#I wanted to do a nice drawing for the transformation but just

[py-dreamer]

@violetjedisylveon

Ok I honestly don't know if I'll ever finish the other WIP...

BUT

I've had this in my files for a while now, got the guts to finish it and so here it is.

Y'know that one painting in Rapunzel's tower? The one with the floating lights?

Yea so I wanted Red Son to have something like that but I thought that the prince is an inventor and while is still technically an artist so I wanted to give his piece a new format.

(art isn't necessarily a 2D format after all)

Then I remembered the wishing machine from the greatest showman.

And I thought like why don't we combine the two?

Like a stained glass wishing machine thingy!

And it makes sense cause with his firey powers and all, I imagine Red could easily melt sand if he ever got access.

So it would make sense that he'd experiment around with stained glass

AND ITS SO FREAKING PRETTY MAN LOOK AT IT

PLS MORE STAINED GLASS CHURCHES SHOULDN'T HAVE ALL THE FUN WHY ISN'T STAINED GLASS USED IN MORE DECOR ITS SUCH AN AESTHETIC!!!!

He wouldn't need a blowtorch or soldering iron cause again, he's got his hands.

I imagine his tools are quite limited in the tower so he'd make his own and for a kid who never left his tower, he's quite the craftsman I imagine!

think about it:

there are just hanging glass pictures everywhere.

You look in his bedroom and instead of the blank skylight you have a bit of a glass rook with shingles missing but replaced by stained glass pictures the prince made over the years

and we have that epic shot in the end of the movie where light streams through all the tiny windows and glass all showing the samadhi flower and Red Son realizes they're the goddamn lost prince!

Like wouldn't that just be magical?

Pay no mind to the gold ring in his hair, I genuinely don't know what its for.

I was trying to render the hair, made a part too shadowy like something was meant to be there so I just went:

"Slap a ring on it!"

I have to credit my friend (no name drops for privacy's sake) for pushing for the idea for the colorful spots of light

(ignore how it looks like circus polka dots)

during the performance I was working on, I spent like 50% of my time drawing when I wasn't needed (a lot of the time) and could just work on my projects which was really nice

And the performance was a hit!!

Gosh I still miss it so much, its only been like 4 days

I've honestly really put off this project cause I was really scared to do the stained glass but personally, I do really like how it came out!

THIS ISN'T MY AU!!!! I'M JUST MAKING FANART AND HEADCANONS IG

[icharchivist]

Thank you! ;v; And yeah, leave it Belial to need more innuendos.

...I just tried putting a link to the fic but it didn't work, so hmm. The fic is done and the title is Blessed Corruption! (And still rated M.)

I was hesitant because I really do enjoy hanging out here and talking, even if it's just lurking/liking sometimes, and didn't want to trip a landmine and lose that. Best inbox in the Skies, right here. (And not just because of the equally earnest discussions of how hot Belial is and how fascinating a character he is, though that was a huge draw. XD;)

omg hi!! thank you still for sharing this and i'm really glad you felt inspired and comfortable on there <3 Very touched by the nice words as well (a nice inbox with every facets of Belial on display, for better and for worse. mostly for worse.)

i'm at least leaving the link there if people are interested, tho i don't know when i can come to take a look. But i just hope you enjoyed yourself writing it and take care <333

[ashmcgivern]

Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these sunken eyes and learn to see All your life You were only waiting for this moment to be free

When Zeal was very young, he used to make Lilith read him a story about a blackbird that was learning to fly. While his bat wings were growing out, Zeal forced them to become feathered through a series of rituals and introspection about what it means to have fiendish heritage. In using the power of his Infernal Legacy, he transformed the wings to become feathered instead by him accepting (mostly) what he is. (Mechanically, Zeal "used up" his Infernal Legacy abilities to swap out for Feral Tiefling abilities, namely permanent wings.)

Black isn't my favorite aesthetic choice for Zeal, but it's a fantastic narrative one considering the implications of Zeal "learning to fly" in more than just the physical capacity. The wings will likely continue to transform as he pushes them to being more white, especially knowing that he CAN change himself now.

[bandtrees]

limited palette one layer drawings are so relaxing… ft kaon and the pet :]

[nerosdayinanime]

i wanna go back to this piece i never finished it bc i didnt like the shading. also it was made back when i didnt realize his front hair was Short & i need to fix it immediately

[aviatrix-ash]

kinda want to scan and post my copies of allspark almanacs both for preservation and to have a collection of drawing reference to have on hand

[u3pxx]

💛🕊️ Five times Aziraphale gave Crowley a gift plus one time Crowley gave a gift in return.

DID YOU KNOW THAT @contritecactite, once again, wrote a VERY GOOD fic about my bad omens spouses??? and it's so wonderfully GOOD???!?!?!!

anywhooo, a very big special thanks again to elle for writing this! it's been just a real treat talking to them and the klapollomb gomens s2 support group about bad omens ��� i'm really, really thankful that y'all decided to indulge me and my freakingg swap au wheezes <33

i'm gonna cut myself off here and ramble more under keep reading :0]

like these drawings? they're prints, here! | like what i do? support me on ko-fi!

seeing this get written was an experience! one of the things keeping me alive during prelim exams LOL if i remember correctly, this kind of started bc i was curious if bomens zira would actually have, i guess, a real demon equivalent the way shax (stork), beelzebub (fly), and furfur (deer) do. so i looked up the words 'crow demon' and whaddya know!

a crow demon!! and what's that? "cause Love"?

what a perfect fit for demon!aziraphale! and really, i was only messing around the first time i had the idea of "haha lol wouldn't it be funny if demon aziraphale was a crow", and then bam! all of it started to, surprisingly, fit well together pfttt (special thanks to bepo for being the one to piece it all together wheezes <33) (also, just really thank you all for bouncing ideas with me, it really does make me happy dfgdhjd <3333)

and then elle wrote a little snippet at first (IIRC) and then he just feakign!!!!!!! WOAGH!!!!!!! just, tasty delicious words, a fic that made me kick my feet like i was a schoolgirl while reading the whole thing ASKSKS <333

i'm really happy with all the spot art i drew for this! wanted it to look very uhhh, i wouldn't say storybook, but watercolor illustrations were definitely a huge inspiration! i wanted them to feel as nice and cozy as YOU would feel while reading elle's fic <3

i do gotta thank elle again for making these two fem-presenting when they were at the dowlings' bc then i get to draw butch gardener crowley. do you know how much that means to me? do you know do you do y do you know how m how much that how m b butches butches butches .

and a little bonus, one where crowley did not want to pose for the painting PFTT

i am once again putting the link here if you've scrolled this far down without reading it yet, go! go! go!!! IT'S SO GOOD!!!! <3333

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3

Not So Secret.

carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing.

written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”

“Shut up.”

Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.

You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.

Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.

“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”

When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.

“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”

“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”

She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.

“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”

“Carmy will go with you!”

Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.

“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”

Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.

“You’re okay with me driving?”

“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”

You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.

“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”

He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.

He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.

A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.

From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.

Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.

You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.

He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.

“Carmy.”

“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”

You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.

“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”

He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.

“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”

He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.

“I think you know.”

“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.

He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.

“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”

You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.

“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”

“Who bet on you? And who against?”

“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”

“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”

He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.

“Kiss me, Carm.”

He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.

You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.

“You should get your eyes checked.”

He tries to process for a moment.

“Huh?”

“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”

He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.

When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.

[blakeblueboi]

Cat Animagi Au

Purely self-indulgent- I simply wanted to draw some kitties and honestly, I feel like this could be hilarious so here's some head canons I thought of while drawing this ---->

Harry

Harry was not at all expecting to be a cat Animagus. He fully expected to be a stag like his father or some sort of dog like Sirius was. The last thing he expected was to be a cat, and a very large one at that.

Harry became an animagus in eighth year.

Professor McGonagall was thrilled that she was no longer the only cat Animagus at Hogwarts. She personally saw to it that Harry was registered as an animagus at the Ministry.

Hermione often finds Harry curled up in the common room on the windowsill.

Ron is convinced that Harry is some sort of "titan" cat due to his humungous size but Hermione speculates that he's some sort of maine coon or Norwegian forest cat.

He is very much a void in the darkness and has scared the piss out of Ron, Seamus, and Dean many times.

However, his animagus status is kept quiet from anyone other than his housemates. The other houses now recognize his animagus form and give him weird or outlandish nicknames. They're mostly to do with either the faint glasses markings around his eyes or his larger than normal size.

Harry takes advantage of his smaller size to sneak around the castle during the night.

He has taken pleasure by nipping Draco's heels in the hallway between classes.

Draco

Draco, on the other hand, was hoping his animagus form was anything but a ferret. Every since that incident in the courtyard with Professor Moody he has loathed the creatures.

His mother predicted he could have been an exotic bird and for a while he was fond of the idea until he realized he would have to molt feathers every year.

The first time he transformed Pansy gushed over him and promised to purchase him one of those pretty necklaces that she's seen muggles give their cats. Draco had to explain to her how that was, infact, not a necklace, but a collar. Blaise would not shut up about giving Draco a collar for the next month.

Draco takes pride in his appearance and that does not stop when he's in his animagus form. He's always very sleek and shiny without a hair out of place. His tail is by far his favorite feature with how it looks like a fancy feather when he walks.

He's yet to register with the Ministry as an animagus.

He can often be found infront of the fire in the Slytherin Common room curled up on a silk pillow.

Draco hates the black smudge on his right foreleg that imitated the dark mark on his arm. Even as a simple cat he can't escape the choices he made in the past. He's tried ripping the fur out there but found that the skin underneath was also just as black. He had a mind to dye it but that idea quickly went out of the window for a multitude of reasons. One being he did not have opposable thumbs.

Draco and Harry

When Draco stumbled upon Harry in his animagus form it was completely by accident. At first Draco was afraid that the Chosen one would somehow recognize him but was surprised to find a gentle hand passing over his head and spine. It was the weirdest experience he has ever had.

Draco took to following Harry around the castle on weekends convinced that Harry was none the wiser about who he was. It was nice. Of course when Ron and Hermione weren't around. WHen they were Ron teased Harry about gaining a follower, as if he did have those already, and Hermione studied him as if he was one of the massive tomes she carried around. He was half convinced that she had figured him out long ago, but just hadn't said anything for some unknown reason.

Draco met Harry finally in the other's animagus form while stalking the halls late at night. A quick glance and Draco was petrified by two glowing green eyes in the darkness and it took everything in him not to flee down the hallway.

It took awhile for the two to get along in their animagus forms and on several occasions had to be broken up by Professor McGonagall who during several of those occasions was in her animagus form as well.

After a while, Harry and Draco slowly form a weird routine of walking the halls at night. They bond quite well during their time together.

Harry at some point joins the gag about getting Draco a fancy collar. Draco is surprised that it doesn't seem like that bad of an idea when coming from Harry.

Draco teases Harry about how even as a cat his furr is still just as messy as his hair is in human form.

[tragedybunny]

Astarion head cannon! If your tav has any artistic ability (or none and is learning) imagine if he found you drawing his face a bunch to try get a good image of him to share. Pre act 2 where he believes you actually love him and he loves you. Just seeing this person doing something purely for him confusing and scaring hin but feeling too nice to want to run from.

So I had to turn this into a little story, it was too good.

What The Heart Sees - Astarion x F!Reader

You've been acting suspicious and Astarion is going to get to the bottom of it.

You'd been acting ever so slightly strange around him. He hasn't put the pieces together yet, but Astarion knows something is going on with you. The thought fills him with a little dread, he's worked so hard to get you on his side, to have someone to keep the others from turning on him. Now it might all be slipping through his fingers. 

Whatever was happening, he needed to bring it to a halt and get you back to your regular sweet devotion to him. The first step was interrogating your companions. Lae'zel and Shadowheart of course saw nothing wrong with your behavior. "Maybe she just needs a rest from your fangs at her neck," Shadowheart snipped and Astarion considered giving her neck a try one night before stomping away. 

Gale and Karlach at least confirmed his suspicions. As usual Gale was too worried about exploding to be much help, but Karlach, dear Karlach tried to be helpful. "We're all going through a lot. Maybe she's just tired Fangs." So, there was something going on with you, but no one seemed to have any clue. Maybe the Mind Flayer transformation was actually happening just very slowly, he shuddered at the thought. 

This situation clearly called for some less wholesome tactics. Stealth and spying on you, for now, maybe violating your trust and rummaging through your stuff as well. That night he crept to your tent after everyone had retired, there was still the faint glow of a light spell illuminating it. His intent had been to stop and listen, see if could find an angle to glance in that wouldn’t expose himself. Quietly, he made it near the entrance, perfect, you were unawares. There was a book cradled in your lap. Perhaps you’d found some arcane knowledge you were unwilling to share. He hadn’t thought you were power hungry, but maybe he’d misjudged. Reaching over, you picked up a piece of charcoal. Interesting, he leaned forward. “Woof.” Scratch was on top of him, wagging his tail, and he was laying the dirt outside your tent. 

