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tasteofshapes · 4 years

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“Oh Merlin, who let the Gryffindors in,” Draco says, appalled, when he catches sight of a familiar mop of black hair. Harry turns around just in time to meet Draco’s glare, a cup of Butterbeer in his hand, and gives Draco a fearsome scowl in return. “Sound the alarm, man the doors, we have intruders!”

“Daphne’s dating one of them,” Blaise says, as if that explains everything. He catches Draco’s elbow and steers him carefully away from the Gryffindors, who, as usual, have congregated around the food like a horde of hungry wild animals.

“Greengrass? I always knew she was a weak link! It isn’t Weasley is it?” Draco yanks his arm out of Blaise’s grip and whirls around, scanning the room for the Slytherin traitor, and finds Daphne holding hands and beaming at Parvati Patil, who is stunning in a red and gold outfit.

“Marginally acceptable,” Draco allows, “but just because she’s got a love life doesn’t mean that we all have to partake in this scandal!”

“Draco, this is not your party,” Blaise reminds him, rolling his eyes. “You know the rules. We can’t just kick them out. Besides, there’s so many people in here, you’ll never notice an extra addition. Or five.”

“Remind me again why we let the Hufflepuffs host this year’s Christmas party,” Draco says, which is when Pansy pops up next to them and says, “did you see the riffraff that just walked in. Honestly, these Hufflepuffs. The one year we let another house host, and this is what we get. Can’t trust them to do anything right.”

“Don’t get Draco started, but this is all Daphne’s doing,” Blaise tells her, and as one, the three of them turn to look at where Daphne’s got her arm around Parvati now, their heads bowed close together as they talk. Parvati laughs at something, and Daphne slides her hand to tenderly cup Parvati’s cheek.

“Oh I see.” Pansy shudders, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “In love with a Gryffindor. What a disgrace.”

“I’m too sober for this,” Draco says, and leaves Blaise and Pansy behind to their gossiping.

There’s a table tucked away in the corner of the Hufflepuff common room where they’ve stashed the alcohol, and Draco comforts himself from the horror of the Gryffindors invading the Christmas party by musing over the selection. For all their faults, at least the Hufflepuffs aren’t stingy, and there’s a nice variety of alcohol lined up in colourful glass bottles.

Draco’s contemplating if he can bring himself to try a Very Berry Whiskey when a familiar voice says from behind him, “I wouldn’t, unless you enjoy tooth-achingly sweet things.”

Draco turns, both surprised and unsurprised to see Harry standing there, firelight glinting off his glasses. “Potter,” he says icily. “What do you want? Isn’t it enough that you and your fellow louts have already crashed this party? Have you also come to witness my downward spiral into alcoholism?”

“I was invited,” Harry says indignantly, “and I was told that there was an amnesty declared for the party today. Came to see if it was true.”

Draco snorts. “It’s not an amnesty, you idiot, it’s neutral ground.”

“What’s the difference?”

“As long as you’re on the grounds, I won’t poison your Butterbeer, but it doesn’t mean I won’t be rude to you.” He doesn’t add that rudeness is technically frowned upon, since the whole idea of neutral ground is to try and foster common understanding, not start a verbal riot.

“So, you’ll be your usual self then,” Harry says, looking down at his cup of Butterbeer suspiciously. He tilts it this way and then, watching the liquid slosh inside the cup, then abruptly sets it down on the table and takes a careful step away from it.

Draco snorts again. “I said I won’t poison your Butterbeer. You’re quite safe, Potter.” After a moment’s deliberation, he selects Bilshen’s Firewhiskey - aged for thirty-nine years, with a strong smoky flavour, and an aftertaste of figs and peat and smoke - and pours it into a new cup and hands it to Harry.

Harry glances into the cup, then looks up at Draco, his mouth twisted into a small smile. “Are you asking me to trust the word of a Slytherin?” He takes a swig nonetheless, deliberately holding Draco’s gaze over the rim of the cup the whole time, and suddenly the room feels hot and crowded.

Draco swallows, but holds Harry’s gaze, and is proud when his voice comes out steady. “No, you’re quite right, never trust the word of a Slytherin. But we respect the rules of neutral ground. I’m not going to spit on fifty years of tradition just to get back at you on one day when I have the rest of the entire year to do it.”

Harry blinks at him in faint surprise. “Hang on. There’s been an annual inter-house party for the last fifty years? Why is this the first time we’re here for this then?” He frowns, thinking, and Draco can see when the moment of clarity hits and his face clears.

“Oh is it your first time,” Draco says blandly, “whoops, did we forget to send the Gryffindors the invites?”

Harry snorts, draining his cup. “Apparently so. Every year, for the last several years.” He eyes Draco balefully for a moment, then reaches for the Firewhisky again and adds, “and I’m pretty sure I know who the culprit is.”

“What a horribly suspicious mind you have,” Draco murmurs, deliberately not meeting Harry’s eye. “Tell me, do you always harbour such uncharitable thoughts at Christmas time?”

Harry’s startled laugh stirs something unexpected in the pit of Draco’s stomach, and his cheeks grow warm. Draco looks past Harry to survey the crowd, because Harry’s looking at him with something almost akin to amusement instead of scorn, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

In the short time that they’ve been talking, the room has filled up, and over the general noise of chatter, the soft strains of Christmas music fill the air. Across the room, Blaise catches Draco’s eye, one eyebrow arched in a query that could be interpreted as either need help? or are you close to committing murder?, and Draco gives him a slight shake of the head. Blaise shrugs indifferently, and turns away.

Draco glances at Harry, and catches Harry smiling back at Hermione across the room. She’s giving Harry the same quizzical look, head slightly tilted, and he smiles at her, warm and fond, and shakes his head and turns back to Draco.

It doesn’t escape his attention that this is the most civil that he and Harry have ever been with each other, and he’s vaguely surprised to find that he’s actually having a decent time. Distantly, he wonders what it would have been like if they had started out friends instead of enemies in different houses.

Secretly, he thinks that Harry might be wondering the same thing too. Harry keeps looking at Draco as if he’s never quite seen Draco before: surprised and amused and slightly wary all rolled into one. But they continue talking: about Quidditch; about Draco’s conspiracy theory that Professor Trelawney’s secretly a functioning alcoholic; about whether Professor Binns realises that he’s dead or whether he still tries to use the loo, and if so, how that would go - “I don’t want to think about that,” Harry says, making a face, “honestly Draco, please stop putting these ideas into my head” - and the alcohol keeps flowing, and they don’t kill each other, and when Draco looks up after countless cups of whiskey later, the room has considerably thinned, and he realises that they’re both smashed off their faces.

“Right then,” Draco says, and he’s horrified to discover that he’s wobbly on his feet.

Harry automatically reaches out and grabs his arm to steady him, and right, so they’re at that part of the evening. “You’re plastered.”

“Absolutely not! Unhand me this instance: Malfoys do not get plastered,” Draco says haughtily. Or at least he tries to, but he slurs his words and ruins the effect, and he ends up leaning into Harry all the same. Someone has clearly poisoned him because the room has started tilting. “‘I’ve been poisoned,” he says, surprised, and then shrugs philosophically and almost falls down. “Bound to happen sooner or later.”

“You’re plastered,” Harry repeats, except that he doesn’t sound quite so sure of himself as he wraps an arm around Draco’s waist to steady him and peers into Draco’s face. Their faces are so close that Draco can smell Harry’s alcohol-tinged breath on his cheek as Harry stares into his eyes and tries to decide whether he’s dying or just being dramatic.

Harry’s eyes are a bright, brilliant green, and for a wild moment Draco thinks that he actually has been poisoned when his heart begins to pound and his breath quickens. Abruptly, he’s all too aware of Harry’s large, strong hand around his waist and pulling him close, and how warm Harry feels, pressed up against him.

“You’re fine,” Harry decides after a long moment, and Draco says stupidly, “am I?” Harry blinks at him, and Draco quickly corrects himself: “I am! I’m cured! It’s a Christmas miracle!” He takes a step away, away from Harry’s warm arms and the tangled thoughts that come with them, and Harry blinks at him again, looking slightly lost with his arms now empty.

“But to be certain, you may walk me to my rooms,” Draco says, because Harry’s looking at him like he can’t understand why he’s standing there and not in his arms, and the funny feeling is back in the pit of his stomach.

“I may? How generous of you,” Harry says, teasing, and laughs. Draco would frown, because he doesn’t see what was so funny about that, except that Harry’s already pulling at his hand.

The corridors on the walk back to the dungeons is blessedly empty and quiet for once, except for the occasional creak of metal as the suits of armour shift around. Draco tells Harry how the Slytherins found Peeves trying to possess one once, and how strange it looked, with Peeves trying to make the suit dance and the suit jerkily counteracting all of Peeve’s movements and complaining all the while in its metallic, creaking voice. Harry laughs at the story, and then laughs again when Draco tries to imitate the suit dancing, all the way until they reach the dungeons.

“You’re mental,” Harry says, but smiles as he says it, and his smile is somehow warmer against the light from the sconces lining the dungeon walls.

“How dare you, I’m brilliant,” Draco says automatically. Then he remembers who he’s talking to, and says, carefully, “well, you’re not too shabby yourself, Potter. Although I think you need to work on your compliments. You’re not very good at giving them. Although I do think I am very good at receiving them.”

Harry chuckles. “Yes. Well then,” he says, knocking on the dungeon walls. “We’re here. So.”

“Yes,” Draco echoes, “so.”

“Good night Draco,” Harry says quietly, taking a step closer to Draco and looking up at him through dark lashes, the light casting shadows against his face. “And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Potter.”

“I’ll... see you around.” Harry looks slightly uncertain as he forces the question into a statement, but Draco nods.

“You will.”

And the grin that Harry gives him then feels like a promise of a new beginning.

HP MASTERPOST

#drarry #harry potter #drarry fanfic #draco x harry #draco malfoy #drarry fluff #merry christmas #tasteofshapes fic #draco malfoy being a smart-ass #begrudging friends #what do you want potter #is a question that is perpetually on draco's lips #ok i might extend this into something longer #otp: when green met grey

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monstersandmaw · 5 years

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Male lizardfolk x female reader (nsfw) *Commission*

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

A commission for @ivymemnoch, featuring a nerdy lizardfolk boy (colouring/design based on a European green lizard) and a tall reader. This is the first of my five commissions to be completed and posted on here, and since it’s a paid commission, it doesn’t get early release on Patreon. Enjoy!

8144 words, no warnings, only fluff, some geekery, and some nsfw at the end. I will add though that I discovered that snakes aren’t the only reptiles to have two penises... lizards do too.

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After a draining, all-day session in the recording studio, the last thing you wanted was to step out of the soundproofed booth and hear the relentless thrumming of raindrops on the windows.

The producer called over to you, briefly drawing your attention away from the foul weather, and grinned. “That was great! You really nailed her character. I think we can press on with the next section on Monday.” The sphinx smiled at you and stretched slightly before adding, “You have a good weekend now. Rest that voice of yours!”

You smiled and turned to look out of the nearest window with a grimace sliding onto your face. “Ugh. What a day to leave my umbrella behind,” you muttered. “Anyway, see you.”

Lingering just a moment more in the doorway of the recording studio, you eyed the rain and then - resigned to smelling like a wet werewolf - made a dash for it. Three seconds after you’d left the building, it doubled in strength and began to thrash down. Up ahead, still illuminated despite the fact that it was after five o’clock, was a shop you’d often thought about going in, but had never made time to venture inside. With an indignant squawk as the universe nudged you not-so-gently towards the comic book store by dripping water down your collar, you hurtled across the empty street, splashing through rapidly-forming puddles, and shot inside, soaked.

Standing on the mat for a moment, you shivered and gazed around at the room beyond. The walls were lined with bookshelves containing relatively ordinary looking books, and in the centre of the room was a lower stand displaying comics. On the top of this shelf, however, was a small army of figurines from a plethora of games and movies, and as you spotted a favourite of yours, you grinned. This place was nerd nirvana.

At the back of the room, surrounded as if in a shrine by a small alcove dedicated to arts and crafts and prop-making supplies for tabletop games, was the counter and cash register. The figure sitting behind it had looked up as you burst into his slice of peaceful heaven and the movement of his colourful head drew your eye over to him. Tall, slim but clearly muscular, with lime green skin speckled with gold and a wash of vibrant blue across his throat and up his cheeks towards friendly, golden eyes, the lizardfolk looking at you in mild surprise was frankly gorgeous.

You blinked stupidly for a second and then blurted, “I promise not to drip on any of the books.”

He grinned, a wide, warm smile that showed a row of pointed white teeth. “Appreciate it,” he said. His amber, unblinking gaze shifted to the rain and he said, “Gods, it’s really throwing it down out there.”

