#drew him at least four times and it STILL doesn’t look right

[coco0milkshake]

redraw of Nine

doodle dump:

[wemustgatekeepwooyoung]

House of Cards

synopsis: you and your sneaky link, Jung Wooyoung, who you met on a dating app four months ago, finally decide to make it official over a round of Crazy Eights*

pairing: (non idol)! Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

genre: romance, fluff

word count: 2,3k

content/warnings: !!!mentions of your previous sexual activities, not you actually having sex!!! ,small tensile environment throughout your game session that lead to your confession, pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby,).

author’s note: now this, this is a sample of what I normally enjoy writing. It comes more naturally to me but who doesn’t enjoy a good smut too? I’ve got many things cooking but my exams are right on the corner so I’m kinda screwed in terms of free time, cause I got NONE. Sorry ‘Don’t be a stranger, stranger’ is taking so long, I’m still kinda skeptical about it. Anyway, I’ll try my best not to just be active but also productive . It’s not something I can guarantee though. Hope your excitement stays present till my next update? Bye bye <3

*Crazy Eights is a shedding-type card game for two to seven players and the best known American member of the Eights Group which also includes Pig and Spoons. The object of the game is to be the first player to discard all of their cards. The game is similar to Switch, Mau Mau or Whot!. -Wikipedia

“You’re good Jung Wooyoung but I’m not going to give it to you that easily”

“You always say that and then end up moaning my name dear” he teased

“Can you stick to the game?”

“Yes ma’am!” he said and drew a card from the card deck only for him to draw another and another and another… “Shit how many’s it been?“

“I’d say you’ve drawn about half deck. Why? Can’t you properly fit them in between your fingers?”

“Now who’s the one not sticking to the game?”

“Well I never implied anything, it’s you that’s all messed up and pervy” you said and poked him softly on his thigh

“Oh am I?”

“Of course you are. You can’t even hold all those cards, one keeps falling every now and then. Are you that ‘frustrated’? ” you mocked him once again.

It’s been your new favourite hobby these past four months of ‘seeing him’. You two met on Tinder once he first moved into your city. He didn’t know anyone and had no connections with people, so, that’s what led him to joining the world’s most famous dating app.

You two clicked right away. Sex was what ensured your bonding at first, a few weeks passed and you kept meeting each other. He’s probably fucked you on every surface possible and you’re living your moment. Oh and sex calls… Y’all are wild.

You’ve finally found a man that can match your sexual desires. Not too vanilla but not too harsh. Just the perfect mixture of intimacy, freedom and that specific taste of filth you go crazy for.

You’ve gotten pretty close too. You even have sleepovers after wilding out on each other, it’s not just about sex like you both had noted on your profiles when you first talked. At least not anymore.

It almost feels like…

“Ha! Finally! Lets see how you can beat that-“ he said, still struggling to hold all these cards.

“Why don’t you leave some aside? It’s okay to cheat when it’s us two right?” you proposed only to be greeted with his seriousness, a rare occurrence.

“No. No cheating, ever. I’ll manage somehow” he said and then fell yet another card. He rolled his eyes and grabbed that card with his mouth, keeping it still among his beautiful plump lips.

What a sight. You keep staring like the obsessed one you are while he’s in such a difficult position! What a menace! It’s funny how he tangles you so well in between his fingers and yet he can’t really make happen to hold those cards right. Cute.

“Mmh?” he whined and you finally let out that laugh you’ve been holding onto. You squeezed his cheek and placed a gentle slap on it, making him question your mood.

He looked at you confused as you melted while holding eye contact. You really really adore this man and his pretty seductive lips. You gave a look-over to the cards , of which you’ve already made a stack after playing them, so that he strikes his next move.

He strategically looked over his cards, trying to pick the best one for his own sake. Hm… ‘What if?’ he thought. ‘What about that one on my lips?’ he thought more precisely. How could he though, he can’t even hold that card among the others, how can he now take it from his lips and place it on top of the others to make his move? He looked up the ceiling to find a way when he thought of the perfect one.

“Take it” he mumbled and you looked at him confused as you couldn’t quite understand. He repeated his phrase but still no recognition coming from his beloved, you.

He rolled his eyes again and with a quick motion, he tried handing it over to you with a similar strategy to pecking your lips. He balanced himself on his hands as he leaned close to you, trying to give you the card he wants to play with so you’d so it for him.

Your heart skipped a beat by how spontaneous he is, a characteristic of his you find very attractive. You replied with a similar gesture, accepting the card with your own lips and playing it for him.

A cute smile filled with success and pride of his showed up and made you smile back. How could you resist the way his smile cracks his cheeks and reveals his adorable mole on his lower lip? You just really love his lips don’t you?

“It’s your turn to play sweetheart.”

“Right” you said, still under the influence of his flirty action

“Are you distracted? I thought we should pay attention!”

“No I’m paying great attention!”

“Yeah but you should pay it on the game don’t you think?” he said and earned a smack on his right shoulder that made him chuckle “You’re so cute” he commented and watched you closely as you were trying to pick your next card

“Why’d you have the need to make me question myself all the time?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it so that you’re to have the advantage baby. We both know you do”

“I’m not going to say that I do and be defeated that easily”

“Okay, then try not to be defeated elsewhere too, I can now hold my cards. Shit’s getting serious” he reported like he was a journalist or something. Playing all sophisticated like he isn’t the biggest crackhead the world has ever seen. Also, how can one come out being sophisticated when he speaks like that?

You put on a smirk as you’re starting to enjoy his devotion. Card games have been your thing lately. You play all the time. It’s mostly you winning and him wondering why he lost when all he did during it’s duration was tease you.

“You know damn well that I’ll win this time too”

“Do you bet on it?” he asked with a grin on his face

“What do I have to lose? I said I’ll win anyway”

“And if you don’t?”

“If I don’t… Then, what’d you have me do to feel fulfilled?” you wondered

He’ll probably want to do something naughty later, something you’ve probably never tried before that’s been messing him up. He’s a very kinky guy, what else could it be?

“You’ll answer a question I’ve picked for you especially . But there’s no denying it. You’ll have to do it princess”

Fuck. Why’s anxiety being built up inside you now? Why’s your stomach bothered? He really knows how to play. Fucking Jung Wooyoung, he annoys you so much sometimes that you want to punch him in the face. But first of all, he’s too pretty to be punched and second, you have no reason to be scared. You’ll win again after all, won’t you? What’s a little test going to cost you?

“Bet” you replied and a naughty smirk popped on his face. Maybe he’s using all this as a roleplay only to ask you a stupid question in the end. But no, he won’t even have the chance to, cause you’ll win, right?

The heat’s getting real. He has gotten rid of most of his cards while you still are trying to play your last one. Your hands are starting to shake as his competitiveness is now at the highest it’s ever been in all the games you’ve played together so far.

You’re both focused but it’s clear who has the upper hand once again. You’re actually facing a big difficulty here, all this hasn’t come unnoticed to you. He’s actually good. Really good. Where did that come from? Is it that the question he has to ask is that important that it gives him motivation to go hard on you? What the heck?

And before you’d had the chance to realise it, he placed his final card on the card stack, your eyes focused on his motion not able to withstand this happening.

You were actually defeated by Jung Wooyoung, what a day! You never thought that this would happen. All your anxiety has left your body, you’re actually surprised and excited for your future matches. What can one say, you two live for all that tension that’s being crafted for the final dominator’s sake.

All he did was stare at you like he wanted to absorb all the dignity he had just earned from his victory. He clapped for himself and cheered like a little child. Furthermore you too burst into applause for him, proud of that little accomplishment of his. He deserves it.

“Good job Wooyo! How come you made such an upgrade?”

“I really wanted to ask you that question”

“Is it a bad one?”

“You might need some wine for it go down smoothly. Actually it’s me that wants the wine to finally spill that information.”

“Fuck” you hissed at yourself as he went over and grabbed two beautifully sculpted glasses for your usual ‘drunkards’ moment. “Isn’t that too much?”

“I’ll have that one” he said and swallowed it all at once, causing a little of it to spill down his chin. You gently wiped it off and pecked his lips, understanding the difference from their usual taste. “So… Can I make a prologue?”

“Go on”

“Okay… So, how do I even begin? I’m totally not made for this stuff. You see, I’d forgotten how to be a romantic”

‘Why’s he bringing that up so suddenly?’ ,you thought.

“Fuck it, here I go.” he said in very a determined tone before letting out a big sigh “Could you ever possibly fall for a guy like me?”

C’mon, pretend to be shocked Y/N! You can’t do that though, you can’t pretend, cause you are in fact, shocked.

“What kind of question is that…?”

“It’s stupid I know. I’ll ask another one, forget about it”

“No! No it’s not stupid!” you said and held his hands in yours “Of course I would.”

“So you haven’t already, I see. Cause I have”

“You have?!”

“Yes Y/N, poor me has developed feelings for you”

“Poor you?”

“The ‘poor me’ part goes for it being one sided. But I’m a lucky one, getting the opportunity to spend time with you and make such bets. It’s okay, no need to love me back”

‘Love him back’ ?!!?!? He’s actually having you so moved that you might as well make your confession. Why shouldn’t you? Hasn’t he been your comfort person all these months? Hasn’t he made you feel like you’ve got a reason to be excited and happy? Don’t you love spending time with him and getting to see all his aspects? You really do, he’s amazing and you know it. He’s your favorite person. You can’t imagine your life without him anymore and you can’t imagine his life without you.

You love comforting him and so does he. You love being there and watching him get excited over the smallest of everyday things. You love being there and watching him be sad and live through all these human emotions and listen to his struggles. You love it when he opens up to you about his feelings, so the shock you’re now experiencing has a taste of delightfulness to it. You just love him, you really do. You love Jung Wooyoung and the pretty world he has created in his head where he so desperately wants to take you with him so as to enjoy it while accompanying one another.

The tension’s still in the air and you can tell that his desperation has now become an acknowledgement of a false conclusion. And it’s finally time, time for you to give your answer, containing your explanation and confession.

“Me too”

“You too what? I’ve lost the context, sorry love”

“I have feelings for you too Wooyoung.”

“You do?!”

“Yes I do” you told him and this statement took him some seconds to be processed the way it should.

“Of course you do” he said then, proudly, bringing the Woo you know and fell for back on stage ”Won’t you scold me and call me an arrogant asshole?”

“No this time I won’t.”

“Really? Crap and it turns me on so well baby you have no idea” he admitted like his degradation kink was something you didn’t know of already.

He leaned again over the cards to kiss you, throwing them all over the place, causing you both to laugh in between kisses.

“So now what?” he asked and began to kiss down your neck

“What do you mean what?” you replied breathlessly while also trying to give out the focus that was asked of you in a case like this.

“What are we now?”

“We still need time to show us that, I think”

“You’re right. Let’s start from scratch then shall we not?” he proposed and turned you around, ready to make about his feelings again in a language you two’ve been practicing for the time period of the the past four months.