You jump up, clearly startled, and he wanted to gut the stupid beast. But he saw where you tucked that precious book as you leapt up. “Astarion!” You were standing at the opening of the tent, looking down at him with concern. 

“Hello my Sweet,” he tries his best to still somehow be charming while pushing Scratch off him. “I uh, saw you were up and wanted to check on you but Scratch is apparently in a playful mood.” 

“Oh Scratch! You haven’t had enough attention huh?’ You reach out to pet the mongrel and talk softly to him as Asatrion pushes himself out of the dirt. “I was just reading, sorry to disturb you.” 

“No worries Darling,” he gives you a perfunctory peck on the cheek before heading back to his tent. It was all working out anyway. 

The next night comes and he’s ready, Scratch has given him quite a bit of inspiration. Discreetly Astarion leads the heap of fur to the edge of the camp, the ball he had dragged in from somewhere tucked in a pocket. “Come here Scratch,” he hisses, waving it around, getting his attention before chucking it off into the woods. The animal follows excitedly. Astarion isn’t sure where it went and he doesn’t care. Scratch is more a rival for your attention than anything else anyway. 

After a couple of minutes he finds you at the campfire, blissfully unaware. “Has anyone seen Scratch,” he asks, as innocently as he can manage. 

“Oh no,” your eyes quickly scan the campsite, “he must have wandered off.” You seem so distressed, he almost feels guilty. But this is his survival on the line. “Maybe I should go look for him.” 

“Do take Halsin my Dear, he’ll have the best chance at tracking,” and one less person around camp to watch. 

“Right,” you nod, standing and trodding off to the Druid. 

No sooner are you gone then Astarion is creeping into your tent when no one is looking. No light needed, he sees everything perfectly, including the little pack you shoved your book in last night. Victory. He wrests it from the spot under your pillow and plops down on your blankets to study it. What forbidden knowledge rests inside. The worn cover flips open to…

Sketches, sketches of him specifically. Not that he remembers what he looks like, but the clothes give it away, along with the poses, moments he remembers. Him, you’ve been drawing him. He continues to flip through the book, more bits of him, frozen in time, and the technique improves. Why are you doing this? The mirror, he remembers, being upset about not seeing his reflection. 

Sitting there in stunned silence, he feels an unpleasant weight in his chest. No one has ever done anything like this for him before. It’s…kind. Not that you’ve ever been any other way to him ever. Gods, what is he even doing, maybe he should just…

“Astarion!” Slamming the book shut, he jumps up. “Hello Darling, I-”

“You ruined the surprise,” you scold, looking so dejected he somehow feels worse than he did a moment ago. 

“I’m sorry, I was curious. I saw you with it the other night. It’s amazing though,” he tries to placate, guilt an emotion he’s buried for so long, but fear is there as well. Fear he’s crossed a line you won’t tolerate. 

Bending down, you retrieve the book from where it landed. “I was hoping to get something I was pleased with to show you, but I suppose it will have to do for now.” 

“Really, you shouldn’t bother so much with it,” you look up at him so sadly he quickly adds, “you do too much for me already. But I do appreciate this gift.” Impulsively he pulls you close and kisses you quickly before letting you go. “Is this really what you see? 

“That and so much more.” The way you stare at him with adoration, the way you always treat him so sweetly, the way he suddenly wants nothing more than to stand here in this tent forever, basking in you, it’s all becoming too much, he could almost swear he had a pulse to hammer in his veins. Hells, what has he gotten himself into with you? 

[orchidniins]

Helloooo i LOVE the Serendipitous beginnings😍😍😍😍 the tension is giving✨️

Btw can i have a reaction for mr.television for being possessive towards his girl, bcuz ms gurl is so pretty and many people want her💅.

Question: Do u also write for chaos crew or sidemen??

Possessive | Arthur Frederick

A/N: Thanks for the request! And I'm so glad that you loved my first ArthurTV fic! I'm absolutely in love with this idea and I hope this is what you had in mind. As for your question Anon, I currently only write for Choos crew (Mainly ArthurTV, Arthur Hill and George Clarke) and ChrisMD. Hope you enjoy!! Pairings: ArthurTV x GN!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1k+

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Arthur wasn't typically the possessive or jealous type.

Throughout your relationship, he trusted you completely, especially after you had told him about you past experiences with possessive boyfriends. He had full faith in you, never feeling the need to control or restrict your interactions, even when you had male friends who would often come over to your place to hang out.

You were currently getting ready for a mini reunion with some old classmates from school. You had spent your time getting ready quite nicely this evening. The venue they had picked to meet up at was slightly fancy, so you wanted to dress up to suit the occasion. You opted for a cute outfit that complimented your figure and complexion perfectly, and you styled your hair to perfection.

As you finished getting ready, Arthur couldn't help but admire your beauty. "You look absolutely beautiful," he remarked, his hands gently resting on your waist. You smiled in response, a hint of appreciation in your eyes as you thanked him. Arthur leaned in and planted a quick peck on your cheek.

He couldn't shake the possessive urge to keep you all to himself. Despite your initial hesitance, if it weren't for him convincing you to attend, he would have gladly kept you at home, wrapped up in his arms. He had assured you he would accompany you, especially since many people would be bringing their partners.

Arthur remembered you talking about feeling unpopular in school and simply coasting through without much attention from guys or anyone really. He was shocked, he thought you were absolutely beautiful and would often voice his disbelief, but you would just shoot it down.

Once the two of you reached the venue, Arthur initially let you go off with your friends, especially when one of them pulled you away to meet the others. He decided to hang back at the bar, allowing you to have your moment.

As you mingled with a group of classmates, compliments about your stunning appearance and your transformation since school filled the air. However, despite not typically being the possessive type, Arthur couldn't shake off the pang of jealousy as your male classmates openly flirted with you, despite your polite rejections and mention of your relationship status.

Arthur, currently standing with a few of your friends that he had met previously, tried his best to resist the urge to draw closer to you. He did not want to suffocate you with his presence despite the overwhelming desire to do so. With each flirty remark directed at you, his jealousy simmered beneath the surface, yet he maintained his composure, engaging in conversation while ensuring you remained in his line of sight.

Almost as if reading Arthur’s mind, you leave the group and make your way back to him, momentarily easing his tension. However, his relief is short-lived as he watches someone intercept you on your way, attempting to chat you up as well.