“Yup. I didn’t make it more than a hundred yards from work before bolting for cover. Nice place to duck into though,” you added, eyeing the figurines and graphic novels around you.

“You work near here?” he asked, setting down the tiny model he’d been painting. His clawed fingers were surprisingly slender and delicate.

You nodded. “Currently, at least. I’m a voice actor. The recording studio is just round the corner.”

“Sweet!” he exclaimed. “You voiced any characters I might know?”

You shrugged. “Maybe? I mean, Eliana from Ice Dragon Chronicles is probably the one I’m most known for? Mostly it’s just small parts for all sorts of things though. She was a rare break…”

“No way!” he breathed, “That’s awesome! Oh wow…” and he practically giggled with delight. His blue throat flushed a darker, more vibrant colour too. “That’s so cool. I’m sorry - you probably just wanted to browse in peace, or even just stay out of the rain. I’m sorry.”

Laughing softly, you said, “You know what? I’ve always wanted to check this place out, but I don’t really know where I’d start… I’ve read a few Manga, but I’d like to try a graphic novel…”

He stood, revealing just how tall he was. You were pretty tall yourself, for a human, but he stood easily a head higher than you. He blinked slowly and grinned, twitching his head towards the shelves along the walls. “Here’s one I always recommend to get people started. I warn you though, it’s a slippery slope… If you like this one, you’ll be obsessed in no time. I’m Bik, by the way.”

“I think I can handle it,” you smiled and he chuckled, handing you a slim but beautifully designed book with a dragon on the front and a female knight on a chestnut charger.

The art style was gorgeous and the writing seemed pretty good quality too, and as you leafed through the first few pages, you found yourself drawn in to the story about the female knight and the dragon. Finally you glanced up at him and said, “I’m assuming you don’t want me to read it all here right now…”

“It’d be nice if you bought it,” he grinned playfully.

He’d just reached out to take it from you when the door opened and a hunch-shouldered werewolf pushed inside, having just shaken the worst of the weather off on the doorstep all over their companion. The person behind her was a tiny, slender, and extraordinarily pretty young woman with pastel lilac hair that for some reason looked natural rather than dyed. Despite her almost innocent, childlike looks, she seemed decidedly furious about the soggy insult from the werewolf. In turn behind them came a figure who would have blotted out the daylight in the doorway had there been any to speak of outside.

You’d never met a hobgoblin before, and you tried not to stare as he lumbered in after the other two who had come to an abrupt halt at the sight of Bik and you standing together with your new graphic novel between you. The grin on the werewolf’s face made you think of feeding time at the zoo, and Bik clearly noticed it because his lithe tail swished a few times behind him in annoyance.

“Shall I take that for you?” Bik asked, offering his elegant hand again for the book and leading you over to the till so that you could pay for it.

You smiled and nodded, aware that the small group behind you were muttering between themselves. Bik was obviously aware of it as well, and seemed irritated by it, though you weren’t sure why. As you fished out the right money from your wallet, he muttered, “My D&D group… We meet every Friday. I’m sorry about them.”

“They seem nice,” you smiled, trying to reassure him. “You know, I’ve never played.”

“Really?” he asked, his golden eyes flashing brightly for an instant.

You shook your head and took the book from him, sliding it into your bag to keep it dry. “One thing at a time, eh?” you grinned before he could invite you to join in and he laughed.

“Hope to see you back again,” he added sheepishly. “There are some others I can recommend to you, whether you like that one or not.”

You nodded. He seemed so cute with the way he tilted his head and blinked his big eyes every now and again. His colouring was also astonishingly pretty, looking like a mosaic of gold and green all along his back, with that vibrant zing of blue around his throat. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” you said as you turned to go, and you really meant it.

While you were walking down the row of books towards the door, grateful that the rain seemed to have lessened considerably, you heard the werewolf dig her friend in the ribs and mutter, “Talk about your type!”

“Shut up,” Bik hissed. “Or she won’t come back.”

Of course, you did find yourself returning to his shop, though not on a Friday evening. You were sure his friends were nice, but you weren’t really there to meet them; at least, not just yet.

Bik’s face lit up when you stepped inside and he hopped down off the counter where he’d been sitting like a naughty schoolboy, swinging his legs and reading a comic which sat in his lap. “You came back!” he chirruped as he set it aside and came over. He wore tight-fitting jeans with a big hole tailored in the back for the thick root of his tail, and a blue t-shirt with a faded print on.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” you asked, aiming for playful but still coming across as a little shy, perhaps even coy. “You said you had more recommendations for me…”

“You liked it then?”

“Loved it! The twist at the end was amazing.”

His toothy grin made your stomach flip over and you glanced away as a blush rose up your cheeks.

You spent the next half an hour dissecting every detail about the first book he’d recommended, and from there, he chose three others that might suit.

Over the next few weeks, you returned to the shop regularly, and on one blustery August afternoon, you found him preparing some props for his next D&D session. Instead of talking books, you asked him about them, and he tilted his head in that adorable way he had, glancing over the half-finished figurines and what looked like a maquette of an old castle ruin or something.

“Did you make that too?” you asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah. It helps with the game, but honestly I just enjoy making stuff…”

“They’re beautiful! You could work in the props department at a film company or something.”

His blue throat became so vibrant in contrast with his lime green skin that it almost hurt to look at him, and he half turned away. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I get a lot of free time in the shop; fellow nerds aren’t too thick on the ground here, if you know what I mean. Hey, listen,” he added, scratching the back of his head with a clawed finger. “I’ve… uh… I’ve been wondering if maybe you’d like to come along to a session one day? You don’t have to take part or anything if you don’t want to, and we are, like, halfway through this campaign, but if you wanted to you could fill in for one of the NPCs or something… But… uh…” He trailed off, embarrassed and picked up one of the half-finished mimic chests on the counter top.

You watched as he turned it over in his delicate fingers and then chuckled. “You know what? I’d love to.”

At that, he dropped it and spun back around. “You’re serious?”

“Sure! Why not?” you asked, stooping to pick it up and handing it back to him. “Should I bring snacks?”

“Oh my god, could you get any more perfect!” he blurted and then laughed, staring down at the miniature mimic in his hands as if hoping that it might just eat him up on the spot. “Snacks would be amazing, but you don’t have to. Usually we take it in turns to bring something. It’s Oleander’s turn this Friday.”

“Oleander?”

“I don’t know if you remember her, but she’s the tiny one with the purple hair. She’s half fae and all sass. She bakes the most amazing sugar cookies though…”

“Got a sweet tooth then?” you asked and he nodded.

“Duly noted. Tell me about the others? Was the big one a hobgoblin?”

Bik nodded. “Yeah, that’s Jos. He’s kind of shy, but he’s great once you get to know him. He’s playing this tiny elven bard, and she’s -” he broke off, realising he was about to go off on a long and potentially quite boring waffle about their characters. Clearing his throat, he said instead, “Anyway, so yeah, that’s Jos. The werewolf is Emma. She’s… a bit brash and loud at times, but she means well.”

“How do you guys all know each other?” you asked, moving over to examine the figurines on the counter while he talked.

“From school, actually,” he laughed, setting the mimic back down. “It’s the typical - stereotypical I guess - thing of a bunch of rejects forming a bit of a ragtag band, and we’ve just been best mates ever since.”

With a fond smile, you firmly agreed to come to their next session.

You showed up with a bag of cookies, not wanting to seem tight but equally not wanting to try and one-up the resident baker in the group. You were also running a tad late after the recording session had run over, and the door was locked when you arrived at quarter past seven, and you had to bang on the glass repeatedly until Bik scuttled out to rescue you.

“I’m so sorry!” he said as he stepped to one side and let you in. “I thought I left it off the latch for you! I should also have given you my number. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine!” you laughed as he cringed. “But I wouldn’t say no to having your number…”

He went still and then smiled.

You followed him into a storage room at the back of the shop which had been decked out with flickering LED candles, and in the centre of the room was a round table set up for their game. They hadn’t really started yet, and Oleander was, to your surprise, sitting in Jos’ lap. He pecked her affectionately on the top of the head and picked her up, setting her back down on the ground. The werewolf, Emma, snuffed at the air and turned around, tail wagging from between the slats of her chair.

“Hey!” she grinned, leaping up and stepping over to hug you. “I’m sorry. I’m a hugger. You made it though! And…” and she sniffed ostentatiously, “And you brought goodies!”

“I couldn’t not bring goodies,” you chuckled, handing the modest bag of cookies to Bik.

“Tibikthio,” Emma said in a mock-formal tone to Bik, “You picked a good one.”

You turned slowly to the lizardfolk who had closed his eyes in semi-horror. “I hate it when you use my full name,” he groaned.

“Tibikthio…” you repeated. “I like it…”

You caught the tiniest flicker of something cross his face but it was gone a second later.

“Well he hates it!” Emma barked. “Come on, pull up a chair.” She adopted a silly accent, like some old crone, and added, “There’s plenty of room, m’dear!”

Smiling, you glanced at Bik, who still looked a bit embarrassed about the whole name thing, and then you settled in between him and Emma as the game began.

To start with, you stayed on the periphery, letting them tell their story and act it out. Some of them would have made good voice actors, though Oleander tried a bit too hard in places. But they were having an absolute blast. Bik was the dungeon master, weaving elements of improv and story-crafting seamlessly into one narrative, though there were some gaffes and hilarious moments when it all fell apart. By the end of the session, you had cried tears of laughter until your stomach hurt, and had had your heart in your mouth for the entirety of one fight in a long-lost temple.

It was past ten when they wrapped up, and Bik insisted that they just leave everything there for next time. “It’s late,” he said, “And who wants to tidy up now anyway…?” He was met with a chorus of nods and yawns.

Your stomach growled though as you stood and you felt a bit light-headed.

“You ok?” Bik asked, head tilting quizzically. “You look a bit squiffy… Didn’t make you queasy with all the guts and goop at the end of the fight, did I?”

Reassuring him, you told him you had just missed supper that night because of work, and he looked horrified. “There’s a place round the corner that’s open til midnight. You want to grab something?”

Your initial reaction was to refuse politely and say you’d rustle something up when you got home, but you happened to catch Oleander’s violet eyes as she looked from Bik to you with what could only have been described as a look of hope on her face, so you took a gamble and nodded. “Sure, I’d like that.”

Bik shut up the shop and bid his friends goodnight. Oleander winked at him but offered no comment before demanding that Jos carry her home, which he dutifully did. Bik caught you looking at them and smiled. “They’ve been together since they were sixteen. Real high school sweethearts.”

“They’re adorable,” you offered. “I mean, they’re kind of polar opposites, but… it’s nice.”

“There’s hope for those of us who tend to prefer other species…” Bik muttered playfully. “Come on, it’s not far.” As you walked along the empty street, he asked, “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” you replied honestly. “I had no idea it was so…” you waved your hand while you searched for exactly the right word.

“Nerdy?”

You snorted a laugh and corrected him. “Complicated… involved… complex…”

He shrugged casually and shivered. “It’s what you make of it, I guess. We’ve been plotting this particular campaign for months. It’s nice to be able to play it finally!” He shivered again and hugged his bare arms around himself, claws scratching slightly on his rough skin.

“Are you cold?”

He nodded. “I forgot my jacket. I’m not very good with the cold. It’s a lizardy thing.”

The evening wasn’t particularly chilly, but you supposed he was cold-blooded.

“You want my jacket?” you asked. “I think your shoulders are slim enough that it’d probably fit you.”

He shot you an odd look. “Isn't the guy supposed to be the one to offer that to the girl?”

“Only if you stick to stuffy old gender roles,” you grinned. “You want it or not?”

“Yes please,” he mumbled and took it off you with a grateful smile. He looked odd wearing it, but he burrowed into it for the remainder of the short walk to the late-night restaurant.

The two of you sat down and chatted, and you remarked on just how relaxed it felt.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s… It’s nice. I’m glad you got rained on all those weeks ago…”

“Me too,” you laughed. He was a dork, but you liked that he felt genuine, and that his sense of humour was a bit off the wall.

The restaurant wasn’t fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but the food they served looked amazing. Run by a big Highland minotaur with a massive belly and a hearty laugh, it offered exactly the kind of meal you needed after not having had much all day, and the two of you took a seat in a quiet corner on some comfortable, diner-style benches.

The lizardfolk who took your order reminded you of a gecko, and had pinkish colouring and large, blue eyes. While you had always been drawn to lizardfolk, somehow no one seemed to compare to Bik lately.

While you waited for your food, Bik interrupted your musing and asked, “What made you get into voice acting? Maybe next time you can voice some of the other characters they meet…?”

“I think I’d like that,” you admitted. “Normally everyone just asks me to do impressions of famous people, you know, because I have an ear for accents and all that.”

He smiled and rested his chin in his hands, staring at you unblinkingly. It might have made anyone else seem a bit intense, but with him it just seemed endearing. As much as he loved to tell a story, he seemed just as happy to listen to one too.

