#the more i drew the messier i got

[applestruda]

They were not immune to the goodtimes

[bagelqaq]

It’s alright to complain a little, when you’ve worked so hard.

[ichorai]

thread ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; “they’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “we showed them there’s no sharks in the water. obviously they’re going to jump in.”

words ; 6.6k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, action

warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury/death/drug misuse, coryo's paranoia, he isn't exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus came late to class. He rushed in, uniform only slightly askew, and hair messier than usual. You moved your bag aside so he could take a seat beside you. With a nod, he slipped into the row and began laying out his books. 

You wondered how Tigris reacted once he got back home. Probably worried sick for her cousin and her friend. Your father, of course, was furious with you once he learned about your tryst with Coriolanus in the Capitol Zoo, but there was little he could do when he was off working in the districts. During dinner with your mother, Lucretius Flickerman, and his wife, the tributes and the games were practically all the three could talk about. Lucky was going to be the first ever host, apparently.

How fun.

To neither of your surprise, Highbottom eyed the two of you with disdain. When you had strode into the hall, he remained silent. Coriolanus’ arrival seemed to tip him right over the edge.

“Both of your little excursions were in violation of about five different academy rules,” he grumbled. “Chiefly amongst them—endangering a Capitol student. Yourselves.”

“There were peacekeepers crawling all over the place,” Coriolanus retorted. 

The dean’s nose twitched angrily. Then, he fixed you with a harsh look over his spectacles, and drawled out your name. “Since you are the academy’s brightest, and your records have been… untarnished until now, I will let you off with a warning.” There was a pause, before the dean continued. “Mr. Snow, I’m moving for the gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor, effective immediately.”

“What?” the two of you exclaimed at once.

“You said we had to get them to perform, not stay away!” Coriolanus just about spat.

“I’ll add insubordination, as well,” Highbottom replied, tone venomous.

Raising your hand and ignoring the dean’s irritated exhale, you haughtily said, “It was me who went into the tribute’s truck. Coriolanus only followed. We didn’t know that we’d end up in a zoo enclosure.”

Arachne tittered with condescending laughter. “Yeah, and then you held hands with them. Made it seem like we’re the same as those animals.”

From your other side, Sejanus was quick to defend the two of you. “Coriolanus and Y/N didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Stiffening, Coryo scowled and said, “I don’t need your help, Sejanus.”

He ignored him and continued on, “That the tributes are human beings, just like us. That’s why nobody wants to watch the games—because people know, deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights!”

“Dean Highbottom,” you called, not bothering to raise your hand this time. “How is it fair that Coriolanus gets disqualified while I’m not? We did what you told us to do! We were just trying to get to know our tributes.”

“Would you like to be disqualified as well? I can surely arrange for that to happen,” he deadpanned. “But poor little Wovey would be left all on her own.”

Nausea coiled within your abdomen. You drew yourself up to your full height. “Well, that would be entirely unnecessary—” 

Before you could finish your sentence, the doors to the lecture theater swung open once more, and Dr. Volumnia Gaul crept in, footsteps completely silent. How she managed that, you weren’t at all sure.

With everyone’s eyes on her, she fixed her stare on the two of you. Her hair was wrangled back into a high up-do, tall and grey on her head. 

“Quite a show you two put on. You’re good players,” she said, voice booming throughout the theater. “The hunger games needs good players. Maybe one day you’ll be gamemakers, like me.”

The thought sent chills up your spine. Coriolanus kept his expression stoic.

“If the games continue at all,” said Highbottom.

Singular blue eye flashing, Dr. Gaul grinned in an unnerving manner. “Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Snow and L/N in that zoo? The people would never stop wanting for more.” She drew closer to the rows of seats, gloved hand trailing over a few of the desks. “I came here to ask the star mentors a question… what are the hunger games for?”

You and Coriolanus exchanged a quick glance.

“They’re to punish the districts for their uprising,” he said, as if it were obvious. “To commemorate the end of the war.”

Volumnia’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, in a similar fashion to a snake.

“And what would you say, Y/N?”

It was hard to maintain eye contact with her, especially because it felt like she could peer into your very soul and dissect you apart from inside out—but you managed. With your father being such an avid supporter of the hunger games, you wondered if your answer would be what she was looking for. “I don’t agree with the games. But I know it’s because—fear is power. Keep the districts afraid for themselves, for their children, and you’ll always have the upper hand.”

She smiled, wide and eerie. “You’re right. Fear is power. But punishment and fear can take many forms. They can come from bomb droppings, the cancelling of food shipments, stage executions. The question is, why games?”

Defensive, Sejanus spoke up, “Shouldn’t we be asking whether or not it’s right in the first place?”

“You have a problem with my games?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended! The oldest of them were only eight!” he exclaimed. “The Capitol is supposed to be everyone’s government now. It is supposed to protect all of us. I don’t see how making children fight each other to the death is protecting anyone.”

With a sneer, Dr. Gaul told him, “That sort of sympathy might be interfering with your mentoring assignment, Mr. Plinth.”

Finally, Highbottom said to his colleague, “Perhaps Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the games’ time has passed.”

Yes, you thought. It’s time to let it go.

To your surprise, Coriolanus abruptly stood up from his seat. “Dean Highbottom is wrong,” he asserted. “My classmates, too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. We should be viewing those tributes as human beings. You saw those kids at the zoo. They just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should let them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal.”

“Who would watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?” Dr. Gaul asked, as if the notion of caring about district folk was ludicrous.

“Everyone,” replied Coriolanus. “Especially if they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning. People need someone to root for and someone to root against! And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we can even have them place bets.” 

