#i have absolutely NO idea where this plot is going and its driving me insane its so good

[ectogeo-rebubbles]

I have kind of a niche Garashir fic idea I want to write but I’ve never posted anything publicly before, so I am nervous. But I can’t seem to get over the idea? You’re one of my favorite fic writers, any advice? 💕🥺

Ooooh, you gotta try to write it!!! I always love to indulge my new ideas that are driving me insane as soon as I can hehe (because part of writing often has to be done after the initial idea no longer excites you quite the same way).

I like that you said it’s a niche idea, too! I do enjoy most of the common fanon tropes and worldbuilding, but it’s always so refreshing when people add something brand new to the Garashir body of literature. And the nicher and stranger the better, in my opinion!! One thing about writing something niche is that maybe it won’t get the same amount of attention as quickly as something that has broader appeal, HOWEVER... I can tell you from experience that when your niche stuff does find its audience (which may take patience and persistence) that audience will likely go absolutely WILD for it. And I always find that very rewarding <3

Is the reason you haven't started yet because you don't quite know how to start? If that's the case, I would recommend writing an outline first. I even sometimes will outline really short oneshots lol, not because I think I really need to, but because that way i at least have a good record of my idea and ALSO because sometimes I can trick myself into just starting to write by taking notes on in outline format until I get to the part I'm REALLY excited about, at which point I realize I'm just writing full sentences instead of notes and I just let it flow from there and go back to fix the beginning later. XD You could also just try to summarize the plot for a friend, that often reveals to me where any structural issues are tripping me up, and identifies what I need to think about more before I set words down on the page.

Idk if you haven't written before or if you just haven't posted any of it, but I want you to know that a few years ago, when I was easing myself back into writing, I worked on writing like 3 or 4 different garashir fic ideas privately before I actually figured out which idea I wanted to write all the way to the end and actually post. Most of those first wips never got posted (and my wip graveyard is still massive and always growing lol) and that's for the best bc I either got bored of the idea or could not yet achieve the story in the way I wanted to. Which is NOT to tell you that this is inevitable or that you should let your inner editor shut you down, but I just want you to know that it's perfectly okay and normal to, like, have to noodle around a bit before you've written something you're happy with.

Speaking of your inner editor, you gotta tune them out while writing a first draft. Don't even worry if the sentence makes sense, just get the words out, and then get the next words out, and then the next... If there is something stopping you from writing the next sentence (a name you need to make up, or something you need to research, or uncertainty about what a character would be doing, or even if you are just blanking on a word) and you are trying to maintain a flow of writing, then write a note for yourself (e.g, "[insert title of a Cardassian novel here]" or "[Julian makes some kind of expression. Surprise? Anger? idk]" or "[synonym for sinister, bc I've used sinister three times this fic already]") and then MOVE ON. You can go back in and fill in those blanks later.

Also, I really really really really like the writing advice of thinking of your first draft as your worst draft or stupidest draft. It's so true and it helps take the pressure off. One related amazing thing about writing star trek fanfic is that if ever you begin to doubt yourself, you can just fondly think about a beloved episode of Star Trek where something very silly or buckwild happens in a very contrived way, and then remind yourself that people LOVE that episode anyway. This is a genuine way that I have reminded myself not to be so harsh on my own writing lmao.

I really working with beta readers, but I know that's not something everyone enjoys and it's def not required. Still, a beta reader can give feedback on your writing to make it clearer, and they'll likely become invested in your fic and will cheer you on, and if it’s longer than a oneshot you can have someone to talk it through with during the writing process. But it might be hard to find someone you work well with and everyone’s beta reading style is a lil different, so I recommend always being very clear about what kind of feedback you want from them (grammar/typos, plot structure, clarity, brainstorming ideas for how to fix this plothole, does this one specific line of dialogue work, etc! whatever aspects you are uncertain about and want help with for that specific fic). And you should know that it’s okay to not take someone's recommendations too, it’s ultimately your fic, so anyone giving you feedback should just be trying to help you achieve your own vision. Still, even in those cases where you don't go along exactly with their idea for what to change, knowing what parts confused them can help you figure out how to get your vision across more clearly.

If you think concrit might actually be demotivational and intimidating (totally get that, back in high school I actually solicited concrit on my fics publicly, as was the custom back then, and received some critiques from some truly well-meaning friends, and the experience STILL rattled me so bad that it turned me off writing for awhile), or if the process of finding someone to beta read sounds overwhelming, I’d recommend that you instead just find a trusted friend who is willing to read over the completed draft, with the understanding that they must simply give you a sanity check and then tell you yep that’s good! Cannot stress enough the power of encouragement and support and having someone hype you up. ^_^

If you are too nervous to post it under your own name, you can post it to the Anonymous collection on ao3. This is a reversible process, so if you want to reattach your username to your fic later then you can!

Anyway, feel free to send follow up questions about any of this or let me know if there's an aspect of writing I didn't mention that is what you're actually stuck on. I hope this helps and good luck and HAVE FUN! Have fun is actually the most important writing advice haha.

(P.S., anon, if you want me to beta read a draft of a oneshot or at least look over a chapter or two if it's multichapter, I am down to do so, just DM me. If not that's fine too, I'm just so so flattered that you reached out to me and I want to encourage you in any way I can! <3)

#asks

[princess-of-the-corner]

AU Idea

So, I was thinking, and the one MHA/BNHA AU I keep seeing is Izuku staying Quirkless and not getting in to UA which … bothers me? Not the premise necessarily, and not even all of them. Like, deciding to to go the Batman route, or becoming an amazing Support guy, those don’t bother me as much. Its more the surprisingly large number I’ve read where it’s portrayed as “oh, Izuku would try out and not get into the Hero Course, so gives up and becomes an office worker” and like … I admit I’m new to the fandom, but isn’t Izuku one of those Shonen protagonists that has the defining character trait of “never giving up, even when you should”?

and I’m not talking about fics where they play up the prejudice against Quirkless people to explain him not getting in. If that’s the angle you’re going for and you’re telling a good story with it, kudos. But I … kind of get the feeling that UA’s principal wouldn’t really care? About Quirk/less? Like, I sort of get the feeling he’d research Izuku and be like “Oh, this’ll be hilarious”. But most stories in the vein of “Izuku doesn’t get in”, and then we have a story about Izuku running a blog or as an accountant, end up sounding like either they don’t think Izuku could be a hero without a Quirk, or like Izuku didn’t have the drive to be a hero, which … is not the feeling I’m getting from his character?

Like, Izuku trying out and not getting into the Hero Course on the first try Quirkless, sure, fine, that I’ll believe. Especially because the tryouts are kind stacked in the favour of the more combat oriented Quirks, so even if he did have a Quirk, depending on what it was, the test might screw him over. But trying out and giving up immediately? Just because he wouldn’t get into the Hero Course? Like, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the test specifically engineered for the Hero Course kids? Like, Shinsou tries out aiming for the Hero Course and gets screwed because his Quirk isn’t as in your face, but he still gets into the school, right? He’s Gen ed, or something until the Sports Festival, when he has a better chance of displaying his abilities. You’re telling me that Izuku - analyst, insanely clever, reckless and determined - either failed the entrance exam badly enough not to get in at all, or decided that because it wasn’t the Hero Course, he wasn’t even going to try? Like, not even as Support or whatever?

Again, I’m fairly new to the fandom but it feels weird? Like, is It just me?

I think the only fic I saw of the “Izuku Doesn’t Get In” variety that I thought was decent without his character feeling weird was one where Izuku did try out and did get in, but his mom freaked out and basically forbade him from going? Like, not one of those where she becomes an abusive monster, but more supremely overprotective? Like, that was a great plot point, but they kind of didn’t do much with it. We get the feeling that their relationship is strained, and Izuku mentions not talking to his mom much, but like … it doesn’t really get explored? Granted the fic was mostly a Izuku/Shouto fic, where it was less about plot and more about them falling into bed together but it had some neat plot elements and … 

Honestly, I don’t know where I’m going with this. Just trying to get a feel for a new character by playing the “What If” Game and uncertain how “canonically” certain things would play out.

-

Oh yeah no absolutely!

Izuku is a stubborn little shit who will not give up.

Like. Within my Vigilante!AU, the reason he doesn’t go to UA isn’t giving up. He actually passes the Entrance Exam! but while the UA staff would be fine with teaching him, the Commission doesn’t really want a Quirkless Hero. After all, so much of Heroes images are in how Amazing their Quirks are and how they’re so much better than normal people and a Good Quirk = Good Hero. 

They wouldn’t want ‘just some guy’ being shown as on par with them. And if they let Izuku into UA at all, even in Gen Ed, then there’s a chance for him to enter the Sports Festival and be broadcast to the world as ‘on par’. Or even for just after-class sparring sessions where sure it’s not as widespread but people will See Him.

But yeah like. If I did a side-AU where Izuku stayed ‘Quirkless’ but got into the Gen Ed course, he’d 100% enter the Sports Festival! And considering how the event went in Canon, he didn’t actually use his Quirk until the 1v1 battles! So he’d get a lot of attention for making it to the third round without a Quirk!

It’d be a question of how well he’d do in the 1v1 battles though. His first battle is against Shinso who does have a Quirk that’s very hard to beat once he can get it going. Maybe I could have Izuku already befriend Shinso so he knows the limitations of Shinso’s Quirk and can’t be baited into responding. The fight against Shoto would probably go badly for him, but also who knows what Shoto’s mindset would be re: his own fuckery since he likely didn’t traumadump to Izuku before the fight.

#submission

[volatilechemicalz]

elaborating on my bad end theater blakeworth au more because its driving me insane a little bit . spoilers for both bad end theater [kinda?? barely] and vtsom . also long [like seriously I was not expecting 2 write this much about it] ft. my writing of questionable quality

So victor n vincent's incidents happen on the same day here for plot convenience , I haven't really figured it out yet so . shrugs . anyway victor gets taken somewhere 2 get his prosthetics n vincent goes 2 the basement n gets turned into a cyborg like usual but the thing is vincent is gone for a whileee . Like half a year ish . n victor has no idea where the hell he is so after staying at the mansion n waiting 4 vincent 2 come back 4 a while he goes out to look for him because he doesn't believe [or doesn't want 2 believe] that vincent is dead [he's right not 2] . so he doesn't come back for a bit . in that time vincent comes back to the mansion n has a huge what the fuck moment because he has no idea how long he was gone since there wasn't a calendar or anything in the basement obviously so he was expecting victor 2 be there so now its his turn to freak out . but he doesn't wait at all n immediately leaves to try n find him since he assumed something happened . oh also neither of them know about eachother's incidents .

Anyway both of them r panicking n looking 4 eachother all the time with no luck @ all . vincent is still plotting his revenge against myers but he knows he needs some1 2 help him [cough cough victor] 2 fully carry out his plans . So that's kinda put on pause temporarily . anyway theater time :]

I haven't fully figured out why vincent makes the theater yet because it doesn't fully make sense but it's like . partly because its something 2 do so he doesn't fucking lose it [escapism] partly because he's a cyborg n needs human flesh 2 survive n this would lure people in [also possibly victor might come here but that's a maybe 2 him] n partly because he was probably a theater kid you can't convince me otherwise . Anyway the stories play out a little differently 2 be metaphors 4 what happened @ myers but the characters n stuff still have the same roles n every story still has a bad ending . He doesn't wanna get recognized because his involvement in the g4 cyborg incident is all he would hear about n he did this to escape not be reminded of all that shit . So he goes by Tragedy n wears a mask to conceal his face [hey wow just like tragedy in bad end theater . see what I did there]

Eventually victor goes to the theater n as soon as vincent starts speaking he recognizes his voice but isn't sure + this guy doesn't really act like vincent [stage personality] so he'll wait n see . Also I'm aware that vincent can't lie to victor 4 shit but the mask also conveniently covers any sort of telling facial expression . Anyway at first vincent wants 2 just go out n say that it's him n all that but also he's afraid how victor will react to what happened 2 him n the things hes done 2 sustain himself if he finds out . Also he's surprised at seeing that victor has robotic arms/eyes now since he still doesn't know what happened 2 him in the time gap . He wants 2 question him soooo bad but he'll wait . Mostly because if he questions victor that means he'll be questioned in return n that is the absolute last thing he wants .

Everything would play out as it does in bad end theater [going through all the different storylines n fighting Tradgey] except when the mask breaks some of vincent's cyborg parts[??] are visible since as seen in chapter 4 it looks like his body deteriorates pretty easily under stress n it's painfully obvious what he is now . But he's still him , so all of that is basically ignored when victor realizes that he was right and this is vincent and holy fuck he is alive n right here in front of me ‼️ so uh . reunion yayyyy . Questions come later which isn't fun for either of them but it doesn't matter because oh my god they're together again n alive . anyway reunion stuff .

They hug . a lot . for wayyy too long . but when it's been over a year since you've seen the best person in your entire life you're gonna b a little clingy . Not much is different about their relationship after all of this they just do not want 2 leave eachother alone 4 a while because . well . widely gestures to The Everything . After that they just sit in the empty seats [absolutely nobody else is there] n talk . it's pretty casual 4 now , neither of them r in the mood 4 anything else . Vincent explains that he's closing the theater down after this . he doesn't want it anymore n people don't come here anyway so it would b a waste . He wants everything 2 go back 2 how it was before . victor suggests that they go home n vincent says they should . They probably kiss r whatever @ some point as a treat its been 2 long . Also sometime later they have a conversation about being stuck in the past n everything since victor obviously noticed the glaringly obvious parallels between their experiences n the characters' . vincent explains that he had this whole revenge thing planned out but maybe this is okay [4 now @ least] . Holy fuck pixle writes a happy ending it's a miracle [it's more bittersweet but . shhhshush]

Hi if you somehow read all of this congrats . here's some extra little details

-the parallels between vincent n tragedy r the main inspiration 4 this since they're both hyperfocused on the past n their partner is more focused on moving on/the future it makes me ill

-the theater isn't around for long, maybe like a month or two ?? A little more ??? This timeline is really fucked. shrugs

-also nobody really comes there, only a few once in a while n half the time vince has 2 kill them anyway because yk . the whole eating flesh thing . so he doesn't have many regulars . not that he really cares about this much anyways . also he wonders what victor would think of it allll the time .

-the cats r fine b4 any1 asks victor took them with him n before then they probably have automatic feeders n water stuff [also vincent is extremely happy 2 see them again]

-vincent is extra bitter towards myers because of the whole separation thing

-night terrors after they get back . Soooo many 4 both of them it's not fun

-draco still exists because vincent already kind of started his plans with winston but he didn't have any memories 2 use n didn't want 2 use winston's since he doesn't really know what's in there so eventually he convinces victor 2 lend some because its kind of awkward 2 have a lifeless cyborg/clone just lying around + I just wanted him 2 be here because he's 1 of my favorites . sue me [don't . I do not have money]

-The plot of vtsom doesn't happen after this because vincent decides that it isn't worth it 2 go after myers n he's tired of all this shit n he has victor again so that's all that matters + victor convinces him not 2 during their conversation when leaving the theater . that doesn't mean he won't murder a few of the core members though teehee . I cannot write anything w/o murder sorry its a condition <3

-when albert calls vincent in one of the endings in twdak [don't remember the number but yk the 1 .] he doesn't answer because he's not there but eventually he calls back after a bit because why not n they talk . not entirely important just something i thought about . also they still hate eachother obviously nothing has changed about that .

-not a detail but I do plan 2 make a playlist 4 this eventually , if/when I do I'll just link it here or post it separately idk . [update I did that check reblogs if you want it] also I do have a tragedy vince somewhere that i need 2 post . victor looks basically the same I think idk what I would change

-also I'm calling this cyborg theater for brevity not sure if I'll keep that name or not but we'll see

#noodle talks #writing #i mean this counts i think #vtsom #vincent the secret of myers #vincent edgeworth #victor blake #blakeworth #eughrghahgh anyway hope you like this . it took way 2 long 2 write out n sat in my drafts 4 a bit 2 rot #this was supposed 2 b a short little furthering of the story btw . it was not that it turns out #uh #twdak #therapy with dr albert krueger #albert krueger #<- this guy has 2 many tags n im not doing them all im sleepy . all you get #do i even tag bad end theater . idk #they make me ill n upset but its also entirely my fault #ill draw stuff 4 this eventually im just the worlds sleepiest guy rn #im going 2 bed after i post this lol #cyborg theater #🔋 #ok anyway *passes out* #this miiiight be ooc or not make sense but i don't really give a fuck i may be cringe but i am free #if you read all of this congrats holy shit #putting this under my art tag since it still counts #art

[9haharharley1]

Hi! Your blog is amazing, and so is your writing! I’m a brand new newbie to the Rise of Guardians / Blackice fandom, and I’m OBSESSED 😂 anyways, maybe you could help a newbie out? What are the best fics to read? The best blogs to follow? Sorry if this is a lot, I just absolutely adore this fandom/ship!

Aw, thank you! Welcome to our little slice of fandom! Please enjoy your stay!

For blogs, definitely check out Gilly and Bunnimew's blogs, they have some lovely work both in art and fic! Here are some authors on AO3 you should definitely comb through:

Gilly

LinesAndColors

XinriaRouge

ChibisUnleased

KamuiWithFangs

not_poignant

And since you asked and I haven't had the opportunity to gush about my favorite fics, here they are:

How to Love Fear - This is it. This is the fic that dragged me kicking and screaming into this fandom. I love it so much and have read it so many times. Jack is given a mission by MiM to go into Pitch's lair to offer reform, but Pitch is not having it. Jack, now stuck in the dark with the Boogieman has to convince back into the light or take his place as the new Nightmare King. All the while, memories of a life he doesn't remember start to resurface and Pitch has something to do with it. Its a WIP, but definitely worth the read!

Black Ice - If How to Love Fear dragged me in, this one is what convinced me to stay. Jack finds Pitch one Halloween night and agrees to help him find his true center and a new way to use fear. What follows is a slow-burn, sci-fi fantasy epic that I finished in less than three days because it was so compelling! Complete.

Baddest Boy of Them All - A blackice Megamind AU where Pitch comes to Earth as a baby is not raised by the best of standards, ultimately deciding that if they're gonna treat him like a bad guy, he might as well be the bad guy. Jack becomes his favorite hostage. WIP, but updated regularly.

