#i noticed it after i finished the sketch and i was too tired to fix it

[sourtoasterstrudel]

Hades fanart because my friend is incredibly hyperfocused on it and honestly so am i who doesn’t love a game where literally everyone is hot and badass. I’m sure it comes as a surprise to no one that i like this game though considering my mythology special interest. Enemies-to-lovers bisexuals for the win

*little edit but yes i know they’re friends they’re also just really fucking bad at communicating so i like to call them enemies. They’re just losers

#soursart #hades game #thanzag #thanatos hades #zagreus #thanatos #hades fanart #ignore that zag’s off-the shoulder part is on the wrong side #i noticed it after i finished the sketch and i was too tired to fix it #this has been like a two week-long WIP the shading was just messing me up

[shinuko]

promise ring

#: tattoo artist boyfriend!geto, fluff, gn!reader, implied college au, gojo cameo

wc: 1.4k

tw/cw: unusally suggestive (my brain was in the gutter…), the f word (f*ck, a couple times), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart)

“ya like it up there?” geto chuckles, setting his book down above his head. he’s lying on his back, using his hands as a pillow, as he watches you. your legs are straddling his waist and you’re tracing the tattoos that decorate his chest. you hum, curling your fingers to scratch softly at his skin. “mm…” he groans, “mercy, baby, they’re healed but still a little… mmh… tender...”

“yeah?” you tease, letting your fingers slide lower down his abdomen, “then what about here?” you’re inching closer to his waistband when he flips you over, caging you underneath him, his hand pulling you close from the small of your back. his gaze drops to your lips and he licks his hungrily. 

“fuck around and find out,” he grins, “you fucked around, so now you get to find out.” you didn’t get a chance to retort as geto quickly closes the space between you, trapping your mouth with his and hands wandering every part of your body. he’s lifting your shirt, the tantalizing skin of your stomach peeking through, and trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck, collarbone, and then chest, looking up at you before continuing any further. “this okay, sweetheart?” he presses a kiss against your stomach, “do you want me to stop?”

your fingers find his hair, keeping his head in place, and you arch your back, chasing the feeling of his lips brushing against your skin again. “no,” you breathe, “keep going.” too caught up in the pleasure rippling across your body, you don’t register the sound of the door unlocking.

“what the fuck- suguru, why didn’t you- ohhh, i see… nevermind! carry on!” gojo quickly turns on his heel and walks out, the door slamming shut behind him. geto lets his head fall into the crook of your shoulder, sighing when you leave a few comforting strokes on his hair, before heaving himself up to retrieve his roommate. after he leaves, you sit up, fixing yourself, and bring your knees up to your chest, waiting for their return. 

“honestly, satoru, why do you have a phone if you don’t even use it?” you hear geto grumble as he unlocks the door. 

“i’m sorry! i just didn’t see it! hey y/n.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever… sorry ‘bout that, baby,” he says, sitting down beside you, “looks like we got ourselves a guest.” he glares pointedly at gojo, who crosses his arms in response and sticks out his tongue at geto. 

“this ‘guest’ also happens to pay half of the rent here, you know,” gojo huffs, muttering, “i should’ve stayed in the library longer…”

“yes you should’ve, why didn’t you?” 

“because i was getting hungry and tired,” he shoots back, “anyways, let’s get takeout. what would you like to eat, y/n?” 

“oh, uh, how about sushi?”

“i want ramen.”

gojo hums, “okay, sushi it is. sprite okay with you, y/n?” tapping away at his phone, gojo quickly finishes putting in the order and rises from his spot on the couch. “i ordered it, and it's gonna be 30 minutes. please keep the noise to a minimum… i’m gonna take a nap, wake me up when it’s here.”

geto scoffs, rolling his eyes, as you laugh. the door closes behind gojo with a soft click. geto pulls out his ipad, opening the application he uses to sketch tattoo designs. you lean your head on his shoulder, peeking at the screen, and look at his drawings—this one looks to be a spine tattoo.

“is that for you?”

geto sighs, “for a client. he wanted something symbolic, has something to do with his girlfriend or something like that…”

you notice the wrinkles forming from his furrowed brows, “hm... so, what are you thinking about?”

“...tattoos based on relationships are dangerous,” he murmurs, adding more lines to his design, “and if things go wrong, it gets very difficult. i don’t understand why they would do that to themselves. don’t you think it’s stupid?.”

“i think it’s pretty sweet actually,” you say, “you’re making that conscious decision even while knowing the consequences. pretty telling about their determination and loyalty, don’t you think?”

geto hums, still touching up the design, “...if you say so, baby.”

—

“feel free to talk about something. it might help with the pain.” geto smiles sympathetically at the man lying down in the chair. 

“what… would i even talk about?” the man asks through gritted teeth. 

geto wipes away at the excess ink, examining his work, “what about why you’re getting this tattoo? you said it had something to do with your girlfriend?”

some of the pain seems to disappear from his face, and a shy smile stretches across his lips: he’s obviously lost in thought about his girlfriend. “it’s a reference to one of those k-dramas that she’s been watching lately. before we got serious, we were watching this one called ‘guardian’ something… the title is too long for me to remember,” he chuckles, “but the flower the guy gives the girl—buckwheat flowers—it means ‘lover,’ and it got me thinking about my relationship with her. and it just hit me, like, it’s her. i want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“buckwheat flowers…” geto murmurs softly, “they mean ‘lover,’ you say?”

“yeah. at least according to the drama they do. didn’t really google it to check. and so that’s why i wanted to get that bouquet tattooed on me. it also has her favorite actor, so naturally she really loves the show too.”

“i see…” geto stops working on the tattoo completely, “i know i already asked you this before we started, but are you really sure about this tattoo? what if… things go wrong? it’s not too late, i could improvise the design right now and get you something that you might be happier with in the long run.” 

the man blinks, “no, but i understand your concern. it must be frustrating to spend hours on tattoos only for it to become meaningless the next day…” geto stays silent, staring at the quarter-finished tattoo, so the man continues, “i love her, and i’m choosing her. you know that ring ceremony thing that those engineer people have? how the ring is supposed to remind the engineer of their obligation or something like that? i want the tattoo to be like that. i want it to remind her that i’m choosing her and that i’m promising her my forever, and i want to remind myself that she’s who i want and that the thing we’ve built together is worth it for me.”

“i… never thought of it like that,” geto admits, picking the pen back up and preparing to start work again, “should i continue?”

“...how about a 5 minute break?” the man asks, tone hopeful, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead.

geto laughs, “you got it.”

—

“hey, what’s this?” you grab at geto’s hand, peering at his latest tattoo, “a line?”

“a band,” he corrects, “got a little bored at the shop today, so i just did it.”

you look up at him quizzically and he shrugs. it was a simple black stripe that went around his ring finger. flipping over his hand, his palm facing you, you continue to study the tattoo, when your eyes widen at your newest discovery. “suguru…” your voice comes barely above a whisper, and a hand comes up to cover your mouth, “my initials?”

geto glances away, cheeks flushing, as he scratches at the back of his head sheepishly, “yeah, i uh… yeah.” 

“weren’t you the one who said that people who tattoo something of their partner’s are a different level of idiotic?” you say,  quirking an eyebrow and a playful smile curling the corner of your mouth. 

geto hid his face in his other hand, “don’t remind me...”

you thumb the tattoo thoughtfully, “were you thinking about me?”

“i’m always thinking about you.”

you smile at that, meeting his steady eyes, “when you did it, i mean.”

“i don’t think that changes my answer,” geto says, raising an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

you pretend to glare at him, straightening up and crossing your arms over your chest. “...just shut up and kiss me already,” you tell him, and he obliges immediately, pulling you in close and kissing your lips sweetly. coaxing your mouth open, he turns his head to deepen the kiss. he presses his forehead against yours when he pulls away, your lips parted still as you catch your breath.

“my forever,” he tells you, voice barely audible, but you can still hear him clear as day, “it’s yours.”

you smile, “i know.”

he wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you close, and rests his head on your shoulder, “and your forever is mine.”

“it is.”

koi's notes: okay but did they get the sushi though??? 🧐🧐 anyways dedicated to @omgeto and a huge thank you to emp and mothe (@planetxiao) because i love and appreciate y'all so very much

#s.k. #sort: jjk #jjk: fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #geto suguru fluff #jjk fluff #geto x reader #geto x you

[feeblescholarmyass]

Headcanons

to motivate me to write chapter three

these all take place after they're all together and are completely separate from the plot

tags: poly relationship, Sumeru Boys x GN! Reader, sfw, fluff, slight spoilers for the fic in the future but idgaf (wanderer/scara is now involved. I can't get him oUT OF MY HEAD)

cw: cursing (mild), mentions of the reader's parents (m&f, good relationship)

masterlist

Alhaitham

I'm gonna be totally honest rn if you're hella tall good for you but I see the reader as like Cyno height so keep that in mind

Haitham here is definitely going to do that thing where he pretends not to see/hear you because of your height (half because you startle him all the time since he doesn't see OR hear you approaching)

he's not that big of a fiction reader but he loves listening to you recount the plot of your latest favorite book or fic and sometimes he actually gets really into hearing you tell the story so if you leave him off on a cliffhanger if you need to go do something he will seek you out until you finish telling him the story

if you're in his way/can't reach something he just like,,, picks you up

say you're putting away the dishes or standing in front of a cabinet he'll lift you up by your waist either to help you reach something or to put you down somewhere else

smells really nice so sometimes you take his shirts or something when you're at home all day and you look like you're wearing a tent and he notices but doesn't say anything unless he wants to get his laundry done and reminds you to put his things you took in with the rest of it

both your parents have mixed feelings on him but he doesn't give any shits

Kaveh

You two definitely spend hours alone in the studio of your shared living space sketching either in silence or having the most distracted conversations ever

he'll be designing something meanwhile you're sketching one of your boyfriends (one of the actual ones or some character from a book you've decided is cute)

and he'll look up at you and ask "what's missing?" while holding up the sketch

you'll spin around (of course you've got the spinny chairs you aren't living unless you have a nice spinny chair) and peer over at it for a while, the either describe it or sketch something down silently and he'll go "that's exactly what it needed!"

and vice versa

say you're having trouble with a pose/lighting/detail and you'll point at it and say "how do I fix it" and he'll give you a few pointers or suggestions

eventually one of the others has to remind you to leave and go get some sunlight and both of you will be shocked at how much time has passed

also y'all know that voice line where he says he's already learned to play an instrument? you learned to play along with your father at a young age and now being able to play together makes both of you so happy 🥺🥺

I can totally see him trying to practice one day but just not being into it until he hears you harmonizing to what he's playing, either with your voice or your instrument of choice

and don't get me started on the improv opportunities

like he plays one pattern and you build off each other back and forth until you're both tired and giggling

he cherishes those moments with you the most, seeing as how art is so rarely appreciated as highly as academics in Sumeru

both of your parents adore him and ask about him all the time

Tighnari

as your Amurta senior he gets on your ass about schoolwork even more than Alhaitham 😔😔😔

but you don't mind since he helps you with your work rather often

he is the most worried about your health so he checks up on you rather often. if you're inside for too long, he'll ask you to take a walk outside with him. if you haven't eaten yet, he'll make you a meal and chastise you for forgetting to take care of yourself. if you've been a little overwhelmed lately, he will sit down with you and keep your mind off what is stressing you, either by snuggling with you and talking nonsense about fungi or a grooming session for the both of you (face masks and painting of nails, the whole shabang)

of the four, he also is the most critical of the way some (*cough cough*, Scara, Alhaitham, and Kaveh's endless bickering *cough cough*) of the others act around you. If you ever need a break from them, he is more than willing to pull you away.

very open with his feelings and affections for you, almost as much so as Kaveh, who is ever such a romantic

not against PDA, but if you're not a fan he keeps his hands to himself. in public, he loves soft, quick brushes of his hand against your back or cheek, a quick kiss stolen in the privacy of your home

also top tier cuddler. of all the five, he finds himself sleeping in your bed the most often.

your mother absolutely adores him

Cyno

he definitely had some trouble getting the hang of things in the beginning, especially with being affectionate

he gets very flustered 🤭🤭 sometimes you'll say something to him with so much adoration in your voice that he'll just go silent and stare at you with the most loving look in his eyes like he just witnessed magic

he once tried to throw in a pick-up line with his usual joking, but got wayyyy too embarrassed and ended up not saying the punchline, instead just staring at his feet with a mortified look

you love to play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles and cute accessories in his hair. any time you ask he'll sit down and let you do his hair. he doesn't say it, but he loves sitting like that, with his eyes closed and your thighs around his waist as he feels your fingers combing through his hair. sometimes he even lets you cut it if it's getting too bothersome or has a lot of split ends

gets along with your dad scarily well like you didn't think he would get past that awkward "yeah I'm dating your child yeah I know it's weird yeah please don't hate me" stage but now your dad texts him every day and they go back and forth making jokes all day every day

he taught your dad emojis and now it's the only way your dad communicates with you

there are so many more for him that I can't say yet because it spoils the plot

Scaramouche / Wanderer

as the newest victim of your allure, he still is getting used to the dynamic of the group

since he's the only one the same age as you, you have a lot more core classes together. he also follows you around and glares at anyone who he doesn't deem worthy of your time.

when he's not with you, he talks about you all the time. he thinks about you constantly. it's a little insufferable, to be honest. he's a complete ass to your classmates, and he still holds a grudge against them. for what I can't tell you yet 😔

he spends the most time in your room, just observing you and being near you. he'll complain about something or other while you do your school work, and you'll listen and smile. he sneaks closer and closer until he's practically draping himself over you and you give up on finishing your work, instead opting to hold him and tease him for being so clingy

your animals won't leave him alone. they follow him around *almost* as much as you

your mother hates him, your father thinks he could bother to be a little more respectful to others, but otherwise likes him

taglist: @ratty-rat-toot @em-asian @hypernovaxx @surgeonsofazaroy @xiaosimper @i-loveyou013 @strwbrysweets

let me know if you want to be added! (if your name is in bold, it means I can't tag you)

[fantasies2paper]

Aizawa was sitting at the dining room table in the living room grading papers. His hair was half up giving me a good look at his profile from where I sat across the room, openly gawking at him. The sleeves of his grey shirt were rolled up, exposing strong forearms and ending in long lithe fingers. 

He'd been so tired from teaching at UA and being a pro hero this was the first time I'd seen him doing regular adult tasks. I was afraid I'd spook him so I sat quietly and sketched his features. His strong jawline and dark eyes were the only thing that filled my sketch book. 

I had to find other things to occupy my time since sex had pretty much left the room after he started teaching. I wasn't upset about it, just a little sexually frustrated but it wasn't anything a few batteries and an Aizawa spank bank didn't fix. So my drawings eventually got very good.

The oven beeped to tell me it was ready and preheated so I set my sketchbook down on the kitchen table and started putting dinner together. Placing my earbuds in my ear I absently danced around the kitchen as I chopped potatoes and marinated steak. The next song started with a slow sensual beat as I placed the potatoes in the oven.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my hip before Aizawa took an earbud out of my ear. "Oh shit, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't bother you did I?"

He'd placed the earbud in his own ear as he still moved my hips with the music, his own movements mirroring my own. His eyes were closed and he was humming along with the tune, so I did the same and continued moving my body. He followed every roll and swivel of my hips, glad I'd chosen yoga pants as I could feel him pressed against me.

"You didn't interrupt me, y/n," he said quietly as the song ended, leaning down to brush his lips against my neck. "I just didn't want to let a beautiful woman dance by herself. What are you making, kitten?"

It had been awhile since I'd heard him call me that and it went straight to my core. His voice always had a way of stroking my deep secret places. It was like melted chocolate or a warm cozy fireplace during a cold snowy night. I rubbed the gooseflesh on my arm.

"You finished grading all your papers?" I replied, my mouth suddenly very dry. "I think I'll do some grilled steak once the potatoes are close to being done. I had a taste for meat today."

"I can help with that craving, kitten." He said in between each kiss he placed on my neck, grinding into me with the rhythm of the next song that was coming through the earbuds. "I've been neglecting my kitten for too long and it's time to rectify that. You've been so patient with me even though we both know I don't deserve your time and attention."

"Mmm you do deserve me so stop being silly," I commented softly. My eyelids fluttered closed when his warm breath ghosted across my skin and I reached my hand up to grab his hair. His fingers tightened on my hips as I grinded against his hard body. "You also haven't been neglecting me, Shouta. Why would you think that?"

His strong forearm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer. Following the beat of the song with his hips flush against mine was really clouding my mind. He'd always had that effect on me but it had been a few months so it somehow seemed more potent. I could feel the heat rolling off his body and warm my skin, my nipples hardening against the thin f/c tank top. I almost didn't notice as he turned off the oven and stove, a tingle shot through me at the implications.

"I found your toy in the bedroom. I think it's really sexy." He growled softly before dragging his tongue up the curve of my neck before blowing on it gently. "When did my kitten use that sinful little toy? While I was gone protecting the city? Or maybe while I was at UA you were home with that toy deep inside of you, moaning my name?"

He smelled so good. A heady dark scent like woods and just pure man. It was distracting me and coupled with the heat from his hard body and his growl in my ear if someone asked where I was I don't think I could've answered.

"Sometimes." I answered honestly, my lips were parted and I was panting softly while I tried to focus on his questions. "Sometimes we would be in bed and I wouldn't want to wake you so I would slowly fuck myself with it."

I felt his arm around my waist flex at my admittance and his other hand reached up to grab my breasts through my shirt, tugging at my nipples. My pants were getting deeper and I could feel him hot and heavy against the curve of my ass. I could cum right here, just like this if he didn't stop playing with me.

"Mm I'm sorry I didn't realize how badly you needed me, kitten." He spun me around to face him, one hand pressing against my lower back and the other squeezing my ass. "Look at you, already putty in my hands aren't you? Let me kiss it better, kitten."

His soft lips pressed against mine and my core clenched, soaking my panties. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I slid my tongue into his mouth, humming softly at his sweet taste. His tongue swirled around mine before sucking on it softly, gripping my ass roughly in his hand. He greedily swallowed my moans while he kissed me, hot desire clenching in my lower belly almost painfully.

Shouta pulled away so I could breath, his lips trailing down my chin to my neck. It took a second for my brain to kick back on and listen to what he said.

"It's not your fault," I gasped out as his teeth grazed my neck. "You're keeping everyone safe and teaching new heroes. Don't worry about me, daddy."

My fingers found their way in his hair as he bit my neck, making me cry out. He was right though. I was completely putty in his hands. If he stepped away from me right now I would've fallen to the floor. I felt my back press against the kitchen wall, not knowing when we moved. 

The sound of ripping fabric went straight to my core as he tore my shirt off of my body. I would've chastised him but I couldn't find a single fuck to give at that moment. I settled with grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it off in one swift move, biting my lip at the sight of his hard body. His muscles had gotten more defined since I'd last seen him, all the extra training with the students and his normal pro hero regimen clearly working in his favor and mine.