You felt sick as you looked up at Coriolanus with a mildly disturbed expression. If he noticed, he didn’t give you any indication.

“I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena,” he continued. “But if you give her a chance—I would bet the Plinth prize that she could win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul was effectively intrigued.

“I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow,” she said. 

Clemensia, strong-headed as ever, stood up and said that she should be working with Coriolanus, as his class partner.

With an amused snicker, Volumnia bowed her head and made her way back to the door. “It’ll be an interesting test,” she ominously said before turning on her heel and exiting, her dark cloak billowing out behind her.

During lunch, you sat down across from Coriolanus in the cafeteria, noticing that he had three sandwiches stacked on his plate, along with half a dozen cookies on another. It was a rare thing, seeing him with so much food. Usually he opted for just starving himself to save some money, despite your urges to get him to eat.

“Hungry?” you asked with an arched brow, but he shook his head.

“It’s for Lucy Gray,” he replied, staring down at the food. Then, he pulled out a red handkerchief and started wrapping the food up. “I’m going back.”

With a soft sigh, you started digging into your own lunch. “Hopefully not inside this time.”

He spared you half a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you coming? Everyone else is. I heard Arachne tell Felix she’s going to use food to get her tribute to do tricks for her.”

With a wrinkle of your nose, you glanced over at her several tables down. “Sounds like something she’d say.” You took a bite of your food and chewed thoughtfully.

“They’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“Of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “We showed them there’s no sharks in the water. Obviously they’re going to jump in.”

He tied the handkerchief together so the sandwiches and cookies would stay put. “They’re all sheep. No original thought whatsoever.”

There it was again, your wind-chime laugh. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, now empty save for a few bread crumbs. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, Coryo. Besides, I’m glad most of the class is going. The tributes must be starving in there,” you told him. “I’ll come and bring some food for Wovey.”

A voice from your right jutted into your conversation, Sejanus’ angry face coming into view as he slammed down his lunch tray in the empty spot beside you. “You guys going to fatten up your tributes so you can finally start taking bets?” he just about snarled.

“Do you think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it?” Coriolanus responded defensively, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?”

“We can’t send them back to their homes,” you told Sejanus in a juxtaposingly calm tone. “The best we can do for them now is help them out here.”

The curly-haired man slumped forward, his shoulder stooping like an old wildflower. “He was my classmate,” he muttered. “Back in two.”

Though you gave Sejanus a sympathetic look, Coryo regarded Sejanus as if he was confused. He wondered why Sejanus even bothered to care this much when he was no longer a part of the districts.

“It’s not your fault that—” Coriolanus began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so blameless I’m choking on it!” he gritted out. Then, he let out a shaky breath, trying to steel himself. “My father bought him for me, you know. At the reaping. Just so he could show me that I could never go back to two.”

A frown marred your features. “He bribed Highbottom?”

“Something like that,” Sejanus told you, using the prongs of his fork to poke and prod at his food. “Morphling costs a pretty penny.”

Silence stretched over the three of you for a few seconds. Coriolanus looked annoyed, but Sejanus didn’t seem to notice. 

“Being in the Capitol is going to kill me,” he sighed.

This made Coryo scowl. “So do something about it.”

Sejanus’ dark eyes flitted over to the bundle of food in Coriolanus’ hands. “You’re quite the rebel.”

Coriolanus retorted, “Oh, yeah. I’m bad news.”

When he said that, he’d expected you to laugh again, but you kept quiet, staring down at your now-unappetizing lunch.

There was a considerably larger crowd around the enclosure that evening. You had a small basket clutched in one hand, consisting of juice boxes (still grape, since you now knew it was a safe option), soft bread rolls, and wrapped leftovers from your dinner with Lucky. You hoped Wovey wasn’t allergic to anything—you’d forgotten to ask in the heat of it all.

Coriolanus still only had the few sandwiches he saved from lunch, but you assured him that you were more than happy to share with Lucy Gray if need be. 

She looked much more haggard tonight, most of her makeup smeared off, her lips chapped and bleeding at the center from what you assumed was anxious biting, and her hair was more unruly. Though her eyes still held the same fire, the same passion, lighting up when she noticed the two of you approaching. She asked if the food was for them with slight surprise—you often forget that they hadn’t much to eat in the districts, anyway—and took what was offered, before handing off a good portion of it to her district partner, Jessup. The larger man declined the food at first, claiming he wasn’t hungry, but eventually caved and took the sandwiches. 

When he turned to walk off, Coriolanus asked about the nasty wound on his neck. It was just behind his ear and oozing with blood and pus. A bat bite on the train, Lucy Gray told the two of you, looking awfully guilty on behalf of her friend. 

Crooning from a little way’s away drew your attention to Arachne and her tribute. She was dangling a cold bottle of water just inches from the tribute’s reach, urging her to beg.

Lucy Gray’s brows cinched. “One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon. Your friend over there sure knows it.”

The two of you scoffed at the same time.

“She is not my friend,” Coriolanus told her. “She is poison with perfect teeth.”

“How such a vile tongue hides behind those pearly whites, I wouldn’t ever know,” you remarked, earning you a snicker from Coriolanus. Finally, you peered around for Wovey, eager to finally get her something to eat. However, curse your damned softening heart, your eyes grew gentle upon seeing her curled up by the very same tree stump, head resting on Bobbin’s shoulder, fast asleep. 

Lucy Gray casted a glimpse over her shoulder to see what you were looking at. 

“Could you give this to her?” you asked, slotting the small basket between the enclosure’s metal bars. “When she wakes up, that is. She must be famished. Feel free to take anything in there, but just… leave some for her.”