Arthur's jaw tenses as he observes from where he’s stood, and a flicker of possessiveness flashes across his eyes. He turns to your friends, his tone edged with a hint of annoyance, "Who's the guy?"

As Arthur watches your body stiffen, his gaze never leaving your form, he senses your discomfort.

"Oh, him," your friend begins, catching the shift in Arthur's calm demeanor. "I didn’t know he was coming. Y/N had a bit of a crush on him in school, but he was kind of a dick to them. Like he was one of those stuck-up pricks, thought he was too good for everyone, you know?"

Feeling a surge of possessiveness, Arthur's grip tightens around his glass as he excuses himself from the conversation. He walks up to where you are standing, his demeanor protective and possessive. Wrapping his arms securely around your waist, he draws you closer, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you. Pressing a tender kiss to the side of your temple, he feels your body relax against his and your tension melts away in his embrace.

His voice, low and commanding, cuts through the air, "Hi Love, who’s this?"

Standing slightly taller than the other guy, Arthur squares his shoulders, introducing himself, "I'm their boyfriend."

The man hesitated, clearly intimidated by Arthur's imposing presence, before hastily retreating with a muttered excuse. Your pulse quickens as you look up at him, feeling a rush of arousal at his dominant display.

"Shall we?" Arthur's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, his gaze intense as he extended his hand. With a nod, you place your hand in his, allowing him to lead you back to your friends.

The rest of the night, Arthur throws his own rules out of the door, abandoning any pretense of restraint. He stays glued to your side, His arm draped protectively around your waist, or sometimes resting tenderly over your shoulder, as if to claim you as his own. He wanted to demonstrate to everyone present just how stunning you were, and more importantly, that you were his.

On your drive back home, you in the driver’s seat, a weighted silence fills the car, both grappling with the events of the night. Eventually, it was Arthur who broke it, his voice soft and filled with concern as he spoke, "Sorry if I seemed a bit too… clingy tonight. I didn’t mean to, I suppose I got a bit carried away."

You reply, your eyes remaining fixed on the road ahead, your tone reassuring and expression soft. "No, you don’t have to apologize. It was fine, honestly," you assure him.

The atmosphere in the car drifted into a comfortable lull, a moment of uncertainty, before you decided to break it with a teasing question, "So, Arthur, were you feeling a little jealous?" You glance at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Arthur chuckled lightly, shaking his head in denial. "Not at all," he replied, though his expression remained hard to read as he turned to meet your gaze.

They came to a stop at a traffic light, the red glow illuminating the car. You turn to him, still teasing, "So, you weren't jealous?" you asked, pointing at him with a grin.

Arthur reached for your hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. His eyes held yours, and he said, "Just remember who you belong to, darling."

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Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Requests are currently open!! Or just drop in for a chat!😊

[dira333]

Carpe Puella - Kuroo x Reader

For the lovely @misfit-megumi because she asked so nicely. I hope you're feeling as lovely as you are!!!

A/N: Convenience store romance, pure fluff

Coffee. You need coffee. And maybe some solid food to go with that liquid lifesaver, because your stomach lining is holding on for dear life.

The doors to the Konbini swish open. You put your phone away, your fingers already itching to get back to it. Installing your work email on your mobile device has simultaneously been your best and worst decision to date. You can get so much more done. But you can also get so much more done!

“Good evening,” an elderly woman greets you. You nod and smile at her. Right. You’re taking a break. Focus on the real world.

You pay for a can of iced coffee, crack it open, and take the first sip as you trudge through the store. Do you want some ice cream? Some cake? Or rather something savory?

You spot the Buldak Carbonara easily, drawn toward its inviting Logo. Your hand reaches out to take it, but someone else seems to have the same thought, your hand knocking into theirs.

“Oh,” you both say. You blink up and up and up. The guy’s tall, dark-haired, and extremely handsome. As well as beyond exhausted. He blinks tiredly back at you. 

“Long day at work?” You ask, because he looks like you feel. He nods. His eyes flicker to the can of coffee in your hand and his sudden envy is almost palpable. You offer him the can before you can fully think it through.

“Want a sip?” You ask, surprised when he takes it. His hand is warm against yours, the chill of the drink having seeped into your skin. 

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and your eyes are drawn to it, the milky skin above the creamy white of his shirt, the dark red of his tie. 

“Thank you.” He looks down at the can and his face turns almost sheepish. “I think I emptied it.”

“Buy me another one?” 

-

His name is Kuroo. He’s tall, even when he’s sitting next to you at the little self-serve bar, waiting for his own bowl of Buldak Carbonara to cool down. 

“What do you do for work?” He asks, slowly sipping from a new can of iced coffee. You're still twirling yours in your hands, suddenly too aware of the way your hair must look after hours of work or the fact that you didn’t have time to put make-up on this morning. You don’t know what got into you to talk to him like that. You’re not usually this forward, which explains your status of being a long-time single.

“I work for as an agent for the JSA,” you tell him, ready to launch into the usual explanation of what that abbreviation means. Instead, his head shoots up, his ridiculously attractive hair bobbing with the motion.

“JSA as in Japanese Soccer Association?” 

You blink. “You know them?”

Kuroo grins and it transforms his features, turning him from being dark, mysterious, and attractive into warm, boyish, and even more attractive. Damn your heart that stutters to a halt.

“I work for the JVA.”

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Never.” He draws a cross over his heart to emphasize before he leans in. “How did you get into Soccer?”

“My dad taught me when I was younger. He trained our Middle School team. You?”

His smile turns softer. You can almost feel how it must be for him, diving into the past.

“My dad played with me when I was a kid. And when we moved in with my grandparents, it helped me form a friendship that lasts to this day. I know it’s hard to believe but I was rather shy as a kid.”

You feel your own lips tugging upward. It’s hard to stay in a bad mood around him, it seems.

“Does Yahito-san still work for you?” You ask, dragging your chopsticks through the thickened sauce. 

“No, she left a few months ago. Maternity leave.” He digs his own chopsticks in.

“Oh? How lovely!” 

-

“This was nice,” Kuroo says, the doors of the Konbini closing behind you.

“It was.”

His number is saved in your phone and vice versa.

Inside, this had felt like something, like a moment meant to be remembered. Just like before a goal, the air had visibly shifted. But there had been no kiss, no hug, nothing but a promise to try and keep in touch.