"I love when you look at me like that, kitten." He groaned softly, his hands tugging and pinching my nipples. "Show me how much you missed me."

"Gladly."

I kissed my way down his chest, dragging my tongue along every line and curve of the muscles on his chest. Hooking my fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants, I settled myself on my knees and kissed just under his belly button. I slowly revealed more of himself to me as if I was unwrapping a present slowly to savor the moment.

Once I finally had his pants out of my way I placed a kiss on the head of his cock. The long thick shaft was already impossibly hard and licked the tip to collect the thick, creamy precum that gathered at the tip. I noticed the music continuing to play in my ear. The beat was slow but steady giving me the idea to follow the tempo.

I slid my hands up his thighs, lightly dragging my nails against his skin as I slid him into my mouth. He groaned long and low, his fingers moving to my hair. I slowly bobbed my head to the sensual beat, swirling my tongue around the tip on every up stroke. I gripped his ass to help control the pace as I felt his body tense up.

I had no intention of letting up. I planned on savoring every noise, taste, and feeling as I bobbed my head slowly. My core ached for him to fill me up while I clenched around nothing. Both of his hands tightened in my hair as his moans grew louder.

"Don't swallow your milk, kitten." He growled out through clenched teeth, his head falling back as a deep moan left his throat. It was my only warning before his cum coated the inside of my mouth, hot and thick. I moaned softly at the taste, sucking his cock clean before looking up at him. "Show me what a good little kitten you are."

I opened my mouth, moving his cum around on my tongue. Shouta had a way of making me think about only pleasing him, embarrassment be damned. He bit his lip as he watched me play with my food, his eyes growing darker from lust.

"What a pretty fucking kitten you are. I think I should walk you upstairs." He said slowly, rubbing the head of his cock against my lips as his scarf floated around me. The fabric secured one end around my throat and the other was securely in Shouta's hand. "Take your pants off….leave your pretty f/c panties."

I did as I was told, not being able to remove my pants fast enough. After I took off the offending fabric I got on my hands and knees, excited for what was coming next when the sexy male towering above me pulled on the makeshift leash. I meowed softly and began crawling beside him, my hips swaying side to side slowly.

Shouta let me lead the way, my panties soaked and clinging to my sex as I felt his eyes on me. Low growls left him as he leaned down to caress my ass before smacking it, a sharp sting tingling the abused cheek. 

"Such a good kitten deserves a reward." He growled out approvingly as I crossed the threshold to the bedroom we shared. Pulling me to a stop, his palm cupped my sex roughly. "I think I wanna string you up, kitty. With your legs spread so lewdly." He dragged his tongue up my cheek, slowly. "I think I should fuck you with your naughty toy while I bite that pretty clit." He pressed his palm more firmly against me making me mewl, pitifully. "Then I want to pump you so full of my hot milk you have my pups. I want to watch my hot milk slide out of your slutty hole until your crying, kitten."

I was squirming at his words, desperate for his hand to move against me. I tried my best to beg around the delicious cum that filled my mouth.

He chuckled softly at my attempts before he lifted me up. His scarf attached to hooks we had placed in the ceiling, for obvious reasons, draping to create our own person swing. He set me down on the swing before moving over to the dresser where he retrieved my toy and the choke collar he had made for me.

I watched him as he fastened the collar around my neck, the anticipation making my clit twitch. Shouta trailed his fingers down my neck to my breasts, pinching and tugging on my nipples and earning a throaty moan from me.

"Keep my milk in your mouth, kitten, or I'll leave you just like this with no relief." Shouta teased before nipping at my skin with his teeth.

I had no time to respond before feeling the tip of the dildo slide up and down my slit, parting my lips achingly slow. A strained sound left my throat as I watched Shouta, his eyes fixed on my sex as his pink tongue darted out to wet his lips. He locked eyes with me before a slow smile spread across his face as he leaned in. He made sure I was watching him as his tongue flicked against my clit.

Sparks lit underneath my skin at the touch, nearly making me swallow his cum. I couldn't stop myself from tangling my fingers in his hair from such a small touch. I felt him chuckle before he closed his lips around my clit, sliding the toy in deep and slow at the same time.

The mewl that fell from my closed mouth sounded helpless and lewd to my ears, my thighs trembling as he sucked on my clit and fucked me. I wasn't going to last long. His wet lips sucked my clit into his wet hot mouth, his tongue abusing the small bundle of nerves as he slid the toy in and out of my body. 

I nearly choked on Shouta's cum, earning an approving groan as he devoured and teased me. Pulling the toy out of me he chucked it across the room, replacing the silicone cock with his tongue. The wonderful little muscle danced and swirled inside of my hole and it took all of my control not to scream his name.

Shouta panted and moaned as if I was the best meal he'd ever had, slurping up my arousal with fervor. His fingers squeezed my thighs as he tried to bury his face farther into my sex, the stubble on his chin adding a delicious sensation.

"Swallow daddy's cum and squirt in my mouth, kitten." Shouta growled against my slit before burying his tongue as deep inside of my body as it could possibly go.

I swallowed the cum and drool before I screamed his name, my back arching as I squirted into his waiting mouth. Hearing him choke around my arousal nearly brought me to the edge again. Nipping and sucking on my inner thigh before he pulled away, the look in his eyes excited me.

His lips were shiny with my arousal. His eyes were feral and full of lust as he grabbed the chain attached to my collar and pulled me to him, his lips crashing against mine. I moaned as our flavors mingled on my tongue and his hard cock pressed against my slit. The hard length snuggled between my lower lips.

I moaned as he moved his hips back and forth, coating himself in my slickness. I purred softly against his lips, falling back into the swing and lifting my hips. Shouta was impossibly hard and hot against my wanting body, more soft mewls falling from my swollen lips.

"Does the slutty kitten want my fat cock?" He growled, still sliding back and forth with strained control. "You want it so bad your little pussy keeps trying to suck me in. You feel so fucking good."

"Pl-please, daddy." I whimpered softly. "Fuck me silly."

He grinned as if that's all he'd been waiting for and slammed into me, his loud groan mixing with my scream of bliss. He stretched me to the point of breaking, my body twitching at the feeling of being so full. 

"Fuck, kitten." He growled out through gritted teeth. "Such a tight fucking fit. Oh shit!" 

His fingers dug into my hips, the pleasure and pain mixing until I couldn't tell the difference. He began to move, the swing helping the fluidity of his thrusts. I dragged my nails down his chest, angry red lines appearing in their wake as a feral moan tore from me. All of my sexual frustration and desire pouring out of me in that one sound, earning a hard thrust from Shouta.

"That's right, kitten. I want all of it. Give me everything you've got!" He groaned as he thrust hard into my body. He punished my pussy with his hard thrusts and I loved every second of it. A slow smile spreading across my face as I moaned my pleasure, nearly screaming as he used my body.

"Daddy yes!" I screamed as my head lolled back, one of his hands sliding up to grip my neck while the other kept a firm hold of my hips. The leverage from him holding my neck made his thrusts harder and faster, the tingles and shocks getting stronger in my slide belly. Every thrust brushed against my cervix, my legs trying to spread wider so he could get closer. 

Shouta's thrusts began to become erratic, his moans growing wild and loud. His hand left my hip and slid between us so he could pinch my clit roughly sending me flying over the edge with a scream. I squirted as I came all over his hard cock, my body trembling with aftershocks. He came shortly after, moaning my name as he filled my body.

We stayed like that, panting and exhausted. After a moment he lifted my body from the swing and laid me down on the bed, snuggling beside me and covering both of us with a fluffy comforter.

"I'm not done with you, y/n," he said softly before kissing my forehead. "But you can rest for now."

"Yes, sir." I sleepily chuckled as I nuzzled against him and drifted off into a resting sleep

#aizawa #shouta aizawa #shouta x reader #shouta x you #fem reader #female reader #eraserhead #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha aizawa #mr aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #lemon #smut #fic #fanfic #oneshot #reader insert

[threadandlace]

He Sings the Songs (Josh POV)- Seamstress for the Band series, part eleven (4.0k)

Masterlist- to start from the beginning

The warm water felt heavenly as it beat down against your back. You were sore and exhausted- performing really took everything out of you, despite the passion and love you felt for it. Thinking back to the day’s events, you shook your head. A fire, the sound check fiasco, Emily, what else could go wrong today?

You reflected on the performance as you rinsed the shampoo out of your hair. It had gone really well, despite some hiccups during sound check. Sammy’s bass had been completely washed out and your mic had been distorting your voice. Luckily your crew was the best of the best, fixing the issues quickly and with the utmost professionalism.

Finishing your shower and wrapping the towel around your waist, you examined the clothes laid out for you on the bathroom counter.  A white long-sleeved tee shirt was folded on top of a pair of tan twill joggers, a new pair of boxer briefs carefully tucked under the clothes. Definitely my style, good picks.

You slipped on the clothes, the fabric clinging to your damp skin. Something along the side stitching of your pants caught your eye and you turned to examine it in the mirror. You smiled as you pulled at the fabric to get a better look at the symbol embroidered onto the pants. It wasn’t just any symbol; it was your symbol- a circle inside of a triangle with interwoven crosshatch lines. It was a simple gesture and probably took her about five minutes, but it rocked your world. She sat, probably in this room, and thought about you. Did something for you. Shaking your head, you tried to clear the thoughts from your mind. It’s her job. But was it?

Opting to let your hair air dry, you realized you were the quickest one to shower and get changed when you emerged from the dressing room, backpack slung over your back. Thank god I left this on the bus. The one time my forgetfulness comes in handy. You were carrying your jumpsuit which you had carefully hung back on its hanger.

It was quiet in the hall, the crew busy preparing to move equipment. But yet, there she was. She sat cross-legged on the floor, a sketchbook opened in her lap. Her brow was furrowed as she concentrated on whatever she was working on, her mouth twitching ever so slightly as she worked. You sat down on the couch across from her and she noticed your presence, her eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“Oh, hey!” she greeted casually, fixing her posture as she addressed you. Her smile was soft and she was clearly tired, but she remained radiant with her presence. It was the one thing you could always count on- her presence seemed to recharge your energy, even after a long and exhausting day.

You gestured to the symbol on your pants, and she smiled wider. “I needed something small to do to get me into the creative spirit,” she said quietly. “I don’t know about creative- it’s nothing too special,” you countered. “I like it. Something about its simplicity just… works. It’s very you,” she added. You nodded and pointed to her sketch. “What are you working on?” She turned it to show you, pointing out details as she talked. “I’m mapping out the panel I’m missing for Jake’s Atlanta suit. I want to make sure I only have to redo it once,” she explained, sadness clouding her face.   

“I’m sorry you’re having to redo it. It just… really sucks,” you lamented. She nodded in agreement before looking back up at you. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m honestly just glad everyone is okay. Things could’ve been really bad. I mean, people could’ve gotten hurt or died. I am sad about the panel and my sketchbook, but there’s a chance I’ll get it back. And even if I don’t,” she paused to take a breath, her hands gesturing as she talked, “I’m okay. You’re okay. We are all okay. The world is still turning!”

“And burning,” Sam added as he plopped down on the couch next to you. He rested his head back and closed his eyes, clearly exhausted. This tour had started out well, but the way things had been going were starting to take their toll. You chuckled as you took in Sam’s outfit, a pair of patterned pants clashing brightly with a tie dye t-shirt. 

“You know… this makes sense,” you said as you gestured to his outfit. He opened one eye to see what you were talking about before closing it back, chuckling in agreement. “Yeah, Ava picked out your clothes,” she had answered, her smile growing wider. You looked at Sam, who was shaking his head, eyes closed, before looking at her. “Really?” you mouthed, and she shook her head. “That’s funny,” Sam mumbled, “Ava told me you picked this out for me. And she is a much more reputable source for information.”

That was all it took for the laughter to begin and she doubled over, gasping for breath. You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, even though you didn’t really understand why it was so funny. She wiped a tear from her cheek as her laughter subsided. “Yeah, no, it was me. I got all of your stuff, so if it doesn’t fit, that’s on me. Nobody else wanted to pick for you guys, so I decided to have fun with it.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I must be really exhausted because that wasn’t even funny. But then I looked at you and it just tickled me all over.”

Everyone fell back into comfortable silence before Danny emerged. “Nice outfit,” he poked at Sam, starting the giggles all over again. Jake emerged soon after, completing the group. Everyone sat in silence, waiting for the signal to load up and head towards Atlanta.

Albert approached the group. “Well, we have the go ahead crew!” he greeted, always smiling. She jumped up to greet Albert, ensuring he had eaten something and had his coffee ready. “I can go grab you something really quick!” she had said, although Albert had waved her off. She had gotten really close to the older man, both of them always checking up on each other. His kindness was infectious, and you’d started to really take a liking to him. Albert was one of the reasons you liked to take the wardrobe bus. One of many reasons.

You reached for your jumpsuit, but she had beaten you to it. “I’ll carry it,” you offered, reaching out for it. “Are you guys not stopping to see the fans? The bus is parked a little further away,” she clarified, and you glanced back at Jake. “May as well,” Jake answered. “I’ll let you take it. This time,” you warned as you gestured to let her walk ahead of you. She had stacked the other outfits on top of your jumpsuit, which she carried carefully. Albert had taken the box of shoes from her and was leading the group out to the bus.

The commotion from outside could be heard before you even got to the backside of the arena. Security joined the group as you all made your way out the back doors. Jake took the lead, heading over to begin the song and dance over the fence surrounding the back parking lot.

You watched your brother- he was always effortless, ensuring the perfect amount of finesse for every situation. He was a natural and had that star power quality that you knew had helped make his dream a reality. You followed behind him, pulling a sharpie out of the side pocket of your bag as you leaned in to sign various things and smile for photos.

Without even thinking, you made your way onto the wardrobe bus. You absentmindedly nodded and smiled at Albert, who was getting his GPS set up. She looked up at you as you worked your way towards the back of the bus. She smiled and you finally came to the realization that you were not on your bus and that you were alone in your choice to ride with her. You were suddenly nervous, unsure how she’d react to just you choosing to ride with her.

I can just say I wanted to check in and I’ll get off. It’s not that weird that I came on here. If she’s uncomfortable she’ll tell me.

She smiled at you, pointing to the spot you usually took when riding on the wardrobe bus. “What’s on your docket for the night? Albert said it’ll only be about three, maybe three and a half hours to get to Atlanta,” she said as she turned back to cutting the piece of fabric laid out on the table in front of her. Everything she did was so effortless, although her movements were quick and precise. 

You watched her for a second before remembering that she asked you a question. “I think I’ll probably just sketch a little bit. Maybe work on some lines for the song Danny and I were working on,” you answered as you moved to sit in your spot. “Is that the missing panel?” you asked, gesturing to the piece she was working on. “It is. I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to knock this one out by the time we get to Atlanta. We will see!” she answered, giving you a hopeful smile.

Albert called back to the two of you to let you know you’d be under way soon. Both of you responded in unison, harmonizing with your responses. You both chuckled before you returned to your respective projects.

You angled yourself away from her to continue working on a project you’d started that afternoon. You were glad your sketchbook was the one thing that was kept sacred- nobody dared peer inside. Sam had flipped through it, you were sure, but you knew Jake and Danny would never. Nobody from your team. Everyone knew there were a few things left alone- Sammy’s bass, your sketchbook, Jake’s hats.

About an hour and a half later the bus pulled to a stop at a small gas station just inside the Georgia state limits. Both of you peered out the window, looking out into the pitch black to see the neon lights of the gas station convenience center. “I need a drink,” she started before turning to you, wide-eyed. “Like a caffeine-containing drink,” she clarified, and you laughed. “It’s been a day, I wouldn’t blame you for needing an actual drink,” you replied, running a hand through your loose curls. You gestured to her and she followed you off the bus.

She went to ask Albert what he wanted and he replied something you couldn’t quite hear, but she nodded and gave him a wide smile. Once she got back to you, she explained. “He wants a black coffee and a Nutter Butter,” she revealed, and you nodded. “I think we can do that.”

You filled up one of the disposable cups with coffee while she went to grab an energy drink. “You sure you don’t want anything?” she called out from across the store. It was just after one am and the store was quiet aside from the two of you and the clerk who sat half-asleep at the register. “No, I’m good,” you replied as you finished filling up the cup and popped on the lid. The cup was hot, so you placed the cup inside another for safe handling.

Both of you met up at the counter. She set her Red Bull on the counter and the clerk rang it up, reaching out to scan the barcode on the coffee cup. “Smart,” she noted, pointing at the double-cup situation as she handed over the work card. “Actually, can I get one of the vodka shooters?” you asked, wanting something to take off the edge. The clerk gave you a mild case of side eye before turning to grab a bottle. “Make it two,” she said, and you could hear the smile in her voice.

The clerk asked for ID, which you both provided before being rung up. He handed the card back across the counter and gave you both a nod, ready to get back to his nap. As you walked out the doors, you both snapped open your shots and slung them back before throwing the empty bottles into the trash. She made a face and you laughed. 

“Not one for shots?” you asked. “Not if they’re vodka, bleh,” she responded with a disgusted look. “We could’ve done a shot of fireball, but I’ve already had two tonight and you know… the red dye and everything,” you joked, and she shot you a look. “When on Earth did you take two shots?” she asked, bewildered. “On stage!” you replied with a laugh, coming to the realization that she must not have ever seen a show from start to finish. “I always take a shot of fireball. Sometimes, like tonight, two. Or three. Depends on how the show is going,” you explained, and she laughed in response. “I guess I better take Ava up on the offer of watching a show from in front of the barricade. She said it was worth the anxiety,” she responded. “You definitely should. A whole show, start to finish though. I think we really have a good setup. And I like to think I’m pretty entertaining,” you added, cringing internally. Don’t push it. Nobody likes cocky.

To your relief, she chuckled in response. “I agree with that statement. It’s never a dull moment on this tour.” You nodded in agreement as you both headed across the parking lot. She was walking in long, sweeping strides, almost dancing as she took a sip of her drink. Suddenly, she was fully dancing, doing a graceful spin before jolting into a hilarious set of moves as she tried to dance and walk. You watched her for a moment as she laughed, finding herself truly hilarious as the delirium of exhaustion set in.

You reached your free hand out to her and she took it, allowing you to spin her as you continued to walk towards the bus. Albert was standing outside, leaned against the side of the bus. He whistled and she held her hand up for you to do a spin in return.

As you approached, you handed Albert his coffee. “Go ahead and dip the lady!” he replied with enthusiasm. She handed Albert her drink too and held out both hands to you.