The girl nodded, taking the basket from you and handing it over to Jessup, who cradled it as if it were more precious than gold. You watched him carefully—not because you were worried he was going to keep all the food to himself, but because you were curious as to why he hadn’t reached in to take anything for himself yet, even after several minutes passed by. 

Coriolanus leaned forward, wrapping a hand around one of the bars as he lowered his voice. “Are you going to share everything with Jessup?”

Lucy Gray’s expression faltered. “Why? You think I oughta build up my strength to strangle him in the arena? Not exactly my forte.”

“I might have a chance to help you,” he told her, watching her keenly. “To make some suggestions to the gamemakers. I might even be able to get the audience to send you gifts in the arena. Food, and water, to keep you going. You just have to try singing again.”

Firmly, Lucy Gray said, “I don’t sing when I’m told, I sing when I have something to say.”

“And you have nothing to say?” you asked her, head tilting. “The whole world is watching, Lucy Gray. Now’s your chance.”

A myriad of emotions crossed over her face. “It doesn’t matter much now, does it? I’ve seen the arena—there’s nowhere to hide. What’s the point?” Her gaze traveled from you to Coriolanus. “The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch and you say you want to help me. Which is it?”

“Both?” he offered. 

It didn’t satisfy her, but it was enough, for now. 

Then, she grabbed a sandwich from the red handkerchief and took a large bite, a muffled noise of appreciation falling from her lips. 

“Bread’s soft,” she said around a mouthful. “Softer than in twelve.”

Then, she offered a cookie to Coriolanus. He began to protest, but she insisted he take it.

“I saw you staring,” she said. “I always thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol.”

Coriolanus laughed, a coarse and unrefined sound. “One time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach.” 

A match of pity struck within the confines of your chest, but you remained quiet. Coriolanus told you stories of his times during the war often—usually after the two of you laid together, sweaty and naked, bearing your souls to one another. Pillow talk made him quite emotional, you found.

“And how was it?” Lucy Gray queried, eyes round.

Coriolanus took a bite of the cookie, humming in though. Then, he shrugged. “Pasty,” he said.

Lucy Gray laughed. She looked back to you, appreciative. “Thank you, for the food. I’m sure the little one’s going to be happy.” Your eyes flickered back to Wovey. She stirred a bit on Bobbin’s shoulder, but remained asleep. “She’s so sweet. So young. Something about her reminds me of my cousin, Maude Ivory. I can’t stand to think of them without me like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Coriolanus whispered.

You nodded in agreement. “They’re waiting for you, I’m sure. You’ll see them again.”

Lucy Gray smiled sadly. “I won’t hold you to that.” Then, after she took another bite, she blew out a gentle sigh. “You two seem like… genuine folk. It sure would’ve been nice to meet you under different circumstances.”

Coriolanus leaned his head against the enclosure’s bars. “One of your shows, maybe.”

Somehow, her smile grew impossibly wider, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Yeah. Yeah, I would’ve liked that.” With a light sniffle, she asked the two of you, “You two keen on dancing?”

You thought back to all the dance lessons you were forced to take as a young child. It was never your strong suit. “Not really, no. Coriolanus is much better than I am.” 

“Not your fancy Capitol dancing,” she told you, waving a hand in the air. “Dancing like you’re free. Dancing with no rules. Just the music, to guide you.”

Both you and Coriolanus exchanged glances. “Can’t say I’ve tried,” you replied. “But it sounds fun.”

Lucy Gray nodded, showing more enthusiasm than you’d ever seen in her before. “You’d have the time of your life. If you ever visit… I’d love for you to come. Both of you—we’d have a drink. Share a dance or two. We’d have all the time in the world. People always say our music shows are the best places for romantic dates. It’d be perfect for you two.”

It was a pleasant fantasy to entertain. But that’s all it was—a fantasy. When you looked at Coriolanus, his expression was simultaneously strained and distant, as if he were far away, thinking of other things. You reached out to place your hand on his shoulder.

But before you could, screams erupted from around the enclosure, followed closely by shattering glass. You whipped your head away from Lucy Gray, seeing Arachne’s tribute jabbing the broken glass bottle straight into her jugular. Coriolanus yelled something—you weren’t entirely sure what, but he jumped up to grab Arachne, applying pressure to the wound.

It wasn’t enough. 

Blood, dark and viscous and filling the air with the smell of copper, began to pool around her neck, down her shoulders, filling the crevices of her collarbones. She was blubbering something, gargling through blood, but you couldn’t quite hear with the loud static buzzing in your ears. 

You glanced to the side, catching sight of peacekeepers lining up their guns to shoot. You rushed forward to get to Coriolanus, yanking him down just as several shots rang out. He was whimpering, telling Arachne to hold on for him, but when you frantically reached down to feel for her pale wrist’s pulse—it wasn’t there.

Arachne was dead. 

You clambered off of Coriolanus, away from the dead girl, backing away. You only barely registered Sejanus calling out your name in concern, but you didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, you turned your eyes to the tributes, all ducking and cowering behind trees and tires. To your relief, Wovey was now awake, eyes wide as she crouched behind the tree stump with Bobbin.

The relief was short-lived, however, because peacekeepers began urging everybody away from the enclosure. You reached out for Coriolanus, taking his arm. He was shaking, eyes as large as saucers and visibly distraught. 

The two of you walked to his estate in tense silence.

Once there, Grandma’am and Tigris fawned over the two of you, though in far different ways. Grandma’am dove into a lecture about rebels and how lucky the two of you were that your tributes hadn’t done the very same. Tigris wrapped a warm shawl over you and a patched blanket over her cousin, telling Grandma’am that Lucy Gray and Wovey weren’t rebels, just innocent girls. 