“Honestly, I kind of fell into it. I did music and drama at college and was all set to go down the ‘traditional’ acting line, but I found I was more comfortable bringing characters to life with my voice than my entire body. It’s still really hard work though. Most people reckon that if you can do a few accents or a funny voice, that’s it, but it’s so much more than that.”

He nodded in agreement. “Oh absolutely! I mean, I think I gathered as much just from what we do in our little amateur group. We all sit round a table and we say our ‘lines’, and we all bring our characters to life as convincingly as we can. We’ve been doing it for years, but we’re still not very good!” Bik grinned at you, showing all his teeth, and you smiled back. A moment later he added, a bit dreamily, “I still can’t believe you voiced Eliana. She’s one of my favourite characters ever! I love that game. I wish she’d been a playable character…”

You laughed, honestly a bit bashful.

Before it could become awkward, your food arrived and the two of you chatted some more around mouthfuls of delicious, humble, homely food until you thought you were going to burst.

“Oh man,” you groaned, sitting back in your seat. “I won’t need to eat for a week!”

Bik smiled and said, “I actually probably won’t eat for a week.”

“Wow, that’s…”

“Economically beneficial?” he snickered. “True. I’d rather be like that than like Jos. He has to eat six meals a day just to fuel his body.” He leaned on the table and added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “And you know what? Oleander eats just as much as he does.”

“No way!” you gasped. “But she’s tiny! How does she do it?”

“She’s half Fae,” he said. “There’s probably magic involved.”

“Lucky her,” you muttered. “Though on second thoughts, grubbing up six meals a day sounds like a lot of effort. But seriously though, I am so full.”

The minotaur who owned the place came out at that moment and said in a heavily accented rumble, “Ach, too bad! I was gonna offer you’s some dessert!” He waggled a pair of menus at you hopefully.

“We’ll just have to come back next week,” you said and the minotaur laughed heartily.

Bik seemed sleepy after the heavy meal, but he walked you back to your place and you exchanged an awkward hug on the threshold. You got the sense that it wasn’t just you who wished it had been more, but neither of you was ready to make that leap just yet.

That first Friday was the first of many trips to the shop to watch them play D&D together, and after only a few weeks, you began to join in more activelyn. And so you found yourself lending your vocal cords to street merchants and beggars, high nobles and sea captains as the unlikely group made their way across their fictional land. The tables had turned a bit, and now it was you who made them helpless with laughter, even mimicking Oleander’s very particular speech patterns when the group ran into a mimic.

“That’s amazing!” she said. “Are you sure you’re not Fae?”

“No,” you said, “I mean, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I’m very ordinary…”

“You’re not ordinary at all!” Bik blurted and everyone burst out laughing.

“We all know that Bik’s got the hots for you!” Emma grinned.

Oleander chimed in with, “Well, as much as a cold-blooder can have the ‘hots’ for anyone…”

“Oi,” Bik grunted. “I’m sitting right here you know!”

“Better speak up more often,” Oleander teased playfully, chucking him affectionately under the chin like he was a favourite hunting hound or something, “Or she won’t notice you…”

“I’m going to write you all into a jail cell next week,” the dungeon master grumped. “Then you’ll be sorry.”

After that session, he claimed he was tired and begged off going to supper with you. Of course you said it was fine, but you had grown used to your private suppers together and fought off the lump of disappointment that lodged itself unexpectedly in your throat. He waved and slouched off down the street, leaving the rest of you outside the dark and empty shop.

“I think you went a little far this time,” Jos commented in his deep, gravelly voice to the two girls and they sighed. “He’s always been very sensitive about… you know, ‘matters of the heart’…”

“Yeah. Poor thing,” Oleander said and she looked at you with her large purple eyes. “The more he likes someone, the more awkward he can get. I’m sorry we butchered it tonight for you though. I’ll make it up to you. Fae’s honour.” After a pause, she added, “You do like him, right?”

“Very much,” you admitted quietly. “He’s very gentle. It’s nice.”

“He used to play lacrosse back in high school,” Jos grinned. “He wasn’t gentle then! But he’s sweet when it comes to people he cares about. He looked out for me at school.”

You shot him a surprised look and he laughed. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “You just don’t look much like the type who needs anyone to look out for them…”

Oleander patted his colossal forearm and cooed, “Ol’ Jos here wouldn’t say boo to a housefly, would you darling?” He smiled affectionately at her and said nothing. “We’ve always been the outcasts and misfits I guess. Bik’s the most normal one of the lot of us, all things considered.”

Emma announced with a sudden curse that she was running late to meet her girlfriend, and loped off into the night on all fours with an accompanying farewell howl, her backpack bouncing around on her shoulders, and Oleander and Jos bid you goodnight and headed off towards the bus stop, leaving you to make your own way back. It was strange not to have Bik by your side that night, and it made you realise how close you’d become to him over the last few weeks.

Back home, you curled up on the sofa, not ready to start thinking about bed just yet, and had just got your phone out to drop him a text when your message tone chimed at you. The way your heart clenched with excitement at the sight of Bik’s name on the notification made you pause a moment and wonder just what this affection for him was turning into. Images of his bright green skin and golden eyes darted across your mind; the sound of his laugh, the way his tail coiled itself off the ground when he walked, the way his clawed hands held the little props he liked to make… You’d been telling the truth when you’d admitted to Oleander just how much you liked him.

‘Hey’, his text began. ‘Sorry I bailed like that. Did you get home ok?’

‘:) yeah,’ you replied. ‘And it’s fine. I get it, but they meant well. And I’m looking forward to the next session already!”

Jos was the one who finally insisted that you had to become a permanent member of their fictional gang. Casting a look at Bik as you all loitered in the main shop after the session, you saw the way he bit his thin lips and coiled his tail around one ankle. “Should I?” you asked.

You’d grown in confidence around them, glad to have been welcomed into their group, and he nodded mutely.

“That doesn’t seem very enthusiastic…” you shot with tongue-in-cheek humour dancing in your eyes.

“Obviously he’d love that,” Emma said. That day she wasn’t in her wolf form, and it was one of the few times you’d ever seen her as such. She had ash blonde hair with a harsh side-shave above her left ear while the rest was long, tied back in a ponytail. Her body was strong and muscular, and honestly she was utterly gorgeous.

You cocked an eyebrow at him and adopted the tone of one of the temple guardians you’d voiced for them earlier that evening. “Come now,” you said with mock sternness, “Speak the truth, young dragonling…”

Bik immediately caught on and followed the joke as he spoke in the voice of his dragonborn bard, quavering and simpering. “Please… oh Great One, don’t make me speak more on the subject… I’m only a worthless wyrm…”

You closed the short distance between the two of you and leaned in close. His jaw slackened slightly, his throat bobbing, and his beady, amber eye locked onto your face. “You are no such thing,” you smiled. Biko’s throat worked nervously. Drawing back, you added, “And I’d love to join the group. You’ll have to help me think of a character.”

Bik still looked like he’d suffered a minor heart attack, but Jos whooped and Oleander giggled. “Great!” they said as one.

You turned to Bik and said, “Maybe you and I can chat it over after dinner, if you’re still up for our usual post-session snack?”

“Definitely,” he croaked, voice sounding thick and slightly awestruck. He looked a bit stunned, but you decided it was in a good way.

He held the door open for you and you stepped close to him as you headed out into the late evening, pressing a hand flat against his chest as you passed, and murmured, “Thanks.”

He recovered quickly, though he did seem to be concentrating very hard on the task of locking up the shop, and as the two of you walked away from the others, he kept glancing down at you.

“What?” you finally asked with a giggle.

“Nothing.”

“It’s clearly something…” you pressed, turning and walking backwards so you could look at his face. “Regretting your decision to let me join the gang?”

“Not at all!” he replied, apparently horrified that your thoughts had gone there. “No… The opposite actually…”

“Oh,” you sighed.

He breathed your name and then stopped. You drew to a halt as well, watching him with a hammering heart. Starting to talk again seemed tricky, but he managed it. “I… Uh… I’m really glad you’re… you know… around… Ah, shit… I’m so bad at this…”

“I’m glad I’m around too,” you said, and you slid your hand into his. His skin was rough and cool, and your first thought was that you would very much like it against other parts of your body.

Bik tightened his grip on your fingers briefly and let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “I’ve never, uh… courted a human before… Is that even the right term for it?”

“You can call it what you like,” you said. “And you don’t have to do anything special or different. Just… keep hanging out with me. Maybe we could watch a movie or something some time?”

“Ok,” he said, swallowing thickly again. “Let’s go somewhere different for dinner?”

You turned your eyes from his to the restaurant sign just up ahead. ��But we always go here,” you said. “And we’re almost there… Where else is going to be open at this time of night?”

“You could… come back to my place?” he asked. “I mean, it’s nothing special, but… I’m a tidy reptile, I promise! No hoards of strange things either. I’m not a dragon…”

You had to laugh at his oddball sense of humour that only got quirkier the more apprehensive he got. He also couldn’t stop his throat from fanning slightly too, the reptilian version of sweating nervously you supposed. “Alight. I’d like that.”

The upper storey of the old house where he lived was open plan, with beautiful bare rafters and sloping ceilings, and hardwood floors. His claws clacked adorably on them when he moved about. He also had the heating on stupendously warm, and you took your coat and jumper off immediately. “Sorry,” he said when he saw what you were doing.

You reassured him, and started to look about a little bit while he busied himself in the kitchen and poured you both a drink.

There were bookshelves on practically every available space, and as well as containing a collection of rare first editions and hard-to-come-by novels, they also sported photos, some in battered frames and others just propped up here and there. Most of them featured lizardfolk who looked a lot like him. “Family?” you asked and he came over to stand beside you.

“Yeah. We were a big clutch,” he said as he held the glass out for you. “Poor mum! There are twelve of us.”

He told you the names of each of his siblings, and what they were up to now, but you were really only half listening to the words. There was something magical about his voice, some unearthly quality it took on when he began to tell a story, regardless whether that was a story about his own life or a fantasy tale made up with his friends.

“What?” he asked softly.

“I… I like the sound of your voice,” you said honestly, and you reached your fingers tentatively up to touch the blue of his throat. He drew in a shaky breath, eyes closing as his reptilian head tilted upwards to allow you better access to him. “You’re very beautiful,” you whispered. “The colour of your skin is incredible… I like this bit too,” you added, running a finger down his cheek where it blended from green speckled with gold to intense blue.

Bik brought his hands to your shoulders and looked down at you, blinking slowly. “Really?” he asked. “It’s not very… I mean… most males of my species have much deeper blue… I mean, just look at my brothers,” he added awkwardly, nodding at a picture behind you.

“I like your blue,” you chuckled without turning around.

Embarrassed, but obviously deeply flattered, he brushed his knuckle against your cheek and said, “Would you like that supper or do you have other things on your mind?”

With a grin, you said, “I suppose I could be distracted by food…” you admitted grudgingly as your stomach rumbled.

You watched him walk away to the kitchen area of the loft apartment, and sighed. This was turning into exactly what you’d hoped it might - a friendship blossoming into something deeper.

Wanting to test that theory, you crossed to join him and, while he still had his back to you, you slid your arms around his slender waist and hugged him. “You need a hand?” you asked, pressing your cheek against his back.

“I… I was going to suggest takeout,” he said bashfully, glancing back over his shoulder at you. “But if you want me to cook, I can?”

You shook your head. “It’s getting late,” you said, releasing him. “Another time. Let’s get takeout.”

While you waited for the food to arrive, you bickered playfully over movie choices, finally settling on some cheesy old film about a dragon who shared his heart with a selfish boy. It was actually pretty good, but it was still horrendously dated in places. It didn’t matter to you though. The food was really good, and the two of you snuggled up on the sofa to eat, with you leaning against his side.

“I couldn’t do this with many people,” you said, nudging him gently with your elbow.

“Do what?”

“Cosy up under someone’s arm. I’m usually too tall.”

He chuckled and swallowed. “Never dated an orc then, I take it.”

You shook your head. “Not dated all that much at all to be honest.”

“What? But your gorgeous,” he blurted and his skin flushed a much darker green. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you said and put your hand reassuringly on his thigh. He jumped and then slid his arm around your shoulders, setting his empty takeout box down on the coffee table beside the sofa.

He gazed at you, a more serious look in his eyes, and said, “You know, I couldn’t help noticing your choices of media…” You flicked him a frown and he went on. “Ok, the first graphic novel with the dragon was on me, but everything else has also had dragons or lizards in…”

“You detecting a preference here?” you sassed gently.

“Am I?”

With an ostentatious roll of your eyes, you said, “I mean, I’ve always thought your kind extremely beautiful, but my interest in you is to do with you. It’s not some empty kink. You know that, right?”