Rocks Give Way to Rain - The slowest of slow burns and mysteries and I am dying to see it's completion! It's long, it's epic, Jack has a much shadier past than we've been led to believe, and there's something up with Pitch and his shadows and Jack is determined to help out. WIP, absolutely a must-read.

Evil Boyfriends - If dark!Jack is your thing, this is the series for you! Pitch finds Jack long before the Guardians get him and Jack sticks around, compounding in a dangerously co-dependent relationship. Not what I would actually consider dark!Jack, but he's definitely not on the side of the Guardians. Complete.

Finding a Home for the Holidays - Some Doublemint Oreo goodness, wherein Jack finally has people to spend the holidays with. Fluff, smut, and angst all in one place! Complete.

Hold My Tea and Watch This and Why is the Tea Always Gone - An epic romp of Pitch and Jack discovering how much they need each other while a dark force awakens to threaten the world. Complete.

Shattered Pieces - Gilly's WIP that is currently driving me insane with heartbreak! Twenty years after the events of the movie, Jack is struggling to open up to his friends. When Jamie loses his belief, Jack is left struggling to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart, but Pitch is there to help. Updated regularly.

In Another Time - You want angst? You want tragedy? You want your heart ripped out and stomped on the floor? Then do I have a story for you! In the ongoing war against the Dream Pirates, Fearlings, and Nightmare Men, General Kozmotis Pitchiner already has enough on his plate without dealing with a trouble-making Jackson Overland. Perhaps, it would have been better to kick him out when he had the chance, but growing attached to young Private instead seemed so much more desirable at the time. Complete.

Strange Magic - Strange Magic AU wherein Prince Jack overhears a plot to use a love potion on the Dark Forest King Pitch and decides that that's a bad idea. The fastest of burns and I am here for every second of it! Complete.

I know I'm missing a bunch, but this is what I got right now just skimming through my bookmarks. There's so much more on my read later list, but this is a good start if you're looking for multi-chapter fics! Reader beware though, all of these feature smut at some point.

#blackice #rotg #jack frost #pitch black #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #harley talks #harley answers

[detectivechandler]

🔥🔥🔥🔥 rant about alllll of the things!

the first thing that has been on my mind a lot lately is the way people (both in the rpc and just in general fandoms) will go OUT OF THEIR WAYYYYY to villainize any female character that gets in the way of their perceived gay ships. i mean they will pick these women apart. they will say they breathe wrong, they will say they are walking red flags for x amount of reasons when these characters are just genuinely trying to live their life and be human. i dont know if its the lack of awareness on the parts of these people about the way romantic relationships actually work or just a no i need these two dudes to kiss mindset but it is driving me wild more and more. You want to write gay ships? fucking go for it. by all means. but do not shit over any CANON piece of the source media just in order to make them gay. there are ways to do divergences etc without being like this woman sucks, death to her!!!!!

going along with the above, i'm tired of seeing sexualized gay ships. that's fetishization. plain and simple. i've seen things that say i don't write smut with my female muses or hetero ships but i absolutely will write it with my gay muses. what the hell is that??? i've seen people tag their smut threads etc with commentary thats like 'love it when boys do boys' and 'oof this is making me hot' . WHAT?! and these are cis women saying these things. stop !!

again, along the same vein here but ... fetishization doesnt mean just sexual stuff. thinking things are inherently cute just because its two males in love is strange and not the way the world works. gay boys have problems (hunter and i can attest to that lmaooo) and nothing is aw so sweet so cute they're so in love just because the ship is between two gay men. if you're going to write gay ships (or any ship!!), portray it accurately. you're writing people, not cardboard cutouts meant to fulfill your weird fantasies

divergences are not canon. i have seen things (especially in the current 'fandom' that this blog belongs to) that claim these whackadooodle ideas are canon when they are not. i mean claim they're canon to the point where i second guessed myself and thought maybe entire scenes had been left out of the version i watched. but no. its just insanity.

LET THOSE OF US WHO DONT WANNA SHIP WITH YOU LIVE IN PEACE. i'm not writing a rupert penry jones hallmark movie for you. i want to write. i want to explore things. i hate shipping. i hate the intimacy associated with shipping. i'm only comfortable enough to do it with hunter. respect the asexual muses. respect the fact that some of us don't want to hear about how attractive you find our fc when we're trying to talk to you about headcanons or plotting or media.

stop telling me how much fun you're supposedly having off of tumblr and just go have fun. if my dash is nothing but 80% your posts talking about you're having so much fun and living your best life .. i'm gonna start wondering how you manage to have much time to be on tumblr telling us about it.

i think rules should stop sounding like an application process where we all list everything short of our addresses and social security numbers. i just dont care enough about you to need to know all this.

remaking entire blogs every few weeks because you think its going to make you feel more comfortable is absolutely asinine. i give up after about the second move, mate. i am no longer invested. i wish you the best (Wherever the hell you are now) but i can't keep up with things that constantly get dropped etc. you need to work on something other than the blog. thats not what the problem is obviously.

time it takes to get replies back doesnt matter. but constantly dropping muses/dropping threads/dropping dynamics etc etc is a great way to lose partners. and then to complain about not having partners??? hello!!! why would any of us put in effort to write with you when its just gonna get dropped bc you're not feeling it in that moment? and ofc every once in a while is fine. its understandable. but if you're dropping everything every week because you dont have muse ... *buzzer noise* next please

#unpopular opinions / #i genuinely listed things pippa i didnt even count how many symbols you sent in lmaoooo #homebehind

[sadisthetic]

Dude your Jaya hanahakai au is everything. If you're not gonna write that uhhhh can I???? 'Cause it's so creative and intricate. Utter genius bro

Also I really love the unrequited/stay friends ending and the requieted ending. They're both just so good and so well thought out (i also dont want jay to die lmao). Also YES!!! GIVING NYA AGENCY!! You put so much consideration into her feelings and it's making me bark like a feral little dog. Like the worst thing about skybound is how it treats Nya as a character and I just shhdjdjd. This is driving me insane. Ninjago's writing makes me ill but yours has me on my knees.

THANK YOU.............. DRAMATICALLY FALLS TO MY HANDS AND KNEES..... SWEET FEEDBACK AND BOOST TO MY EGO.... i was insane while writing that entire au too.

ALSO ITS FUNNY... I WROTE SO MUCH ABOUT NYAS FEELINGS IN THIS AU BECAUSE IT WAS ENTIRELY NECESSARY. LIKE. I HAD TO. especially for requited end. i knew when i got to that point in the story where i had to address i knew it in my heart that this was like. the most important part. nyas feelings are so important in this au.... and i knew without proper explanation/justification of nyas feelings of why she falls in love with jay again the au Simply Would Not Work. all that consideration is me doing the intense relationship math (math? i dunno. its a process of some sort.) TO FIGURE OUT A WAY TO MAKE THEM WORK. because if anything. jaya should is a relationship that requires work. not effortless in the slightest.

i love jaya. its technically a terrible romance. fucking absolutely wretched and tormented by obligatory heterosexual writing. it only exists because straight writers Have to write het tax into their shows for some goddamn reason. but also. its the ship of all time. its because im delusional and have thought about it so much and put so much thought into how their relationship should BE and also wrote so much meta and shit to fill in the massive gaps in their relationship that canon doesnt address or skips over. YOU SEE JAYA IS ACTUALLY SO FUCKING INTERESTING AS A RELATIONSHIP. ITS SO INTERESTING BECAUSE ITS A FUCKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THEY ACTUALLY HAVE VERY LITTLE CHEMISTRY AS COUPLE. AND YET AND YET AND YET. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. THEY GET TOGETHER ON SUPERFICIAL TERMS. THEY BREAK UP. THEY GET TOGETHER AGAIN. BECAUSE THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. in my eyes they arent a perfect match for each other. actually. thats literally canon. jay isnt nyas perfect match (god i think about s3 so fucking much i hate it) but they love each other anyways and end up together in the end despite the things theyve gone through. i think theres something real about that. love that is mismatched and tried but they Work through it anyways. thats romance baby. theres something very romantic about love that takes effort (is the guy who is putting all the effort into the ship) (very delusional) (but very self aware about it)

jaya is like. a brain teaser. its like a fun puzzle for my brain to solve (fix) because its such a travesty in canon. the gordians knot of ninjago ships. i love thinking about it so much. i thought about it so much ive tricked myself into becoming a massive shipper who screams whenever they do something cute together

oh fuck im sorry i forgot to answer your question bc i got so fucking heated about jaya. its because im insane about them. it just happened. fuck. jaya............................ i love divorce...... anyways

YES you can write my au. because i certainly dont have the stamina to do it myself. i would like if you credited me for the idea tho if youre gonna use my plot beats. but otherwise? Feel Free. go nuts. i love fanfiction. i always think of my stories as fanfic anyways and man i sure do wish i could read my own au as a fic. but i lack the capacity to write this beast of an au in full. so like. someone else might as well. if you do. have fun

#ninjago talk #asks #jem.txt #thyburn thydust #christ this is long #guy who is just so normal

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: Eega (2012)

Eega (The Fly) (2012)

Rated UA by the Central Board of Film Certification (rough MPAA equivalent: PG-13)

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2023/03/review-eega-2012.html>

Score: 4 out of 5

This past Friday, Popcorn Frights gave me my introduction to Tollywood cinema (no, not Bollywood -- same country, different language) in the form of Eega, one of the films that S. S. Rajamouli wrote and directed before RRR made people outside India start taking notice of him. An effects-driven fantasy action-comedy about a man who gets murdered, gets reincarnated as a fly, and sets out to take revenge on the man who killed him, its plot and tone felt reminiscent of the old '90s family comedy Mouse Hunt, only jacked up to a downright insane level courtesy of both some genuine edge to its plot and a truly great villain performance by Sudeepa that managed to cross language barriers. This was a wild movie, and while the first act was pretty weird in how it framed the romance that ultimately becomes a key driving force in the story, once the part with the fly got going I was too busy laughing my socks off and being impressed by some of the visuals that they managed to cook up on a fairly small budget (roughly $6-7 million US). It's on Netflix, so if you wanna see something absolutely wacky that's nonetheless an actual good movie as well, check this one out.

Our protagonist Nani is an ordinary man who's madly in love with his next-door neighbor Bindu, a miniatures artist whose day job is running an NGO that assists local schools, a feeling that she's finally starting to notice and reciprocate. Seeking to raise money for her organization, Bindu reaches out to Sudeep, a sleazy, womanizing local land developer who uses the promise of funding in an attempt to make Bindu his new wife -- and when he notices that Bindu also has eyes for Nani, Sudeep decides to kill the lowly worker in order to get him out of the way. Unfortunately for Sudeep, even death can't stop Nani's love, as he's reincarnated as a fly who fully remembers his past life and sets out to make Sudeep's life a living hell, slowly driving him mad as he starts to believe in the "crazy" idea that a fly has developed a grudge against him.

The first half-hour or so was a mixed bag, less due to the film's technical qualities (it could actually be quite charming, especially with the obligatory musical number) and more due to how it presented Nani's unreciprocated love for Bindu. To put it as nicely as possible, he's depicted as something close to a stalker in his constant attempts to get her attention, to the point that even his roommate calls him out for it, and yet it's presented as just a goofy character quirk even though, in real life, there's a reason why women get uneasy about that sort of behavior. Yes, this movie comes from a different time (2012 was just coming out of a golden age for pickup artistry) and a different country, and the film is self-aware about it and makes Nani the butt of the joke as much as anyone, but it's still kind of off-putting, especially given that it's implied that Bindu really was just playing hard to get and does eventually fall for him by the end of the first act. If I'd written their dynamic, I would've focused more on Bindu being an upwardly-mobile middle-class artist and professional and Nani being a working-class laborer, making it a situation where Bindu clearly has affection for Nani but is afraid of being judged for dating below her status, a dynamic that would've played nicely into Bindu's interactions with the wealthy villain Sudeep who wants to claim her as his trophy wife. Instead, the way it came across felt like an obsessive romantic successfully wearing down the object of his affection because she's decided that the alternative is worse, even if the film did at least have some self-awareness about how Nani was acting.

That said, once Nani dies and comes back, a lot of that fades into the background in favor of a nonstop mix of hilarious comic set pieces and genuinely entertaining action scenes. Rajamouli gives this movie a style and flair you don't normally see in fantasy comedies coming out of Hollywood, with the numerous effects shots especially making up for their low budget with a measure of cartoony stylization that goes well with what's (mostly) a very family-friendly film. Nani has as much lovable character as a fly as he did as a human, arguably moreso given that we're no longer shown his stalker-ish tendencies, while Samantha Ruth Prabhu as Bindu carries the entirety of their relationship as she has to spend most of the movie pretending that the love of her life is now inhabiting the body of a fly, complete with outfitting him with protective goggles to resist bug spray and tiny metal claws to let him scratch at things. Some moments in this movie get wild, from our introduction to Fly!Nani first learning how to be a fly by traveling through a park to him harassing a traffic cop to cause gridlock in an intersection to the bit where Sudeep hires a witch doctor named Tantra to possess two birds to send after the fly. This movie's mix of action and slapstick comedy is bursting with creativity, constantly coming up with new ways to make me laugh myself silly.

While the fly may be the main character, this movie would not have worked nearly as well as it did without the mononymous actor Sudeepa playing the film's main villain, the very similarly named Sudeep (without the "a"). Sudeep is a caricature of a yuppie scumbag, a guy who we're introduced to skeet shooting while hitting on a woman who's later revealed to be another man's wife, such that he makes Nani look like a downright catch in comparison. The torment he receives from the fly over the course of the film may be over-the-top, but he makes it clear throughout that he deserves every bit of it, seeing other people as props and NPCs in his own story and not caring who he hurts. What's more, Sudeepa clearly had a lot of fun playing this guy who's slowly losing his mind as a little fly refuses to leave him be. He felt like a rich douchebag out of an '80s Hollywood comedy who, whether he's the hero or the villain, is above all else the butt of every joke as the movie finds new ways to creatively torture him both physically and mentally, and his ultimate comeuppance at the end was very well-deserved.

(Also, if American blockbusters insist on getting longer and longer, maybe they should imitate the Indian moviegoing tradition of having an intermission. Popcorn Frights didn't actually do the intermission for this and jumped straight into the second half, and frankly, at 2 hours and 14 minutes this one wasn't too long, but still.)

The Bottom Line

Eega was an extremely charming and hilarious movie that had some rough edges early on, but otherwise made a great introduction for yours truly to both S. S. Rajamouli and Indian cinema in general, and earns my recommendation.

#eega #2012 #2012 movies #s.s. rajamouli #nani #sudeepa #samantha ruth prabhu #action #action films #comedy #comedy films #fantasy #fantasy films #indian films #tollywood

[hellokenmaz]

If this manga doesn't have a good ending I'm gonna cry for hours and be so shitty istg

#i have absolutely NO idea where this plot is going and its driving me insane its so good #IF LOVE AND PEACH DONT END UP TOGETHER ILL FUCKING SCREAM

[hyunjilicious]

summary: there's no plot, this is just porn with boyfriend!Bucky. SMUT 2.3k

warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), face fucking, spit play, cum play, breath play, slight Daddy kink, light subby/dom vibes but not established dynamics. also unedited I'm lazy. Also 18+ PLS THANKS!

(Also I'm posting from my phone so if the readmore isn't working pls let me know!)

-

The sound of Bucky washing dishes was audible throughout the whole apartment, even reaching your ears as you laid in bed. Instagram was getting boring, and the fact that he had been gone for more than 15 minutes started to annoy you. Of course, you could have allowed yourself to think rationally and it would have been really easy for you to understand why ignoring household chores for days wasn't a good idea, but you refused to do so. You wanted him back in bed. And when he told you for the 4th time it would still be a while, you decided to take matters into your own hands. 

Jumping out of bed, you shuffled out of your shorts and let your hair down, before heading for the kitchen. When you spotted him, he had his back turned to you, his muscular back only serving as a reinforcement when it came to your idea. He seemed absorbed, with his mind miles away, as he failed to hear you walk up beside him.

Placing a soft hand on his back, you reached around his frame and turned the tap off, lowering yourself to your knees by his side.

"Y/n, what are you..." Bucky started mumbling, but eventually trailed off when he saw you settle on the marble floor.

He sighed and shook his head, but he didn't stop you.

And then, the games began. You started with an innocent pout, looking up into his eyes as you licked along your bottom lip. Your brows furrowed into a confused and playful frown and you started wiggling your body, pushing your ass back. 

A reaction from him wasn't slow to materialize, as he chuckled in disbelief and leaned back against the counter - a sign for you to keep going. And you did.

The further you went, the easier it was for you to come up with new ideas to tease him. Poking your tongue out and closing your eyes, you brought one hand up and pawed at his thigh. It wasn't enough to get him to comply, but the grunt that forced its way past his lips told you you were on the right track. 

You licked your lips and sucked on your thumb, pushing two fingers knuckle deep into your mouth as you looked him in the eye. The first light gagging sound that reached him broadened his grin, but he still refused to give you what you wanted. Judging by the darkening stare in his eyes and the way his chest rose and fell, he was enjoying this too much.

By now, you were already tingling all over. Opening your mouth and tilting your head back, you bend forward, giving him a view you knew he wouldn't resist. Your almost naked ass, on the floor - too far for him to reach, and your awaiting tongue, millimeters away from his hardening cock. 

But it still wasn't enough. You were sure it would be, but it wasn't. He remained motionless in his spot, watching you put on a show. But it was supposed to be more than that - you needed him to take part in it, and you wanted to do it on his own. You wanted to see him snap, to see him unable to control himself. 

Running out of ideas, you pushed yourself back and leaned against the counter, spreading your legs. The eye contact wasn't dropped as you started fiddling with the cotton of your panties, your fingers slowly finding their way inside. Just a small brush against your clit was enough to elicit a moan from your damp lips. It was exaggerated, yes, and you pushed your chest out as you whined out loud, begging him with your stare to join in. And there was no way he'd resist that too. He was too tightly wrapped around your finger, too weak for you and whatever you did, and this was the last straw. 

"Fuck-" Bucky errupted, prompting his hands against the edge of the counter behind him. His head fell forward, and he sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth.

Proud of yourself for getting him to this point, your eyes drifted lower to his jeans, specifically the area where his cock struggled against the material.

"I managed to get you hard!" you cheered, innocently.

