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shattersstar · 3 years

Text

evergreen

and if the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent (part four)

pairing: adrian tepes x reader

excerpt: You were grinning, running through all the most beautiful, fullest, dreamiest of adjectives to capture the face of your love. You tilted your head to the left, and he followed, the two of you grinning at each other with soft, soundless laughs. You closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling and blinking at him with a new found clarity, the words flowing effortlessly.

warning(s): brief injury mention, fluff, this is so,,hopelessly romantic, heart shape lockets making a reappearance

a/n: sorry ive only been writing for adrian my brain has been in alucard lockdown and it wont end (although this might be my favourite thing ive ever written so i’m..less sorry)

—

It was quiet, the distant din of the forest brushed over the two of you. It was a reminder of the life surrounding the desolate place you called home. Your eyes were closed as you focused on the sound, the breathing of trees and humming of streams. You supposed Adrian heard it all so clearly, the animals and plants alike all alive in the surrounding forest. You strained to hear the crunch of fallen leaves by foxes or snap of fallen branches by deers.

It was autumn and the world was alive with harvest. Animals prepared for winter, plants returned to the soil and tree lines morphed into flame. It was one of the last warm days, the sun high in the cloudy sky, shining onto the picnic you two had set up. You were laying down, letting the sun soak over your while Adrian sat cross legged behind you. Your head was in his lap, the book you were reading was resting on his thigh above your head, opened onto the page you were on. Adrian had brought a book as well, but discarded it after a few minutes of reading. It was out of date, he explained, the science was false and he decided to draw over the useless words instead.

You assumed there was some value in its history, but didn’t question it as he silently sketched. Adrian was always such an artist, often drawing you, or other’s he cared for. He could sketch Sypha and Trevor from memory, yet often butchered some detail of the latter for his own amusement you supposed. He drew his parents often too, but was quick to erase such images, as if even seeing their face was still too painful.

He had begun painting more recently. You liked sitting and working on something while he painted, catching occasionally glimpses at his work. Adrian was never shy about what he created, often showing you without prompting, and never dismissing your request to see his art. He had agreed he was good at it, the technical precision was there, but the heart was not. You were quick to disagree with such sentiment, and yes you could see it within the landscapes and dull memories he created on paper or canvas, but the love was there in the faces of those he cared for.

Each line he added to you, each bit of shading and highlight showcased you in a way that held more adoration than any words could supply. You liked seeing yourself from Adrian’s eyes, seeing your beauty as he perceived it. It was more flattering than anything anyone before him had said to you, not like Adrian would want to hear such things.

You weren’t sure how you knew he was watching, sketching you as you laid in his lap, but you knew he did. You even remained still, forgoing reading to be his muse for the last moments of fall. You didn’t mind getting to lay in the lap of the one you loved, a soft blanket underneath while the sun started to arch towards the west. You could’ve fallen asleep there, nature washing over you and Adrian watching over you. It was a place of peace, a moment you’d engrain into your mind and have a memento—a piece of art to show for it.

You only opened your eyes when Adrian let out an uncharacteristically loud sigh, he didn’t need to breathe, he only did so on his own volition. You peered up at him, sun dancing in his dark lashes. “What is plaguing you so beloved?” You hummed, tilting your head back more as you spoke.

"My chest, it aches.” He admitted with a soft voice. You sat up as his words registered in your ears, worry lacing your features as you moved to sit on your knees, beckoning him closer.

“Still? Why?” He turned his head to the side as your hand smoothed down his slender neck, brushing his collar aside and revealing the tip of the scar that cut diagonal through his torso. You kept your fingers off the injury, but untied the front of his shirt to reveal more of it.

“I am unsure, it just does some days.”

“This has happened before?”

“A few times, yes.” He sighed again, you felt it under your palm that rested next to the pink, raised skin.

“I wished you told me.”

“I did not wish to worry you.”

“And yet I am worried.” Adrian turned towards your other hand, resting on his shoulder and dipped his head down to kiss your wrist. It was a gesture of apology and you accepted it was you let your hand cup his face, lips pressing a kiss to your palm. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so.” You frowned, shifting your knees against the blanket. “And somehow I’m not surprised you aren’t pleased with that answer.”