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 12: "Considering the Offer"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: Another painful installment that is about to bring us to what I consider to be the worst angst of this whole series next. This one certainly hurts, though. Feedback is always appreciated--and so are theories about what happens next even if my lips are sealed!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks

“Look at us!” Foggy exclaimed, raising his beer bottle high up in the air, clearly still wound up from the win in court earlier today as his eyes scanned over everyone around the table. “All of us together again tonight! How often does that happen?”

“Well, not all of us,” Karen pointed out, nudging you beside her with her elbow. “We are missing Adam tonight.”

Foggy held up a hand, shooting you an apologetic smile as he shook his head. Internally you cringed, your heart aching at the mention of Adam, but you bit your tongue and kept your mouth shut. You weren’t about to correct anyone, not tonight. Especially when you weren’t prepared to come up with a partial truth as to why he actually wasn't here, because you needed some reason that would make it past Matt’s human lie detector abilities that you always kept in mind if you were to tell them the truth. And currently you weren’t in the mood to think of one.

“You’re right, Karen, I’m sorry. We aren’t all fully together tonight,” Foggy amended. “We are, unfortunately, one person short this evening.”

“Though you did manage to wrangle me back to Josie’s,” Marci said, her arm still wrapped around Foggy’s waist. “And how you managed that again remains a mystery.”

Marci’s eyes dropped down to her glass, openly studying it with distaste. She’d often made it clear she wasn’t a fan of coming out to Josie’s, preferring that you would all someday make your ritual hangout place at a nicer bar.

“At least this time I wasn’t the one who was unavailable,” Erica said, her slender arm casually draped over Matt’s shoulder. 

Inevitably her voice drew your gaze all the way across the table. Her attention was focused on Matt, a smile crossing her pretty face. A sharp pang of jealousy struck you like a white hot fire in your veins when you saw Matt turn his focus on the beautiful dark blonde sitting beside him, a large smile forming on his own lips underneath his glasses as he leaned in towards her.

“You’re right, for once I got you out of the office and all to myself,” he playfully teased. “Which certainly doesn’t happen often enough.”

He leaned in to place a lingering kiss on her cheek and your eyes quickly dropped down to your beer before you, your fingers running along the condensation of the bottle. You did your best to try to ignore the sound of Erica’s giggle and the feel of your erratically beating heart at what was happening across the table. Pressing your lips firmly together, you fought hard to keep them from visibly trembling. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Karen was looking at you, but you tried your best to ignore that, too. 

It had been a little over four months now since you’d learned Matt wasn’t dead, having found out when you’d seen him sitting and having a drink with your friends at Father Lantom’s wake. It was only a couple of months after that when Marci–who’d begun dating Foggy recently–had introduced Matt to one of the lawyers at her firm. Erica Kaminski. And he’d quickly grown fond of her real fast.

You'd met her a few weeks after you'd heard Matt first talking about her. She was apparently an impressive defense attorney herself, one who was incredibly busy and very focused and passionate about her work. She was sweet, too. Nice. Which made it absolutely impossible to hate her despite how beautiful, confident, charismatic, and successful she was. She was practically Matt's perfect match, even if she wasn't necessarily as crazy about taking on pro bono cases like he was. 

They looked perfect together, too, with his dark hair, handsome face, and the strong build not very well hidden underneath his suits next to her lithe and leggy form and her model-like face and perfect hair. They looked like some sort of power couple and it physically pained you to see them together whenever you did. Especially whenever you saw Matt leaning over to give her sweet kisses to the cheek or the forehead–even worse when you had to witness a passionate kiss on the lips. Every single time it always felt like your heart was further withering inside of your chest, gradually shriveling up into a goddamn raisin. 

She didn’t know about Matt’s alter ego, though. Nor did she know about his heightened senses. And Matt had made it very clear that none of you were to say anything about it to her. You’d understood why at first, but as the weeks wore on and Matt seemed further smitten with this woman, you’d started to wonder how things were going to continue on if he didn’t tell her the truth. How could he have a relationship with someone if they didn’t really know who he was? How could he know she really wanted to be with him– all of him–if she didn’t know there was more that he wasn’t telling her? You’d kept your mouth shut about it, but you’d always bitterly thought he was making the wrong decision by planning to keep her in the dark. Not that you felt she needed to know everything after only two and a half months, but with the way these two seemed to be going–at least with how Matt talked about her–you had a feeling she’d be reaching a point where she deserved to know the truth. And Matt deserved to be with someone who loved that other side of him, too. 

Though admittedly, you felt like Matt was far more into Erica than she was into him. Not necessarily in a bad way on her part, but you often got the she’s-very-married-to-her-career sort of vibe from her. She was often unavailable to make plans with Matt, usually too focused on something with work. Sometimes work would even call her away when she’d been out–even if she was on a date with Matt. Whereas Matt had latched onto Erica like he’d had back at Columbia when he’d met Elektra. It almost seemed like some level of an unhealthy co-dependency he’d formed with her that you couldn’t quite make sense of, though of course you would never ask him about it. You figured it had something to do with whatever had happened to him after Midland, but he always seemed so happy with her that you’d tried to ignore it.

But as you spotted them kissing across the table out of your peripheral, you felt like you were about to be sick. As if she noticed exactly what was going on, Karen leaned over towards you.

“Want to grab another drink with me?” she asked.

You nodded, lips still firmly pressed together as you instantly pushed your chair back. Sliding off of it, you maneuvered around Foggy and Marci before making a straight line for the bar counter, your eyes locked on Josie pouring out a beer behind it.

“Something’s going on with you,” Karen pointed out as she fell in step beside you. “It’s written all over your face.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

Karen snorted, shaking her head. “Okay, I may not be Matt, but even I know that’s a lie,” she shot back.

You sighed as the pair of you reached the counter, leaning forward to rest your elbows up onto it. Turning, you glanced at Karen’s inquisitive and concerned face beside you. One of her brows rose onto her forehead in a silent question. Your eyes slowly slid back to the table your friends were at, a frown slipping onto your face as you spotted Foggy and Matt both focused on their girlfriends. Really, though, the nauseous feeling in your stomach was due to the intense focus Matt had on Erica and the hand he had on her knee as he was talking to her. Biting your tongue, your focus returned to Karen.

“Are we still grabbing brunch tomorrow?” you asked her.

She nodded quickly. “Yeah, I was planning on it,” she answered. “Why?”

“I’ll tell you everything then,” you told her, your focus shifting on Josie as she made her way towards the pair of you. “When it’s just us.”

The waitress placed the plate of eggs benedict in front of you and you thanked her softly as she did. The food looked good–as it always did here–but admittedly your stomach was churning a little at the conversation you knew you were about to continue. Eyes glancing back up, you saw Karen across the booth from you still staring at you unblinkingly, her mind clearly still on the conversation that had been interrupted just now. When the waitress placed Karen’s food in front of her, Karen muttered a ‘thank you’ quickly, but her gaze never left you.

“Is there anything else I can get for you two?” the chipper waitress asked, her focus darting between you and Karen.

“I think we’re good,” you answered, shooting her a tense smile. “Thank you.”

She nodded before turning and heading off to a nearby table. Karen immediately leaned forward across the table towards you, her blue eyes intense as she ignored the steaming plate now between where her elbows rested on the table.

“Okay, let’s back up and go back to where we were,” she said. “You were offered a new position?”

“Yeah,” you said, picking up your mimosa. You felt like one was not going to be enough for this conversation. “My boss has loved my initiative ever since…well, you know.”

Karen’s face fell immediately, a frown pulling at her lips. “I’m sorry about that,” she apologized, her eyes softening from the piercing stare she’d had for the past few minutes. “I really am, we shouldn’t have–”

You waved a hand, cutting her off as you clutched your mimosa tighter in the other. “Hey, it’s over, right? What’s done is done. None of you can take it back and you and Foggy have apologized like a thousand times already. And Matt probably ten times as much,” you muttered, drawing the glass to your mouth for a drink. Swallowing the cold liquid down, you added, “It is what it is at this point. I know why you all did it, but that doesn’t make it hurt less when I think about it.”

Across the table, Karen sat back in the booth. A look of guilt had taken residence on her face and you felt bad, but you weren’t about to console her for what had happened. Because admittedly that image of the three of them in Nelson’s jovially chatting when you walked in still plagued your mind some nights. As did the image of Matt and Erica kissing.

“But yes, my company has been doing well this past year and they’ve been focused on expanding,” you continued, bringing the conversation back around. “My boss has been loving my dedication to my work and the things I’ve been producing for the company, so he wanted to offer me the new position opening up first.”

“What’s it include?” she asked carefully.

“A massive pay increase,” you told her. “Like...almost double my salary now.”

Karen’s eyes grew wide across the table, her jaw dropping. “Are you fucking serious?” she breathed out. “You already make a good living–and they would almost double that?”

You nodded, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Karen’s eyes immediately caught the movement and they instantly narrowed at you.

“What else does it include?” she asked.

“Well, like I said,” you continued a little nervously, “my company is expanding. Outside of New York City.”

You saw the moment realization dawned and her face fell across from you, her shoulders dropping at the information. “How far outside of New York City?” she asked.

Biting your lip, your focus dropped down to your plate of untouched food. Nervously your fingers fidgeted with the fork on the table. Karen was the first of your friend group you were telling all of this to.

“Los Angeles,” you told her.

You winced at the sharp intake of breath across the table, your eyes slowly making their way back up to her face. One of her hands had flown up, covering up half the look of shock now present there. Your stomach felt like it dropped to the floor, your appetite quickly leaving you. 

“So you’re leaving?” she whispered.

You shrugged a shoulder lightly in response. “I mean, I haven’t accepted anything,” you replied. “They offered me the position two weeks ago. They aren’t exactly in a rush right now for an answer because they’re still getting the new office together out there. But they really want me for this position. I’m pretty sure my boss is prepared to beg.”

“That’s–that’s incredible,” Karen said, a sad smile on her face as her hand fell back to her lap. “Really, that’s amazing.”

“Thanks,” you muttered.

“So–so what’re you thinking, then?” she asked. “I imagine you’ve been thinking about it for a bit now.”

“I–I’m considering it,” you confessed, heart hammering in your chest as you did. “Really considering it, actually. That’s a lot of money. I’ve never been that far west, either.”

“What about Adam?” Karen immediately asked. “What’s he say about all of this?”

Taking a deep breath, you sat back in the booth now, entirely ignoring your plate of food. Exhaling roughly, you prepared to drop another bomb on Karen.

“We broke up,” you told her.

“ What ?” she asked in disbelief. “Why? When? You two were doing amazing, what happened?”

Your eyes dropped down to your lap. Nervously you were wringing your hands together, your chest feeling tight.

“Almost two weeks ago,” you answered. “Shortly after I got the offer. I was thinking about it for a few days, mulling it over, you know? And I knew I needed to tell him about it because it’s not like I could just make a big decision like that on my own. But he–he really didn’t want to leave New York. His family is here and he loves where he works.” You paused, your eyes still unable to meet Karen’s. “He asked me to stay here with him. Wanted me to move in. Talked about…wanting more with me.”

Karen once again sucked in an audible breath across the table. Your fingers only fidgeted faster in your lap at the sound.

“He wanted to marry you?” Karen asked.

Swallowing hard, you nodded. The far too familiar sting of tears were in your eyes again and you fought to blink them back.