“Trust me, that one hasn’t been a girl in a long time,” Grandma’am bitterly retorted. “Outside this Capitol, they’re savages, however they may smile. She will use you, Coriolanus. You must use her or you’ll end up dead in the trees, like your father.”

Coriolanus stiffened. 

An hour later, he tugged you into his room and kissed you hard and desperate, as if he wanted to distract himself from his own thoughts. You were the one to pull away, even if everything inside you was screaming to stay. You almost caved, almost, when his head dipped forward in an attempt to capture your lips again, but you placed the tips of your fingers over his mouth with a soft, sympathetic smile. You hugged him tight until he stopped trembling, and reluctantly drew yourself away from him. After embracing Tigris goodnight, you walked home alone with your thoughts, wondering if the games were going to continue in lieu of the evening’s events.

There was an assembly held at the academy for Arachne’s death, followed promptly by a proper funeral. Though, it didn’t quite feel proper with all the cameras and reporters hovering around. You wondered if people were expecting to see you cry. You were incredibly shaken, sure, but were you sad?

It’d be a lie if you said yes.

They made sure to zoom in on you and Coriolanus when you kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand just before he was appointed to go on stage and sing the national anthem. Why he was the one to do so, the two of you had no idea. It’s not like Arachne was friends with him, despite what the reporters wanted to think. It was a ridiculous waste of breath, he thought, singing for a girl he barely knew.

After Coriolanus’ performance, President Ravinstill gave a rather monotonous speech about courage and bravery. How Arachne was going to be sorely missed. Right—of course she was.

And the very next day, life moved on. As if Arachne’s death had never happened.

Soon after, they had all the mentors and tributes gathered into one of the academy halls— with the tributes shackled to tables, of course. It wasn’t like there was anywhere for them to run. You’d seen all the peacekeepers lining the hallways outside.

“In spite of yesterday’s tragic events,” Highbottom said, not a shred of sincerity to be found in his tone, “our President has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone that the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror. To which end Dr. Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a special, televised presentation of each tribute to our audience so they could… get to know them.”

A glorified show-and-tell, you dryly thought. How wonderful.

You and Coriolanus looked at each other for a brief moment—he’d ask Lucy Gray to sing again, you were certain. Then, you turned back forward, where Wovey was fiddling with her thumbs, sniffling a few times.

“You’ll have an hour to discuss strategy,” said the dean, before whisking himself off to the shadows of the room to down another vial of morphling.

You sat down in front of your tribute, trying your best to offer her a warm smile.

“Did you like the food I brought? Was it okay?” you whispered, making sure to lower your voice.

A nod, a scuffle of feet. Her bottom lip trembled.

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you moved on to the pressing matter at hand. “Okay, Wovey. I need… I need to know what you’re good at. Are you a fast runner?” 

She thought for a moment, but then shook her head.

“I know you can climb?”

She let out a shaky sigh. “I used to climb in my mama’s factory all the time. Trees, too.”

“Good. That’s good,” you murmured, pulling out a notepad so you could jot some things down. “Are you good at hiding? Staying still?”

“I think so,” she said, looking awfully uncomfortable. “Will I go back home if I win?”

A sharp pang hit you square in the chest. You tore your gaze away from your notes on the paper to look at her. 

“Yes,” you hesitantly replied. “They’ll take you home.”

This seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Gave her hope that you perhaps shouldn’t have instilled.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “So—for your televised presentation. We need to win the audience over so they send in donations—I’d be able to send you things. What do you want to do?”

After quite a bit of back and forth, you managed to get Wovey to agree to talk about her family on stage. How much she missed them. It wasn’t much, but perhaps the youngest tribute sympathy card would push the odds in your favor.

Halfway through the hour, however, Coriolanus and Clemensia were called away by Highbottom—most likely to discuss the proposal Coryo had written up once you left the estate. You made a mental note to ask him how it goes once you saw him again. You felt bad, seeing Lucy Gray sitting all alone, bound hands lightly rapping against the table’s wood.

By the stroke of four in the afternoon, they gathered all the mentors and tributes in front of the arena. Coriolanus came bounding up to the group just seconds away from the gates opening, appearing breathless and mildly frazzled. 

“You okay? Where’s Clemmie?” you asked, resting a hand on his elbow, brows kinking with confusion.

“She’s… not going to make it.” He winced, appearing distinctly torn. “I’ll tell you later.”

There was a brief silence where you scrutinized him, eyes wide. Something bad happened when he was with Dr. Gaul, and you weren’t too keen on finding out.

You walked alongside Coriolanus into the arena, with your two tributes in front of you. Lucy Gray was saying something comforting to Wovey in that sweet voice of hers, and for that you were grateful. The last thing you needed was Wovey to break down in an anxious mess. 

The arena itself was spacious but incredibly rundown, crumbling under the weight of its neglected upkeep. The glass roof was stained and dusty, rusty slants creaking as they parted to filter sunlight into the dome.

“Welcome to the arena of the 10th annual hunger games,” a distorted voice echoed through the arena’s shoddy speaker system. “Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy.”

With one final squeeze on Coriolanus’ shoulder, you parted ways with him, stepping beside Wovey to urge her into a lap around the arena. Staggered rows of dusty seats lined the edges high above the ground—Wovey was a good climber, wasn’t she? 

You tried your best to give her advice. “Hiding in the seats is your best option. Climbing over the rows whenever someone comes to attack you should buy you time. You’re small, too—I think you’d be able to crawl beneath the seats to get away. As for weapons… maybe grab something small from the center. A knife or a dagger. But only if you have time, and only if you know you can make it. If not, just make a break for the seats, as fast as you can. Got that, sweetheart?”