And now, outside on the streets, your life is pulling you in again. Your phone is vibrating in your pocket. Pretty sure it’s Ego, the new Blue Lock Project is coming along nicely, almost all 300 female Strikers have been assembled. Tomorrow, Kuroo will probably be nothing but a fond memory. Someone who could have been more, but never will be.

That thought drops heavy into your stomach. You stretch out your arm and offer him your hand to shake. You won’t be able to handle a hug now, not when you know that nothing is going to come out of this anyway.

“Until we meet again,” you tell him and make sure to smile. His own smile falters but he shakes your hand, the pressure firm and reassuring.

Not even five minutes later you’re walking down the street, eyes on the sidewalk as if you’re trying not to trip. Instead, you’re forcing yourself not to turn back around.

Your phone vibrates again and you pull it out, hoping for once that it’s a call from Ego or Anri, something to keep your mind occupied.

Instead, it’s Kuroo who’s calling.

You pick up and turn around, but the sidewalk is rather crowded and you can’t make him out anywhere.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah.” His voice is a little breathless. “Do you want to go see a movie?”

“N-Now?” You chide yourself right away. He probably thought about sometime next week.

“Yeah.” You can hear the grin in his voice, can picture it perfectly in your mind’s eye. “Don’t move, I can already see you.” 

And just like that, he slips out from between two strangers, dark hair crowning his proud grin and the twinkle in his eyes.

“Hi!” He breathes, phone still pressed to his ear. “Do you know the term ‘Carpe Diem’?”

“Not on the top of my head, no.”

“It means seize the day. And I suppose I’m doing just that. Or, more correctly, I’m doing Carpe Puella.”

“And that would be?” You can feel your heart bubbling in your throat. This isn’t what you expected, not something you could ever dream of happening. But he’s here and he’s grinning from one ear to the other, fondness warming his dark eyes. 

“To seize the girl.” 

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[blueywrites]

The Munson Dunkin' AU

endgame Eddie Munson x fem!Reader. no use of y/n. all fluff (for now...)

You watch the new guy working the Dunkin' drive-thru window feed a donut to a raccoon. (1.4k)

Inspired by this Tiktok 'cause Eddie really fuckin' would, and we all know it. Thanks to the Coven for talking this silly AU through with me!

tagging @newlips 'cause I have a feeling she might be interested in this one 😘. also, this is written especially for my loves @abibliophobiaa and @ghost-proofbaby🌻

-

You know everyone who works the drive-thru window at the Dunkin' Donuts closest to your apartment. Or, at least, you thought you did.

When you started your first job as a legal assistant at a small but reputable legal firm, the morning routine you’d enjoyed throughout college drastically transformed. Now, every weekday, your alarm blares so early in the morning it’s practically inhuman. You stuff yourself into dowdy office wear, complete with panty-hose and kitten heels (no rocking the boat with your fashion choices if you want them to take you seriously). And then, you must take your little cobalt-blue Honda Civic and brave the dreaded commute into the city, all in the name of ‘becoming a real working adult’.

So what began as a small indulgence to settle your nerves your first week of work quickly became a daily pick-me-up, a little reward to yourself for 'gettin’ out there and doin' the thing.' Now, you stop at Dunkin' every morning at just after seven to pick up your caffeine fix before heading to the office. 

In the last month, you’ve encountered all the early morning drive-thru attendants and recognize them now by voice and manner, though not by name. There’s a pale girl with bright blue eyes and short deep brown hair, voluminous and cut to her narrow jaw, wavy locks framing a small, dimpled chin; a guy with a square face and hazel eyes, sporting finger-tousled bangs that chicly graze one dark brow; and a tanned guy with perpetually half-lidded eyes and pleasantly rounded nose and lips, whose face is framed by a long sheet of shiny, jet-black hair. 

It’s obvious who’s working the window on a given day when you hear their greetings at the speaker, which are all very distinct from each other.

The greeting could be chipper and corporatesque, very by the book: “Welcome to Dunkin’, how can I help you?” That one never varies, not even in tone or inflection— she’s so precise, sometimes you wonder if maybe she’s playing a recording or something.

It could be warm and schmoozy, a little overly-familiar but charming all the same: “Well, hey there! How’re you doing today?” It’s nice, but then you have to quickly pivot from your order to say ‘Good, how about you?’, otherwise you feel like an asshole.

Or it could be just one long, semi-coherent slur of a question: “S’up, can I get you somethin’?” Same, dude, you think whenever you get that one. It’s way too early to be awake, and yet here we both are.

It could be any of those options, and today, as you roll up to the speaker, you receive that first greeting. But it’s in the wrong voice. Where you expect something upbeat and crisply feminine, what you get instead is raspy, brash, and decidedly masculine.

“Welcome to Dunkin'. What can I get you today?”

It’s not a voice you recognize, but you don’t particularly care. Automatically, you provide your order, and without any fuss, he confirms your total. Same order, same total, same morning routine as always. That’s all that matters, really. You don’t visit Dunkin' for the bustling social scene, after all. 

As you round the corner of the small, boxy building, the drive-thru window with its little orange awning slides into view. That is what you’re rolling steadily towards when a flash of movement near the opposite curb draws your eye to a curious sight: a raccoon. Utterly confounded, you stare at the gray creature— fuzzy and plump like a spool of scratchy yarn— as it inches forward on its tiny dark paws. 

Yes, your apartment is in the suburbs, and yes, there is a thick line of trees to that side of the parking lot, so it isn’t that shocking. But you’ve never actually seen a raccoon outside of roadkill splatter on the road, and you certainly weren’t expecting to see one visiting a Dunkin' Donuts. Because that’s truly what it appears to be doing. As it emerges from the treeline, slinking over the curb and onto the asphalt, its nose turns up toward the drive-thru window; those beady eyes remained locked on clear plexiglass, the apparent source of its fascination. 

It is seven in the morning, you reason, so there's a possibility that you might just still be half asleep. But when you blink, expecting the creature to clear from your vision like a mirage, it doesn’t go anywhere.

This is actually happening, then. You purse your lips as you consider and confirm your musings with a bobbing nod that no one sees. Yup. This is, for sure, the weirdest goddamn thing I've ever seen.

In fact, you’re so confounded by what’s happening that you’re still rolling forward in your car, drawing ever-closer to the animal at the same time it edges farther into your lane. It doesn’t seem to notice your approach. Instead, the raccoon shuffles forward a few more steps, and then— more peculiar and alarming than if it had done pretty much anything else— it stretches like a slinky, rising onto its two back feet. Its neck disappears into its shoulders as its arms outstretch, like it’s reaching for something that isn’t there.

