#and just going by his breathing patterns (yes I know insanity of a fan)

[murdererofthumbs]

Listen, although I do find it pretty exciting to see Kendall entering his Evil Era and actually becoming a killer, I can’t stop thinking about the consequences of him leaking all the shitty mud information they have on Logan. Like yeah, PR-wise that might be a great idea, it might actually solidify his position as a CEO (and he is obviously going to try and fuck up Matsson deal and take over the Waystar - I don’t know why he would want to captain the fucking sinking Titanic, but okay). But on the other hand, all the dirt coming out about Logan will be potentially catastrophic for Roman. Apart from the fact that Kendall is very clearly betraying his brother, literally like 5 seconds after he preached about them being a team; Roman will very likely suffer the most if stuff about Logan being an abusive father comes out.

First, it will flip his whole viewpoint upside down - he is so deep in denial and so trauma-bonded to Logan that he doesn’t even acknowledge his abuse, not even when in happens in real time. He doesn’t want to see his father as a monster and as his abuser, because that would actually require him to accept that he was a victim, that he was this beaten dog that everyone already sees him as (to one degree or another). Not to mention all the lies he tells himself about Logan and him being a good dad will go straight down the drain, and can you imagine what happens when something you believed for 40-or-so years cracks down in front of you? Kendall is about to break his reality.

Another aspect is that exposing Roman’s abuse to the whole world will likely destroy any and all opportunities that Roman ever had when it comes to rising to power (even if I’m unsure how much he actually cares about becoming a CEO). He might get some sympathy points, although I very much doubt that he will ever accept that form of pity from anyone. His image will be forever tainted and solidified as “the abused one” or the “one that was hit by his dad”. Can you imagine Roman’s reaction when that whole shitshow leaks? He does say at some point in the preview that he is finished, and although it might allude to Gerri putting out the whole dick pic situation, it might also very well be that his public image will forever now revolve around how his dad hit and abused him (his dad who was essentially his god in more than one way, who he was, and is trauma bonded to, who he came back to time and time again).

Kendall has a tendency of using his siblings trauma to forward his own position (even when he wanted to one up Logan in episode 2 by bringing up Roman’s and Connor’s trauma) and this is no different. But it’s a very easy way for him to blow up whatever alliance was ever between sibs. So yeah, I think Kendall as a killer is a great thing to watch, but also… well, Roman girl in me is already screaming in the void from the possible pain we might come to watch unravel in real time.

[bombuni]

hi babi !!! js wna say I love ur user ++ ur writing sm :3 was thinking if maybe u can do anything related to stoner bf San if that's okay?? like maybe him being vv needy while high idk. no rush, xoxo!

contains: sub!san x gn!reader, drug usage obv, bj’s, very soft tbh

minors dni

San’s touchy.

He’s just like that as a person, you’ve come to realize. His hand is always around your shoulders or waist, fingers finding their home in the crook of you neck. You let him, seeing as that’s how he shows his love with everyone. It’s just-sometimes he gets too touchy. Like, he’d breathe for you if he could.

It’s especially bad when he gets high. Once the smoke fills the room, he’s babbling on about the spots on your face and the shape of your cupids bow, waxing poetry about how your touch makes him feel. You’re not complaining at all. It’s only bothersome when he does it during his downtime and you’re busy. Today is not one of those times.

“Baby.”

You hum in acknowledgement, eyes glazed as you mindlessly watch whatever San had decided to put on in the background. You can feel his hot breath fanning onto your neck, the heat of the room and his body filling up your insides.

It’s clear San’s already gone, his low tolerance making him an easy target every time you two smoke together.

“Are you done with work?”

He’s cute when he’s mindless. You turn to look at him with a lovesick smile on your face, “Yes, Sannie. I am.”

San blushes, full-on like a tomato, when you look at him. He giggles like you’ve told the funniest joke, hiding his face in his hands as he scoots away from you like some embarrassed kid out with his first girlfriend.

“You can’t-you can’t just look at me like that,” he still giggles as he speaks, peeking his eyes from behind his hands.

You know San-you know that even though he backs away from you every inch closer you get to him, his itch to touch you only grows. He just gets an extra layer of shyness when he’s high, but it’s easy for you to break through it.

“How am I looking at you?”

He freezes when your hands easily spread his thighs apart, giving you complete freedom to sit between his legs. You’re some sort of Medusa to him, turning him rock hard just with your eyes. He feels his breathing grow heavy when one of your hands traces patterns on his knee; a hot, tingly buzzing sensation following your touch. It makes him fold for you immediately.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, “Like you’re gonna eat me. Are you gonna eat me?”

You chuckle at that, “Wish I could. Then I could keep you forever,”

He takes that tiny comment seriously. Like the mere idea of being apart from you steals the air from his lungs, “I am yours forever.”

Your smile down at him makes his heart grow with love, he feels it every time he’s with you. When he gets like this he truly believes you keep him alive just by looking at him. Your touch is just a nice bonus.

He holds your wrist gently, “Can I show you? That I’m yours forever?”

“No,” you gently take his bigger hand off of you, “I’ll show you.”

San’s not exactly sure what you mean, but he lets you do whatever. He watches as you gently take his sweatpants off, cooing niceties that make a whine build in the back of his throat when he lifts his hips up for you.

You toss his pants to the side, dragging warm fingers up over his thighs tantalizingly slowly until they reach his bulge. He’s hard already, and he’s on the verge of tears at the feeling of you palming him. The way you roll his big cock against the fabric of his underwear makes him slowly go insane, hips bucking every so often when you squeeze his cock. Precum stains his boxers now, but he doesn’t care. No, it just shows how much he belongs to you.

He can’t support the weight of his thoughts anymore. He lets himself tilt back, head banging against the arm of the couch. San lets out a surprised whine when he feels your wet mouth against his neck. He flinches, before succumbing to the ticklish feeling. You’ll leave your mark on him and he’ll be proud to show it off.

San is overly sensitive. The feeling of your sweet lips and loving hand is already too much for him. He’s keening and moaning like a slut, letting himself feel every little detail because he trusts you. Just knowing it’s you makes it all the more hotter.

“My sweet boy-“ a kiss and a moan, “do you want more?”

His head raises so fast you’ll scare it’ll fall off, “Yes, please.”

He sounds like he’s about to cry and, god, does it make you throb. You pull his cock free from his boxers, as it aches and begs for you. It’s so pretty and wet, soaked in precum and San with his panting, flushed face is the perfect picture of desperation.

His hips buck to find friction, “Can I put it in your mouth, please? I’ll be good, just-please, can you touch me?”

You cut off his desperate pleading by stroking him once. Immediately, he’s putty in your hands. His entire body relaxes against the couch, letting you control him and letting you decide what to do about his needs. All he knows is that it’s you who’s touching him, and that’s all he needs.

The lewd sounds coming from his wet cock fill the room, making him even more light-headed. Everything he’s feeling makes him think he’s in a dream, and when your mouth sucks on his tip like a lollipop, it just makes him hit cloud nine.

His hands fly to the back of your head as you take all of him in, every inch that fills your mouth slowly sending him deeper into a frenzy.

He groans, “‘S so good, baby, I love you, thank you for taking my cock-“

You bob up and down, letting San buck his hips while his mouth shoots off whatever his 2 functioning braincells can think of. Most of it is just ‘I love you’s.’

He gasps as you take him to the back of your throat, the feeling of you gagging on him burning his insides with desire. He fucks your mouth-once, twice- before he shoots his cum down your throat.

“Fuck-I fucking love you-“ he says as he holds you still, making you take what you caused. In his mind, it’s his reward, getting to prove to you just how good you make him feel. How you’re the only one for him, and he’s the only for you.

He pants below you, face flushed and sweaty, as you let him go with a pop, “‘M so sleepy. Can you cuddle me?”

You tuck him back into his boxers before letting yourself plop onto him and wrapping your arms around him. Who can say no to San?

bom note: i think his extreme romantic needy side would come out when he’s inebriated at all. like he’s truly a lover boy at heart. also excuse my lack of knowledge on weed or if this feels ‘inaccurate’ as i literally only take edibles once in a blue moon

[ethtyn]

combination Etho & Martyn ll2 #8 reaction post:

Etho:

"i'm not in charge, i'm gonna be the first one out, here!" me fr.

MARTYN WHAT'S YOUR ANGLE. "TEAM TIME" THIS "TEAM SMITE" THAT IT COULDVE BEEN THAT FROM THE BEGINNING 😭😭😭

"we need the help, Tango, i hate to say it. and Martyn is good help." thesis statement 🫶🏻

"true that" LITERALLY WHERE is he coming up with this speech pattern. i have never heard him use as much slang as he has in this series in my life.

BDUBS NO.....IT WAS IMPULSE?! 💔

"Tango...this is MINECRAFT, why don't you have blocks?!" PLEASE.

LMAOOOOOOO HE'S MARY POPPINS, Y'ALL 💀

Tango noooooo PepeHands

Scar's out...there goes my hope that Etho got to kill him 😔

I KNOW WHAT THE VOICES IN HIS HEAD SPOILER MEANS NOW AND I'M CRYING PISSING BLOOD SLIDING DOWN THE WALL CHEWING GLASS. LMFAO.

"it's tough being alone...i'm not an entertaining person, and i have to be entertaining right now" don't you talk about my friend like that 😡😡😡

kfjdjcndk the little bitchfight between impulse and the mean gills over trying to kill each other. "yeah, that was me...okie! 😁 water under the bridge" impulse you're soooooo 💀

ETHO WHY DID YOU REMIND HIM ABOUT THE SWORD. i'm furious.

there goes BigB.

i am starting to realize that when one of y'all said "love loses" you mean Ethtyn. fuck.

FISH IN A BARREL. i just caught that.

Scott's disappointed little "Etho" gets me every time LMFAO. is this man ever surprised.

"i could just whack you off right now 😏" aYO

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOT 'ER

i'm gonna throw up. why. please.

GRIAN NO 😭 that little intake of breath right before he fell...i could cry.

I'M GONNA BE SICK I'M GONNA BE SICK. "that hurt, Martyn! apologise."

I'M GONNA THROW UPPPPPPPPPPPPP HE WAS SO CLOSE. also i was wildly distracted by the way you could hear him sit back in his chair and stretch kfdnkcmdmd

side note: i tracked down the counting clip and. uhm. 🥴 yeah.

i. need to gather some thoughts. reblog a few posts. watch martyn's episode so i can find out who won. i'm ill.

---

Martyn:

"keep your friends close and your enemies closer" type beat.

the callback to Southlanders with the "fun British game" 😭 i miss them 💔

still thinking about how Martyn made this Team TIME/SMITE decision all on his own without talking to Scott at all. like i know he's insanely loyal but. sir?

I'M FUCKING PISSING MYSELF over that Scar spleef kill. (in the most insincere voice possible) "woooow. thank you for the business!" CRYING.

thinking So Much about this little duel between BigB and Martyn as Martyn comes in to play the game. Martyn almost died, so did BigB. and then ceasefire and nskxnckdkcjkdmf my brainnnnnn.

"i'm here for games and pleasure" Scar.

HAHAHSHCNFKC LMFAOOOOO ETHO RLLY DID COME IN LIKE MARY POPPINS I'M CRYING.

fast forward to when MISE is boating off of skynet 2.0 - did not realise that Martyn asked Grian "yes or no" 😭 salt in the wound, bro.

fish in a fucking barrel fr.

ONE BLOCK 😭

jesus the way he IMMEDIATELY turns on impulse as soon as Pearl kills Etho. fanning myself.

NAUUUUUURRRRRR I COULDN'T TELL FROM ETHO'S POV BUT MARTYN REALLY DID GET THE LAST HIT ON HIM I'M.

oh god you can't see it from Martyn's POV but. "Scott, it's not fair!" i'm going to throw myself off of skynet 2.0.

what is this fucking three way death negotiation. i feel sick.

SCREAMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG. WHAT. WHAT WHAJAMXNCKKCNDMF

um. that + the end animation. i am lying down and i need to lie down. FUCK.

[calmthefuckdownalright]

I Renounce You Part 2

A/N: I realized about halfway through copying this over that it wasn’t going to fit...thankfully it’s completed so I can just make however many drafts and post it all in order. It’s 13 pages, 6,680 words, and 36,191 characters.

Inspired by @tuesday-teyz ‘s Butterfly Reign if anyone forgot, totally not canon as the series is still ongoing and this was written after Theseus destroyed a chair over Technoblade’s back.

><><><><><><><><><><><>

“Prince Theseus, this is a horrible idea.” Tubbo pinched his nose and covered his eyes with his palm. “You can’t just leave! And to involve Ranboo in this scheme could be treason!” 

“And why would that be? Because he’ll be crown prince once it’s done and I will have no place in the kingdom.” Tommy protested.

“Who’s to say he even WANTS to be crown prince?! It drove Wilbur to run away and you want to practically destroy your own family!” Tubbo glared at Tommy and Tommy glared at Tubbo.

“The crown did not do that, Emperor Philza did this. He left us both to rot under the pressure.” Tommy spat.

“And who’s to say he won’t do that to Ranboo?”

“Oh please, His Majesty has treated Ranboo more like a son than he ever has me or Wilbur!” 

“That’s not true! You don’t know what Emperor Philza has done for you both.” 

“Oh and you do?!” Tommy snapped and Tubbo recoiled.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Ranboo poked his head into the study the two had retreated to and Tommy drew his shoulders back.

“Everything is fine, Ranboo. How would you like to be crown prince?”

Everything was set. Ranboo knew his role and no matter how many times Tommy tried to fix his acting abilities but the poor boy was hardly mediocre at best.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Ranboo asked Tommy long after Tubbo had given up on trying to convince Tommy of back thwarting his plan.

“Ranboo I’ve sacrificed more than enough for this so-called family and I’d be lying if I said I won’t regret this even a little,” Tommy had responded, “But yes I am sure. It’s time I tasted the freedom I deserve and I can’t thank you enough for your part in this.” 

“Why would you thank me?” Ranboo had asked and Tommy paused on his words.

“Maybe you’ll know one day.” Tommy had decided to be vague instead. Honesty would be saved for the grand reveal Tommy predicted to happen within two days.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Lady Beau asked and set her fan on the lap of her dress. Tommy sat across from her at his desk filing paperwork and dipping quill into ink and pressing it onto paper in a cycle of boredom and sleep deprivation.

“I can’t say I have much other choice if I want to stay above insanity.” Tommy joked.

“Everyone will think you're not right in the head.” She pointed out.

“Then maybe I’ll live the rest of my life truly with only the people I can really trust. No one tip-toeing around me and second glances at everything I do. They’ll just accept my actions because I won’t be considered ‘right in the head.’” Tommy sighed and fell back in his chair. His head pounded and the crown prince became suddenly aware of how crazy his plan was.

“Will you be alright Theseus?” Lady Beau asked and Tommy paused his breath. That name. It didn’t sound right to him anymore.

“I’ll be fine Beau, and please,” Tommy sat up and folded his arms across his chest. “Call me Tommy.”

The garden was buzzing with people and Tommy bit his tongue till it practically bled. He couldn’t say anything as himself here. He was surrounded by people who were watching his very breathing pattern. Beau had floated the rumor and increased it tenfold. At this point most assumed it to be true now that the Emperor was going to adopt Ranboo and replace the Crown Prince. It was only a matter of time before some noble tried a crack at Tommy’s frail demeanor, all that was left was to put on a show.

“Prince Theseus, may I speak with you?” Duke Sam approached and startled the prince.

“Sam, I thought you returned to The Badlands already.” Tommy picked the pieces of his shattered soul and held them together with furious strength.

“No, I leave tomorrow.” The Grand Duke replied and led the Prince away with an arm around his upper back. “Walk with me, please.” He said gently.

“What is it you wished to discuss?” Tommy asked after they were out of earshot of his party.

“The rumor, about Ranboo and His Great Majesty.” Sam looked at Tommy with eyes that seemed to see right through it all. A looking glass placed in the pupil of the Grand Duke. 

Tommy stayed quiet. Something tightened in his chest. He didn’t want Sam to be the one to try and take a shot at him. Sam who had saved him from Fran, even if it wasn’t required. Sam, who loved building things and beautiful dogs. Sam, who sacrificed his future for the Badlands.

“I know it isn’t true.” He said quietly and Tommy’s world twisted. “I’ve known your father for a long time, and he would never replace you.” 

“What?” Tommy’s mouth twitched down from its regal form of neutrality just for a moment. “I’m sorry, I can’t say I believe you.” He chuckled and took a shuddering breath.

“Theseus, His Highness has never been one to cope well and losing your mother, the Empress, was enough to fully break his soul,” The Duke stepped forward to Tommy and Tommy stepped back in instinct. He was lying. He had to be. 

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Part 1 | ____ | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | (Finale)

[sunrisefairy]

My muse

Pairing: Art student!Sirius x reader Warning: NSFW! MDNI 18+, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex, if I’ve forgotten anything please let me know! Summary: Sirius is struggling with an art assignment until he finds inspiration in his girlfriend. Or the one when Sirius and reader bang on a canvas.  A/N: wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen writing challenge, I had a lot of fun with this one Jill so I hope you enjoy it too. Based of the prompt Art Sex. This article is helpful with visualising the art work!

Taglist: if you’re crossed out i couldn’t tag you @theweasleyslut​ @anxiousblanketqueen​ @accioweaslcy​ @widowdays​ @inglourious-imagines​ @garbdump​ @star-sunshine-sage​ @weelittleweasley​ @a-dusty-emerald​ @starlightkell​ @omghufflepuff​ @weasleysprincess​ @j-amespotter​ @gryffindorgirl To be added to the taglist click here 

“Oh my god this is fucking bullshit!” Sirius groans before throwing his paint brush, it landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor of his art studio.

You hear all the commotion from the kitchen and decided to check in on your boyfriend. It was nearing the end of the term and Sirius had been very agitated and snappy from all the stress.

“You okay babe?” you poke your head through the door to see Sirius standing in the middle of the room, practically death staring a half-finished painting resting on one of his wooden easels.

“Fucking bullshit,” your boyfriend mumbles, clenching and unclenching his paint stained hands.

You slowly walk up to him and wind your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his white cotton t-shirt, “wanna talk to me about it?” you whisper.

Sirius twists in your grip until he’s facing you allowing you to get a good look at him; his shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched tightly from the pressure of school and his eyebrows are furrowed which has become a regular facial expression of him the past few weeks. You reach your hand up and delicately trace the worry lines in his forehead. Sirius immediately relaxes at your touch; his faces becomes more natural and his shoulders slump. Since dating Sirius you’ve come to understand how much he struggles to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t like dumping his problems on those around him as it makes him feel like a burden. So you try your best to be patient with him and always remind him you’ll be here no matter what.