In that moment, you were transported back to high school choir, when you had accidentally dropped your partner while practicing a dip. “Josh, you’re such an idiot,” she had complained as she hopped off the ground, rolling her eyes. She had grabbed your hands and placed them where they were supposed to go. “If you could just grow a couple of inches and get a little stronger, we may actually be able to do this,” she had huffed, moving your feet with hers to square your position.

 You were zapped back to the present as she took your hands in hers, pulling you to her. Gently and slowly, you dipped her backwards, your arm pressed into the small of her back as she trusted you to help support her. Your eyes locked onto each other as you both took a deep breath, stretching just the slightest bit more. And, just like that, it was over as you both returned to standing positions. Albert adjusted his hold on the drinks and clapped for a moment, clearly delighted by this impromptu performance. “You should do that on one of your stages,” Albert said as he handed back her drink. “I don’t know if that’s really in the style of rock n’ roll, but Josh is a damn good dancer,” she replied, giving you a nudge as you headed back onto the bus.

  The last hour and a half of the drive was uneventful. You had sat and watched her work, enthralled with the speed of which her hands moved with never a stitch out of place. She had just moved to the sewing machine when the bus pulled into the hotel parking lot. Albert announced your arrival and you stood, gathering your stuff back into your backpack. “Are you coming?” you asked as she fastened the panels of the suit together with pins. “No, I’m going to finish this. Probably won’t take more than another fifteen to twenty minutes and then I can take a break tomorrow.”

You nodded and sat back down on the bench, pulling your phone out. She gave you a questioning look and you shrugged. “I’ll just wait until you’re done. It makes me a little nervous with you being out here alone, especially after the beer incident and everything people have been saying…” you said, stopping when you realized you’d spoken a bit too much.

She paused, stiffening before she turned her chair around to face you. “People are saying what?” she asked. She appeared calm and collected, although you were sure that, internally, she wasn’t. “Well, nothing new. Really. People are just trying to speculate about who you are and everything. Most of them have pieced together that you’re our designer, but people can never just be content with accepting the truth as an answer. And any threats are empty, just for attention” you replied, hoping she’d drop the topic.

“What does that mean? The truth part?” she inquired. “People are just jealous,” you replied. She sighed and continued. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m just going to go find out for myself.”  You couldn’t help but grimace at the thought of her reading some of the nasty things people had posted online. “I honestly don’t really even know. I’m not really into social media so…” you tried to cover. She shot you a look. “You’re a lousy liar, Josh. Well, I believe that you’re not into social media. That’s not a lie. I do have an inkling that you know what people are saying though. I know Jake sees everything and neither of you are good at keeping things to yourselves.”

You thought for a minute, desperate for a way to shield her. “Look, if you really want to know, ask Jake. He can find that stuff better than I can.” She nodded and luckily turned back towards her work. She started to sew the panels of the suit together, illuminating her workspace with a light that she pulled down close to view the needle as it moved through the fabric with mechanical precision.

She paused after a moment, not turning away from her work as she made her next statement. “Josh, it’s going to bother me all night if you don’t at least give me a gist of what’s going on with social media.” She spoke quietly, adjusting the pins in the fabric as she worked. You flipped over your phone and quickly texted your brother before replying.

You: Come help.

Jake: With…?

You: She’s asking about the stuff online. I don’t know what to tell her- you saw all of it.

Jake: Coming

“Look, Jake is coming back down, he will explain things,” you replied, looking up to see her looking at you. She had turned back around, the finished suit draped over her lap. She sat, hunched, as she peered at you. Her face, to most people, would read as tired, quiet, calm. But you could see through that front- she was scared.

You felt bad- she had gotten sucked into this world at your bequest. All of the beauty and the artistry was being overshadowed by the webs of speculation spun by bullies.

Jake boarded the bus a moment later, sauntering down the aisle of the bus casually. “Just got news that Emily had all her main test results came back normal, but she was dehydrated and exhausted. She and Ava are going to spend the night at the hotel and then drive up to join us tomorrow. Josh, we will need to have a meeting about how we are going to move forward- I think we either need to hire her a full-time assistant or put her on leave so she can focus on staying healthy and stress-free.”

Jake sat next to you, reclining back into the bench. “But that’s not what you needed me for,” Jake said, glancing at you and trying to get a read on the situation as she turned to lay the jacket on the table. You communicated as much as you could, trying to stress that you were worried about her.

“Jake, could you try this on really quickly while you let me know who has it out for me? Please?” she asked with a tight smile. He gave her a warmer smile in return as he stood and stripped off his shirt, carefully pulling the jacket on as he talked.

“There really isn’t much to know. Some people have put two and two together about how you’ve been seen carrying outfits and such and have deduced you’re our wardrobe curator. We really do have some smart fans, they have been known to crack codes and such behind some of our stuff and…” Jake trailed off, excited when talking about social media and the cryptic things that have happened. He spoke slower than you did, enunciating each word more heavily. 

“Jake,” you redirected, something that he typically had to do for you. “Yes, well, they think you and Danny are a thing and that you’re a groupie, but that’s obviously irrelevant,” he finished sliding on the jacket and she moved to check something on the side. “…and the threats were about throwing the beer, which did happen, so security is aware, and we will be on a bit more of a lockdown. Look, they talked about shaving your hair off, but I really think that was a joke,” Jake finished with a shrug.

She finished adjusting Jake’s suit and stepped back, gesturing for him to spin. He spun slowly, allowing her to take in the details. “Feel good?” she asked, and he nodded. “Perfect, it can come off then,” she said before sitting back down at her workstation. You and Jake waited for her response to what he’d told her.

“I feel like I’d look pretty hardcore with a shaved head,” she said with a shrug. “Do people hate me because they think I’m with Danny? Or…?” Jake nodded his head as he hung the jacket up. “I think so. I feel like they don’t know who exactly you are either, which fuels the rumors,” Jake replied. 

“Could be worse. Josh made it seem like there was a hit out on me for doing purple for the South Carolina show or something,” she joked. There she is. You and Jake laughed. “No, but I feel like we should do something to solidify who you are and your role,” Jake said. “Yes, give you some recognition too,” you added with a nod. “Like what?” she asked and you both shrugged. “We will figure it out though,” Jake replied with a smile.

The three of you walked into the hotel, you and Jake waiting for her as she went to collect her room key from the front desk. “What’s up with you?” Jake asked quietly. You gave him a confused look and he elaborated. “You could’ve easily told her that information yourself.” You shrugged and began to think up an answer but didn’t have time to respond. “Ready?” she asked you both as she returned. Both of you nodded and followed her towards the elevators.

You and Jake dropped her off at her room, making sure she was settled before heading down the hall to your own room. Jake sat on the bed closest to you, always letting you take the bed closest to the window. You began to lay out your suitcase, working quickly and quietly as you felt Jake’s eyes on you.

“Josh.” His voice was soft but strong. He didn’t seem mad, more concerned.

“Hmm?” you hummed, hoping he had something minor to ponder about or ask.

“You need to be honest with me please”, he said quietly.

You turned to face him. Sure enough, he wasn’t angry, just concerned. Maybe a little irritated, but nothing extreme. You’d seen him mad, and this wasn’t it.

You knew you needed to be honest, but to what degree?

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

writer's note: just a gentle reminder that everything I write is completely and utterly fiction

much love to my forever editor: @joshs-jonch

taglist: @eyelinerjake @radmads-gvf @gretavansara @everyglowinthetwilightknows

#seamstressfortheband #gvf fic #gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fic

[nn-ee-zz]

Hey nez! Ive DM'd you before and you opened my mind to re-examine how I think of design! My thought process about character design is still a work in progress, so for now I'm trying to just up my technical skills and I have to ask... how tf do you practice/do studies of things and not want to cry? I'm so tired of doing realism studies but when I see your beautiful sketches or inks of characters with beautiful faces and details I wanna learn everything! How do you do it?

Hey!

Studying from reality is important, yes, but unless you want your art to look incredibly realistic there is no need to place high expectations on how close the result looks to your reference. I rarely do realism studies myself.

Before starting a study you have to ask yourself what are you trying to improve. Don't answer 'everything' because it will overwhelm you. Pick something to focus on. If you want to study facial proportions, focus on the face and don't place expectations on how the hair looks like. If you want to study dynamic poses, draw them without bothering much with the accuracy of anatomy. If you want to study rendering, trace your reference (more on that later) and shade it from there.

Doing a study for the sake of a study is tedious and wont bring results just as fast. Now...

HOW I DO STUDIES WITHOUT EMOTIONAL PAIN

-Studies don’t have to be a copy

When I do studies, I oftentimes seek to capture the atmosphere the picture gives off rather than make it as accurately as possible. Here, my focus were facial proportions, meaning the rest could be improvised. I didn’t focus on the hands, nor the hair, nor the clothing, nor the anatomy of the arms/shoulders. Just the face. By making this study I also discovered her eyes are uneven in my drawing... Allow your studies to have mistakes and don’t let them bring you down! Drawing a mistake and recognizing it is a lot more helpful than not drawing anything at all.

-Testing things out is fun

Which artstyle would fit your drawing best? Try it out in your sketchbook! Many times, if needed! Don't overthink sketchy and unfinished lines. If it doesn’t suit you, you can leave it (or finish it later) and move on. This also serves as practice for drawing faces (in my case) and to once again find your mistakes and weak spots. I personally seem to have trouble making even eyes. But now that I noticed it, I can fix it.

-Small and fast

When things are particularly difficult for me, like anatomy or facial proportions, I usually allow myself to make those drawings smaller than usual. It allows you better control. I also draw them fast and don't focus too much on accuracy. With that method I can make many in a short period of time and eventually understand how to better approach it in bigger drawings. This counts more like practice than study, but it’s important.

-Not everything is for social media

It’s easy to make people believe I’ve got it all figured it out! I control what I post and not everything makes it online. Some things are only here as an example, and even behind that content there’s messier work. Don't be discouraged by other artists seemingly beautiful studies. Allow your sketches and studies to be ‘ugly’ sometimes.

-Trace things

Connecting to the point above, these usually shouldn’t be posted on social media. Sometimes when I see a face I like, I re-draw it or trace it. Real or drawn. Below I traced a frame of Milleniunm Acctress from Satoshi Kon. I admire the artstyle a lot. After tracing it, however, I came to the conclusion that while it’s pretty it doesn’t fit the atmosphere I’m looking for. Hence why I redrew it again by myself to the side.

I know tracing is a controversional topic but it’s extremely helpful in studies. Not only will it make you understand the shape better but also allow you to discover what works and doesn’t for the art you want to make.

This one is difficult to recommend for beginner artists, because you’re scared they might become too reliant on it or won’t know where to draw the limit.

Don't post it online (unless you have the permission from the artist)

Don't use the result as base for your own work.

Don't focus on one artist alone (try different approaches from several people)

Don't rely on artworks too much (you might pick up their mistakes)

That seems to be all! Having fun while studying helps a lot to keep your enthusiasm going, so draw characters you like as well. Even if they don't fit the style you want. Put it in your sketchbook and experiment, it counts as a study aswell.

Good luck, hopefully this reply isn't too long!

#ask #art advice #sketches

[im-a-gaymess]

How do I tell him?

Young!Tom Riddle x Male Reader.

7th Year.

Angsty Fluff? Contains suggestive/smut scenes.

Slight mention of violence (Just Tom wanting to punch the stupid out of people).

Summary: You and Tom are in love with each other, always were, though you only realize it after ending a pretty toxic relationship.

Word Count: 1786

A/N: I thought of this while listening to Strawberries & Cigarettes thought I'd share

[1:42 AM]

"Look, I'm not saying that I want their attention 24/7, it's just that, well, they don't ever try to make time for me. Even when I need them, they're never here. But I'm expected to be there for them at all times. I'm just so tired of it. I don't know what to do anymore." You sighed, lowering your head as your eyes wander around the ground.

You've lost sense of time, place even. Only once you stopped to take a breath did you note how late it became. As you raised your head you saw how dark it really was there. The clouds over the stars making their light nearly non existent, and the moon half hidden behind some trees.

And as your eyes travel all over the quiet, dark yet beautiful sky, Tom's attention is strictly fixed on you.

If only you knew how much that man felt at the moment. Really, he was almost overwhelmed with the amount of different emotions.

For one, how badly he wanted to punch your partner for how deeply they hurt you. He knew, from your previous vents, that there was so much more than them just having no time that bothered you. He wanted to make them cry out apologies with regret guilt for how they made you feel.

But also, he couldn't help but feel the need to hold you, keep you close to him, tell you how everything's going to be alright. How all he wants to do is protect you from all of the world's evil, to keep you from anything that could cause you harm.

Without you even noticing, Tom gently put his hand over yours, rubbing circles with his thumb on your hand. How can someone be so,, so endearing,, so loveable and be treated this way? How could someone ever look at him and want to use him? he thought, not brave enough to bring himself to tell you what he truly thinks of you.

"You know you deserve better, right, my love?" he asked, and you, all too familiar with the pet name reply with a little smile. "Would you be surprised if I said yes?" you chuckled, turning to face him, the sight of the boy in front of you making your smile grow a little bigger, causing the other to look at you with loving eyes.

"I still love them, though, I don't even know why, but I do. I still hope they're going to change, even when I know they won't" you continued, a short, awkward laugh leaving your lips.

"Believe me, sweetheart, I know exactly how that feels." he smiled at you, gently stroking your face with his free hand as the two of you continued to talk about everything, and anything, enjoying the company you gave each other.

[Following day, 4:27 PM]

Who knew that drawing in the library's restricted section would be so relaxing? Sketching animals, book covers, objects and even some random fellow housemates. It wasn't so bad, right?

But let's be honest, you were only using it as a means of distraction, trying to get yourself to forget about the fact that you're going to break up with your s/o. You don't even know how Tom managed to convince you.

Of course, it's for the best, you know that. Doesn't change the fact that you feel so damn guilty about it. I mean, why do you even? It's not like they value you, it's not like they won't have other people lined up to take their bullshit right the moment you decide to leave.

Okay, that's it. You're doing it, you're definitely doing it. You mumbled to yourself. After, of course, another art session in your little distraction place.

[5:54 PM]

What's the worst that can happen if I confess? I mean, it's not like the world would end, not like the world would explode and I'd be buried underneath layers of rock and lava.

You had him feeling something he's never even imagined he'd feel; he was nervous. His forehead full of sweat, causing his hair to stick on to him. What are you putting him through?

Friendship...That's all I am to him. I'm just a friend to [Y/N]. He only sees me as a friend. Nothing more than that. Maybe I shouldn't. I probably shouldn't.

[6:11 PM]

To his surprise, Tom heard a knock on his door. He most definitely wasn't in the mood to see, yet even talk to anyone.

"Tommy? My love, are you in there?" You questioned quite loudly, making sure to be heard from across the wall.

That petname, you have no idea what it made him want to do. Did he want to have you underneath him, touch every little bit of your body? Did he want to show you that you're his? Hear you whine and beg for him to kiss you; and so, so much more than you could imagine.

It's not the time to get lost in such sinister thoughts, Tom, he mumbled to himself, finally walking over the room to let you in.

"Hello, darli―" before he could finish, you rushed into his arms. Wrapping your hands around your friend's waist as your head rested under his own. "I missed you all day, dummie" you spoke quietly, finally happy to spend time with him.

He was quite surprised to say the least, you weren't the type to enjoy going for any type of physical affection of any type, unless it was under certain circumstances. Especially the hug being so long.

He wasn't complaining, he adored it, but he couldn't help but worry. Was something wrong? Were you hurt?

"Love, as much as I enjoy moments like this, is there anything you need to tell me? Should I kick anyone's arse?" he raised his brow, looking down at you.

You shook your head, never letting go of the taller man, a smile appearing on your face. How cute he is when he's worried, you thought.

That's pretty much how the rest of the day night went. The two of you in each other's embrace, spending it in utter silence, just glad to be in your own little world together.

You told him, before going back to your dorm, about how you finally broke up with that douchebag, and was your man proud.

The couple next days, weeks even, went by quickly. You and Tom would hang by the library after classes to complete and give help with what the other might have been stuck on.

Tom walks towards you, so dangerously close, you can practically feel his lips on yours. A hand's glued on the wall next to you, right above your head. Your body pressed against a door, his knee right in between your legs, brushing against your crotch. His other hand pulling you closer by your waist, soon planting kisses all over your jaw and neck. You can't help but melt into his touch, his lips- you just want more, more of him.

You gasp, practically jumping up your bed. It was only a dream, wasn't it you thought, sighed in slight disappointment. You wouldn't like to admit it to yourself, but you've been thinking about Tom in a certain way lately.

That only made things worse for you. Because according to you, he would never see you that way. Because the way you saw it, Tom only ever thought of you as a friend.

And so thought he. He was just as disappointed every time he'd dream of the two of you being intimate, romantically, sexually, it didn't matter. He was just as devastated when he woke up. Always went back to sleep hoping those wonderful dreams would go on.

Both of you had a few dreams like those. Some were a whole lot sweeter. Dates together, just the two of you softly making out with the sound of classical music in the background. All of this causing the two of you a bittersweet feeling, thinking that all of this was just hopeless dreams, impossible to come true.

════════════════════

Starry night, you and him, the lake, the full moon shining bright. There's nothing that could ruin this delightful night. It feels like a dream, so much that you even question the reality of what's going on.

"Is this...real?" you ask Tom, not taking your eyes off the sky you so dearly loved. He raised a brow at you, looking at you in a clearly confused expression.

"If it wasn't, we'd be doing more than just stargazing, love" he chuckled, really hoping you'd take it as a joke.

"What would we be doing then, darling?" you question once again, mocking the way he calls you petnames while at it, a visibly evil smile painted on your face.

Tom takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, turning to face his pretty boy. "Do you really want to know, [Y/N]?"

The usage of your name kind of, just a little bit, frightened you. Not in a necessarily bad way, more like in a 'I have no idea what to expect next' way.

"What would you do if I kissed you?" he smirked at you, feeling oddly confident, though your silence and shocked face slowly faded. He was about to mutter apologies 'till you let out a mumble. "I'd like that" you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What was that, my prince? Would you kindly repeat that for me?" he told you with a straight face, making you wonder if he truly didn't hear you. If only you knew the amount of pride he felt at that moment, barely four words and his mind wandering to so, so many things he knew the both of you would like.

The shade of your cheeks changed a bit, was it from embarrassment? Or from the idea that he may actually like you back. Either way, you did repeat what you had told him, blushing even harder as there was an ever-growing smile on your face.

Soon enough, Tom sat up, leaned against a tree nearby. Motioning on his lap, he asked you to sit there, and happily you did.

You've never seen him smile like that. He looked at you like you're the only person in the world. His hands firmly on your cheeks, slowly pulling you in.

Your arms instinctively went around his neck, tilting your head to the side in order to deepen the kiss.

Once you pulled away to take a breath, his hands rested on your lower waist, his eyes staring at you lovingly as they always did.