Wovey stayed silent. But she nodded. Nodded and nodded until you worried her head was going to pop right off. 

You bent down at the waist slightly so that you were eye-level with her. “I’ll be watching you the whole time. I’m there if you need m—”

Sudden explosions rang out about the arena. Plumes of dust flew everywhere, blinding you almost instantaneously. With your eyes squeezed shut, you felt the ground shake and split and rumble until another closer explosion flung you a good few feet off the ground. You landed on your side with a strangled scream, though the pain only registered a few seconds later. Cracking your aching eyes open and squinting through the haze of dust, you caught sight of shattered glass thundering around you like crystalized rain, nicking your skin with sharp pin pricks. 

Your right side buzzed with warmth. Something damp. You dazedly looked down.

Oh.

It seemed you’d landed right on a broken metal pipe, sticking right out of your abdomen. Blood was pooling down your academy uniform, soaking the fabric a far more sinister shade of red. You choked out something akin to a dry sob, before screaming out for help. You heard dozens of similar cries echo back to you.

With a grunt, you pushed yourself up, 

“CORYO?!” you screamed as loud as you could. Faintly, you could hear his strained voice echo your name back—somewhere across the arena, you’d wager. 

The pain was starting to grow worse. Searing, almost, as if you were being laid over an open fire. You staggered through the rubble, pressing a hand to your side in a terrible attempt to staunch the bleeding, careful not to jostle the pipe. It was probably the only thing keeping you from bleeding out right then and there.

As you kept moving, you caught sight of a large, gaping hole at the opposite end of the arena. There were tributes running out. Peacekeepers shooting them. The explosions had been so loud that your ears were ringing with terrible white noise—you couldn’t even hear the sound of the rifles blasting.

You glanced around wildly. 

You spotted the small little girl near the edge of the arena. Running with Dill, you realized, mind still lagging a second too late from shock. Another explosion rattled through the arena—this time, crumbling the roof away completely.

With a mangled noise, you began limping as quickly as you could.

Another call of your name, echoing and rattling about your skull, and Coriolanus materialized right beside you out of seemingly nowhere. There were two of him, you realized. He appeared fuzzy. 

You reached out for him, but he suddenly pulled you forward, yelling something. Something you couldn’t hear. A flash of rainbow by his left, and you saw Lucy Gray just barely escape being crushed by a large stone support column. 

More crumbling ceiling. Coriolanus’ hands were cold when he urgently shoved you forward. So hard that you went tumbling down, screaming with the sudden painful jolts the metal pipe sent shooting up your spine. A second later, you blearily looked around for Coriolanus—realizing that he’d pushed you into the clear when you found him pinned down under heavy foundational slants—and they’d caught on fire. 

Numb panic shot through your mind. You barely registered your own voice croaking out his name. You tried to crawl towards him, but he only seemed to get farther away. 

The last thing you saw before your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you went careening backwards was the rainbow dress, and wild, dark hair. 

The hospital bed was far from comfortable, but you’d been so tired you were knocked out for half of the day. Though, Tigris told you that you did sort of wake up at some point in the night, mumbling Coriolanus’ name with half-cracked eyes, before falling right back asleep.

He’d startled awake before you—rushing to your bed (right beside his) and taking your limp hand in his cold, clammy one. Brushed the hair away from your forehead and muttered apologies and please don’t die like they were a mantra.

When you finally stirred, you nearly burst into tears upon seeing Coriolanus.

“I thought you died,” you dry-sobbed. Your side ached considerably with the effort. “I thought I was going to die.”

He drew you into a loose hug, careful to avoid your bandaged midriff. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m here. I love you—I’m not going anywhere, okay? Lucy Gray saved you. Saved us.”

“She did?” you croaked, voice soft. Yes, you sort of remembered. It was all a blur.

“She caught you before you could crack your head open on the ground,” said another voice. You turned your stiff neck to see Sejanus at the foot of the other side of your bed, next to Tigris, who was running her hand up and down your arm in a comforting manner.

You blew out a shaky sigh. Your head pulsed, and you suddenly felt nauseous. “What… what happened?”

They took turns explaining. Rebel bombing. The dead tributes. The president’s son, Felix, in critical condition. Sejanus’ tribute missing. How the games were still commencing regardless. The pipe that had been lodged in your abdomen missing any vital organs. How you were lucky to be alive.

“Wovey?” you whispered. “Is she okay?”

Coriolanus smoothed a hand over your head. “She’s okay. Not one of the ones that died.”

“Lucy Gray?” you whispered. 

“Alive. She could have run. She stayed back to help you and me,” he said as his hand traveled down to gently cup your face. There were dark circles under his eyes. “I owe her now. She saved the love of my life.”

“Oh, Coryo—are you okay? Are you hurt?” Your gaze roamed all over his form, clad in an identical hospital gown. 

“A few burns and bruises. Nothing compared to you.” 

You drew in a staggered breath. Every muscle and tendon in your body screamed with even the slightest movements. 

Tigris squeezed your hand. “We were so worried for you. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep all night. Your mother came by earlier but she had to leave—a spill in the lab, or something. And your father sends his love from district two. Your mother said he was furious. Military is doubling down.”

“Typical,” you whispered, supplying the three with half a weary smile, glad that they were there for you. “I can’t believe they’re going on with the games tomorrow. This is absurd.”

“They don’t want to seem weak,” Sejanus bitterly replied. “But you woke up just in time. The televised presentations are starting soon.”