He nodded slowly. “Just checking.”

“And what about you?” you said, also setting your empty food box down and shifting your position so that you came to rest astride his lap, the film almost over, forgotten and playing in the background. “I have to admit that your dragonborn seems to like humans rather a lot… Have you got a thing for us warmbloods?”

His throat worked and he didn’t meet your eye for a moment. “I mean… yes…” he said, and his clawed hands found your wide hips. He ran a circle carefully over them and moaned, his own hips shifting a little beneath you. “But when you walked into my shop, all bedraggled and soaking wet, I’d honestly never seen anyone more beautiful in my whole life.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek. He turned his head slightly as you moved away and drew you back for a proper kiss. His claws raked gently through your hair, messing it up as he gripped you firmly but tenderly, and his tongue slid slowly out to taste you, savouring the kiss. It wasn’t a conventional kiss like those you were used to, but it worked perfectly well. You rolled your hips against him once again and he broke the contact, letting his head fall back against the sofa cushions. His tail coiled and uncoiled beside you on the sofa and you reached for it.

“Can I touch you here?” you asked and he nodded breathlessly.

He gasped as you stroked your fingertips along the slightly rough skin of his tail and he brought the tip of it up to caress the back of your hand.

“Kinky,” you grinned and he snickered.

Bik, somewhat slack-jawed and clearly aroused, brought his blunt muzzle to the curve where your neck met your collarbones, and inhaled the scent of you deeply. His tail coiled tightly around your wrist for a moment before unravelling and falling limply onto the sofa again. “I want you,” he rasped.

You let your hips grind into him again and he gasped and uttered a soft curse under his breath as he stared almost reverently up at you. You nodded, and his claws hooked the hem of your top and lifted it up carefully, revealing your bra and he made short work of the clasp. Taking the weight of each breast in his hands, he caressed you and then, with pupils blown wide and dark so that his irises were a mere halo of gold, he took your nipple delicately between his sharp teeth and very gently sucked, moaning softly as he repeated the gesture on the other one. His rasping tongue curled around them too as they hardened under his attentions and you gave a shaky exhale.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he let go, leaving you throbbing and tingling. “Gods, you’re so beautiful.”

“Bik…” you groaned when he stopped touching you so that he could simply stare at your half-naked body in his lap.

He smiled and to your immense surprise, simply stood up, hooking his arms under your thighs as you gripped his waist instinctively with your legs. He was a lot stronger than he looked and you nearly yelped in surprise. “I’ve got you,” he said as he carried you towards his open bedroom door, nudging it shut behind him with his tail.

He laid you down on top of the duvet and undressed the rest of you slowly, savouring the sight of you as he gradually revealed your body. You looked up at him dazedly and saw the tent straining against his jeans. “Bik… Not fair,” you said. “You’re still dressed.”

More nervously now that the attention was on him, he took off his own t-shirt to reveal a pale, creamy green stomach and chest. He was still stippled with other hues of green and even a few freckles of black, but his front was mostly pale. His lean waist and narrow hips looked deliciously inviting and you sat up and ran your fingers around the inside of his waistband just to watch him shiver beneath your touch.

His hands hung quietly by his sides as you undid the button of his jeans and he stepped out of them carefully. His taloned feet were as delicate as his hands, and you marvelled at them too before letting your gaze sweep up his slim, strong calves to his thicker and more muscular thighs and to the tight, black boxer-briefs that hugged every single curve of his body.

Bik lay down beside you without taking them off and raked his claws up the length of your legs and, applying a little pressure to your hip, pushed you onto your back. With his tail, he tugged your right ankle close to his body and parted your legs enough for him to run the pad of his thumb in a slow, teasing circle around the soft, sensitive skin above your clit.

Your body lurched joyously at his touch and you sucked in a breath. You began to tingle all over, heat prickling beneath your skin as he woke your whole body up with reverent kisses and touches.

“Can I taste you?” he asked a while later after he’d reduced you to a writhing, whimpering mess, and you nodded.

After you moved further up the bed to give him more room, he reverently placed both palms on your hip bones and nosed gently at your sex. His tongue licked a long, slow stripe and you cried out and arched your back as he laved over your lips and just flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“You taste so beautiful,” he said before returning his attention to your body. He circled and nudged at you, dipping his tongue deep inside you as well, always coming back to your clit until you were almost screaming with want.

“Bik, please… Please make me come,” you panted. “I’m so close…”

“Can humans only come once then?” he asked with over-accentuated ignorance, and you knew from the tone of his voice that he knew the answer to that already. You growled inarticulately at him and he pulled back. “I’d better stop then.”

“No!” you half sobbed. “Please…”

Smiling softly, he stared at you and moved his thumb back to your swollen clit. His claws were too sharp for him to work you inside, but the pattern he made on your skin with his tongue was enough to drive you right to the edge, and then as the white heat built inside you, you felt your orgasm rolling over you like a great ocean breaker and you cried out, grasping at the sheets. As you came, he pressed his tongue hard against you, savouring you as you came against him.

When you eventually slumped back against the pillows, breathing hard and almost dizzy with how good you felt, you half opened one eye to find that he had lain down on his back and was palming his erection through the fabric of his boxers.

“Bik?” you asked in a slightly slurred whisper. Your fingers moved to the waistband and he tensed slightly. “Bik?”

Licking his lips nervously, he nodded and you drew his boxers off. At the top of his legs was a mounded sheath which quite obviously contained not one but two cocks. Neither was necessarily all that large, but they were very beautiful, and fully erect.

“We’re not exactly built like humans,” he said bashfully as you stared openly at him. “I… I was worried that -” he cut off with a deep grunt as you trailed your fingers around the edges of his sheath. His twin cocks - both a bright vibrant green tipped with blue - writhed slightly, coiling around one another and glistening with the same clear fluid that slicked his sheath.

“You’re beautiful, remember?” you reminded him, shakily propping yourself upright on one elbow to get a better look at him. You repeated the gesture, running your fingers tips around his sensitive sheath, and he accepted your words as truth as you started to worship him with the same careful tenderness he’d just shown you.

As you lavished attention on him, he started to unravel.

Soon his spine bowed up off the bed and his hips squirmed as you worked his twin cocks in one hand. The tighter you gripped him, the more noise he made as they twisted together beneath your fingers, and you finally wrung a deep, guttural, low-frequency rumble out of him that reminded you more of an alligator than the more delicate lizards he resembled.

“Gods,” he rasped, “You make it feel like spring…” and you knew he was referring to the traditional lizardfolk mating season. You’d just lowered your mouth to the tip of one of his cocks and given it a tentative suck when he blurted, “Can I come inside you?”

You nodded, and he switched positions with you so that he was on top. The heat of his cocks was a delicious contrast to the constant coolness of the rest of him and you bucked upwards against him just to feel them pressing against your sensitive clit.

“Both?” he asked warily and you nodded again, shifting so that he could line himself up. He kissed down your neck and between your breasts again before he nudged the tips of his cocks to your entrance. As he slid into you, slowly stretching you full, you watched his face carefully. Again, he began to rumble softly and he almost couldn’t speak as he hissed, “So tight… so hot… gods, you’re so hot…”

With a final push of his hips, he slid all the way inside you and paused a moment, clearly fighting the instinct to come almost immediately. Recovered, breathing steadily, he began to slide in and out, his rhythm increasing in tempo as he lost himself in the sensations of your body. The way his cocks felt inside you, twisting together and shifting in a way that no toy could ever hope to replicate, was unlike anything you’d ever experienced and you knew you were going to come again in no time.

“I’m…” he grunted.

“Me too,” you said, grabbing his rough-skinned arms and pulling yourself even further onto his cocks. “Bik, I’m going to come again.”

“Fuck,” he croaked as you clenched tight around him with a cry.

You wrenched his orgasm from him with the force of your own and he arched his spine, hips driving him deep inside you as he released, and he yelled out, voice hoarse, the sound cracked and broken. His jaws parted to reveal his sharp teeth and you kept your grip on his arms as you came a second time.

He shuddered violently, grunting and breathing hard through flared nostrils, and then fell forwards, barely catching himself in time on his forearms. He was spent and exhausted and so beautiful. His blue colouring shone in the dim light of his bedroom and you trailed your fingers lazily along the bridge of his nose towards his lips.

“That was incredible,” he whispered when he’d got his breath back. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No,” you smiled and he hugged you briefly, lapping a little lizardy kiss on your forehead before pushing himself up on shaking arms and sliding free of you. His cocks coiled briefly in the warm air and he rolled onto his back beside you. With your thighs still slick with his release, you tucked yourself up beside him and took your time in exploring his relaxed body. Where before he had been tense, almost nervous, worried that his non-human body would be too strange for you, now he seemed to have fallen peacefully into a haze of bliss, and he let your hands roam all over his torso and down to his hips while wearing a soft smile the whole time.

His cocks lay soft across his skin, occasionally twitching and drooling a little, but eventually they began to shift back into his sheath. He slid his hand down and adjusted them, and shot you a look. “You really do like lizardfolk, huh?”

With a wry grin, you shook your head and said, “I really do just like you.”

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#exophilia #lizardfolk #lizard man #lizard monster #reptile monster #male monster #male monster x female reader #female reader #lemon

1K notes · View notes

verosims · 4 years

Text

Get to know the simmer

tagged by @bunsim, thank you! :3

Your name: Caitlin

Languages you speak: English and semi-fluent Japanese

Are you a mermaid?: Maybe... I like mermaids, but I don’t think I’d want to be one

Your play style: At the moment it’s maxi’s match for TS2 and TS4, but I like alpha for TS3. I enjoy all styles and experiment a lot. I think I’ve finally settled on a style for TS4 that I like.

Your Simself picture:

Uhhh I don’t have a simself, at least not anymore. The last time I made one was in TS2 12+ years ago.

Stories or gameplay, builds, lookbooks, edits or CC: For me it’s definitely gameplay + building/decorating. I’m crap at screenshots and editing so that rules out pretty much everything else lol. Maybe one day I’d like to do stories since writing is a hobby of mine, buuut I’m not sure how that would translate into sims storytelling.

Your favourite age state: Depends 100% on the game, but I really love toddlers and children... just not in TS4. Toddlers are fun, but kids are so boring because there’s not much to do. :/

Your favourite season: AUTUMN. I love winter IRL, but I feel like autumn is a nice balance between summer and winter in game. I love the seasonal colours and it just feels so cozy.

Your favourite holiday: Christmas! I’m admittedly get very much into it, love decorating the tree, making a yummy meal, just being with family, etc. For sims... I guess birthdays since I get very attached to my sims and seeing them grow up is always sweet. :’)

How was your day?: Eh. Can’t complain but I’m in a bit of a slump and not feeling very creative at the moment. Also very burnt out from playing World of Warcraft because there’s too much I need to keep on top of (and I just kinda want to play other games but I can’t ;_;)

Your favourite career: Medicine. I have multiple sims in medicine so... it’s always been the career that sticks out to me and one I’ve always enjoyed. Imagine my disappointment when TS4 released without it lol.

Your favourite aspiration: Family/Knowledge! Hard tie. I used to ALWAYS pick family when I was younger, because it was the ‘easiest’ aspiration for me to play when I loved doing legacies. However knowledge is my fav with all the expansions because of the supernatural stuff. ;)

Your favourite EP, GP and SP:

Sims 1 - MAKIN’ MAGIC. Hands down. Best expansion. The amount of time I’d spend writing down spells and grinding for magical ingredients... especially that kid charm that allowed children to age up (that was practically a MUST) it was just so much fun.

Sims 2 - Apartment Life. For the solid reason that you can create mini-neighbourhoods by having an apartment lot and it brings some realism to the game. But honestly, all TS2 expansions are 10/10. Love them all.

Sims 3 - Love supernatural. Not everyone’s favourite, but I really enjoy playing supernaturals and this expansion just gave me what I needed. I really enjoyed fairies in particular. Hated the zombies tho. Sad they didn’t really get a proper occult state.

Sims 4 - Honestly, all of them are very mediocre and I don’t have a favourite. :/

How old is your simblr?: I have no idea. I started my tumblr when it was still in beta, so however long ago that was. It would have been before ‘simblr’ was a thing and people were still on forums, because I only made a simblr as a place to post gameplay pics for myself since it was private for so long.

Have you WooHooed?: I’m ace so hell no lol.

Your favourite skill: I don’t know why but painting stands out to me. :3

The size of your mods folder:

Oh boy.

TS2 - 9.82gb

TS3 - 14.2gb

TS4 - 28.8gb (lmfao)

Your 3 favourite mods: Any mods that enable more realistic gameplay, like romance, more bills, puberty, etc. Just adds more flavor to the game. :)

Your interests (other than Sims): Video games, writing and reading. I love anime and donghua and I hoard collect figurines and merch. I also have a rattery that takes up a lot of my time. I love my rats a lot. :3

Your favourite Sim (picture if possible):

I have a lot of favs, but I guess the Specht siblings since they were the family I primarily played in TS2 and I’ve recreated them in all the Sims games. :)

Priscilla.