“I liked Adam a lot,” you admitted, your focus finally returning to Karen. “I really did. He’s an amazing man, really. And I–I tried to love him.” You sniffled, trying to fight down the emotion you felt rising inside of you. “I really, really tried with him. For a long time in the beginning when I was with him, I didn’t think about Matt. And it was nice. But then Matt he–he met Erica a couple of months ago and hearing him talk about her, seeing them together–”

You broke off, your eyes closing as a few tears fell down your cheeks. Shaking your head, you tried to continue.

“It made me realize I still love Matt,” you admitted. “After all of this time, no matter what I do or what he does, I can’t seem to stop loving him. And I’d been feeling that for a couple of months now but I just–just kept trying to push it down. But when I was offered this position and I needed to talk to Adam and he wanted those things with me…I realized it wasn’t him. He’s not the one I wanted those things with.”

Karen said your name softly, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“And then I–I remembered what you said,” you continued, a few more tears running down your cheeks as you spoke. “Last year. About moving away and I–” the words felt like they were getting stuck in your throat as you tried to force them out, “–I think you were onto something. Because I can’t live like this, Karen.”

A few tears fell down her own cheeks as she listened to you, one of her hands darting up to wipe them away. Shaking your head roughly, you continued on.

“I can’t stay here being in love with someone who will never love me back,” you told her. “I can’t continue to watch him with Erica anymore. Every time they kiss I feel like my heart is being torn to shreds. I just can’t do it anymore. And seeing him with her made me realize that if–if he were to propose to someone, I think it would kill me. So I…think I need to leave before that happens.”

Across the table, Karen inhaled a shaky breath. A few more tears slipped out of her eyes and you watched as she tried to blink them back, her focus shifting to the window beside the two of you.

“It sounds like you’re already decided then,” Karen said softly.

Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “I think so,” you admitted. “My heart is begging me not to go, I can feel it, but my head is telling me to get out. It’s been years of this pining and it’s–it’s keeping me from really being happy, you know? It’s not right to be this in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way. And this incredible opportunity just fell into my lap and I–I think I should take it.”

“Does Foggy know?” she asked, her attention returning to you. “Judging by how happy he was last night, I’m guessing he doesn’t.”

You shook your head slowly. “No,” you told her. “So far I’ve only told you. I knew you’d be upset but…I know Foggy is going to have a hard time with this.”

Karen huffed out a humorless laugh, nodding as she wiped away a few tears on her cheeks. “Yeah, he’s definitely not going to handle this news too well,” she agreed. 

“I might not tell him quite yet,” you admitted with a wince. “So if you could just keep this between us for now, I’d appreciate it.”

Instantly her eyes narrowed back at you. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat under her piercing gaze.

“I plan to tell him when I’ve gotten things more finalized,” you assured her. “You know, once I’ve accepted the offer officially and am actually looking at apartments out there. There’s no need to upset Foggy too soon in case something falls through. I just…don’t want to say something unless I know it’s for sure happening. But I needed to talk to someone about it.”

Karen’s expression softened as she offered you another sad smile, nodding as she did. “I understand,” she said. “So I’m guessing you’re going to tell Matt at the same time as Foggy then?” she asked.

Heart twisting in your chest at her question, you felt that all too familiar hollow ache gnawing at you. You honestly didn’t know how you were going to tell Matt this news, let alone actually say goodbye to him. It wasn’t something you wanted to think about because it hurt too much.

“Probably not at the same time, no,” you whispered, eyes dropping down to your still untouched plate of food. “He's been so happy lately with Erica. Happier than I've seen him in awhile. I don’t want to ruin that for him. And I don’t–don’t know how I’m going to tell him, either. He deserves to know at some point but I–I don’t even know how I’ll have the strength to tell him I’m leaving. To actually say goodbye to him.”

The tears were welling up again in your eyes and you fought hard to blink them back down. The thought of permanently saying goodbye to Matt felt like a small death in itself. Like you’d be leaving your heart in New York and dragging a shell of yourself across the country to L.A. 

But what other choice did you have? Did you really want to stay here and watch him fall in love with Erica? And if it wasn’t her, surely it would be someone else. Could you really just sit there and watch it happen? Watch him tell some other woman that wasn’t you that he loved her? Hear that he’d gotten engaged? Attend his goddamn wedding and be forced to watch him join his life to someone else's forever in front of your very eyes? 

You knew the answer was no. You could never do that. What you’d said to Karen was the truth–watching Matt marry someone else would absolutely kill you. With how long you’d spent wanting him– loving him–there was no way you could watch him make a life with someone else. No way that you could pretend he was only your best friend. 

Leaving New York was the only option left that you hadn’t tried yet.

“I’ll tell him eventually,” you promised, both to Karen and yourself, “but not yet. I–I can’t talk to Matt about this just yet.”

[END NOTES]

I'm sharing end notes again on this series because I feel like y'all need it. Especially because I literally wrote this one up really fast today and hope everything came across!

So Matt is dating Erica and seems quite into her. And Reader has once again ended things with Adam despite how good things were going with him because she's still in love with Matt. All it took was her seeing him so crazy about someone else for her to realize she still has feelings for him. But that little seed of thought Karen planted awhile back never truly went away and now Reader is being offered an amazing new position in L.A. in the coming months that she's planning to accept. Which means bye bye Hell's Kitchen, hello California. And in turn, bye bye Matty.

So what happens next? Because Matt is about to learn VERY soon who Reader has really been in love with...but will she stay or will she go?

The next installment is titled "Breaking the News" and I do have a title for the one following, but I think I'll hold onto that until y'all get the next installment. Because I want to keep you guessing where this is going. I'm cruel like that 🙃

[nathanbatemanfucker]

The Dead Horse

summary: santi brings you back to reality.

pairing: fem!black!reader x santi garcia

contents: angst & fluff— happy ending, canon typical violence, blood, gore, ptsd, depression, feelings of hopelessness, friends to lovers, kissing

wc: 2,419

an: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now bc of nerves, but always wanted to write Santi with a black love interest. planning to dip my toe into that pool more in the future 🥰

oscar issac characters masterlist

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here like this. It could be minutes, hours, even days. In these four walls beneath the shower’s spray, there is nothing that matters. Not even you, not anymore. And while you’re usually the first to be cheery, to tell each of the guys that the work they do— the work you all do together— doesn’t compromise the goodness you see in their hearts, you’re having a hard time believing that right now.

Not with what you’d done. It was to survive, and while you’ve come to terms with how scary you could be in the past you thought it stayed there.

In the past.

Tonight had proven to you that you could always access that piece of you. That terrifying piece that was a killing machine. The emphasis doesn’t lie in efficiency, but in ruthlessness. You had shown no mercy, the switch for empathy and compassion turned off as soon as your hindbrain decided that it was fight or flight. Dormantly thirsty, lurking in the shadows waiting for its time, it chose to fight. But you had gone a step too far—like always— because of your lack of control.

You were messy, enjoying the cutting of thick flesh, the warmth of the blood as it sprayed you. The copper smell, so familiar and embarrassingly comforting, though you didn’t have the mind to think that now, not when you were exposing the pink underbelly of a corpse.

Santi’s been pacing the hallway since you all made it back to the safe house. He’d tried to chat you up on the way home with no success. You wouldn’t meet his eye, and when he drew nearer to catch your gaze it was empty. It chilled his blood. He wasn’t sure of what exactly happened in that room you’d gotten ambushed in but he’d seen the aftermath. Recalling the image of standing over one too many dead bodies, a gleam in your eye had made his stomach curl. He’d smoothed his hand over your knee and left it at that, trying his best to banish all the red and pink and white.

It’s been an hour since you’d stumbled into the bathroom. He can hear the shower still going when he puts his ear to the door and sighs, a mix of frustrated and concerned. He’s not sure what to do– he’s never had to take care of you before. He’s always been grateful for that given all the fondness he has for you bubbling just beneath. Any acknowledgement could jeopardize too much– missions, the dynamic of the team, and most importantly your friendship.

“You alright in there?” He calls softly through the door.

He’s met with silence. He rolls his neck, cursing beneath his breath as his mind goes back and forth, trying to decide what to do.

“Just go in there and check on her,” Frankie says from behind him, causing the other man to flinch. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Santi assures Frankie, leaning against the wall to face the man. He nods at the door. “She could be naked.”

Frankie snorts, shrugging. “She’s seen all of us at least half naked and well, Benny—“

Santi quickly cuts him off, trying to keep the sour jealousy out of his voice. He knows that there’s nothing going on between you and Benny, that Benny is as much of a flirt as he is but sillier and less concerned with his image. “But we haven’t seen her. I don’t— I’m a dog but I’m a respectful one.”

“If she’s gonna get help from anybody on this it’d be you. She trusts you man.”

Santi looks at him like he’s grown two heads but feels a little warm, “She trusts all of us, kind of a prerequisite of living and working with a group of men.”

“It's different with you. You should hear the way she talks about you when you’re not around.”

Santi almost lets himself think about it. Almost lets himself dream a little. Almost.

“Or see the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. Like a lost fucking puppy,” Benny pipes in, breezing down through the hallway between the two of them.

“Don’t sound so concerned, Benjamin,” Santi calls after the man, mouth quirking into a grin.

“Don’t look so smug, Santiago,” Frankie teases.

“I’m not smug,” He denies. He decides to go in, okay with being kicked out by you if it means that Frankie will be gone, done poking and prodding at what the man must know is his heart.

“Good luck.”

Santi murmurs a quiet thanks before slowly entering the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He stands, frozen in place for several moments as he digests the sight of you. It's heartbreaking. His chest goes tight, and he curses softly again. What could he do for you? He’d do anything, but he’s just not sure what. He feels helpless seeing you like this. He could burn this entire city, burn anyone who would look at you wrong. Hell, he’d burn the entire world if it meant some warmth would come back into your eyes.

You’re curled up, your arms resting atop your knees, head resting to stare forward. Your curly hair that usually frames your face is completely soaked like the rest of you, flat and sticking to your face in various places. He knows that your eyes are unseeing, that you’re so incredibly removed from yourself because you make no indication that he’s stepped into the room.

“I’m gonna come sit beside you, okay? That’s it. No words,” Despite his words he stays where he is for a handful of seconds, hoping to get some sort of answer from you. You don’t speak a word, don’t utter or sound or so much as look in his direction. But you do shift slowly, making more room for him underneath the water.

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” He grits out, drawing close enough to you that your shoulders rest flush against each other.

He gazes over at you, noticing the way the water glimmers on your brown skin. The way its collected on your dark eyelashes. If these were different circumstances maybe for just a handful of seconds he’d let himself get lost in your beauty. But then you acknowledge him– sort of. You hum softly and the leaning of your head on his shoulder. It's a good sign and he relaxes beside you.

“Do you want me to shut it off?” He asks gently, reaching out to take your hands into his. Your fingers are cold as ice, and he rubs at them in a futile attempt to generate some heat.

“No, please. No,” You beg hoarsely, suddenly springing to life. You grip at his hands desperately, eyes wide with panic as you finally meet his gaze.

“Alright, hush, cariño, I’ve got you. C’mere, baby,” He shushes you, pulling you into his arms and flush against him.