Nearly an hour later, Sejanus switched on the television set hanging in front of the beds. Tribute after tribute went by, most of them appearing gaunt and exhausted. True to what the two of you had discussed, Wovey got on stage and talked about her family back in district eight, despite looking rather shaken. The audience crooned and sighed with pity. Donations were sparse, but still more than you had expected, to your bittersweet relief. You watched from the hospital bed, curled up with Tigris at the head of it, your head on her shoulder, whilst Sejanus and Coriolanus were standing far closer to the curved screen. 

Lucy Gray was the last to go on. She had a guitar with her. And she sang a beautiful song—one about a boy back from home, she said. The audience cheered and sniffled. Even the nurses stopped their bustling to watch, some of them discreetly wiping away tears.

Once visiting hours were over and Tigris and Sejanus were shooed out of the hospital, Coriolanus sat beside you and slung an arm over your shoulder. He slotted his fingers beneath your chin and kissed you deeply. It was a slow embrace, with not a hint of sexual intentions—he just wanted to hold you. Remind himself that you were still alive, still here, still his.

Your nose nudged his when he laid his forehead over yours. The two of you breathed in each other’s comforting presence. Just the two of you. It reminded you of when times were so… uncomplicated. Before all the mentoring came along, the only things you had to worry about were grades and Coriolanus’ refusals to eat properly.

Then, he told you about Clemensia. How she was probably somewhere in this very building. How she screamed when she was bitten by the snake muttation. Your mind raced with questions, but you yawned instead and leaned against his chest. 

“I love you, too, Coryo,” you whispered into his hospital gown, realizing you hadn’t said it back earlier. 

A few minutes later, you were back asleep. Coriolanus was careful not to wake you when he laid you back down. Tucked the blanket up to your chin. He kissed your hairline once more, regarding you with a fond expression, before straightening, trying his best to ignore the aches blossoming over his back and legs.

And then he left the ward, assuring the doctors that he was fine and he could be discharged. They reluctantly agreed after a brief check-up, and had him sign off for himself. Once he was out, he immediately set off for the arena, trying to search for something, anything to keep his tribute alive.

Tunnels. The ground had collapsed into them, giving Lucy Gray a perfect place to run and hide. He went back home, making sure Grandma’am and Tigris were asleep—before pouring a copious amount of powdered rat poison into his late mother’s compact. 

It was cheating. But you and Sejanus had both said it before—he was a rebel by nature. Bad news.

He visited the zoo enclosure and gave it to her then, informing her of the tunnels. Wiped her tears with a handkerchief, then told her he owed her his life and more. That you were okay, and it was all thanks to her. Lucy Gray looked overwhelmed for a moment. She did what any decent person would, she thought. He promised her that she’d get out. Return home to the Covey. False hope whispered unrealistic dreams into her ears and she let herself listen. 

“We all do things we’re not proud of to survive,” he whispered when Lucy Gray attempted to protest, not wanting to poison anyone. He pushed the compact firmly into her hands. “Do it for your family.”

Conflict warred across her features. She nodded once, then twice. 

Coriolanus' expression set with determination. “We are going to win this, Lucy Gray. We’re going to win this together. I’m going to get you home.”

[bananadramaaa]

i’m begging for more alastor+his sisters, i’m in love with the way you portray them!!!!

I'm glad that even though I drew them a few times you still got interested <3 Unfortunately, I don't have enough time for everything I've planned. But here's a small comic that I drew pretty late at night with Al's older sister as a treat (it's even messier than I usually draw so pardon😅).

[tyuns-world]

༻Pumpkin eater༺

Pairing: fem!reader x huening kai x idolbf! taehyun

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), cheating, manipulation, coerced

Summary: Your boyfriend has been too busy to give you attention recently, so sending his friend Kai to hang out with you might offer more than just a simple hangout.

Wc: 2k

Here you were, watching a movie with your boyfriend's best friend, Kai, and all you could think about was how your boyfriend bailed on you again. Ever since he released his new solo song, he's been too busy for you, leaving you sad, lonely, and desperate for touch. You haven't been kissed properly or made love in months, and it's driving you crazy.

You were hoping Kai would get bored and leave so you could finally have some time to yourself. The movie finally ends, and Kai picks up the remote, ready to select another one. "Kai, how long do you plan on covering for him?" you whine, looking over at him.

"I don't know what you mean. I just came over to hang out with you," he says, not very convincingly.

"Kai, when have we ever hung out alone?" you question him.

He looks a bit guilty. "Well, I thought our recent hangouts have made us closer," he feigns hurt. It has been nice to talk to someone who understands your situation.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Play the next movie," you sigh in defeat. So far, you two have been watching your favorite animated movies. It seems like Taehyun, your boyfriend, told him which ones usually cheer you up.

"Well, we're going to watch a movie I've been wanting to see. It just came out, and I heard it was awesome," Kai says.

You shrug, not really minding the change of pace. As the movie started, you thought it was boring. It seemed to be a regular movie about tennis.

You weren't really a sports person, but you didn't complain because the lead was your favorite actress. As the movie went on, it got messier and definitely raunchier. Some of the scenes left you hot and bothered, making it awkward to be horny next to your boyfriend's friend. You glance over at him during a particularly steamy scene and notice him mesmerized. His demeanor is a bit different from his usual self, less relax, and now a pillow is laid across his lap. It seems the scenes were getting to him too.

You wonder why, though. Your excuse was that you haven't been touched in months, and stuff like this easily flustered you now but what was his excuse. After the movie Kai quickly excused himself and left in a hurry. As you cleaned up the snacks, you noticed he left his favorite hoodie behind.