"You know I'm no good with words." you looked at him exactly the way he was looking at you; you were truly each other's everything. "I know, my prince" his hand wandered around his loverboy's hair, soon pulling him in yet another kiss.

He knew he loved you, and now he was sure you loved him too. Only thing is, he wasn't sure how to ask you to take over the world with him, but for now, he was happy with what you had, and so were you.

#i loved the process of writing this #I feel like Tom would really treasure the person hes in love with #harry potter x gender neutral reader #harry potter x male reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x gendernatural reader #tom marvolo riddle #writing #scenarios #tom riddle headcanon #harry potter #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction

[forzalando]

Flustered | Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x F!Reader Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: mentions of underage drinking and alcohol, tickling, making out Summary: Your flirty friendship with Fred Weasley comes to a resolution after an argument surrounding the Yule Ball that took place all those years ago. 

A/N: hi friends! this is a Fred Weasley fic based on a tik tok i saw last night (all credit for the bolded line goes to the creator of the tik tok). also thank you to @gcdric for discussing this with me very late last night, i hope it turned out well omg i’m NERVOUS. anyway! off we go. please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist! i’m updating it since i was on hiatus for awhile! love you guys!

As you sat on the couch of the Burrow, your eyes fixated on the many pictures in the Weasley’s living room, your mind began to drift off with thoughts of the freckled, red-headed boy sat in front of you giggling with his siblings.

There was something extraordinarily special about your friendship with Fred Weasley. After ten plus years of him being the most important person in your life, ever since your first day at Hogwarts when he tripped over your robes as you and your fellow first years hurried into the Sorting Ceremony, you couldn’t imagine life without him.

You had been through so much together; every Hogwarts experience there was to be had, first kisses, first heartbreaks, the Second Great Wizarding War, he was by your side through everything.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N? You look to be thinking entirely too hard for my liking,” Fred sassed, breaking you out of your trance.

“Too hard for your liking?” you retaliated. “What do you care what I’m thinking about?”

“It’s supposed to be a relaxing weekend! You’re much too deep in thought to be relaxing, so of course I care.”

“Well, if you must know, I was thinking about you, Freddie.”

“Carry on then, love. I’ve always wished for your thoughts to be consumed by me.”

With a cheeky wink, Fred went back to a game of exploding snap and you didn’t need to watch to know that Ginny was absolutely kicking his arse. However, you didn’t miss the sly smile that George gave you when Fred’s attention was diverted from you.

It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to flirt with one another. In fact, you would dare to say it was the most predominant form of communication between the two of you. There was the occasional time or two where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same, but he’d always look away quickly or press a kiss to your cheeks instead of your lips, laughing it off as the two of you caught up in a moment that would cross a line that could never be crossed, though you so desperately wanted to.

After another round of exploding snap, Ginny said her goodbyes and apparated back to her flat, but not before promising that she wouldn’t miss anymore family dinners for quidditch practice, which you knew would happen inevitably but smiled nonetheless at her enthusiasm. You’d been a regular appearance at the weekly get-together for as long as you could remember, you were practically part of the family so you could say with appropriate accuracy that Ginny definitely missed dinner more than all of her siblings combined due to her busy schedule.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to head back as well,” George mused, eyeing the leftover pies in the kitchen. “Are you staying at ours tonight, Y/N?”

“I’d love nothing more. Besides, I didn’t get to play Fred in exploding snap and I want to knock his ego down just a little bit more.”

George linked arms with you and Fred, laughing about his brother’s awful skills as you apparated to their flat above the shop.

You’d spent many a nights at the twins’ flat over the past couple of years. After the war, you had moved in for a while until you found a job and managed to rent your own place. But, they never got rid of your bed that took up a large corner of their living room, which came in handy after weekly Weasley dinners when you just wanted to spend a bit more time with your favorite boys.

“I’m absolutely knackered,” George said once the three of you had settled on the couch. “I think I might go to bed now, if I’m honest. Besides, I want to be up early to work on those new design sketches for the storefront.”

“George Weasley, you have never gotten up before 10 o’clock on a Sunday in your entire life,” you scoffed.

“There’s a first for everything, Y/N. Goodnight to you and Freddie!”

As George turned away from you both, he faked a yawn and when he was sure Fred wasn’t looking, winked back at you to further confirm your suspicion that he wanted you to be alone with Fred.

He had just about had enough of the tension between you both and took every chance he got to get the two of you alone, by any means necessary.

When you heard George’s bedroom door close, you noticed Fred scoot closer to you on the couch until your legs were touching. He slung his arm over your shoulders and you swung your legs up to lay across his lap.

“What were you thinking about earlier? While Gin and I were playing by the fireplace?” Fred wondered aloud.

“Oh, I was looking at all the pictures on the walls at your Mum and Dad’s. I saw one from you and George’s first day at Hogwarts and I was thinking about how we first met.”

“Hmm, so you were thinking about one of the most embarrassing moments in my life?”

“Please, you’ve done much, much worse. Remember that time in our sixth year when you tried to outdrink George after we won the Slytherin match and you – ”

“Ah, ah, ah, I thought we agreed to never speak of that incident again,” Fred said as he visibly shuddered.

“I was just pointing out that I can think of quite a few moments that were far more embarrassing than tripping on my robes.”

“You’re one to talk! Don’t you remember our fifth year when you and George were running from Filch and you knocked Wood to the ground? Bloody broke his arm, you were so lucky Madame Pomfrey had him fixed up before our next match or he would’ve had a heart attack.”

A loud laugh escaped your lips as you covered your face in embarrassment; that was the year you had followed Oliver around like a lost puppy, although your schoolgirl crush paled in comparison to how you’d felt for Fred back then and now as well but neither twin would ever let you live it down.

“Do you remember the Yule Ball? When Flitwick caught you trying to spike the punch and you slipped and fell in the middle of the dance floor?” You chuckled at the memory, even if the Yule Ball was an event you had tried to forget.

“You were so mad at me that night and the whole week before, I was terribly distracted. If we had been on good terms I would’ve gotten away with it and the slipping never would have happened.”

“Well, it’s your own fault we were fighting! I still can’t believe you didn’t ask me to go with you.”

“Oi, it’s not my fault when you never said you wanted me to ask you.”

“I thought I had made it painfully obvious when I asked you every morning at breakfast if you’d found a date yet and told you that I didn’t have one either.”

Fred threw his head back and laughed, the thought of your shocked face when he had asked Angelina was too priceless a memory to ever forget.

“You were so jealous,” Fred mumbled.

“Jealous?!” you screeched. “I wasn’t jealous, I was annoyed that I had to spend all night with some Durmstrang tosser stepping on my toes. We’ve had this argument literally a million times.”

“No, you were definitely jealous. You shot poor Angie daggers the whole night and she’s such a lovely girl.”

“I shot her daggers because she hogged you and I didn’t get to dance with my best friend a single time at the only Ball we ever had at school.”

“I would’ve asked you to dance if you weren’t mad at me, and you know she was only dancing with me to make George jealous, even if he was oblivious.”

You smiled at that; you knew Angelina only had eyes for George and that going with Fred was some elaborate ruse. Shockingly, it ended up working, and he and Angelina have been together ever since.

“Still think you were jealous,” Fred challenged, poking you in the exact spot on your abdomen that he knew you were ticklish.

“Fred Weasley, for the last time, I was not jealous,” you emphasized as you poked him back.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, love,” he said lowly, a daring glint in his eye.

Never one to heed warnings or follow directions, you poked him again and within seconds he had you pinned underneath him on the couch, his fingers trailing up and down your sides as you couldn’t help but laugh boisterously beneath him.

“Fred – ” you gasped. “Freddie, please, I actually think I might pee on your couch.”

“Not until you admit you were jealous that I asked Angelina!”

You shook your head, the combination of laughter and trying to catch your breath kept you from firing back a witty remark.

After a few moments, you simply couldn’t take anymore and shouted out, “FINE. Fine, you win.”

“What was that, lovey? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, fine, I admit it. I was jealous that you asked Angelina when I wanted you to ask me,” you grumbled, struggling to catch your breath in between words.

“See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You glared up at him and moved to push him off of you when you realized just how close his face was to yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could count each individual freckle splattered across his nose and cheeks. Almost instinctually, your eyes flickered down to his lips, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of staring, so you quickly looked away.

Fred noticed that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and, in true Fred Weasley fashion, couldn’t resist a flirty joke.

“You really want to kiss me right now, don’t you?” Fred chuckled.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “yeah, I do.”

Surging forward, you pressed your lips to his and immediately wove your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. You were so tired; tired of the constant flirting and feeling as if you would forever have to love him from afar while he lived his life blissfully unaware of how much it hurt you to hide how you felt.

His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him; the raw emotion in the way he desperately kissed you left little doubt in your mind that he had wanted this for as long as you had. His hands slipped under your shirt and his fingers blazed a trail of fire up your spine; a breathy moan escaped your lips but Fred swallowed the sound with his mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling you even closer.

A scream from behind the couch caused you to jump apart, chests heaving and hair sticking up every possible way. You sat up to look over the back of the couch to see George Weasley, looking visibly shaken and guilty, with his hands covering his eyes.

“Oh my god, I leave you alone for thirty minutes and you’re about to shag on my bloody couch. Jesus, ok, let me just, uh, well, I’ve probably ruined the mood, haven’t I?”

“George,” you hissed. “What are you doing sneaking around, I thought you were going to bed?!”

“Yeah, I said I was,” he said sheepishly as he uncovered his eyes, “but I might have been eavesdropping on your conversation. When I heard it go all quiet, I thought I’d come out and see if you two fools had fallen asleep, but clearly, that was not the case.”

“Eavesdropping? I swear to Merlin, George, you’re a ten year old boy. I can’t believe you! Of all the immature and invasive things to do, my God.”

“Well, pardon me, I just wanted to see if my idiot brother would finally grow some balls and tell you he’s in love with you!”

“I’m not sure what you’re on about but that doesn’t mean you can just sneak up on people,” you chided.  “Fred, would you please back me up here, what is wrong with you – ”

You turned around to pull Fred into the argument only to find him sitting on top of the coffee table with a dazed look in his eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Fred, are you alright?” you asked worriedly.

He slowly lifted his head and looked into your eyes; you could see just how flushed his face was now that he wasn’t staring at the floor and good Godric, he was as red as the hair on his head.

“I…I…You,” he stammered. “You kissed me?”

“Yes, I suppose that is what happened,” you muttered sheepishly.

“Y/N Y/L/N…you…you kissed me?”

“Freddie, what the hell is the matter with you?”

George burst into laughter and you whirled back around to glare at him, however, this time, he didn’t hush up like he usually did.

“Like I said before, he’s in love with you, and now he can’t even form a coherent sentence because you kissed him, this is golden. Ol’ cock sure Freddie, a pile of mush because of a little makeout sesh, I’ve got to send an owl to Lee…” George trailed off as he turned and rushed back towards his bedroom.

You took another look at Freddie and smiled at the lovestruck look on his face. He was shaking his head in his hands and you saw the redness on his neck as well, which only happened when he was well and truly flustered.

“This is so humiliating,” he groaned as you sat down next to him.

“I think it’s rather cute, if that makes you feel any better,” you said as you chuckled and placed a hand on his thigh.

He removed his head from his hands and looked at you adoringly, the giddy smile on his face ignited butterflies in your stomach and your heart beat wildly in your chest.  

“All the times I imagined how this would pan out…it definitely wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I mean, not that I’m mad about it, it was incredibly sexy how you just grabbed me and kissed me, but I wasn’t supposed to be a bumbling fool afterwards.”

A moment of silence washed over the both of you as Fred intertwined your hands and steadily held your gaze.

“George was right, you know. I am in love with you. Have been for quite a long time, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, in the spirit of honesty, I guess I should say that I’m in love with you too.”

“Bloody brilliant,” he sighed as he leaned in to kiss you again, but you stopped him just before your lips touched.

“You’re not going to pass out or anything if we kiss again, are you?”

“No promises, love, but I’ll try my best.”

taglist: @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting @fortisfiliae @thoseofgreatambition @wildfire-whizbangs @woakiees 

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #lumosbarnes #tw: alcohol

[zulivaris]

Art Block tips that helped me

 I’ve recently experienced art block after 3 or so months of overcoming my last one. Thankfully this block only lasted a few days thanks to some things I’ve observed and noted down from the previous time. So I’m sharing these few tips in hopes that it might help someone get unstuck :D!

First and foremost if you’re tired, sad or anxious don’t be surprised that you can’t make art, go and take care of yourself by treating yourself with kindness and patience, the sketchbooks and canvases will wait for you :)

The tips are under here:

Separate art studies from the creative time:  When you do art studies you’re there to focus on specific things, learn and understand how things work so you can apply them later in your art. Studies take a lot of energy and focus and are the opposite of the creative "flow” of making your own pieces. If you combine the two the results are either unfocused studies or stiff drawings. When you sit down at your desk ask yourself “Do I want to learn something new or do I want to create something of my own?”

When you have an idea don’t be afraid of being messy: Let’s say you want to make a picture of several cats kolo dancing in the moonlight. How do you go about doing this? Well since you came up with the idea you already have a vague image in your mind, sketch it out with simple shapes, stick figures, circle and spheres etc Don’t worry about cat anatomy, or the dancer’s moves, sketch out the essence of it. This method removes the need to be perfect or accurate. 

Ok after the messy sketch then what? Well now that you have sketched out the essence of your idea (and hopefully had fun doing so) now you go on to look for references! You put the creative process on pause and you can do a few brief studies if you need to: anatomy, color schemes, values, poses. Pick out a few of your favorites but don't obsess over them, they are a guide, a tool.

You know much more than you think. You’ve probably been drawing for a few years now. You’ve probably done some studies and drawn more than one type of subject. Then you have already internalized some of that information. I used to be obsessed with capturing the minute detail of the subject, and not be able to draw ANYTHING without reference. Instead of a useful tool, references became another obstacle to my creativity. That’s perfectionism my friend, and that’s no good. Here is an exercise a good friend of mine offered: Draw a few characters, animals and objects from imagination. Make sure that the subjects have no personal value to you (no ocs for example) so that if you make a mistake you won’t feel bad about it. Make the process relaxed and comfortable, pour a nice cup of joe, listen to your favorite music ... You will notice that you do indeed know how to draw some things without reference, and it’ll help with your confidence. 

The more you do studies the more you understand This seems evident but the more you understand your subject the freer you can be and the easier it’ll be to draw it from imagination in the future. If you really struggle with something to the point of frustration (as in you can’t get it right even with reference) It means you have to study it. Have a study list, for example: hands, perspective, color theory etc. And one of those days you want to study pick something from the list, and look for videos on youtube or useful sites like line of action etc. Only study one thing at the time. You can go from studying hands to studying arms since they’re more immediately connected, but you can’t study hands and then jump to learning perspective right after. Trust me you can learn perfectly fine with the resources online, and I’m sure you’re clever enough to do it :D

Mistakes don’t mean you “suck”  I’ve noticed that the two most common causes for art block are perfectionism and lack of self-confidence.  The two can often go in tandem which is worse :’D But let me remind you of something, you can fix your piece along the whole process. Use erasers, lasso tools, liquify , select, paint it all over etc If something looks off to you then you also know deep inside how to fix it. Useful ways to see what clunks: flip canvas horizontally (helps with placement, proportions), turn the image to grayscale (helps to check values and where your eye tends to look), look at your image in thumbnail size and ask yourself if it’s clear, see the pose’s silhouette and ask yourself if you can tell what the character is doing etc. Don’t fret, everything can always be fixed :)

Perfectionism, sometimes it stops you before you begin Perfectionism causes you to overwork a piece, it makes you draw less, it makes art stressful, it brings insecurity. Let’s remove it with a simple exercise. It can be combined with the “draw things from imagination” once you’ve drawn something you like: dont do line art, don’t shade it, keep it as simple and crude as possible and then...post it. Yes, post it. You’re not at your best? You’re only human, this will help you embrace that very human side of you. You make mistakes. So what? The more mistakes you make the more you know what you need to study and the better at art you become. Mistakes are there to show us what we need to learn. See them as another tool and not a sign of failure.

Make the process as enjoyable as possible: You like art. You love drawing. Never forget this. Otherwise why are you drawing if you don’t enjoy it? It’s easy to fall prey to the mentality of those relatable memes that “art= suffering” or “I can’t even draw the other eye”. No no no my friends, these messages are fueling your insecurities instead of overcoming them. Let me tell you what, art is fun. It is. Art is fun, because I decided to make it fun again. And you should decide on that too. Personally I adore lineart but my hand-eye coordination is lacking to do it digitally, so....I just skipped it. Yes. I skipped it. I do the sketch, I clean it up a bit and then jump onto color which I adore. It allowed me to draw more and more freely. When I draw I listen to music, make strokes with the rhythm, I take breaks often and I drink my favorite iced teas. If you don’t like coloring do it in grayscale, if you love lineart then do that etc It doesn’t mean you won’t learn your weak points in the future with studies and practice, but you won’t let your weaknesses prevent you from drawing at all. No no, you won’t let them. You draw because you want to, despite of them.

Don’t wait for inspiration, provoke it  Inspiration is not a divine and capricious muse. You make inspiration. It’s easy just collect all the things you like, music, artists, objects, characters, animals, patterns, plants etc Make boards on pinterest or similar sites, combine things you like. You like suits? You like birds? You can draw a bird in a suit, or a bird-inspired suit design, there is frankly a lot of ideas that can spring up from little things like these.

When a project stops being enjoyable either pause it for now or move on to the next thing. Pieces aren’t precious. They’re not “the one time I got x right” they are one of many. This advice goes mainly to hobbyists who can afford the luxury of passing to a new project. I have a WIP of a character who is overly complicated (I enjoy a challenge from time to time) sitting for half a month. I sometimes come back to it and add something... but as soon as it starts to create discomfort and insecurity instead of enjoyment I move onto something else. In the meantime I created 3 or 4 new pieces. If I had waited on finishing that piece I would have been severely creatively and physically exhausted. The art comes from you, not inspiration. The more art you make the better you become.

That’s about it :D I know it’s long but I prefer to be thorough and cover all the possibilities. If you have read of this: Thank you so much I hope this helps you at least a bit, if it helps only 1 other person I’d still be very happy. Have a nice one, and kick art block’s butt!

#art block #art block tips #art block advice #art advice #art help #BloggityDiary #art reference #I hope this will help someone out #This will also help me remember my own advice sksksk

[buckybarnesdiaries]

bucky barnes x reader. masterlist.

part 1 — part 2 (soon)

a / n. this is a series of 15 mini-drabbles to celebrate the 500 followers' milestone, based on one word for each story. this first part contains 8, and the next one contains 7. it was supposed to be posted one story per day, but by that way, it'd take me to last an eternity to post other works / requests.

words. 1.533.

warning, tags. none, just a bunch of fluffy and cute situations with bucky.

join my tag list.

necklace;

It was the first time since you started to date that Bucky had to leave for a mission. Neither of the two of you knew when he'd be back, and that got you worried than ever. You were conscious of what he did for a living when you met him, but you couldn't help but feel scared. Next to the front door of your apartment, Bucky left his backpack on the floor, leaning to cup your cheeks on his palms and kiss your lips tortuously slow.