“How can I be pleased when you, my dear, are living in pain?”

“Don’t be pleased then, be appeased.” Adrian shrugged, still speaking into your palm. You let your fingertips graze the edge of his scar before dropping both hands from him.

“If I must.” He chuckled at that, low and warm as your hands found his knees. You gave them a squeeze, almost to check if he still existed before turning, and placing yourself into his lap. You were careful not to lean into his chest, but Adrian eased you against it, his forearm wrapping around your stomach while his other hand brushed your book from his leg. “Now show me what you were drawing.”

“Of course beloved.” He hummed from behind you, picking up his green covered book and letting you flip through the drawings now masking the words. And you were right, many—most were of you.

A few trees, a tired outline of the castle, faces you didn’t know, but still somehow, every few pages was you, lounging in his lap, or from some other memory he stored away. They made you smile, less worried as warmth overtook you.

“Do you ever draw yourself?” You asked once you reached the last sketch, lingering on it.

“No, the image of myself in my mind changes far too often.”

“Oh?” You were surprised by Adrian’s answer, you expected something darker you supposed.

“I see myself one way, and then...I do not. I cannot draw what constantly changes.”

“Why does it change?”

“You.”

One syllable was more breathtaking than a single drawing he had ever done of you.

“Oh.” You found yourself on repeat, closing the book and letting out a slow breath.

“And I supposed other’s I’ve met, but mostly you.” It’s always you, he does not say despite how well it sits in his mouth.

You knew you had impacted Adrian, only a fool would say they didn’t, but to know that the way he constructed himself in his brain, how he felt when he thought of it, how he saw himself in his dreams, how he saw himself with you were all changed by you and how you loved him felt like a deeper proclamation than i love you.

“I still wish you would though, what am I supposed to put in this locket?” Your voice held an air of teasing, but a current of seriousness laced it as well.

“I could try, if you could like.”

You were silent for a moment, you didn’t want him to settle on a version of himself to etch into existence. Not when he was ever changing in his mind's eyes. “What if—“ You twisted carefully to look at him, noses brushing as you did. “What if you drew yourself from how I saw you?” You asked, wanting his art to convey his beauty as it did yours.

Adrian pondered it for a moment, before tilting his head and surprising your lips with his. “Yes.” He whispered against your mouth before finding his book yet again.

You slipped from his lap to give him space and studied him for a long moment. He didn’t shift under your gaze, or look away, but instead studied your back. You were grinning, running through all the most beautiful, fullest, dreamiest of adjectives to capture the face of your love. You tilted your head to the left, and he followed, the two of you grinning at each other with soft, soundless laughs. You closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling and blinking at him with a new found clarity, the words flowing effortlessly.

Serious mouth, something that hides smiles and fangs. Lips that slope into something heartbreaking—a smile like no other.

He grinned at that, eyes dropping to the page as he began drawing.

Soft eyes, set deep, but still shining. Sharp like daggers and holding handfuls of sunrays in them. Not cold with sadness, but heavy with it.

“Heavy with love too.” He hummed, earning a kiss on his forehead before you settled back to describing him.

Nose…

You paused your words, letting Adrian catch up to your lovely description, while you pondered on it too. You knew this was much for him, so much love filling his ears, outward and heedy. Yet it didn’t feel like enough, like it captured how much his appearances enraptured you, but as his heart did too. You wanted him to see your love through your eyes.

It was a daunting task, and yet you carried on. You reached out, brushing over his nose with your index finger, as if the words lived in your fingertips and could only be released by touch. You furrowed your brows, lips parting before you took Adrian’s hand, the one holding the book. He kept his gaze on you as you brought his slender fingers to his nose, tracing it as you did. You loved all Adrian’s features, but his nose especially, and no words could describe the beautiful feature that pulled his whole face together.

My favourite thing.