At that, Bucky seemed offended. "You thought there was a universe where you could whore yourself out on the floor in front of me like that, and I wouldn't get hard?"

"I hoped there wasn't" you smiled, crawling closer to him and planting your hands on his massive thighs. His hand instantly came into your hair, petting it a few times before moving lower to stroke your cheek with his thumb. 

"Such a good, little kitten" he hummed, "Couldn't wait for me to finish up here..."

"I'm sorry, Daddy" you whimpered.

"No, you're not"

"No, I'm not" you laughed out loud, making Bucky do the same. 

"Then get to it, doll" he urged you, "finish what you started"

"What's the magic word?" 

You were pushing it. "Finish what you started. ??Now" Bucky made himself clear, and it was even better than what you initially wanted to hear. 

With his hand back in your hair - his fingers loosely wrapped around your roots, you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down his thighs. In your eagerness, you grabbed his underwear too, getting rid of it at the same time. His almost rock hard cock all but sprung out, and you didn't waste one second before taking it into your mouth.

You didn't even bother to use your hands, instead you just lowered yourself and sloppily closed your lips around his tip. 

Taking him as deep as you found it comfortable, you started bobbing your head up and down against his cock, hollowing your cheeks as your eyes slowly traveled up.

He was already looking down at you, awe visible in his stare, his lips slightly parted as he struggled to conform to your teasing pace.

Bucky did his best to let you work your magic in your own way, his thumb stocking your hair as the perverse sounds of you sucking his cock easily covered his rugged breathing.

Taking him out of your mouth, you wrapped your fingers around his base and moved to lick your way along his length, making it easier for you to pump into your hand. Working him up with lazy strokes and soft touches of your thumb against his slit, you shuffled closer and buried yourself between his legs, taking his balls into your mouth.

For whatever reason, he didn't see that coming and in turn bucked his hips into you, his head falling back in absolute bliss. "Holy fuck- doll, so, so good-"

You sent him a hum of approval as you lightly sucked, applying that specific amount of pressure you knew would drive him insane.

His thighs were shaking around your frame, and you were ready to lick your way back up his cock when he tightened his grip on your hair and pushed you away.

Filled with panic, you gasped, "Did I-?"

"You're fucking perfect" Bucky cut you off, bending down to furiously kiss your lips. His tongue forced its way inside your mouth before you even managed to register what was happening, but you complied sweetly, melting under his touch.

And you wanted to gush and to let yourself get absorbed, but at the same time, you weren't the type of person to leave a job halfway done - especially a blow job, and especially with Bucky. 

"Come on, baby, back to it" he urged you, straightening his frame as he helped guide you back on his cock, "Take me all the way in, doll. The way you always do"

And he didn't have to ask twice. You eagerly resumed your spot, welcoming his already licking tip on your tongue. You sucked softly, moaning against his cock, even whimpering every now and then, all of it for the sole purpose of making him lose it. Taking him out of your mouth, you swirled your tongue around his tip a few times, smiling up up him, "Do you like it, Bucky? Am I doing ok?"

"More than ok, doll" he weakly huffed. His hand fell from your hair, as he brought his thumb to your lips, rubbing them softly as you sat and waited. When he pushed his thumb into your mouth, you obediently welcomed him in. 

He did taste like dish soap but you didn't care. You had only one thing in mind, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the chores that was previously doing. 

"Suck, baby" he urged you.

Bucky squatted down in front of you, his finger still in your mouth as he did so. You obediently watched him, closing your lips around his thumb and starting to suck - maybe a bit too shily for his liking.

"Come on, baby" he laughed, "I know you can do better than that"

But he didn't give you a chance to show him. Instead, he pulled his hand back, his pointer and middle finger replacing his thumb. He shoved his fingers inside your mouth, knuckle deep, pushing down against your tongue. With each passing second your eyebrows would slightly raise as the need to cough only grew stronger. 

"That's it" he cooed when the innocent sound of you gagging against his fingers reached his ears. "A bit more, doll, for me, come on"

Despite your increasing need for air, you kept calm, struggling to choke down every cough and gag that threatened to erupt from your throat. When you reached your limit, he let you go, only then to hurry to kiss your lips before you'd get a chance to breathe properly. 

He had you so weak for him, so eager to do absolutely anything he'd ask. He knew it and loved it. 

The kiss was rough and passionate, but way too short. You couldn't help but moan in disappointment when he pulled away.

"Shh" he urged you, "Open up"

You listened to him in a heartbeat, parting your lips for him. Bucky grabbed ahold of your neck, keeping you in place as he spat on your tongue. Your jaw was shaking with eagerness, but you waited for him to place his thumb on your chin and close your mouth himself.

"Swallow, baby"

You did so with an innocent bob of your head. "Tasty" 

"Is it?" he laughed, "Got something better"

Of course you didn't have to ask what that was. Bucky straightened his back and you didn't waste a second before picking up his cock into your hand. However, he stopped you before you could to work, as he cupped your cheeks in his palms.

"Take me down your throat, beautiful, yeah? I don't want you breathing for this one"

You shook your head yes, and pumped him in your hand a few times, before taking him in your mouth. No matter how much you wanted to, your body refused to let you take him all the way down on your own. But he knew that, and loved the way he always needed to help you. 

With his fingers tightly wrapped into the roots of your hair, Bucky forced your head down his cock, keeping you in place. The way your throat convulsed against his tip was heavenly, accelerating the approach of his high. With precum and spit dripping down your chin, you sat in place. You concentrated on your grip on his thighs, on his heavy and strong muscles and the little hairs that tickled your fingers. But no matter how much you tried, tears did eventually build up in your eyes, soon cascading down your cheeks.

"Take it easy" he whispered, not loosening his grip in the slightest. "Relax, baby. I know you can take more"

You wanted to nod, but that was out of the question. Instead, you just wiggled around, curling your toes and sinking your nails into his toned thighs. It was very easy to tell just how close he was, the way his hips bucked and all the sweet little moans that escaped his lips. You struggled to hold on, choking and gagging on his cock, waiting for his release and for that breath of fresh air that would come with it. And it didn't take much longer, it didn't matter how big and buff he was, or how much of that supersoldier serum was still pumping through his veins, he never managed to resist you for too long.

Before you knew it, you found yourself harshly yanked back. Bucky's metal hand held your hair tightly as he fisted himself into his right hand, breathing heavily as he looked down at you.

"Turn around, doll" he commanded, "Ass up for me"

You followed his words in an instant, spinning around and laying down on the floor, your ass on full display for him. In one swift and rather painful motion, he ripped the underwear off of you, proceeding to cum all over your ass and lower back. 

"Fuck, fuck- yes-" he panted as he finished, holding onto your hips as he did so. Before telling you to stand up, he gathered a few droplets of cum on his thumb, "Come here, baby, look at me"

When you turned to face him, Bucky stuck his finger inside your mouth, barely managing to also get it out before attacking your lips with his own. The kiss was rather sloppy, with him being so out of breath and you so taken aback, but it worked. You both stumbled back, the kitchen floor cold against your skin you rolled over and dragged him with you.

"And you did this just to prove to yourself that you could do it?" Bucky questioned, staring at the ceiling as he caught his breath.

"Basically"

"Then why the fuck am I praising you so often? Might as well call you useless every now and then and see where that gets us"

"Ha" you giggled, "Kink unlocked"

For a split second, Bucky laughed along, but when realisation hit him, his face fell. "Wait what?"

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Learning to Swim

Request: (whenever you have time of course.) What about a post-war draco malfoy x reader where after astoria dies draco and scorpius are left alone for a couple years then he sees y/n a friend from Hogwarts and they fall in love again (you can decide how). this is my vision and I'm a sucker for post-war fics with draco. 🥺💕 - @obx-beach

A/N: I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH. Thank you so much for requesting it and for trusting me with your request! It got away from me but I really wanted to explore this idea in depth because for me, anyway, grief isn't something that disappears over time, but rather, becomes bearable. Please read the warnings before reading, I cover some heavy topics. As always, I hope you like it!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: heavy talk of grief and loss, some swearing, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, mentions of ghosts, a very cheesy ending.

Word count: 11.9k

Draco so rarely finds peace nowadays; a consequence of a confidently walking toddler who’s penchant for curiosity has him grabbing at what he can – the paper, the rug, the dog’s tail.

Draco so rarely find peace nowadays, but once a week, on a Saturday, he drops Scorpius off at his parents. His mother and father doting over the blonde-haired boy who looks more like his mother everyday despite the argument from Narcissa – “He has your nose, Draco!”

On the days he drops his son off at the manor, he apparates to the familiar black gates. They squeak whenever he opens them and no matter how many times he visits, he never remembers to bring the oil he promises to fetch.

Now, he doesn’t look at the names as he makes his way towards the familiar row, hands in his pockets, shoes sinking in the wet grass.

Before, he’d drag his feet. Reading every name he could as he struggled to come to terms with his disbelief and grief.

The granite headstone sits prettily above its plot; the marker for Draco to slow his pace to an amble.

She had died a Malfoy but had been buried in the Greengrass plot.

Draco had known of Astoria Greengrass for years; had been schooled with her sister but had known the family personally for years due to similar social circles, and as a result, social functions. Draco spent ball after ball getting to know the younger Greengrass sister much to the chagrin of Pansy Parkinson who still held a candle for Draco since their fling ended in Fifth Year.

He worked up the nerve to ask Astoria to dinner after a particularly hellish function where his father had pushed him to dance with every available girl that looked his way. For the most part, Draco accepted – wanting to keep his father happy and his mother hopeful. But through every dance, through every twirl on the floor, his eyes would wander back to where Astoria sat very intently focused on the napkin design.

On his third circuit of the dancefloor, Draco broke away from his dance partner earning a glare for his disrespect. He apologised with a smile but turned to the brunette sitting alone; he held his hand to her, and she took it with the grace of a well-raised daughter.

They span around the dancefloor; circle after circle after circle. They laughed, and they smiled, and they settled into a happy silence. One Draco felt so comfortable in that by the time they had finished their second dance together, Draco was certain he wanted to marry her.

By the end of the night, Astoria knew she wanted to marry him.

They were married less than six months after that night.

Three months after they were married, Astoria announced her pregnancy. Rumours started; stating that was the real cause for their quick wedding. But their families knew different; their families spent the entirety of the pregnancy wrapped in a cocoon of worry.

Then blood curse on the Greengrass family meant that Astoria would die at a young age, and Draco had prepared himself for that. Though, in private, he researched what he could to see if he could break the blood curse. This meant, however, the pregnancy was watched closely by Narcissa, by Daphne, and by multiple Healers flooed in from St Mungos.

Nine months later, on an unusually warm day in January, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born. Immediately, Draco knew that though he had his hair, Scorpius had his mother’s eyes and mouth.

Three hours after the birth of her son; as she held him tightly in her arms, watching him with the love only a mother could know, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass took her last breath.

-----------

The months after her death, Draco barely coped. He woke up in the mornings solely for Scorpius and Scorpius alone. He devoted his time to his son, marking every milestone in his baby scrapbook which on occasion he would take to his wife’s grave and go through it with her. Scorpius never visited the grave; for starters, he was too young, Draco wouldn’t let his son go through that but his son knew that his mother was no longer with them.

But that didn’t stop Scorpius asking for his mother after a nightmare had pulled him from sleep.

Narcissa tried to help; tried everything she could to help with his grief – at one point even suggesting he go see a psychic, but the fear of transference was enough to put Draco off the idea.

He didn’t have the heart to tell his mother that he didn’t need a psychic to tell him Astoria had made it to the other side and that she had found peace.

She haunted him nearly every night.

Flashes of her white night gown in the corner of his eye; glimpses of her beautiful face in the mirror.

His heart would race, and his palms would sweat as the panic set in.

For a long while, he believed himself to be going insane. The sheer grief he felt at the loss of his wife driving him to madness as though he were Heathcliff suffering the loss of his Cathy.

------

Draco had memorised the inscription on her headstone after visiting for a month straight.

He had memorised the path to her grave by the end of the first week; the soil still needing to settle.

His feet knew where the uneven ground would be, so it was all dodged expertly.

Draco has very little to say to Astoria when he kneels in front of her. He updates her on Scorpius; promises that he will bring him soon, but it was still too early for his son to see his mother.

In fact, most of his time at the grave is spent in silence. His knees soaking wet from the morning dew still covering the grass.

“Draco? Is that you?” A chiming voice asks as Draco’s head remains bent over his wife’s grave. He releases a sigh before looking up to see that it’s you – someone he hasn’t seen in years. The last he saw of you; you were stood defiantly facing the hordes of Death Eaters in courtyard at Hogwarts.

“(Y/N)?” He asks.

You frown, pointing towards the grave where his wife lies in perpetual sleep, “I heard, but I didn’t believe. I’m sorry for your loss, Draco.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Why are you here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You hold the flowers in your hand up in response, “I lost my grandfather less than a year back. I visit every week.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. He was a great man.” Draco murmurs, shame washing over him from his curt tone.

“Thank you,” You murmur quietly, “It’s still hard.”

Draco wants to offer words of comfort; to tell you that pain eases over time, but he would be lying to your face. The pain doesn’t ease, and the grief doesn’t lessen, it simply moves to one side and becomes bearable until something reminds you of the one you’ve lost whether it be a sound or a smell and then the pain washes over you like a tidal wave and you start to wonder whether you’ll come up for air or simply drown.

Draco decides not to say anything; turning back to face the woman he had pledged his life too.

You walk away after a slow nod; you wouldn’t get anything more out of him now.

-----

They say that time heals, that grief lessens, but it doesn’t.

Draco loves his son; he adores his son, but he cannot help but see him as a reminder of what he lost on the day of his birth.

He had gained a son; an heir to carry on the Malfoy name but he had lost the love of his life.

Draco leaves the graveyard soon after his encounter with you; feeling surly with how he had spoken to you.

He searches you before he leaves, but he finds you knelt at the grave of your grandfather with your head bent as the silent sobs rack your body.

He leaves you to your privacy; understanding that right now, intrusion is the last thing needed.

------------

Draco sits in the living room of his marital home that night; a tumbler of whisky in his hand as he leans back in the chesterfield armchair gifted to him by his parents as part of their wedding present.

The wedding present being the house.

There are reminders of Astoria all over the house; from the pattern of the curtains to her photos lining the walls. She was everywhere. How was he was supposed to start living his life when his house remained a mausoleum?

He feels the hand on his shoulder; he doesn’t need to turn to see who it is.

“You need to stop doing this, Draco,” She murmurs.

He sighs through his nose, “I don’t see why.”

“You’re hurting everyone around you; you didn’t use to be like this.”

“It’s been a trying time, love.”

“I know it has. For both you and Scorpius, but it’s been three years, darling.”

The air in the room has become cold; too cold. To the point where his breath has started to fog; he takes a sip of the amber liquid to warm his body through.

“I can’t forget you, I won’t. He has no memories of you; he needs me to remember you.”

The voice behind him shakes, “My love, you’ll never forget me. I live on in him.”

Draco doesn’t say anything; the lump in his throat making it impossible for him to speak. The absolute yearning with him has him reaching up to take the hand settled on his shoulder.

The tears start to fall when his hand falls through the ghostly spectre.

-----

Morning comes and Draco wakes in the same chair he had fallen asleep in. He scratches at the stubble lining his face as he stretches his legs, bones popping as he stands to full height.

The clock on the mantle chimes seven times and Draco supposes he should start the day and collect his son from the Manor. He hadn’t been in any state last night to have him at home; it was better for Scorpius to stay with his grandparents.

The light to the bathroom flickers as Draco drags himself into the shower; the hot water and lavender shower gel doing a good job at leeching the tension that had become set into his shoulders.

He wipes the steam from the mirror before lathering his face with shaving cream and beginning the soothing action of shaving. Narcissa preferred him clean shaven anyway; believed that the stubble made him look like a vagrant.

A flash of white in the corner of his eye has Draco freezing with the razor halfway to his cheek.

His hand begins to shake, and he places the razor back in the sink as he braces himself on the counter. He counts to ten before he dares to look back up at himself in the mirror.

He was being haunted.

------

In the years after the Second Wizarding War, Narcissa had taken it upon herself to entirely renovate Malfoy Manor from the dark, dank place it was to make it more of a home for her family. A home in which Draco should have been raised in.

Narcissa greets him at the door with a kiss on the cheek and a concerned look that only a mother could pull off.

“Good Morning Mother, how are we today?”

“I’d be a lot better if you looked better. Did you get any sleep?”

Draco nods, thinking to the few hours in the armchair, “I got some.”

“Not enough by the looks of it, but at least you shaved. Have you eaten yet?”

He shakes his head, “I came straight here.”

“Luckily for you, Scorp is still eating.”

Draco hangs his coat on the grand railing by the door before following his mother through his childhood home.

His son beams at the sight of his father walking through the door, “Dad!” he yells, dropping his piece of fruit and jumping off his chair. He runs to Draco, wrapping his arms around his legs.

Draco chuckles, picking his son up, settling him on his waist, “Hey there squirt, did you have a nice night with granny and grandpa?”

Scorpius nods, still chewing his last piece of breakfast, “Yeah, me and granny baked, and she let me eat the mix!”

Narcissa lets out an overdramatic gasp, “That was our secret, Scorp!”

Scorpius laughs at his granny’s reaction, “I had to tell Dad!”

Draco tickles his son’s stomach; grinning at the laughter leaving his son’s mouth.

He had never known a world with his mother; and he never would, yet here he was as happy as any three year old could be.

“Are you joining us, Draco?” His father’s voice sounds; breaking Draco from his melancholy.

Draco clears his throat, letting Scorpius down so he can sit next to Narcissa at the table, “Yes, I think I will.”

Anything to not go back to the house so soon; anything to avoid seeing her in the corner of his eye or in the mirrors.

Narcissa nails him with a look she has made entirely her own after dealing with a supremacist order for over a decade.

Draco wavers under his mother’s stare; ready to drop the pretence and cry in her arms.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he grabs the bowl of strawberries and scoops a spoonful onto his plate before reaching for a waffle and grabbing his knife and fork.

“Lucius, darling, why don’t you show Scorpius your matchbox collection? I know he’d love them.”

“What are matched boxes?” Scorpius asks.

Narcissa laughs lightly at her grandson’s pronunciation, “Match boxes, sweetheart.”