“Just stressed about school,” Sirius murmurs his eyes looking down at the floor between your bodies.

You let your hand fall down to his shoulders, lightly squeezing, “yeah? What about school?”

Sirius’ hands find their way under the t-shirt you’re wearing which evidently is one of his that you’ve stolen, he lets his fingers trace patterns on your warm skin. “Just this one assignment is making me go insane. Can’t seem to get it right.” He gestures to the canvas sitting in the middle of the room.

If you’re being honest, anything Sirius paints leaves you memorised and evokes numerous emotions from you. You are constantly telling your boyfriend how talented he is and every time he’ll roll his eyes at your compliment. “I think it looks amazing babe,” you state truthfully.

To no surprise, Sirius rolls his eyes at your comment. “yes, well you have to say that ‘cos you’re my girlfriend.”

Sirius leaves your embrace and walks back over to the painting, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning so intensely you think laser beam might shoot from his eyes and through this artwork. He starts mumbling again, irritation is laced thickly on his words, “representation of raw love,” he mocks, “what a load of utter crap. My professor is so pretentious, the only instruction he gives us for this stupid bloody assignment is ‘make a piece which represents raw love’ what does that even mean? I’ll tell you what it is, it’s fucking bullshit.”

You shuffle closer to Sirius so you’re standing at his side, both staring at his current piece. You’re not really sure how to help, you’re no artist but you hate seeing Sirius so worked up. “What are other people in your class doing for the assignment? Maybe you can gather inspiration from them?”

Sirius shrugs and stuffs his hands in his dark jeans which are covered in paint splatters, “Kirra’s doing a photography piece of her husband and kids, Gage is making some sculpture of his dog.”

“Alright,” you pause for a brief moment “well maybe think of ways people show love or how you show love, like real emotional love ya’know?” you feel like you’re grasping at straws here and making up some bullshit.

You glance over at Sirius, he’s biting his bottom lip deep in thought, you stay silent not really knowing what else to say to assist him. Slowly a look of realisation washes over your boyfriend’s face, eyes wide and a grin gracing his lips. “Holy shit baby, you’re a genius!”

Butterflies erupt deep in your belly from the praise and you giggle when Sirius starts peppering your face with tiny kisses to show his gratitude. Eventually he connects your lips together in what you thought would be a short but sweet kiss. However, you squeak in surprise when Sirius quickly deepens the kiss, his hands gripping tightly at your waist before slowly moving them down to grope at your arse.

“You should probably get working on your project then Sirius,” you breathe against his mouth, disappointed to stop things before they get too heated but you know Sirius’ inspiration comes and goes in waves and if you wait until after the two of you get off, then he might fall back into feeling unmotivated again.

“I am working on it,” you pull away confusion all over your face.

“What do you mean?” you query.

Sirius chuckles and moves away from you to move the canvas and easel to the edge of the room out of the way, he starts laying out a large piece of cream canvas fabric on the floor. “Think about it, what’s a way people show love?” he asks you, squirting numerous colours of paint carelessly onto the fabric.

“Babe there’s a lot of way people show love,” you answer puzzled, what did making out with you have to do with his piece? And why was he now squirting colours onto a blank canvas.

Sirius continues, “yes I know that but what about a raw, emotional way people show love? a primal way to show love so to speak?”

When you finally look back up at Sirius’ face you’re met with a cheeky smirk that you know all too well. It’s not until he removes his shirt do you connect the dots. “Sirius I’m not letting you fuck me on this canvas for a university project for god’s sake.”

The raven-haired boy’s grin only widens as he slowly moves closer to you, his eyes burning into your skin. You feel hot and vulnerable under his gaze, it’s like he’s stalking his prey. Your breath hitches in your throat when Sirius’ body is pressed flush against your own and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face as he speaks in a low, hushed tone, “I’m not going to fuck you,” his voice drops an octave like it does when he’s feeling horny. Just the tone of his voice alone causes a wetness to pool in your panties. “Wanna make love to you baby. Wanna show you how much I love you, can I do that darlin’?”

You bite your lip trying to swallow the moan that is threatening to spill from your mouth when Sirius starts leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. Damn Sirius Black for knowing all your weak spots.

“Just want to make you feel good baby girl,” he tugs the off t-shirt your body. “Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?”

You close your eyes and focus on Sirius’ large hands cupping and massaging your breasts tenderly, you always were putty in his hands. Fuck it you thought. “Yes, please make love to me Sirius.”

The boy grins and whispers a thank you against your skin. He takes no time in removing both of your clothes until you’re standing in front of each other naked. You and Sirius take the opportunity to study each other. You gaze over all the curves and lines on Sirius’ body, the way his muscle flex and move, the freckle on his hip bone, the tiny scar on his left shoulder, the coarse hair of his happy trail. He was beautiful, stunning, breathtaking. And he was all yours.

Sirius helps you lay down against the canvas, you gasp at the cold, squishy feeling of the paint beneath you. It feels foreign but not unwelcoming, you wriggle a little, enjoying the way the substance slides around. Sirius kneels between your legs, relishing in the way your chest is already rising and falling frantically from arousal, “so gorgeous darlin,” he traces a finger down from your collar bone all the way to your core finding it soaked already.

You squirm when Sirius teases your entrance with his finger, the cold paint moving and mixing into the canvas under you. A quiet whine escapes your lips the moment Sirius pushes his index finger inside you and starts pumping it steadily.

“Need you to be loud for me baby, want to know how good I make you feel ‘kay?” Sirius commands trying to get into a comfortable position in between your spread legs, his body sliding slighting from the paint.

You answer him with a loud moan. Soon Sirius has added 2 more fingers into the mix causing you to wriggle and rock your hips into his hand, “so good Sirius, fuck.”

With his free hand, Sirius grips your thigh trying to keep you still, blue paint smears against the soft flesh of your thigh and Sirius is captured by how striking you look laying here right now, chest flushed, and eyes closed. The way your body is squirming from pleasure is causing the paint on the canvas to blend and mix together. Sirius scoops up some red paint from the fabric and swipes it across your breasts and over your nipples, “so pretty.” He mumbles tugging and pinching your nipples.

“Sirius,” you pant desperately, “please. Need more.”

Sirius withdraws his fingers earning a whine from you and strokes his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance, “shh darlin’. M’here to make you feel good, yeah? Want me to make you feel good?”

You wrap your legs around him urging him to finally push into you. You needed it, needed to feel Sirius stretch you out and fill you up with his cock, needed to hear Sirius gasp and groan into your ear, needed to feel him rock his hips into yours, “please Sirius.”

With a low groan escapes from both of you when Sirius finally pushes into you, Sirius begins thrusting his hips deep and slow into yours, both of your relishing in the feeling and sensation coursing your bodies. Hands around running along the others body, squeezing, tugging, scratching at skin, leaving traces of paint in its wake. Sirius has buried his head in the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, mumbling how beautiful you look spread out for him.

Deeper, you need it deeper. Wrapping your legs tightly around your boyfriend, you manage to roll the two of you over, Sirius underneath you with you straddling his waist, allowing you to bounce of his cock. From this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, his hard cock prodding at that sponging spot inside of you. The pure affection and love the two of you feel for each other was unmistakeable in this moment. The tenderness and intimacy of this act made your toes tingle and heart warm in your chest.

Continuing to bounce up and down on Sirius cock, you take a second to watch the boy below you, the only word seemingly fitting to describe him was angelic. His dark locks are sprawled out around the canvas, a mixture of red, blue and purple paint framing his body as well as splotches on his skin. His eyes are trained on yours, a look set in them that you’ve come to be familiar with, undying love.

You lower your head to connect your lips together, wanting-no needing to feel close, to feel connected.

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly against Sirius’ pink lips. You feel that familiar euphoric sensation creeping up on you, Sirius’ cock hitting your g-spot every time you lower your body.

Sirius’ grips your waist tight and firmly, his own hips slamming up into you, “I love you too baby, so much.” He can feel your pussy clenching around him, he watches the way your breasts bounce between your bodies, he reaches his head forward to latch his mouth onto your nipple, sucking and licking on the sensitive bud. The noises slipping from your mouth makes his cock twitch.

“Sirius,” you pant threading your fingers through his dark hair to keep him close to your body.

Your body feels like it’s on fire and ready to combust, your legs trembling, and you know you won’t last much longer with the way Sirius is suckling at your nipple and he knows it.

“Want you to cum for me darlin, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” he groans into your breast, sucking and licking at your salty skin.

The coil in the pit of your belly snaps and with a load high pitched whine you’re releasing all over Sirius’ cock, your pussy clenching and legs shaking from the stimulation. After your release, it only takes Sirius a few more thrusts until he’s following suit, his load shooting and filling you up, a string of I love you’s tumbling from both of your mouths.