At little more present in the moment, you feel the chill registering. You curl up, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. There’s still some warmth in his skin and you press into it, letting the sound of his steady breath lull you back into a dissociative state.

Santi holds you for an undetermined amount of time. He runs his hands up your back, over the crown of your hair, feeling the difference of how your curls feel when wet. His hand drifts to your chin, and he leans away, tipping your head up.

“Honey, you’ve gotta talk to me,” He whispers.

Your dark eyes have a little more life to them, but that’s only amplified the sadness they hold. “Santi, I can’t. I can’t. Don’t make me, please.”

“I have to, you can’t stay like this. We’ve got to get it out in the open.”

“Like you do?” You challenge– your voice distinctly unkind, harder than he’s ever heard it before. His brow furrows and guilt blossoms inside of you. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. This just fucking sucks, Santiago. Its all wrong again.”

“Tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.”

“There’s no way we can fix it. I’m just broken. I’ll always be haunted by her. She’ll always be here, waiting for an opportunity for that.”

“You preach that shit to me and the guys. Day in and day out. Every mission, and you don’t believe it?”

“I do— I did. I believe it for you. For them. You’re good people, Santi. Good men, all of you. You take care of me.”

“You take care of us, honey. Fish hangs on your every word. Will too. Benny is well— Benjamin.”

“And you?”

He shrugs, “You know I gave into this a long time ago. Before we even met. No other way for me to be.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I try to. I want to. There are parts of me too that I don’t like. I want them gone. I rip them up and bury them but they always come back to haunt me. I don’t think that means I’m not trying to be better, but it means I’ll never be the man I want to be.”

You frown at him, concerned, “Santi—“

“It’s okay. I accepted that after the first tour. Sometimes you gotta let the horse be dead.”

“Do you think my horse is dead?”

There’s no room for his ego, no room for hiding when he hears the blatant fear in your question.

He rests his head back against the wall, murmuring, “I think you’re the sweetest thing this earth has to offer.”

“You think so?”

“Bouncing around with your curls, and your sweet little smile. Kicking Benny’s ass with grace while you’ve got a cake in the oven. You should see yourself with Frankie’s little girl.”

“Seems like you watch me a lot,” You suggest softly.

“I watch you all the time,” He admits, but there’s no shame in his voice. In fact you can see resolve in his eyes, and possessiveness. A chill runs down your spine and it’s not from the water. Santi mistakes it for that anyway. “Let me turn this off for us?”

He’s still asking. Still checking in with you though there’s much more light in your eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

Santi leans up and turns off the shower, letting out a sigh of relief. He runs his hands over your wet curls, pushing them away from your forehead. His thumbs swipe your cold cheeks, brushing away some of the water droplets.

Without that steady sound of the shower, sheets cascading down on you, you both are feeling a little more exposed.

“I came in here to make sure you were alright, not spill my fucking guts. I just had to take care of you,” He says, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

“You can always take it back,” You say teasingly, though most of you expect him to bite at your offer.

He’s said much more in these last few minutes than he ever has to you— Santi’s a sweet guy under all his charm, but he never lets you see below the surface. Not until now, when letting you in seemed like the only way to get you out.

It takes more effort than he expects to pull himself away from you. He leans back against the shower wall, nimble fingers lacing together in his lap. “And lose you?”

“You could never lose me, Santi,” You murmur, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

Your eyes roam him, a little in disbelief at what’s happening right now. But yes, it is Santiago Garcia sitting next to you. With his dark brown eyes, his sharp jaw dappled with stubble, his salt and pepper hair looking much darker and curlier than usual due to the water.

“Yeah?” Santi asks, eyes glued to where yours sits atop his. He traces slowly over the sight of you two linked together, admiring how soft and rich your skin looks even after sitting in a shower for so long.

He’s a goner isn’t he?

“Yeah.”

There are butterflies in his stomach. Butterflies, sweat slicking his palms despite the fact that he’s soaked through his clothes and down to the bone. He realizes in this moment that he’s not just a goner. No— he loves you. He knew that he was harboring some kind of feelings for you, but when your eyes meet his— earnest and tender— he can only think one thing: I love you.

His eyes hungrily drop to your full mouth, and another shiver runs down your spine. “Let me kiss you.”

You nod, squeezing his hand that’s still in yours.

“I need to hear you say it. You have to say it for me, so I can believe it.”

“I want you to kiss me, Santiago. Please.”

He’s on you then. All over you. His hands move quickly, guiding you back into his lap before one loops around your torso and holds you close. The other cups your jaw, angling it back so that he can press his mouth to yours. You’re breathless before the space between you is closed, chest heaving at how sure and firm his hands are. He kisses you. Kisses and kisses you, like his life depends on it. Like you’re lost and the only thing that will guide you home is his insistent tongue.

Your hands slip and slide against the fabric of his wet shirt before you give up, raising them to tentatively cup his face so that you can have leverage.

“That’s it honey, kiss me back. Take what you want to. Whatever you need,” He encourages between kisses.

Take you do. You squirm in his lap until he lets you shift and straddle him. It had started with him leading you, consuming you but now it’s your turn to surround him. Santi gives in, sighing into your mouth as your tongue goes on the hunt for his. You kiss him. Kiss him and kiss him until your mouth aches. When you pull away his is flushed pink, newly wet. You run your thumb over his lips before wiping your own mouth.

He looks up at you like hang the moon. His eyes are soft and hazy, pink mouth pulling up into a smirk. There’s the Santi you know. The Santi you love. But even now, he’s softer and sweeter, gathering you close again.

“What do you need now, sweetheart? What can I do to make it better?”

“You.”

“I’m yours.”

santi taglist: @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @missdictatorme, @whatthefishh

[camthecatchameleon]

cranking the image description out for this one boys

lineups of the Crews from the two Legends of Avantris campaigns I’ve actually listened to with consistency (still not finished with EoM but I’m on 21 so I’m getting there dont worry) + artists notes

Highly suggested that you scroll below the cut for this. (my handwriting is not the best + its small + some hidden design notes too :eyes: )

Image 1: Carnivalé LeCroux (not drawn to scale lmao)

(from left to right)

Hootsie: least fun to draw (Boring shapes) (draw the least). Typically I imagine her as a horned owl owlbear so her canon “eyebrows” flatten out and connect to her neck. I just think it gives her a nice silhouette. Frost: least fun to draw (cat). I’ve been drawing him with Chinese/vaguely East Asian-inspired robes because he’s from the mountail of Yulong and you can’t just give me a place called “Yulong” and expect me NOT to go ham on the east asian inspiriation. (east asian artist here.) Gricko: don’t draw nearly enough, most fun to draw (hair). I gave him a permanent cowlick on his bangs and I think the shapes are nice. Chunks ripped out of his ears are from Hootsie when she was younger and couldn’t control her strength. Kremy: most fun to draw (lizord), draw the most, did the most reference study for. I may love to draw lizards but crocodylidae are so uniquely shaped. Scrolling back through my ouaw posts and you can see I am still getting used to it. Torbek: most inconsistent, stupid machinery doesn’t make sense. The shape of his canisters and the collar with a keyhole both are from the first time I drew him, which was without a reference, and they just. Stuck. Gideon: Big boob indulgence, stupid machinery doesn’t make sense. Drawing him with awkwardly long hair, post-trauma fat, and smile lines is my favorite passtime. His marriage rings are on a necklace because they get in the way of punching clowns. Twig (pre-death): draw the least (can’t figure out her shapes). Drawing her fractured glasses and refracted eye is my favorite time.

Image 2: Witchhunters!! (I think my headcanon height difference is funny)

Shortest to tallest (briggsy and farryn are the same height):

Briggsy: Still figuring out how to depict distinction from Kremy (gator). So far i’ve got more spikes and a thicker neck and thats about it. I’m working on it. Farryn: fun shapes! skinny L. Ever since learning how to draw body fat I’ve never gone back its actually so hard to draw skin-and-bones skinny people now. Marius: least consistent (can’t decide how curly her hair is), armor L. Yes I headcanon he/she marius do you have a problem with that? Bat-like ears because heehoo. I just realized the symbol I drew on his chestplate looks like the Horde symbol from she-ra FUCK can you tell I don’t look at references? Jericho: most fun to draw!!! (draw the most). I like to draw virgil!jericho with four-pointed-star slits instead of just orbs with pupils because I think shapes are fun. Lethica: drew her wrong for WAY too long. I hadn’t paid enough attention to her actual ref and covered up her chest initially I’m so sorry queen. shes so pretty though. Although I do think its infinitely funny to headcanon that she actually looks pretty average. Tall women my beloved. Yorgrim: least drawn, Beard + Big indulgence. No seriously I’ve only drawn him twice. Hes awesome though soft rectangular shapes ftw.

[irondad-defensesquad]

Tony kneels in front of Peter, whose gaze is miserable.

“Hey,” the former beckons. “Is there anything that could help you feel better? Even a little? Can be anything at all.”

Peter shows that he’s thinking of an answer. For now he doesn’t look at Tony, but he slowly analyzes the environment around them. Peter is holding his own hands. Tony may find the slightly oversized sweater adorable in him, even if the kid isn’t looking so sharp right now.

“... my room,” the latter mumbles.

“Hm?”

Peter looks ashamed. “I hate how my room looks right now. It’s… bothering me so much.”

“We can fix that.”

The teen doesn’t look entirely motivated.

“I can tidy it up–”

“Mr. Stark, don’t.”

“I don’t mind, kid.”

“Yeah, but it’s my room, I should’ve cleaned it forever ago. That’s not on you.”

Tony’s smile might falter a bit. “Well, I can do what I want, and you can’t stop me,” he jokes.

That at least makes Peter smirk. “Yeah, sure.”

Tony helps get all the clothes thrown around, handing them to Peter so he knows where to put them. Tony then organizes his school material, and he can’t help but see the tiny doodles Peter drew of Iron Man and Spider-Man. Tony grins.

Finally, Peter picks the broom to remove most of the dust on the floor. He does it slowly. Tony handles his desk overall.

Peter suddenly stops moving.

Tony looks at him.

The boy drops the broom as he finally starts crying.

“Hey, hey…” Tony rushes to him. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so tired, Mr. Stark… I c-can’t–”

“Shh, it’s okay. You did great,” Tony guides him to bed. “You did great, Pete.”

“I’m sorry I’m…” Not good enough. I’m a mess. I’m a burden.

“It’s okay. It’s okay…” Tony repeats it as many times as he needs, whilst rubbing Peter’s back.

After many quiet sobs and sniffs, Peter shyly looks up.

“... Thanks,” he whispers.

Tony smiles sadly. “No prob, Bob. Now you rest, okay? I’m getting you a reward later.”

Peter chuckles. “What kind of reward?”

“A tasty one.”

“Does it involve ice cream?”

“Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

Peter watches Tony get the broom and do the rest of the cleaning. His puppy eyes are still growing deep. He looks so small, especially in the sweater and the blanket. He looks huggable.

“... What?” Peter notices Tony staring at him every now and then.

“You. You’re impossibly cute.”

Peter frowns. “No, I’m not…”

“If you look at yourself in the mirror, you would want to cocoon yourself, too.”