This is the final nail in the coffin for your composure.

“What in the fuck?”

The sound of your own voice startles you out of your dazed stupor, and your heart leaps into your throat as you realize how close you’ve coasted toward the raccoon. Hastily, you slam the brake, jerking your car to a stop to prevent it from pancaking the oblivious creature. 

All is motionless for a moment. And then, in a perversely slow manner, the plexiglass drive-thru window shunts open in a mechanic whirr of laboring motors, crawling until it thunks against the far wall, falling silent.

Considering your alarm and bafflement, it’s more a relief than anything when, after a brief pause, an arm abruptly thrusts through the window opening. Its appearance solves the mystery: the arm is pale but heavily-inked, ending in a thin wrist and a big, broad hand that holds a pink-frosted donut.

The raccoon reaches higher as the arm stretches further, both straining toward one another until those tiny human-like paws close around the offered confection. Then, the animal hunches down to a squat, billowing out in a puddle of bristly gray fur. Its snout quivers as it sniffs the donut, walking its paws along its edge, slowly rotating its prize as you look on in wonderment.

That inked arm has retracted now, but you barely notice. Your long commute and stuffy attire and early morning wake-up have never been further from your mind as you watch the raccoon handle the donut, which is nearly as big as its head. Your confusion has turned to fascination. In fact, it’s kind of cute, you decide as its black paws begin to mound with pink, which smears between its tiny clawed fingers. You hold your breath while, tentatively, it noses at the icing, licking it with a tiny flick of its tongue. 

And then, startlingly quickly, the raccoon snatches the donut in its jaws and turns in a flash of gray and black. It skitters on all fours back across the lane, trailing a fat ringed tail which bumps over the curb as it bids a hasty retreat. 

With a little, final flick, that tail disappears into the treeline. 

It seems, all of a sudden, to have been a privilege to experience this absurdity. And how strange it is that your early-morning exhaustion has suddenly turned to delight— delight which is echoed on the face of the man whose head now pops from the window in a wild mess of brown curls. Pink lips split the pale of his face in a crooked grin. 

“Sorry,” he says, and it’s the same brash rasp that greeted you at the speaker. “Little buddy’s gotta get his breakfast, too, y’know?”

So, as it turns out, you don’t know everyone who works the Dunkin' drive-thru window on weekday mornings. And maybe the social scene has more to offer than you originally thought.

-

I have other ideas for this silly little AU, including some more cameos from familiar faces and a budding romance for our metalhead barista and his favorite customer. If you want more, let me know! ☕️🍩

[hisui-dreamer]

a calculated kiss

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

Synopsis: When Leona Kingscholar makes an effort, you best believe he wants a reward.

Tags: crushes, banter, crack, math is mentioned, slight pining, bot proofread

Word count: 1.4k+

Notes: this fic idea came to me in a dream and boy what a nice dream it was hehe

Masterlist

The room was a labyrinth of towering book spines, stretching up to the ceiling and beyond. The air was heavy with the aroma of old paper and ink, giving the room a musty, soothing smell. The dim lighting cast a tranquil aura upon the room, transforming it into a sanctuary amidst the frenzied bustle of the school.

It was the perfect place to take a nap.

As Leona rounded the corner, his nostrils flared with a familiar scent that set his heart alight. He turned his head, following the aroma to its source, and there you were, hunched over a table with a look of intense concentration etched onto your face. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over your face and highlighting your face. Your furrowed brow and the way you squinted at the worksheets on the desk told him that you were deep in thought, lost in a world of your own creation.

For someone who walked into his life without warning, he found it surprising how quickly you had wormed your way into his heart. You were like a sudden gust of wind that swept into his life, catching him off guard, and he couldn't help but be enchanted by the way you danced and twirled, carrying with you the promise of change and new beginnings. Like a rare and delicate flower, you had miraculously bloomed in the midst of winter, bringing him a warmth and vibrancy that thawed his heart, inviting him to bask in your radiance.

With a nonchalant gait, he strolled over to where you sat. His lips curved into a smug grin, his signature expression that often preceded his teasing remarks. "Oi, herbivore," he quipped, dripping with amusement. "What's got you so bothered?"

You whipped your head up in response, mumbling his name in disbelief. "Leona... It's nothing really, I'm just having some trouble with this assignment," they admitted, holding up a sheet of paper covered in scribbles and crossed-out words. "I can't seem to get it right."

He raised an eyebrow in a curious fashion, a spark of genuine interest ignited within him, momentarily illuminating his otherwise impassive features. With a sharp exhale, a sound caught between a scoff and a chuckle, he leaned forward, his commanding presence drawing you in. "Hah, it can't be that bad. Show me," he offered, his voice a rich timbre that rolled off his tongue like honey.

As he scrutinized the paper, his sharp eyes darted back and forth across the page, his mind working at a breakneck pace. "Math, huh?" he mused, his lips curving upward in a hint of a smirk. "Hmm, this stuff is easy."

With a abrupt surge of energy, he dove into the work, his fingers deftly dancing across the page as he explained the problem with ease. You could hardly believe your eyes as he pointed out mistakes and offered suggestions, each correction executed with effortless grace. It was as if the numbers themselves were at his command, bending to his will with each swift stroke of his pen. "There, just like that."

"Wow, Leona, you're really good at this!" you exclaimed. "I never would have been able to do this without you!"

His lips curled upwards into a triumphant grin, his chest swelling with pride. "It's just some simple math," he replied confidently. "Now," he said, his hand darting out to snatch the worksheet from you in a blur of motion, "give it a go on your own this time."

At your incredulous expression, Leona huffed. "What, did you think I'd be doing your work for you?" he teased, his voice tinged with playful mischief.

You shook your head wryly, though your lips curved up in a smile. "I was hoping you would," you said, nudging him playfully. "But I suppose I'll have to do it myself."

Leona chuckled, enjoying your playful banter. "You'll be fine," he reassured you. "You won't learn if you don't do it yourself."

You let out a sigh, a hint of reluctance in your voice. "I know," you admitted, the weight of the task ahead of you starting to settle in. "But it's just so overwhelming sometimes. I don't even know where to start."

Leona leaned back in his chair, his viridescent eyes never leaving yours. "Well, break it down then," he suggested, his voice calm and reassuring. "What's the first step? What do you need to do?"