You collapse onto Sirius’ chest, neither of you make any effort to move even once your breathing has settled. Laying here with Sirius made you feel safe and protected. The way his index finger was trailing up and down your spine made you shiver, and you could feel him kissing your scalp gently. Undeniably, there was love radiating from his body, you could feel it and you only hope he could feel it radiating from yours too.

~~~

“Hey guys, that painting hanging up in the bedroom is new, yeah?” James questions, traipsing back into the living room where the rest of the group was.

You feel a heat rise in your cheeks when you realise which painting the bespectacled boy is referring too. Sirius nods pulling you tighter into his side.

“Did you paint that one Pads?” Remus asks. Most, if not all the artwork displayed in yours and Sirius’ home was created by him. It normally took a bit of persuading Sirius to let you hang up his work, he didn’t like to come across as cocky. But as soon as this canvas was dried and stretched onto a frame Sirius wasted no time in mounting it; above your shared bed, him claiming it ‘gets him in the mood whenever he looks at it’ (and he really wasn’t lying).

The boy beside you grins and plants a sloppy kiss against your cheek, “me and Y/N painted that one,” he says teasingly.

You shoot him a death glare warning him to keep his big mouth shut. “Don’t,” you mouth.

“That’s so cool! Didn’t know you were so artistic Y/N!” James exclaims excitedly, clearly impressed by the painting.

Sirius chuckles loudly pinching your side making you yelp, “oh she’s very talented when he comes to that type of stuff. I think we might need to make another piece together babe, what do you think?”

[todrokishoto]

bnha boys x tickles

character(s): bakugou, deku, denki, kirishima, todoroki

warning(s): tickles, blood (nosebleed), swearing? 

a/n: random idea i had. enjoy this hc/scenario thing while i work on some longer fics. p.s. i’ve never really written headcannons before so idk if i did it right lmao

B A K U G O U 

mans isn’t ticklish 

trained himself to tolerate it bc being ticklish is for the weak 

won’t tell you that tho bc it’s a valid excuse sometimes ok??

like,,, let’s say you’re tracing mindless patterns on his abdomen right

the two of you are just lying on his bed in his dorm room

and while it might have been innocent enough on your part

he can’t help but be... flustered as your hand moves awfully close to the waistband of his pants 

feeling his cheeks heat up, straight up refusing to let you see how much your touch affects him, he swats your hand away with a grunt

“that tickles, dumbass,” he huffs, his voice slightly strained. you pretend not to notice. 

your eyebrows lift upward in surprise at his statement. not once had he ever mentioned he was ticklish. propping yourself up on your elbow, you let your eyes trail over his features, studying him. 

his eyes are closed but only after mere seconds of feeling your gaze, they open back up. his crimson orbs stare into yours, neither one of you breaking the prolonged silence. you, frankly, didn’t want to. bakugou, on the other hand, refused to - fully aware his voice would betray him again. 

he couldn’t believe he had just lied about being ticklish. but, letting you believe your soft touches had tickled him rather than admitting they made him feel things he know he shouldn’t seemed like the most logical option. yes. there was no way he’d reveal his less than innocent thoughts. 

“what?” he grumbles, quirking a brow questioningly. “take a picture. it’ll last longer.” 

you fish your phone out of your pocket, holding it up above him. “okay—” 

your words turn into a squeal as he smacks the phone out of your hand and grabs your arm, pinning it above your head. he hovers above you, eyes full of mischievousness, his teeth exposed by the grin dancing on his lips. you stare back up at him, eyes wide, body tense as you attempt to gauge his next movements.

“how ‘bout a taste of your own medicine, huh? since you seem to find it so funny.” 

and before you can protest, his fingertips dig into your sides, eliciting careless giggles from you as he tries his best to find your most ticklish spots. 

K A M I N A R I 

would tickle you on the daily just to hear your laugh

pls he’s a total sucker for your squealing giggles. they’re his favorite

this boy will find any excuse to tickle you; pinching your sides, blowing raspberries on your stomach while lying in your lap - you name it 

one of his favorite ways is to use just a teeny tiny bit of his electricity, making the ticklish that much more unbearable 

we all know his love language is physical touch, so he just can’t help himself really

but don’t even think about tickling him. boy will practically screm bloody murder and literally run away from you like a child running away from their parent when it’s time for bed 

you’re bored. so bored, in fact, that you’re even thinking about purposefully provoking your boyfriend’s explosive friend just for some entertainment. you quickly scrap the idea, not feeling like being the target of his harsh words today. 

your boredom quickly dissipates, however, as the yellow locks of your boyfriend come into view. he’s chatting animatedly with kirishima and sero, his back facing you. you put a finger to your lips as a pair of red eyes look at you curiously. luckily, the redhead understands and says nothing as you sneak up to the table they’re currently seated at. 

“hey, babe!” you greet loudly, your voice dripping with fake innocence. 

before he can turn around, your hands are at his sides, pinching and poking with all their might. an odd sound - something between a gasp and a grunt - escapes your boyfriend at the feeling and he flails his arms, desperately trying to escape your hold. 

you underestimated just how ticklish your electric partner is, it seems. because before you can dodge it and sero can warn you, denki pushes his chair backward, knocking you over in the process. your boyfriend whips around immediately at the sound of your body colliding with the floor. 

“oh my god, baby, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean—” his apology trails off at the sound of your loud laughter. 

you’re clutching your stomach with one hand, attempting (but to no avail) to silence your laughter with the other. denki rubs the back of his neck, eyes full of confusion, while he tries to regain his breath from your surprise attack. once again, he catches you off-guard as he crouches down next to you, his fingers finding your tickle spot with ease. 

your laughter gets louder and he smirks. “not so funny now, is it?” 

K I R I S H I M A

mans has a hardening quirk

aka he can just harden his skin, so tickling him is basically impossible 

once in awhile, when he knows you just want revenge for the times you’ve been tickled by him, he won’t activate his power 

but still, he barely chuckles, which makes you frustrated™

he doesn’t really tickle you on purpose that often tho bc that’s not manly

will tickle you accidentally while rubbing your arms or breathing on your neck while cuddling 

you’ll squirm in his hold and he will just apologize with a laugh and hold you tighter

you sigh, shuffling ever-so-slightly, stuck within your boyfriend’s tight grasp. the two of you had been cuddling on one of the sofas in the common room, but he had succumbed to his exhaustion and had fallen asleep next to you.

normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. you had no issue being his pillow once in awhile and his cute, little snores made it impossible for you to wake him. today, however, he had fallen asleep in the crook of your neck and his soft breaths were tickling you. with every exhale, your body tensed as you tried your best to remain still.

“kiri,” you whisper, his nickname slipping past your lips with gentleness. “babe, wake up.” 

he stirs at the sound of your voice, his breathing halting momentarily. you wait in suspense but he only buries his face further into your neck, a long breath fanning against your exposed skin. you squirm instinctively. your movements must have alerted something in him because he begins shuffling shortly after. 

you can’t see his face but you can tell by his breathing that he’s slowly but surely waking up. you practically hold your breath, praying that he will move before you have to voice your discomfort. unfortunately, luck isn’t on your side it seems. 

“kiri, i love you, but please move,” you plead, pushing against his chest softly. his red eyes are filled with confusion as he props himself up to look at you. “you’ve been tickling my neck for the past fifteen minutes. i was going insane.” 

he pouts then. “aw, babe, you should’ve told me. you could’ve woken me up, y’know?” 

“yeah, i know,” you sigh, rubbing your neck where his breathing had been just a few seconds prior. “i just didn’t want to wake you, is all. you’re so cute when you sleep.” 

“you’re cuter,” he quips enthusiastically, poking your nose with his index finger. “okay, your turn to cuddle me instead. i’m not ticklish so lay wherever you want.” 

M I D O R I Y A

i feel like this broccoli bean would be ticklish everywhere?

either that or he’s not ticklish at all

maybe his body’s been beaten so many times that his nerve-endings are either overly sensitive or they barely feel anything 

idk™ BUT

sweet, freckled little izuku would also not tickle you without consent

we stan a respective king 

he would be so careful to apply a little bit of a firmer pressure to not tickle you

sweetie had been to flustered to ask if you were ticklish when you first started dating and it was too late to ask now 

you’re sitting next to him on the gras outside of the doors, relishing the feeling of the nice evening air against your skin. the two of you are chatting mindlessly. well, izuku’s doing most of the talking and you’re mainly listening, but you don’t mind at all. 

his arm is grasped between your two hands as you gently trace the scattered freckles and scars adorning his skin. he had been so flustered when you had grabbed it, unable to will the redness away from his cheeks. you had only giggled in response. 

izuku didn’t know why you seemed to be so fascinated by his scars. you had always asked questions about them, wondering if he remembered where he got them. always made sure to call him handsome on days where he was particularly bothered by the markings on his body. 

he loved it. he loved you. 

but as your continue to trace them, your touch featherlight, he can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine. he squirms, his hand clenching together and forming a fist. you take notice and halt your actions immediately. he turns to look at you, meeting your wide eyes. 

“did i do something wrong?” you ask quietly, feeling the guilt claw its way to your chest. 

“no!” he practically shouts, his voice a few octaves higher than normal. he clears his throat. “n-no, you didn’t. it’s just that... heh. i’m, uh, kind of sensitive in certain spots, i guess? and while i really don’t mind you touching my scars, you were so gentle and i-i just... it tickled.”

his chin tilts toward the floor, his bashful gaze flickering away from yours. you notice the pink dusting across his freckled cheeks but decide not to point it out, desperate to make your boyfriend feel at ease again. 

“zuku, say that next time! i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to tickle you. i didn’t even know you were ticklish, to be honest.”

he rubs his neck, peering over at you once again. he grins sheepishly. “i-i never told you, i guess. usually, i’m able to resist the urge to squirm, um, like that.”

“you’re so cute!” you gush, grabbing ahold of his hand once again. “i’m ticklish too, y’know. but i’ll let you find my tickle spots on your own.”

and, for the umpteenth time that night, your boyfriend blushes as he thinks about exploring your body to find your very own tickle spots. 

T O D O R O K I 

we all know he had a shitty childhood fck u endeavor

he never had tickle fights with his parents or siblings when he was little

so poor bby probably doesn’t even know he’s ticklish until you accidentally find his weak spot one day

let’s say you’re both cuddling in your bed right?? and things are getting a little heated 

so,,, you detach your lips from his, placing a kiss on his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck

and let me tell you - this poor boy doesn’t know what to do 

he tenses up immediately, slamming his chin down to protect his exposed neck, his jaw banging against your nose in the process 

“y/n!” he calls out immediately, chest heaving, his body still tense as if on high alert. he reaches out to you when he spots you holding your nose, your brows furrowed in discomfort. “i’m so sorry. i don’t— are you alright?” 

you nod, releasing a hum to confirm your response. your nose is throbbing, but when you open your eyes and meet shoto’s wide bicolored ones, your pain subsides quickly. poor boy looks so helpless - torn between reaching out for you and distancing himself. 

“hey, sho, it’s okay. i’m alright,” you remove your hand clutching your nose to shoot him a smile but you stop midway, noticing the crimson liquid on your palm. 

“you’re bleeding,” your boyfriend observes quietly, the guilt obvious in his voice. “i hurt you. i’m so sorry. i... what you did made me feel weird and my body just reacted. i, uh, i’m sorry.” 

he scrambles out of your bed, reaching for the box of tissues he knows you have stashed in your desk. he hands you a handful of them, awkwardly lingering by the foot of the bed as you wrap the paper over your nose, clamping your fingers shut around it.

you shake your head with a gentle laugh. “sho, it’s okay. i didn’t know you were ticklish there. i can’t really control what my body does when i’m tickled either, so i don’t blame you.” 

“ticklish?” he repeats aloud, almost as if testing out the word. 

you nod, the innocence of your boyfriend once again surprising you. you feel your heart ache slightly at the thought of him not knowing what the action is. had nobody ever touched him enough for him to find his tickle spots? 

“yeah. most people are ticklish somewhere on their body. usually either on their waist, their armpits, feet or neck - like you. it’s normal. typically, when people are touched where they’re ticklish, they’ll squirm and laugh.” 

he nods and you remain quiet as he processes the information. then, much to your bewilderment, he leans forward and grabs ahold of your side with his fingertips. he pinches gently and you jerk, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend smiling harmlessly. 

“so, is that your tickle spot, then?”  

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Modern au where feyre and Rhys are roommates and she accidentally kisses him

I Do Bad Things with You

Smut//2486 words

“Gods, do you ever shut up?” Feyre snapped.

Not that she was actually angry. She pissed at herself if anything, for being so fucking wet for her piece-of-shit roommate, even when he was being annoying.

Rhys just smirked. “I was only saying-”

“That maybe next time I should come home earlier so I don’t interrupt your beauty sleep with my loud stomping,” cut in Feyre.

When Rhys had seen her miniskirt and red lipstick, he knew exactly where she was headed. And he had preceded to comment on how loud she had been last time she’d returned from hooking up with some guy - Isaac maybe? - when she had apparently very noisily awoken him in the early hours of the morning.

Rhys winced. “I was only suggesting you try to be a bit more mindful of your surroundings-”

Feyre interrupted once more. “Mindful of my surroundings? Like all the times you’ve brought home some girl and made her scream in the room literally right across from mine? Do you know how hard it is to get to sleep with earbuds in at the loudest volume so you don’t have to hear your annoying roommate fucking some random chick?”

Rhys didn’t even have to decency to look embarrassed. He just smirked that smug smirk of his and said, “They certainly seem to enjoy it, don’t they?”

“Good lord,” Feyre muttered. Though while she may fake irritation, something tight coiled in her gut. Thinking back on the noises those women made, they did seem to enjoy it. And Feyre couldn’t stop herself from wondering what kind of noises Rhys could draw out of her.

Rhys and Feyre had moved in together totally by accident. Feyre’s best friend Mor had set up this whole situation just to bother her, probably, being Rhys’ cousin. She had thought they could become friends at first, and when he had turned out to be a smirky, egotistical jerk, avoiding him had seemed the better option. But Rhys was always there; helping Feyre with random shit, flirting, bothering her when she told him to piss off, flirting some more...

And now he somehow had the nerve to point out his skills in the bedroom right after criticizing Feyre’s ability to walk without sounding like Bigfoot.

“How about this?” Feyre started. “I’ll remember to tiptoe when I come home. You stop bringing ladies who don’t know how to be quiet into our apartment. And we end this conversation becasue I am really not in the mood right now.”

Rhys sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if you also promise to stop being so rude. I’ve only ever been nice to you, Feyre.”

If anyone else had said something like that, Feyre would have felt like shit. She never meant to hurt anyone’s feelings (unless they really deserved it). But from the mischievous twinkle in Rhys’ eyes, she knew he was just trying to provoke her. Bastard.

“Go fuck yourself,” Feyre said flatly, and took a step toward the door. Past Rhys.

And, of course, she tripped over the edge of the rug. Because nothing in this fucking apartment could be easy. Not with him.

Feyre slammed into Rhys with a shriek, and they both hit the ground. Rhys had cushioned Feyre’s fall, so she wasn’t hurt or anything. Not that that’s what she thinking about right now. Not when she fell so hard her face slammed into him. Her lips.

Feyre was kissing Rhysand. And even though she’d imagined this far too many times before, she could not enjoy it. One, because their faces being violently slammed together wasn’t exactly pleasurable. And two, because she was freaked out.

She jolted up into a sitting position. On Rhys. Oh lord, was Feyre really straddling Rhysand Night in the middle of the kitchen floor?

When they’d fallen, limbs had gone flying. It wasn’t just their lips that had accidentally touched. Rhys’ hands were under the bottom of Feyre’s skirt. On her bare ass. And she was literally sitting on his dick.

“Um, sorry,” Feyre squeaked. Her face was definitely bright red. And her ears. And her neck. Any yet, for some incomprehensible reason, she wasn’t scrambling off of him. She was just sitting on him, with her hands on his chest, paralyzed.

Rhys also seemed to be paralyzed, because his hands were not moving from her ass cheeks. For the first time since Feyre had met him, he actually looked flustered. He was also blushing, and there was a shocked expression on his features.

“You’re fine,” he croaked in reply.

Feyre brain finally started functioning. “Oh gods, I should-”

She stopped speaking and pulled her hands away from Rhys’ chest. He yanked his hands out of her skirt. Just when Feyre was about to slide off of him, however, she felt something. Underneath her.

Rhys was getting hard.

From the panicked look on his face, Feyre knew he realized what she had felt. “Shit, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re fine,” Feyre said, repeating his earlier words. Her voice was strangely calm, indifferent even to her own ears. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them, but Feyre felt no regret. Only lust coursed through her mind right now.

Rhys blinked. “What?”

“Well I have really wanted you to fuck me for a while, and this whole situation is turning me on, but since that could be nothing and I could end up doing something that makes you uncomfortable, I’m asking. Do you want to have sex with me?” The words were so matter-of-fact. This is it, Feyre realized. This is the breaking point. I’ve finally reached insanity.

That blood-heating smirk found its way back to Rhys’ face, and she knew exactly what his answer was. “How long exactly is a while, darling?”

Feyre placed her hands on Rhys’ chest once more. “Too fucking long.”

He put his hands on her hips, keeping Feyre steady as she started to grind against his erection, needing pressure on that one spot.

“You’re a piece of shit, Rhysand. You know that? You smirk at me and you walk around shirtless all the time like there isn’t a horny girl sharing your apartment and you bring home all those girls like you want me like hear. Like you want me to know what you can do to me. It drives me crazy.” Feyre punctuated this little speech with a relatively hard roll of her hips, making Rhys let out a small groan.

“Of course I was doing it for you,” he murmured. “I wanted you to know what I had to offer.”

“You’re such a dick,” Feyre replied, reaching for the buttons of her blouse, hurriedly undoing them.

Once Feyre slung her shirt into the ground, Rhys flipped them. It was so fast, Feyre had no chance to protest (not that she would have), and in a split second, Rhys had her pinned to the floor.

“Surely I’m not the only one here in the business of teasing the other?” Rhys breathed in her ear, his hands tracing patterns on her thighs. “You strut around in those little skirts even when you’re not going out. You think I’ve never had to resist the urge to slam you against the wall?”

Feyre sighed as Rhys started trailing his lips along her neck. “Hmm, maybe we should, oh, um, we’re still on the floor, Rhys.” She didn’t know if what she said was even comprehensible to him, it was so muddled.

Rhys frowned against her neck. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Archeron?”

Feyre frowned as well. “My definition of adventure happens to be different than yours, that’s all. I typically don’t enjoy having sex on a rug that neither of us have vacuumed for a really long time.”

Rhys let out an exaggerated sigh and stood, bringing Feyre with him. She wrapped her legs tightly around his torso, marveling in how easy that had been for him. Of course, she’d noticed how ripped he was. How many hours he spent at the gym. She always noticed.

Feyre slung her arms around his neck. Rhys pulled Feyre’s face back to him as he started walking toward the hall. His lips crushed into hers, and she started grinding against him once more as his tongue parted her lips. The man certainly knew how to multitask.

They reached a room - Feyre’s - and Rhys carefully set her down on the bed. He flipped the lamp on and surveyed the scene in front of him: Feyre in a miniskirt and a barely-there bra, sprawled across the sheets, with her hair fanning across her shoulders.

“Take your clothes off.”

As much as Feyre wanted to do as he said, as much as she wanted to obey, she wasn’t just backing down. Rhys was a pain in the ass and he needed a serious ego check.

“Don’t you want the pleasure?” She asked twirling a strand of hair in her fingers and sliding her tongue across her lips, wetting them.

Rhys frowned. “Take off your clothes.” He only repeated what he’d just said, but there was no room for argument.

Feyre’s breath caught, and she just couldn’t stop herself anymore. She unclasped the bra, then slid out of her skirt. Her panties came next. She tried to move slowly, wanting to tease him, but it was so hard to be patient. The whole process, Rhys just watched, tracing her curves with his eyes.

“Good girl,” he muttered once she finished, and Feyre felt a fire light inside of her. She pressed her thighs together, a pathetic attempt at quenching the ache.

Rhys noted the movement with a twitch of his lips. Then he got on his knees.

Feyre barely suppressed a gasp as Rhys grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He pressed a gentle, teasing kiss against her thigh, and Feyre spread her legs as far as she could.

She was on her elbows, watching him lick a trail up her thigh, still not going where she needed, and Rhys was holding her gaze the entire time.

A smirk was the only warning she got before Rhys dipped his head into her center. Just when Feyre was thinking Rhys had given in, all she got was a light kiss to her clit, the most pleasurable and frustrating sensation she had ever experienced. It was enough to drive her insane.

“Rhys,” Feyre urged, “do something.”

“Do what? This?” Rhys asked, licking a stripe up her center.

Feyre moaned. “Yes,” she breathed.

“And how about this?” Rhys flicked her clit with his forefinger, making Feyre cry out.

“More,” was all she could gasp, fingers clenching around the sheets.

Rhys’ wicked mouth started moving, tasting her, eating her alive. His tongue slid inside of her and Feyre groaned loudly, falling back against the sheets. Her eyes closed and she cried out in ecstasy as a finger entered her, then another.