Peter scoffs. “Maybe you got too much dust in your eyes.”

Tony smirks and finishes the job. He orders some Ben & Jerry’s – four only for Peter. He wanted the Avengers flavors.

Peter eats silently. Tony sticks with him. The TV is their only conversation.

The kid might not show the same appetite as a mutant teenage boy’s, but he does look a little better. His cheek is dirty with a few chocolate chips.

Tony snorts, taking a napkin. “You baby.”

Peter protests. “Hey…”

Except neither of them stop the action, and Tony is pretty careful with it.

They gaze at each other with full attention.

Until Tony squeezes Peter’s cheek.

“Mr. Stark!!!” The latter yells. “I’m gonna get ice cream on you!”

Tony hasn’t laughed this much in quite a while. Turns out he needed to cheer up, too.

[sailtomarina]

I won't cry

The honeymoon in Japan is actually a reference to my own honeymoon experience where we actually did both get food poisoning and ended up missing the entire food experience I wanted in Tokyo. ***

“Are you feeling any better today?” 

Draco popped his head through the doorway to check on Hermione where she lay curled up in their massive four-poster. They had just returned home after their honeymoon in Southeast Asia spanning multiple countries, including South Korea, Vietnam, Thailand, Hong Kong, and Japan. Several months were lost to their travels, where they wandered without the pressure of set schedules. 

No matter how many times Hermione tried to map out an itinerary, the plans would suddenly disappear the next morning, leaving them to explore in the organic way Draco preferred and which she grew to appreciate even if she never admitted it (“We have magic, Hermione—we don’t need reservations”).

Yet against all expectations, Hermione caught a stomach bug somewhere in Japan, ruining her hopes for a self-led tour through Tokyo Station’s Ramen Street and a Michelin Star dinner at a restaurant specializing in tempura (“Why in the world do muggles take the culinary advice of a tire mascot?”). She blamed it on the raw chicken her local friends claimed was a delicacy, while Draco had suspicions about the last-minute train bento. She couldn’t go an hour without a trip to the loo, putting a damper on attempts to take in a final farewell to the cherry blossoms at the end of their bloom.

And now they were home in the comforts of familiar bed sheets, Winky waiting hand and foot on her missus.

“A bit, though I’ve finally figured out the source of my sickness thanks to Winky.” Even in her state, pale faced, messy bun, Draco’s old Quidditch jersey, she was beautiful.

Her smile drew him into the room to her side, where he sat and held her hand. “Should I be more concerned?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you think we’re ready.”

“Ready? What, to go to St. Mungo’s?” He asked, brow furrowed in confusion. Leaning forward to run his hand from her forehead down her neck, he didn’t feel any hint of a fever.

“Well, yes, that would probably be wise, though Winky has already helped significantly.”

Right on cue, the house elf popped into place right next to them holding a tray of food.

“Winky is here to feed Mistress and young Malfoy!” She bustled over, swatting Draco’s hands aside to place the tray.

Watching the small elf with a bemused expression, Draco replied, “That doesn’t look like enough food for us both, or am I to go to the dining room?”

As Hermione tittered, Winky scoffed and shooed him in a manner she would have previously found offensive. “Winky isn’t talking about Master Draco. Winky is referring to the baby.”

“…baby?”

Light grey eyes shot to meet golden brown, and the upward curl of her lips confirmed all his hopes and fears.

“Are we…pregnant?”

“Winky is never wrong in these matters. Winky cast the detection charm, and if Master and Mistress would like, will also determine the sex?”

“No!”

At Winky’s insulted face, Draco cleared his throat and held his hands palm-side up.

“What I meant to say was ‘thank you’, Winky. And I do mean it. I—well, I think we—”

“What my dear husband means to say is that we’d like that at least to be a surprise.” Hermione was now fully grinning at the two of them. “And yes, thank you. I’d like to speak with Draco alone now, if you don’t mind?”

Bowing her head and shooting a glare at Draco, Winky disapparated with a crack that echoed through the now too-quiet room. He stared at where the elf once stood, threading his fingers repeatedly, desperately trying to still the fluttering in his stomach.

A baby. He was going to be a father.

How the hell was he going to be a good father when he only had his own as an example? What would the child think growing up with the Malfoy name, one that could be found in newspaper articles and new history books?

“Draco.”

His chest tightened and he struggled to breathe. What kind of future could he offer to his child?

As the thoughts and questions continued to crowd his mind, he flinched when he felt a cool hand grasp his, fingers rubbing soothing circles into his palm. The roar in his ears quieted and he focused instead on the motions, the pulling of her fingers on his own.

“Draco, we’re going to be parents…together.”

Together.

His face snapped back up to gaze at his wife, and the heavy weight that had hammered down on him lifted up and away, allowing him to breathe once more. He clutched at her like a lifeline, and for a horrifying moment felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

I won’t cry. I will NOT cry. Together, we will redefine the Malfoy name, and make it one this baby can be proud of.

As he settled on this life goal, he surged forward to wrap her in his arms. If there were happy tears, well, he would claim they were Hermione’s.

[pastelwhile-art]

it'd absolutely make my day too some makokuu from you (i loved that illustration of them im insane about them)

what about some domestic makokuu 👀 them spending time together at home :3 no pressure ofc

Help I know I asked for saiki k requests TWO months ago and I had a really fun idea for an illustration, but my brain is a smooth cube. so that idea stays up in the air.

For now take a really quick silly crack doodle about one of the many possibilities I think Kusuke/Makoto telling Saiki/Teruhashi would go. Spoiler alert: it’s hilariously horrible.

(Saiki thinks they’re messing with them and Teruhashi is seething. Are they pranking them? Who knows.)

And ya know what? Beneath the cut take my redesigns of these guys and my notes for them because I made several months ago ‘cause I haven’t touched them since :(

Warning: I talk a lot.

A quick note! These designs aren’t meant to say ‘fix’ the original-they’re just for fun! Even if I think elements of mine look better, clearly the original works and are well loved. Also I’m not especially fond of these anyways JAJSJANW

Saiki doesn’t change much other than his palette is a more balanced. Also I really like designing hair, and wanted the idea that Saiki really tries to sleek it down to something very generic and unassuming, but the hairpins get stuck in the way and his hair sorta moves outwards from there. Continuing the idea that his powers make him subtly less normal. It also accidentally made him look A LOT more like his parents, oops.

Also I drew a comparison from his canon hair to his redesign, because I didn’t think it was particularly clear until side by side.

Also I actually gave this one a proper illustration lol.

Teruhashi’s design was actually partly inspired by @lu-kario’s human mlp designs because they’re really good :^ She’s also pretty standard except her hair and color (which I’m not too satisfied with.)

I like the idea of the Teruhashi Siblings being a bit supernatural, so along with weird shine effects, they also get constant wind effects! Like in all the anime where they have flowing hair at just the right times even though it wasn’t windy at all before? Yeah! Except that’s more Makoto’s thing while the shine stays Kokomi’s.

Also what ethnicity are these characters now? To me they’re still Japanese, but I think people don’t ever use a range of skin tones for the same ethnicity. But really these are just fun designs I didn’t really think too hard.

Kusuke! He was the first one I did and an absolute PAIN. He was also the reason I did this, because as much as I love Saiki K and respect the author, I just got to know what is going on with his debut clothes.

Well not like I did that much better… Kusuke is stuck with four alt palettes because I can’t decide which shade of weird yellow and purple to make his head and gown (I’ve resolved to draw his hair a different shade of yellow in every drawing.) His eyes also match Saiki with purple eyes, because I think they look better lmao.

Also, that’s his Cambridge gown he’s wearing. And fun fact-they have a great amount of rules on what color does gowns get an accent of based off what subject people are taking! I decided to not think too hard on that and just gave him a better looking gown.

And I really like the hair I gave him, the original to me just lacks a bit of anime shape style. Also his headgear is shaped like a graduation hat now lol.

He also has a silly little doodle for what he’d look like with his lab coat. It’s not here, but I like to think he always puts a ponytail up!

Last and also least xp, Makoto! He’s uhh about the same with the points I said with Teruhashi. Just very angular now. I swear I tried to design a better fashion for Makoto but I just ended up with the same.

I tried to style his hair how Japanese celebrities would, but I don’t know if I succeeded. His hair as I said is constantly blowing to the left lol. Also he has a hair clip now! In my head Kusuke gives him a telepathy canceller disguised as a hairclip.

Also anyone can draw or get inspired by these designs if you wanted lol Though I don’t really like these, I still use these hairstyle for drawing them cause I think they look cool lol.

[sheena-yuet]

I think it would be the last post for now cause I have a lot of mid-term assignment waiting for me to do ;-;;

but I feel bad of not posting anything for u guys so there it is ! I thought I would only draw about three to four drawings but it ended up I drew eight of them lol

And sorry for the drawings are really sketchy! This time . Cause I am trying to balance the time and this post 😭

Oh and I tried to draw dream after his face reveal soo it may not looks like him cause I’m still finding or studying how should draw him!

-Tiny Hero-

I like some plot about the giant was trapped and the tiny save them. But the first time the giant didn’t trust them they thought the tiny’s gonna hurt them, so they try to shake them off or glare at them ,hissing….

Basically the set up is like dream is a giant, and the giant species are having a war with the witches.

And unfortunately he was trapped by their magic so he couldn’t move around. He keeps struggling, and yet he chose to keep his strength for another round of struggle.

With the noise he made, a person started to approach where the noise came from. And the view in his eyes, he was certain that he would never forget that scene. A giant was trapped on the ground, and staring at him with his hazel eyes.

He was too shocked to do anything, and right before he trying to have a closer look at the giant. The giant noticed that the George carry arrows on his shoulder. Which made him go to a defensive mood. He never broke his eye contact with George, and keeps hissing or even tries to bite him.And poor George , just trying his best to show Dream he has no intention to hurt him.

And George didn’t do anything on that day, he decided to leave the giant alone. On the next day, he came back. The giant was surprised, he didn’t think about that he would visit him again.

And this time George brought something to him. Watching him slowly preparing the food that he has brought. Dream asked him some questions, “why are you doing this?” “What do you want from me?” “Are you with those witches?” But George didn’t respond at all. Just silently minding his own business. Trying to rewind the memory of the first day . George also didn’t speak or talk anything. He assume that maybe they don’t speak the same language?

Dream didn’t want to eat the food George has prepared, but when he saw George was eating the food that he brought. Well he won’t eat the food if he poisoned it right? He ate it and keep observing this mysterious guy, that trying to help him but not releasing him.

Something snaps in his mind, he was trapped in a witches magic. Therefore, normal human beings may not able to free him cause humans can’t use any magic. He felt so hopeless, afraid that would he be trapped in the forest forever? Or maybe the witches would find him and kill him. But at least he got a small companion?

This human never leave him after he didn’t do anything tries to hurt him. They slowly gaining trust between each other.

Each day George will visit dream and brings some food for him . But dream always wonder how this tiny being can search a lot of food in a short period of time? Maybe this human really a good hunter.