“I'll be okay, (Y/N)”. He murmured keeping his eyes closed.

“You better”.

Your hidden threat made him giggle. The soldier felt goosebumps bristling his skin as your fingertips toured his neck blindly, just to put in place the chain of his necklace. But soon, Bucky stopped your moves to take it off from him and place his dog tags on you.

“I'll come back for them”. He promised, fixing his pale blue orbs on yours, holding your hands to bring them to his lips and place fond kisses on every knuckle of both. “I love you, don' forget it, okay?”

“I won't... How could I, Buck?”

eclipsed;

Bucky was sweating, still not believing he was about to get married to the love of his life. He was on the altar, waiting for you and surrounded by all of your friends in common. Steve had had to help him with a panic attack he had suffered while dressing up, thinking that maybe you could change your opinion at the last moment. He couldn't blame you. But all those doubts vanished at the second you crossed the huge, heavy doors of the church. Your beauty eclipsed him, wearing a white lace wedding dress and seeming like you floated over the floor. Just like an angel.

His heart jumped. His oceanic eyes got covered in tears. A giggle escaped his lips, stretching a hand towards you, still praying it's not a dream. And you noticed the tension and the nervousness running his veins, leaning forward to kiss his cheek with all the love you felt for your future husband.

“Can't wait to say yes”. You whispered into his ear, causing Bucky to lace his arms around you and embrace you tight and tenderly. “I love you, James, from now and forever”.

sunset;

After his most recent nightmare and walking all grumpy from one side of another around your house, you decided to cheer him up only like you can do. With reluctance, you managed to get him out of your apartment and drag him to your car. Bucky was like a child, cross-armed, lips puckered and frowning annoyed. He tried to hide the fact that he had another nightmare to not worry you, but you weren't stupid.

Thinking that glimpsing the beach throughout the large front window would make him feel happier, your boyfriend just reclined himself on the seat, causing you to roll your eyes. That mood changed as soon as Bucky was sitting on the sand, between your legs, tho. His back was resting against your chest and his neck was wrapped by one of your arms, watching fascinated the sunset on the horizon. He wouldn't recognize it, but he felt much better hearing the waves crashing into the shore, while you stroked his scalp tenderly using the tip of your nails.

“You're welcome, grumpy mummy”.

clingy;

You didn't want to drink, but Sam and Sarah wanted to celebrate that the family business was picking up. On another occasion, you wouldn't mind, but Bucky was there. So, when everything started to spin around, you lead your clumsy steps to the edge of the harbor, having a sit there and let the soft breeze help you.

“Stop”. You heard from behind.

“Uh?”

“You're stealing my antisocial personality”. Bucky chuckled, taking a seat by your side. “What's up? Why are you here all alone?”

“Truth or lie?” You asked tilting your head towards him, raising both eyebrows.

“Truth”. He scoffed as if it wasn't obvious.

“I'm too clingy when I'm drunk”.

“Can't see the problem there”.

You chuckled, shaking your head inevitably, causing him to pucker his lips with a funny grimace.

“What?”

“Tru—”.

“Truth”.

“I've been all night wanting to rub your beard”.

Bucky exploded in loud laughter, not believing your words until you put your hands on his jawline. “God... It's so soft”.

His laughs increased, causing you to burn in shame. “No more drinks for you, ma'am...”

But the fact was that he turned to you, so it could be easy to caress his face.

safe;

Bucky was deadly tired on the sofa, warmly cuddled between your arms. A while ago, he stopped to pay attention to the movie, turning his back to the TV to hide his exhausted expression on your chest. You placed the cozy blanket over your bodies, making sure it covered both of you, being aware that tonight you'd sleep there. You felt sorry just at the thought of waking him up, seeing him peacefully breathing and his face more relaxed than the last few days.

Shutting off the TV and stretching an arm above your head, you turned off the small lamp on the auxiliary table close to the sofa, before getting comfier by Bucky's side. Your boyfriend purred delighted, still sleepy, as your fingers got tangled on his hair and started to scratch his scalp slowly, urging you somehow to place a leg over his waist, so he could settle between both a little more closely.

“Feel better?”

“I feel safe”. He replied in a low breath, to exhale the sweet scent concentrated on your neck.

“You're safe, James. You're at home”. Your calmed tone made him sigh, snuggling you strongly.

stay;

You snapped awake because of some knocks on the front door. Tossing the sheets to a side of the bed, you grabbed the gun under your pillow. It was stupidity. If somebody wanted to kill you, that would be the last thing they'd do: knock the door. You walked slowly, step by step, through the main hallway aiming to the door, more than ready to shoot your assailant.

“It's... Bucky”. You heard from the other side.

Sighing in relief and closing your eyes for a split second, you left the weapon on the dinner table in the living room. Not doubting on opening the door, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when you noticed the reddened mark around his left eye and cheek.

“Can I, uh... stay tonight with you?” Bucky inquired, licking his upper lip ashamed, bowing his eyes down to his boots covered in dust.

“C'mon, Sergeant”. You invited him to walk in, using such a sweet tone, while holding his cold hand.

He looked like shit but felt much better when his arms got wrapped around your waist and middle-back, hiding his face into your neck. Kicking the door shut, you embraced him tighter to your body.

notebook;

You were lying on the opposite side to Bucky on the sofa, but keeping your legs tangled. It was a rainy evening with nothing to do and you decided to start to read the book you bought last week. Your boyfriend was silently doing something in a notebook. Maybe writing memories, maybe doodling, you didn't know. But the third time you caught him staring at you, you had to ask.

“What?”

“Uh... nothing”. He whispered focused on the paper in front of his eyes.

“Whaaat?” You kicked his right leg with your bare foot causing him to chuckle.

“Nothing!” Bucky replied using the same playfully tone of voice.

Putting the book on the coffee table, you sat up to lie on top of him, cuddling between his legs and resting your head on his chest. Glancing to the sketch of yourself he was drawing, you raised your heart-eyes to his. It was such a piece of art. The drawing and Bucky. Both.

“I learned in Romania. It kept me sane sometimes”. He confessed, leaning to place a kiss on your forehead. “I want to remember you forever”.

marshmallow;

“Truth or dare?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, leaning on the table just like you did, challenging him. He was trying to read your mind to figure out which were your intentions.

“Dare”. He answered firmly.

“Put twenty marshmallows in your mouth”.

The soldier stared at you in silence, watching him lick his inner cheek and push it with the tip of his tongue. He nodded his head then, grabbing the plastic bag without losing eye contact, to start to place —one by one— the sweets into his mouth. In less than thirty seconds, he looked like a squirrel with his cheek swollen. Bucky squinted at you again, triumphant.

“Hold on, I need to capture this moment”. You laughed, catching your phone to take a picture.

When the flash went off, he spitted a marshmallow like a shotgun. And you couldn't help but laugh.

“C'mon, Bu—”.

You didn't finish the sentence, being hit by another marshmallow slightly wet because of his saliva. Your grimace turned into a funny disgust, grabbing it back to throw it to his face.

“You're like a five years old in a body fos— STOP!” You ended up giggling as he spitted you the third one.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader

[iam93percentstardust]

Haii so i have a promot for you, it’s stuckony and it’s based around a carrie Underwood song called “ Renegade Runaway “

So basically Steve and Bucky are outlaw, who rob trains, banks, and gamble

Tony is a sharffes and teacher kid, who is also one hell of a gunslinger (like Doc holiday,bat masterson, and Wyatt earp), he’s also a blacksmith

Also happy early birthday! 💙

Thank you for the birthday wishes! This ended up being a lot sadder than I originally intended and I wasn't able to include everything, but I hope it still lives up to expectations!

As always, this fic is also on ao3

~

Tony has his pistol out almost before the door closes behind him. He peers into the darkness of the yard behind the smithy, silently complaining about his eyes taking too long to adjust from the bright fires to the gathering twilight. It puts him at a disadvantage for whoever is waiting out there for him.

“Aw darlin’, is that any way to greet your two favorite outlaws?” someone drawls.

Tony snorts and holsters the pistol again. “Two outlaws, you might be, but my favorites? Far from it,” he snarks.

Bucky Barnes steps into the light spilling out from the window, hand dramatically placed over his heart. “Tony, that cuts me to the quick. Really, the cruelty of your words, they break my heart.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, unimpressed. He turns his back on Bucky and locks the smithy door. Peter will leave through the front when he’s finished sweeping and extinguished the lights. Everything else is already stored in the backroom for the night, so there’s no reason he needs to worry about leaving the door unlocked, though he certainly could. Timely isn’t the sort of town that invites trouble, not like some of the lawless towns further west.

When he turns back around, Bucky has moved closer, nearly looming over him. Tony leans back against the door, letting Bucky press against him. Bucky will do it anyway, it’s easier to just give in to him now instead of putting up a fight they both know he doesn’t want.

“You gonna apologize for bein’ so mean?” Bucky breathes into his ear.

“No,” Tony says flatly, crossing his arms. “It’s the honest truth.”

It’s not. Nearly everyone in Timely knows Tony’s sweet on Bucky and his partner, who must be around here somewhere since Bucky mentioned both of them. But it wouldn’t do to be too easy for them. He’s not one of Natasha’s girls after all, giggly and flirtatious and willing to turn their skirts up for a little bit of coin. He likes to make his boys work to get him soft and smiling.

“Now that’s just an outright lie,” someone else says. Tony turns his head to see Steve’s bright blue eyes much closer than he’d expected given that he’d only sensed one of them in the yard earlier. “You love us.”

“Don’t,” Tony denies, turning his head in the other direction so he doesn’t have to see either of them. Steve may be right, Tony isn’t nearly as annoyed by them as he pretends, but loving the two of them makes his life so very hard that it’s easier to pretend he doesn’t have any feelings for them.

“Tony,” Steve murmurs.

Tony stubbornly refuses to look at them. These two outlaws waltz into town all too rarely, typically on the heels of some mess that’ll raise the rewards on their heads yet again, and turn Tony’s life upside down for the brief time they’re in Timely, only to break his heart when they inevitably leave. Sometimes, he wishes he’d never met them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers eventually, keeping his eyes fixed on the side of the saloon down the street. “The sheriff’s in town tonight. If he catches wind of you—you know Howard wants to be the one to bring you in.”

“Your father’s on a wild goose chase, honey,” Bucky says. “He got word we were hiding out in Howling Canyon.”

“Are you?”

“Do we look like we’re in Howling Canyon?” Steve asks amusedly.

“No. I meant when you’re not—” He stops, biting back the last few words. When they’re not in his bed, he means, but he can’t bring himself to say that. After an awkward pause, he finishes, “When you’re not in town.”

“No,” Steve assures him. “We’re staying—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Tony interrupts, finally turning back to look at them. They both look worried, and he wonders if they know how tired he is of this game they’ve been playing for five years. “You know I’ll have to tell Howard if he asks.”

Not that Howard would. The sheriff is one of the few people who doesn’t know that his son houses the two outlaws when they’re in Timely. He couldn’t even imagine that his son would dare defy him under his nose like that. But both Steve and Bucky know what happens when Tony doesn’t jump to Howard’s every order. They were the ones who took him to Dr. Banner’s after all, after Howard broke his arm for taking too long to finish the horseshoes for Jericho.

Steve’s eyes are stormy at the reminder of Howard’s wrath. Bucky’s mouth is set in a tight line. Neither of them approve of Howard. They’ve told Tony once before that they would take him away from here if only he would let them. But he won’t. There’s too much keeping him in Timely: his mother and Rhodey, even young Peter, who’s only been apprenticed to him for a few months. He can’t just go gallivanting off into the sunset, no matter how badly he wants to. And besides, he knows that the only reason they ask is so that he can get away from Howard. He doesn’t delude himself there. They’d let him go with them just out of range of Howard’s reach and then they’d cut him loose. It’s pity that makes them ask, not—not anything else.

“Just—” He sighs and ducks out from under Bucky’s arm. “Come on. Howard isn’t stupid. He’ll figure out you’re not in Howling Canyon eventually, and I’d like both your cocks at least once before he does.”

~

Tony once had aspirations of being one of the best gunslingers in the west. He had the best aim this side of the Mississippi and he was quick. He’d been planning on making a name for himself, same as his father had.

Bucky’s bullet through his left thigh had put an end to that dream real quick.

He’d been young—hardly even an adult—foolhardy, and unwilling to listen to Jarvis’ warnings that he wasn’t ready to take on Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who’d been terrorizing the towns in their small territory for the last three years. He’d been so convinced that he would be the one to bring them in and collect on the bounty. He’d studied their movements, known how they thought, and when Timely had gotten word that the two outlaws had robbed a bank in Faircreek, he’d ridden off on his own toward Harshaw instead of Tombstone like all the evidence pointed to.

He’d been right; the trail to Tombstone had been a false one. But he hadn’t had long to rest on his laurels because he’d been noticed. Steve and Bucky hadn’t been as lax in their vigilance as he’d assumed and they’d lain in wait for him, ambushed him, and ultimately shot him.

To this day, he doesn’t know what drove the two outlaws to take him in instead of leaving him out there to die in the desert, but they had. They’d carefully nursed him back to health, taken care of him when his injury had led to fever, and eventually, after nearly two months together, brought him to their bed with sweet words and sweeter kisses. He’d thought he would have done anything for them after that night, but the next morning, they’d sent him back on his way to Timely with nothing more than a promise that they’d be dropping in to check on him. It had been kind, though the damage had already been done. Tony’s injury ensured he’d never be the gunslinger he’d once dreamt of and his heart had been shattered. He’d apprenticed with Happy, taken up blacksmithing as a trade, and moved out of his parents’ home and into a small house not far from the smithy as his bad leg kept him from walking any great distances.

And when Bucky and Steve had kept their promise and stopped by his house to see him, well, his resolve to send them packing had withered. He’d made sure no one had noticed them and welcomed them inside, his poor heart still beating against his ribs in the pattern of their names.

~

They love him, he thinks, or at least they love him as best as they can, which is to say they don’t love him as much as he loves them. They certainly don’t love him enough to take him with them. And he understands—he does, despite what Rhodey thinks. His bad leg is a hindrance to outlaws such as themselves, particularly when it isn’t like they have a home base they could leave him out while they go out to commit whatever crime has struck their fancy. No, they’ve been nomads for as long as Tony has known them, never tied down to any one place, and he’s grateful that they at least love him enough to stay in this area instead of moving on to greener pastures.

He checks that the street is clear and then hurries them into his home. It’s changed slightly since the last time Steve and Bucky were in Timely. Pepper gifted him with a rug to go in front of the fireplace six months ago and Peter’s aunt made him a series of sketches of the view from the top of Howling Canyon that he hung in the kitchen. But other than that, the house is much the same as it’s always been, and he isn’t surprised when neither Steve nor Bucky pay any attention to the changes in favor of following him to the bedroom.

They strip him in silence, hands so gentle he’d call them reverent if he didn’t know any better. But he does know better. They don’t love him enough to be reverent. Reverence is saved for each other, for how Steve looks at Bucky in the early dawn when he thinks they’re both still sleeping, for Bucky saving Steve an extra cup of coffee, for the way they know how to tack each other’s horses just as well as they know their own. Reverence isn’t saved for him.

But he treats themreverently. He’s always treated them that way, since the night they took him to their bed. He’s never known any other way to love. They had been his first, the ones to ruin him for all others, and a small part of him hates them for that even as he kisses them hungrily, savoring these few moments he gets to spend with them.

He goes to his knees for them, worships Bucky’s cock with his mouth while Steve undresses, then lays down for Steve to open him up. He lets them fuck him, moans their names while they whisper praises in his ear, and pretends that this is enough, that he doesn’t want more. He imagines it though, imagines Steve lifting him onto Nomad and following Bucky out of town, never to return.

Bucky falls asleep when they’re done—he always does—so Steve is the one who stands and finds a washcloth from somewhere in the house. He wipes the three of them off and then lays down on his side, facing Tony.

“You’re sad tonight,” he says quietly.

“No,” Tony denies. He doesn’t want them to know that he wants more, that he’d do just about anything to get it. They’ll only feel bad that they can’t give him what he wants, like it’s any fault of theirs.

“You are,” Steve insists. “You try to hide it, but you are.”

“Steve…”

“I won’t ask you.” Steve’s own eyes are sad as he reaches out to run delicate fingers over Tony’s face. “I know you wouldn’t tell me anyway. That’s okay; you’re entitled to your secrets, sweetheart.”

There’s something terribly earnest in Steve’s expression, something that Tony doesn’t think he’s seen before. And he’s so close to blurting it out, begging Steve for something he can’t have. He swallows the words back with difficulty and asks instead, “What did you two do this time?”

Steve shrugs as best as he can. “A train.”

“A—” Tony stills. “You didn’t. Steve, you couldn’t. You’ll bring the Marshals down on your heads.”

“Had to,” Steve says casually. “Was the only way to get enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Gold,” Bucky says from behind him, startling him.

It takes a moment for the word to sink in, but his breath comes faster as he realizes just what they’ve done. “You didn’t,” he repeats, sitting up. He scrambles to the end of the bed, as far away from Steve and Bucky as he can get. The outlaws sit up as well, leaning against the headboard as they watch him warily. “What were the two of you thinking? No, don’t answer that. I know exactly what you were thinking: you weren’t. Because if you were, you would have known better. Forget the Marshals, you’ll bring the whole damn army down on your heads. How could you have been so stupid?”

“We were thinking we’d like to get a house,” Steve says, cutting him off.

“A—a house?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky agrees. “We found ourselves a little patch of land in California we’d like to settle down in. Needed one last robbery to get us enough money to buy it.”

Tony’s heart stops beating, he swears it does. “California,” he repeats faintly.

“Sure, they’ll never think to look for us in California.”

Bucky sounds so calm, as though he can’t see that Tony’s heart is breaking in front of them. How can he be so cruel? How can he just causally mention that they’re leaving him forever, as though the last five years mean nothing to them?

“When are you leaving?” he manages, and it shocks him how calm he sounds when he feels as though his grief is visible from the stars.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says. There’s something careful in the way he looks at Tony, like he at least might have some idea of what’s going through Tony’s head.

Tony repeats, “Tomorrow.” He nods, blinking furiously to try to clear his eyes of the treacherous tears he can feel welling up. He can’t let them know. They’re leaving tomorrow and he doesn’t want them to go. He knows it would have happened eventually. The lawless west is shrinking more and more each day. It’s only a matter of time before the law catches up to them. Their only option is to leave and go somewhere no one knows them. But does it have to be so soon? He’d thought they would have more time.