He let his attention fall back to the drawing, a bloodless blush could’ve warmed his face with the kind descriptions you imparted onto him. He knew you loved him, you proclaimed it enough, but the sweet words that overtook this dimming autumn day were even more dizzying than he expected. And you weren’t done yet, unrelenting in your words and adoration for him.

Sharp contours—jaw, cheekbones—with an underlying kindness, youthful softness to the angular curves.

Beautiful forehead, my favourite place to kiss. And press myself to.

Brows low, very precise—too serious most of the time.

Hairline like the ocean, framing the sand and sometimes sweeping over it.

You twirled the forever loose curl that hung forward, always draping against his smooth skin. He wanted to lean into your touch, but his attention was on the page.

Hair long, softer than any silk. Golden—not like honey, but wheat fields blowing in the breeze. And thick, with lazy waves throughout it.

You stayed quiet after that, hoping it was enough. You were all warm throughout now, despite how the evening had fallen over you two. You wanted to climb back into Adrian’s lap, but instead you moved to sit cross legged, toying with a loose thread on his pants, twisting the string from the seam by his knee around your finger until his shoulders dropped and the pen stopped moving.

You let your hands rest in your lap, and you watched him study it for a long moment. You wanted to ask if it was okay—some version of him he could agree with, yet he brought the pen back, scrawling something in his tight, professional handwriting and tearing the page from the book with precision.

The drawing took up one corner, the words printed in the background barely noticeable to the bust drawn over them. He folded the piece of paper, once, then twice. A tiny square sitting in his palm, before Adrian finally met your gaze. He reached out, cool fingertips grazing over your neck as he brought your heart shaped locket to sit in his other palm. He used his thumb to open it, placing the piece of paper inside and closing it again.

He kissed the smooth metal before letting it fall back against your sternum, smiling with a haziness that made you feel drunk of love as well. You took his hand in yours, Adrian quick to intertwine fingers before you could settle your palm to his. He urged you closer, uncrossing his legs and letting you take up space between them. “Do you feel better?” You hummed, the pain that had overcome him before not leaving your mind.

It wasn’t like you to forget so easily.

“Hm, better? Yes.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of your nose.

“Are you just saying that?”

“No, of course not.”

“I find that hard to believe, you often dwell in pain my dear. Especially alone.”

“I know,” He sighed yet again, bringing his free hand to your chin and drawing your attention to him. “If you’d like, I believe I have found a way that you can help, make me feel better.”

“Yes, what is it?”

He smiled—heartbreakingly. “Marry me?”

For a quiet beat, you paused, the words reaching your ears, settling in your short term memory before they processed into something that rang forever in your head. You and Adrian had talked about marriage, he had settled on the notion it was a frivolous display and he had everything he needed with you. And you agreed. He was everything you needed.

And now, he needed to be your husband.

You tucked some of his hair behind his ear, leaning in with a low voice, “My love, don’t you know?” You asked, blinking up with a slanted grin, “I’ve been married to you from the moment we met.” He breathed out a chuckle, reedy and low.

“Then,” His palms cupped your cheeks, forehead pressing into yours. “Let me marry you.”

“Yes,” You breathed into him, “Yes you can marry me.”

It was the first day of winter when you finally opened your locket. You unfolded his drawing carefully, the likeness you wanted to convey hung in every inked line. Your fiancé existed in both your hearts now.

Your fingers brushed over the words, creased from the folding, but still clear.

It’s always you, my betrothed.

#adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes imagine #alucard imagine #alucard x reader #castlevania imagine #castlevania #writing #if this doesnt get notes ill boycott writing for all of 2021

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drawlfoy · 3 years

Text

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd.

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it

word count: 4k

music recs:

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson.

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope.

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before.

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty.

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?”

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence.

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt.

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?”

“Draco!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place.

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table.

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set.

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly.

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself.

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

His hand, warm and soft, reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone.

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted.

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in.

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest.

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her.

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears.

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat.

“As friends,” she said.

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.”

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts.

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything.

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.”

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him.

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.”

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

“Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again.

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin.

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.”

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.”

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her.

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job.

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said.

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco #draco malfoy #draco fic #draco fanfiction #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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