He guided you through the process, breaking down the assignment into manageable chunks, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for his help. Slowly but surely, his playful teasing gave way to genuine interest in your progress. He listened attentively as you shared your thoughts and ideas, offering advice and encouragement along the way.

As you gazed upon the once-blank notebook, now brimming with neatly-written answers, you were struck with a surge of pride and accomplishment. It felt as if a refreshing breeze on a sweltering summer day had washed over you, invigorating your very being. The weight of your academic responsibilities lifted, replaced by a sense of contentment and satisfaction that settled deep within your soul.

"Thanks, Leona," you said, your voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Leona's mischievous grin illuminated his face as he cockily replied, "Well, I think I deserve a reward for my services, don't you?"

You raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh really? And what kind of reward were you thinking of?"

Leona leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne mingled with the scent of the room, creating an intoxicating mix that made your head spin. His voice was a velvet whisper, weaving a seductive spell that sent a flock of butterflies aflutter in your stomach. His breath warm against your ear, he posed his question. "How about a kiss?"

Your cheeks instantly flushed as you stared at him in shock, not expecting his bold request. Leona couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction.

"Well… okay," you answered meekly.

His eyes opened wide like a startled fawn, but as he opened his mouth to speak, your delicate lips brushed against his, and he was struck by a wave of sensations crashing into him like a surging tide. The kiss was tender, a symphony of sweetness that sent electric jolts down his spine and set his heart racing like a galloping stallion. Leona could feel your warmth seeping into him, your tenderness enveloping him like a comforting blanket.

When you finally pulled apart, Leona blinked, before he started laughing, his body shaking with mirth. "Hahahahaha! Who would've thought a herbivore like you would have the guts!"

You shook your head and smiled, your cheeks still slightly warm. "You're the one who asked for it. But thank you for helping me with my homework. It means a lot to me."

He chuckled, like a melody of soft bells in the distance, drawing even closer until his forehead rested gently against yours. His warm breath danced across your skin. "It was my pleasure," he murmured, his voice low and husky like the deep rumble of a cello. "I wouldn't mind lendin' you a hand again, you know. As long as there's a little somethin' in it for me, of course," he added, his smug grin returning in full force, like the bright and mischievous glint of a cat's eyes in the dark.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his playful demeanor. "Always looking for a reward, aren't you?" you teased.

He shrugged, his eyes glinting mischievously. "What can I say? I like to be motivated."

You laughed, enjoying the banter between the two of you. As much as you enjoyed his company, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words. "Well, if you're looking for a reward, maybe I can think of something," you said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Oh, I'm sure you can," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart thumped like a drum as you peered into his emerald eyes, brimming with an insatiable longing that made your insides twist in a knot. In a flash, his lips met yours, and you were enveloped in his embrace, his arms a shield that enveloped you. It felt electric, sending sparks flying through your body. It was as if the heat and fervour that had been simmering between the two of you had finally erupted into a tempest. As you melted into his hold, you couldn't help but wonder what other rewards he wanted from you.

But really, you could never deny him anything.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[starlingflight]

Hiya friend!

Do you think Harry calls Ginny by her full name when he wants to be a little shit?

Also, just want to say that I love the way you write Ginny plus the bestie moment between Ron and Harry.

❤️

Anon, this ask did something to my brain.

Firstly, thank you so much! That's so nice of you to say 🥰

Secondly, yes, I think Harry says it to wind Ginny up, and I think he gets more than he bargained for when he does.

To demonstrate, have this unhinged one-shot (drabble? Almost) I stayed up until 3am writing, in which Harry discovers he has a certain... effect on Ginevra...

AO3 or read below:

The first time he'd said it had been at Hogwarts; not during a sunlit day, but in the peaceful hour between day and night, when dusk had been gathering around them as they sat, wrapped up in one another, beneath their favourite beech tree. 

The temperature had dropped as the sun had receded behind the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. She'd protested at first, when he'd tried to give her his jumper, but Ginny's objections had been half-hearted, and Harry's determination had been absolute, and eventually she'd slipped the soft green material over her head. 

Despite the rapidly lowering temperature, something warm and content settled in Harry's chest at the sight of her, swathed in the soft folds of his jumper. 

She shuffled closer to him, her smile impossibly bright in the growing darkness. “I'm keeping this.”  

His arms wrapped around her instinctively, keeping her near as a teasing smile grew on his own face. “If you ask nicely, I might let you.” 

Her head tilted thoughtfully; her eyes were like twin pools of firewhiskey, reflecting what little light remained as she moved. “I'm not asking, though. I'm merely informing you.” 

Harry tried for a severe expression but the effect she had on him was too much; he doubted there was a substance on Earth as strong as her. His smile stayed in place. “That's stealing, Ginevra.” 

He watched, secretly delighted, as her lips parted slightly in surprise at the use of her full name. His blood thrummed with anticipation, eager to see how she might respond. Idly, he wondered if he might have been wise to draw his wand. 

The thought was fleeting, erased from his mind, as Ginny shook her arm free of the too-long sleeve of his jumper. Her hand reached out slowly; Harry watched its progress across the small gap between them, until her fingers curled around his chin, and his eyes closed for the barest of seconds at her touch. 

Her hand guided him forward. Harry followed her silent command instinctively, closing the gap between them until it was hardly large enough for air to pass between them.

“Don't call me that,” she whispered warningly, her breath tickling his lips.

She kissed him before he could see the smile threatening to break out on her face. 

◇◇◇

He heeded the warning for just over two years before saying it a second time. 

They'd gone immediately from Platform Nine and Three Quarters to Grimmauld Place, which had been utterly transformed from the dark, dour dwelling it used to be. 

He was leaning against the windowsill in his bedroom – their bedroom – watching with utter fascination as she zipped from one side of the room to the other unpacking her Hogwarts trunk for the final time. 

She was talking a mile a minute, catching him up on everything that had happened during her final term. Harry was trying to listen despite the lump forming in his throat, and the trembling in his hands, and the overwhelming sense of fragility that was threatening to engulf him in the face of such a momentous occasion. 

Her hair potion joined his aftershave on the dresser. Harry swallowed thickly.

Ginny didn't seem to notice, or perhaps she was letting him reach an equilibrium in his own time, either way, she flashed him a heart-stoppingly beautiful smile as she hung her dressing gown on the back of the door, right beside his. The effect was immediate. He felt himself relax. 

The blood pounding in his ears receded, and Ginny's words came sharply back into focus. 

“...I skipped half of my classes the week leading up to the final,” she told him with a sly smile that coaxed him into the easy rhythm of their usual back and forth. “Hermione was horrified, but I decided the extra flying time was more important.”