Gertrude.

Jasper.

Sethos.

Aurora.

Sorry for the stupidly big portraits.

Which Sims games have you played (including mobile games)?: Sims 1, Sims 2, Sims 3, Sims 4, Sims 1 & 2 on PS2, Sims 2 Castaway, Sims 2 Life Stories, Sims 2 Castaway on PSP and MySims on Nintendo. Also played a Sim mobile game at one point but I can’t remember what it was?

Propose a crazy scheme: EA actually giving a shit about their game lol. The 20th anniversary speaks for itself.

Best part of simblr: Just that it’s still so active across ALL games and people still make CC and mods and in general, people are so welcoming and nice. Just seeing the community together is so great and I love being able to like/reblog something without commenting because I’m extremely shy and introverted. That’s something I struggled with on forums. :(

Worst part of simblr: People who think it’s a popularity contest. I mean yeah, it’s nice to get notes but I’ve always just posted my gameplay for myself. I can’t help but roll my eyes whenever I see people who get on average 20+ notes complain about not getting notes lol. I think that’s died down a bit but I still see it happen and I just have to wonder if people are here for sims or if they’re here for internet clout.

What other games you play?: World of Warcraft, Pokemon, Overwatch, Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, 7 Days to Die, My Time at Portia, Zelda... a lot of games but those are the main ones. :)

Other websites or accounts (Origin, Twitter, etc.): I don’t really use social media much.

Are you single?: Yep

I’ll tag @moo-re, @polk-la-dots, @teekalu, @valpre, @katmk36 and @crescendemon if you’d like to do this. Sorry if you’ve already been tagged!

#wheee

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

nobody knows where we might end up, chapter four (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr)

“Dr. Cain told Dr. Miller who told Dr. Edwards who told me that she saw you two practically ready to bite each other’s heads off in the hallway a few days ago.” Dr. O’Hara ends her statement with a bite of her salad, eyes expectant.

“Jesus, what is this, the hospital from Grey’s Anatomy? Do y’all ever actually work or just gossip here?” So maybe she’s feeling a little grumpy about it. Also because she’s not sure which time it is that Dr. O’Hara is talking about.

AN: Thank you so much for the sweet responses to this story! I love it so, so much. In this chapter, we have soft baby gays in the past, and a bit of hospital gossip in the present. Writ is the most wonderful friend and beta ever.

(then)

“Has anyone told you that you’re nuts? ‘Cause you’re nuts.”

Vanessa’s staring at Brooke’s review for the midterm, and holy shit. The colour coordination. The diagrams. It’s as if she’s going to be graded on artistic ability.

Brooke snorts at her dumbstruck face. “Honestly, it helps me to consolidate all the information, making it all pretty and organized. It’s helpful. My notes aren’t as extensive as yours, though.”

Brooke reaches out to grab Vanessa’s midterm review, a haphazard collection of handwritten notes that she’s meticulously copied again and again. Vanessa’s found a strategy that works for her, especially when it comes to information heavy subjects - rewrite, rewrite, rewrite.

Though it does make her notes look a bit chaotic. And unreadable to anyone who isn’t familiar with her handwriting.

But hey, it works for her.

“Organized chaos, is what mine is.” Her wrist aches with a phantom pain as she thumbs through the pages, remembering the strain as she wrote line after line.

Vanessa leans over the table, looks over at the diagram that Brooke is drawing of the renal system. Her coloured pencils are spread out beside her, because of course Brooke has coloured pencils to make her diagrams even more pretty.

Vanessa picks up the yellow coloured pencil, a smile playing on her lips. “Don’t forget this one when you have to colour in the pee.”

Brooke wrinkles her nose. “Ugh, when you say it like that-”

Vanessa snickers. “Nephrology is wack. I’m glad we’re both in agreement about that.”

“It is cool, though.” Vanessa can see the gears in Brooke’s brain start to turn as she traces a finger over the diagrams that she’s drawn on the page. “Like the fact that sodium is so involved? And the amount that our body retains water is totally dependent on balancing concentration levels in a substance, which is something we learned in what, grade ten? I love it.”

“You’re cute when you’re all excited over pee.” Vanessa can’t help but cackle when Brooke groans at her statement.

“I’m not excited over pee- ”

“Yes you are. Pee lover.”

“Hush.” Brooke lifts up her notes to lightly smack Vanessa’s shoulder with them, making her squeal and lean back in her chair. The action nearly makes Vanessa fall off, and when she catches herself on the edge of the table, the two of them are laughing hard enough that Vanessa’s sure that a librarian is going to come to shush them at any second.

They get back to work after Brooke goes to the bathroom (‘don’t get too excited about going pee in there’), finishing up their respective midterm reviews and quizzing each other. Vanessa checks her watch, sighs as the time for her 6 pm lecture ticks closer and closer.

“I gotta go.” Vanessa doesn’t want to. Switching to a different lecture so that she can spend more time with Brooke would be silly, right?

She tells herself that for now.

“Have fun in class. I’ll study nephrology all by my lonesome.” Brooke fake pouts up at her, and Vanessa rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“You say that as if you’re not going to have the time of your life.”

Brooke sticks her tongue out, a gesture that Vanessa returns right back at her. She pauses when she’s packed up all of her things, letting the words rush out before she loses the nerve to say them.

“Hey, if you’re still studying in the evening and don’t have dinner plans, wanna come over later? I was planning on making something in our suite kitchen. We can keep quizzing each other while making food, if you want.”

Because, yep, that’s the only reason she’s asking Brooke to hang out even more today. To study while they cook.

She’s so transparent that she can see through herself sometimes.

Brooke blinks up at her before grinning, and she’s back to her shyness from when they first started talking. “Yeah. Sure, that would be fun. We’ll be even more prepared for the midterm then.

Yep. Prepared for the midterm.

Vanessa will take it, though. Because really, school is the priority, right?

She grins at Brooke. “Perfect. I’ll text you when class is done?”

“Sounds good.” Brooke waves her phone around in her hand. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I bet you will. Now go back to learning about pee so you can quiz me about it later.”

Vanessa skips down the hallway as Brooke groans, smiling to herself. The two hours of lecture she has to get through before their dinner better fly by.

“Silky. Silky. What have I done?”

“You’ve inv-“

“I’ve invited her over to make dinner together, Silky!” Vanessa practically yelps it, vibrating with nervous energy as she dances around their suite’s kitchen, pulling ingredients that she had bought earlier in the day from the communal fridge and cupboards.

“Do you think she even likes stir fry? I just bought the stuff in the morning ‘cause it’s easy. I didn’t think I was gonna invite her for dinner. �� Vanessa punctuates the last four words with raps on the counter.

Silky munches away on her own dinner at the table, watching her as if she’s a nature documentary. “Who doesn’t like stir fry? It’s easy as shit and always tastes good.”

“What if she has some sort of weird stir fry trauma? Had food poisoning with it and now hates it more than anything in the world?“

There’s a rap on their door, then, and Vanessa looks at Silky in panic.

“Well, now you get to find out. I’m taking my dinner to our room.” With that, Silky takes her plate, shutting the door behind her.

She can do this. It’s only another studying session, this time with food involved. She opens the door to the suite, finds a wide eyed Brooke behind it.

“Hey, I brought two bite brownies for dessert? I wasn’t sure if you liked chocolate or not, but two bite brownies are always good, and they were in the campus store, and-”

Vanessa can’t help but melt as Brooke cuts herself off, drawing in a breath. Did she really have anything to worry about?

“Sorry.” Brooke looks at her sheepishly, taking a step into the suite when Vanessa holds the door open more to let her in.

“For what?” Vanessa grins at her. “You like stir fry?”

They work together as a team, chopping the vegetables and making the noodles like a well oiled machine while tossing questions from the nephrology unit back and forth at one another.

“True or false,” Brooke starts as she drains the noodles, “Renin secretion is influenced by potassium.”

“False.” Vanessa points the spatula at Brooke. “Sodium influences it. Low sodium means that more is released. ”

“Perfect.” Brooke grins at her, bringing the noodles over so that Vanessa can pour the stir fry mix on top. “You’ve been killing all these questions.”

“So have you. I feel pretty good about this unit.” Vanessa sticks her hand out for a high five, one that Brooke returns. “What do you say we take a studying break and eat?”

They curl up on the couch, and Vanessa barely has a chance to bring a bite to her lips before Brooke exclaims loud enough to be heard by the rest of the floor. “Vanessa, this is so good!”

“Yeah?” Her answer is muffled by her bite but she’s thrilled nonetheless, feeling like she wants to get up and dance around. It’s a feeling that only increases when Brooke nods.

“Yeah. I’m definitely gonna need seconds. Maybe thirds? Kind of want to sneak all this back to my room with me. Who knows?”

Vanessa grins. “No need for that, B. You can always come back and we can make it again.”

Brooke points her fork at her. “I’m going to take you up on it.”

“Why else do you think I offered?” She knows that her grin in Brooke’s direction is stupidly happy, solely for the fact that Brooke is reflecting the same facial expression back at her.

Vanessa likes her. A lot. More than just in class, more than when they just study together.

Not that it’s a big deal.

Brooke nudges her side with her elbow. “We spend so much time talking about school and class-”

“-and currently pee, thanks to the nephrology unit-”

Brooke snorts. “-and currently pee. As I was saying, we barely have the chance to talk about anything else, it’s so rare. So, I want to know you more. Tell me something.”

“Like what? That’s an open ended question.” What does Brooke even want to know?

Brooke shrugs. “I don’t know. Tell me more about your family, maybe?”

Vanessa leans forward in her spot, taking a sip of her drink before she speaks. “Okay. Well, it’s me and my mom and my older brother. And my abuela. We make a nice little unit.” She loves her family, really does. Misses them like crazy while she’s at school, especially her mom's cooking, which she appreciates now more than ever after having being made to cook for herself.

“That sounds nice. Are you all close?” Brooke leans her cheek on her hand, listening intently, and her focus makes Vanessa flush under her gaze a bit.

“Yeah. Real close. My mom’s always been supportive, y’know? Through everything. Gotten a couple of ass whoopings along the way, but they’ve always been deserved. I was a demon child.” Vanessa thinks back to herself as a kid, giving her mom more stress than she deserved at the time, acting out.

“But we’re closer now. Which is nice.” Vanessa shrugs, smiling a little. She needs to call her mom soon, catch up with her. “Being away at school makes us appreciate each other more.”

Brooke smiles back. “She sounds like a lovely mom.”

“She is.” Vanessa nudges her. “What about you, what’s your family like?”

Brooke shrugs. “They’re okay. I like being away at school, if that tells you anything.”

Vanessa raises an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

Brooke shifts in her chair, trying to explain. “No, not bad, per se. Just…stressful? Wound up?”

“That’s not easy, though.” Vanessa’s glad that her mom isn’t like that. She wants to do the best she can, make her happy, but her mom never acts as if she’s anything but proud of her.

“No. It isn’t.” Brooke fiddles with the couch cushion beside her. “They’re just always expecting perfection on my end, y’know? And I’m trying to give it to them. I want to. I should be able to.”

Now that makes a lot of sense. It explains Brooke’s need to do the absolute best, her panic that sets in when she feels like she hasn’t studied enough. The way Brooke calms down during their study sessions when she starts to understand things better.

“You can’t, though. No one can. No one’s perfect.” Vanessa has to resist an urge to grab Brooke’s hand, rub her thumb in little circles over her palm. “You can only do the best you can.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Brooke doesn’t look too convinced.

“If everyone was perfect, we’d all be boring as shit. Nothing fun to make us all different. We wouldn’t have anything to still work towards, either.” Vanessa pulls her feet up on the couch, scooching closer to Brooke. “You work your ass off and it already shows. I’m sure they can see that.”

Brooke bites her lip. “I hope so.”

“If not, I see it. Everyone else here sees it. You’re amazing.” The words tumble from Vanessa’s mouth before she can stop them, making her want to clap a hand over her mouth.

Way to make her feelings known. She’s probably gonna scare Brooke off.

She wants to take the words back, apologize for overstepping, but Brooke’s smile is soft on her face. “You’re the amazing one, helping me study and feeding me and being more than amazing company.”

“I’m glad I sat beside you during our first class. Not that I had a choice.” Vanessa thinks back to their first lecture, where she had come in late and it had been plenty embarrassing.

“All I remember from that class is how much your leg was shaking for most of it.” Brooke looks at her with a grin. “Thank goodness you don’t do that all the time.”

“I was nervous! It was the first class! Plus, I was sitting beside you and you looked really intimidating.” It’s true. Brooke looked mean at first glance.