Lucius stands from the table; knowing very well what the determined look in his wife’s eyes meant, “Come on, my boy. I’ll show you my collection; I want to see if you can count how many there are.”

Scorpius’ eyes light up at the chance to make his grandfather proud; he jumps down from the chair before reaching to grab Lucius’ hand. Together, they leave the dining room, Lucius prattling about the history of the match box and why they needed to be collected.

Narcissa waits until they’re out of earshot before turning on her son who on the outside, almost pulled off looking so put together. Inside, she knew, was a broken man desperate to find a way to lessen the pain.

“It’s been three years, darling.”

“I know,” Draco answers; resisting the urge to groan.

“How often are you visiting her?”

“Once a week now.”

There was a point in the first months after her death where Draco would visit the graveyard every day for hours. He didn’t even say anything; he just sat on the perfectly trimmed grass in front of her grave and sobbed for the life that had been lost and the future that had been robbed.

Narcissa nods, “That’s good, Draco.”

Draco nods; he had gotten better in the years since her passing but Narcissa would never understand what it feels like to lose a spouse a year into a marriage that should have lasted an eternity.

Narcissa sighs, “Do you think it’s time now?”

“Time for what?” He asks; voice hard.

“To think about finding somebody else? I’m not saying you need to do it right now, Draco, but it’s something to think about.”

Draco sees red, but he tries to keep a lid on his temper for the simple fact that it is his mother sitting in front of him, “I lost my wife, mother. She died giving birth to my son; your grandson. She died and now Scorpius doesn’t have a mother and I don’t have my wife standing beside me. I think I’ll take all the time I need to recover from this.”

Narcissa sighs, “Of course, Draco. You know I didn’t mean it as an insult.”

Draco rubs at his eyes; feeling wretched for the way he had spoken to his mother. She barely left his side after Astoria’s death; she had been the one to pull him away from her body.

“I’m sorry, mother. It was a tough night.”

“You’re having a lot of those, I’ve noticed.”

Draco’s lip begins to wobble, and he thanks Merlin that Scorpius is out of the room, so he didn’t have to watch his father fall to pieces.

Narcissa folds her son into her arms with the care only a mother could show. She strokes his hair as he sobs against her.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Draco sobs.

“Neither did we, my love.”

-----

Draco feels better after talking to his mother. Lucius returned fairly quickly after Draco had dried his eyes; Scorpius following on his tail, chattering about what he planned to do when he returned home.

Draco opens his arms for his son who happily falls into them; preferring to be carried rather than walking unless he was running around the gardens or the park.

“Do you have everything you need?” Draco asks his son.

Scorpius nods as Lucius holds up the small overnight bag that holds his clothes, pyjamas and his priceless teddy, Wellesley. It was the first thing Astoria brought when she found out she was pregnant. Scorpius treasured it like nothing else.

Draco takes the bag from his father; well aware of the extra treats hidden there. Scorpius had Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy wrapped around his little finger.

After they apparate home, Lucius and Narcissa watch the spot in which their son and grandson disappeared. Hands clutching the other; both worried sick over their only son.

-----

He fills his week with his son; adventures, hide-and-seek, visits to the library. Draco makes sure Scorpius fills his day with activities designed to educate but to also have fun.

It’s also a way for Draco to keep his mind drifting to the one person who no matter how he often prays and wishes, will always remain absent.

The park is one of Scorpius’ favourite places to visit. He has a personal aim to swing as high as he can without giving his father a heart attack.

They spend their hours doing all sorts together, and every night before bed, Draco tucks Scorpius in tightly. Dropping a kiss to his son’s head and then his teddy’s head, Draco wishes Scorpius the sweetest of dreams.

On a night, Draco lets the memories of his short marriage consume him. He doesn’t wear his wedding ring on his finger anymore, but rather, attached to a chain he wears around his neck. He twists this chain for hours on a night thinking of the mother that Astoria never got the chance to be.

------

Draco’s visit to the graveyard is shorter this week on account of what happened last time. He knew what happened in the living room was down to the fact that he had spent too much time at her grave, lamenting how much he missed her.

It was expected that she would answer his calls.

So he resolves to make this visit shorter; long enough to clean the area and replace the flowers but short enough to not tempt fate and spectres.

Draco recounts to her tales of Scorpius’ week. Draco laughs and beams like a proud father when he tells the story of Scorpius adopting the family of Nifflers from their copse at the bottom of the garden. He had been so proud of himself; walking all the way back to the house with a four Nifflers in tow who had deemed Scorpius as one their own.

“You’d have thought he was a Scamander,” Draco laughs, patting the loose grass from his suit pants. “I think he could very well excel at Care of Magical Creatures but it’s too soon to tell, my dear.”

Eventually, Draco stands, wiping down his black suit trousers and whispering a goodbye.

Draco is a few steps away from the black, creaky gate when you bustle through; bouquet in hand, sad smile on your face.

You pause in the gateway when you see Draco standing before you.

“(Y/N),” Draco greets, “I was hoping to catch you. I wanted to apologise for how I spoke to you the last time I saw you.”

“Draco, there’s nothing to apologise for. You’re mourning your wife; the last thing you need is someone invading that space.”

“All the same, I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

“I accept your apology, Draco.”

“Would you like to join me for a coffee? It’s been years since I saw you last, and I think it would be nice to catch up.”

You glance between the flowers in your hand and Draco waiting patiently for an answer.

“It’s okay if you don’t. I understand if you want to be with your grandfather.”

You bite your lip, glancing back to the flowers, “Do you want to come with me? All I need to is say hello and change the flowers. You don’t have to, though.”

Draco shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. I’ve had my visit today, so I don’t mind waiting with you.”

You smile at him gratefully, “Thank you; he’s just this way.”

Draco follows you as you walk the well-trodden path to your grandfather’s grave. He doesn’t let himself think as he follows, and as a result, almost bumps into you when you stop in front of a grey granite headstone.

“Hi Grandad,” You greet, “I’ve brought someone with me today, I hope you don’t mind. I’m just changing your flowers though because then we’re going to get coffee.”

You turn your attention to Draco when you finish speaking, “It’s morbid I know but it helps me process. I know he isn’t hearing me, but I can vent here and somehow I always find a solution to my problem.”

Draco nods, “I do the same with Astoria. I tell her about Scorpius and her parents though I know they visit just as much.”

You smile at the blonde-haired man before discarding the dried out flowers to one side, replacing them with the fresher, brighter flowers.

Draco watches you through the process; not missing the way your eyes dart between the headstone and to something just past it.

For a brief moment, Draco wonders if you’re being haunted too.

-----

The coffee shop is warm compared to the brisk wind that howls outside. Draco’s body relaxes as he takes in the familiar scent of bitter coffee beans; it was a recent love of his, but now, he wouldn’t find himself going a day without a cup of the acrid liquid.

You unravel the scarf hanging around your neck before taking a seat at a corner table, “I didn’t think it would be this cold today. It makes me glad I overdressed,” you chuckle.

Draco laughs politely; his own coat now hanging on the back of his chair.

You smile, “Do you know what you want? I’ll go order.”

“Nonsense, I’ll order, I invited you here.”

“Well I won’t turn down free coffee, I’ll have a latte please.”

“I’ll be right back,” is all he says before leaving the table to order.

As the drinks are being made by the teenaged barista, Draco starts to second-guess his intentions for why he asked you for coffee in the first place. All week the conversation he had with his mother had been replaying in his mind, and then he runs into you as he’s leaving the graveyard. Before he knew it, the words were flying out of his mouth and he was unable to stop them.

He’s panicking, but he doesn’t find himself regretting asking you.

He’s only regretting his intentions as to why he asked you.

He’s been alone for three years. He has Scorpius, and his parents, but he doesn’t have anyone he can talk to on a night when the air is quiet, and the moon is high. He doesn’t have that one person that he can simply hold and know that everything will be okay.

Then and there, he lets himself admit it: he’s lonely.

Astoria had been everything for the eighteen months they had been together. He was utterly devoted to her; completely besotted by her. Draco knew that he had found the love of his life; he just didn’t expect her to be taken from him so soon.

But still he wonders.

He wonders if it’s time; he wonders whether Astoria watches him and urges him to find someone new.

To feel that rush of falling in love all over again.

The clinking of mugs rips Draco from his internal debating. He thanks the barista with a smile, picking up the tray of drinks and walking carefully back to where you wait for him.

You thank him as you pick up your latte, “You looked to be thinking pretty intensely over there.”

“You were watching me?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you say, “I got bored of the view of the café.”

Draco nods; sipping tentatively at his coffee, wincing before adding another sugar to taste.

“What were you thinking of? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. I was thinking of Astoria,” he admits.

You simply nod your head; understanding completely that a widow would think of his loss.

“How are you coping with her loss? It’s been a few years now, hasn’t it?”

“I could ask you the same question about your grandfather,” Draco murmurs, “We’re coping okay. Scorpius is thriving; he’s such a smart three year old and I know I’m biased but he retains information like a sponge.”

You laugh, “I was going to ask you about your son, I’m glad to hear he’s happy.”

“He doesn’t have any memories of his mother, but he knows who she is. He has a framed picture of her in his room that he says goodnight to every night.”

“He sounds precious, Draco.”

Draco nods; thinking of his dear boy, “He is. And I know she’s proud of him, I just feel it in my bones.”

“I’ll bet my last sickle that she’s proud of you too.”

Draco blinks fast; ridding the sudden tears away. “Thank you,” he whispers, taking another drink of his coffee to distract from the sudden wave of emotion.

He clears his throat once the wave has passed, “I asked you here to catch up; not for me to ruin the mood with my grief. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since the war.”

“You can talk to me about this, Draco, I don’t mind,” You state before continuing, “I’ve been well – I travelled a lot after the war. The whole realisation of life is short really hit me, so I left the country for a bit; travelled through Europe before jumping ship to America.”

Draco’s eyes widen, “That’s incredible. Where was your favourite place to travel?”

You glare at him playfully, “That’s such a hard question!”

He laughs lightly, “Still – you have to answer.”

You tap your fingers against your thigh, thinking his question over. You had loved everywhere you visited; feeling extremely fortunate to have met such a range of magical communities as well as integrate yourself within muggle society for a time.

“I think it would have to be this tiny island in Greece; it is said that in ancient times, the locals believed it was the end of the world, and if you went any further, you would fall off. I stayed there the longest; around a month where I explored the island, ate their food, and drank with the locals. It was the best time of my life.”

Draco inhales sharply at your words; not realised that he’s instinctively leaned towards you through your speech. He leans back into his chair, running a hand through his hair, “It sounds wonderful,” he whispers.

You nod; eyes glazed somewhat as you think back to your time on that heavenly island, “It really was.”

You shake yourself from your reminiscing, “What about you then, Draco? I know about the wedding, and your son, but what did you do after the war?”

Draco waves his hand in a nonchalant fashion, “Nothing as wonderful as travelling the globe though I did go to France on my honeymoon. I trained as a Healer straight from Hogwarts; I’ve been at St. Mungo’s since Scorpius was born.”

“That’s great, Draco! I always knew you would make a great Healer ever since I saw you in Potions.”

Draco ducks his head, “Thank you, I enjoy the work. Are you working now?”

You nod your head, “I work for the Daily Prophet; writing real articles and not the trollop that Rita Skeeter used to waffle on about.”

Draco barks out a laugh, surprising himself at the volume of it, “I remember her coverage of the Triwizard Tournament! It was so awful.”

You beam; eyes bright with joy, “Weren’t they? I promise I’m a much better writer… not to sound big-headed.”

“I completely believe you; I’ll have to start keeping an eye out for your articles. I haven’t read the paper in so long. I haven’t had the time if I’m honest – I get my news from my mother.”

“How are your parents? I heard about them after the war.”

“Mother coped so well. She made it her mission to entirely renovate the house, and with it, the Malfoy reputation. She donates to charities now; her focus is children orphaned during the war. Father struggled, but he’s found his purpose for life again in Scorpius. Last time I was there, he showed him his collection of matchboxes.”

You laugh lightly, “That’s brilliant. I’m glad to hear that they’re doing well.”

“How is your family? I remember your mother from Kings Cross, always running to meet you off the train.”

“She’s doing okay,” You sigh, “She struggled after my grandfather but she’s working her way back to herself.”

Draco nods in understanding; he felt nothing but pride and a sting of jealously for your mothers process with her grief. Here he was, three years later, and still reaching out to the other side of bed only to grasp at empty, cold sheets.

However, as all things must, your time together comes to an end. The coffees are drank; coats are pulled back on and goodbyes are said on the pavement.

Draco walks away from you; apparating back to his home feeling lighter than he has in years.

------

Draco takes Scorpius to Diagon Alley on a Wednesday morning.

His son had been particularly restless the night before; a nightmare waking him. Draco does what he can to chase the monsters away before scooping up his only son and carrying him to the master bedroom. Scorpius sleeps soundly after that, but Draco remains awake – mind plaguing him with memories of Astoria but also of the coffee he shared with you.

It’s noon when Scorpius begins to pester his father for lunch. In his own words; he’s starving, and he hasn’t eaten in hours.

Draco laughs at his son. Three years old, but utterly dramatic. He kneels down so he’s eye-level, “How about we have ice cream for lunch?”

Scorpius’ face lights up and he begins to jump in his spot, “Can we go now? Please?”

Draco nods, holding out his hand for Scorpius take so he doesn’t get lost in the short distance to Florean Fortescue’s. He had lost him once; and whilst it was only two minutes before he found him, it was two minutes, he never wants to relive.

Draco lifts Scorpius so he can see the rows of flavours behind the glass. Scorpius’ eyes are wide as he checks the colour of every flavour. He even goes so far to press his face to the glass, fogging it up. Draco chuckles at his son’s antics; knowing full well he’ll pick the same flavour he’s gotten on every visit.

“Have you decided?”

Scorpius nods, “Chocolate please.”

Draco places Scorpius on the ground, “One chocolate tub, and one caramel fudge swirl tub please.”

Florean nods at the young Malfoy family with a large smile; watching them sit down at a window table before bringing their ice creams to them.

Scorpius attacks his chocolate tub with ferocity. Draco touches his son’s hand, “Slow down, squirt. You’ll get stomach ache.”

Scorpius looks as if he doesn’t believe his father’s word but not wanting to risk the chance of a stomach ache, he slows his pace. Carefully scooping the frozen treat before eating. His legs swing as he watches the scores of witches and wizards passing; they all look to be hurrying somewhere yet Scorpius doesn’t know where, but seeing all the different people, keeps his attention squarely on the window.

Draco works his way through his ice cream faster than his son; his weakness being the caramel fudge swirl that Florean makes fresh every day. He settles for drifting once his tub is empty and Scorpius is happily distracted by whatever he’s watching out of the window.

Draco begins to wonder about his son’s future – something he’s done a thousand times since his birth. He wonders about what Hogwarts house would best fit his sons personality; though he knew that the Sorting Hat would be the final word on that. But Draco can’t help but ponder over what attributes his son will demonstrate – will he ambitious enough for Slytherin? Courageous enough for Gryffindor? Loyal enough for Hufflepuff? Creative enough for Ravenclaw?

He had eight more years to ponder over it, but it’s still a question he’d like answered. However, Draco would still adore his son no matter his house.

“Draco?” Your voice sounds, breaking him out of his deliberating.

“(Y/N),” He greets.

Scorpius turns from people-watching, taking in the visitor standing at their table.

“And you must be Scorpius, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

Scorpius shies away slightly from the new person, inching back a bit in his chair.

“It’s okay, Scorpius,” Draco reassures, “I went to school with (Y/N).”

You nod, “I did! I was in Slytherin with him, and he was so smart! He still is; he’s a Healer isn’t he? Isn’t that so cool?”

Draco blushes at your compliments but it brings Scorpius out of his shell.

“My dad is the coolest! He fixes people when they are very sick.”

You nod seriously, “Yes, he does. It was very nice to meet you, Scorpius but I have to get back to work with my ice cream.”

Scorpius smiles, his teeth on show, “Goodbye!”

“It was nice to see you, Draco,” You say, smiling at the blonde-haired man.

“It was nice to see you too, even if it was so brief.”

You laugh, “Work calls I’m afraid, but I always have an ice cream, so I wasn’t going to let work stop me,” You wander back to the counter where Florean waits with your cone, “I’ll also cover Draco’s bill too, Florean.”

“You don’t have to,” Draco begins to protest.

You hold your hand up, smiling gently, “You treated me to coffee. I’ll treat you to your ice cream.”

Draco nods, wordlessly. Scorpius watches him with his eyebrows furrowed.

You take a lick of your cone, “I’ll see you soon, Draco. Have a nice day, Scorpius!”

And like that, you leave the ice cream parlour, heading back to the office where a pile of work awaits.

Draco leans back in his chair, disbelief clear on his face.

“What’s wrong, dad?”

Draco shakes his head, “Nothing, squirt.”

Scorpius shrugs, determining it adult stuff. “I like the lady who spoke to us.”

“(Y/N)?”

Scorpius nods, “She was really nice.”

“She is. She was nice when we were at school together.”

“She’s a good friend.”

“She is,” Draco murmurs once again, mind in another place entirely.

Scorpius lets his father have his moment; turning back to the window, wondering if he might get to see the nice lady named (Y/N) again.

------

Two months pass, and January’s winter gives way to March’s spring.

The gardens at his home and at the Manor have started to bloom beautifully meaning that Draco is constantly surrounded by floral aromas that make his head spin and Scorpius sneeze.

Draco starts to see more and more of you at the graveyard. After each visit, you seem to wait for the other – always asking whether the other would like to go for a coffee; very rarely refusing the offer.

He enjoyed the time he spent with you; Draco felt like he got to make up for the lost time he was an arsehole at Hogwarts.

The more time he spent with you; the more he started to feel the urge to begin his life again. But the hauntings continue; he continues to see his wife in the mirror; hearing her voice on a night whispering to him that it’s okay to move on. But hearing those words from the mouth of the woman he promised an eternity with racks his entire body with guilt.

But it’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t want to stay away from you.

The more time you spend with Draco Malfoy; the more you can feel yourself fall for him – his smile, his eyes, his mind. You just hoped that the landing wasn’t going to be too rough.

------

Draco drops Scorpius off at the Manor before heading to the graveyard for his usual Saturday visit. He blindly hopes to see you again after running into you at the ice cream parlour and seldom seeing you after but refuses to let himself dwell too long on the hope.