“So this is goodbye, then,” he says, twisting the bedcovers in his hands. He can’t look at them, too afraid they’ll know what’s racing through his head if he does.

“…Goodbye?” Steve asks. He sounds puzzled. Tony hates that. What right does he have to be confused? That’s for Tony, seeing as how he’s the one who’s been left out of the loop during all this. God above, how long have they been planning this? It must have been at least a year in the making.

“Yes, goodbye,” he says. “One last fuck to see you off, right?”

“One last… Tony,” Bucky says sharply, “do you think we’re plannin’ on leavin’ you here?”

Tony’s heart stops for the second time in as many minutes. “You’re not?” he asks, daring to peek at them. Steve looks horrified, Bucky thunderous as he leans forward to tug Tony into his arms. Tony doesn’t resist, too tired of pretending, too confused by the twists this conversation has taken to argue. Steve curls up against Bucky’s side, carding gentle fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Sweetheart, did you think we weren’t gone on you?” Steve asks, kissing his forehead. “We’ve been fallin’ for you since you figured out where we were goin’ and chased us down.”

“But you never asked me to come with you.”

“S’pose that’s my fault,” Bucky says gruffly. He gingerly touches the scar on Tony’s leg where Bucky’s bullet had ripped through him. “We saw how much pain you were in an’ we couldn’t bear to make it any worse. An’ that’s just what would have happened if you’d spent every night out there with us. We wanted to keep you safe, thought you’d be happier if you weren’t always in pain.”

“I wanted you,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to the underside of Bucky’s jaw. “I didn’t want to be left behind.”

“Yeah, we, uh, we get that now,” Steve mutters sheepishly. “Tony, say you’ll come with us this time. Don’t make us go off on our own this time. We want you to come, can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it.”

He should argue. He should remind them that in the five years they’ve been riding off and leaving him at home, he’s built a life. He has a business and an apprentice and a little house that he likes. He’s not the wide-eyed child he once was, dreaming of adventure. But then, neither are Steve and Bucky, if they really do mean that they’re going to get to California and settle down.

“Darlin’?”

~

The next morning, Peter arrives at the smithy to find the backdoor locked and the fire cold. He frowns; it’s not like Tony to still be home at this hour. He turns on his heel and heads to Tony’s house. It’s as dark as the smithy is though it doesn’t look like anything is out of place.

Tony is nowhere to be seen. He wonders for an instant if Tony spent the night at Rhodey’s, as he sometimes does when it’s been too long between Steve and Bucky’s visits (though Peter isn’t supposed to know anything about the outlaws). He turns to leave, planning on heading over to Rhodey’s to ask if he’s seen Tony this morning, only to catch a glimpse of something on the kitchen table, glinting in the early morning sunlight pouring in from the door.

Curious, he wanders over to find a single gold coin—and a letter addressed to him. Peter immediately pockets the coin and then opens the letter. It’s written in Tony’s messy scrawl and he reads it eagerly, hoping it’ll tell him where Tony’s gone.

Peter,

I hope you’ve spotted this. The coin is for you. Under the bed, there’s a pouch full of more coins, but those are for Happy. They should be enough to drag Happy out of the quiet life to finish your apprenticeship. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but it was time to move on.

If anyone asks where I’ve gone, tell them I’ve run away to California.

Tony

#alle writes #alle answers #stuckony #if you like please reblog #nsfk #ish

[honey-hippie-harper]

In-Laws Being In-Laws (Re-upload)

 Hiii!

So, this is basically an old fic, which I deleted from my other account ( @dawniebb ) and was requested to be uploaded again.

This feels like a lifetime ago afgshjka, but I remember it was written for a Renegades content swap event, and it was for @healing-winston-pratt (hello, wifey!). The prompt was, basically, Nova and one of the Renegays being in-laws, and it was super fun to write! <3

If anyone’s reading this: Hi, you’re a beautiful human being, and I love you <3

In-Laws Being In-Laws

Dear Dread Warden,

I am not quite sure you will get this message because it is been a while since I last used my communicator but, in case you do: I  hope you are having a nice morning. 

The reason I am writing you this is that, as you must already be aware, right now Sketch and his teammates are taking part in the Annual Renegade Convention as special guests to be awarded for their heroic participation in the Second Battle for Gatlon. Hence, they are out of town. Due to my temporary resignation from the team, I declined the offer to attend the event and, for instance, to receive an award. This means that, unlike theirs, my routine remains the same as usual.

Unfortunately, I must see my therapist for my weekly appointment in two hours, and after that I will have to go to the supermarket to pick up some groceries and essential items. Under normal circumstances, given the nature of my relationship with Sketch, he would have driven me to the supermarket and then back to my apartment, as it happens to be located sort of far from the store and it could be pretty difficult for me to walk while carrying all those bags. However, as mentioned before, these are not normal circumstances and Sketch is not currently available.

I reach out to you with no intention to cause trouble; for instance, if I happen to be asking too much or disrupting your schedule (As I am conscious you are a busy person) and you consider you will not be able to help me, I assure you I completely understand. But: Could you pick me up from my therapist's office and take me to the supermarket afterwards?

I apologize for the inconvenience and I promise I will make sure this does not happen again. In addition, I also apologize for the alliteration in the greeting at the beginning of this message. I did not know whether you wanted to be acknowledged by your real name or your alias.

Sincerely,

Insomnia.

-.-

Hi, Insomnia!!!

So nice to see you!... Or should I say read you! Ha! It's been so long, it almost feels like an eternity! I hope therapy is going great! (We're all really proud of you!)

It doesn't bother me at all, sweetheart; of course I'll help you with that. Could you share the location of your therapist's office, please?

Oh, and also: What time do you want me to be there? (Not that I have anything to do today, I just want to be on time).  

I'm excited to see you! Can I take you to eat something afterwards? How does that sound?

Take care!

(Agh. I forgot these things don't actually allow you to write your real  name).

-S i m o n.

(Better).

-.-

He spotted Nova way before parking. She was sitting on a bench outside the building, staring anxiously at her phone. The body language of a nervous person.

Simon stopped the car right in front of where she was, and when she realized he was already here, Nova jumped out of her seat as if it had burned her skin, before jogging in an awkward manner towards the car.

Once she was inside, Simon couldn't help but feel a twinge in his stomach. He wasn't lying when he told her he was excited to see her. In fact, he was more than excited, and he had to hold himself back pretty hard to avoid hugging her, because it was evident she didn't want to be hugged right now, for she just directed a tiny smile at him and said:

"Hi."

She was the same Nova he had met some time ago, but at the same time she was different; she was wearing sneakers, skinny jeans and a basic white v-neck shirt; her hair was a little longer, too, to the point she could tie it in a cute little ponytail; Simon could tell she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but still her face looked healthier than before; less tired, with smaller under-eye dark circles and lips covered in chapstick. Finally.

She looked alive. More than before.

“Hi.” He finally responded.

Watching people get better was always satisfactory, but watching Nova get better was different. He had grown to appreciate her, since the very first moment he saw her with Adrian; since the very first moment he spoke to her and saw nothing but utter heartbreak in her eyes. Nova was hurting, and any sensitive person would’ve noticed that. So, watching her get better was a touching experience for him.

“You look so…”

Nova interrupted him almost immediately.

“I know. I...I barely had time to fix my hair. Gosh. It’s so uncomfortable and I want to cut it but I haven’t had time. I…”

“Oh, no, no, no! Your hair looks gorgeous! “ He chuckled, although he was confused by her reaction. “I was gonna say you look really good. Really, really good. The ponytail looks great on you.”

Nova gulped as she adjusted said ponytail.

“Oh.” She muttered in a hoarse voice. “...Well...Thank you. I thought…”

“No, no.” Simon waved his hand. “You look great. How.... how are you?”

She seemed to be processing the question, even though it was not that difficult.

“I’m…” Nova cleared her throat. “I’m doing great. How are you? How’s ...life going?”

“Absolutely great!” Simon smiled, clapping his hands together. “Things at home are great. You know, Hugh’s not currently here due to the Annual Renegade Convention. Adrian’s not here either (for sure, you already know about that) and Max…”

“Max went too, yeah.” Nova smiled. Her eyes seemed to brighten to the mention of Max’s name. Adrian had mentioned this fact about her a couple of times: Nova was fond of children. And even if she wasn’t, she had a tendency to protect and care about them. Since she had this type of strong personality, Hugh refused to recognize that as a truth, but Simon had no trouble believing it.

It was adorable.

“He called me when he got the invitation. He was eager to go.” She continued. “Which doesn’t surprise me. I...It’s his first time travelling, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Responded Simon. “We’re planning to go on vacation this year. Because, you know, the convention’s being held not too far away from Gatlon and sadly he’s probably gonna get bored.”

“Bored?” Nova shifted herself in the seat, awkwardly. “Why?”

“Well...those conventions are...well, conventions.” Simon shrugged, smiling at her. “There are a lot of speeches, one after the other and, sure, the guests that represent Gatlon can skip some of them, but others are mandatory and they’re like 2 hours long and it’s so boring and…”

Nova hissed, grimacing, to which Simon nodded in agreement.

“I’m glad I didn’t have to go.” He admitted. “Though I do wanted to be there when Adrian and Max received their award. Too sad.”

Nova tried to speak a couple of times, until she finally had found the correct words to said her thoughts out loud.

“Why...why didn’t you go, then?”

“About that.” Simon chuckled. “Tamaya is going to be there too, as a speaker. And she’s also receiving an award. So...somebody had to take care of the Headquarters and Kasumi and I were left with that responsibility. However, it’s been pretty peaceful, as you may have noticed.”

“I have.” Nova nodded. “Not that I...go out very much, but yeah. Things have been calm.”

“People are behaving for once. And it’s awesome.” he sighed.

Then they stayed in silence. For a while.

Nova stared out the window, avoiding eye contact, while Simon whistled as he tapped his fingers on the wheel.

Not a word. No small talk.

Nothing.

“Sooooo…” Said Simon. “Shall we go?”

“Perhaps we should.” Nova said, immediately, as a flash of relief crossed her face.

So Simon smiled at her once again as he turned on the engine, while Nova put on her seatbelt next to him.

-.-

It took her so little time to come back Simon confirmed she was one of those people who would strategically write their shopping list so they wouldn’t be going back and forth through the aisles. It also surprised him that, being a person so young, she was so...focused on everything.

She really had only bought groceries and essential items. No junk food. No silly things she swore she would need and then she didn’t. Not even candy from the checkout area.

Simon hurried himself out of the car to help her put the bags in the trunk, but once she saw him and guessed his intentions, she quickly said:

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“I know you can.” He clarified. Because, well, she indeed was a strong person. “But maybe you could use some help. That’s...a couple of bags.”

“Yeah. I know.” Nova nodded, already carrying the first two of the bags. “But I can do it. Please. I’m already causing you too much trouble.”

Simon was yet again confused by her reaction, and he tried to talk to her about it. But just like Nova looked like she didn’t want to be hugged right now, she also looked like she didn’t want to talk about it right now.

So he just opened the trunk for her and held it in case it would go down by its own. It had never happened, but just to be sure. Sometimes Simon’s anxiety made him overanalyze some situations.

Less than 10 minutes had passed by the time Nova finished putting all her stuff in the car, Simon figured she was still training, since she was as agile and fast as she was the day she notified them she would be taking some time off from the team and the Renegades in general.

They got in the car again, and before the silence could get as uncomfortable as the previous one, Simon took the initiative to speak.

“I think...you forgot to answer a part of my message.” He said, carefully. “You know...the part where I told you that maybe we could...go to a restaurant or something?”

Nova’s face, ears and neck turned so red she became a human-shaped cherry, and although in other circumstances he would’ve considered it adorable, this time he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her. He had been there and done that many times; the messages Nova had sent were peak odd. The type of messages one would overthink over and over again because they had to be perfect. And if something, anything sounded off after you sent it, your world would be in shambles.

So he just smiled to assure it was okay. That he didn’t mind. That those messages didn’t have to be so formal in the first place.

And that, obviously, didn’t work.

For his experience, it never did.

“I...I...Yeah.” Nova scratched her brow. “Pretty much I...I...can recall not knowing how to word that so I just left it blank and I...must’ve forgotten to…”

“Nova.” Simon said, softly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Did I...offend you or something?”

“Absolutely no!” He said. “Why would you think that? It’s just a slip. I know it wasn’t your intention and to be honest I still want to take you to eat something so...yeah, there’s no reason to get weird about this. There’s no need to worry.”

Nova took a deep, hasty breath. She was flustered, son Simon tried to keep her calm; to make her feel like she was in a safe environment.

Why wouldn’t she be, in the first place?

She was his son’s girlfriend.

Why would he want to hurt her or make her feel bad?

“Nova, darling.” He said again. “Do you have something on your mind?”

“I do.” Nova cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t really...can eat out right now. I barely manage to afford my groceries, you know? It’s been…”

“But you’re not gonna pay your own bill. I mean, why would you do that?” Simon raised an eyebrow at her, genuinely confused, but still laughing nervously. Sweet rot, who had hurt this child so much? “ I’m the one who’s taking you to eat. You wouldn’t have to…”

“You don’t have to either!” She snapped. Not mad, but rather distressed, while breathing heavily.

Simon went still, afraid he would make it worse. Still, he couldn’t leave it like that, so he gulped and, once he reunited enough courage, he dared to speak again.

“What’s really on your mind, Nova?” He asked, this time in a more soothing voice. Nova’s whole being went red again, but the shadow of confusion in her expression was noticeable and hard to ignore. For this reason, Simon decided to provide some kind of scaffolding.

“For example: Why would you write a message that is directed to me in such a formal way?” He asked, patiently. “Why would you ask me to pick you up as if you were asking me to help you commit a crime? Why would you act so uncomfortable around me when it’s not the first time that we’ve met? Why would you…?”

“Because it’s you.” Nova answered, avoiding eye contact.

And he expected that answer, yes. But, at the same time, he expected to understand the statement once it slipped out of her mouth.

However, he didn’t.

“Can you elaborate?” He requested.

Nova clicked her tongue as she rubbed her neck, staring at the dash right in front of her.

“...I can disappear if you want me to. Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

“No. No, no.” Nova nodded, waving her hands, finally looking at him. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Then...would you tell me what’s wrong?”

Nova thought about it. She squirmed in her seat. Gulped. Coughed. Squirmed again.

Then, playing with her own hands, she spoke.

“...I’m ashamed.”

“Ashamed of what…?” Simon tilted his head to the side. “Ashamed of who…? What exactly are you ashamed of? ...Dating Adrian?”

Nova flinched.

“I would never.”

A spark of pride illuminated his thoughts and his insides in general, but Simon tried to pay little attention to it.

“I’m just...ashamed. Of everything.” Nova said, sighing. “I…”

And she cut herself in the middle of the phrase, realizing that once again she wouldn’t be able to finish it.

Simon didn’t realize he was frowning until he felt the muscles of his face slowly giving in. He understood.

And he knew that anything that had happened during the Second Battle for Gatlon had been her fault. She might have contributed in some way but, at the end of the day, she was just a child.

A very confused and manipulated child who just needed someone to listen without twisting her words as they pleased.

“...I just think that...if I were you I wouldn’t like me either.” She wasn’t crying, nor did she sound like she was about to any time soon. There was so much resignation in her voice that her words weighted as much as a giant rock. “Hugh gave me his blessing to...you know, date Adrian…”

“I can recall giving you my blessing too.”

Nova tripped on her own words.

“I mean, you did. You both did.” She said. “But still… It’s because… because you want him to be happy. And I get it. I really do. And I understand because, like I said, I wouldn’t like me either...I know I am loved. I know I matter for some people...but I also know I did...bad things, and I carry this sort of cursed last name…”

She stopped and breathed for a second before continuing.

“And I…” She finally looked at him. “I get it. You don’t have to pretend you like me, after all that happened. After I stole stuff from your house; infiltrated into your system; caused a terrorist attack...You really don’t have to pretend.”

Simon blinked, and if it wasn’t for her specific and controlled body language, he would’ve thought she was making excuses or even joking.

But Nova was telling the truth.

And it was heartbreaking.

“Perhaps you should think outside the box and picture a scenario in which you realize we’re not pretending.” That’s the only thing he said.

“Perhaps you should realize that we love you and you matter to us.” He reached for her hand and softly touched her knuckles. Her hands were shaking. “And that, yes, we want Adrian to be happy, but we also want you to be happy.”

Nova’s eyes seemed to be covered in crystals, but she remained in silence.

“You’re part of this family now, Nova.” He smiled. “And I’m sorry, but you’ll have to deal with that.”

Nova sniffed, swallowing, while lacing her hand into Simon’s.

“Artino and everything?” She muttered.

“Artino it’s not what defines you.” Simon chuckled. “You’re Nova. Just Nova... And we’re really proud of you. Not ashamed.”

She smiled back at him, wordless, and Simon gave her a quick handshake before putting his hands around the wheel.

Because even now, that her walls were crumbling right before her eyes, she didn’t look like someone who wanted to be hugged at the moment, and he accepted and respected that.

“I was planning to take you to my favorite restaurant, but maybe we can prepare a homemade meal instead?” He suggested. “You know? In-laws being in-laws? … Not to brag, but I make the best lemon pie in the world.”

Nova chuckled. Relaxed.

Happy.

“Sounds great.” She said, nodding.

“Excellent.” Simon turned on the engine.

“Let’s go home.”

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #dawnie writes #Simon Westwood #The Dread Warden #Nova Artino #Insomnia #Dawnie re-uploads saga #i love being a clown #no nomás tengo la cara de pendeja también soy JAJAJAJAJAJAJAAJAJAJA #this was before hcttr ruined my life #good times

[bonjour-rainycity]

Imagine: Being friends with Alice and asking Carlisle for help on your chemistry homework

Characters: Cullen family, female reader

Rating: G

Word count: 2120

Warnings: None

Request by anon: Wait, omg I’m so happy I found a blog that’s updated recently and I’m definitely gonna ✨stalk✨ your blog and read all your writing after hw but if you’re still doing requests, I thought of something that I would just love to see written. And this could be short or something, y’know? It can be whatever you want it to be, but what if the reader is somewhat friends with the Cullens? Reader (maybe like 20 years old?) is invited to their house one weekend after bumping into Alice and becoming friends and from passing conversation, reader knows that Carlisle is a doctor so she asks him if he could help her with her organic chemistry hw cause she’s studying to be a med student? 

A/n Wow I’m so sorry this took me so long! It’s such a cute request and I loved writing it! Thanks for sending it in and for being patient with me :)

Shoot.

Mentally, I groan, stopping my progress towards my car.

I still have chem homework.

I fiddle with the keys in my hand, contemplating. You could go home…lay in bed…maybe with a pint of ice cream…and pass out in a stress and sugar-induced coma.