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, gods,” Feyre cried out.

He spoke up, his breath caressing her folds. “Do you like that, darling?”

“Please,” she murmured. “Please make me come.”

“You behave so well,” Rhys commented, rubbing her clit slowly. “I wonder who taught you how to use such good manners.”

Feyre whimpered. A nearly incomprehensible string of pleases kept falling from her mouth, along with curses and cries of his name.

Rhys started pumping his fingers hard, sucking on her clit. He curved his fingers just so and let his tongue dart out and taste her once more, and everything shattered.

Feyre screamed, clenching her thighs together around Rhys’ head. He didn’t seem to mind; he just kept licking and sucking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, working Feyre through her orgasm.

Once the room stopped shaking and Feyre could see clearly again, she noticed Rhys pulling his clothing off until he was bare before her. She regained enough movement to reach for his cock as he crawled on the bed, wanting to taste him like he had tasted her, but he gently swatted her hand away.

“There’s plenty of time for that later, darling,” Rhys purred, settling over her pinning her arms to the bed.

But Feyre wasn’t giving up. She hooked a leg around his waist and used her momentum to roll them over, so that she was on top.

Rhys grinned, surprised but pleased to let this play out. Feyre kissed his neck, enjoying the contented sigh that came from his mouth. She started moving her mouth up, kissing and licking as she went.

She reached his jawline and made her way to his mouth. Unable to resist, she nipped his lower lip. Rhys growled at her and tightened his grip on her hips, but he didn’t reprimand her further.

Feyre moaned as she felt his cock press against her folds and she scrambled off of him, reaching in her nightstand drawer to grab a condom. Turning back to Rhys, she expertly rolled the condom on his length while he tweaked her nipple, making her usually-steady fingers fumble.

Feyre climbed back on top and lifted her hips over Rhys’ cock. He steadied her with his hands on her waist, murmuring a “good girl” as she lowered herself. They both sighed in pleasure as Feyre slowly sunk down all the way, fully sitting on him now.

Rhys let out a groan as Feyre started to rock her hips, adjusting to his size. She rested her hands on his chest and started moving more, really riding him now.

“You look so hot bouncing on my cock,” Rhys praised, slamming his hips up into hers.

Feyre moaned loudly, digging her nails into his skin. She tried to move faster, harder, seeking another orgasm, desperate for release.

Rhys flipped them, not stopping the movements of his hips. He thrusted harder, fully in control now. Feyre was moaning nonstop, propably leaving small scratches all over his back. Rhys seemed to relish in the sensation, thrusting harder.

She moved one hand between their bodies, circling her own clit. Feyre moaned and pressed harder, craving release.

One more thrust from Rhys had Feyre tumbling off that cliff, groaning as she went. Her whole body shook, and Rhys kept going.

“You’re doing so good, baby, so good. I’m almost there.” Feyre’s orgasm was drawn out even further at the sound of Rhys’ commending tone, loving the sound of him taking to her.

Feyre felt Rhys’ cock twitch as he found his own release, sighing against her shoulder. He withdrew from Feyre’s entrance and sat back. She was barely conscious as Rhys took care of the condom and walked back over to her.

Rhys leaned down resting his lips against her ear. “I hope you sleep well, darling,” he whispered with that smug tone of his.

And then Feyre drifted off to sleep, hardly registering the sound of Rhys padding out of her room.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

[tudorstella]

Vegas Lights // H.S One Shot

cw // sex club, use of toys, edging, oral (f receiving)

Vegas.

I just finished the first show of the tour and feel like I’m on top of the world. Absolutely nothing will beat the adrenaline rush I feel when I walk out onto that stage, hearing fans scream at the top of their lungs for me and sing along to the songs I wrote.

I’ve always had a bit of a thing for praise.

After saying my thanks to the band and crew for helping put on such an amazing performance, I make my way back to my dressing room to clean up a bit. Every time I’m in Vegas I make a special stop to a club on the strip. It’s the type of club where I have to go in through the back door because the publicity if the world saw Harry Styles walking into “Vegas Lights” would be absolutely insane.

I don’t plan on changing because there’s something about the shiny pink vest I’m wearing that makes me feel more confident than ever.

I make sure that I’m quick in cleaning up considering it’s already nearing one in the morning and I can’t help but get excited in anticipation.

The drive there was only about 15 minutes and as I walk in through the back door, I’m met with the smell of sex and cigarettes. A smell I would never get tired of.

As I walk through the club, no one pays any mind to me, too busy in their own doings. That is until I sit down at one of the couches near the corner right in front of a stage with a pole in the center.

As soon as I sit down a woman approaches me wearing one of the filthiest pieces of lingerie I think I’ve ever seen. It’s a brighter pink that nearly matches the color of my outfit and stands out against her tanned skin and it looks like it took at least three people to get on. From the straps that lay just around but don’t cover her tits, to the lace around her midsection that straps onto the tights that go to her mid thigh, and the tiny panties that show more than they cover, all tied together with a choker with a metal heart in the middle of it, I can’t stop staring.

Bold in her movements, she comes to stand between my spread legs from my leaned back position on the couch and leans forward so far that our noses are nearly touching. I have trouble keeping my breathing steady and when she speaks, my breath hitches slightly which she definitely notices by the smile that spreads on her face.

“Hi,” she whispers near my ear and it sends immediate shivers down my spine.

“Hi” I simply reply back and watch as dimples indent into her cheeks from my meek demeanor. I lift my hands up to place them on her hips but stop myself to ask if I can. Before I can get the words out though she puts her hands on mine and places them on her hips before moving her hands back to the couch behind my head.

I’ve always found myself to be a little shy when first starting out with someone new, I usually let them take control until we’ve found a working rhythm and can read each other's bodys without having to say anything. That’s when I like to take control back.

Rather than leaning over me, she moves her knees so they’re on either side of my hips and sits down practically right on top of my dick. The sudden movement makes me tilt my head back slightly and close my eyes.

She begins to move her hips in a teasing pattern and I know she feels my dick harden underneath her because she pushes herself down further to apply more pressure. “I’m Kerr” she says to me and I barely catch it, too caught up in the restricted pleasure she’s giving me.

“H-Harry” I manage to stutter out while looking straight into her eyes and she lets a smile spread on her face again.

“Yeah, kinda got that. Your face has been plastered all over the strip for weeks now. First show was tonight, yeah?” She asks me while continuously grinding down onto me. The feeling is starting to become unbearable but god it feels so good. I finally process what she says and can feel my cheeks heat up knowing that she recognized me.

“Ye- Uh, yes. Yeah. Got off stage not even an hour ago.”

As she continued to grind down on me, she leaned in closer so her lips were right by my ear. “What a filthy boy. Tell me Harry, did it get you off? All those people screaming for you? What would your fans think if they knew you were here right now?”

I let out an involuntary moan at her words that had me cringing as soon as it left my mouth. Another large smile tugs up on her lips and she stops her movements on my lap.

“Well since you got to put on a show tonight, I think it’s only fair I give you one now” before I even get to say anything, she’s taking my hands off her waist and standing up to walk onto the small stage in front of me.

I whine at the loss of contact but soon relieve it by working my hand down to my dick, applying pressure in the same way Kerr just was with her hips. When she gets up on the stage, I take note of the heels I didn’t notice she had on earlier. They were white stilettos but the strap around the ankle was a chain.

With confidence oozing from her, she begins to work her way around the pole as I watch in awe, palming myself through the fabric of my pants. Soon enough though, the throbbing I feel soon becomes unbearable so I stand up and walk closer to the stage.

At eye level with her hips, nothing between us but a pole, I leave a small kiss right underneath the strap of her thong resting on the left side of her hip. “C’mon Kerr, why don’t we go to a room?”

I go to grab her waist and help her down from the stage but before I can even get a hand on her, I feel her push her heel against my chest. “I don’t know Harry, I don’t think that sounded convincing enough. How bad do you want it?”

“So bad.”

The words that come out of her mouth next send my heart racing and I can feel my dick twitch from the confines of my boxers at the thought of even doing what she just asked me to.

“Then beg.”

No one has ever asked me to do that before, but I want to. So I do.

“Please Kerr, please take me back to a room. I’ll be good and listen, do whatever you want. Please” I pathetically beg and she lifts her shoe off of my chest and gets off the stage, not even looking back at me before she starts walking away towards the private rooms.

I hurry to follow behind her like a lost little puppy.

I’m not a stranger to these rooms and have been back here multiple times but this time feels extremely different. Usually at this point I have control and am telling someone what to do but right now, I am completely at her mercy.

If she told me to sit in the corner and watch as she fucked herself, I would go sit in that corner in a heartbeat.

The room she choses is bigger than the ones I’ve been in before. There is a large canopy bed in the middle of the room with a couch towards the left, a sex swing on the right, and a large TV screen on the wall in front of the bed. The wall that the TV is hanging on is one large mirror and over towards the corner there is a stripper pole next to a chest full of all different kinds of toys.

I like to come to this club whenever I’m in Vegas because I know they keep everything clean. You have to be checked for any form of STD before you’re even allowed in the club, and they sterilize every single thing in every room after every use, even if something isn’t used.

When I finally take in my surroundings, Kerr walks up to me and walks us backwards until the back of my legs hit the bed. I sit down and she straddles my lap once more before pushing my shoulders so I’m fully laying down.

“Now, wait here while I go get some things. Any suggestions?” She says as she gets up off of my lap and walks towards the chest in the corner of the room.

All that’s running through my mind right now is that I want her to tie me up but I’m scared to say it and make a fool out of myself. She can definitely read my hesitancy though because before she grabs any toys, she comes back over to the bed and sits beside me.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed Harry. I’m not judging you, we’re both here to enjoy ourselves. So why don’t you tell me what you want to do” I’ve been here countless times before to know that she’s telling the truth and I never felt like this before so I don’t know what’s different about tonight.

I feel my palms get sweaty and I flicker my eyes between hers out of pure anxiety centered towards her question.

“Okay, how about you just go grab it for me? Maybe once we get into it you’ll feel a little less shy” I nod my head at her suggestion and walk towards the chest to grab a pair of handcuffs to bring back to the bed.

“I want you to use these on me. I-If you want” I say as I crawl back on the bed and hand them to her, moving closer to the headboard.

“Y’know, I was gonna grab these too” she tells me while guiding my hands up to the bars of the headboard to connect my hands to them with the handcuffs. When I feel the tight pull on my wrists, I throw my head back in this newfound pleasure.

Once the handcuffs are secured around my wrists, I maneuver my body so I’m laying down. I feel much more comfortable now that we’ve gotten that out of the way and I’m ready to be at her mercy.

She walks back over to the chest and pulls out a wand vibrator and comes back over to the bed but before she gets on it, she pulls down her thong and I can see from where I’m laying on the bed that she’s already soaked.

Getting up onto the bed, she throws one leg over me and is straddling my waist just below my butterfly tattoo and leaning back so I have a direct view of her exposed center. “Now, because you were so desperate to get me in here, you’re gonna watch me get myself off first and maybe then I’ll help you out.”

I whine at the idea of watching her get off and really can’t be bothered about the fact that I’m not receiving anything physical because I’m blessed to just be in the same room as her. I look her up and down and take the time to admire her but my thoughts are quickly interrupted when I hear a faint buzzing right before I see her push the vibrator up against her clit.

She slightly arches her back at the contact and the sight alone makes my eyes close, to be met with a slap on the chest. “Eyes open Harry, watch me.” I shoot my eyes open and watch as she lets the vibrator get her off.

This goes on for a couple more minutes until it seems as if she got bored of the toy because she tossed it to the side and scooted herself up so she was sitting on my butterfly. “I like this tattoo, is there any meaning behind it?” she asks.

I’m in an almost hazy state and can’t wrap my head around the fact that she’s asking such a personal question in a time like this but despite my confusion, I answer anyway. “Well when I was little I always ha- oh fuck” as I’m answering her question she begins to grind down on my fucking tattoo and I can feel how wet she is.

Too blissed out in the feeling of her on top of me, I don’t even notice when she picks the vibrator back up until I hear it buzzing again. This time though, she doesn’t bring it to her clit, she reaches behind her and places it on my cock that has been aching to be touched ever since she got off of me outside on the couches.

“Fuck Kerr! Feels s’good. Please leave it there, please” I arch my back up in pleasure as I speak and try to reach down to grab her waist but the handcuffs prevent me from doing so. She turns the speed on the vibrator up while she continues to grind down on top of my butterfly which elicits a string of moans from me and right as I feel like I’m about to reach my high, she pulls away.

She turns the vibrator off and stills on top of my waist as her legs shake by each of my hips. I let out a pathetic whine from the way she pushed me right to the very edge just to stop at the last moment.

I let her recover from the high she just felt but as soon as she’s able to get up, I decide it’s finally time to take control.

“Kerr, take the handcuffs off.”

She immediately does as I say and as soon as I have feeling in my arms again, I flip us around so she’s below me.

“You thought that was really cute, yeah? Edging me? I really did think I was gonna give up all control tonight, but I think I’d like some back. That okay with you?” I ask all of this in a slightly frustrated tone and it definitely caught her off guard because she immediately nodded her head.

“Ah ah, don’t go quiet on me now. Wanna hear you say it doll.”

She closes her eyes in what looks to be regret before opening them again and speaking. “Yes. It’s okay with me. Please fuck me Harry.”

At her consent, I’m quick to get the sparkly vest off of me as well as my pants and boxers. I’m fully naked though and she still has some of her lingerie on so she’s quick to help me take it all off, leaving nothing but the choker on.

I stick a finger underneath the metal ring of her choker to pull her up and once we’re both to our feet, I pick her up and wait for her to wrap her legs around my waist before walking towards the wall.

I line my dick up with her center and without another warning, slam into her in one go, causing her back to roughly hit the wall.

“Fuck Harry! You’re so big” she moans as I begin to pound into her at a rapid pace. Finally being able to feel her walls wrapped around my cock is making my head spin and I let it fall back as I close my eyes, listening to the sound of skin slapping against skin and her loud moans.

I move one of my hands that’s holding her thigh up until I reach her neck, where I apply pressure and watch as her eyes roll to the back of her head in pleasure.

“Tongue out for me, doll” at my words she sticks her tongue out and I waste no time spitting in her mouth and watching my saliva pool on the tip of her tongue. She moans at the contact on her tongue and puts it back in her mouth to swallow it.

“Such a good girl, following directions. You feel so good around me baby”the way she teased me earlier about how much I love praise definitely worked in her favor because it only made me realize that she also has a praise kink.

So I’m gonna do everything I can to praise the fuck out of her.

I feel my legs getting weaker as I near my release so I move us back over towards the bed and lay her down on her back with us still connected and start to thrust into her a lot slower than before in order to hold out our releases.

“So beautiful Kerr, have I told you that yet?” I can tell she’s in the hazy state I was in earlier because her eyes are lidded and she slowly nods her head no.

“Well, I should’ve.”

She moans at my praise and starts to push her hips down to meet mine. I look to my left and see the vibrator that she left on the bed and decide to use it to both of our benefits. I grab it and turn it on to one of the lowest settings and place it right above my dick and on her clit.

At the initial contact she threw her head back with a string of incoherent moans, my name being one of them thrown in there somewhere. Because of the close proximity, I can also feel the vibrations and it makes my movements slow even more.

I lean over so I’m closer to her, and with one hand holding the vibrator to her clit, the other holds myself up right by her head. With our newfound close proximity, she grabs my back and scratches her hand down the entirety of my back in reaction to the pleasure.

My back arches at the pain but I welcome the feeling, moaning into her ear about how good it felt.

“Fuck, Kerr, do that again. I’m so close” her claws scratch my back once more and without warning, I feel her release all over my cock. Her walls begin to squeeze me over and over again and I turn the vibrator off so I don’t hurt her overstimulated center.

“Where do you want me? Tell me, please. I’m gonna come, Kerr, you feel so good. So fucking good” we probably should’ve talked about a condom beforehand but we were so caught up in the moment, neither of us even thought about it.

“Inside me. Fill me up, please. I’m on birth control, I wanna feel it. Please.”

Just her begging alone was all it took for me to finally let go. While my high was taking over, I rested my forehead against Kerr’s shoulder while we both rode out the blissful waves.

When I was fully over my high and came to my senses, I carefully pulled out of Kerr and worked my way down her body, peppering light kisses every so often until I came face to face with her center, with my cum dripping down it.

With zero hesitance I lick from her entrance to her clit and she squeezes her thighs around my legs in reaction to the oversensitivity. Her hands make their way to my hair as I continue to clean her up and when there’s no remnant of me anywhere on her, I move back up to the top of the bed to lay down with her.

“So Harry, before you go back to rockstar on tour life tomorrow, wanna go back out there and have a couple drinks? I don’t think I got to finish my show.”

I laugh at her suggestion and nod my head yes before standing up to put my clothes back on. Before I'm able to get fully dressed though, she picks up my vest and puts it on. I don’t argue but I do give her a funny look considering it doesn’t even cover up much.

“What, you just fucked my brains out and expect me to go back out there in just lingerie? I’m too hot for that, everyone out there will be all over me and I need at least three hours before I can go again.”

I mean, she’s not wrong.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Want nobody else

Request: Hi can I request a Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor reader where they’re dating in secret & Draco decided to spend the holiday at Hogwarts instead of going back to the manor because he wants to spend more time with the reader but surprise surprise Narcissa decided to drop in to his dorm just to find them cuddling in front of the fireplace or something. She’s scared of course but Narcissa turns out to be very kind & welcoming and the three of them spend the day together and even invited her to come to the Malfoy Manor anytime she’d like Thank you! - @queenofmankind

A/N: I loved this request bc I am a sucker for secret relationships, like that is my shit. I’ll not lie, these last couple of days I have been really doubting my writing ability, but nevertheless, I hope I have done your request justice. It’s really fluffy bc I love fluffy Draco so much omg. Enjoy! (Title is from Liam Payne - Midnight)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (Gryffindor)

Warnings: one swear word

Word count: 2.1k

Being pulled into a supply cupboard was not how you wanted to start your morning, but it happened, nonetheless.

You’re about to start shouting when a familiar voice whispers, “Lumos.”

The tip of his wand starts to glow with a pale light, and you’re greeted to the sight of your boyfriend smiling down at you.

“Draco! You can’t just go about pulling me into supply cupboards.”

“Why not?” He asks, crowding you against the wall. He’s so close to you that his breath fans over your face.

“What if we get caught? What if someone sees us?”

Draco shrugs, leaning in to kiss you but his lips land on your cheek when you move your head at the last minute.

“We both agreed we would keep this a secret. That means you can’t pull me into supply cupboards between classes.”

“I know, but would you believe me if I say I did it because I missed you?”

“I would, but only because I missed you too.” You reply, fisting a hand in the front of his robes to pull him in for a kiss.

He hums into the kiss, pressing you even further into the wall. Your arms wrap around his neck; one hand making its way into his hair, pulling lightly drawing a groan from his mouth. He responds by biting your bottom lip.

“The bell is going ring any minute.” You whisper against his lips.

Draco nods in acknowledgement but kisses you again and continues to do so until the aforementioned bell rings.

You pull away from him with a peck to his lips. You smooth down your robes and hair to make it look as if you haven’t been making out with the Slytherin Prince between classes.

His hand grabs yours as he tugs you in to kiss you again, “I’ve got to go,” You say, pecking his lips one more time, silently loving how he chases your lips for another, “I’ve got Divination and those stairs are killer. I’ll see you later?”

“Definitely. I’ll meet you in the astronomy tower after dinner.”

You blow him a kiss which he catches with a laugh before rushing to Divination. Professor Trelawney had a thing for making latecomers make the first prediction of the lesson.

-----

The closer it got to the holidays, the slower the school day became. In every lesson, you zoned out, finding it hard to keep your attention on the topic of the class. Instead, daydreaming of a certain blonde-haired Slytherin.

Being in a relationship with Draco was the last thing you expected to happen to you. A member of Gryffindor and raised a muggle, you didn’t think for one moment that Draco would look in your direction.

A friendship blossomed between the two of you after being assigned a paired essay in History of Magic on Gellert Grindelwald’s threat to the International Statute of Secrecy. Draco was apprehensive at first; his walls securely built around him. However, as time went on and progress on the essay was good, those walls steadily came down and he started to have feelings for you. He just didn’t know you felt the same way.