Brooke looks at her in surprise. “Really?”

Vanessa scoffs. “Please. As if you didn’t know that already. You were glaring at me the whole time.”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry.” Brooke’s cheeks are pink. “In my defense…I was nervous too?”

Vanessa snorts. “Sure, whatever. It’s all good. Your tune changed real fast as soon as I opened my mouth to talk to you, anyway.”

“How so?”

“You got all shy on me.”

Now Brooke is the one to look indignant, eyebrows raised to contradict her statement. “I did not.”

Vanessa snickers. “Yes you did. All stuttering on your words and shit.” As if Brooke doesn’t make her stumble on her own words, too.

“That is completely false and you know it.”

Vanessa is about to retort, words on her tongue about how she’s nothing but truthful, but then Brooke is tickling her sides, making her squirm on the couch.

“Playing dirty!” Vanessa sticks her hands out to tickle Brooke back, give her a taste of her own medicine, but Brooke doesn’t even flinch under her touch.

“Wait.” Vanessa pauses, narrowing her eyes. “You’re not ticklish?”

“Nope.” Brooke pops the ‘p’ at the end of the word, with a grin at Vanessa that is way too smug.

“Unfair!”

Brooke giggles at her dramatics and it spurs Vanessa on further, flopping herself lower onto the couch.

“Unbelievable. Not even ticklish.”

“But you are. And it’s a fact that I will absolutely use to my advantage.” Brooke looks too happy, too thrilled about the turn of events.

Vanessa fixes her with a look. She wouldn’t. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I dare what?”

“You know exactly what-” Vanessa shrieks because Brooke tickles her again, climbing on top of her as they’re both giggling.

“Mercy, mercy.” Vanessa holds a hand up and Brooke acquiesces, stopping. It’s then that Vanessa notices that Brooke is still on top of her, close enough that she can smell her shampoo, feel her hair that’s falling in front of her face and brushing against her arms.

Woah.

Brooke evidently notices at the same time, her eyes widening. She’s about to say something, maneuvering her arm so that she doesn’t fall off of Vanessa when-

“Sup, bitches?”

Vanessa groans, dropping her head against the back of the couch. Typical.

“Hi?” Brooke climbs off of Vanessa at lightning speed, straightening herself out in the couch beside her.

Silky fixes them both with a knowing grin. “Don’t mind me, grabbing a snack.”

Vanessa sighs as Brooke is back on her side of the couch, introducing herself to Silky as she fixes herself a sandwich.

Moment gone.

(now)

Vanessa pulls off her gloves, gown, and mask, tossing them into the waste disposal before washing her hands. She grins as Dr. Michaels comes up behind her, smile of approval clear on the woman’s face.

“Nice job, Dr. Mateo. Off to a great start.”

Her first surgery at her new job? Successfully completed. Sure, it had been a simple ablation procedure, but Vanessa feels great.

She’s been hired here as the cardiothoracic head for a reason. She’s gonna show everyone that the chief made the right decision.

“Thanks. You were great to work with in there. That ablation was smooth.”

“You’re damn right about that.” Dr. Michaels holds out a fist, and Vanessa bumps it right back.

Dr. Michaels pulls off her scrub cap, holding the door open for Vanessa to go through. “Lunch?”

“Absolutely.”

They grab a table in the cafeteria, joined by Dr. O’Hara and another doctor that she’s never met who looks like she should still be doing her undergrad degree. Vanessa sticks out a hand to introduce herself.

The woman shakes it. “Dr. St. Clair. Cardiothoracic resident.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “You’re a resident? I swear I thought you were-”

“An intern?” Dr. St. Clair laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah. I get that a lot. Looking young as a doctor isn’t the most helpful in getting patients to respect you.”

“So,” Dr. O’Hara’s voice is conspiratorial as she takes out her lunch, “what’s the gossip on you and Dr. Hytes?”

Vanessa nearly chokes on her sandwich. “What do you mean?” It’s interspersed with coughs, prompting Dr. Michaels to pat her on the back.

She and Dr. Hytes have fallen into a routine of sorts for their joint consult on the upcoming surgery. Vanessa feels like she’s defending her fucking thesis from the way that Dr. Hytes continues to question her abilities concerning the procedure. It’s absolutely infuriating, and lead to many shouting matches in the conference rooms.

The Brooke she remembers from undergrad would never have been like this. Disrespecting her at every turn, acting like a fucking bitch. Acting like she’s better than everyone else. But Vanessa knows her, and Dr. Hytes is not. Vanessa has never wanted to put her in her place more.

But she’s also just started. She doesn’t want to look unprofessional and get fired before she can make any leeway as an attending surgeon.

Besides, if she gets fired, it means that Dr. Hytes wins.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dr. Michaels and Dr. O’Hara look like a buddy cop duo, resting their elbows on the table, while Dr. St. Clair watches attentively.

“She just rubs me the wrong way, that’s all.” No way is Vanessa going to bring their history - ancient history, at that - up to her coworkers. No one else’s business.

Dr. Michaels shoots a conspiratorial look at Dr. O’Hara. “Seems like a lot of emotion for just rubbing someone the wrong way.”

Vanessa shrugs. “Maybe I’m just an emotional person.” It’s not a lie, not really.

“Not only from you,” Dr. O’Hara lowers her voice, “From her, too.”

“Yeah?” Vanessa raises an eyebrow.

“Mhm.” Dr. O’Hara nods at her. “I’ve seen that woman have maybe five emotions max while working here. She’s usually unflappable. Since you’ve gotten here, though? The woman is pissed.”

Vanessa can’t help the satisfied smile that settles on her face. “Good.”

Let Dr. Hytes be pissed. Especially since she’s been causing Vanessa so much grief. It’s what she deserves to feel.

“See!” Dr. O’Hara points at her. “There’s something you’re not telling us, and I know it. We’re gonna find out.”

Vanessa snorts, taking another bite of her sandwich. “Good luck with that.”

“Dr. West, you wanted to see me?”

“Come in.” Dr. West’s voice is warm when Vanessa knocks on her office door, though it does little to assuage the way her heart feels like it’s sinking in her chest.

She doesn’t know why the chief of surgery has called her in for a meeting, though has a sneaking suspicion it’s about a certain neurosurgeon attending. Maybe Dr. West has had it and wants to get rid of her - Vanessa wouldn’t be surprised if Dr. Hytes has complained about her. The bitch.

“I wanted to touch base with you about your first few weeks here, see that everything is going away.” Dr. West is smiling at her, and doesn’t look too mad - perhaps a good sign?

“It’s been great so far. Everyone is incredibly welcoming.” Not a lie, for the most part - not that she’s going to bring up Dr. Hytes, not when her and Dr. West seem like they’re friendly with each other.

“That’s good to hear.” Dr. West is looking at Vanessa with an expression she can’t quite decipher, and it makes her want to squirm in her seat. She can’t tell how much the chief actually knows.

Vanessa’s pretty sure that Dr. West hadn’t been in the attending locker room in the morning. when Dr. Hytes had interrupted her conversation with Dr. Miller about ICU stay lengths at her previous hospital, muttering that it seemed to be counterproductive for patient health. So maybe Vanessa had to give Dr. Hytes a piece of her mind - so what if such arguments are becoming a daily occurrence? As long as they’re not disrupting patient care, Vanessa’s going to fight back every time.

Vanessa’s not one to take things lying down. She doesn’t care if the other doctors in this hospital are. Dr. Hytes doesn’t scare her. Sure, the way her eyes narrow in her direction and the way she stares down at her make her heart feel like it’s beating a little faster sometimes - but it’s just adrenaline.

“So.” Dr. West leans forward in her seat, opening up her clipboard. “A change I implemented here a few years back when I became chief was more opportunities for interdisciplinary collaboration. More work with doctors outside our immediate disciplines - to build more connections between everyone despite all of our differences and interests.”

“Okay.” Vanessa nods, not sure where Dr. West is going.

“I understand that you already have a joint surgery coming up with Dr. Hytes soon.” Dr. West looks up from her clipboard, holding Vanessa’s gaze for a little too long.

She tries her best to keep her face neutral. “That’s right.”

“How has the preparation for the case been going so far?”

Vanessa channels her best poker face. “It’s been alright, thank you. Dr. Hytes is incredibly smart.” Not a lie.

“I’m glad you think so.” Dr. West goes back to her notes, pushing her glasses up on her nose with her index finger. “One initiative I’ve started with new surgery hires is having them shadow surgeries in a few other disciplines. Have the opportunity to see how others do things, ask questions about unfamiliar procedures, participate in interdisciplinary information sharing.”

“I see.”

“I know you’ve been here for a few weeks and seem to be settling in well. Would this still be something that you’d be interested in?”

From the way that Dr. West is looking at her, she’s not sure if she has a choice in her answer. “It would be pretty educational to shadow in some other disciplines. Haven’t done that since I was a resident.”

Vanessa isn’t lying, per se. It would be pretty cool. It’s just that she already as an idea of who Dr. West wants her to shadow for neuro already-

“I think it would be a great idea for you to shadow Dr. Hytes for one of her procedures, especially before your joint one in a few weeks. You can get to know her a bit more. We can start with that.”

Fuck.

“The surgery is to remove an arteriovenous malformation. Do you happen to know what that is, or do you need a refresher?” Dr. Hytes sneers it at her as she braids her hair back (still as blonde, still as long as it used to be) and Vanessa wants to smack the smug look off of her face.

“I’ve taken neuro, Dr. Hytes, my memory isn’t that shit.” Vanessa scoffs. Of course Dr. Hytes is on her high horse already.

Vanessa is not looking forward to shadowing her in the least. She doesn’t care how she operates, she doesn’t give a shit over how people fawn over her. Hell, if it weren’t for their joint surgery coming up, she probably would have found a way to decline Dr. West.

But at the same time…she needs intel. Needs to know what to expect before they have to step into an operating room as colleagues, so that it doesn’t blow up in their faces.

Doesn’t mean she has to be happy about it.

“If you say so. Keep out of my way in there. This is my surgery, and I’d like to keep it running as smooth as the rest of the ones I do.” Vanessa rolls her eyes at Dr. Hytes’ words. So damn cocky.

“I want to be here as little as you do. As if I’d want to be up in your face during this. Chill.” She pulls on her scrub cap, one with little dogs all over it that she couldn’t resist buying as a resident. It remains her favourite.

“Whatever. Just don’t get in my way.” The words are cold as Dr. Hytes pulls on her own scrub cap, and Vanessa has to suppress a groan because of course .

Dr. Hytes’ scrub cap has little cats all over it. Typical.

“Fine.” So what if Vanessa’s a bit haughty when she says it? “As long as you don’t get in mine.”

The growl that emanates from Dr. Hytes in response is enough to make her smirk more than she should.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #hospital au #holtzmanns #nobody knows where we might end up

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merryfortune · 5 years

Text

Day 3: Social Interactionism

Hugsaku 2019

20th of September | Day 3: Three Things | Favourite Food | Victory Snuggles! | “Oh no I seem to have accidentally fallen on top of you and now am too lazy to move. What a tragedy.”

Ship: Moonlightshipping | Miyu/Yusaku

Word Count: 1,901

Tags: Canon Divergent, Fluff and Angst

Synopsis: Yusaku visits Miyu at the hospital where she proceeds to bully him.

Aoi was the one who gave him this idea. She put it in his head in passing, no different to how she passed her coins along to pay for her meal and drink at Cage Nagi. However, Yusaku didn’t like the idea, but it was probably a good one: he ought to go and visit Miyu. He didn’t run it past Takeru or Kusanagi, but he was sure that they would both agree that it was in everyone’s best interest.

It was probably important for them both to talk; there was a good chance that this was going to be her first-time meeting someone who had gone through the traumatic event as her. Ergo, it would probably be good for them both. Yusaku’s worldview could expand and maybe, Miyu would get some closure. Who knows? Yusaku, having met Spectre, was no longer so confident in what he thought would be universal truths of pain and hurting.

Besides, Yusaku was a little bit curious about what she would be like. Miyu was Aoi’s childhood best friend and Originator to Aqua. She was bound to be interesting but as he wasn’t a naturally social person, that did unsettle him to wander outside of his comfort zone. Even if it was with good intentions.

So, Yusaku found himself, after his shift at Café Nagi, at the Den City Hospital.

It had been a while since Aoi’s hospitalisation; that was the last time that he had visited it. Before that, he had come with Kusanagi to visit Jin. That had been an experience, to say the least but given that Miyu wasn’t nigh catatonic, he doubted that he had to worry about the same things that he had to worry about when it came to meeting Jin.

Getting to her room was far easier than Yusaku thought. He played a very awkward, and honestly rather unconvincing, “I’m a friend of the patient’s” card and he got in straight away. The receptionist gave him a number and a location then Yusaku was free to go find said location which was simple enough.