Oh, how tempting.

But then I remind myself of why I’m putting myself through the hell that is a STEM degree, and turn on my heel, heading back to campus. I know I won’t get any work done if I go home, so the library it is! Thank goodness it’s open twenty-four hours, because it’s creeping up to eleven and I don’t have the heart to return to one of the academic buildings.

Seeing as it’s Friday night, the library isn’t crowded. Still, I push past all the tables on the first floor and head up to my favorite spot on the second. Settling in at my favorite partially secluded table, I pull out my organic chemistry textbook, pop in my earbuds, and get to work.

{***}

A small, pale hand skims over the table near my book, and I look up with a start.

Alice Cullen stands by my desk, clutching a set of books that look too heavy for her thin arms, but she seems to be managing fine. She and I met during the first week of classes, and have been tentative friends ever since. We don’t see much of each other, given our varying degree programs, but she always greets me with a friendly smile and an offer to join her to study. I pull out my headphones, and give her a tired smile. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Good!” She smiles excitedly, somehow keeping her energy levels at—I check the time on my phone—1:12 am! “Have you been here for long?”

I shrug, feeling the weight of the late hour on my shoulders. “Since around eleven. I was going home but then I forgot I have o-chem homework. I don’t think it should be taking me this long, but I’m struggling. Thankfully only half of it is due in the morning. The rest isn’t due until after the weekend.”

Alice peers over to look at my book and the problems I work through in my notebook. “Oh, those do look hard. But you know, my dad is a doctor, and he probably knows this stuff like the back of his hand. He’d be more than happy to help you.”

I blanch. An invitation to the Cullen’s house? And free help on o-chem homework?

But then I remember my manners. “Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t—”

“Please,” she squeaks, balancing her books in one arm and using the other to retrieve her phone. “We’d be happy to have you over! I’ll let my family know. Does tomorrow around lunchtime work?”

“Uh,” I swallow, not sure I’m believing my ears. “That works great, thank you! I can bring the food?”

She shakes her head, waving off the offer. “Don’t worry about it—Mom loves to cook and will be excited to really use the kitchen. Oh! And there’s this new series my sisters and I have been dying to watch. It’s called Broadchurch. Have you heard of it? Maybe we can start it and see if it’s any good!”

I nod dumbly, too tired and relieved for the help to refuse again. “That sounds fun! Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiles, shrugging like it’s nothing. “What are friends for?”

My smile softens. She considers us friends. “Do you want to walk out together? It’s pretty late.”

She beams and waits while I collect my stuff.

{***}

I pull up to the front of the massive house.

Alice is waiting for me on the porch. She waves excitedly, and I notice her fiancé standing near the door, looking uncomfortable. I stifle a chuckle. It’s well-known that Jasper, introvert in every sense of the word, fell hard for Alice who is the embodiment of an extravert. I wave, grabbing my backpack and stepping out of the car.

“Welcome,” Alice practically shouts. Jasper gives me a polite nod.

I smile at the two of them, calling out my hello’s and climbing the stairs to the porch. The second Jasper opens the door, I’m greeted by the warm smile of Esme Cullen.

“Hello, Y/n, welcome to our home! We are so happy to have you here.” She extends a warm smile, one I can’t help but return immediately.

Alice leads us straight to the living room, where two of her adoptive siblings, Emmett and Rosalie, lounge. Rosalie sketches something I can’t see, and Emmett yells loudly at the TV, losing at a video game.

“Beat it, Emmett,” Alice chirps, dancing over and taking the controller from his hands. “We’re going to watch Broadchurch.”

Putting his frustration at the game aside, Emmett grins, standing and ruffling Alice’s hair. “Alright, I was getting my ass kicked anyway. Hey, Y/n, good to see you again.”

I return his greeting, familiar with Emmett from an intro to theatre class we had together last semester. The image of his interpretation of Juliet for our final project comes to mind, and I have to stifle a laugh. Emmett goes to leave the room, pulling Jasper with him.

“Send Bella down, would you,” Alice calls after them, already settling on the couch. “Rose, you know Y/n, right?”

Rosalie looks up from her sketching. She smiles briefly at me, then returns to her task. I sit awkwardly next to Alice, waiting for Bella so we can start the show.

“There aren’t many women in STEM.”

My head shoots up, wide eyes turning in Rosalie’s direction. She doesn’t look up from her work, but I know she’s addressing me—Alice is studying fashion merchandising and design.

“Y-yeah,” I stammer. Alice’s older sister is just so intimidating. Well-spoken, obviously intelligent, tall, prettier than anyone I’ve ever met, and top of her law class. She’s not exactly warm either, like her mother or sister—even now, there’s a cold bite to her tone. But the edges of her lips quirk up, and I can tell she’s being nice.

“Don’t let the guys push you around. What you’re doing is important, and you’re probably smarter than them. What do you want to do with your degree?”

The answer, always on my heart and mind, is automatic. “I want to be a doctor. So, med school is next.”

She nods once. “Good.”

And apparently that’s the end of our conversation.

I try to hide my smile by rummaging around in my backpack for my water bottle. It’s nice to feel supported.

Bella comes gliding down the stairs and twists into the living room, folding herself easily onto the love seat. She greets me, and then tosses me the throw over the back of her couch. Alice nods as if forgetting something, then reaches into a basket hidden between our couch and Rosalie’s chair and produces three more blankets, throwing two to her sisters and keeping one for herself. She shoots me a grin as each of us, even the serious Rosalie, snuggles up.

Alice stands, turning off the lights and then wraps back in her blanket and scoots near me on the couch. “I hope this is good!” With a grin, she opens Netflix and plays the first episode.

{***}

Broadchurch does not disappoint. Before I know it, we’re halfway through the second episode, eyes glued to the screen. Bella, who was definitely reading a book under her blanket at the start, has put it to the side, leaning forward and watching the show intently.

The front door creaks, then clicks closed, and Alice smiles, pressing pause on the remote. “Dad’s home.”

Before long, the famed local doctor comes in to say hi to the girls and to greet me. He’s just as welcoming as his wife!

“Alice told me you are having trouble with some organic chemistry homework?”

I nod, hoping it’s not too much to ask for his help. “I got a good start on some of the problems last night, but I keep messing up. I’m not really sure where I’m going wrong—there’s no answer key so I can’t work backwards through the problems.”

He nods, casually resting his hands in the pocket of his slacks. “I remember o-chem homework quite well.” He grins conspiratorially. “It is the bane of many a med student’s existence. Why don’t you girls finish up your episode and then join Esme and me in the kitchen for lunch? I can take a look at your homework if you like.”

Relief washes over me. “That would be great, thank you so much.”

He smiles warmly. “Of course. Now, if you all will excuse me….” With a twinkle in his eye, he leaves us to rejoin his wife.

This family is so nice! I wonder why they get so much flack at school?

Alice resumes the episode, and soon my musings are washed away as I try to piece together the mystery of the murder before the detectives can.

{***}

Esme is a wonderful cook. Carlisle sings her praises but doesn’t fix a plate for himself, saying he ate plenty as she was cooking. We all sit down at the table, though I’m the only one who eats in earnest — Bella claims to be filled up on snacks, Rose says she’s on a diet, and Alice takes a small helping for herself, every now and then poking the chicken in mild disgust. I don’t see what the problem is, the food is fantastic!

Carlisle sits down next to me, and I slide my textbook and notebook in his direction. He smiles, looking almost nostalgic. “I remember these. The good news is, as a doctor, you won’t be doing much of this in day-to-day life, if at all. But it is important for some courses you will take in medical school, so it’s best to master the concepts now. See, on number nineteen, you start the problem correctly, but get lost once you have to balance the equation to continue. Instead of waiting until the middle to balance, I would do that first, that way, you have a solid base before moving on to solve the rest of the problem.”

I nod, peering over at the paper intently. I hadn’t tried that strategy before.

Carlisle takes out a pen, and begins scratching out an equation. Then, he grins, shaking his head, and crosses it out, starting again in much neater handwriting. “Forgive my penmanship. Though, if you decide to continue and become a practicing doctor, your handwriting will soon be indecipherable, too.”

From across the table, Rosalie snorts, and I can’t help but laugh along. It seems almost a rite of passage for a doctor to have horrendous handwriting.

In clearer script, Carlisle continues working out the problem, then slides the paper over for me to see. He explains what he did at each step, and I nod along, trying to commit as much of it to memory as possible. He works out another problem in the same way, then asks me to try on my own. I smile tentatively as I go, hesitant to accept that I actually know how to do the problem now.

But I do.

It takes concentration to work through the steps, but I can, which is a far cry from where I was last night. Carlisle waves off my thanks, saying I just needed to try a different approach, but I had it within me all along. I bring up another section I had issues with—structures of the elements—and Carlisle teaches me a better strategy for memorizing a few and then figuring out the rest. By the time Esme and Bella have put the food away, my homework is done—in a fourth of the time it would have taken me struggling through it on my own.

“Seriously, Dr. Cullen, thank you so much.”

He smiles pleasantly, handing me back my textbook. “Of course. If you need help again, just come on over. I know the girls love having the company, and my wife and I enjoyed the opportunity to meet you as well.”

Esme appears behind her husband, laying her hands affectionately on his shoulders. “Absolutely, Y/n. Please come over any time.”

I pack up my homework and thank them once again for lunch and for the help. Alice darts to my side, grinning. “Ready to finish the episode?”

I feel so much lighter now that my homework is done, and I don’t feel guilty at all for spending time with my new friends. In fact, I may even indulge in that ice cream when I get home.

“Absolutely.”

A/n Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, here’s the link to my masterlist :)

#twilight #twilight renaissance #platonic twilight #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #jasper cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie cullen #esme cullen #bella cullen #twilight imagine #carlisle imagine #alice imagine

[newcaptainofsquad9]

Twice wanting to help with their Black girlfriend’s hair would include...

I’mma see how this goes. I know all Black hair is different, but I’m going off of my own experiences as a Black woman.  I just wanted to make some Black women Once’s  smile with this. Some of these have potentials for becoming entire fics, but let me know if ya’ll like them. Hope ya’ll enjoy!

 Nayeon

• Nayeon would be so fixated on your hair, giggling every time you combed through it and applied whatever products you chose.

• She’d be super curious, it might come off as a bit rude sometimes but she’d always follow it up with aeygo, a hug or kiss. If you were really having a hard time with your hair, maybe all three.

• “Jagi, your hair looks so different from before? Do all these different gels and moisturizers help?”

• You nod, eyes staying on your reflection in the mirror as your hands grow tired. 

• Nayoen notices, reaching to grab your hand, but flinches as you sigh. 

“I’m sorry Nayeon, I still need to get out a few more kinks in the back.” 

“Kinks?”

•You explain how your hair is extremely different from her own, going into detail as she listens to every word. The moment you finish, she asks if she could help.

This took you a little by surprise, but you allowed her to help moisturize your hair. 

“Like this?” she’d ask as she carefully rubbed the Creme of Nature throughout your hair. 

You nodded and showed her how to comb down to the root. 

•Whenever you’d flinch or jump as she comb through a tangle or knot, she’d stop kiss you and rub down your arms. 

• It didn’t take as long with Nayeon’s help, but instead of stopping because of your tired hands, it’d be Nayeon wanting to make-out

• “But my hair’s not finished yet?” you’d ask.

Nayeon would flash her signature bunny grin and kiss you anyway. 

“You’re still perfect jagi.”

Jeongyeon

• Jeongyeon sat down in front of you with her attention fully on you with a puzzled expression as she watched you mix in the two relaxers you bought with a tiny, flat wooden stick.

• She’d be so engrossed as you put on the gloves and began to comb out your hair; her expression changing from curious to  concerned in a matter of moments as you tensed at the knots and kinks you came across.

• She hurried to retrieve your moisturizer, spritz and all while looking to help.

“You forgot to add the moisturizer,” she’d say. “Isn’t that why it’s so hard to comb? I remember you told me. To get it softer.”

• Your heart sank at her soft tone, she remembered. 

“Aww, well I can’t mix the products in with the perm,” you say, gesturing to the relaxer before you. “I have to comb it out then put it in.” 

“Will that make it easier to manage?” she asks. “I-I just hate to see you in pain.” 

• You had to embrace Jeongyeon to ease her, she always worried about knots and kinks a lot. 

“Could I put the perm in for you? it could can go an hour less if I help.” 

• You couldn’t say no with Jeongyeon’s intense stare and how much you already knew she cared and wanted to learn. 

• It took awhile for Jeongyeon to comb a bit harder without fear of hurting you, but once you reassured her, it went well.

• Showed you memes while you sat with the perm in your hair and applied more Vaseline to your forehead to avoid burns and rashes.

• She shampooed your hair at your request after the perm was initially washed out to ensure it was completely out. She scratched your scalp too, just to ensure a bit more comfort during the process.

• Helped you blow dry, grease your scalp and all before ending the day with cuddles and kisses. 

Momo

• Momo is the type of girlfriend who’d sit you in between her legs to help you with your hair. 

• You thought against it, getting flashbacks from when your mom would fix your hair but of course you couldn’t resist her pouts.

• Momo might be a bit slower than the others when picking up on fixing your hair. 

• She’d try to run her fingers through the knotted, kinky parts, but stopped as soon as you flinched or hissed in pain.

“Sorry!” she’d yelp before stopping completely to hug and kiss your cheek. 

• You’d always reassure her and told her to watch until she was confident enough to do it herself.

• Even if she was 100 percent confident, she’d always try to make you feel comfortable while she combed through the tough parts.

“Boo! Mommy wants to hold you!” she’d say to Boo as the dog trotted into the room. 

It’s as if the dog and owner were linked because Boo came over to you, crawled into your lap and licked your fingers.

• Momo always whispered sweet nothings in your ear, urging you to hold Boo tight for you both. 

“Boo and I got you baby, I’m almost done. I promise.“

Sana

• Would love to help braid your hair all the time.

• Was confused as to why you need so many sections platted off. 

• “So, you aren’t keeping it braided up this time?” she asked. 

“No, well at least over night,” you say. “I’ll take it out in the morning.”

“Why? I love the braids, they bring out your eyes.” 

• You tell her about your worries of wearing your hair in braids or cornrows, due to how people perceive hairstyles like that. 

 • Sana always told you otherwise, but wanted to go with whatever hairstyles that made you happy and comfortable. 

• Whenever your hand would get tired while taking out your braids, Sana would help.

• She’d always ask if she was going too fast or slow, making sure you were ok. 

• Would be confused about the concept of a bonnet, since she loved touching your hair, but understood why thanks to a talk with you. 

• She’s puzzled as hell in the morning when you both way up and it’s halfway on your head. 

“What happened?” she asks.

You shook your head as you adjusted it back on your head. 

“It happens when I sleep kind of rough.” 

Jihyo 

• Jihyo is the type of girlfriend who will make an attempt to buy hair care products for you. 

Calls you asking which product you use. 

“What’s it called again? The pink bottle, right?” she asks. 

“Pink oil moisturizer,” you say. “Could you pick up a thing of grease too?”

“Of course baby.”

 • Would like to completely educated on your hair, texture and all before she even attempts to help. 

• You’ve even caught her looking up Youtube videos on how to braid, twist etc. 

“You can always ask, you know,” you’d say. 

“I know, but it’s a sensitive subject and I just want to approach it the right way.”  

• When she does try though, she sits you in her lap and you have to talk her through it while she does so.

• Comments on how beautiful you are and kisses your cheek and neck whenever you get flustered.

•  Always has your bonnet ready when and if you need it. 

Mina

• Mina was always fascinated with your hair, and it wasn’t until you stayed over one night that she began to ask a lot of questions about it.

• You had never seen her so inquisitive, especially when she was in the middle of a game. 

“Is everything ok, Mina?”

“Yeah jagi, it’s just--your hair is so--amazing! You need that entire bag of products to do it?”

 • Will just stare into your eyes while you’re fixing your hair, and grins with glee once you catch her(like in the gif above). 

“You look so beautiful when you’re concentrating like that,” she says. “I-I can’t help it.” 

• Mina is the one who catches on extremely quick on how to fix your hair and often asks if she could help with any new styles you’d like to try.

“Only if you want to,” she’d say. “I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

• Once you’re comfortable with her fixing it, she’d definitely let you sit in her lap while she works and you’re gaming.

“You’re doing amazing baby, you barely tensed up,” Mina says. “Gaming really does relax you.”

Dahyun  

• Dahyun loved your hair, yet always tread lightly when it came to how you when about doing and fixing it.

 • She often came up to you with a giddy smile, yet she couldn’t find the words to tell you. 

“Hi babe, you good?” you’d ask. 

“Yeah, uh. I know you do it yourself and all but I can help. You seem a little down at times.”

• While you showed her how to do it, she’d always lighten the mood if you grew frustrated. 

If your hand got tired she’d hold it and never let go until you’re smiling. 

• Like Jeongyeon, she will show you memes and even take pictures of you (after you’ve finished a new hairstyle of course :) ) so you can make your own. 

The captain would read: “When you’re too pretty for your own good” or “when you know you’re girlfriend material”

Of course Dahyun would keep it between the both of you, and it never ceased to make you smile or cringe at times. 

• Is super giddy when you let her practice braiding your hair. She gets super engrossed in talking about your hair and just talking about the funny thing that have happened that you have to put her back on track at times. 

Chaeyoung

• Chaeyoung always wanted to know more about your hair and finally asked to help you during wash day.

• You happened to be about to go over to the sink with your towel, shampoo and conditioner. 

Chaeyoung popped in to use the bathroom and couldn’t help but ask if you needed her to do anything to assist. 

 • Like Jihyo, she’d do her research, but will always find your opinion on your own hair valid. 

• Loves to sketch you whenever you just fixed your hair, and gives you a cute aesthetic like Cottagecore.

• Will just take you outside in the fresh air to take in how beautiful you look and take many Polaroids. 

 • When applying whatever products you need, she’d be super slow and extremely careful. Often times a little too slow, since the oils and/or moisturizers feel a certain way to her. 

“Ooo, it feels so cool!” she’d say.

“Uh, Chae? You still have four more sections to go.”

“Oh, right! Sorry!”

Tzuyu

• You both were going to dinner and a movie one night. Tzuyu really wanted to see you, but your hair wasn’t really working for you. It usually didn’t take you as long.

• Tzuyu texted and called you from the living room where she waited, but got worried and knocked on your bedroom door, urging if you were ok or not. 

• You told her to give you a few minutes, only for you to turn around and see her standing at the threshold of door (of course you forgot to lock it). Tzuyu staring at while you finish combing out your hair.

• She just stared, blankly then walked out.

• At the end of the date that night she just brought the encounter up again.

“I could have helped jagi,” she said.

“Tzuyu, you don’t have to.” 

“But you were frustrated. I know that look.”