You couldn’t help but feel sad as you finished writing the final sentence of the essay. Your time with Draco was up and things were to return to how they were before.

He didn’t want that; you didn’t want that.

Whilst waiting for the ink to dry, Draco took it upon himself to confess that he didn’t want this to end. His happiest time of the week were the hours he spent with you, but he would understand if you didn’t feel the same way. Draco never got a chance to finish his sentence – you had pulled him in for a clumsy but sweet kiss. It was after you had pulled away that you both agreed to keep the relationship secret for fear of the reaction from his parents and your house.

A ball of paper hitting the back of your head breaks you from your reverie. Turning to see who threw it, you smile as you see Draco staring intensely at his textbook.

Unscrewing the wad of paper you read his recognisable scrawl: ‘What are you thinking about?’

You don’t take the time to think of a reply, simply writing: ‘You, like always.’ It’s worth it when you see the blush on his face as he reads your reply.

---------

The astronomy tower had always been a favourite of Draco’s. Somewhere he could come, think and not be disturbed. If you ever had trouble finding him through the school, your first port of call would always be the astronomy tower. In the early weeks of your relationship, it became your go-to meet up spot.

Climbing the stairs to the top of the tower was always worth it when you saw him waiting for you; the breath stolen from your lungs when his eyes landed upon you and he smiled.

Tonight was no different; the butterflies in your stomach had turned into a full-blow riot, but you knew they would settle the moment your eyes landed on Draco.

He’s already waiting; leaning against the railing, looking out across the view. The astronomy tower held the perfect vista of Black Lake and the Scottish Highlands behind it. You sometimes questioned how you went to school in such a wonderful place.

Draco turns at the sound of your footsteps, a smile already making its way across his face. He holds a hand out to you and you are quick to fold your hand into his, tangling your fingers together as you do so. He brings your joined hands up to his lips, dropping a small kiss to the back of your hand before letting them fall between the two of you.

“I liked your note, by the way.”

You laugh, “I could tell. That was some blush.”

He grins at you, savouring the sound of your laughter, “I like the fact that you always think of me.”

You hum, “I like it too, but I’m going to have to pay some attention to my work, I think it’s getting jealous.”

Draco pulls you into his side; his arm now wrapping around your shoulder. He presses not one, but two kisses into your hair before saying, “I’m staying at Hogwarts over the holidays.”

“You are?” You ask, your eyes wide, excitement starting to build.

He nods, confirming, “My parents want to go travelling for those two weeks, so I said I’d stay at Hogwarts instead.”

“They didn’t question it?”

“My mother wanted me to go with them, but my father wasn’t bothered. Besides, it means I get to stay here with you which is exactly why I told them no.”

Your body warms with those words, as if they take root in your heart.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“No!” You shout, wincing as you realise just how loud your voice is. Draco has a shit-eating grin across his face. “What I mean to say is, I don’t mind at all. I get to have you all to myself for two weeks.”

“Yes, you do.” Draco murmurs before pulling you in for a kiss; effectively ending all forms of conversation for now.

------

The first week of the holidays, it is decided quickly that you were to stay in Draco’s room since his dorm mates had all gone home for the holiday.

Waking up to Draco is a whole new experience, and you can’t help but love every minute of it. His blonde haired messed up, his voice gravelly with sleep. Your mind flashes to ten, fifteen years from now – hearing that voice whispering sweet nothings to you in the morning.

You shift in his bed, moving the covers from your body when Draco’s arm clamps itself around your waist, pinning you to the bed.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh?”

“Nope, you’re staying in bed with me all day.” He says, rolling on top of you, bracing himself with his elbows. He runs his nose along the expanse of your neck before placing light, butterfly kisses across your jaw – teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity.

Your legs wrap themselves around him, a hand tugging at his t-shirt as he finally presses his lips to yours.

You don’t leave the bed that day.

------

After that morning, Draco has a hard time keeping his hands off you. Pulling you into empty classrooms or rarely visited stacks in the library. You’ve had to apologise to Madame Pince more times that you’d like to admit – but seeing this side of Draco, unafraid of what people think of him, it’s addicting. You’ve cornered him in the Slytherin common room just as much.

-----

The second week of the holiday starts blissfully; you wake wrapped around Draco each morning and you can’t help but want this for the rest of your life. To be able to wake up to him for the rest of your life, you would count it as a life well lived.

Sitting on one of the many couches dotted about the Slytherin common room, you read a muggle book you brought from home. It tells the story of a huntress taken away by a faerie in payment for the death of the faerie’s sentries – the huntress soon starts to fall for her captor, and she promises to break the curse on his land. It keeps you enthralled as Draco reads the muggle classic Frankenstein after you introduced it to him some months ago.

The fire is roaring, Draco’s hand doodles aimless patterns on the top of your thigh from where your legs are thrown across his. You catch his hand every time it travels higher up your thigh; not missing the smirk on his face as you do so.

Neither of you think to look up from your respective books as the door to the common room opens. Neither of you think to look up until a delicate cough breaks your bubble.

“Mother,” Draco greets, standing up from the couch, pulling you up with him. His arm automatically going to your waist, as if it belonged there.

“Draco, who is this?” Narcissa asks, not taking her eyes off you.

Draco’s arm remains tight around your waist, “This is my girlfriend, (Y/N).”

Her next question is directed at you, “How long have you been seeing my son?”

“Almost six months now.” You answer, keeping your voice steady. This was not how you envisioned finally meeting his parents.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, I think I do.” You answer honestly. Draco’s hand squeezing your waist tightly.

Narcissa smiles, her eyes now on Draco’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist. She smooths out an invisible crease in her dress before saying, “Then that’s all that matters.”

“You don’t care that I’m a Gryffindor?” You ask, the words flying out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I care if Draco is happy and by the looks of it, he is. Your house doesn’t matter to me. Now I came here to see my son, and I’ve met his girlfriend as well. I say we take a walk into Hogsmeade and get some lunch – how does that sound?”

“Of course, mother.” Draco states, “I’ll grab our coats.” He kisses your cheek before rushing to his dormitory.

-------

Lunch with Narcissa went brilliantly, if you could say so yourself. She declined Draco’s offer of walking back to Hogwarts with the two of you; deciding to apparate from Hogsmeade instead. She kissed your cheek before she left and extended an invitation to visit Malfoy Manor whenever you wanted – she wanted to get to know the girl who her son had fallen in love with.

Walking back to Hogwarts, yours and Draco’s hands swing between you. If this was bliss, you didn’t want to know anything else. If this was being in love, then you didn’t want to be proved wrong. All you wanted was the boy walking next to you – for the rest of your life, if possible.

“(Y/N)?” Draco asks, coming to a stop in the middle of the path.

You hum, “Yes, Draco?”

“What would you say to us going public? Not hiding anymore?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Draco speaks over you. “I’m tired of having to pretend that I don’t want you, that I don’t love you. Because I do, I love you, a lot. I don’t think we have anything to be afraid of now, my mother knows, and everything will be okay.” He wraps his arms around you, “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

You throw your arms around his neck, tugging him down for a long, unhurried kiss. His hands tighten on you whilst yours find purchase in his hair. It’s a long time before you pull away from the other; completely unaware of how many people have hurried past you.

Your hand strokes his cheek as you whisper, “I love you too. Let’s not hide anymore.”

****

Draco taglist: @cheapglitter 

[sanstropfremir]

kingdom episode 5 review!!! lets fucking go!!!!!

 look. was i insanely hyped for this episode? yes. was my hype justified? also yes. holy FUCKING SHIT. you’ll have to forgive me for going off the rails at some points because ateez and btob directly tapped into something primal in my brain and i am obsessed. i'm obsessed. there’s no other word for it I’m obsessed. 

 ok ok ok i'll focus. i'm focused. i'll do the stage breakdown first and then do my personal ranking at the end. i might do a quick runup comparison of the self and expert rankings for funsies but i'll see how i feel when i get there. instead of going in airing order i’m gonna reverse it, since that was the order i actually watched them in and also i will run out of brains if i talk about rhythm ta first.

skz

i feel for skz. i don't think this show is going to be as much of learning curve as it needs to be for them because the fan voting skews the rankings so much. I’ve said it so many times before, but letting something flop or getting a bad ranking is actually good, because it shows you that you need to improve. because skz keeps getting validated by the fan rankings and placing first in the last two stages, they aren't actually taking the time to evaluate what about their stages is or isn't working. and besides, we’ve now seen two very similar concepts in a row from them, just one is on a grander scale than the other. what they should be doing is what both ateez and btob did for this round, which was scale up production value, but scale down concept. i know this sounds weird but i'll explain. skz has done two very abstract and ‘grand’ concepts. first round we had ghosts/good self vs evil self, and this stage they just went straight for the throat with a deal with the devil type stage. now when you combine these very abstract concepts with an unclear narrative arc, you lose clarity of intent in the performance because there are no specifics that you’re playing off of. there’s a lot more places left up to personal interpretation and this is where people can get lost. btob and ateez both narrowed down their concepts to hyperspecific scenarios where they very clearly showing the audience the arc the stage is taking. audiences can be smart but also if you can lead them by the hand they like not thinking about highly conceptual ideas, and especially not so much in a pop song competition show.

 costume

this is so rare because generally stylists are pretty careful about this, but i genuinely think they got outshone by the backup dancers, especially in the ‘heaven’ sequence. those sash and skirt combos with the strapped white tops that look like straitjackets? the fucking angel wings?! these are some thematically fun costume designs and because they’re white they stand out so much more when skz are wearing black. i also think i've seen these tops on backup dancers before? i thought it was on the last stage but i might be going insane.

i am a sucker for beaded embroidery and the combined dyework on some of their sashes is beautiful. but again, thematically irrelevant? at least you can see the greco-roman inspiration in the backup dancers’ costumes. all this is telling me is that whoever the stitchers are at jype, they are fucking incredible, but they don’t actually have a good designer because the main costumes for all their stages have been both aesthetically similar and thematically irrelevant.

again, i applaud skz for trying more experimental makeup, but boys you have to go bigger, it has no impact right now.

set

well, i did ask for them to commit to the western art bit and they sort of delivered? the first space is not planned very well and combined with the wide wide camera shots instead of making the space seem grand and sweeping it just seems bare. the ‘heaven’ side was excellent though, there was much better control of the camera and the columns and altar scaled the space down so it was more believable. also the breakable columns were fun and corny and i love it when stuff gets destroyed onstage.

the child statue transformation into actual child was a neat trick that i think landed really well. i wish they had given that concept a little more grounding other than the flashback bit but it was still very readable.

i know using rodin's gates of hell is the easiest way to shortcut saying that like, “you are now entering hell,” but them being used SO literally feels a bit blunt when the last time we saw them used in kpop was by original blasphemous catholic lee taemin, who used them with such nuance and intelligence that i'm a bit put off by skz’s literalism.

on that note, i find it very interesting the conflation that happens between greco-roman/”classical” aesthetics and catholicism, because ideologically the two are opposed (see: the bible) and historically, they didn't exist at the same time. now i'm not going to go off on a tangent about neoclassicism because you are not here for an art history lecture but i thought i would make the observation about how catholics continued appropriation of greco-roman aesthetics without complete understanding or context of those aesthetics is as pervasive as it ever has been in the last several hundred years. 

lighting

generally the lighting is pretty good, but there’s an over-reliance on projections that cheapens the look of the stage but also devalues the intentions as well. at the core of it there’s a profound statement being made about trading away your innocence, but when you underscore that with like, clock graphics and a WoW looking demon, it loses that simplicity of message.

the thing about using this particular type of projection, which are actually screens and not typical projectors, is that screens always throw light. and due to where they are situated, this basically means that if you're using the screens at full capacity with a cool colour range, we are going to be able to see everything. this is another contributing factor to why the stage looks so empty; they’re lighting up everything and it exposes where the gaps are.

now i fully acknowledge that this possibly could have been a deliberate choice, since they do actually use some spot lighting at the beginning and end. however, if it was it did not land for me. 

i loved the intro of demon felix done in blue, that was a nice switchup from what we would usually see, but i wish there was more of a coherent colour arc. like the narrative it stutters around a bit.

sound

the arrangement was a miss for me. i found it a bit dissonant again, like their last stage, since the original i'll be your man has obvious lyrics about a good christian boy being sad about a girl. this gets a bit wonky conceptually as soon as you add a child self into it. i don’t know if they changed any of the lyrics in the singing to match this a little more because i don't speak korean, so i'll have to wait for episode subs for verification. 

i really applaud them for trying, and overall they didn't actually do that bad, but skz is not a vocal group. the most i'm going to say about it is that these boys don’t have the breath support. this is likely because they're trying to do choreographically complex movements, but also it's a training thing. you can hear the difference even just between eunkwang’s ‘vocal warmup’ at the beginning of back door, he’s not projecting full voice but he still has the breath support for his voice to sound full, whereas all skz boys sound thin in comparison, even when at full volume, because they’re trying to project from the throat and not the chest. that's all i'm gonna say about that. i don't think the cracked note was bad, i didn’t really clock it on first listen.

staging

thematically they could have had something really interesting here if they stuck to a more simple narrative arc. the genesis (i’m very funny) of the idea here is good, the whole mephistopheles deal with a devil + regret/loss of innocence is clear, but the arc isn't really an arc, and the colour story doesn't help. it kind of goes earth (green/blue) -> the gates of hell are opening (red) -> oh it's heaven now (blue) -> oh just kidding it's hell/lets destroy heaven (red) -> back to earth (blue). not necessarily a bad arc, just a bit complex for four minutes.

the choreo was a lot better this time, there was a lot more intention and relevance to theme and i didn’t feel like they were flailing for the sake of flailing as much as i have in their other stages. there was also a clarity in the overall blocking and movement patterns that was missing from their other stages. this stage has a really great handoff of each member playing the ‘main’ character, especially in the beginning. i especially liked the cut from falling off the stairs to laying centre stage. 

i think I’m right in assuming that it was a choice that the members were all playing the same character and demon felix was that character possessed rather than the actual devil, but personally i think it would have been a lot more fun if they had straight up just made him be the actual devil. there’s a bit of dissonance when you have a performer with such a specialized skillset that gets used in very specific instances, but then he shows up in the regular group choreo like any ol’ guy. they always put such emphasis on felix (as they should, he’s their most charismatic performer), but they never go the distance. i would have loved it if they had committed to the bit like TOO did in their magnolia stage from rtk, where they had a member just be blinded justice. that was literally the only thing he did and it worked so well. could have done the same here with felix and it would have been fun. that being said the felix parts were SO good. love love love him getting dragging in chains.

 btob

this hit every little one of the buttons in my tiny backstage crew brain. i'm in love with this stage. there’s so many true to life little details here that on repeat viewings you're still finding new things. i know i rag on and on about narrative every week but here is a good example of what i've been trying to get at this whole time: the stage needs a shape. an a to b. you don't need a whole pirates spiel or a game of thrones theme extended universe; all you need is a clear setting and a point a to point b. this stage has both those things perfectly. we have a hyperspecific setting, (american rockstars) and a basic arc (getting ready to perform -> performing). even though back door is outside of btob’s wheelhouse, they spun it in a way that played to their strengths and did a bit braggadocio, which is rightfully earned. i'm gonna be saying it every time but the experience shows!!!

 costume

good contemporary costume is SO difficult, i want to impress that here. because it's the the time period that we are currently living and seeing every day it's so easy for the audience to spot mistakes. although yes it's easier to source/shop for, to get it good enough that it doesn't pull people out of the immersion is surprisingly more difficult than you think. their stylists did an excellent job here. the backup dancers and btob are all in monochrome plus one and it adds a very clean unity to everything without visual clutter.

each of btob’s costumes have enough to give indication of character, along with the member’s acting, which i'll get more into in the staging section. regardless, never underestimate the power of a good fitting shirt and statement belt. oh and minhyuk in the stirrup motorcycle boots with the skinny jeans and the supreme boxers and the red satin robe? good bye.

i love love love a dyed buzz this was such a good aesthetic choice for peniel, 10/10 i have no complaints about the costumes.

set

oh my god i’m gonna french kiss this set designer. this is such a simple set but it’s executed so well. there’s the ‘backstage’ area, the corridor with four dressing rooms, and then the ‘stage’ that’s pretty much just velvet ropes. so simple, but all the detail is in the set decoration and props. the road cases, the monitor, the subtle flex of the posters of them on the walls, the clothing racks, all the booze. although this is not the actual layout of any theatre (they're normally much weirder than this), there’s so many little details here that really make the experience.

there’s a very straightforward path here and it works so well. i think this might be the best use of the gates so far? it appropriately suited the drama of the moment and they didn't have to do anything to them because they're already in a theatre. bada bing bada boom.

lighting

love the setup and continuation through the amber ‘BRRRMM.’ like with sf9 it gives a smooth transition into the stage. also loved no blackout. it's a general rule in current theatrical practice that you only use blackouts when they are absolutely necessary, because they can stop the pacing of a play dead in the water. so the lack of one here at the start of the stage was a really smart choice and makes the transition feel less jarring.

i will say that actual backstage areas are very rarely lit with amber because it travels far and it's bright. it's much more common to see running lights (the lights on during a performance) to be deep red or blue.

those blasting wash lights as the gates open? the DRAMA. such a seemingly innocuous choice that really cements the atmosphere of ‘we are about to perform.’

really smart use of the projections to accentuate the already existing stage facilities. it's pretty much unnoticable because it's very well done but i appreciate it.

sound

this ARRANGEMENT!!!! it's so good!!! back door has this premise essentially built into the song so it was so smart of them to put this gimmicky spin on it. loved the literal interpretation of the knocks into the structure of the stage, it makes the blend between the sound design and the staging that much more effective.

more rock versions of everything please and thank you. 

btob is just stunting at this point and i love it. i'll have to wait for subs but judging by the hands in front of the camera bit and the ‘your super high note’ i’m pretty confident the added rap lyrics are full of shots at the other groups and honestly? valid.

staging

there's some really sharp camera control here with the one take first half. It’s up very close and personal because there’s a lack of space but it really works for the ‘intimacy’ of seeing backstage at a venue. also this is such a simple movement track but it’s so effective. it backs over a couple spots but it doesn't feel repetitive because there’s a sense of urgency and drive.

there are so many good little details in here that are true to life and unnecessary to include but sell the performance as a whole. peniel flinging water onstage, minhyuk stripping down twice and flinging his clothes around, minhyuk closing the door on the standby’s face, the backup dancer as a dresser with the laundry basket, peniel stealing the hat off her but then not going on stage with it these are all things that I’ve either had directly happen to me or something very similar has happened. but the best one and the one that sets off the tone amazingly for the whole stage is eunkwang’s intro. that ‘vocal warmup’ with the quiet okay at the end? with the little jump? i see that moment of vulnerability before the transition between person and actor every time i watch someone go onstage for the first time and there’s no way to describe it other than magic. 

the luxury of only having four members, there was actually time in this stage to establish character. it also speaks to the performing strength of btob that they can establish clear character in this short amount of time. obviously it’s pretty one dimensional; there’s serious eunkwang, typical rocker minhyuk, fuckboy peniel (how many licks does it take to make your tootsie pop, anyone?), and comedian changsub. i’ve seen and met and worked with these exact dudes many, many times. ugh i love this stage

 ateez