Yusaku was good with things like numbers and patterns so he picked up on the hospital’s internal system quite easily. Not to mention, he did have a little bit of past experience behind him but soon enough, he found himself outside of a room – a private – room labelled Sugisaki Miyu. He took a breath and he felt all the more aware that he was a stranger to this girl – and a strange stranger at that. He took another breath and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

The voice which promptly greeted him was blithe and chirpy. He swallowed. “I’m Fujiki Yusaku. We don’t know each other but we have something in common. A few things in common. I’m a friend of Zaizen Aoi, I believe she visited an hour or two earlier…?”

His words were uncertain. He felt awful calling himself a friend of Aoi’s, but he felt even more awful hinting towards the Lost Incident to use to cement the connection, the very close connection, in his opinion, between himself and Miyu. He waited for Miyu’s reply, breathing heavily and with trembling hands.

The door soon opened. Curious, blinking eyes opened up to him; they were slate grey yet so cheerful, curious too.

“You know Aoi-chan?” she asked.

“I’m her classmate.” Yusaku said. “I’m also her ally; she is Blue Angel, after all. And I’m Playmaker.”

Miyu gasped. “Well then, we have much to talk about, don’t we?”

She grabbed Yusaku from behind the door which violently flung back and hit the wall. She clutched onto him and carted him inside all whilst he protested. She pushed him onto the bed and then, nearly skipping, returned to the doorway so she could close it – and lock it.

Yusaku trembled on the bed. Very interesting. Yep, Miyu was a very interesting girl, alright. Just like his feared.

She flounced back to him and sat on the bed. It was stiff yet she got it to bounce with her weight regardless. Now, they were sitting knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder. She leaned into him with great curiosity but then it failed. The energy she built up to came to a screeching halt. She hesitated but soon broke out of whatever shell had briefly stopped her.

She hugged him. She nuzzled against his shoulders and squeezed him tight. Yusaku grunted.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Victory snuggles.” she chirruped. “You won! Congratulations! That’s fantastic; winning is the best!” Her voice was hyper, but it dulled, turned sombre. “Whenever I won, all I wanted was a big old hug from my Mother or from Aoi-chan. Weren’t you the same…?”

Miyu lifted her head and Yusaku stared down at her eyes. They were watery. Even though she was suffocating him, she let him pull back his arm. He patted the top of her head.

“No, not really.” he told her. “The Incident erased all my memories prior to entering that room. I could only hug myself… I couldn’t even daydream of being hugged by someone I loved.”

“That’s awful…” Miyu mumbled.

She hugged him tighter still. Yusaku fumbled with a smile. He kept patting the top of her head, stroking her hair. It was really silky. Girls – Miyu – had pretty hair, he observed. Hers was such a nice and rich chestnut colour. He really liked it.

“For me, during the Incident and then afterwards, I felt as though time had stopped. And only recently, do I feel like time has started again… do you know what I mean?” he asked, misery in his voice.

Miyu hummed and Yusaku felt it in his skin and bones.

“Yeah, I think so.” Miyu murmuring; sinking in on herself. “I think our circumstances were really different. I’m an upper middle-class brat. I have loving parents… good friends… good counsellors and doctors. My friends, the ones who don’t know, always say I’m one of those idiots who don’t get sick. I’m stupidly resilient, apparently. I don’t always feel like it, but I just bounce back from things. Even the Incident. I’d always get up. To reunite with Aoi-chan, that’s all I thought. I to tell her truth… That’s all I wanted. And then I got a taste for victory and I have one hell of a competitive streak so that just dosed me up some more. I didn’t enjoy it by any stretch of the imagination, but I hanker for something similar to it. The high stakes, the danger: it’s my pride. If I could conqueror that – and I did – then I can do anything. Ask anyone at my high school, I’m the queen of every sport you can imagine. And I say that with merit, too. Do you know what I mean?”

Yusaku was silent as he postulated on Miyu’s perspective. He wasn’t certain that he knew what she meant. He had always slunk into the shadows, not wanting to stand out. She smiled enigmatically though but such a smile soon faded. Miyu then took a deep breath and she finally let him go. She straightened up her back only to keep resting on him. Yusaku was endeared but he knew it was only because this was their first encounter. She seemed like she was going to be an annoying girl – annoying person – to be around.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Yusaku.” Miyu said. “Can I call you Yusaku? Or would you prefer Playmaker-sama? Playmaker… chan? Oh, oh! I know! Yu-chan. You can be Yu-chan.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me any of those things but I somehow suspect that you won’t listen to me if I protest it.” Yusaku said.

Miyu giggled. “Too true, Yu-chan.”

“I take it that Aoi informed you of the past few months…?” Yusaku asked.

“Yeah. She told me the truth about the Tower of Hanoi… I would never have imagined that thingy was related to the Incident.” Miyu said. “She told me about Aqua… My blue fairy. I remember her. I remember Aqua. I – I spent so long screaming and in pain during my coma, but it stopped for just a few moments and I remember her. She was small and tiny and blue… I miss her.”

“I miss her too. Ai misses her a lot… and I miss Ai. He keeps vanishing… I don’t think he’s coming back this time. He needs some space.”

“The Dark… Ignis, yes?” Miyu said. “And Aqua is the Water Ignis.”

“Correct.”

Miyu quietened after that. She took a simpering breath and Yusaku, tentative, put his arm around her.

“I wish I could have been there.” she confessed. “I was there… Ten years ago. My duelling… and all that entails helped to make Aqua. I wish I could have been with you as well. Maybe things could have been different. No, they would have been different.”

“You’re a good Duellist then, I take it?” Yusaku asked and he felt as though he had held onto Miyu for long enough.

He could feel her scent permeate onto his day clothes. She smelt nice though; of shampoo and conditioner, sickly sweet, and brought from home but also of the general air of the hospital. Regardless, he retreated awkwardly. She didn’t mind. She held a ditsy smile on her face.

“Only the best in my high school.” she said.

“That’s good to hear.” Yusaku said. “Well, if trouble brews. Then who knows? We might come back and call on you, if your feeling well enough.”

“You’re a good guy, Yu-chan. And here I thought, you would be an asshole because of how Aoi-chan talked about you.” Miyu said with a shit-eating grin.

Yusaku stiffened. “I see.” He took a breath. “Well, I might go… I think I’ve achieved all I can here.”

“Yeah, and visiting hours’ll be over soon as well.” Miyu hummed.

Yusaku got up. Miyu giggled to herself and struck her hand on his thigh. A tingle jolted up through his spine and he could have sworn that he felt the skin burn beneath the denim of his jeans.

He robotically turned to Miyu, proud as punch regarding her sexual harassment of him, “Why?!” he asked, breathy.

“Why not?” she laughed. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Yu-chan.”

“It was good to meet you as well, Sugisaki-san.” Yusaku said.

Miyu pouted. “You can call me Miyu-Miyu, if you like or anything else. Don’t be so formal, it’s boring.”

Yusaku took a few more steps towards the door and he turned back to her, he sighed. “I’ll think about it… Miyu.”

“That’s better than nothing.” she shrugged. “Have a good afternoon then. Let’s keep in touch; TTYL! Oh! And the next time we meet, I’ll come up with a cool and funky codename, maybe you’ll take to calling me that, Playmaker-chan.”

Yusaku cringed. Yes, it was undeniable at this point. Sugisaki Miyu was an interesting girl. But, thinks he knows why Aoi was so charmed to her. She was fun and playful; it was a nice pace, as different and off kilter, as it was. And no wonder Aqua was so responsible and mothering, the girl was a brat who needed all the scolding she could get. Maybe he could get through to her and teach her some manners…

He pondered the thought as he wandered off down through the busy halls of the hospital.

#hugsaku2019 #hugsaku 2019 #moonlightshipping #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #yusaku fujiki #fujiki yusaku #miyu sugisaki #sugisaki miyu #writing tag #there's been... a lot of moonlight in this event.... i love it

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daisymondays · 6 years

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Hi I’m not sure if you are still doing prompts, but if you are can I get some Parseltounge!Harry and French!Draco? I love your writing. Thank you, you’re the best!

HELLO @bukcybarsne i am so sorry this prompt took so long and i am even more sorry for this ridiculousness and its length, but i hope you enjoy it anyway. Thankyou to @synonym-for-life for the idea I couldn’t turn down

this is unbetaed

“You know Parsel Tongue is universal, right Malfoy?” Harry said, leaning back on the sofa and watching as Malfoy showed his new snake off to the rest of the common room. Harry was pretty sure there was an innuendo in there somewhere.

Malfoy sniffed, glaring over at Harry. Harry threw him a crooked grin, liking the way Malfoy’s cheeks went red — they had been dancing around each other for weeks now. “No, it is not. This is a French snake! I got her when I went to visit my mother in Nice over Easter,” Malfoy said, turning to the snake and stroking its head, murmuring softly in French to it.

“Tell me Malfoy isn’t speaking to that fucking snake again,” Ron muttered from beside Harry. “He’s lost the bloody plot entirely.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he was the one who had lost plot as he shifted on the sofa. Honestly, it wasn’t his fault but Malfoy speaking French was really fucking hot. Like really hot. Harry just wished Malfoy wasn’t speaking French to a snake because Ron was right in that case — Malfoy did look like a twat.

“Your snake doesn’t speak French,” Harry said, leaning forward and ignoring Ron’s groan for him to stop engaging Malfoy in conversation.

Malfoy stopped murmuring to his snake in French and glowered at Harry. “And how exactly do you know that?”

“Because I can speak to snakes?” Harry shrugged. “I’ve never once had to pause and ask the snake if it could please speak English Parsel Tongue.”

“Well, maybe you just haven’t met any cultured snakes because I can assure you she speaks French. Tu comprends français, n'est-ce pas ma pettite chouette?” Malfoy drawled, letting the little green snake curl around his hand. The snake stuck it’s tongue out at Malfoy, and Malfoy smiled back. The entire thing was stupidly sweet looking.

“You named your snake Chouette?” Harry said, his tongue utterly butchering the world that Malfoy had made sound so elegant. “Like Chou for short?”

Malfoy stopped smiling at Chou and turned back to glaring at Harry. “I did not call her Chou! That means cabbage you fucking prat!”

“You called your snake Cabbage?” Harry said, grinning as Malfoy’s cheeks flushed more. “Hey Cabbage!” Harry said, wiggling his fingers at the snake and laughing.

Ron snorted from beside him. “Stop flirting with Malfoy’s snake.”

“I’m not flirting with Malfoy’s snake,” Harry said before realising how that sounded, as the rest of the common room burst out laughing. Harry wondered if Cabbage could finish off what the Batalisc had started all those years ago and just kill him.

He ducked his head, glancing up through his lashes at Malfoy whose cheeks had managed to get even darker. Harry wondered if Malfoy blushed everywhere.

“Potter is not flirting with my snake,” Malfoy said primly.

“You wish he was,” Zabini drawled, but Malfoy carried on as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Insulting someone is not flirting.”

Harry laughed because Malfoy was wrong there. Harry was pretty sure they had been flirting for the last month or so, and there had certainly been a lot of insulting each other.

“Look,” Malfoy continued, scowling at them all. “None of this matters because I was right and my snake speaks French.”

Harry bit his lip to stop himself laughing, he couldn’t unhear the innuendo now.

“Draco and his magical talking snake,” Zabini mused. “You must teach me how to do it.”

“Oh fuck off,” Malfoy muttered, as Cabbage slid up his arm and rested around his neck, her tiny eyes watching the common room. Malfoy finally caught Harry’s gaze again and threw his arms up in the air. Cabbage wobbled and licked his face in her irritation. “Come on then Potter, speak to Adalene and she can prove to you she speaks French!”

Harry glanced around the common room before climbing off the sofa with a sigh, and trudging over to Malfoy and settled on his knees in front of him. “Hey Cabbage,” he said dutifully — Harry was never calling her anything but Cabbage.

“In Parsel Tongue, you git,” Malfoy said, and Harry finally glanced up and met Malfoy’s eyes, and realised exactly what fucking position he was in. Here he was in the middle of the fucking common room, surrounded by his peers, on his knees in front of Draco fucking Malfoy. Malfoy gazed down at Harry, and Harry didn’t miss the way he licked his lips.

Harry swallowed, before gently hissing. “Hey Cabbage.”

“Must you call me that?” Cabbage replied, and Harry laughed because she still spoke Parsel Tongue but she had a French accent. Malfoy had kind of been right.

“What would you rather I call you?” Harry asked. “Malfoy called you Adalane.”

Cabbage gazed at him, sliding down Malfoy. Harry’s eyes tracked the movement, watching Malfoy’s Adams-apple bob, and the sharp line of his collar bone that Harry could make out from his undone shirt. “I prefer Cabbage, to that crap.”