The corners of Harry's lips tugged upwards, momentarily returning her smirk. “I'm disappointed to hear you weren't taking your academics seriously, Ginevra.” 

The small stack of books she'd been carrying to her nightstand tumbled from her grasp to the floor. She crossed to him in three quick steps, forced to rise onto her tiptoes, and even then not matching Harry's height. Her eyes smouldered as they met his. “I told you not to call me that.” 

Something about the way she was looking at him turned his blood molten in his veins. “I'm just trying to make you feel at home.”

Her fingers curled around his t-shirt, pulling him to her. “I am home.” 

He kissed her before she could see the smile threatening to break out on his face. 

◇◇◇

Almost another year passed before he said it a third time. 

Harry was in the kitchen, surrounded by dirty bowls, cracked eggshells, and streaks of flour that ran along the counter top. The recipe book Molly had given him for Christmas was propped open in front of him.  

"Something smells good," Ginny announced, breathing deeply as she entered the kitchen, still dressed in her training robes.  

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth in greeting, the gesture so natural now that he did it unthinkingly. 

“Attempt number six,” he informed her, inclining his head towards the oven, where his latest endeavour at a birthday cake for Teddy was baking. 

Ginny's eyebrows rose in surprise. “You've been busy.” He'd been on attempt number three when she'd left for practice. 

“I can't get it to rise properly.” 

He didn't fool himself into believing she couldn't hear the edge of frustration in his voice. Her hand squeezed his arm in silent reassurance. “Andromeda said she was happy to make it.” 

“I know, but she does so much already.” 

Ginny's fingers slid from his arm, moving upwards, not stopping until they found his cheek, turning his head and forcing him to look at her. “So do you.” 

He nodded, unwilling to agree verbally, but knowing she wouldn't allow him to argue. Still, he couldn't stop himself from saying. “I want to get this right for him.”

“Well, I've yet to discover the thing you can't do when you set your mind to it,” she said encouragingly, her hand leaving his cheek, and heading for the countertop. She shot him a wink that had the contrary results of soothing his agitation, and making his heart rate speed up.  “Besides, I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Her finger ran along the inside edge of the mixing bowl, collecting a sticky coating of  cake mixture on the tip. 

Impulsively, Harry grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand towards him, and licking the sweet mixture off her finger before she could. “You're supposed to wait for the cake to finish baking, Ginevra.” 

Her eyes darkened, lips parting around a sharp intake of breath, confirming a suspicion Harry had been harbouring since the last time he'd said it.  She liked it. 

“If you call me that again, I'll hex you,” her voice was low, dangerous. Seductive. 

“You can try,” Harry said, in a tone that matched hers. His fingers tightened around her wrist, pulling her to him. “But it's only fair to warn you you're dealing with a highly trained Auror.” 

Ginny's head tilted thoughtfully, eyes sweeping over him like she was sizing him up; his skin heated everywhere her gaze touched. “You're forgetting I know all of your weaknesses.” 

Harry hummed against her lips, unable to disagree. She did know all of his weaknesses, that much was undeniable, but he had definitely just confirmed one of hers. He could tell she knew it too. It was obvious from the way her eyes sparked as they met his, silently daring him to test her. 

“You wouldn't fight me though, would you, Ginevra?” 

He accentuated every syllable of her name, drawing it out, enthralled by the way her whole body stiffened in response. 

A beat of tension-filled silence followed, stretching for what felt like eternity, before Ginny surged forward. Their matching smiles broke free a moment before their lips met, and Harry sank into her kiss.

[stardustpinkart]

Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.

Adam nodded, grinning. "It's fun, I really like it. I think it sounds nice... Um- ... I'm sorry, which one are you?" Lucifer tilted his head and laughed lightly. "Lucifer. I usually stay as a snake when I enter the garden?" The man perked up. "Oh yeah! The white one! I'm Adam!"

Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the human's enthusiasm. He adored it to be honest. "Trust me, we all know who you are. How are you enjoying life so far?" "Oh, I really like it! I like learning new things about myself. So far I've learned that I like sweet things, like fruit, and soft things like those other horse things- with the.. branches.. on their heads?" "Deer?" "Yeah, deer, I like those."

The angel smiled along with Adam, just as excited as he was about his discoveries. "You wanna know what else is soft? Here, I think you'll like it." He extended one of his wings out for Adam to feel, accidentally brushing it against his side. The human jumped and covered his side, a surprised grin spreading across his face followed by a sweet sounding giggle.

Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"

The angel grinned, excitedly. "Lift your arms a little bit, I'll show you." Adam did as he was told, lifting his arms up. Again, Lucifer extended his wings, gently brushing them against Adam's sides. The human snorted and slammed his arms down, laughing. Lucifer pulled his wings back to avoid having them stuck under Adam's arms, instead reaching out and gently digging into the sides of his tummy.

Adam shrieked and threw his head back, laughing. Not wanting to overwhelm him, Lucifer slowed to a stop, and pulled his hands back. After a moment of giggling and catching his breath, the human looked back up at the angel, sitting up and smiling.

"Can you do that again?" -------------------------------------------

Based on this cute lil fic I found on Tumblr :) Theres an abudance of Hazbin stuff at the mo, a lot of it really good!

Its nice to think how it might have been in the early days. I grew up catholic, schools and the like(though we didnet really go to church or anything) so I know a few bits. The basic stories, Adam and eve, etc. I believe Lucifer was gods most beloved angel, even had a diffrent name, untill he fell. And that supposedly it hurt him terribly when his beloved angel did.

So since Hazbin already has an alternate lore, what REALLY happened in the beggining. I'm sure Adam would be a lot more innocent to begin with, more pleasant, after all, being nearly made, exploring LIFE. The worst aspects maybe came later especially if heaven and its angels overlypraised him, "Adam could do NOTHING wrong", which led to his arrongance and rudeness and cruelty. Perhaps in the beggining, Lucifer and Adam were even friends? It was later events that changed all that.

There is NO sexual themes here, just that of COURSE, Adam and Eve were naked in the garden. They coevered themsleves in leaves in shame after eating the fruit of knowledge right?

I was stumped for colours cuz, they do seem to vary. Like, Sir pentious, his new form was a lot less scary and threatening in heaven. SO I figured, when he was still alive and just starting in the world, he would have a more mortal colour scheme yeah? As would Lucifer have a softer angelic colour scheme back then

I really enjoyed drawing this :)