the utter euphoria i felt at the proof that last round’s stage wasn't a fluke. this stage is so good. it's so good. i'm obsessed with how good this stage. as an unreformed pop punk teen who played a LOT of latin jazz i am LIVING. if you’ve only seen the episode cut and not the full version here i'll make it easy and link it for you because oh my GOD mnet destroyed the pacing by cutting in a full minute and a half of reaction shots. actually mnet fucked up the pacing for all of these stages but this one was the worst. and look. i know this is the closest these boys are going to get to being real punks and this is a carefully curated and artificial facade for narrative purposes only but oh the pandering tastes so sweet. regardless of that, i am IN AWE of the level of storytelling happening here. the narrative is so clear on just the first viewing even though there is so much going on and they use every possible element they can to further enhance that narrative. repeat viewings just add more and more little details. i’ll probably miss some things because there's so much but i'll try my best.

 costume

look, hanya and i were joking that my notes for this stage were just gonna be ‘san dog collar’ for a thousand words and i was so tempted to just leave it at that because.....woof. so here is a short list of things i am the most obsessed with:

san dog collar

san smeared lipstick

wooyoung cruella deville ponytail

hongjoong terrible blond crewcut

san crushed velvet cargo pants?!

seonghwa cropped fur jacket

yunho arm sleeve

hongjoong sockless in red derbys

but in all seriousness the costumes are so good. none of these are truly authentic punk looks but they capture the spirit right and that's what matters. all the right trappings are there; safety pins, patches, plaid, leather, and a lot of diy type looks. i love the painted masks, especially as a callback to the comedy/tragedy theatre masks. it was a thematic choice to have the backup dancers in black and the tac vests are a super simple contextual device.

also hongjoong’s quickchange hat/jacket combo is super fun and i hope that’s intentionally a preview of the next stage.

set

if you weren't convinced before that whoever is designing the ateez stages is a stage designer, i don't know what to tell you. it's hard to tell because there is so much environmental storytelling happening, but there is NO large scale set here. like with their last stage, kq smartly put money into two highlight pieces; the anarchist blimp and the van/wall, and the rest of the stage atmosphere is established solely through propwork and lighting. just think about that for a bit. every other group has some kind of large scale room or wall build. ateez has a bunch of tables, flyers, and a podium. i don’t know if i can accurately communicate just how difficult this kind of coordination is to pull off but holy fucking shit this is so hard to pull off. these are theatre people i see you and i see your work and i love you!!!

they fully used the gilt mnet stage as their pseudo government building and it works. everything about this (lack of) set is so smart i wish i could be more articulate about it but there’s so only so many ways i can say the same thing over and over again. 

lighting

the laser scopes. the LASER SCOPES!!! god this lighting designer is so good. whoever you are, i'm acknowledging your effort because you deserve it. there’s some really wonderful contrast and directional lighting: the van light, the pinlights/lasers/smoke as searchlights. a lot of atmospheric red lighting but it makes sense for the theme (alarm lights) and they offset it well (unlike in the other two predominantly red stages we’ve seen) by fill lighting the faces with blue or amber; this is what actually makes us able to see what’s happening on stage

the projections are used to augment the stage action in without being overpowering, they're at relatively low tonal value so they aren't lighting up the stage at full brightness like in the skz stage. 

the big brother eye on the tv screens (it's just a projection, not actual screens) combined with the government ban notice and the broadcast has to be the record for fastest visual explanation of fascist totalitarian state. 

sound

i love it. they really successfully made rhythm ta into an ateez song and it’s cool as fuck. i love that it isn't sonically very loud. a lot of the chorus is actually quite level tone and quiet, which is a bold choice and they pull it off. this is very comfortably in their range (excluding jongho) and they went more for style than range and that's exactly what every group should be doing. singing high does not equal singing good. yes i am looking at you jongho you should have stopped at that penultimate note, it was fine!!

using rhythm ta as a pseudo protest song against a fascist government that’s banned all music and art? galaxy brain. that intro of hongjoong whispering “hey hey hey hey, this is just a song so get on the rhythm” after gunning down military police/guards? king fucking shit.

staging

i will eat all five pairs of my fluevog boots if kq hasn't hired a bunch of theatre professionals to direct and design these stages because now it's been proven that last stage wasn't a fluke. the level of execution at work here is absolutely incredible. oh the gesamtkunstwerk of it all!!!  there is SO much happening so quickly in this four minute stage and it still manages to convey exactly the correct amount of information that it needs to on the first go round, and it only gets better on repeat viewings.

they use a really classic theatre perspective trick with san climbing the rope, and they absolutely didn’t have to do that. san probably could have actually climbed that himself, but here they made a choice for aesthetic artistry over tricking/other feats of skills we’ve seen the 4th gen groups do. instead of going with the more technically difficult and ‘impressive’ option, they chose the simple way that allows for more character to shine through. there’s actually very little tricking in this stage as whole, they're putting trust in the design of the stage and the raw performance abilities of the members to carry the stage and they stick the landing again. san has some breakdancing and so do the backup dancers, but it’s window dressing in the same way that the flyers are window dressing.

there’s a lot of really good little moments of acting that really sell the performance and dedication of the group as a whole to giving their all. hongjoong overall in his cocky aspirational leader role, seonghwa’s first verse and malfunctioning earpiece bit, san’s falsetto hostage interrogation bit. also i'm obsessed with how far yunho just hucks that mask. he gets like fifteen feet of air with that thing. also props to hongjoong barehanding that glass break.

the paper props are impeccable. the first notice sets up the situation right away, and then we get some further exposition with the newspaper wooyoung is holding (which says ‘the central government has defined the black pirates as a terrorist’ but honestly you don't really need to know what it says to get the point), and then we have raining anarchist flyers from the anarchist blimp. great atmospheric touches.

the blackout crash-to-mask transition is just so good. this is an example of a good use of a blackout. nothing else to add i just thought i would point it out because it's dope.

like with btob there's some really tight camera control here, that along with the lighting and the way they've laid out the space make it easy to follow the trajectory of where they're going and also make the space seem smaller than it is. this is a really big stage and if you don't control how you want it to be seen you end up like with what happened to the first part of skz’s stage. i wish they had tracked some of the one takes a bit better, but the end of that take where the camera followed the group movement laterally and then the formation swung around to face front? sexy. surprisingly the editing is pretty ok.

there’s probably still so much i could talk about but this is already so long so if i missed something just let me know.

ok finally lets do some rankings

personal ranking

this round wasn't as tough to rank because there were two clear top tier stages for me. i actually went back and looked at my ranking from last round and this is identical except the top two spots are switched, which i find extremely funny. however in contrast to last round, these stages were all leagues better than their predecessors. all the groups are improving, just some at greater speed than others.

ateez - i'm not even gonna explain this one.

btob - i won't explain this one either since i just did that.

sf9 - this would have been first if ateez and btob hadnt blow everyone out of the water.i still think they made all the right choices and played to their strengths.

ikon - this stage is so fun to watch but the others offer me more. that’s it.

skz - i like the idea behind it and i loved felix; i'm always down for some good catholic fuckery but like last round it just wasn't played out far enough.

tbz - double ding on the moulin rouge and the continued game of thrones references for me. there were a lot of strong elements here but when compared to every other stage it just doesn't have the same gravitas.

the self rankings i thought were fairly accurate, but again, what the fuck is up with these expert rankings? who are these experts? what stages are they watching?? i won't go more into it than that because then you'll be here even longer but i don't trust these experts who consistently rank btob at the bottom, do you have eyes??? ears????

 ok i'm done for real now im so sorry this 4.6k words......if you make it this far do something nice for yourself like eat a cookie or something. this is way too long you deserve a reward for making it through my nonsense. as always if you’ve got questions or want to share your opinions feel free to send me an ask!

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Womanizer

A/N: I’m actually doing Chris Evans fan-fic on this account now. So here you guys go. Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader Word count: 1,819 Warnings: Very, very lightly dark Ransom, if you even consider it dark. 

To Ransom, you were everything.

The two of you hadn't spoken more than a dozen words to each other, only having had a few interactions at these various events and galas the elite class had to attend. You would ignore him, mingling around everyone else. But most importantly, other men.

He eyed you like a vulture. He was discreet about it, making sure to memorize the patterns of when you would look around, clearly out of boredom, and diverting his eyes elsewhere or back to the meaningless conversations he participated in. He would swirl his vodka in his small cup, filled with ice in a race against time so it wouldn’t water down to distract himself from your figure that stood no more than 15 feet away from him.

He noticed exactly how your drinks went: you would start out with champagne, finishing it. You would move onto red wine, only drinking half. He knew it was out of sake for your sobriety. You were smart. Then you would move onto whisky. He saw you down one a few times, and smirked to himself. You could drink hard liquor, that said something about you as a woman.

You were nothing alike the girls he would bring home for a one night stand. No, he wanted to put a ring on you. He would buy other girls some Cartier bracelet or a Prada bag for their cheap endeavors with him, but since the day he first saw you he knew you were his.

He had spent an entire night looking you up on Google. Finding your occupation as an English professor at an Ivy League school, to your academic essays. And of course, he found your Pinterest board. Because he knew damn well every woman had a Pinterest board for their wedding.

He noticed what you had saved, multiple photos of huge diamond rings, emerald cut. Classy and glamorous, it fit you. The very next day he went out to Tiffany’s, and bought a ring just like it. He knew your ring size, just from eyeballing your sleek hand. He had bought meaningless rings for dozens of other women, he was a pro at this point.

And in his lower desk drawer in his personal office, sat the blue box that he one day hoped to drop on one knee and grant you with, an official bond between you two that as of right now, he could only dream of. But he would do everything in his power to make sure it happened.

He noticed how other men looked at you, sleazy eyed with the most disgusting intentions. Sure, he wanted to take you home. But he wanted to keep you there, with him. He wanted you to be his, and only his. Forever, and ever.

“Mr. Drysdale,” His thoughts drowned in wonderland were ripped from him, disrupted by one of the investors in his publishing company.

“Mr. Peterson.” He tightly smiled, holding out his free hand to shake with the other man. His insides were burning with a fire of annoyance at this man, having to put on a stupid, nice face for him. He wanted no more than to find you, and start a conversation with you. 

He continued to look over the older man’s shoulder, only for a few moments at a time, catching a few glances of your gorgeous smile, your elegant being. It was the only thing keeping him sane.

“I should probably introduce you to some of my colleagues, other investors.” Mr. Peterson mentioned, “Follow me, they’re right over here.” “Oh, there’s no need-” Ransom tried to reason, an attempt to get away the talkative man who was arguably a nobody compared to the various others who had invested more from their pocketbooks than he had in his entire bank account.

“No, I insist.” He waved Ransom on, to which the brunette tightly smiled again, and with great reluctance followed.

He guided his way through the crowds and groups of people talking, their expensive clothes and obnoxious laughs making Ransom more irritable by the second. He could feel his anger rise to a slow boil, his ability to contain himself slimming by the moment. Then he saw it.

He saw you, standing there in that form-shaping dress of an emerald green, with a kind smile on your face. You, too, were talking to these so-called investors. His temperature dropped immediately, an inaudible sigh escaping his lips as his once forced smile turned into a natural one. One by one he was introduced to the various men, dressed in stupidly expensive suits that didn’t even fit, until your name came around, “And Y/N Y/L/N.” Mr. Peterson smiled, “English professor at Cornell, and published author.” You smiled at him, holding out your hand to which he shook.

Oh, how soft your hands were. It was like a cloud, he felt your elegant fingers grasping in his, the various rings on your fingers felt cold against his warmed skin. “I believe we’ve met before, Mr. Drysdale.” You spoke up.

“I believe so, Ms. Y/L/N,” He smiled, “And please, Ransom is just fine.” You nodded in agreement.

The conversation began, investors talking about money and bets, traditional things, finally Ransom’s company came up. “You have a publishing company, correct, Mr. Drysdale?” Your boss, Mr. Hart spoke, to which he nodded.

“Yes, my grandfather’s publishing company, I inherited it.” He took a sip of his drink.

“It’s doing well, I see?” Another asked and he nodded.

“Very well, yes,” He replied.

“And you, too, are an author?” A third asked, the questions becoming annoying to him. He nodded.

“That was how I inherited the company,” He began, “I released my first book and it got some press, sold a few copies, Harlan saw that I could take over his company and gave it to me.” “What is this book called?” Mr. Peterson asked, his clueless mind elsewhere.

“A Wrath for One Another,” You spoke up, his head turning to you and eyes shooting open wide in shock, “It’s a phenomenal piece, truly.”

“Why thank you.” He smiled at you, his mind still in a state of complete shock over your knowledge of his work.

“Well, we may just have to include that in the curriculum,” Mr. Hart smirked, sliding his hand to the small of your back. You knew he was tipsy, he always tried to flirt with you, physically, when he was like this.

“Well,” You spoke up, “If you would have read my plan for the curriculum at the beginning of this last semester, you would have seen I included that very book in the plan.” Most of the men around you nearly choked on their drinks, Ransom chuckling under his breath with a smile at how easily you dominated the man and the entire conversation. “Now, if all of you will excuse me, I must excuse myself with Mr. Drysdale to talk with him further about his works.” You removed yourself from your boss’ grasp with grace, walking over to Ransom and glancing only once before walking past his frame, which was quite a lot larger than yours. He stopped for a moment, getting the memo before following you, yet still unsure about what to do.

The two of you found a nearly silent corner in one of the rooms of this mansion, gold rimmed with old furniture, only a few guests lingering about in quiet conversation. “So,” Ransom was the first to speak up, you leaning against the wall and taking a sip of your whisky, “You’ve read my book, huh?” “Of course I have,” You coyly smiled, “Anyone who is actually within the modern world of literature has.” He sighed very lightly.

“You’re right.” You nodded, a few seconds of silence lingering between the two of you.

“I apologize that I took you out of the conversation, I just had the feeling that you didn’t want to be there either.” “Am I really that easy to read?” He asked you with a slight smile. “Eh,” You smiled back, “A little.”

“Well,” He began, “You are quite the woman-” “If you’re trying to get me in bed my answer is a firm no.” You rolled your eyes knowing too much about the playboy, something he too knew.

“That was not necessarily the plan.” “Necessarily?” You asked, looking at him and squinting your eyes in confusion, “Then what, pray tell, was the plan?”

“Well, it was to ask you out to dinner, get to know you better, go on a few dates and see how things go.” He began.

“Hugh Drysdale taking a woman out on a date?” You scoffed, “Hilarious.” “I mean it.” He fought right back.

“I’m sure that’s what you tell all your girls.” “But I would never do that to a woman.” He began, looking you up and down, “I know you’re smart, smarter than me if we’re both being honest, but I also know you drive me insane whenever I see you at these completely pointless events.” “Oh?” You asked, this time downing your drink, “And how would I know you don’t say that to all your other girls?”

“Because I know you love dogs, you’ve had three of them in your lifetime. I know you love to cook, your favorite thing to make is homemade pasta carbonara, and I know your favorite author is Hemingway, specifically his short stories, something that tells me enough about you to know that you’re a smart minded woman who can think outside of the box but within reasonable perimeters.” He responded all in one breath, leaving you breathless. You stared up at him confused and dazed, like a deer in the headlights.

“How did you know all that?” You asked, turning to him, this time seriously, “Are you stalking me.” “Stalking is a strong word,” He stated, your face turning to more panic which he noticed, “Oh please, no, I’m not stalking you in any way. I just overhear your conversations, wanting to know more about you.” It wasn’t a complete lie. “So eavesdropping?” You reiterated with a sigh.

“If you would like to use that word, then I suppose.” You held the small glass cup loosely within your fingers as you rolled your eyes again.

“Fine.” You sighed out, “One date. That’s it. But, no touching unless I say so. I don’t want to hear you brag about yourself, it gets obnoxious to a point where I get waves of nausea,” He couldn’t help but scoff, “And no talking about work. I’m sick and tired of people thinking it’s my only personality trait.” “Deal.” He agreed with a nod.

“Now,” You sighed, taking his hand very lightly in yours, “Back to old men staring at my boobs.” He lightly chuckled with a smirk.

“You do have nice boobs,” He said, to which you whipped your head around and gave him a grimace, “Respectfully.”

[strandedcrow]

thoughts on the glass animals album dreamland? (info dump welcome)

YES hi hello thank you

I talked like,, a lot so I’m sparing y'all with a cut

The album itself is just so well organized and executed it’s insane. The entire album just captures the feeling of taking a nostalgic trip through your own life and the way that it ends up forgotten in a way, sickly sweet and vague, subdued, and so easy to get completely lost in. And part of what makes it so well done is the pure authenticity it’s completely drenched in. The album itself didn’t exist until quarantine hit, they had been taking a break after a band member was injured and had to recover, and that isolation had that same impact on them as it did on most of us, and the result was this extremely genuine album embodying nostalgia itself.

As a band they’ve always done such an incredible job of maintaining a theme throughout their album that is consistent without becoming repetitive. The song Dreamland does such a perfect job of pulling you into the album, easing you into a subdued album, fuzzy around the edges but clear once you can hone in on the details, on what’s being said, perfectly reflective of the theme it’s introducing you to. While it’s doing that it’s also providing a smooth shift from the last song on the album before it, HTBAHB. Agnes leaves that album off on such an extremely a somber, desperate, and lost note, which Dreamland picks up, just as lost in itself, taking off so beautifully from Agnes’ “You’re gone but you’re on my mind, I’m lost but I don’t know why,” and getting into the why. But it does so by warning you first, “You see in kodachrome, you see in pink and gold.” This album is distorted, it’s not right, the colors are wrong and everything is sweeter than it should be. At the same time, it sets up for the songs to follow, like “That worst thing you said” for It’s All So Incredibly Loud and “You were ten years old, holding hands in the classroom, he had a gun on the first day of high school” for Space Ghost Coast to Coast.It’s those vague, unconnected memories that you haven't quite grasped onto yet in full, but you know you’re going to get lost in them once you do. You’re stepping back from the overload of information and action today to visit who you used to be and what made you who you are now.

Right after it, Tangerine does something that Life Itself did for HTBAHB, it smoothened the general sound’s transition between albums. Just as Life Itself, with its beat similar to the album before its own could have fit into ZABA with no issue, Tangerine could have been on HTBAHB without disrupting the album. The “retro” vibe, the themes revolving around both the nostalgia of Dreamland and those of past relationships deteriorating because of missed opportunities and growing apart fits so well into both albums, it’s such a great transition from the past album to the current. The “I’m begging, hands knees please, tangerine” is also a common expression used (often as a double entendre) by them, again like in Life Itself, with its chorus being “Come back down to my knees, gotta get back, gotta get free, come back down to my knees, lean back now, lean back and breathe,” which just sets up for a really smooth callback to previous songs and album. Something else that Tangerine establishes is something that’s been a running theme with Glass Animals since ZABA: fruit. There is a lot of fruit here. It used to be a running joke that Glass Animals wasn’t actually a band, but a cryptic pineapple worshipping cult (no amount of music made will fool me, this is definitely a pineapple cult). This album uses fruit to remind you of the sugary sweetness of nostalgia, but there’s more history and, well, fan specific nostalgia that goes with that metaphor, too.

Hot Sugar is similar to a later song, Waterfalls Coming Out Your mouth, in that it’s about someone who is so cool that they aren’t actually cool. The person isn’t genuine, the idea of them isn’t actually them, but this was someone that you still want to be anyways, because who wouldn’t want to be that cool? The song doesn’t have much deeper meaning underlying it compared to some other’s because that depth doesn’t exist here, with this person. You know they’re “faking it,” but it doesn’t really matter beyond deciding if you actually like them or if you just want to be them, and the answer is the latter. This song is also similar to another, later song, Tokyo Drifting, introducing the listener to this person that he wants to be like, referencing “Hot rubber on the tar,” and setting the stage for the later song to tell you more about what he wanted to be like. Also, once again, through a mention of watermelon, fruit continues to be a recurring theme in the earlier tracks on this album, when the trip through nostalgic memories is still more sweet than bitter.