He was visiting his dead wife, after all.

He still grieves for her; still reaches for her in the middle of the night, but there are times through the day where he doesn’t feel so weighed down by grief – where he feels as if he can begin functioning fully once again.

But then that brings the guilt.

And that leads to the sightings.

And then that leads to the visits.

It’s a vicious cycle, and he’s desperate to break it.

He knows logically that Astoria would always be a part of him; he sees her every time he lays eyes on Scorpius but the small voice in the back of his head tells him often that he isn’t ready to let go yet.

And all Draco is desperate to know is: when?

-----

You find him knelt before her grave. He’s silent; simply staring at her headstone, reading the words that are already seared into his mind: Beloved Daughter, Wife, and Mother.

You place your hand on his shoulder and he jumps at the sudden contact. He relaxes once he sees it’s you, “(Y/N),” he breathes out, “I thought you were someone else.”

“I can tell,” you murmur, “Are you okay?”

He nods silently; gazing at the headstone once again, “I will be.”

“I can stay with you, if you need me.”

He shakes his head, “Go. Go see your grandfather; tell him hi from me.”

You want to laugh but nothing comes out. Draco looks at you; his blue eyes bright, “I’ll be okay,” he says gently.

The softness of his voice has you stepping away, “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

Draco nods, hearing you walk away from him.

He’s a man made entirely of conflictions. He watches you from the corner of his eye and wonders whether he is finally ready to start his life again after Astoria; ready press play once more and see what happens but the sheer fear that runs through him, paralyses him.

He doesn’t know what to think; he doesn’t know what to do.

All he knows is that in the handful of times he has seen you, you make him want to live again.

----

Your time with your grandfather comes to an end, and you stand from where you had knelt, murmuring a goodbye.

You can’t miss the way Draco remains in front of his wife’s grave. Standing just after you; stretching out the tight muscles in his back that had stiffened the longer he had sat there.

You sigh at the sight; mindlessly wondering if you would ever find a love that would impact you this much.

It was unintentional; it hadn’t meant to happen but the feelings you once harboured for the Slytherin Prince were returning in full force the more you saw of him.

But now, there was so much more to consider.

At Hogwarts, it was social groups that kept you from ever revealing your crush – that, and Pansy Parkinson. Now, though, Draco was a widower still very much in love with his dead wife, and he had a son that came first.

You know you need to tread carefully, but there was something addicting about the man’s presence. His way with words; his hand gestures; how he’d slip off into his own mind – it all had you caught; you were hook, line, and sinker.

You make your way back to the blonde-haired man, “What do you say to another coffee? I wish I could have stayed longer the last time I saw you, but work, you know?”

Draco nods; looking very much as if he wants to accept – the words being on the very tip of his tongue, but he sighs heavily, “I can’t today, I need to grab my son from my parents.”

“Oh,” You shake your head – of course, “Another time then! I’d like to see you again soon.”

You make to walk away but a hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, “Would you like to come with me? I need to grab Scorpius but we’re making dinner tonight and you’re welcome to join.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be. Scorpius has been asking about you.”

That makes your decision for you, “Alright, I’ll join you for dinner.”

Draco smiles; letting go of his hold on your wrist, “I usually apparate to the manor, do you mind?”

You shake your head, placing a gentle hand on his outstretched arm.

Within a second, you’ve landed at the seat of Malfoy power for the last century. Draco was right you realise; Narcissa had lightened the manor up. Flowers border the main path; stemming from Hyacinths to white Lilies, to Irises. Colour lives up the home immediately, and the warm light coming from the masses of windows only makes the place more welcoming.

“I remember visiting here when I was a youngster,” You start, “I remember it being cold and uninviting… no offence, but now it feels so warm and happy.”

“That’s my mother’s influence,” Draco states; smiling wryly at the sight of all the flowers, knowing too well of the masses of Roses behind the manor.

Draco sounds the knocker three times before Narcissa pulls open the door with the smile reserved only for her son. She blinks twice before registering your presence; then she needs to do a double take.

“Afternoon, Mother,” Draco greets; leaning in to kiss her cheek which Narcissa returns distractedly – her eyes still on you.

“Draco, dear,” She greets, “And who have you brought with you?”

“Straight to the crux, aren’t we?” Draco laughs, “This is (Y/N). Surely you remember her?”

“Not Anthony’s granddaughter?”

You nod your head; ignoring the spear of grief flung through you at the sound of your grandfather’s name, “The very same,” you greet, “It’s lovely to be here. I was just mentioning to Draco how gorgeous your flowers are.”

Narcissa beams; her flowers are her pride and joy other than the son who had battled so much and came out the other side only stronger. “Thank you, my dear. Lucius and I were so saddened to hear of Anthony’s passing – tell me, how is your mother doing?”

“Better, thank you. She took his death as a blow – well, we all did but she took it the hardest being the only daughter and losing my grandmother so young.”

Narcissa nods; ushering you into the foyer of the grand manor, “We sent flowers, but we’re sorry we couldn’t make it to the service.”

A lumps forms in your throat at the mention of the service. It had been a beautiful and respectful service, but your memories of it were tied with the heart-clenching sobs of your mother as he cried about how she missed her father. It was a hard day and night for all; very few had dry eyes.

Draco notices your hesitancy at replying to his mother; notices the glazed look in your eye. He wraps his arm around Narcissa’s shoulder, distracting her from asking you any more questions, “How was Scorpius today?”

“Like always, an angel,” Narcissa coos, “Lucius has started to teach him French.”

“French? So early?” Draco asks; keeping a wary eye on you.

“Nonsense, my love. You were three when we started to teach you the basics.”

“You speak French?” You ask; mind now focused back onto the conversation. You shoot a grateful look to draco; he replies with a soft, kind smile.

Narcissa nods, “Most of our family does. Draco has spoken French fluently since he was nine years old.”

“Oui, maman,” Draco responds cheekily.

Narcissa playfully hit her son’s shoulder, “Hush you. Scorpius is with your father in the Library – shall we go grab him?”

Draco nods; desperate to see his son after hours apart, “Are you okay to follow?” he asks, throwing a glance to where you remain rooted.

You shake yourself free; banishing all thoughts of Draco and his speaking of one of the most romantic languages on the planet from your head.

You follow with a sheepish smile, “Definitely. Even I’ve heard tales of Lucius’ library.”

Narcissa chuckles, “He spends more time in there; researching and reading anything.”

“What does he research?” You ask; curiosity piqued.

“Anything – the pagan tribes of the celts at the moment. He’s focused on the history of Wiltshire at the moment; I’ve had stop him twice this week from apparating to Stonehenge and scaring the tourists.”

Draco pauses; falling into step with you as Narcissa opens the library doors, “My father needed something to do after the war; historical research turned out to be his niche.”

“It sounds like he’s having one hell of a time,” You comment; not kissing the grin that stretches across Draco’s face.

“Scorp, darling, your father is here!” Narcissa calls out after not having found her grandson where she had left him with his grandfather.

It’s hard to miss the footfalls of the toddler as he runs through the shelve stacks, crowing, “Dad! You’re back!”

Draco catches Scorpius in his arms, “Hey there, squirt. How was your day?”

“Fun. Grandpa taught me about the selts.”

“Celts, my boy,” Lucius says, appearing from behind one of the many shelves, “A hard C. Celts.”

Scorpius’ eyebrows furrows as he repeats the word again, “Celts.”

Lucius claps, “Excellent! We’ll make a historian of you yet.”

Scorpius beams at the pride rolling off Lucius in waves; he almost doesn’t notice you standing next to Draco.

“(Y/N)!”

“Hi Scorpius,” You greet.

“Why are you here?” He asks.

You laugh at his curiosity, “Your father invited me for tea, is that okay?”

The young boy nods, “We’re having pasta.”

You smile, “I like pasta.”

Scorpius nods again, and just like that, it’s settled.

Draco hitches Scorpius higher onto his hip, “He wasn’t much trouble?”

His question breaks his parents from staring at the exchange between you and Scorpius. Lucius smiles at Draco, “Scorpius is never any trouble.”

“Thank you for looking after him again.”

“It’s no bother to us. We love the boy,” Narcissa comments; blinking away what look to be like tears.

“We’ll see you soon, no doubt,” Draco says, “Say bye to granny and grandpa, squirt.”

Scorpius yells his goodbye with a large smile.

Draco holds his free arm out to you, and the three of you apparate to his home in the next village over.

Draco’s house is nowhere near the size of Malfoy Manor, but it is still large in comparison to the two bedroomed flat you rented in Diagon Alley.

It’s perfectly symmetrical you realise as Draco opens the garden gate. Two windows on either side of the pale green front door. Always a Slytherin, you think as you follow Draco up the main path. He readjusts Scorpius as he reaches for his key; putting Scorpius down as he opens the door.

Scorpius reaches for your hand, “I’ll show you the kitchen,” he states, leading you through the large foyer to a room just to the right.

The kitchen is the biggest one you’ve been in. The island being home to a breakfast bar where Scorpius tries to climb up to before you cave and place him on one of the stools.

Draco follows closely behind; opening the fridge to grab the ingredients for dinner.

You hop off a stool, “What can I do to help?”

Draco pauses, “You need to sit down, I said I was cooking.”

You roll your eyes, “I want to help, so what can I do?”

“Add the pasta to the pot when the water starts to boil. I’ve already salted the water.”

You nod, rolling the sleeves up on your blouse. Draco doesn’t miss the small tattoo on your left forearm, “When did you get that?” he asks as he starts to crush and chop some garlic.

You look down to the now familiar swirling patterns below the crook of your elbow, laughing, “I got it after our Eighth Year. I snuck out to a muggle artist and got it done; mum hit the roof.”

Draco laughs, moving on to slicing the tomatoes in two. You look down at the pot of water, happy to see it boiling. You add the pasta to the pot, stirring twice before stepping away from the pan.

You sit back down at the breakfast bar; ruffling Scorpius’ hair as you do so. The blonde-haired boy giggles, “Can I see your arm?”

You glance at Draco to check that he’s okay with Scorpius seeing your tattoo. Draco nods and you hold out your arm for Scorpius to gaze at your tattoo.

He reaches out a small finger, running it over the ink gently, “Did it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Not a bit.”

“Dad has a tattoo.”

You stiffen at his words; so does Draco.

The Dark Mark that mars Draco’s arm wasn’t spoken about when it was placed on his forearm, and it wasn’t spoken about now. It has been years since the Dark Lord was vanquished by Harry Potter yet his mark upon the house of Malfoy had definitely been left.

“It’s pale but I’ve seen it.”

Draco clears his throat, saying somewhat brokenly, “Dinner is almost ready. Go clean up, squirt.”

You help Scorpius down from the stool; grinning as he rushes away to the downstairs bathroom to wash his hands before dinner.

As soon as he’s left, you turn your attention back to Draco who’s stirring the pan of pasta quietly, “I’m sorry, Draco.”

“For what?” He asks incredulously.

“For showing him my tattoo. I didn’t think he would bring up yours.”

Draco shrugs, “It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it, and like squirt said, it’s pretty faded now.”

You nod, “I’m glad. Where do you keep your plates? I’ll grab them for you.”

“Second cupboard on from the fridge. There’s a small plastic one for Scorpius there too.”

You grab the three plates, wandering back to where Draco is adding the pasta to the sauce simmering away in the pan. Scorpius rushes back into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table by the window.

“Show us your hands, squirt. Are they clean?”

Scorpius holds his hands up, waving them at his father. Draco squints, pretending to look over his son’s hands with extra care, “Very good. Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes!” Scorpius shouts, legs kicking under the table.

Draco laughs, “Well it’s a good thing it’s ready then!”

Draco takes over yours and Scorpius’ plates first before grabbing his and the cutlery. He cuts up Scorpius’ pasta before settling in his own seat and starting to eat.

“This is so tasty,” You compliment, “One of the best meals I’ve had.”

Scorpius nods rapidly, working through his own mouthful before saying, “Dad is the best cook! You should try his pancakes!”

“Thanks, squirt,” Draco replies, smiling at him.

“I’ll have to try those pancakes one day,” You murmur, casting a side glance at the blonde-haired man sat to your left.

“I think you will,” He replies, effectively knocking the breath out of you.

Of course, you would rekindle feelings for your teenage crush when he’s now a widow and a father. You wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you focus your gaze back to your meal.

The dinner is soon over, and the plates are cleared away to the sink where they’ll be washed after dessert.

Dessert is a slice of chocolate cake and ice cream; a treat from Narcissa. Scorpius makes as much conversation as he can; telling his father and you about the day he had at his grandparents where he learnt about the mystical celts and Stonehenge. Soon, though, his eyes start to droop and his final spoonful of cake clatters to the plate.

Draco scoops up his son; cradling in his arms as he once did those years ago. Draco murmurs an apology to you as he carries his son from the kitchen to his room,  but you wave him away.

To help, you collect the plates and start running the hot water, adding dish soap as you go. You’re almost finished with the final plate when Draco returns from putting Scorpius to bed.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

You shrug, “I don’t mind – it makes me feel useful.”

“Alright. You washed, I’ll dry,” Draco bargains; grabbing the tea towel from the counter and picking up the first plate.

“Did he fall asleep okay?” You question.

Draco nods, “Out like a light, I had put his pyjamas on for him.”

You chuckle, “Bless him.”

“He really likes you,” Draco comments.

“Well, what’s not to like?” You quip, grinning, “I really like him too. He’s a credit to you, Draco.”

Draco finishes drying the final plate; putting them back in their assigned cupboard.

“Thank you. Would you like a drink, or do you need to be at work early?”

“I do, but I’d like that drink.”

Draco pulls two glasses from the display before reaching for a bottle of red wine. You already knew that you would wake up tomorrow with a headache, but it was worth it to spend more time with him.

Draco pours two glasses before handing one to you. He grabs the bottle and his glass, leading you to the living room across the foyer.

You take a seat on the maroon couch, taking a drink of wine before placing the glass on a coaster.

“Thank you for the meal. It was delicious. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“That is all part of Narcissa Malfoy’s rearing of a good husband. She started teaching me to cook before I left for Hogwarts and would give me lessons every school holiday.”

“Well, you’re very good. I’ll be thinking of that pasta for days.”

Draco smiles at you from over the rim of his wine glass and your stomach flips.

“Why did you tell your mother that it was just dinner?” You question, referring to the incident earlier at Malfoy Manor. You take another sip of wine, watching Draco the whole time.

“Mother has it in her mind that it’s time for me to find someone new. She worries that I’ve been alone too long,” Draco drawls wryly.

“What do you think?”

Draco swishes the remaining wine in his glass; reaching for the bottle to refill.

“I don’t know,” is his answer as he tops off your glass too.

“Are you lonely?”

“You really are a journalist, aren’t you?” He teases.

You roll your eyes, smiling, “Are you though? Lonely?”

Draco locks eyes with you; the answer is on the tip of his tongue, ready to make its entrance but he’s interrupted by the cry of his son.

Wine glasses are placed hurriedly as you both rush to the young boy’s room; his cries getting louder.

The both of you fall into the room in a hurry; desperate to help Scorpius. Draco shakes his shoulders, bringing him back to reality.

“Scorpius, Scorpius – it’s okay, open your eyes.”

“Dad?” Scorpius asks; his voice a sob.

“It’s me, squirt. I’m here.”

Scorpius opens his arms for his father. Draco picks him up with no hesitation; cuddling his son to his side – drying his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“It sounded like a bad one,” Draco comments.

Scorpius nods, “I don’t want to go back to sleep, I’m scared.”

Draco looks torn in two. On the one hand, Scorpius needs to sleep otherwise he’ll be as cranky as a Hungarian Horntail tomorrow. However, on the other hand, Draco won’t force Scorpius back into another nightmare by insisting he sleep.”

You step forward, perching on the end of Scorpius’ bed, “I have an idea, but you need to be all comfortable and cosy, okay?”

Scorpius nods timidly; rearranging himself against Draco’s side, cuddling his beloved teddy tighter.

“Are you cosy?”

He nods once more.

“Okay, I’ll begin: Once upon a time in a far off land there lived a king who was very lonely. He had tried for years and years to meet the love of his life, but he felt defeated for he hadn’t found the one…”

It takes over an hour – three stories and two muggle songs before Scorpius is soundly sleeping once again.

Draco shifts him with the expertise of a parent before leaving his bedroom with you in tow.

He goes to close the door, but you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him. “Leave it open two,” you start, “the light from the landing will comfort him a little if he has another nightmare.”

Draco leaves the door open a crack. Turning to you, he says, “I don’t know why I never thought of that.”

You shrug, “It’s something my mum used to do for me.”

“You were incredible in there by the way,” Draco compliments as you descend the stairs together.

“Thank you,” You murmur shyly.

“Where did you learn those stories and songs?” He asks, “I feel like I should take notes for next time,” he chuckles half-heartedly.

You laugh too, “The stories I made up years ago and the songs are muggle ones I heard on my travels. I used to babysit my younger cousins for extra pocket money – I got to be creative very quickly.”

“Well it paid off,” Draco comments, eyes flickering to the stairs.

“It certainly did,” You murmur; eyes following Draco’s.

It’s silent for a few moments; the both of you thinking of the other without the other knowing. You, terrified to tell him for the fear of rejection. Him, terrified about letting down his dead wife.

You both go to speak at the same time and promptly burst into quiet laughter.

Through the span of the conversation, you’ve gravitated towards Draco – bodies angled towards each other, hands close to touching, heads close together.

If you leaned forward an inch, your mouth would be on his.

The alcohol coursing through your veins makes the connection for you as in the next second, you’ve leant forward and attached your lips to Draco’s.

He doesn’t respond at first; too in shock by your boldness but when you’re about to pull away, he wraps a hand in your hair, keeping your mouth pressed to his. Lips glide together seamlessly. He bites down on your lower lip, making you gasp. He deepens the kiss then; shifting on the couch to press you further into it.

Your hand make their way into his hair, and Draco groans against your mouth at the feel.

But it’s all too much and you need to pull away.

Chest heaving, you drag your mouth away from Draco’s. He nuzzles his nose into your cheek, pressing little kisses across your jawline to your ear before sitting back up.

“I didn’t expect that,” You gasp.

“Neither did I, but I’m not mad about it.”

“You aren’t? I did just jump you.”

Draco laughs, “It would have happened sooner or later.”