Dream starts talking to him and George just keeps looking at him didn’t answer back his questions.

and here’s some imagination about when they finally gain enough trust to sleep together

And one day the same time, the human came from the same way he usually does. Dream as always started talks with him, and yet George suddenly talked.

“I am sorry that I hide this from you at the first day. I’m an elf and now I’m going to break the magic.”

He finally took of his hoodie, he doesn’t have ears similar to human beings instead of a pair of pointed ears. Then a magic staff suddenly appeared in his hand, and the blue glowing rune gradually appeared on his face.

And these scenes are out of my vocabulary lmao idk how to describe it. LMAO

Use yOuR ImAginatIoNnnn.

Like he is chanting the spell to free dweam

Idk how many mistakes are there in this post lol I don’t care about that lmao (writing at 1 am here.

I wasn’t planned to write that long , all I want to do is just describe what is happening in the pictures. But it somehow turn out tons of words and it is reaching my English limits ;-;; sorry guys.

Andddd I’m still thinking that what would they do after that. Does dream feel betrayed by George? Originally I planned on it but I’m not satisfied with that idea

so plz give me some advice or suggestions :D

And again Feel free to ask me draw something or give me ideassss

But I won’t be able to draw it immediately cuz u know assignment oof

[stromuprisahat]

I’ve read some complaints about the events leading to Aemond’s loss of an eye. That in books it doesn’t make sense. I have to disagree.

Even for a son of House Targaryen, there are always dangers in approaching a strange dragon, particularly an old, bad-tempered dragon who has recently lost her rider. His father and mother would never allow him to go near Vhagar, Aemond knew, much less try to ride her. So he made certain they did not know,

Little children like to state the obvious, especially if “the obvious” means something you shouldn’t be doing (sneaking around to a dragon that’s not yours), therefore “I said it first, now you can’t tell ~I~ might be doing something I shouldn’t” (wandering by myself).

“You stay away from her!”

The voice belonged to the youngest of his half nephews, Joffrey Velaryon, a boy of three.

I’m curious why were the crossed out parts left out in Fire & Blood (Compared with The Rogue Prince novel.)

Afraid that the boy would raise the alarm, Prince Aemond slapped him, shouted at him to be quiet, then shoved him backward into a pile of dragon droppings.

Aemond bullies Joff, he comes for help to his “big” brothers, who are still much smaller than Aemond, so they take practice swords to make up for their age just like an ordinary child would take a stick. Just google what does three, five, six and ten year old look like.

Aemond fought back, breaking Luke’s nose with a punch, then wrenching the sword from Joff’s hands and cracking it across the back of Jace’s head, driving him to his knees. As the younger boys scrambled back away from him, bloody and bruised, the prince began to mock them, calling them the Strongs. Jace at least was old enough to grasp the insult. He flew at Aemond again, but the older boy began pummeling him savagely … until Luke, coming to the rescue of his brother, drew his dagger and slashed Aemond’s face, taking out his right eye. 

Experience seems to win- maybe originally unarmed, but with some four extra years of training on the oldest Velaryon, Aemond gains a weapon and seemingly victory. So he gloats and humiliates, just like mommy taught him.

Jace tries to protect their honour, only to be overpowered by the boy almost twice his age. The situation escalates for the last time when it turns out no one told a five-year-old not to bring a metaphorical gun into a knifefight, but even such a small child would understand being “pummeled savagely” after acquiring a head injury might be slightly life-threatening. He’s acting out of desperation, basics of self-defence ingrained deep enough to know what to do, yet too young to foresee practical consequences.

[jikookuntold]

Hi! I appreciate your takes a lot, please can you share your opinion about this situation. Hope you saw Jungkook last Wlive which he did between Friday-Saturday night, at 2-3 am. Jungkook said there “I don’t have nothing to do to tomorrow. I will just work out tomorrow” then we know that JK spend Friday night before this Wlive at musicals with Tae and Wooga, and later on Saturday night he spent bowling with Tae. Two nights in a row he chose to spend with Tae. Ok. Whatever. Maybe Jimin was busy, right? But no, today Jimin said this: “ it would have been great if all the members could go together, but because we all busy with our individual work. But I'm still in the middle of preparations so I had time (other translation says *spare days*) in those few days after various film shoots and it happened to be on a weekend and Hoseokie-hyung also had a day off, so we went together.” So I have many questions here and confusion. Their stories contradict themselves, JK said he was totally free on Saturday, while JM said other members were so busy they couldn’t join even if he wished. I think JiHope visited Jin in the early afternoon, while JK fall asleep early in the morning (he woke up at 8 again, said he was tired and would want to sleep some more, it’s unknown if JK slept more). Soooo there’s several questions, and to be honest they don’t advantage jikook much. Just from following the situation: Jimin isn’t updated to JK’s life and didn’t know he was free that day? Or Jimin just didn’t contact JK and didn’t invite him for some reason? Or he lied that all other members had working schedule that day so others would look good in public eyes that they didn’t join? On the other hand. Did Jungkook just declined to go to JIn because he had something more important that day (bowling with Tae and and before spending morning on Wlive just chilling and doing nothing)? Or JK was just not invited by Jimin? And then again I don’t think JK lied that he was free on Saturday, he or Tae decided to spend lovely night bowling together. He was definitely free I think. So the following question is the most important one that bothers me: Why would a couple chose to spend their precious day off completely separately with different people? And that happened when finally their schedule would align (after one partner was busy with job), they what didn’t miss each other…plus while one of them doesn’t know the other one was free, and the other one was spending two days in a row with the same person, prioritizing that friend over his allegedly lover…how does it make sense? Maybe I missed something and didn’t understand it and drew some incorrect conclusions, and you would be kind enough to say where my logic lacks because honestly …it is confusing

ps sorry if i double posted, I didn’t understand if it was sent or the site dropped

Your confusion and the essay you made out of it comes from a little mistake in calculations. You forgot that waking hours for a normal grown up human being is at least 16 hours per day, and they can do multiple activities at the same day, like having schedules (not necessarily Hybe-related things), working out or going to musicals, or bowling or eating outside, and still having spare time left. And the bowling didn't happen last Saturday, the photos are from November.

Also you forgot that boot camps don't accept visitors at night, so what if Jimin wasn't lying or covering for anything and JK actually had important business during the day? Or JK just had things to do but didn't want to spoil and just said he will work out?

You see? There is no need for overanalysing or writing essays or calling anyone liar or calling a resurfaced friendly hang out from four months ago "lovely". Just chill ❤️

[insanefan]

Werecat AU

See I had this thought that it'd be very funny for Val'dran to be a werecat since he loves cats BUT I also thought the hybrid form should be a lil bit weird because that's more fun than just getting turned into, like, a small tabaxi.

AND! I wrote a lil piece about Val'dran's first transformation 👀

Val’dran is a fool.

This isn’t exactly something new. He frequently does something that would have been better left avoided or not done. The surfacers have a saying about that kind of thing; the best laid plans of mice and men. He can’t not plan things out. Improvising sabotage is risky business. But evidently so is planning because events like to not follow the plan.

Granted, this time, there was no plan involved, just a cat. Just a bite.

It was a hectic situation, getting bitten by a random jungle cat wasn’t something to be expected, and it wasn’t something that caused much more than a sting and a curse regardless. It barely drew blood.

The problem is that Val’dran should have followed up on the cat. Because if he’d done that, maybe he would’ve figured out it was a lycanthrope before the full moon.

As is, he did not, it is the full moon, and Val’dran’s skin and bones itch and crack. It’s not… directly painful. But it’s certainly not pleasant. All the more so because he knows, he knows, if infected by a lycanthrope it is much, much easier to cure before a full moon, before a transformation. Gods.

Will the moon reach into the Underdark? Will fleeing down there allow him to hide from the fact he’s being turned into some kind of beast once a month? As if he didn’t already have enough trouble with his own existence to start with?

A loud crack makes him bite down a whimper, writhing on the bedroll. There’s so much happening, he can’t quite tell what beyond fur, beyond his spine stretching out into a tail. Is he shrinking, somehow? His face is certainly reconfiguring itself in some way, itching and aching. How long is it going to take? He just needs it to finish, to be over with.

As if thinking that much was the key, all ache and itching ceases. It lingers, but when he sprawls out in something like exhaustion, he doesn’t feel the need to curl up at least. His ears twitch and shift, by far more moveable, and he can feel his tail twitching too. His… whiskers?

Gods… what kind of horrid hybrid form has he been shoved into? Lycanthropes have three forms, don’t they? Can he change into another too? The thought is deeply unappealing with how exhausted he already feels. How is he going to fix this? He supposes by starting to find a mirroring surface so he can see himself. There’s a pond nearby, that’ll do if he can just… get up.

It takes him a few deep breaths and one failed attempt, but he manages to climb to his feet. The halfway point, arms shoving him up, also feels unsettlingly natural. But more noticeable once he rises…

…He’s shorter.

Well, no, he’s smaller in total. But the height is the most obvious thing, because he knows what height he expects to be, and this is not it. He can stand straight up and down in the little cavern he’s been using as a temporary shelter, and before this, he certainly couldn’t. How tall is he? Under five feet. Under four?

Grimacing, he steps outside. He’d almost like it if he was shambling, but… while the ache lingers, his steps are sure-footed, even graceful.

Because he’s… a fucking werecat now, apparently. He didn’t even know those existed.

He makes it to the pond, still and quiet, and hesitates. His tail twitches repeatedly. But there’s nothing for it; he needs to know. Reluctantly, he finally leans over the motionless water and… stares.

His nose is pink. It’s probably an odd thing to notice, what with everything else, but right there in his face is a cat’s nose, deep pink, a spot of colour set in the middle of dark sandy fur with black markings. And whiskers. He twitches his nose, and the whiskers twitch along, long and white. He looks… like the most absurd combination of cat and drow. A cat’s nose, fur stretching up on his forehead and out over his cheeks where they meet his ears that are simply some sort of cat’s ears in place of his own. His pupils are hugely dilated, but he supposes they’ll shrink to thin slits if the light gets brighter.

He looks at his hand. His nails are black claws. There’s fur at the back of his hand, stretching up into his sleeve – up his arm. Probably his legs too, in some way. His back, maybe, where the tail connects to his spine. He curls it around his leg, ears drooping and whiskers twitching again.

As if he wasn’t enough of a freak drow already, now he’s… this.

[allthewriteplaces]

My Paradise

Author's Note: This isn't my best work, and it's been three years since I wrote it, but it would be a shame if I were to continue to let this little story sit in my USB drive collecting dust, only to never see the light of day when I was so proud of it when I finished it. Plus it's nice to look back and see how much I've improved over the years.

Story Summary: The day has come for Arkov Sosha to marry the man of her dreams, the Captain of the Hercules, himself, Yargwynn Salta and while it's been a long time coming, and their adventure hasn't all been smooth sailing, everything is finally falling into place.

Warning(s): None, only fluff

Word Count: 2478

From the moment we are born, it seems as though our fates are sealed and our destinies are written somewhere in the stars. Each step we take and each choice we make, alters our path, opens new doors, and leads to infinite possibilities, infinite realities exist within our universe, each one a branch in the ever growing tree of life.