"Well, he'll come back for that eventually," you said to yourself. You brought it into your shared room with your boyfriend and stripped down to a tank top and panties, happy to finally have some alone time. You opened your phone, your favorite porn video ready in your incognito tab. You started groping yourself, trying to imagine it was your boyfriend, but it wasn't enough—you needed another touch.

You were whining and moaning pathetically, so loud that you didn't notice Kai had come back. Seeing your door slightly open with the lights on, he assumed you were still up. He opened the door.

"Hey Y/N, it seems I forgot—" he stopped mid-sentence at the sight unfolding in front of him. You, with eyes screwed shut, lips parted, one strap of your tank top fallen down, exposing one of your plump, round breasts, and your inviting brown legs parted, giving him the best view of your hand down your soaked panties.

You didn't hear him or notice he was at the doorway, battling with himself on whether to leave or enjoy the view. He decided to leave, but your frustrated moans and pouty lips drew him in.

"You need help with that?" a voice said above you. You jumped, ripping your hands out of your panties and attempting to fix yourself.

"Kai, what are you—" you began to say, but he shushed you with a single finger on your mouth. "Do you need help with that?" he asked again. "I—I have a boyfriend," you rambled, blindsided by his question. Kai just hummed.

"You didn't say no," he noted. He started trailing a single finger up your thigh, making direct eye contact the whole time. You shuddered in pleasure.

This is so wrong, you should stop him, but it felt so good to be touched.

"Don't worry, love," he murmured, gently pushing your shoulder, laying you down slightly before he sat face to face with your soaked panties.

He teased the outlines of your lips and clit, rubbing and applying just enough pressure to give you fleeting pleasure. "Kai, we shouldn't," you managed to get out. He didn't respond, only slipped your panties off and brought his face closer to where you needed him.

"You know, oral isn't sex, baby. It'll be fine; there's nothing bad going on," Kai persuaded, his words dripping with manipulation.

You found yourself giving in to his convincing argument. After all, it's not actual penetration, right? Just a little licking. He licked a long stripe up your pussy, causing you to arch your back. He licked a few more stripes like that, teasing you and watching your every reaction before he started eating you out expertly.

He licked and sucked in all the right places, leaving you moaning and your hips thrusting. Kai, being much bigger and stronger, held your hips down with one hand on your stomach, the other wrapped around your thigh keeping it open, giving him complete access. You were so wet, and Kai just lapped it all up.

When your moans grew louder and your hips became more uncontrollable, Kai knew you were close and stopped completely. You looked at him, frustrated, whimpering softly, "Kai." He just smirked.

"Well, it wouldn't be right if I tasted the cum of my best friend's girlfriend, right? That should be only for him," he said. You nodded; he was right—only your boyfriend should know that taste."Here, let me transfer some of the taste I already got. It'd be bad for me to keep it," Kai hovered over you before pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. When he pulled away, you felt a bit disappointed.

"Oh, right. I can't forget to transfer what my tongue tasted," he said before pulling you into a steamy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, making you wetter. You were left wanting more when he finally pulled away, and you looked at his face, which held a smug look.

Kai got up, and you thought he was going to leave. You almost got ready to beg him not to, but all he did was take off his shirt. "Taehyun would scold me if I left you so sad. You know, he told me to cheer you up," he said as he laid back on top of you. "Now I should take his request properly."

He rubbed his middle finger on your pussy, gathering all the slick wetness there, and then rubbed it onto your clit. You couldn't let him finger you—that would be cheating—so you grabbed his arm. "Oh, don't worry, baby. It's just like masturbating. It's only my fingers. You're still a loyal girlfriend, okay?" Kai reassured.

You let go and nodded as he slipped two fingers inside you. It was only his fingers, its just like using your own. "Plus, baby, my fingers are longer, and I can reach more places to help you," he said as he pumped his fingers in and out. He was totally right—your own fingers never felt this good. You could never make yourself moan as loudly as Kai was making you now. As Kai explored your gummy walls, you were left a mess of moans.

You were practically riding his fingers with how much you were moving your hips, wanting him deeper, craving something fuller. You clung onto his neck, his hot chest touching yours. As soon as Kai found that sweet spot, your mouth hung open, a loud "Kai" escaping your lips. He abused the spot, hitting it again and again, relishing how you moaned his name over and over like a mantra.

"That's it, baby, moan for me," he whispered in your ear, his other hand coming up to play with your hard nipples. You were a pleasure-filled mess under him, shaking and writhing.

You were close again, your walls squeezing Kai's fingers as your moans grew louder. Just as you were about to tip over the edge, Kai stopped, pulling his fingers out. A few tears slipped down your cheeks. "Kai, please," you begged.

"Don't you think it would be bad if you came all over my fingers? Can you even make yourself cum on your own fingers?" he taunted. You pouted and shook your head no.

"See, it wouldn't be masturbating then, and you'd be a slut," he said. Your back arched slightly, and your thighs squeezed shut at the word. Kai raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You wouldn't want to be some cheating slut now, would you?" You shook your head, your thighs rubbing together for some friction. Kai parted them. "Don't worry, darling. I have a toy for you to use, completely safe to cum on."

Your eyes brightened a bit at the mention of finally being able to cum. "Close your eyes, baby, and keep your legs spread."

You followed his instruction, too dumbed out to even realize that the toy he meant was his own cock. You felt the warmth of Kai towering over you as he slipped his "toy" in. It felt so warm and thick you almost started fucking yourself on it, but Kai stopped you. "Patience, lovely," he said.