“Really?” You ask; a note of happiness unmistakable in your voice.

Draco nods, running his thumb across your lips, relishing in the fact that they’re swollen because of him.

The wine has gone to your head, and you feel your eyes begin to droop before the first yawn hits. You sigh, pulling away from Draco’s distracting touch, “I think I better head off.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to leave.”

“Why, do you want me to stay, Draco?” You tease.

He nods, “I can’t offer much, but this couch is really comfy.”

“And where will you be sleeping?” You ask; the wine making you more brash.

Draco blushes. You take back your words, “I’m sorry, Draco. Red wine goes straight to my head.”

“Don’t be, it’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. I just propositioned you and all we’ve done is kiss,” You groan, dropping your head into your hands.

Draco pulls your hands away from your face, “(Y/N), it’s fine, really. The blanket on the back of the couch is really warm; grab it will you?”

You feel your face heat as you reach for the large grey blanket draped over the back of the couch. Draco stands momentarily to toe off his shoes before settling back down on the couch. You slip off your own shoes before clambering onto the couch next to him.

This was all so intimate.

Draco throws the large blanket over you both. Once suitably covered, his arm slips around your waist and your hand rests on his chest.

Neither of you say anything. No words need to be spoken now; everything expressed through actions alone.

With a kiss to the top of your head, Draco falls asleep unafraid of what he’ll meet in the morning.

--------

It’s the sunlight that wakes you. Bright light warming your face; you flutter your eyes open to find you face to face with Draco’s chest. Neither of you had moved in night; if anything, becoming closer together. At some point, his legs had tangled with yours and your hand had gripped his shirt so tight, it came away wrinkled when you loosened your grip.

You sigh happily; then you glance at the clock on the mantle piece where the hands make it abundantly clear that you were going to be late for work.

Extracting yourself carefully from Draco’s hold, you pick up your shoes from the floor. You search quickly for a spare piece of paper and a pen; scrawling a note for Draco to read when he wakes.

With one last look at the man you had fallen for in such a short amount of time, you apparated away.

-----

Draco wakes not long after you leave; feeling oddly light without the weight of your body pressed up against him. He frowns when he realises that you’ve left without a goodbye but with a glance at the clock, he doesn’t have much time to worry about it.

Scorpius would be awake any minute and demanding breakfast.

Draco sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It had been so long since he had slept with someone by his side; wrapped around him the way you were, and he was happy to admit, he had missed the feeling of another human pressed so tightly against him, he could feel every contour in their body.

He almost falls off the couch when he notices your note lying on the table. He grabs it with shaking hands:

“Had to go to work – meet me for lunch if you can? Thank you for last night. You still owe me pancakes – (Y/N).”

He feels like a teenager again experiencing the rush of his first crush. He runs a hand across his face; standing up to get a start on breakfast. He folds your note in two before sliding it into his wallet for safekeeping.

It’s then that Draco realises he has two things he needs to do.

-----

Draco drops Scorpius off at Astoria’s parents for the morning. Apologising to his son for bailing on their plans of the park and the library; Scorpius simply pats his father’s face in goodbye before running to his grandma and grandad Greengrass.

Draco waves at his in-laws before apparating to see their daughter.

-----

The graveyard looks entirely different, but Draco knows nothing has changed. What has changed is him, and he need to tell Astoria.

Kneeling in his usual place in front of her grave, Draco releases a shaky breath.

“Hi darling, I know I’m early for our visit, but I have something important to discuss with you,” He looks down at his hands before continuing, “I think I’ve met someone, and I really want to pursue it. I want to see where it goes.

“You have to understand, darling, I never thought I would love again after you. I really didn’t and for three years, I’ve been an island with just enough room for Scorpius. I didn’t expect it, but it happened, and I like the way (Y/N) makes me feel. I feel excited again; my hands are shaking from the very thought.

“Scorpius likes her by the way, and she likes him, but they both know they won’t ever fill the role that you were supposed to. And I think they’re both happy with that knowledge.

“I’m not asking for your permission, but I am asking for your forgiveness. For not loving you harder; for not taking more time to be with you; for not apologising immediately after every argument. But I’m ready to start living again and I’ve found someone that makes me want to live again; that incites that spark of life within me, and I desperately want to see where it goes.  

“I haven’t seen you in a while; around the house. I think you realised what was happening before I did and finally made your peace with it. I can’t ever forget you and our time. I see whenever I look at our little boy, but I’m ready to begin again, and so I shall.”

Draco stands from the grave feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had to speak to Astoria before he could speak to you; he had tell her his choice but to reassure that he would always love her, but his heart was ready to make room for another person.

And that person was you.

With one last glance at the marble headstone, Draco apparates to Diagon Alley.

----------

The offices to the Daily Prophet newspaper lie in a side street just off the high street. He signs in at reception but asks the receptionist not to alert you of his presence. The receptionist flushes when she realises that she’s now part of a romantic plot. Draco smiles at her gratefully as he makes his way to the main lift, asking for your floor.

He taps his foot the entire ride up to your floor, annoying every single person in the lift with him. But he can’t help it; he’s both excited and nervous.

In a few moments, he’s changing the direction of his life forever, and he couldn’t feel more ready to start.

The door opens on your floor and Draco rushes out, followed by the happy sighs of those journeying to higher floors. He wants to laugh at their reactions, but the butterflies rioting in his stomach make him feel as if he could vomit right on the muddy brown carpet.

It’s not hard to find which desk is yours by the amount of trinkets on there. Files are precariously high in one section, and then the rest of the desk bar the cream typewriter is covered by snow globes and tiny figurines of landmarks from your travels. From this first look at your desk, Draco already has a sense of what your flat will look like.

You gasp when you see Draco standing in the door to your office, “Draco, you’re early for lunch.”

Draco walks up to your desk; his hands shaking through it all, “Let me make you pancakes.”

“What?” You ask, breathless.

“Let me make you pancakes,” He repeats, “I want to make you pancakes in the morning.”

“Really?” You sniffle; tears collecting.

Draco nods, “I’m still grieving, but I always will be. However, that doesn’t mean my life needs to come to an end and I realised that I want it to continue with you by my side so… let me make you pancakes every morning.”

Tears have started to fall down your face and you sniffle before speaking, “Okay. You can make me pancakes.”

Draco beams; eyes crinkling. He leans in close to you, whispering, “Do you think you can get off early?”

You grab your bag before he finishes his sentence, “Let’s get out of here.”

Draco holds his hand out for you to take. At the feel of your skin against his, a jolt of electricity runs between you. It takes everything in him not to drag you into a kiss in the foyer of the building.

He waits until he’s in the street.

Like a gentleman.

He waits until the coast is somewhat clear before pulling you into his side and drawing your mouth to his like you did last night. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

It’s not your first kiss, and it won’t be your last, but this one kiss means the world to the both of you.

Through it all, you’ve learnt to swim.

-------

A year later:

Scorpius is almost five years old when he visits his mother’s grave for the first time in his life. He had been less than three weeks old when she was buried in the Greengrass plot

Scorpius watches as his father kneels before her first; apologising for his absence and asking for her forgiveness.

But then he looks to Scorpius; where he stands with his hand holding onto yours tightly.

Draco beckons to Scorpius with an open hand. Scorpius staggers to his father’s side immediately.

“Hi Mum,” he whispers.

Draco’s hand is firm on his son’s shoulders; a comforting presence.

“I miss you,” he starts, “I know I never got to know you, but I miss you. I have your picture in my room, so I know what you look like, and Wellesley. I’m starting school soon; a small magic school with kids like me and I’m really excited. Dad’s doing well. He was sad for a while but he’s happier now and he talks about you more with (Y/N) who I like too. I want to come back, and I think Dad will let me, so I’ll see you soon, Mum.”

And with that, Scorpius walks away, happy to have finally met the mother had wanted to meet for so long.

Draco watches his son potter back to the still creaky gate in awe. You join his side; fingers tangling in his. “How are you feeling?” You ask, watching Draco’s face.

“Happy and in love,” is Draco’s reply.

*****

Muggle songs:

Johnny Ace - Pledging My Love

Paul Anka - Put Your Head On My Shoulder

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​ @mytreec​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @teheharrypotter​ @chaoticgirl04​

Draco Malfoy taglist @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfic #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n

[mk-wizard]

Big Hero 6 The Series: It could have been better

Hello, friends. Today, I will be analyzing a TV series based on a movie that I fell in love with for its colourful themes, deep plot, compelling characters, great CGI and memorable messages. Before I get into it, I want to take a moment to say that I have quit doing videos. They are too big of a pain in the petunia to make and I write better than I speak, so I will stick to writing essays, reviews and more. Anyway, onto the analysis.

All I can say about Big Hero 6 the series is that it had a great concept, it presented some great ideas and tried hard to be a cartoon of the times, but it could have and should have been a lot better. The show’s downfall all centers around trying too hard to be kid friendly which makes the shame sting all the more because Big Hero 6 was already kid friendly even with its dark themes, sharp edges and intelligent writing. If anything, even the brightest kid friendly cartoons (Steven Universe, She-Ra, etc.) had those things and actually benefitted from them. By needlessly trying too hard, character development got scrapped, the edges were all smoothed out, storytelling was subpar, the humour was too silly and the executive meddling in the end produced a dismal final season. However, I don’t want this analysis to be one lengthy negative rant about how awful the series was because in its defense, awful is an unfair word. It did have potential and ideas which are worth carrying over to a reboot that I hope will be done someday in the future. Also, we should root for a reboot because Big Hero 6 would not be the first story that needs it before striking gold. Just look at how many times Spider-Man was rebooted in film before MCU found the version that worked. Anyway, I will list all the things in Big Hero 6 that could have been better in my opinion;

1- Go easy on the laughs and be more generous with the action. - I love adding comedy to my own writing because I think a good sense of humour makes everything better, but Big Hero 6 is not a stand up comedy routine. It is a superhero story where we expect action, suspense and life or death situations that are to be taken seriously first. The comedy should be for relief and with the right timing. Also, the chibi cutscenes and having characters act like fools aren’t funny. Ren and Stimpy are the exception not the standard and their way of making you laugh doesn’t fit an action series. In a show as big as Big Hero 6, real life physics and danger matters.

2- Make the villains menacing and gritty. - I admit that after having a movie villain like Yokai who was the stuff of nightmares, it is going to be a challenging act to follow, but it was obvious that the writers were trying especially with some villains who could have easily gone into some dark relatable territory. For example, Mr. Sparkles (the gentleman in the photo above) embodies social media and Internet personalities. Right off the bat, you have a long list of things which embody the dark side of that like scams, fraud, using social media to dox or harass, driving people to suicide, online predators, the Internet personalities being very depressed people in real life, and much more horrifying things. When you stop and look at it, Mr. Sparkles even looks like the Joker which hints how dark and scary he could have been if the stops were removed. The same goes for enemies like Hardlight who embodies online gaming, Liv with cloning, Obake an amoral and insane scientist, and Trina and Noodle Burger Boy (more on him later) being evil robots. Globby especially should have been painted and written in much darker colours rather being played off for laughs because he has many parallels with Clay Face. The only two villains who I can say were supposed to be campy, charming and comical were Baron Von Steamer and Supersonic Sue because they were a satire of the Adam West style villains.

The rest of them needed to be dark and threatening including Mr. Sparkles. In fact, I would love a rebooted version of Mr. Sparkles who gives me the heebie-jeebies. Going back to Noodle Burger Boy, I must confess that I was actually excited when I heard that he was going to be the main villain of the final season because I thought he was going to fulfill his master’s final wish and as a reminder, Noodle Burger Boy was based on a super robot for military purposes.

It would have been fantastic if Noodle Burger Boy was upgraded into a full military war machine with a new threatening look. For that, I think all of the villains deserve to be rebooted and have their full potential unlocked for better or for worse.

3- A show about geniuses merits genius level art quality. - I am usually forgiving towards art styles, but in the case of Big Hero 6, the oversimplified style with minimal details and lack of textures did not suit the show. The characters blend in with the background which makes them look flat and the special effects were extremely dulled down. I also know for a fact that Disney can do a lot better than this because I saw how superbly Tangled the Series was drawn.

You can see and almost feel the difference in quality, the number of layers and level of detail between the two styles. I think there was no excuse Big Hero 6 was not done in the same style and at the same level if not better as Tangled.

3- Don’t dumb down or flanderize amazing characters. - I absolutely detest it when characters are flanderized because it makes them one dimensional and grating. For example, Go Go is tough as nails and extremely calm, but she is not cold or hesitant towards helping her friends. She doesn’t require very special episodes for us to know that. If anything, the movie version of Go Go reminded me a lot of Garnet in how she deconstructed the broody character. She isn’t cold or emotionless. Just calm and mature. Another good example was how Honey Lemon was rewritten to be overly positive to the point of toxicity, naïve and oblivious with a juvenile obsession with stickers. Then you have poor Fred who was rewritten to be an incompetent fool. The spark that makes Big Hero 6 shine is that they are a team of geniuses meaning they are all intelligent. Even Fred is genius in his own way just not a scientific one. He has a vivid imagination, he is resourceful and can get himself out of tight spots. Please, don’t turn characters into dummies especially if their intelligence is a part of them. It doesn’t make them better or funnier. It ruins them.

4- Tadashi needs closure and honour. - I am all for Hiro making peace with the loss of his brother, but Tadashi is to the Big Hero 6 team what Uncle Ben was to Spider-Man. His loss was the catalyst if not the reason. He should never be forgotten. Moreover, there was never any true closure to him especially with the possibility that he may still be alive up in the air. After all, like Callaghan, his body was never found and it turned out that Callaghan was still alive.

With that said, who is to say that Tadashi was not secretly still alive and just hiding or being hidden? This is something that Disney really needed to clear up if not for the fans, then at least as a service to such an important character. Never just forget about them.

5- The format can only be episodic with a deep plots, continuity and character development. - Random episodes with a mere monster of the day is an outdated format which doesn’t fit Big Hero 6′s modern and bright setting. In seasons 1 and 2, when the episodes were plot heavy with character development, the series shined brightest. It also helped move the story along, but with the final season, plot was removed, closure was abandoned or poorly written if any was given, and characters were disallowed from growing. A good example at how plot and character development could have made this series and its characters better was the relationship between Hiro and Megan. Would it have truly survived or would they have broken up?

Would Richardson Mole have eventually lost interest in his obsession with besting and bullying Fred or would his obsession consume him compelling him to become a super villain? I do see quite a few similarities between Mole and Reverse Flash.

Then you have Karmi who is in my opinion, the biggest wild card of the bunch. She was intentionally introduced as an arrogant, prickly and unlikable yet complex character who rivaled Hiro bitterly.

Yet had a huge crush on his alter ego and as time went on, started to grow up and even form a friendship with Hiro. What would have happened further down the road with her? Would she have become a super hero herself? Or maybe even another love interest for Hiro kind of like how Black Cat is for Spider-Man?

Is Obake really gone?

What does the future hold Diana (Liv’s clone), Liv herself or the Sycorax the genetics company?

Is Alistair Krei going to become an ally to Big Hero 6 or an antagonist? There is also the issue at how little we know about the other Big Hero 6 characters other than Fred, Hiro and Baymax. What are Honey Lemon, Wasabi and Go Go’s backstories? These questions matter and while not every mystery can be solved, leaving none of them solved is lazy writing.

6- Executives, kindly stay out of the writing and any other part of the creative process. - I’m sorry, execs, but there is no nice way to say it. History itself proves that every time executives got involved in the creative process of any media, it got worse not better. Leave the writing to the creative team and the execs should only handle the legal stuff. Please. We understand that TV is a business, but writing itself is not. It is an art which you just don’t have a talent for. Let the creative people do their thing with the freedom necessary and you do your thing, deal? Deal.

7- Focus on Hiro and Baymax. - The are the main characters so keep them at the heart of the series no matter what happens around them. That is all I can say.

And that sums up all the things that could have made Big Hero 6 the series better, but this is all just my opinion. What is yours?

PS: I am well aware that the Big Hero 6 series is being retconned because a new series called Baymax is in the works as well as the long awaited sequel to the first movie. I am looking forward to both with an open mind. PPS: I also am aware that some people liked this show the way it was including the art style and I am cool with that. An analysis for art that includes cartoons is never right or wrong. It is solely based on opinion. I may have thought this series could have been better, but there are people who make arguments that it could have been worse.

#big hero 6 #big hero 6 hiro #big hero 6 the series #big hero 6 wasabi #big hero 6 fred #big hero 6 gogo #big hero 6 tadashi #big hero 6 baymax #baymax #hiro #tadashi #honey lemon #gogo #krei #obake #noodle burger boy #analysis #character analysis #diane #live #sycorax #karmi #megan #richardson mole #reboot #sequel

[americachavez]

did cas really tell dean to kneel before their new god? did that actually happen? i thought him beating the shit out of dean in that alley was the most unrestrainedly horny thing this show had ever done ACTUALLY you know what scratch that new question: top horny moments from the cw's supernatural (2005 - 2020)

getting this ask feels like my sins of the last week have been weighed against the Trials I Have Gone Through since the premier of supernatural on the wb in september of 2005 and I’m not sure if it is a punishment or reward

some notes before we begin:

the ep with dean’s male siren was like, conceptually horny but not actually that horny because the dude was uglie. I’m sorry to this man

all you sam girls out there. I respect you but I do not respect jared padalecki who is JUST tall and has zero sex appeal. but those eps where he’s like, drinking ruby’s blood and then eating her pussy are. you know. I’ll give you that

I am ONLY UP TO SEASON 10 so fair warning this is not comprehensive but the horniness does seem to drop off sharply after the mark of cain is no longer in play lol gotta love a good demon murder tattoo plot

this is easily the most insane thing I’ve ever done, including the destiel manifesto

S1 EP12: the scene where dean gets healed by the faith healer, on his knees with a hand in his hair and looking somewhere between religious ecstasy, brain death and an orgasm. starting this list off great

S1 EP22: azazel possessing john winchester. no I will not explain further if u know u know <3

S3 EP10: dean being taunted by a dream version of himself, this is where we first got the daddy’s blunt little instrument line. still burned in my hippocampus a good 13 years later thank yew

S4 EP1: dean crawling out of his own grave covered in grave dirt. hot. the HANDPRINT. HOT. also tangent but this reveal after the s3 finale was WILD back in 2008 I hollered in my dorm room after canvassing for obama. simpler times man

S4 EP 1: cas’ intro scene. the barn. the shadow wings. the hair??? getting stabbed in the chest by the man you just pulled out of hell. getting aaaallll up in that personal space. his little eyebrow. “you don’t think you deserve to be saved.” OUTRAGEOUSLY FLAMING

S4 EP02: “I dragged you out of hell I can throw you back in.” <<< this angel tops. mark dean down as scared and horny etc

S4 EP16: this ENTIRE EPISODE but specifically the part where dean tortures alastair as some kind of foreplay and then alastair kicks his ass. carved you into a new animal. jesus.