Had I not made the choices I made, I wouldn’t have went on such incredible adventures and meet so many wonderful people who would ultimately become my family or be standing in my chambers on the Hercules, a place that was once foreign but had now become my home dressed in a gown woven from the dark cloths of the night sky and sparkled like a thousand stars.

Everyone dreams about their fairytale wedding, and I am no exception, it was the sort of thing that most girls, including most of my childhood friends, always seemed to like to talk about at sleepovers and even at school. To tell you the truth, however, I never thought much about it, in fact, it was the last thing on my mind. There were so many other things I wanted to do with my life first, like exploring far off places and making a life for myself, just like my mother did.

She is gone now. I wish that she could see how happy I am; I wish that she would be there to see me trying on my wedding dress - one that I am in the process of adding the finishing touches to - and I wish she could see me walking down the aisle on my wedding day.

Loss is not anything new to me, I’ve lost many friends and family over the years, and the pain and the sadness that come along with it, are like waves, trying to knock me down over and over again, and toss me onto the sand, never to drown, but no matter how many times I fall, I somehow manage to get back up and live another day.

Well, I suppose in a way, she is here in spirit, watching from somewhere far, far away from this place.

She always said that I had a gift for creating things, making something amazing out of what appeared to be nothing and that is exactly what I’m doing right now. I suppose it’s my way of having her with me, and for a split second, a smile makes its way onto my face.

Rubbing my tired eyes, I realize that it’s getting late. I hold up the dress and examine the stitching. It still needs a bit of touching up, but I have at least twenty-four hours before I get married. Goodness, even now, saying those two words, I still can’t believe it’s happening, it still doesn’t seem real yet.

Let me tell you, when I first met Captain Yargwynn Salta, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, though I couldn’t deny that there was something about him that drew me to him. Sure, he flirted with me here and there, and maybe I responded with a few witty remarks of my own, but it was only in playful banter, until it wasn’t, until our feelings for one another started to grow.

When I first realized that I was indeed falling in love, I was terrified; no, I wasn’t afraid of falling in love specifically, but I was afraid of the feelings that came with it and the pain that would ultimately come when they would not be returned. The whole sensation where I could barely get a word out when I was around him, or when his hand would accidentally brush against mine was similar to standing on the edge of a cliff and not knowing what waited for you at the bottom besides the possibility of imminent death.

But instead, when the both of us were at our very worst, and I had been teleported to the glistening clear waters and sandy shores of Cantahc when things seemed to be bleaker than they ever had been, he told me that he had grown to have said feelings for me as well, but after all that had happened, it was almost impossible for me to get my head around what was going on. I had been waiting to hear those words for so long.

And that was where we shared our first kiss, right there on that beach, I was being held tightly in Yargwynn’s strong arms, my own personal safety net that I could always depend on catching me when I fell, and comforted by his soft, almost rumbling voice, his heartbeat hammering against his chest, and his gentle hands resting on either side of my face.

Apparently, according to him, I am a terrible kisser; okay, I’ll admit, I’m not as good as he is, but I think I have a strong grasp of what to do and what not to do, and I will have tomorrow evening to prove him wrong.

There is something romantic about a beach wedding that makes it the perfect spot for our special day; we will be getting married by the ocean, in the company of our closest friends and family.

Making my way to the comfortable bed we both share, I climb in and glance over at my soon-to-be husband, whose purple locks are sprawled out on the pillow, and the top three buttons of his loose-fitting pirate shirt are undone. There is also a small grin on his face, which tells me that he’s not quite asleep yet.

“Finally, I was starting to think that I’d be spending the whole night alone,”

“You know that I would never deprive you of my company,” I reply, undoing my braid and letting my hair fall down my back in cascading waves. “It’s all done for now, I just have to add a bit more stitching along the bottom of it, but you’re not allowed to see what it looks like until I’m done.”

“Why not?” He pouts, but his tone remains lighthearted and playful, so I know he’s just teasing me.

“Well, don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, especially in her dress? You wouldn’t want to disappoint Lady Luck now, would we?” I repeat the same words he said to me when he caught me sneaking aboard The Hercules.

“I suppose not.” He sighed and then rolled over onto his side so that he was facing me, brushing a piece of my hair behind my ear and then placing a kiss on the side of my neck. “I can’t believe I’m marrying you tomorrow.”

“Well, there’s no backing down now, is there?” I whispered, smiling at the gesture.

“Nope.” Even in the darkness, I can see his grin growing and he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer toward him. “Not even if you beg me to let you go, I won’t. I nearly lost you and there’s no way I’m going to let that happen ever again.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere, even if you beg me to leave, I’m staying right here.” To prove that, I take his hand in mine, placing a kiss on each of his knuckles. He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose.

I can’t believe that tomorrow, I , Arkov Sosha, will become Mrs Arkov Salta. It has a nice ring to it.

Hours and hours pass by, the sun is setting and the air is warm, just like I imagined it would be; I cannot picture a more perfect day to get married. My husband-to-be is waiting for me outside and I can hear him laughing, no doubt trying to regale the guests with his epic tales, that’s the pirate in him, I’m sure.

I slip on the dress, careful not to damage anything by pulling or moving too quickly. It’s impossible for me to not be anxious right now; so many things could go wrong, and anything can happen, but I cannot let that distract me, I can’t let those superstitious and insecure feelings get in the way of what is going to be the best day of my entire life.

I let my hair down, then stand in the mirror. The girl staring back at me isn’t at all like the young girl who would have been there. Her hair was a lot messier, her clothes a bit more tattered, and her eyes a bit tired, and she was a lot thinner, less muscular. I almost don’t recognize her.

With a sigh, I step barefoot onto the sand, feeling it trying to get between my toes; it’s a strange feeling, I’ll admit, but I’m slowly becoming more and more used to it the longer I find myself living here. The closer I walk, the better I can hear the musicians playing softly in the background.

I am not paying attention to anything, other than the proud, adoring smile on Yargwynn’s face; he, too, has changed since I met him, his hair is a bit longer, he never, ever lets me cut it, unless it’s hanging in his face, then he will let me trim a little bit off. He does have it tied back, though, just enough for me to see those hypnotic blue eyes staring back at me.

“You look beautiful,” he says in a whisper as we stand together under a makeshift altar, his thumb gently strokes the back of my hand and already, I feel my nervousness slipping away. Loyal, a guardian angel from Queria, is the one to marry us. Their friends, a vampire, a fearless mouse, and a wizard are part of the small group of friends we’ve invited to join in the celebration.

The second the speech is finished, and we are finally allowed to kiss, as the music picks up to a more upbeat tune, it finally feels real, this whole thing. We’re now husband and wife. Everything we have faced together, every high and every low is worth this one moment, this small fraction of time.

Soon, as the sun has set completely and the stars unveil themselves, it’s as though it’s just the two of us, dancing on the water as the music continues to play. The moonlight reflects off the water, making it shimmer and shine.

“How does it feel to finally be married to me and be Mrs. Yargwynn Salta?” Yargwynn asks as we lay side by side on the sand, and the waves rush against our feet.

“It feels pretty good,” I reply, closing my eyes as a warm breeze blows by, and finding his hand, putting it into my own. “I just wish there was a way they could have been there and seen us, you know?”

He gently pulls his hand free, then shifts a little so that he’s sitting up on one elbow and his chin rests on my hand. “They were here. They did see us and they were happy. And they wouldn’t want to see you crying on your wedding day.”

I sniffed, then nodded my head slowly, standing up and then moving towards the water. It’s nice and cool, perfect for swimming in. I lie back, letting it hold me up. I glance up at the infinite number of stars peering down at me, once again reminding me that I am only a speck, just a dot on a gigantic canvas.

My eyes pop open when I feel two hands gripping my waist and pulling me up, grinning down at me.

“Leaving me already?” he frowns and clicks his tongue, “Arkov, my darling, how could you? And on our wedding day, too.”

“Leave you? I would never!” I struggle to catch enough breath to stop laughing and reply. “I am not as tricky as you think I am.”

He sighs dramatically and then puts me down, sulking. I roll my eyes and then with both of my hands, I splash him with as much energy as I have.

“Did you…just splash me?” He sputters; I nod and he grins, more madly now, and then splashes me back. “Yeah, you’re in trouble now!”

I manage to dodge out of the way and soon, we’re both laughing and splashing each other like the children we once were.

Later, as soon as we are both calm and dried off, we lay down on top of the soft sheets, lulled by the sound of the waves crashing outside.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Yargwynn whispers in my ear, his deep voice husky and his accent a lot thicker.

“Not enough,” I tease and he pulls me on top of him, keeping his hands on my hips.

“Alright then, I will tell you every day until the day I die how much I love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“And you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.” I kiss his nose, “and I love you more, to the four corners of the universe and back again.”

He rolls over so that I am the one beneath him. He nuzzles my neck, making me laugh and the love in his eyes makes me melt completely. “And I love you, my beautiful wife, to infinity beyond infinity”

I lay my head down on his chest, allowing my hand to rest right above his heart as he makes his way further into mine.

The End!

Please consider checking out the inspiration behind the story created by @goodboyaudios

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Breakfast for Two

Fandom: DC, Suicide Squad, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag, F!Reader

Summary: On your first anniversary, Rick tries to surprise you by making eggs for breakfast. While it doesn’t go as planned, you keep up that tradition years later.

Word Count: 1282

TW: Fluff, Implied Smut, Nudity, Angst, Grief, Depression, Character Death, Drinking, Language

The smell of food stirred you from your peaceful slumber. Rolling over, you noticed that you were alone in your bed, which wasn’t surprising considering the sounds and smells coming from the other room. Wrapping the sheet around your naked form, you rolled off the mattress and padded gently to the kitchen. Pausing as you entered the room, you took in the sight before you.

Rick was at the stove wearing an apron, a chef’s hat, and nothing else. You leaned against the doorframe and just watched his bare backside for a minute while he hurried between the stove and the refrigerator and the sink, trying to tackle three or four tasks at a time and succeeding at none of them. As he tried to grab the milk from inside the refrigerator, the kettle he was filling with water began to overflow. And as he scurried over to turn off the faucet (leaving the door to the refrigerator wide open), you saw smoke beginning to rise from the skillet on the stove. Cursing loudly, Rick almost dropped the kettle as he rushed over to flip the eggs. And he did all of this with his ass hanging out the backless apron.

Smiling to yourself, you snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He jumped slightly then relaxed, leaning back into you as all the tension and frustration in his shoulders melted away under your touch.

“Good morning, Colonel Flag. What are you up to?” Your voice was slightly muffled as you pressed your face against his back.

Rick chuckled. “Well, good morning, Mrs. Flag. I was tryin’ to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but I guess I screwed that up.”

Giving him a tight squeeze, you cooed, “Aww, Rick. You didn’t have to do that. We could have gone out or something this morning. There was no reason to-”

“Pamper my wife? ‘course there is. This is our first anniversary and I wanna make it special. You deserve to be rewarded for puttin’ up with me for a whole year. “

You snorted and placed a soft kiss on his bare shoulder blade. “I don’t think burnt eggs are a fair exchange for that.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the thought that counts. You know I’ve always been a shit cook.” Even without being able to see it, you could picture the sheepish grin you knew was stretched across his face.