Right after we get introduced to this idea of who he wanted to be, we move onto what became of someone he knew closely, shared a lot with, and very suddenly lost touch with through Space Ghost Coast to Coast. The music itself is reminiscent of the music he listened to at the time. This song, being a telling of something that actually happened, is so authentic and raw in how it ends up, all still told through the layer of confusion, hurt, and again, that sweetness of nostalgia, with “You look bizarre in the apricot” establishing a deceptively sweet but confused tone over something heavy through yet another fruit metaphor. This song also manages to hit on other songs from the album when he tries to delve into why his friend did what he did, “Were you bored of gender norms,” matching with Dreamland’s “Go ask your questions like “What makes a man?”,” “… of being alone,” matching Heat Waves’ “I don’t wanna be alone, you know it hurts me too,” and “… no mama home, a bad divorce” matching pretty much the entirety of Domestic Bliss. Like Hot Sugar, this song sets up for Tokyo Drifting, with his idea of who he wants to be but isn’t, with “Remember when you stole mom’s old Geo Metro, you wore her old bathrobe, too small to see the road.” There’s also more blatant references being made to both past shooters (Black cap back with a trench coat, ay) and the arguments afterwards of what motivated them (Playing too much of that GTA, playing too much of that Dr. Dre). While he still wants to understand his old friend, and what happened for him to change so abruptly and dangerously, he does not want anything to do with him anymore. It’s a song about a loss of innocence and the understanding that sometimes you just won’t understand why someone does something. It’s just a complete banger in general.

Which then takes us to Tokyo Drifting, which absolutely slaps. The song itself revolves around what he wanted to be like, singing from a new persona rather than his own (Cane Suga from HTBAHB was done through the same persona). It breaks the pattern of referencing to fruit, instead focusing on drugs and alcohol, dropping the sickly sweet lens of nostalgia for something more fitting of the song’s specific theme. Don’t worry, though, dragonfruit was used extremely heavily in this songs promotion as a single, so the fruit is still there, just not directly, and that lack of directly referring to a fruit in the song itself fits with the way that the song breaks from nostalgia of things that have happened and people he knew into something that was never real. There is no rose colored glasses needed for something that never even happened. I don’t have much else to say on it, it just goes hard, this was my most listened to song two years in a row lmao.

Melon and the Coconut is just sheer Glass Animals. It’s weird, it’s fun, and it sounds great. It cleanly splits the album in half, splitting the POV’s straight down the middle while making a reference to its own position in the album, “Sometimes B-sides are the best songs.” Needless to say, there are some super subtle references to fruit in Melon and the Coconut, the song about two fruit.

Then, the second half of the album kicks off with Your Love (Deja Vu), a song extremely similar in theme to previous songs about missed timing, like ZABA’s Pools and HTBAHB’s Pork Soda. Instead of fruit, “juice” is mentioned in this song. It takes the turn from thinking about people you were friends with, what you wanted to be like, to people that you were with, and things that just didn’t work out.

And then there’s Waterfalls Coming Out Your Mouth. It’s such a clean parallel to looking back on things with nostalgia and seeing them through the fake sweetness that time brings, with this song being about the rose colored glasses that were present in the moment, the time when you start getting to know someone but you aren’t actually getting to know them, you’re getting to know this other, more impressive version of them instead, and they get the exact same experience of you on their own end. He’s letting this other person have their own version of him while he has his own version of them in his head, and he knows their version of him is wrong, so he also knows whatever he thinks of them is going to be wrong, too. He knows them, but at the same time he doesn’t. He’s realizing here, that this person, like the Hot Sugar person, is too cool, and they aren’t real, it’s all just talk, and it’s all fake like the “chemical warfare, red lips and television eyewear, raspberry soda hair, in the pool with a blow up gummy bear.” It’s sweet, sure, but it’s also fake. “Chat shit but where’s the real you? Never seen The Price Is Right, I’m a liar been on that shit since ’99. You make me look like a clown, clap clap, you’re a clever clever cookie now” has no right go that hard, and yet it Does.

Then, abruptly, we get to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. The song itself is subdued, it’s that point in your trip through your own memories where you remember why things went wrong. You get shaken from your train of thought and lose your place in it, because you aren’t there anymore, you’re here and you can’t go back, you can’t fix anything, all that’s left for you to do now is mourn the wrongs and accept them, even though its painful. This is remembering what Dreamland meant by “That worst thing you said,” the realization that you have to break someone else’s heart, and how much that hurts.

((home movie: rockets)) is the longest home movie audio in the album, and creates a smooth transition back into childhood, journeying back through a sound similar to that of their first album, ZABA, on the way there for the album to transition into Domestic Bliss. This time, with someone else entirely’s perspective falling back onto knees, but this time under an entirely different tone, “Fight for me. We can leave I’m begging, please, on my on my knees.” These two songs back to back continue the downward spiral that too much nostalgia can leave you falling into, the wrongs, the regrets, this trip down memory lane has lasted too long, now.

Which drops us off at Heat Waves, which returns back to his own perspective after Domestic Bliss focused on a friend of his. It fits the bittersweet feeling in nostalgia, the understanding and acceptance that you can’t go back, you just have to keep going forward and separate instead for everyone’s sake, a followup less to the tangent in thought that is Domestic Bliss, and more to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. It also wraps up those previous album’s songs, Pools and Pork Soda in a way, bringing a sense of closure to the nostalgic feelings, as well as to the entire album.

And finally Helium, the bookend opposite to Dreamland. This song flawlessly embodies that feeling of when you realize you’ve just been sitting and staring at a photo album for an hour now, and you finally take a look around you, feeling the air conditioning on your skin, hearing the sounds of the world around you, snapping back out of your train of thought and into real life again. Things didn’t work the way that you used to think they would, but that’s a good thing. It is such a perfect ending to the nostalgic journey that is this entire album. Fading back into the melody that started this journey of sickly sweet memories of people you looked up to, when you learned for the first time that people can change and you might not ever understand why, ideas of who you once wanted to be, finding something light that you can laugh about, realizing how similar so many things in your life have been to each other, the realization that the people you used to look up to might not have actually been that impressive the whole time, your regrets, times you wish you could have done more, and the understanding that sometimes you shouldn’t have done so much.

I love this album so much man

[little-butterfly-writes]

NSFW - A Birthday Treat

Type - SMUT. 

Warnings - NSFW, established relationship, vaginal sex, oral sex (male receiving), dominant MC, slight mention of edging (blink and you’ll miss it), internal cumshot

Word Count - 1,143 (yes I know it’s short)

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY VICTOR

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had snuck into Victor’s house on the day of his birthday to decorate. What you didn’t expect was for Victor to be nuzzled into the thick comforter when you went to drop off his gift. Being the dummy you are, you gasped loud enough to wake the sleeping man. 

“What are you doing here?”, he says in a hoarse baritone voice.

You stumble, trying to find the right words to his question.

“Happy birthday, Victor!”, you say as cheerful as possible.

Victor clicks his tongue watching you stumble. He checks the time on his phone and swiftly moves up from the fluffy sheets to sit up. You stare awkwardly at the man while he stretches his arms and back. 

“I need to finish decorating, go back to bed”, you mumble under your breath.

He scoffs at your remark. “Not everyone can be as lazy as you. I need to go wash up real quick.”.

You nod as Victor walks to the bathroom down the hall. You head to the downstairs present to wrap his “gift”. After changing your undergarments and putting your dress back on, you continue to actually decorate the living room. The faint noise of the shower comes to a stop. Hearing the creaky floor as Victor steps, you psych yourself up and head upstairs to your prey.

The second you open the door, the lavender scented steam fans out slowly. The sight of Victor applying the shaving cream onto his developing stubble with his shirt open. The image itself makes your panties wet, thinking about all the way he could take you numerous times. You stalk over to the shaving man and embrace him, making him jerk in your arms.

“Did I scare you?“, you coo.

Victor groans in irritation. You giggle softly in his ear, to heighten his own senses.

“Well aren’t you gonna shave?”

“Dummy, you distracted me.”

“Don’t mind me~! Continue doing you.”

Victor lifts his razor up to his chin, focusing only on shaving. Seeing him so focused, an impish idea takes over you. Watching Victor’s eye from the mirror, you slowly drag your nails down his torso while sucking on his neck. You’re glad to notice the small tremble he lets out, or the anticipating bob of his adam’s apple.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I said don’t mind me!”

You immediately go back to your teasing strokes on his abdomen, your tongue moving to the shell of his ear. The irritated gaze Victor gives you after a stroke of his razor drives you insane. The mirror reflects the growing bulge in his pajama pants. Your hand dives under the waistband to, smearing the precum at the tip so you can give his cock a couple good strokes. Victor’s sharp hiss gives you indication to keep pumping his member. 

“You…, ngh, little vixen-”, Victor barely breathes out.

The smirk you give him before getting on your knees in front of him shows Victor he’s fucked. You pull down his pants and briefs, letting your warm saliva coat the tip of his throbbing cock.

“Keep shaving, maybe I’ll consider letting you cum after.”

The cold CEO above you is desperate to cum in the back of your throat. Victor can only choke out a small answer of approval before trying his best to shave quickly. You wrap your lips around his shaft, swiveling your wet muscle on the underside. Your right hand slides up to his balls so you can gently massage them. Victor drops the razor in his hand, the thin layer of foam still covering the majority of his face. His knuckles grip the edge of the counter so hard they turn white. You pull your lips away from the burning heat of Victor, hooded eyes staring down at you.

“If you don’t finish your task at hand, Victor, then I’m afraid I won’t let you spill in my mouth.”, you threaten. He’s too focused on the pleasure that he doesn’t think twice about your request. Victor picks up the tasks quickly, so you start to bob your head on his length. He shudders with a deep moan, leaving a shaky swipe on his cheek.  You keep your mouth busy until he finishes shaving, building up his release then abruptly stopping. Victor is needy, pulling you up and kissing you deeply.

You grab him by the collar of his pajama shirt, and drag him to the bedroom. Victor pulls you so straddle his lap on the bed. He tries to give you the same torture you made him go through, but to no avail. He tries to grind his erection into your clothed core, but you stand up and step away from Victor.

“Victor, if you don’t behave I won’t fuck you at all”

“It’s MY birthday though.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not in control still. Take your clothes off.”

Victor can only grumpily oblige if he wants the release of arousal. He takes all articles of clothes with your heated gaze on each movement.

“Happy?”

“Very. I believe such a good boy deserves a reward.”

You slowly shimmy out of your dress, revealing your deep purple lace that only covered your private areas. A slow step forward and you push Victor to lay down so you could straddle him. The stare he gives you nearly melts your being. You push the skimpy panties to the side, using your own pool of arousal to slick the hardness under you.

 As soon as you sink onto Victor’s length, the two of you let out a moan. Victor’s eyes trace the intricate patterns of your outfit. He’s stuck in a trance until you start moving your hips. You lean down to kiss him, tongue having their own little dance. Your hand moves to pull your breasts out of the cups. 

“You, ah, feel amazing...”, Victor’s breathless voice calls out. His right hand moves to fondle your nipples. You let out a loud cry as you increase the speed of your hips.

“I’m….I’m close, hngh….”, you barely muster out. Your body starts to give out from the exhaustion from being up early.Victor takes this opportunity to grab you by your hips and jackhammer into your sopping pussy. Moans turn into gasps for air as his left hand comes to play with your clit.

“Victor-”

“Just let go. You can do it.”, he softly whispers.

You cum on his cock a few moments later with Victor’s chasing after. Your body collapses onto his from the overexertion. Victor pulls you up to the pillows, his own little mischievous grin on his face.

“I think someone needs a punishment for teasing me earlier.”, his deep voice rumbles.

Needless to say, your body was pushed past its limits. Victor had to carry you downstairs after he was done teaching you your lesson so you guys could celebrate.

[phantom-curve]

Second birthday is such a cool thing to call that! 8 or 35 if you are feeling so inclined.

Thank you! When I was a kid my mom always tried to call it my rebirth-day and I was like no❤️ I went with some Willex whump (with a fluffy end) for this one! Set in the gimme a chance AU, featuring pro-skateboarder Willie and anxious Alex. This is also a bit of a companion piece to the #8 prompt I wrote earlier!

#35: kissing their bruises and scars (Trigger Warning: mentions of injury, mild description of panic attack, and mentions of a car accident. Rated T for language) 

Alex generally tried not to think about worst case scenarios when Willie was competing. If he let himself, it was way too easy to imagine all types of situations that ended with Willie broken and bleeding at the base of a halfpipe while Alex stood helplessly on the sidelines. It didn’t help anything for him to obsess over what could happen, especially because at this point, Alex knew skateboarding was as much a part of Willie as drumming was a part of him.

It was just that ever since Willie had gotten his first sponsorship and moved to the pro circuit six months ago, he had started taking bigger risks. More complex tricks and a lot less hesitation to go big when he was representing the brands that were paying his bills. And that meant longer hours practicing and a higher chance of injury on a daily basis. Alex wanted to be a supportive boyfriend, the kind that would show up at the skate park to cheer and not have a panic attack every time that Willie wiped out, but he wasn’t. He was just an anxious guy in love with a dude who seemed determined to break every single bone in his body.

Things only got worse when Willie started traveling for competitions. He was gone almost every weekend, and Luke had finally convinced the manager at the bar he worked at to let Sunset Curve preform regular Saturday shows, and so, more often than not, Willie would be somewhere else in California flinging his body down an insanely tall ramp with nothing but a helmet and some pads to protect him while Alex was trapped in LA losing himself in the familiar pattern of sticks against drums in an attempt to control his raging anxiety. It had about a 68% success rate. That success rate increased dramatically when Willie called Alex the second he knew his set was ending. It plummeted on the nights Alex didn’t hear from him until much later, or worse, heard from a different skater entirely.

Tonight was unfortunately one of those nights.

When their set ended, Reggie called out the same line he had coined after their first performance, a couple audience members chiming in with him because they actually had a bit of a fan following now, and Alex wasted no time in grabbing his phone from the fanny pack he kept behind his kit during shows. Instead of it lighting up with a picture of his boyfriend’s face, he was met with a series of missed calls and text messages from the guys Willie was rooming with for the weekend. He tried not to panic, tried to breathe in deeply to a count of five, holding it for just as long before exhaling again. It kept the anxiety at bay for as long as it took for him to unlock the phone and read the last missed message.

Don’t worry, bro. They’re gonna airlift him back to LA so you can just meet him at the hospital whenever.

Panic hit full force. What the actual fuck had happened to his boyfriend?! Alex’s fingers were shaking too much for him to open the other messages, his vision going blurry and a distant ringing sounding out in his ears. It took him longer than it should to realize Luke was crouched down in front of him, Reggie hovering just beyond the drum kit.

“You have to breathe, Lex. C’mon, follow me.”

Luke inhaled deeply before letting his breath out in a loud woosh. Alex tried to copy him, but his chest felt too tight, his throat closing in the more he tried to open it. Luke kept talking, his voice low and calm.

“Try again, we can do it together. We just have to breathe, nothing else.”

Alex inhaled with Luke that time, not quite as deeply and not quite as steady, but more air than he had managed to get before. It took several long moments before he was able to match Luke completely, the fog starting to clear from his brain, surroundings snapping back into focus.

“Great, good, just keep breathing, okay? I’m gonna go grab the office keys and we’ll take a minute in there to talk, okay?”

Alex nodded, not exactly wanting Luke to leave but knowing whatever his best friend was saying logically made sense. Reggie slipped into the space Luke had been occupying, breathing in the exact same pattern, and Alex refocused on him. When Reggie stood, Alex copied him, reaching out to grip the back of Reggie’s red flannel as he led them both off of the stage and down the hallway to the office in the back of the bar. Alex dropped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

“Lex? Can you tell us what’s going on?”

Reggie’s voice was soft and quiet, like a gentle melody. Alex let it wash over him, knew his boys would be able to help if he could just figure out how to get his mouth to form the words it desperately didn’t want to say out loud. He fought to speak for a few moments before finally just thrusting his phone forward. A hush fell over the room as Luke and Reggie scrolled through the texts and Alex was suddenly grateful that he wouldn’t have to read through them himself. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, Luke cleared his throat and spoke.

“Okay, so good news or bad news first?”

“How can there possibly be good news?”

Alex’s throat felt raw and scratchy, the words coming out broken and strangled. Luke and Reggie exchanged a quick glance before Reggie sat next to Alex on the couch. Not touching, but close enough for Alex to feel comforted all the same.

“Willie isn’t dead or dying, so yes, there is good news. Which one do you want first?”

A significant amount of the panic left Alex’s system at the reassurance that his boyfriend was alive and going to stay that way for the time being. It hit him all at once, sending him into Reggie’s side as he let out a cry of relief. Reggie’s hand stroked up and down Alex’s arm, a low hum sounding in the back of his throat. Luke spoke again.

“Okay, so good news is that Willie is probably already back in LA, he’s at the best hospital he can be at, and he’s going to be fine.”

Alex clung to the words like a life raft. Willie was going to be fine. He turned it into a mantra, repeating it over and over again until he felt like he was back in control, no longer on the precipice of drowning. He disentangled himself from Reggie’s arms, took a deep breath, and met Luke’s gaze.

“I’m ready. Gimme the bad news.”

Luke let out a long breath before sitting down on Alex’s other side.

“The guys were in a car accident. They didn’t even make it to the competition. Willie was in the passenger seat and he took the worst hit in the collision. The other guys got taken to a local hospital, but they had to send Willie to Cedars-Sinai because of some special orthopedic department there. Max said they mentioned he would be admitted to the post-trauma floor.”

A car accident. He didn’t even make it to the competition. Alex had considered himself prepared for the worst when it came to Willie and his chosen profession. He had told himself that loving Willie meant accepting the risk that came with skateboarding, especially at the level that Willie did it. He had not once considered the fact that Willie could be hurt in some type of freak accident that had nothing to do with skating. The life raft slipped from his mental fingers, hurtling him back into the sea of despair once again.

“We got this, okay?” Luke was still speaking. “Reg is gonna call an Uber and take you to the hospital, and I’m gonna get Dante and Felix to help pack up stuff here and then come meet you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Luke’s words painted a path for Alex to follow, a way to move forward without having to fight so hard to do so. He nodded, allowed himself to be bundled out of the employee entrance and into the car Reggie had called. Clung to Reggie’s flannel again as they traversed the white hallways of the hospital, eventually making their way to a nurse’s station situated on the post-trauma surgical floor. Alex didn’t even let himself think about what that string of words implied. Not until Reggie nudged him forward to speak with the blonde-haired woman with kind brown eyes sitting behind the welcome desk. He forced himself to clear the lump in his throat and scrape some words together.

“Hi, I’m uh, my name is Alex. Alex Mercer? I’m looking for my boyfriend Willie? William, actually, his name is William Stewart. He was...he was in a car crash.”

The words came out in starts and stops, cracking at the edges as Alex forced them through numb lips. The nurse nodded, her fingers tapping across the keyboard in a sharp staccato.

“He’s out of surgery, but might still be a bit groggy. The limit is one visitor at a time, so your friend will have to wait out here.”

Alex turned to Reggie with a blank stare.

“You got this, Lex. Remember, he’s gonna be fine. I’ll be right here, and Luke is on his way too. Whatever you need, okay? We got you.”

Alex nodded even though the movement itself felt like a lie. The nurse smiled softly at him and for one split moment Alex wished he could call his mom, hear her comforting voice the way he used to when he was a scared little kid. But he had Luke and Reggie now. And Willie, who was alive somewhere in this hospital.

“He’s in room 604, just down the hall.”

Alex forced his feet to move. Forced himself to count the numbers on the wall until he found 604. Forced himself to open the door and enter the room.

Willie looked so small on the bed, his dark hair a mess across the stark white pillowcase, his leg encased in plaster and suspended from some contraption that hung down from the ceiling. He turned his head at the noise of the door opening, eyes half open and soft with sleep or maybe painkillers. The smile on his face was a mere shadow of its normal sunshine.

“Hey, Hotdog.”

Alex wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and curl into a ball and absolutely lose it. But instead, he walked to the side of Willie’s bed and sat down in the chair next to it that seemed to have been waiting just for him.

“Have you been crying? Please tell me you weren’t crying.”

Okay, Willie was definitely on drugs. Because of course, Alex had been crying.