S4 EP16: wait I forgot about the part where cas also gets his ass kicked and looks all....hm. dazed and covered in blood while he’s on his knees and about to die. yeah.

S5 EP4: I mean this entire ep is unfairly horny considering everyone is dying of a zombie plague and hasn’t showered in like, 4 years but if I had to pick one hmmm. the dean/dean interrogation scene with the panty kink yeah I know it’s not original but hm. it happened. also misha collins just being able to convey that CAS IS A FLEXIBLE SLUT with a single roll of his shoulders. who SAYS this man can’t act!!!!!

S5 EP18: the ALLEY SCENE. DEAN DOESN’T FIGHT BACK. CAS HOLDS HIM UP OFF THE GROUND AND THEN THROWS HIM ACROSS THE ALLEY. WHY DID EVERYONE THINK CAS COULDN’T TOP. you all had brainworms.

S5 EP18: when cas locks dean in the panic room to stop him from saying yes to michael and “well cas not for nothing but the last person who looked at me like that I got laid” I hate this show. wait I think the blow me cas line is in this episode too what the fuck were they on here

S6 EP5: the scene where dean gets turned into a vampire. between the old dude who I think calls dean a pretty boy (??) and soulless sam....watching??? no ******* but there were just some absolutely foul energies in that scene and I still do not understand WHAT they were thinking

S6 EP20: cas doing a double smite on two demons by slamming them to the ground and then shoving another demon back in its vessel and then smiting him in the same motion. TOP. ENERGY.

S6 EP22: season 6 is possibly cas’ horniest season because he’s like, going through angel puberty after getting his first boner for dean, but the final cas eps are. whoof. cas eats a bunch of souls and proclaims himself to be a new god in order to handle said boner, and then the season ends with cas telling them to bow down and profess their love to him, their new lord, or he will destroy them. note: the way this is framed makes it look like cas is only staring at dean while he says this, even though sam and bobby are also there. the season ends with dramatic zooms on both cas and dean’s faces respectively. this made me actively regret ditching this show after s5 lol

S8 EP??: literally EVERY SINGLE PURGATORY FLASHBACK. cas dean and benny are all purgatory hot in the “pop 10 cranberry pills and risk the UTI” kind of way but also. dean being the hot girl bottom between two tops who hate each other. I really. whew. I need to go take a shower.

S8 EP17: if I get canceled for including the crypt scene on this list I blame you bud. but dean on his knees begging a brainwashed cas to stop killing him WAS sexy. how many times has dean been on his knees in this list wait there’s another one coming up next jsldjfsldkjf

S9 EP2: abaddon getting dean on his knees (YEAH) and pulling his hair and praising him for always coming when called HELLO???? the only thing that ruins this is dean says “I can’t tell if we’re gonna fight or make out” because this is the CW and they won’t let him say fuck

S9 EP6: ah. this entire episode is Emotionally Horny but the horny horny part is when they’re in the car and dean is telling cas to unbutton his shirt and. watches. I know this was on my destiel manifesto but I need it here too

S9 EP9: cas, covered in blood, slitting another angel’s throat and eating his grace after getting tortured. that shot alone made me understand why this website was so goddamn horny for misha collins for nearly a damn decade

S9 EP11: MARK OF CAIN BABEY. cain watching dean beat up a bunch of demons as an audition for taking on the mark, while crowley also is a fucking voyeur to the whole thing. cain is also a hot silver fox with daddy energies. I said what I said

S9 EP 16: dean getting the first blade. he’s chained to a pillar and being menaced by a foppish dandy who wants to add him to his “collection” (WOW). dean then kills him with the blade and whew. murder is sexy sometimes

S9 EP21: dean being pinned against a wall by abaddon’s power, then using the mark of cain to break her hold, calling the first blade to him psychically and then killing her. god the mark of cain is hot

S9 EP23: dean waking up with the demon eyes NUT

S10 EP2: demon dean beating up that dude with the boring backstory and kicking his ass. really was a go on baby I got your flower moment because I hated that dude and I love demon dean

S10 EP3: demon dean being chained up and taunting sam about how his brother is gone, then hunting sam through the bunker. demon dean in general was VERY fun for me, someone who loves trash

S10 EP9: dean going berserk and killing a bunch of pedophile rapists/child abusers. I’m sorry I know this show is trying to preach morality at me about monsters and unnecessary murder and humanity or whatever but we blew past that like 8 SEASONS AGO. also the mark of cain is sexy

S10 EP14: the rest of this list is really gonna be mark of cain stuff isn’t it look I’m here to have fun. cain and dean’s fight. cain continuously tossing his mane of hair back and taunting dean with the picture of what he’s going to become, who he’s going to kill. dean begging cain to tell him that he can stop, and then ultimately killing him. rip daddy.

S11 EP4: again I have not watched this however. every shot of this episode is PRESTIGE TELEVISION because driving a muscle car is sexy. and especially the shot of dean all beat to hell and begging his car to start and giving her a little kiss from his fingers to her dash. ugh. masculinity.

S12 EP10: the bearded salt-and-pepper daddy look returns, only it’s an angel this time and he’s wearing a vest and shirtsleeves and he swordfights with a hot redheaded lady in a suit and an eyepatch. this show is good sometimes!!! and oh fuck lol I just realized this is the same guy who played krissy’s hot hunter dad in s7 probably the first guy who’s hotter as an angel than a hunter. huh.

S12 EP 11: dean riding larry the mechanical bull to “broomstick cowboy.” I have no idea where this factors into the ep but I have seen. the youtube clip

S13 EP23: from what I can tell s13 is way more emotionally horny than boner horny, although dean burning cas’ body was sexy. but the horniest part was dean saying yes to michael and then michael taking over and saying “thanks for the suit.” we are going to ignore the silliest fight scene in existence as well as the final shot ending on a FREEZE FRAME like a goddamn tiktok

S14: not gonna pick a specific moment because I have not watched yet!!! but michael dean is hot. idk why michael is weirdly hot and I cannot stand any iteration of lucifer on this television programme. it should be the reverse but I’m forever an older sibling stan apparently. someone who is catholic could probably explain this better.

S15 EP13: genevieve padalecki and danneel ackles fight flirting as ruby and anael I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY HELD OUT ON THIS TILL THE LAST SEASON

I know I am missing things but this is already an absolutely incomprehensible screed. I know I’m missing shit from the latter seasons but give me time I’m pacing myself

#reply tag #spn tag #literally no one read this lol this is insane #Anonymous

[dateamonster]

i, for one, would love to hear your deep read of zombieland saga *eyes emoji*

ok i just got through lowkey ranting about zls (mostly abt how much i love junko this season) to my friend so i think im sufficiently warmed up to make a first class fool of myself on the internet by becoming another Guy Who Get s Heated About Anime

so i’ve been thinking abt this a lot since zls revenge came out- and just in general but i mean given this season is literally called Revenge it now feels especially relevant to talk about zls as a story about second chances and seeking personal growth after hitting absolute rock bottom. like in this case that rock bottom is obviously death, the greatest low you can achieve, but its also not just that i dont think. bear with me.

the zombie angle is obvi crucial to the show like its the hook its twist its the instigator for a lot of the wacky situations and hijinks and such but its also? not super necessary sometimes? or at least it feels that way. what i mean is the show is so much about the characters and their personal arcs in a way that i find so human and relatable that i sometimes legit forget this is a show about zombie pop idols

even the overarching goal that drives the plot forward of “saving saga” (though i feel like we still dont know everything there is to know abt that) has to do with this theme of second chances. its a story about comebacks, about trying to breathe life into something that seems dead. thats maybe sort of obvious, but its been hitting me how much that like core thesis informs the characters and makes their own resurrections feel.. more personal ya know?

sakura loses her shot at her dream in a split second accident and for a while isnt even able to process that because of her lost memories, while ai was at the top of her game when she died and now has to watch her former friends and fans move on without her, and lily was a child star who was literally killed by her commitment to making other people happy, only finding her love of performing again after her death. franchouchou and the mission to save saga was the reason all the girls were brought back from the dead, but it also becomes their second chances in that it gives them a reason to keep trying in the face of loss after loss.

its a funny cute show but its also got some pretty grim stuff baked right into the foundation and i think the reason it works and doesnt feel super tonally dissonant is because its so consistently heartfelt. its so easy to get sick of shows with “never give up!” type messages when it feels like the characters triumphs are assured and their struggles only ever temporary, but it never really feels that certain for franchouchou, and the losses they face send ripples of fear and doubt through its members that come back into play the next time the group is put to the test. junko doesnt lose all her anxieties after one successful show, and the way saki, who prides herself in her sense of strength and rebellious nature, struggles to contend with change and situations outside her control still feels as real every time because imo theres an understanding that that stuff leaves lasting marks, even to the resurrected, even to a zombie.

not to go even more off the rails than i already have, but i think its really interesting the many different ways zombies as a type of monster are portrayed and the way zls relates to that. the common thread as i see it, if such a thing can rly exist, is this fear of decay. not even necessarily death itself but degradation, deterioration, the processes through which every person is stripped of what makes them themselves, reduced to a husk with only the most base instincts still intact, moving around and affecting some pale imitation of life but completely empty inside.

zls as a zombie story is interesting to me because while i think those sort of fears are still present (the scene recently where saki fully realizes she’ll never get to grow up still strikes me as incredibly dark for the episode it was in, though im not saying thats a bad thing) zls supposes that a person can indeed overcome that state of decay.

it doesnt treat the idea lightly; positive change is HARD and a thousand times more so for these characters who have already reached what should have been their lives natural conclusion. the sorta thesis i feel like zls and particularly revenge are presenting is that personal growth is a constant battle against the path of least resistance, the predisposition towards stagnation or defeatism that occurs after a traumatic loss. it’s not enough to be handed a second chance, you’re still just another mindless zombie until you decide to try and be more, and even then you have to keep making that choice every day that youre alive.

so yea hopefully this doesnt all read as some totally insane Reach but like once again, it may not necessarily be that deep, but it COULD be. and thats whats important to me <3

#ask #zombieland saga #zombieland saga revenge #thank you for coming to my ted talk #special midnight edition #because it is literally five past twelve for me rn #Anonymous

[kodzumie-archived]

can you do some yandere!mikan nsfw hcs?

❝YANDERE! NSFW❞

Synopsis; Yandere Mikan certainly is a freaky one, isn’t she?

Featuring; Mikan Tsumiki x GN! Reader

Warning(s); Yandere themes, nonconsensual somnophilia, drugging, manipulation, blood (taking of blood samples), blood kink, consumption of blood, cum eating, mentions of piss (watersports), masturbation, use of sex toys, mentions of needles, and intentional misuse of medical supplies. (Things do get pretty fucked and gross, please pay attention to the warnings!)

Kodzumie’s Note; Absolutely! Thanks for your request, and I hope you’re doing well. Muah! <3

➤ MIKAN TSUMIKI

⤷ She’s calculating and rapacious; plotting all the ways she can get you to succumb to her. She practically thrives in the vulnerability you’ve unknowingly put upon yourself due to the blind trust you’ve put in her.

⤷ As hopelessly in love as she was, Mikan was aware; she knew that it was far too soon and sudden to formally ask you to engage in such bare intimacy with her. She was also aware of the possibility that you wouldn’t even want to do something so lewd with her.

⤷ But she can’t help herself. So much has been taken from her by those who’ve recognized her weaknesses, her bullies taking anything and everything as she’s unable to do a thing. Isn’t it only right that she’s a little selfish?

⤷ It’s not like you’d mind, of course. You can’t mind something if you don’t even know it’s happening, right?

⤷ Mikan’s desires surge through her with insuppressible fervor. Yet she wouldn’t dare do something so reckless; she wouldn’t dare run the risk of tarnishing your treasured friendship.

⤷ So she covers her tracks. She takes full advantage of your trust within her as a friend and the faith you’ve put within her talents as a nurse. A common tactic she’s picked up is replacing the sugar within your tea—which she orders you to drink to retain good health—with a finely powdered drug; their appearances akin with only a minuscule difference.

⤷ After drinking, you’ll subconsciously succumb to the effects of the drug within fifteen minutes, and then she’ll begin her ministrations; pampering your unconscious body and exploring your most intimate realms.

⤷ A hidden utopia reserved for only the eyes of those you’ve allowed seeing you so bare; so exposed. And, even if you hadn’t known it, Mikan was those eyes. Peering down at you so sickeningly gleefully as she thinks to herself; Your body, sprawled beneath her, was all for her.

⤷ As you’re knocked out, there isn’t an inch of skin she doesn’t smother in sloppy, wet kisses. Her breathing rapid and crazed.

⤷ She savors each moment; relishing in your taste as she sears the memory of every sensation into her core memories. She will never allow herself to forget the blissful oasis of her beloved’s body.

⤷ At first, you’d only assumed that your state of fatigue and extreme exhaustion were the aftermaths of stress. It was understandable; that week had been your finals week.

⤷ And yet, it kept happening; moments where you feel fine, but then you’ll experience powerful waves of nausea before slipping unconscious. So much so, that you asked Mikan about it, of course. She was the Ultimate Nurse, after all.

⤷ Just like you expected, she managed to deduce the possible reasonings behind your experiences. Even going as far as to pinpoint habits that are a common occurrence before you fall into such a vertiginous state.

⤷ “W-Well, typically it’s when you’ve consumed a beverage with sugar.” She deducted, a thoughtful visage as her soft features sharpened with determination. “If I remember right, you’d felt particularly nauseous after you drank tea with sugar that one time.”

⤷ “That can’t be a coincidence though! It happened another time too. Remember when I gave you those sugar cookies? You fell unconscious from those too...” She ponders, her bottom lip jutting out in thought. Your eyes widen as the dots connect internally. That is true, all the instances had been induced as you’d consumed anything with sugar.

⤷ “If you’d like—“ Mikan’s voice cuts out as she nervously squirms under your curious gaze, her hesitant nature bringing a smile to your lips. “Take your time.” You assure her, placing your hand over hers to, hopefully, calm her nerves. If only you knew what you did to her and her poor little heart.

⤷ “W-Well I just thought that if I took some blood samples, I-I could confirm my suspicions!” She exclaims, cheeks flushed as her gaze remained fixated on your hand atop her own.

⤷ Your eyes widen once more as they glimmer with surprise and appreciation. “Would you really do that for me?!” She’s taken aback by your exclamation, accidentally tearing her hand from yours as she falls backs.

⤷ But she’s quick to recover, smile faltering at the lost connection of your hand with hers. “Of course!” She confesses.

⤷ And that’s how it began, her odd secondary obsession. Behind you, of course.

⤷ You hadn’t given her suggestions much thought other than that you trust Mikan, and what she was doing was simply what’s best for you. This was her talent, her field. If you couldn’t trust her with what she did best, who could you possibly trust?

⤷ So she began taking samples of your blood. At first, it was only a weekly thing. Once a week, she’d draw out enough blood to fill a miniature capsule and examine it to determine the underlying causes for your sudden fits of falling unconscious. Though she was more than aware of the true reason.

⤷ For each blood sample she took, she returned to you with the discovery that the amount of glucose within your blood was alarmingly high, and that her hypothesis was, in fact, correct.

⤷ But that’s all lies. Lies, lies, lies that you oh-so-helplessly believe. Mikan’s the nurse, she knows best. Mikan knows best, Mikan knows best, Mikan knows best!

⤷ Regardless, you believed her. And you provided her the weekly blood samples as she instructed. Though it was a bit tedious to have the pricking of a needle within your arm so often, it was better than randomly passing out at the most unfortunate of times.

⤷ Once she collected the capsules, she informed you that she’d take them back to her house where she can perform more thorough research. Since all of her equipment is there, of course!

⤷ You don’t question it. Not even as you wonder what she’d done with the capsules after weeks of no word of them. Surely she threw them away. You shouldn’t question her, you trust her, after all!

⤷ If only you’d questioned her. If only you’d taken the second to doubt her; debunk your trust in her. Perhaps then you’d have realized the red flags within everything.

⤷ Within the confines of her bedroom, Mikan’s moans are barely concealed as she unscrews the capsule filled with the familiar crimson liquid; your blood.

⤷ Her mind fuzzy with idea of her possessing such a fluid. Your fluid, of all things. Her obsession fueled further as she coats her fingers in the viscous liquid. It was still warm, still so fresh from within you. The thought of how this blood was once within your body sends jolts of depraved pleasure down her spine.

⤷ She lathers the blood around her fingers, savoring the sensation. A shaky sigh of ecstasy escaping her lips as she stutters out a moan. Everything was so overwhelming at that moment. She was in disbelief, yet oh-so alarmingly aware. This was your blood. This was your blood.

⤷ “Ha...Aha!” A delirious moan escaping her lips as she swirls her blood-coated fingers over her clit. The stimulation paired with the searing reminder that it was your blood beginning to smear over her clit instantly sent tremors through her legs.

⤷ The pleasure felt so intense; so very intense. Even as she has pumps two fingers into her pussy, stretching herself out as your blood coats her walls, it all felt so intense. Almost unbearable. The feeling of your blood within her driving her to the brink of insanity as if she hadn’t already plunged into the abyss of madness.

⤷ Yet even as her fingers continued to plunge into her sopping cunt—her slick blending with your blood—she couldn’t help but yearn for more. She wanted to have your blood coat her walls entirely. And her petite fingers simply wouldn’t do.

⤷ Thankfully, she has just the thing. Within her hands she cradles a dildo, having already removed her two digits from her cunt as she eagerly drags her fist down the girth of the toy. It’s lengthy. Good.

⤷ She grabs the previously discarded capsule which still witheld blood. Perfect; everything was perfect.

⤷ Mikan tilted the small bottle, drizzling the viscous crimson fluid as it glazed over the dildo, painting its pink exterior in a contrasting red.