“You’re right, baby, and I appreciate the effort. Though I thought you could at least handle eggs but… whatever.”

He turned to face you, your arms still around him, and he smiled as he got his first good look at you that morning. Cupping your face in his hand, he whispered, “God, how did I get so lucky to find you? And to actually get you to agree to spend your life with me?”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” You started to tilt your head up to kiss him when you noticed something over his shoulder. “Um… Rick?” You nodded towards the pan which now had smoke billowing off of it.

Swearing once again, Rick pulled himself from your embrace and rushed over to turn off the stove. Picking up the skillet, he stared dejectedly at the ruined remains of his sweet anniversary offering. With a sigh, he dumped the blackened eggs in the trash before tossing the pan into the sink. “Well, these are fucked. Maybe next year I’ll get ‘em right.”

You grinned as you faced him, sliding your arm once more around his waist. “Or if not, we always have the year after that or the year after that or the year afte-”

Rick captured your lips with his, swallowing the rest of your words. While still clutching the front of the sheet wrapped around you with one hand, you ran the other up the back of his neck and tangled your fingers into his hair. The chef’s hat tumbled to the floor, but the two of you barely noticed.  You drew him deeper into your lips as he grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against his muscular form. Your head began to swim but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cloud of desire that had surrounded you or from the lack of oxygen as Rick devoured your mouth.

All too soon, you were forced to break away. The two of you stared at each other with lustful eyes before he pulled you in close once again. His face flushed and his voice slightly breathless, Rick murmured into your ear, “Well, darlin’, it looks like we’re gonna have to find something else to eat this morning.”

Smiling coyly at your husband, you said, “Oh, I think I have an idea.”

You took a few steps back and dropped the sheet.

When you open your eyes, you are met with silence and only the faintest glow of light squeezing through the cracks in your blinds. You have no idea what time it is, but judging by the intensity of the slivers of light, you have to guess it’s at least noon, maybe 1 pm. Normally, you would have just rolled back over and gone back to sleep. But not today. Today is special. Today you actually have to try.

So, with a loud groan, you stagger off the bed, still slightly tipsy from the night before. Your head is pounding but you somehow manage to stumble into the kitchen and yank the door to the refrigerator open. Sighing, you take in the few measly items inside: half of a moldy loaf of bread, three bottles of cheap beer, what you think was once an orange, and two eggs. Grabbing the eggs and a beer, you close the door.

Popping off the lid on the edge of the counter, you take a long swig of the beer as you begin rummaging around for a pan. Finally finding one that doesn’t look too dirty, you turn on the stove and crack the eggs. As you stand there listening to them sizzle, you down the rest of your beer. You consider making a pot of coffee, but the other beers in the refrigerator sound more appealing to you. Flipping the eggs, you add just a dash of salt and pepper. After another couple of minutes, you slide the perfect eggs onto two plates and carry them over to the table.

Shoving piles of unopened letters, unpaid bills, and old takeout menus to the floor, you clear off enough room to set the plates. You decide to grab another beer before settling down into your seat at the table. Staring at the plate in front of you, your eyes slowly drift to the one set before the empty chair across the table. The place Rick should be sitting.

It had been three months since you had lost him. Three months since you received the call that your husband wasn’t coming home from Corto Maltese. That they weren’t even able to recover his body for you to bury. That he was being stripped of all military honors because he had turned against his country in his last moments (which you could not, would not believe). That the life the two of you had planned, the years and years of adventures, love, and laughter, were just over and done. That half of your heart had been ripped from your chest and left you with little will to keep going.

You just stare at the seat which he will never again sit in. At the breakfast tradition he will never again get to enjoy. And as your first tear rolls down your cheek, you whisper, “Happy anniversary, baby.”

[enjolras-out]

What do you think about this most recent update? (You don't have to answer if you're busy.)

I am so busy! But not too busy for update!! Thank you for the ask! I have SO many thoughts… here are some:

Hyrule! He comes across as so tough and confident, teasing and pushing Twi and refusing to let him give up. Especially based on the previous update, I’m pretty sure his bravado is an act – he’s putting on a brave face to try and give Twi that tiny bit extra moral support but we already know he feels helpless and doesn’t know what to do but he’s TRYING. Being able to see the character development between the earliest doodles where he’s so insecure about his place in the group and here, where he deliberately takes a leading position in this scene both physically and emotionally, is amazing!

(there was a tiny part of me that was kinda hoping he'd get in on the hurt/comfort by exhausting himself trying to heal Twilight but that was nodded to by the stamina potion thing and also it would have messed up the focus of the scene... so fair enough. I can wait a little longer for my Hyrule angst)

I was actually super close to making a post analyzing/exploding about that one BOTW flashback panel where Wild is climbing the cliff but then I realized I was the only one who cared about how Jojo actually makes the fun but totally ridiculous BOTW climbing style look like it would actually work and ALSO drew his right hand in an excellent half crimp and ALSO how you can see his fingers are literally bleeding and this is super realistic especially when you consider the sheer size of those cliff-faces. I love how she depicted so well the visceral effort it would actually take to climb one and I guess now I’ve sort of made the post. Sorry. Rambling.

That moment at the end where Time claps Wild’s shoulder is so beautiful. Wild looks like he’s not sure whether Time’s going to tell him off and then Time just says ‘thank you’ and Wild looks so happy. The kind of passing of the torch from Time to Twilight to Wild just gives me all the emotions.

And LEGEND. Cradling his hat like a comfort blanket. And reminding Twilight they’ve got to go fishing one of these days. May I suggest the hc that Legend used to go fishing with his uncle when he was little. I love this hint that even these two have managed to build a relationship despite being so different.

And Four clearly still doesn't know what to make of Wild. Even when the others are laughing he's giving Wild worried looks. Is he scared Wild will give away his secret? Or still (at least one quarter) mad?

Finally - 'this fire burning in my blood, I can feel it'. Is it just me or does that not sound so much like someone dying of fever as someone aware something evil is inside them, maybe trying to possess or corrupt them from the inside out? Maybe it's just me. Still think evil Twilight could happen and it would be so much more angsty now after they've all reunited around his deathbed...

So much is happening and there are so many beautiful details with so much characterization in them! I still don't know if Twilight is actually on his way to healing or not? I think something really bad might happen next update? But it's all kind of on a knife edge for me, could go either way?!

[dragonmuse]

can we get some jim and read one on one bonding time?

(you can! This took a turn on me. Very small mention of blood.)

“Okay,” Jim unbuckled their seatbelt and cracked the window. They were probably going to be here for an hour at least, waiting to bust the lady, who couldn’t seem to stay away from her lover. Every day shit. “Hit me.” 

“Uh, I don’t have one ready, hold on.” Read undid her seatbelt too and drew her book out of her messenger bag. 

There were a few quiet minutes while she flipped through the book. Since she’d restarted college, Jim had occasionally asked for updates. It was all very casual, polite interest, except for the way they kept asking, teasing out details. Lately, they’d been mostly curious about the poetry class Read was taking to fill a requirement.  

When you were stuck in a car with someone for hours at a time, it was good to have things to concentrate on. There were only so many conversations you could have about what was observable and how cranky your boss was that day. Especially when your conversation partner saw sentences longer than three or four words as ostentatious. 

So Read had taken to reading poetry to Jim, in a turn she could never have predicted. And Jim seemed to enjoy it, even going so far as to encourage it. 

“Okay...this one was from last week,” Read took a sip of water. She didn’t read particularly fluidly, but doing these with Jim had helped some with that. They came a little easier now. “Let the More Loving One be Me  by W.H. Auden 

“Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

That, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am

Of stars that do not give a damn,

I cannot, now I see them, say

I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,

I should learn to look at an empty sky

And feel its total dark sublime,

Though this might take me a little time.”

“Huh,” Jim frowned. “Can you read it again?” 

Read obliged, trying to parse it as she went through it again herself. 

“What do you think?” She asked into the silence that followed. 

Jim picked at one of their nails for a second, then nodded, “Feels right.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Loving something, it’s better if you care more about them than they do about you.” 

“You really think so?” Read frowned. “I dunno. Sounds painful, really.” 

“Nah. Loving something is easy. It’s the loving back, all the stuff that comes in the middle of it that’s hard.” 

“Huh,” Read looked over the words again. “It feels awful though. Having a crush or something and it’s not returned. Hasn’t that ever happened to you?” 

Jim shrugged, then conceded with a nod. “Not great. But being on the other side of that? Blech. Rather pine than be pined after.” 

“I guess,” Read made a face. “Better not to be either.” 

“Point is kind of that it doesn’t matter. Like he’s saying if the stars disappear, then he’d be fine with that too eventually.” 

“When Anne left for those weeks, it felt like someone gutted me,” Read closed the book.

“Sure, but you would’ve been okay. Even if she never came back.” 

Read wavered, “You think?” 

“Yeah. You gotta figure out how to live with yourself. Only person you have your whole life,” Jim said firmly.  

“Pretty good advice.” 

“Just true.” 

“You and Oluwande...” 

“Love him,” Jim had a faint smile. “Be a worse life without him. But I’d still live. I’d still love.” 

Read tucked the book back into the bag. 

“I always thought poetry was about how great love is, but I guess it can be about a lot of things.” 

“Yesterday upon the stair.,” Jim said softly, “ I met a man who wasn’t there. He wasn’t there again today. Oh how I wish he’d go away.” 

“Oh creepy, what’s that from?” 

“Don’t know. My brother taught it to me,” Jim looked away. “Think about that all the time.” 

Read got out her phone, “Uhh...let’s see. Antigonish by William Huges Mearns. Wow, that’s really creepy.” 

“First poem I knew.” 

“I can’t remember one. But yeah, that would stick,” she agreed. “So just about a ghost, you think?” 

“Lots of things you can feel that aren’t there.” 

“Oh wow, that’s ominous, thanks. You think so?” 

Jim glanced at her then away. “Yeah. World is complicated.” 

“We never talked about it.” 

“About what?” Jim picked at their nail again, the cuticles were a mess. It always reassured Read that Jim had this small habit, a chink in their seamless armor. 

“The hotel.” 

“Because Lucius said not to.” 

“His word isn’t law. And I think he meant not to ask him about it. Didn’t he?” 

Jim peeled away a fleck of skin. A tiny dot of blood welled up and they grabbed up a napkin, pressing it to the spot.  

“Did you want to talk about it?” 

The waves of the pool still woke Read up in the middle of the night sometimes. She could not longer be sure what she’d seen in them, but she knew whatever had been in the depths wanted her, longed for her. 

Maybe she had been the stars that night. 

“No. I guess not.” 

Jim nodded, “Me either.” 

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the street for their errant mark. 

“The thing is,” Read said eventually, “I worry that I’ll forget entirely.” 

“Would that be bad?” 

“What if forgetting means it could happen again?” 

Jim crumbled the napkin, squashing it down so it disappeared into their palm.  They had no answer.

The client showed up a few minutes later and they became busy with taking pictures and texting Izzy updates. Their conversation went easy again as work distracted them, then business of deciding on lunch. 

Read pushed it all aside again. She’d try again another time. Or maybe not.