“Yes, I’ve been crying! Are you kidding me?”

Willie winced slightly and Alex was instantly swamped with guilt.

“No, okay, let me try that again.”

He took a deep breath and reached up to brush a few stray hairs away from Willie’s face. There were a number of cuts and bruises marring his skin, a few of them hidden under bandages.

“Hey pretty boy, I’m so glad you’re not dead. I’ve never been more scared than when I saw that text from Max. I thought you cracked your head open on a halfpipe or something, what the hell happened?”

Willie tried to shrug and grimaced, like it hurt. Alex’s hands fluttered uselessly above his boyfriend’s body, unsure where would be safe to touch. He settled for grabbing the hand that Willie offered which was thankfully unmarked, nothing but some leftover scars from catching himself at the skatepark.

“I think our car flipped? There was a lot of crashing and my leg really fuckin hurt. It’s still hurts.”

Willie frowned, clearly addled from the leftover anesthesia and whatever they were giving him for the pain. Alex pulled his hand up to press a series of kisses across Willie’s knuckles, making sure to cover each scar at least once.

“You can’t die on me, Wills. I fucking love you, okay? I know you do insane stunts and regularly let yourself get beat to crap at the skate park, but you can’t fucking die on me in some stupid car accident. I’d lose my goddamn mind without you.”

“You love me?”

Willie’s voice was soft and awed and Alex suddenly realized he hadn’t ever actually said those words out loud before even though they’d been living in his brain for months now. When he looked into Willie’s eyes he saw a hint of wetness there, and his heart melted.

“Yes, I love you, you fucking dork. I’ve been in love with you for months.”

Willie grinned, dopey eyed and pink cheeked.

“Well, I’ve been in love with you for like, ever. So, I win. Gimme a kiss for my prize.”

Alex laughed and rolled his eyes, but obliged, nonetheless. Willie might not remember this interaction, but Alex would never forget it. A look of absolute peace settled onto his boyfriend’s face.

“I knew you’d come. I knew as soon as that car hit us that when I woke up, you’d be here. You’re the best boyfriend ever, that’s why I love you. And you’re so hot. Like, really hot.”

Alex’s cheeks burned, his heart kicking into overdrive.

“C’mere,” Willie nodded his head to the side and tried to shuffle over, like he was inviting Alex to climb in next to him. He made a disgruntled sound when the contraption his leg was in refused to budge, frowning up at the suspension system.

“That’s so lame, what the fuck? I wanna cuddle.”

And Alex, unable to resist even when he knew it would probably be better for Willie if he did, climbed up to wedge his body into the small space between Willie and the guardrails on his bed. He tucked one arm behind Willie’s head, pulling his face into the space between his neck and shoulder. Willie let out a contented sigh, his breath sending shivers down Alex’s spine.

“You smell like you,” Willie whispered, the sound happy and relaxed. “I love you, Lex.”

“I love you, too.” Alex sighed, kissing his way across every single cut and bruise he could reach without moving.

Willie settled into place, his body going lax and soft snores sounding out against Alex’s chest within moments. Alex let his own head fall to rest against the top of Willie’s, finally allowing himself to believe everything would be okay. When the same nurse came to tell him that his other friend had arrived and maybe it would be best to come back in the morning, he accepted it without complaint. She gave him a final moment to say goodnight, Alex taking the time to make sure Willie was tucked in tight before kissing his temple softly.

Willie was going to be okay, and Alex was going to spend the rest of his life making sure he was always the one there to kiss his scrapes and bruises.

Send me prompts for my second birthday!

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ a Soft Pastel S/O

A/n - So this one actually wasn’t requested, I just thought it would be super cute. And what I mean by “Soft Pastel”, I mean being into soft/pastel/kawaii fashion, I just didn’t know how to phrase it. Since there’s so many subcultures.

Trigger Warning: Slight Cursing (I say f*ck)

Also- these are gender neutral, but a few describe you in skirts/dresses, so if you’re not comfy with that, just skip that part or the whole thing?? :/

I might do more like this for other types of alternative fashion- like punk or something? Or a S/O who has a lot of body mods, I think it would be fun.

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Helen Lyle, Daniel Robitaille/Candyman, Brahms Heelshire, and Amanda Young.

I didn’t add Michael Myers, but can do so if y’all want it. I just think he’d be very indifferent about it...didn’t think that would be very fun to read.

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

Stu would be the most like into your outfits

Billy? Not so much. he just thinks you look cute in everything.

but if you did more guro-kawaii looks? they would both be all over that shit. 

it combines more of the grotesque in with the cute- which is just perfect for the boys. they get to see you dawned in all sorts of blood, guts/gore, bandage patterns/aesthetics.

and maybe even tying in different monster-ish elements. 

like wearing funky white or other unnatural colored contacts, really intense makeup(especially around the eyes), and fuck it, maybe you’re wearing faux demon horns.

I think they’d find it kinda hot. if we’re being perfectly honest here.

Now- would you able to get them into it as well?

Stu will ask you, with excitement reverberating throughout out his body and his voice. of course he want’s to at least try it!

so many clips in Stu’s hair. you haven’t even had that many in your hair before!

he may also wear rings sometimes. he thinks all the colors and designs are just so fun!

and on the other hand...

Billy, the guy that basically wore the same outfit for an entire movie? who’s closet only contains jeans and white t-shirts? trying out your style? i don’t think so lol

if you do- somehow- get him to try...

then you might have pressured him into it a bit? very jokingly, of course. 

“C’mon, humor me, babe. Stu’s already dressed and everything!” You try giving him puppy eyes to seal the deal.

“Fine!” Billy says, grabbing the garment and a few clips from your hands. He shuts the door too harshly behind him.

A short silence is shared, before you and Stu burst out laughing. “Do you think he’s mad at us?” You’re hardly able to get it out. Of course he was, but in his own odd way appreciated this adventure.

He comes back a moment later, his white t-shirt replaced with a pastel red one, an especially gory character printed on the front. and a red clip barely hanging on to one of the side pieces of hair in front of his face. You try to suppress a giggle at Billy’s messily put together look.

for the love of gosh- don’t actually laugh when he appears. he is very outside of his comfort zone, and he’s only doing this because he loves you and Stu, and just,, don’t add this to his list of reasons not to try new things.

whatever your reaction ends up being, you’re absolutely obligated to tell them how attractive they look in it(even Billy who looks hella dorky).

(my art)

The Lost Boys

the comparison between their dark, punk-ish style and then the sweet baby pinks and blues, and soft lavenders that adorned your form?? 

it’s just too sweet.

they are completely enamored by your style- even if certain vampires (and I’m not naming any names, but I definitely mean David) may not show his love for your look as openly

Marko- he’d get one cutesy patch for his jacket, so he has like a little piece of you everywhere he goes. also...he genuinely ended up really digging your style? but not enough to abandon his punk look completely. he is still totally dedicated to that.

the other boys will absolutely mess with him about the patch though

all in good fun!

David’s not letting you near his hair with any extra clips or accessories. 

Dwayne enjoys the quiet intimacy shared between the two of you. just sitting together, you might be styling his hair( super loose ponytail or braid- admit it, it would be so cute! and helpful so his hair isn’t always in his face!)...anyways, you’d use a colorful hair tie, and a few clips to help pin back his hair. 

he probably won’t go out with the clips in, but if it’s just the five of you at the cave? he’ll keep it in until it’s time to sleep. 

he loves seeing how happy and accomplished you look after finishing with his hair tho.

Paul is hands down the most likely to get into the whole look and go out in public with it on. 

makeup? hell yeah. it won’t be as intense as yours, and he probably only does the eyes and maybe some shine. sparkly vampire time

hair accessories? all of them

would try combining his look with yours, to have a perfect mess of it.

a light, light  blue mesh top, slightly darker blue jacket(with slight accents in pink, purple, white or black), and his usual sort of white jeans(?) would still look great with it. he’s absolutely rocking that look.

you are ecstatic to finally have someone else to share your passion with! (much harder to find similar folks when you’re a vampire,,)

Helen Lyle

she’s so used to the plain life around her, and she’d been living before you- you were such a breath of fresh air.

of course, you’re darling personality also drew her into you- but your fashion sense? it fascinated her.

she’s not trying it herself anytime soon, but she appreciates the fact that you enjoy it. 

the most she would ever try is a very natural makeup look. and a coat or two of a pastel color of her choice.

she would love watching you get ready. not so much help out though- she just likes seeing the way you approach things. how you choose to pair certain pieces with one another.

she’ll ask questions to better understand your interests! not that it’s weird or wrong that you’re into it, she’s just a very inquisitive person.

you’d wear a lot of blue though- because you know Helen likes that color.

imagine wearing coordinated looks for different events and such. so, when you go with Helen to help out with her Candyman thesis, you might wear candy-themed attire. (of course in this universe,, she wouldn’t die! so no worries of that! you get to keep you’re gf).

if you do gift her something, she keeps it on her bedside table(or dresser). so she can still admire it, and still serves a purpose. fun décor!

all around though- Helen would be very chill, but captivated, about you’re interests.

Daniel Robitaille - Candyman

 his life is so dark and gruesome, and he loves seeing you all dressed up. 

and while he’s dead- long dead- and isn’t really apart of the world in the same sense that you are- it gives him this happy sense of hope for the world.

because there’s this very small thing, that you hold close to your heart, that makes you smile.

Also!!

even if they’re apart of a super awful, traumatic, part of his past- the bees are just a part of the family now.  

so cute yellow/spring/bee themed outfits?? yes. ohh definitely, yes.

As for him dressing up? He’d feel hesitant.

he’s filled with immense joy around you, but is almost scared with someone altering part of his attire or self in any way(rooted back to, again, past stuff).

but part of loving is to take the person as a whole, bad parts, good parts- insecurities- the entire package. and trusting one another.

he has his whole faith in you not to do anything bad.

and so, it becomes a habit for the two of you to spend mornings together, chatting and getting ready. well, you’re getting ready, it’s more for the quality time together for him.

things are little different for Daniel. for many reasons. 

one, he has very short hair. so the clips don’t really work there..

two- he only has one hand, and he’s “working” a lot with the appendages he does have. rings won’t work out because they might fall off- and he’d hate to lose something of yours.

three- he’s not a big makeup fan. he’s happy enough watching you put it on.

and then for his actual attire- he needs the coat to cover his insides. it’s also, in a way, his uniform.

you’ve settled on two things.

making homemade necklaces that can easily hide under his big coat (either sweets or honey/bee themed).

and sewing little patterns on the inside of his coat. other’s wouldn’t be able to see it, but he would know it’s there.

Brahms Heelshire

imagine being super into sorta ‘sweet lolita’, pastel/soft colors, bows, the big skirts, all the sorta ruffles(?)

 and then especially if your shorter than Brahms(which is really,, not hard to do unless you’re insanely tall cause he’s,, 6 foot 3.)- and he thinks you look like such a doll? 

but like,, in a nice way. 

I think he’d get pretty excited if he got to help you set up your outfits!

especially if you praised him for picking out a good combo, or organizing correctly.

and some of Brahms movements are a bit awkward, he’s spent most of his life in the walls and the attic...but imagine turning on his music, and just dancing with him. having him twirl you in his arms a few times.

Brahms loves having your hands through his hair. and if hair accessories means he gets more of that love and attention? then yes,, yes he will wear them.

he just likes feeling taken care of, and along with your usual duties, you help him figure out the soft fashion styles, and how to make it more appealing and suitable for his own tastes.

because- as you insist- you want it to be something he enjoys just because he does, and not just for the closeness. though you can’t deny you love that aspect, too.

i can tell you one thing right here, though. you’re never getting makeup on him. he does not like taking off his mask, even if you’ve been in a relationship with him for a while, he still hides his face a lot.

you’d offered to do his makeup once, since he was staring so intently as you did yours. you’d made the mistake of reaching for his mask. you’d usually ask before doing so, but sometimes you’d slip up.

You apologize profusely, offering your arms out to him for a hug. “There, there, Brahms.” You smile, giving him a slight squeeze of affection. 

he does take your stuff sometimes. 

it’s a little annoying when you think you’ve lost your favorite accessory or dress or etc and then you just realize,, oh, it’s my favorite wall boy again. thank gosh you love him, so you’re not really upset or anything.

he just likes having little reminders of you, it gives him reassurance. upon other warm and fuzzy feelings.

if you’re able to find time in your day though, you’ll make cute little trinkets or bracelets for him. you’ll gift them or purposely leave them out for him-  so you’ll still have some of your stuff when it comes to getting ready the next day.

in short- he’d much rather look at you than partake on his own. 

Amanda Young

she’s never seen anything like this! :0

everyone she knows, herself included, tend to wear more dulled, plain clothes.

she’s immediately very intrigued by your attire...sort of want’s to try it, but is a bit self conscious and embarrassed to ask.

So!! you start out with small things, and fairly early on you both realize that she loves when you decorate her hair with accessories. 

gifting Amanda a pair of little pig clips!!

or little stud earrings- those would be fricking adorable on her!

and she’s just so happy,, wtf

you dress mostly for yourself, but the more you’re in a relationship with your gf- the more you want to dress for her as well. 

you can see this little sparkle in her eye when she sees you, and you want to keep seeing that look for as long as you can.

you slowly get her into it. your relationship and Amanda’s interest in your style just gives her so much light in an otherwise dim world.

if she did get into it, I think she’d do more creepy/cute. as a way to sort of cope with past trauma. that this sort of “bad” thing (the creepy) can still coexist with the good (the cute). she admires that quality.

just very sweet partners, who happen to love similar types of fashion 

[amedetoiles]

In another installment of things I should absolutely not be adding to my already large collection of unfinished google docs, I once more have absolutely no self control, so about that post on wedding planner!WWX.....

Set in the same verse as this. Very on brand of me to start writing a sequel for a fic I have yet to finish. Post-canon, post-reconciliation, and WQ is alive because I say so.

---

In retrospect, Jiang Cheng probably should have predicted this.

Jiang Cheng has grown up with Wei Wuxian. He knows exactly the level of ridiculousness his brother can reach. Nearly all of his childhood was dedicated to learning this exact fact. Compounded with that is how fully Wei Wuxian always throws himself into any project that catches his brother’s attention. For a long time, that had been a-jie’s wedding.

All those late nights he and Wei Wuxian had spent planning together, mapping out detailed seating charts, and designing elaborate challenges for the groom. Wei Wuxian, practically delirious with childish excitement, had proposed and demanded in equal measure extravagance after extravagance because their sister only deserved the very best in the world.

Even still, Jiang Cheng can’t say that he had expected exactly... this.

Three days after Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing tell their family about their betrothal, Wei Wuxian bursts into Jiang Cheng’s office mid-morning, his hair still uncombed and sticking out in multiple directions. His arms are full of scrolls, which he proceeds to unceremoniously dump across Jiang Cheng’s desk.

Wei Wuxian ignores Jiang Cheng’s indignant squawking and speaks rapidly, all of his words running together, and practically vibrating on his feet with a frenzy that brings Jiang Cheng abruptly back to their childhood, laying on the floor of their shared room with scrolls strewn all around them and listening while Wei Wuxian raves enthusiastically about his latest idea for a challenge.

Lan Wangji stands at the doorway, alternating between looking worried that Wei Wuxian might asphyxiate with how fast he is speaking and giving Jiang Cheng a look that says this is under no uncertain terms completely Jiang Cheng’s fault as usual.

(In the three years since his brother married Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji have formed an extremely respectful and productive relationship of tolerating each other’s presence for the exact minimum duration it takes to make Wei Wuxian happy. It is still too long for either of them.)

“The Mao and Guo sects are still feuding so they need to be seated as far apart as possible,” Wei Wuxian is saying, barely pausing for breath as he flits from topic to topic with a speed that leaves Jiang Cheng feeling faintly dizzy. “Fan shushu says he will share his recipe for Qing-jie’s xi bing. The head of the lotus harvesters will arrange to have water lilies transported from the southern borders. I have some designs for the invitations that you and Qing-jie can take a look at. And – Oh!”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes light up suddenly with an unholy fervor that has never, ever boded well for Jiang Cheng, and then Wei Wuxian turns, calls I have to go! over his shoulder, and leaves as quickly as he came. Lan Wangji makes sure to shoot Jiang Cheng one final accusatory glare before following after his husband because Wei Wuxian couldn’t have married someone that wasn’t a huge petty bitch.

Jiang Cheng sits, shocked still, his desk looking like a storm had blown by, and stares at the empty space where his brother was just standing.

He may have slightly miscalculated.

---

A month later, Jiang Cheng contemplates taking Wen Qing and running away to a deserted mountain. (Who says Wei Wuxian is the only one allowed to do that anyway? At least his mountain won’t be prone to murder.)

He won’t of course. He is the Jiang sect leader, and since his birth, his wedding has always been expected to have the pomp and circumstance befitting that of a leader of a great sect. He would never run out on that responsibility no matter how fucking crazy Wei Wuxian is driving him.

But Jiang Cheng does think about it, very wistfully.

He even brings it up half-seriously with Wen Qing one morning after a disciple comes to inform him that Wei Wuxian had had his schedule completely cleared without Jiang Cheng’s knowledge or permission. Jiang Cheng is now expected to meet his brother at the gate in a quarter shichen’s time for who knows what because his brother is as obnoxiously forthcoming as he has always been.

Wen Qing laughs at him because she is terrible, and he has clearly made a huge mistake.

She also presses a light kiss to his cheek and promises to threaten Wei Wuxian with needles later if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and rest before leaving to have tea with Luo Qingyang because she’s also pretty fantastic, and Jiang Cheng has made the best decision of his life.

Even if it means standing in the middle of the tailor shop while Wei Wuxian darts around him like a deranged bird, dangling various fabric samples in front of Jiang Cheng, frowning for some obscure reason he doesn’t deign to tell Jiang Cheng because who cares what Jiang Cheng thinks about his own wedding, tossing the piece of fabric onto the growing no pile, and then picking up yet another.

On the eleventh turn of this, Jiang Cheng feels a sharp throb against his temple and takes a deep slow breath, then another, and another, so he doesn’t scream, or strangle his brother with the fabrics.

“You do realize that this is my fucking wedding?” Jiang Cheng growls with frustration.

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian says immediately, nodding in a way that feels like he’s actually taking Jiang Cheng seriously even as he picks up yet another fabric sample. Jiang Cheng bites his tongue to keep himself from shouting and glares.

Wei Wuxian continues before Jiang Cheng can speak (yell), moving to hold the fabric against Jiang Cheng’s face, “But you’re my little brother.”

Jiang Cheng blinks, opens his mouth and then closes it. His throat feels suddenly inexplicably tight. An embarrassing warmth expands rapidly beneath his rib cage, and he thinks he might actually choke on it.

He looks at the fabric instead of his brother’s face because he will not cry. The red silk is a shade lighter than Wei Wuxian’s customary color and of exceptionally high quality. (That Wei Wuxian has been choosing from the most expensive of silks has not escaped Jiang Cheng’s attention. He has been trying and failing to not have feelings about this.) The patterning is beautiful, the soft, gentle swirls reminiscent of the lakes surrounding Yunmeng.

It isn’t something Jiang Cheng would have chosen on his first glance through. It is, he realizes with a swoop in his stomach, something a-jie might have picked out.

Jiang Cheng has, until now, avoided thinking too hard about all the empty spaces at his wedding, still riding the steady wonder that fills him every time he looks at the comb tucked neatly against Wen Qing’s hair. And after these last few years of having his brother beside him again, of their misshapen family relearning to fit together with all its new pieces, it is almost, almost, unfamiliar to feel that old aching loss rise within him.

He wonders how much of Wei Wuxian’s frenzied insanity is because he is feeling it too.

After all, Jiang Cheng remembers the months of spreading himself thin between sect obligations and wedding preparations, of tracking down the finest fabrics and jewelry that Jiang and Jin gold could buy in between meetings and conferences, of trying and trying and trying to make up for an absence that creased the edges of a-jie’s eyes in sorrow, even when she stood, radiant in red and gold on her wedding day.

“Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asks, his voice and gaze softening with concern.

Jiang Cheng swallows several times, his eyes prickling along with his nose, and he stares at the spot above Wei Wuxian’s head. You don’t have to do this, he wants to say. You don’t need to do this. “It isn’t atrocious I guess,” is what comes out.

Even in his periphery, he can see Wei Wuxian’s eyes crinkle with a familiar fondness. His brother nods and lays the fabric gently down on what Jiang Cheng supposes is now the yes pile.

“As expected of Jiang zongzhu,” Wei Wuxian says in a teasing tone that he only uses when he wants to piss off Jiang Cheng.

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng says swiftly, without any heat. Then, adds, “Yiling Laozu.”

Wei Wuxian laughs and shoves him. “Fuck off,” he says, but he’s smiling as he turns and picks up the next sample, and Jiang Cheng feels his own lips curve in an answering smile.

Okay, he thinks. Okay. He can do this.

He can let his brother have this. Maybe they can both have this.