⤷ As the bottle emptied, the last of your blood poured onto the toy, an eerie giggle escaped Mikan’s lips. Her eyes swirling with psychotic euphoria as she pumped the blood upon the length of the dildo. Successfully smearing the blood all over the toy, not a trace left untouched.

⤷ Her breathing turned erratic. Huffs of air forced from her lungs as she sunk onto the blood-coated toy. It stung; the stretch searing through her senses as she gasped, squiriming in discomfort. And yet, it felt so damn good.

⤷ Your blood was inside her, your blood was inside her, your blood was inside her, your blood was inside her, your blood was inside her—

⤷ The idea driving her mad as she bounced, squelching air bubbles caused by the drool of her pussy mixed with the blood, arousal poisoning the air as she released an unsettling laugh, moaning mid-way through.

⤷ This was it. This was true happiness! To be filled with your fluids, no matter what they made be. Stuffing her pussy full of you and anything reminescent of you. This was true ecstasy.

⤷ The blood upon the tip of the dildo nuzzling against her cervix—painfully—yet smearing your blood deep within her.

⤷ It’s painful. Her thighs ache as she bounces, yet she craves the stimulation; the pleasure. It’s so overwhelming she trembles, shaking until she’s attempting to squirm and retreat from the toy as her orgasm begins to bubble within her stomach, ready to boil over.

⤷ And so, the string snaps; her climax washing over her with violent shudders and breathless sobs. Her cum oozing around the base of the dildo as the length remains snuggled within her clenching pussy.

⤷ Mikan breathes heavily, shifting her weight to ease her knees as she moans. Every movement forced a jolt down her spine, her cunt throbbing with sensitivity.

⤷ Her fingers delicately brush over her stretched slit, toy still buried within her as she dabs her digit in the mess, coating her fingers in her cum mixed with your blood.

⤷ It was a rosy hue; the translucent, milky white of her orgasm and your deep vermillion blood mixed together. The dew an embodiment of the connection you and her shared; your shared fluids mixed into an addictive concoction.

⤷ Mikan brings her fingers to her lips, sucking on the mixture as she licks her digits clean. It tastes so good; it tastes like love. It tastes precisely like the bond you two shared, a bittersweet cocktail.

⤷ And as she layed spewing your combined mixture of love—an unknowing commitment and the blossoming of yet another depraved addiction—she couldn’t help but grin. She couldn’t wait for how many more times she’d pleasure herself with your fluids.

⤷ What more could she take from you? What more could she use to satisfy her needs, yet keeping a piece of you with her? She wanted more. She needed more. But she knew better than to be impatient.

⤷ One day, you’ll willingly engage in such ludicrous acts with her. One day, you’ll provide her with whichever fluid she selects; blood, cum, spit. Hell, she’d even accept your piss. She just wanted more of you, you, you!

⤷ She’ll wait. She’d wait a millenial for you; lifetimes. If it’s for you, she’ll do anything and everything. But for now, she’ll settle on waiting; waiting as your blood coats the valleys of her pussy’s walls. If she can’t get you, she’ll get the next best thing.

#yandere #tw yandere #sdr2 x reader #dr2 x reader #mikan x reader #mikan tsumiki x reader #danganronpa x reader #mikan hcs #mikan headcanons #mikan imagines #danganronpa hcs #danganronpa scenarios #danganronpa imagines

[rhysismydaddy]

Fanny Pack Sexiness (Nessian Smut)

Prompt: *sensually unclips fanny pack* this is weird, i know. but i just saw a tweet and i thought if anyone could write this, it would be you.

Laughed so hard when I read this. If this isn’t Nessian, I don’t know what is. NSFW warning because I do love a fanny pack moment ;)

_________________________________________________________

Nesta glared out the window, keeping her unspoken vow to not look over at the atrocity that was her boyfriend. 

Well, that wasn’t not fair. 

The boyfriend himself was actually pretty nice to look at. 

Broad shoulders, a tall frame filled with meaty muscle, curly brown hair, and golden eyes made him interesting enough, she supposed. 

But it was what the bastard had chosen to wear that had driven her insane all day. 

The monstrosity was strapped around his waist currently, and she could’ve sworn it was laughing up at her. 

Consider this the first and last time she would ever travel with him. 

Because since it wasn’t obvious enough they were American, Cassian had chosen to wear a fanny pack. Over an I <3 LONDON shirt. Which he’d paired with khakis. 

He looked like the cover of a tourist’s guide made for forty year-old, single men who lived with their mothers. 

And she knew it was at least partly her fault he was dressed so stupidly, but she refused to apologize. 

Last night, they’d been heading out to dinner, when she commented that almost always, he wore all black. Honestly, it wasn’t even a complaint, considering she was guilty of the same thing. 

Why bother trying to put together prints and fabrics and colors, when black looked so nice on her? 

Anyway. She hadn’t been complaining. Teasing, but not complaining. 

But noooo. He’d immediately gotten that annoying, competitive look in his eyes that both made her smile and want to strangle him. 

“What would you like me to wear, Nesta?” he’d asked, golden eyes practically glowing. 

She’d sighed, probably making things worse. “I’m just saying, we look a little goth when we’re together.”

Cassian had just smiled down at her, then walked out of their room. She hadn’t thought any more of it when he’d slipped back in later that night, but then this morning, when he’d gotten dressed in the bathroom and opened the door with a flourish, she’d almost hit the floor. 

He was not built for fanny packs and khakis. 

He was built for... well, he was built to be naked all the time, but since that would probably get them sent back to the states, tight black shirts and jeans was a decent second option.

Plus, as if it weren’t bad enough already, he’d been adding to the ensemble all day, building up to the horrendous outfit she was currently avoiding looking at. 

His faded combat boots had been replaced with flip flops. His hair was tucked under a very large hat with a Big Ben outline across the front. He’d even stopped to buy a fucking old-fashioned pipe from the William Blake exhibit they’d gone to see. 

He was trying to drive her crazy. 

But little did he know, she had a few tricks up her sleeve. After three years together, she knew how to drive him crazy, too. 

So she’d plotted and schemed all day. And as they rode back to their hotel in the cab, it was finally time for it to come into play. 

Trying to be discrete, she nodded at the driver.

Cassian’s eyes shot to her as the man slammed on the brakes. It had costed her twenty Euros, but seeing the look of shock on her boyfriend’s face was so worth it. 

Especially as she shouted, “Drive him to the other side of the city and kick him out!”

And jumped from the cab. 

It was still moving a little, but she’d been prepared and hit the ground at a run. 

Manic laughter came out of her as Cassian turned around in the now-speeding cab, shouting something unintelligible back at her. 

He wanted to dress like a tacky tourist and drive her crazy? 

Fine. 

She’d just have to show him what he was missing out on. 

~

A little over an hour later, the door to their hotel room swung open, hitting the wall angrily. 

“That asshole took me halfway to fucking Essex, then had the audacity to charge me for the ride. Next time you have someone kidnap me, at least pay the fee, woman! I swear-”

Whatever he was about to say lodged in his throat as he took a look at what she was wearing. 

It was all new, and his eyes took in every piece of the wardrobe with a predatory gleam that sent her toes curling. But she acted unaffected, even as she bent down to fix the strap of her very high, very uncomfortable shoes. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice rough. 

Straightening, she shrugged and fluffed her hair. “I’m going to dinner.”

“You mean we’re going to dinner.”

Finally. 

Nesta turned towards her boyfriend, enjoying the way his eyes dipped to the almost indecent amount of cleavage on display. 

She traced her eyes over his entire rumpled, touristy outfit. “I’m not going in public with you while I look like this and you look like that.” 

His eyes narrowed as he finally caught on to what she’d done. “I’ll change then.”

It was a struggle not to laugh. “Well, you seemed so intent on replacing your wardrobe, I figured I’d help you out and dumped your suitcase.”

That was a lie. It was safely hidden down at the front desk. 

“You did what?”

Ignoring the question, she said, “You’re welcome. And since you can neither change nor go like that, I guess I’ll just see you later.”

Making her way to the door, she was abruptly stopped by a hand smacking into the wall closest to her, an arm now blocking her path. “Nesta Archeron, you are not going out looking like a goddamn supermodel while I sit here with my thumbs up my ass.”

“How you fill the alone time is irrelevant to me, Cassian.”

His other hand made its way to the wall, too, caging her in. 

“I know you wouldn’t throw my clothes out. Where are they? Tell me, and we’ll go to dinner.”

She shrugged, resolve to keep the secret building by the second. 

She was aware they were both a little competitive, but she didn’t care. She was winning this, one way or the other. He’d admit he’d been wrong to dress like an idiot today, then--and only then--she’d give him his clothes back. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he told her, the tone of his voice proving that it was working. 

He was suddenly so close she couldn’t think about anything else. 

Even dressed in head to toe tacky, he somehow managed to suck all the air out of her lungs. 

One hand turned his hat backwards so the brim wouldn’t poke her, and he leaned in close enough to run his nose down her neck. 

“Tell me, Nesta.”

“No.”

His teeth nipped at her skin, and she shivered. “Do I need to fuck it out of you?”

Gods, yes. Please. 

That hadn’t been her plan at all, but her body was more than on board with it. 

Except there was a bit of a problem. 

“You are not fucking me with a fanny pack on, hate to break it to you.”

Cassian pulled back far enough to wink at her, then his mouth was on hers, dominating her in the way that she’d only ever let him do. He pressed her against the wall, chest tight against hers, as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. 

Hands on her waist lifted her, and then she was being thrown halfway across the room onto the neatly-made bed. 

Propping herself up on her elbows, she glared over at him. 

“I was being serious, Cassian. You’re not getting any while you’re dressed like Uncle Sam.”

He swaggered over to the foot of the bed, the comment not at all impacting his confidence. 

“Allow me to remedy the problem then, princess.”

The hat’s the first to go, and it was a relief to see his unruly hair finally free. She heard the slap of his flip flops on the floor and figured he kicked them off, too. Cassian tugged the horrible, bright yellow “I <3 LONDON” shirt over his head, then stared at her, eyes narrowed. 

“I’m keeping the fanny pack.”

It was adorable how wrong he was. 

Raising an eyebrow, Nesta leaned back and let her thighs fall open, keying him into the fact that she’d somehow forgotten to put on underwear tonight. 

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move to take off the damn pack. 

So she ran a manicured nail over her bottom lip, then slipped it in her mouth and sucked on it. She was pretty sure Cassian was about to pass out as she released it with a pop, then brought it between her legs. 

“Nesta.”

“Hmm?” she responded, the sound drawn out and breathy as she pushed the finger inside herself. 

“I like the fanny pack.” He sounded so sad, it was almost comical. Like a kid on Christmas who’d just been told Santa hadn’t come.

Too bad.

“Then stand there and watch.”

Oh, he did. His eyes were intent on her hands, both the one between her legs and the other that made it’s way to her breast. 

She rolled a nipple between her fingers and groaned, and he leaned down to fist the sheets at the end of the bed in his hands. “Fuck.”

Nesta refused to give first. Absolutely refused. 

And she knew what it would take for him to give in. So she added another finger, back arching off the bed, and worked herself until she was so close she couldn’t stay still. 

His knuckles were white as he gripped the comforter tight enough to threaten the strands, but it wasn’t that that forced him to lose their little battle. 

It was the sight of her coming undone before him. 

She moaned, and it might’ve been his name that fell from her lips, as release found her. When she heard the strangled, creative curse he let out, she knew she’d won. 

Forcing her eyes open, she watched as he finally unhooked the fanny pack and let it drop to the floor. 

It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. 

Cassian quickly kicked off his hideous khakis, then prowled up her body, dropping little love bights on her thighs, her hips, her breasts. 

“That was so hot,” he groaned as he settled between her thighs, bracing himself on his elbows. 

“That was the idea, idiot.”

He stopped for a moment, pulling back to give her a sour look. “I think I’m going to make you apologize for that.”

Before she could tell him there was a fat chance of that happening, he pushed into her. Nesta gasped, and his mouth was suddenly on hers, absorbing the sound. 

After a brief moment to adjust, his hips grew rough against hers, the grip he had on them almost bruising, but she didn’t care. 

“Fuck, Cass,” she groaned, arching into his touch as he drew little circles on the bundle of nerves between her legs. 

He picked up speed, pounding into her so hard she started shifting up the bed until he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping her in place. 

Release started building up in her, and she could tell it would be almost too intense when it crested. But just before she got to find out, he slowed his rhythm, swirling his hips slowly against hers. 

An indignant, hateful sound left her mouth, and he pulled back enough to smirk down at her. 

“Say it,” he commanded, eyes like molten caramel as they watched her hips try to gain more friction. “Say you’re sorry, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Fuck you,” she panted, barely resisting the urge to punch him. “You insufferable, arrogant bastard.”

“Not exactly what I want to hear, but close.”

A maddeningly slow circle of his hips had her regretting ever going out with him. 

Another had her planning his murder.

Yet another had her cursing the day he was born.

“Say it, Nesta. You know you want to.” He dipped his head to kiss the base of her throat. 

Her body was so strung out it was a miracle she didn’t burst into tears, but she somehow managed to hold off for another few minutes.

But then he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head and all but growled, “Just fucking say it. Say it so I can fuck you like you deserve.”

And she was just desperate enough that she said, “I’m sorry I called you an idiot, you horrible asshole.”

He smiled down at her, and she glared. “Such beautiful words.”

“Cassian, I swear-”

The words became lost in her throat as he finally, finally started moving again, somehow harder and quicker than before. 

Release immediately crashed into her, and she moaned as she drew tight around him. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, and even though she currently hated him, the words just made the release that much sweeter. 

Especially as he didn’t stop. Her body was trembling underneath his, but he kept going, even dipping his head to kiss his way down to her breasts. 

His tongue swirled around the peak of one, and she groaned loudly as the wave inside her seemed to crash once more, leaving her scattered and broken in the aftermath. 

Cassian finally followed her lead, collapsing on top of her and pressing her into the mattress below as he said her name in a helpless, loving sort of way. 

Their breath was uncontrolled and loud, and it took a few minutes before either of them could speak. 

Then he asked roughly, “Now, where’d you hide my shit?”

“Front desk,” she panted, pushing her hair off her forehead with a tired hand. 

He drew back, looking over her partially-clothed body in a satisfied, male way that made her smile. “I really like that dress, in case it isn’t obvious. Want me to go change so we can eat something?”

Before she could respond, his mouth was at her ear, hot breath raising goosebumps across her skin. “Or do you just want to eat here?”

Suddenly, food was the last thing on her mind. 

Her hands found their way to his hair as she drew him back down to her. 

“Just get it tomorrow,” she murmured, lips finding his again. “And never wear that fanny pack again.”

_________________________________________________________

Like I said, I had WAY too much fun writing this hahaha. Kinda really loosely based on when Joey (Friends) went to London and dressed like a tourist :)

Tags: @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian x nesta #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #nesta x cassian #nesta x cassian fanfiction

[chaaaaalk]

What r ur top three movies rn

!!!! seeing this in my inbox was so exciting! I'll jump at any chance to talk about movies. This was difficult tho, not gonna lie, I had to sit down and really think because honestly I can have a great big handful of favourites at any given time and they will all be so different to one another.

Part of me really wants to answer with things like Freaked or Meet the Feebles and all the batshit, over the top stuff with hybrid aesthetics that I really really like ha.

But I'll answer with 3 of my favourites that I can go back to in an instant that I think are all around pretty entertaining, interesting and kinda bizarre.

Phantom of the Paradise is one I absolutely love to the moon and back, everything about it enthalls me, from the overall themes of corporate bullshittery and the whole idea of art being so easily and quickly passed into the wrong hands (to the point where it is used as a weapon against it's original creator) being the main driving plot, Willem Finley, Paul Williams and Jessica Harper (in her first feature!!!!) being an iconic as fuck trio which everything is sorta balanced on, all of the stories about the film's production and the whole swan song set back, the music, the tonto synthesizer, the bird motif and how it's still pretty relevant now, I love all of it.

Possession from 1981 is one I just keep going back too, and I think thats just because I think it works great as a genuinely unnerving horror film/creature flick while also being pretty damn camp at the same time??? I get so much out of every performance every time I rewatch it (I fucking read a letterboxd review recently where the person said that Sam Neil reminded them a bit of a 'hot Mr Bean' and I literally cant stop thinking about it). Im a fool for content involving doppelgangers and I think this is still to this day one of the more mysterious and eerie examples of that kind of subject matter. On a more serious note, I think the setting (right by the Berlin Wall, something that really amplifies the films overarching theme of devision) and the gritty blue, green and brown colour palette makes the whole thing pretty identifiable as 'Possession', you know. I think I really just enjoy the heaviness of this movie, theres so many layers to it and I feel like I come out of it after each revisit with a slightly altered interpretation.

This third spot had me a bit stumped cos theres so many that could take it, but I knew it had to be a movie more on the theatrical side of things, in the sense that its something relatively contained in terms of characters and setting and relies heavily on the interaction rather than the event itself. Im gonna have to go with Dog Day Afternoon, which is different than the last two previously listed, since 1) it doesnt have any horror/fantasy elements in it at all and 2) it is a fairly recent favourite of mine. I love movies where dudes are just terrible at doing what they set out to do and this is like the pinnicle of that kind of thing. It's claustrophobic and insane and manages to be quite funny at times in a completely natural way, the humour coming from the absolute absurdity of the situation rather than the script itself. Lastly, but just as importantly, I think this movie and the sympathy it contains remains, to this day, incredibly culturally rich and fairly relevant (despite it being released in 1975) with the way it handles a lot of subjects that are still being discussed in 2021. Also, and this is a given, Al Pacino gives one hell of a performance here, the nuance, the range...

Forgive this long write up but yeah those are probably the three I currently wear on my sleeve the most. I do feel like I should mention the two I had running up for that third slot that are also high-stake, tense character pieces primarily set in the one location, and those are Funny Games from both 1997 and 2007 and Angst from 1983, however these are tough to sit through to say the very least and arent for everybody so I'll leave them in the honourable mentions (because god theyre effective in what theyre trying to do and I couldnt just post this without mentioning them, my apologies).

Alrighty, that's probably more than enough to answer your question, Im gonna go sit down on the floor now before I think of anything else and drag this on any further, bye 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

#chalk answers #i steampowered through this once i actually picked which three i was gonna put in the spotlight lol