Harry laughed again.

“What’s it saying?” Ron asked.

Harry met Malfoy’s eyes and grinned — Malfoy was staring at him wide-eyed, and was shifting in a manner that told Harry that Malfoy liked hearing Harry use Parsel Tongue — Malfoy liked it a lot. “She said she liked being called Cabbage.”

“No she didn’t,” Malfoy said, but it came out breathless.

“He likes you,” Cabbage continued. “The boy with the green eyes, he talks about you all the time. Your eyes are the same colour as my skin, you see.”

Harry’s grin somehow managed to grow even wider. “He likes me?”

Cabbage nodded. “Like him back. Shut him up.”

“What’s she saying?” Malfoy said, his eyes seemingly unable to look at Harry.

“She said—” Harry started before he was cut off.

“Harry, mate, it’s still creepy as fuck when you do that,” Ron said from Harry and the moment was over as everyone laughed. Harry forced himself to look away from Malfoy, he flipped Ron off and made his excuses heading back to his room.

It wasn’t long before Malfoy barged into Harry’s room — Cabageless.

“What did she say to you, Potter?” Malfoy said, storming over to where Harry was sat. Harry stood to meet him and raising his eyebrows as Malfoy jabbed a finger into his chest. “Because she’s only a snake, and she doesn’t know anything!”

“She said you like me,” Harry said, watching as Malfoy froze. “She said you talk about me all the time,” Harry smirked, stepping closer to Malfoy. “She told me I should like you back, as it would shut you up.”

Malfoy’s jaw dropped, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “And do you?”

“Do I want?”

“Do you like me, you blithering—”

Harry decided he didn’t need to be insulted again so leaned in and kissed Malfoy silent, before pulling back. “Does that answer your—” Harry didn’t get to finish his own sentence as Malfoy lept forward reclaiming Harry’s mouth. Harry moved his hands and wrapped them around Malfoy’s body as Malfoy tangled his own hands in Harry’s hair.

There was nothing elegant about the kiss, it was messy, desperate and there were far too many teeth and too much tongue, but it was perfect. Harry had been wanting to snog Malfoy for ages, and this was better than he had ever fantasied about.

Malfoy pressed his hips forward, and Harry groaned at the feeling of Malfoy hardening against his body.

“Hey Malfoy,” Harry murmured as Malfoy pulled off and attached his rather fucking sinful mouth to Harry’s neck. Harry moaned, but he was still unable to help himself saying. “Want me to try to talk to this snake too?” He ground his hips forward.

Malfoy broke away from Harry’s neck and glared at his, his face expressionless but his lips slick and his eyes dark. “I fucking hate you.”

“Nah you don’t,” Harry laughed.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and pushed Harry down onto the bed before climbing on top of him. “You’re right, I don’t.”

#gracie writes #gracie speaks

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ladyknight1512 · 6 years

Text

I’ve seen this 5SOS ask meme floating around a few times and I don’t do ask memes but I do love me a questionnaire so I decided to just fill it out, not that anyone else will care.

1. When did you first find out about 5sos?

The first time I remember hearing one of their songs was in 2016, but they didn’t properly come onto my radar until early 2018. I know, I know. I was super late to the party.

2. How did you find out about them?

In February/March of 2018 they were guests on the BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show, which I listened to because I liked the host, even though I live on literally the other side of the world. I wasn’t familiar with the band at that point, beyond Want You Back, which had been on the radio pretty much every single day, and which I actually really liked. But hearing their interview made me want to look them up and find out more about them. And now I’m here, 8 months later, filling out a 50-question ask meme because apparently I have nothing better to do with my time.

3. What was the first song you heard by them?

She Looks So Perfect, in 2016.

4. Have you ever seen them live?

Yes, in Melbourne for the Meet You There tour. They were great and I would definitely see them again.

5. Have you ever met any of them?

Nope.

6. Who was your fave when you first started to like them? Are they still your fave now?

Ashton has been my fave from the beginning, and he still is now, but I like them all for their own reasons.

7. What is your favorite 5sos song?

Ghost of You.

8. What are your favorite lyrics?

I’ve got a jet black heart and there’s a hurricane underneath it – Jet Black Heart

9. What is your favorite music video?

I don’t really watch the videos much but I think Valentine is the most creative and visually interesting.

10. What is your favorite cover?

As in, song they’ve covered? No Roots, which they did in the BBC Radio 1 Live Lounge. I made it my ringtone I love it so much. Their cover of Stay for Spotify is fantastic too, though.

11. What is your favorite album/EP?

Youngblood.

12. What is your favorite bromance?

Probably Cashton.

13. What is your favorite livestream/twitcam/keek/interview /etc?

The Zach Sang interview they did in early 2018 is probably the one I’ve watched the most. It’s actually what turned my vague interest into proper obsession.

14. What is your favorite hair color on Michael?

Most of the colours were before my time but I am partial to his galaxy hair.

15. What is your favorite thing each of them has tweeted?

I don’t have fave tweets, but Ashton’s twitter in general is just a place of positivity and love, and I appreciate that.

16. How many of their albums/EPs do you own?

I own all three albums and various songs from the EPs, but none of the EPs in full.

17. Do you have any 5sos merch?

OMG, yes. Too much, considering I’ve only been a fan for 8 months. I think I’ve got 5 t-shirts, plus one more coming, a long-sleeve, a hoodie, the signed Youngblood litho (which I framed), three other posters (one signed – also framed) and the book. Yes, I bought the book, even though it precedes my time in the fandom by about 4 years. There might be other bits and pieces that I’ve forgotten about, but you get the gist.

18. Do you have any 5sos posters on your walls?

Yes, four. See above.

19. When they come on in the car/store/etc, what do you do?

I’ve never heard them in stores, but when they come on the radio I always cheer and get stupidly excited.

20. Who in the band do you think you’re most like and why?

Probably Michael. He likes cats, he’s a gamer, he seems more introverted than the others – all things that I definitely relate to.

21. Who do you think you’d get along with the most? What about the least?

I think Michael is either the one I’d get along with the best or the least. We’d either be too similar in a good way or a bad way.

22. If you could ask them each one question right now, what would you ask?

I’d like to ask Luke if he thinks he was too young when he got into all this. Personally I think he was, and I think we’ve seen the consequences of that, but I’d like to hear his thoughts on it.

I’d probably ask Ashton what his favourite cocktail is.

I’d probably ask Michael something gaming related.

I’m not sure what I’d ask Calum. He’s always been the one I relate to the least, so he’s a bit of an enigma to me.

23. What was you first impression of each of them?

I thought they were all generally pretty funny, but I actually thought at first that Ashton and Michael didn’t like each other. I think I just got a string of interviews and appearances where Ashton was particularly talkative and Michael was particularly quiet, and there seemed to be a lack of eye contact between them. I’ve since watched all these interviews again and I definitely see them differently and I pick up on more of the subtext now, but I was kind of confused initially.

24. How do you feel about the blonde in Calum’s hair?

Again, before my time, but I’m pretty indifferent.

25. How do you feel about the length of Ashton’s hair?

I prefer it short and I love the curls, but whatever he’s happy with is fine with me.

26. If you were trapped on a deserted island and could only bring one member with you, who would it be and why?

Probably Ashton. He seems like he’s got a good head on his shoulders, so he could potentially do something about getting us off the island, but he also likes to have a good time, so I think he could make our time there enjoyable, even as I was growing more and more dehydrated and sunburnt.

27. If you could switch everyone’s instruments, who would play what?

I love Ashton on guitar. It just does something to me. Also, that video of him on guitar when they did Teenage Dream? That was so cute? He was bouncing all over the stage, having the time of his life.

As for the others: Luke on bass, Michael on drums and I guess that leaves Calum with the other guitar.

28. Which Don’t Stop superhero would you prefer to be rescued by and why?

They all look pretty horrendous, but I think I’d laugh the least if I was in a bind and Mike-Ro-Wave showed up.

29. What is one song you really want the band to do a cover of?

I’d love them to do a country song with Ash on vocals, but that’s the most I’ve thought about it.

30. If you had 48 hours with your fave what would you guys do?

Oh god, I don’t know. It would definitely involve Ash and an acoustic guitar. I think I’d really just like him to take me to all his favourite places in LA and hang out with him and listen to him talk. I reckon 48 hours with Ashton would be the most fun and exhausting and exhilarating 48 hours of my life, but I’d be up for it.

31. If your fave were to propose to you right now, would you say yes? How would you want him to do it?

Well, it would depend on if this proposal were just out of the blue or if we’d been in some kind of serious relationship first. If the latter, then yes, probably. As for how: I feel like Ashton is the kind of person who would either go really big, super over the top with a proposal, or be really, really low key and just kind of ask at home while you’re doing something really normal and boring. Either would be fine with me.

32. If you could rename the band, what would you name them?

Luke and the Penguins? That’s literally the first thing I thought of. I’ve never thought about this before in my life. Seriously, though, I like that they seem to have embraced ‘5SOS’ as an identity, rather than just an abbreviation. ‘5 Seconds of Summer’ feels very much of its time and feels out of place in the current music world. ‘5SOS’ feels more true to who they are now.

33. What is your favorite thing about each of them?

I love the tongue thing Luke does. You know what I’m talking about.

I love Ashton’s sense of humour and his passion.

I love how Calum thinks Ashton is the funniest person alive.

I love how excited Michael gets about really nerdy things.

34. If you could change one thing about each of them what would you change?

I’d change Calum’s smoking habit, because it’s unhealthy and I worry for him, but other than that I wouldn’t change anything. They are who they are because of the choices they’ve made, good and bad.

35. What 5 words would you use to describe each of them?

Ashton: funny, passionate, driven, focused, storyteller

Luke: rockstar, vulnerable, electric, dorky, angel

Michael: adorable, quiet, genuine, caring, sweet

Calum: underrated (musically), solid, reliable, thoughtful, dedicated

36. If you could be the lead role in any 5sos music video, existing or not, what song would it be for?

Maybe Talk Fast?

37. If you could steal one thing from each of them (clothes, hats, etc) what would you take?

Ashton’s leather jacket, Luke’s black boots, Calum’s green hoodie and Michael’s necklace (that really long one he always wears).

38. If you were sharing headphones with your fave what song would you put on first?

Worry ‘Bout Nothin’ by Keith Urban.

39. Would you rather meet 4/4 but never get to see them live or see them live but never get to meet any of them?

See them live but never meet them. I’ve only been to one of their shows, but it was amazing and so fun. Plus, if I met them they’d forget about me pretty quickly because they meet fans all the time. If I can’t be special enough to remember, I’d rather have the full experience of a show than a quick hug and photo.

40. Would you rather catch Luke’s guitar pick or Ashton’s drum stick?

I’m an Ashton girl so definitely the drum stick.

41. Would you rather never be able to sing one of their songs again or never watch any of their music videos again?

Never watch their music videos. I don’t watch them much anyway, and half the fun of loving a band is getting to sing along. Honestly, one of the moments I’ve ever felt most alive was singing along to Jet Black Heart with thousands of other people at the MYT show.

42. Would you rather be brought on stage for an entire song or meet only 2 of them in public?

Probably meet 2 of them in public? I think I’d feel super awkward being on stage for an entire song. Everyone would be staring! I wouldn’t know what to do with my hands! Plus Ash would be behind the drums on stage and, therefore, unreachable. At least in public I’ve got a chance for a hug.

43. Would you rather play video games with Michael or go on a road trip with Ashton?

That’s super hard, because I’m a gamer but Ash is my fave. Hmmm… Probably road trip with Ashton, because that’s not something I would normally do anyway, and there would be plenty of time for talking and rocking out to whatever playlist he loads up.

44. Would you rather have Calum give you a tattoo or Luke give you a haircut?

I have more faith in Calum’s tattooing skills than Luke’s haircutting skills, so let’s go with the tattoo.

45. Would you rather date your fave but have the others dislike you or be friends with all of them but not be able to date/hookup with/kiss any of them?

Be friends with all of them. Definitely. I’m not sure dating them would be much fun anyway, in reality. They’d always be gone or going away. And they just seem like the kind of people you would want to be friends with.

46. Would you rather sing a duet with Luke or write a song with Calum?

Sing with Luke. More fun. Plus I’m already getting that tattoo from Calum.

47. Would you rather go to the fair with Malum or go stargazing with Lashton?

Stargazing with Lashton.

48. Would you rather touch Calum’s butt or Ashton’s biceps?

Ashton’s biceps. I am a girl who loves a nice set of arms, and Ashton’s are very nice.

49. Would you rather get high with Michael or drunk with Calum?

Drunk with Calum, but only because I’m not into taking drugs.

50. Would you rather have Luke give you his 'You Complete Mess' shirt or have Michael give you his denim jacket?

Michael’s denim jacket.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #ladyknight1512 gets personal #long post

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