 • Unlike the others, I think Tzuyu would leave most of the handling to you. It’s not that she didn’t find herself capable, but that she knew you could handle it. 

  • She mostly held parts of hair for you, along with apply grease or spritz to an area you couldn’t reach. 

• Loves to just sit in your presence, take in your beauty and compliment you.

#twice #twice kpop #twice x fem reader #twice x reader #twice x black reader #black reader #twice x black fem reader #twice nayeon #twice jeongyeon #twice momo #twice sana #twice jihyo #twice mina #twice dahyun #twice chaeyoung #twice tzuyu #nayeon x reader #jeongyeon x reader #momo x reader #sana x reader #jihyo x reader #mina x reader #dahyun x reader #chaeyoung x reader #tzuyu x reader #twice scenarios #twice reactions #girl group reactions #girl group scenarios #kpop fanfic

[lavendersies]

Willuz prompts:

- Willow and her bumblebee Palisman grow an extravagant topiary of her and Luz, adorned with beautiful bouquets of flowers (as well as make delicious honey) for Luz to thank her for everything.

- Kind of a recap of Season 1's Luz and Willow adventures, but with the notable highlight that Willow gives Luz an appropriate flower bouquet as thanks of helping her out (can be combined with previous prompt if preferable)

- Amity and Hunter argue which of the two Luz loves the most, only to find Luz on a date/making out with Willow in a secluded, forested area, maybe with blossoming flowers (this is a non-serious fic as an allegory to the whole shipping war at the moment, but could come off as a bit mean :P)

- Luz practices with her Glyphs once more to make nice flowers and topiaries for Willow.

- Willow has a crush on Luz and can't help but feel a little jealous when she and Amity get close instead. Willow is too shy to confess her feelings for Luz, fearing rejection, and doesn't want to be in hot water with Amity again after they're finally getting along since their breach years ago. Willow wants to be happy for them, but Gus notices her depression.

- Boscha has thrashed Willow's beautiful plant garden, a passion project that's been taken years, and Willow is despaired by this, too depressed to continue and rebuild. Luz decides to fix the garden and improve it.

@Arendalphaeagle gave theses wonderful prompts so I have went with fourth one. The request was suppose to be uploaded on A03 but it didn't work out so until further notice all Willuz requests will be uploaded here. Feel free to drop ya'll request in my ask box. Enjoy.

A flower for Willow

Luz tapped the symbol emitting a green light and a single flower merge. She looks over at her spell book that specializes in plant magic for something new. She had committed her time to mastering a new glyph, hoping it would create the perfect gift for Willow. Luz didn't care if she spent the whole night out here and woke up with tired eyes caked with crust. Starting earlier this week would have been the wise thing to do but studying for her witch classes ate up the time. In a sluggish motion the sun disappeared behind the trees, allowing the moon to provide a dim light and usher in darkness. Luz casted a luminous orb as she read the instruction on how to evoke multiple flowers. She read the guide once more then traced the symbol on paper and activated it. A patch of lavender and lilac flowers bloom before her, this was just what she needed. Luz would allow her artistic skills to do the rest, she took her book and went inside. 

She found Eda knocked out on the couch with an empty cup of apple blood dangling from her hand. A smile spread on her lips seeing the grey-haired witch in her apple blood coma. King was probably upstairs waiting for Luz's return so they could continue watching an anime series that she had downloaded on her phone. Upon entering the room Luz sees King scowling one of his stuffed animals.

When he noticed her presence. He stopped chiding the pink rabbit, "Oh hey Luz, are you ready to watch soul eater with me?" He asked, sitting on the sleeping mat.

"Not tonight love," She replied.

"Why not?!" King whined.

Luz faced the opposite direction and stripped from her outwear into pj's. She put them near the mat and got out her sketch pad.

"I have to finish a gift for Willow," she said, sitting down to begin sketching her friend's face.

"You can finish it tomorrow, I've been watching all week for us to watch soul eater!" 

"Sorry King, I promise we will watch it together tomorrow" she assured.

The furry demon grumbled under his breath and joined her on the mat. "What are you drawing anyways?" He asked, peeking over her shoulder.

"A picture of Willow" she responded.

"What's the occasion?"

"None, I just want to do something nice for my friend," she said.

"Do you have anything else in mind?"

Luz had finished Willow's eyes and moved on to her nose, "Tomorrow I'm 

going to create a plant statue with this picture".

"I want a plant statue of me!" King cried. 

Luz chuckled.

"And you've been doing a lot for Willow lately, last week you went out of your way to get her that plant baby".

Luz's heart raced, she already knew the next words coming, "She sounds more than a friend" King commented. 

"Friends do things for each other all the time" Luz struggled to tolerate her frisky heart, hoping the tone of her voice wasn't a dead give away.

"Eh, if you say so."

The room fell in silence and Luz worked diligently on Willow's portrait. The plant witch dominates her thoughts, now her heart flutters thinking of those olive green eyes behind the thin-rimmed glasses. The way her ear twitched at sudden noises. Willow had been nothing but a sweet-heart since day, she deserved the world and Luz was willing to give her it. Although these feelings bloomed, she didn't know if it was mutual on Willow's end, and she would keep them buried away. When Luz finally looked up from her sketch-pad King was fast asleep at the edge of her mat. She set aside the finished product and got some rest.

Later that night, Luz had woken up to relieve her heavy bladder, she carefully stepped over a sleeping King and visited the bathroom. After washing her hands, she found herself outside.

 The moon's bright orbs brighten her path as she walks through the woods. Luz was a moth drawn to light, she felt compelled to keep moving. The orbs glowed rapidly like glistening gems, Luz could hear the vibration. She was led into the opening and a massive bush that resembled Willow's head came in view. 

Woah...

"Thank you Luz!" It says

"Huh?"

Its large yellow luminous remind her of fireflies, she had accidentally swallowed one when she was seven.

"Thank you" it repeated.

"What for?" Luz asked.

She didn't get a response to her question,7 the bush thanked Luz on an endless loop. Suddenly, gravity reeled her forward and its mouth opened wide, swallowing her. 

Luz was expecting to be engulfed in darkness, her eyes were squeezed shut. She felt warmth and a chubby body press against hers, opening her eyes. Luz realized it was Willow. She embraced the plant witch hug and gently ran her hand along Willow's turquoise hair. 

"Luz!" 

Everything faded. Luz woke up in her makeshift room with an annoyed little demon held prisoner in her arms. "Luz let go!" He whines struggling to break free.

"Sorry.." she said sheepishly.

Luz released him and King scurried off on all fours. She took care of her personal hygiene then returned to the room for her uniform. When Luz went downstairs, Eda was waiting at the door with her staff. She wore her pajamas. "Can we take the tub?” 

“No, its for emergencies only”

“Please” Luz said, giving the grey haired woman pitiful eyes.

“I’m immune to those” Eda stated dismissively.

“But you can’t be the coolest witch without it,” 

“Keep it up and you’ll be walking to school” Eda said heading out the door. 

--

The schoolyard was still empty when Luz hopped off the staff. She watched Eda fly away, disappearing over the autumn colored trees. Luz took out her plant magic textbook and turned to the page about manipulation. After she got a good understanding, she pulled out the portrait of Willow and drew two symbols on them. Luz crossed her fingers and tapped the paper, a stem sprouted forth and the leaves took on the form of Willow's face. Two Lilac flowers blossomed on both sides, the topiary was the size of a miniature house plant. She had expected bigger  but before Luz could sulk her crush arrived. 

"Willow!" She quickly hid the plant behind her back.

"Hey" Willow smiled. 

Luz felt butterflies tickling her stomach, she forced a skittish smile and revealed the topiary. Willow eyes widened with astonishment, she took the plant from Luz's hands.

"Aww thanks" Willow shifted the plant in her other arm and gave her a hug. Luz no longer had butterflies pestering her insides. The euphoria buttered her up, if Luz hadn't stopped herself she would have kissed Willow. For a brief moment, the turquoise haired witch stared at her. Luz was about to look away but Willow touched her cheek and gently kissed her lips. She led Luz by the hand towards the school building. 

#the owl house #willow toh #willow park #willow the owl house #the owl house luz #luz noceda #willuz #eda the owl witch #toh eda #toh willow #toh luz

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet uglies, 55 indruck sfw? sorry apollo

Here you go! For those wondering, Apollo originates in my Amnesty Super Hero AU

“Okay sir, I’m gonna say this as nice as I can.”

Indrid looks up from his drawing of some mushrooms. The ranger, a man about his age whose little bronze name tag reads “D. Newton”, has the look of someone choosing his words very, very carefully.

“You are this close to me writin you up. And I mean this. Close.” He puts his thumb against his finger.

“I, is this not allowed?” The log he’s sitting on is technically on the trail, just next to it.

“This ain’t the problem. It’s everythin you done since this morning that’s the problem.”

“I-”

“First there was leavin your breakfast trash on the picnic table by the visitor center so chipmunks got into it--it’s real bad for them y’know, makes ‘em too bold--then there was the selfies on off-limits spots, then you had the fu, uh, freakin nerve to be rude to Juno when she asked you to stay in safe areas, you littered left and right, then you left a beer can in the reeds by the plover nestin’ grounds. I don’t even know where to start with that one; you know we don’t allow alcohol in the park. Campgrounds sure, but we don’t want fellas like you gettin drunk and then fallin off a rock. How can you be so careless, or not give a shit for a place people put time into protectin?

The smile that’s been spreading across Indrid’s face since the word “selfie” is wide enough that the ranger spots it.

“Man, if you think this is funny, you won’t when you’re too drunk to swim or run from a bear. Then I’m gonna have to bail your ass out, which I will, and you’re gonna eat a slice of humble pie big as that overinflated ego of yours.”

Indrid snickers. The ranger glares. Slowly, Indrid pulls back the hood of his sweatshirt and retrieves his glasses from the front of his shirt (he doesn’t wear them when drawing in color due to their red lenses). The other mans expression slides off confusion and tumbles into horror.

“Aw hell, I’m sorry sir. Thought you were your, uh, well, guessin you got a twin runnin around this park.” He pulls the brim of his hat down in a charming attempt to hide his face.

“I do, and this is far from the first time I’ve been scolded in his place. Less so since I dyed my hair” he indicates the artificial silver framing his face, “I’m mostly amused by how accurately you captured his orientation towards the world. It’s also bitterly funny to discover he made someone else's day as unpleasant as he made mine.”

The ranger studies him, seems to notice the creases by his eyes and mouth, “Seem a little old to be gettin forced into family time. Not that you look old. Just, uh, I mean, you might be younger than me, hard to tell with the hair, uh, yeah.”

Indrid points in the direction of the beachside campsites, “The Cold Family Reunion can only be begged off so long.” His phone dings, the reminder that it’s his turn to help his aunt with dinner, “speaking of which, I should pack up.” He quickly gathers his supplies, sends the other man a final smile, “thank you for the laugh, Ranger Newton.”

“You’re uh, you’re welcome. And tell your twin to throw his damn trash away.” He smiles as he says this, suggesting a joke, but Indrid resolves to remind Apollo of his manners anyway.

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

The fog caresses the coastline, hiding the dawn entirely. Indrid pulls his hood up against the chill, the wooden bench and viewing deck damp from the weather. He’s not going back to camp until he’s captured the sight before him; dozens of fishing boats on the dark water, their lights beautiful and soft against the grey world.

Sandy gravel crunches to his right, and then Ranger Newton appears. He keeps glancing at Indrid as he writes something indecipherable on a clipboard.

“I’m the nice one.” Indrid says in response to the quick, searching, looks.

“Thank fuck.” He turns so they’re actually looking at each other, “guess we’re both on the early shift.”

“Normally I wouldn’t be, but the cold and quiet is preferable to my twin snoring. I brought my own one person tent, but then my aunt and uncle had their monthly argument and she needed a new place to sleep.”

“That was mighty kind of you.”

Indrid shrugs, “Not really. I just want to get through this reunion with as little conflict as possible.”

“How’d you end up on this thing? Said you couldn’t get out of it but-”

“I just moved to town a month ago. Turns out this is a place my parents have always wanted to visit. Not enough to see me, mind you, or refrain from criticizing my choice of towns, but enough to host the reunion here so I had no escape. And if I want to eat with the family, I have to spend the night in the camp and not at home. And since money is tight after moving, well..."

The ranger whistles, “Damn, that’s rough. But uh, since you live in town you’ll actually get to see this place in nice weather.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He shivers, “though I enjoy the cold when I can be in my nice little apartment. In a tent, not so much.”

“If you get a good sleepin bag or good company, gets a lot better.” The ranger smiles, then looks at his notes, “sorry, that ain’t appropriate talk around a visitor.”

Indrid meets his green eyes, “If you have recommendations for either, I’m all ears.”

A gust of wind carries salt spray all the way to the platform, Indrid shivering as it mists his glasses.

“Here” the ranger holds out his hnd, “I gotta go open the visitor center; nice and warm in there.”

“...Could you possibly come back in ten minutes? I’d like to finish my sketch.”

“Sure, won’t kill me to check on the tide measures while I’m out here.” He tips his hat and soon Indrid sees him winding down a path to the beach. Eleven minutes later he’s back, telling Indrid about a huge starfish he saw.

On the walk to the visitor center, he learns the “D” on his nametag is for “Duck,” that he’s a transplant from West Virginia, and that they’re actually the same age. When Indrid explains that he’s a tattoo artist who sells his drawings on the side.

“You’ll appreciate this, then” Duck bends down to roll up his pant leg. Indrid appreciates the view and the well executed geometric tree tattoo on his ankle.

“Juno and I got ‘em together. Had to go with the ankle because I already got some on my arms. Can’t show those off right now though.”

“My, my, Ranger Newton, you’ll flash a scandalous ankle at a guest but not take him to the gun show?”

Duck laughs, the sound like the mating call of a strange tropical bird; absurd and enchanting.

“Glad you’re in town to stay, Indrid. Think you’re the kind of fella I’d like to get to know.”

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

Maybe he’s being childish. It’s not wrong for Apollo to say he’s making their father proud, that he’s successful, that he’s a golden boy of his field.

It’s just obnoxious for him to do this the one time their extended family expressed Indrid’s professional accomplishments. With that smile, the one Indrid knows for a damn fact he had fixed, that tone, that, that….

That voice sounds familiar.

He reverses course, takes the path he passed by that points towards the amphitheater. What he gets is more a firepit with a small stage, but standing at the center and addressing fascinated families is Duck.

Indrid sits on the rickety bench furthest from the stage, lets Ducks explanations of night blooming plants and the creatures that pollinate them drown out the echoes of family dinner. When the program ends and the parents shepherd their children off with instructions for bedtime and brushing teeth Indrid stays, not ready to leave but not intending to attract Duck’s attention.

He gets it anyway.

“Enjoy the talk?” Duck stays two steps down from him, rests a foot up on the bench, “this one is always real popular; when it gets warm, the little animal rehab place south of town brings education animals in. Y’know, bats and owls, stuff like that.”

“I’ll have to come back to see them.” The thought of seeing bats up close excites him, but he’s too tired to sell the emotion.

Duck frowns, “You okay?”

Indrid shakes his head, tells him about the constant comments, the threat of living forever as the family disappointment, a threat he can deal with until he’s around them all. Then he’s right back to being seventeen and afraid of failing them.

“....Apollo’s always been the golden boy, ruthless and goal focused like our father. He always knows just what to say to get under my skin and dig out the scar tissue,” Indrid sighs, “All I wanted tonight was to roast marshmallows and go to bed early.”

The ranger moved from the steps to the bench beside him as he told his story. Now, Duck looks at him, smile more soothing than the thrum of the distant waves, “I got an idea. Guessin’ you don’t gotta tell your family where you’re goin, right?”

“No, most of them will assume I’m off sulking and Apollo will hope I’ve fallen off a cliff.”

“Then leave ‘em to be their shitty selves and come home with me. Uh, not, not-not like that, fuck, like what you’re thinkin, uh. Fuck. What I mean is; I got a fireplace and some marshmallows. You want in?”

Indrid watches the dying fire flicker of the curves of his face, thinks back on the last week. The ranger has been a frequent companion, brings him hot cocoa from the little cafe and tells him where he’ll be for chunks of the day in case Indrid needs a break from his family. Last night, all Indrid could think about was wanting Duck to be in the tent beside him.

“Absolutely.”

On the drive over, Indrid points out his apartment complex and Duck points out the best places to eat and the cheapest laundromats. His house is tiny, looks like it was built when the town was a logging hub and not a tourist destination.

“Make yourself at home, it’ll take me a sec to get the fire goin’--uhuh, Taco, stop tryin’ to open that cabinet.” He hoists a yowling, blonde ball of fur on the couch. The cat directs a suspicious look Indrid’s way and then settles on top of the pile of blankets.

“You a s’more man?” Duck calls from the kitchen.

“No, thank you. I prefer my sugar in a single bite.”

“You eat marshmallows in one bite? I’m always worried I’ll choke.”

“I have an accommodating mouth.” Indrid smirks when Duck audibly drops the bag. He’s not always the best with social cues, but if the way Duck kept brushing their hands together on the center armrest in his car is any indication, the ranger is trying to pick him up.

Once the fire is going Duck sits on the rug, patting the spot to his left. Indrid joins him. Caramelizing sugar and increasingly sleepy laughter soon fills the air. Neither of them keep their knees from touching, and Duck keeps dropping his head to Indrid’s shoulder when he giggles. The whole scene is so heavenly Indrid isn’t paying attention to their marshmellow consumption. He reaches into the empty bag and makes a disappointed noise.

“Damn, we really went through ‘em.” He catches Indrid’s eye with a playful grin, “you still cravin’ sugar?”

Indrid licks his lips, “Yes.”

Duck cups his cheek, guiding him into a sleepy, close-mouthed kiss, brushing their noses together when he pulls back to murmur, “That do the trick?”

“Hmmmmm?” Indrid cocks his head, “no.”

The other man guffaws as Indrid pulls him down on top of him, kissing him happily and wiggling his hips when Duck digs his fingers into his hair. His own hands migrate under Duck’s shirts, finding his body just as warm and wonderful as he hoped.

He nips Duck’s lower lip. The ranger growls and Indrid is no longer tired.

“Care to see just how accommodating my mouth can be?”

Duck rolls them twice so they’re a safe distance from the fire, “Hell yeah.”

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

Indrid saunters into camp late in the morning, some of the Colds already packing up to depart. His twin is stuck on dish duty, grins like a barracuda when he spots Indrid.

“I don’t know why you’re here. You missed breakfast, and you weren’t in camp last night, so you don’t get lunch or dinner either. May as well skulk back into the shadows.”

“Mmm, yes, I was rather undutiful.” Indrid spots a figure checking campsite permits, who stealthily blows him a kiss, “but at this moment in time, I don’t particularly care.”

#indruck #meet ugly #indrid cold/ duck newton #taz amnesty #reader request