Kai started slowly dragging the toy inside and out of you. It felt heavenly, better than any other toy you'd ever tried. You wanted to peek at what it looked like so you could get one, but when you opened your eyes, you saw Kai fucking into you and not a toy. You looked at him, worried, hoping he'd say more words to manipulate you, but he just smirked.

"Are you that dumb, baby, thinking you weren't a slut this whole time?" he said. You clenched at his words, and Kai let out a grunt.

"You're so easy, ready and willing to let another man inside you, moaning my name and begging me to make you cum." You almost cried at his mean words, but they made you so hot, so much more needy.

Kai's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more demanding. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through your body. You couldn't hold back the moans, each one louder than the last. "That's it, fucking slut. If you're gonna cheat, you should enjoy it," Kai murmured, his voice rough with desire. "You were so cute during the movie, I wanted to fuck you right there and then," he admits.

"Really?" You responds, eyes widening.

"Yeah," he continues, caressing your face. "Let me show how much"

Tears spilled from your eyes at the intense pleasure as Kai started sucking on your aching nipples. You were so close to the edge, every nerve in your body filled with pleasure. Kai's cock felt incredible, reaching places even your boyfriend hadn't. You knew you should stop him, that you shouldn't cum all over his cock, but you needed this—you were too fucked out to care about consequences now.

"Kai," you whimpered, your voice shaky and desperate. "I'm so close."

"I know, baby," he replied, his breath hot against your ear. "I can feel you. You're so tight around me. You enjoy being fucked by another man this much?" Those words, combined with the sensations, drove you wild.

"Beg for it," Kai said.

You easily obliged, "Please, I need it. It's been so long, please," your voice filled with need."What a slut? You didn't even hesitate" his tone was condescending, making you want to cum even more.

"Go ahead, cum all over my cock." A smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss. His pace became almost brutal, his hips slamming into yours with force.

Your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing as you came all over him. You cried out, and he continued to thrust through your climax. You were a panting mess underneath him, but he didn't stop, thrusting a few more times before reaching his own climax.

"Well, when I said take care of my girlfriend, I didn't think you'd take me so seriously," a voice says from the door.

Kai just calmly shrugs, pulling out of you. You look toward the door to see your boyfriend, Taehyun, leaning against it with an obvious hard-on."Tyun, how long have you been there?" you stammer, trying to cover yourself with a sheet, ashamed.

"So, you enjoyed it?" Taehyun asks, slowly making his way over to you. "I—well, I—" you stammer, unable to think straight, still coming down from your high.

"Mhm, I see. Maybe I should help you with your words," Taehyun says, taking off his jacket. "She's all yours," Kai says, grabbing his hoodie and leaving. "She always was," Taehyun adds before Kai exited.

[baby-dr1ver]

kinktober <3

food play

charles x reader

warnings: smut

Champagne. Fucking champagne. 

You’d mentioned one time, ONE TIME, that he looked good covered in the golden liquid, especially after a podium win. 

So now here you were, licking it off of him. It was his idea, letting you trickle some out onto his tummy, along his pecks, just to have you lick it off and make him impossibly hard. Every time you moved along his body spreading champagne everywhere, your lower half woud grind against him, making him moan your name. 

“Fuck- y/n please baby.” You hummed and swirled your tongue around his nipple, his hips jerking up. 

“Sorry Cha, got a little carried away huh?” Despite yuou putting him in this predicament, he smiles and hauls you up for a kiss. Your bodies lay on one another, sticky and reeking of alcohol, but you didn’t care. In fact, you had just the idea to make it all a little messier. 

“I’ll be right back.” You said as you got off of Charles, leaving him with a dumbfounded look. How could you just leave him here, hard as the tip of a mountain?

You came rushing back, clothes hanging half off your body, arm full of various bottles. You giggled as he sat up and looked at you with that confused look he always got (you know the one). “Amor…what is all of this?” he questioned. You laid out the whipped cream, chocolate and carmel sauce in front of him. 

“Uhm I thought maybe you’d like a turn in getting a little messy.” You looked at him shyly, watching him pick up the can in his big hands. You stood in front of him in only your panties, as he sprayed a small line of cream along your stomach. You gasped at the coldness of the sweet cream, not expecting him to start so soon. Charles leaned forward to lick up the substance before it dripped off your body. “Get on the bed, fuck sake get on the bed right now.” 

You scrambled to lay on your back, propping your head up with a pillow so you could see him work. He grabbed the chocolate sauce and started to make random patterns along your chest, purposely spreading it over your nippes. He drew his racing number, right about your naval and got to work cleaning you up. 

Your body was on overdrive, the feeling of his lips everywhere, sucking and licking at every part of you, damn near had you at the finishing line. As he got down to your pussy, he slid your panties off, and gliding his fingers through your sticky mess. Once he felt he was satisfied, he pulled away from your center and sucked his fingers clean. 

“Fuck, my sweet girl, so good.” He couldn’t stand it any longer, he had to be in you. He swiftly pulled down his shorts and stroked himself tenderly. He watched as you tried to lift your hips to get closer to him, lifting your legs to set over his thighs. He cooed as he gave in to your desprate attempts to get him to fuck you. He tapped the head of his cock against your clit, letting your body squirm. “Cha please! Wanna be-wanna be covered in you” 

Charles groaned and before he could have a second thought, pushed himself into you. He let out a string of french curses, along with your name. He started with a slow pace. Swiping more whipped cream in you. He took some on his fingers and brought them to your mouth, as soon as Charles felt the light suction of your fingers, his dick took over. 

Charles lifted your legs over his shoulders and positioned into you. “Pretty girl,” he kissed your calf. “so good for me, my girl.” He brought his hands up to play with your tits, feeling the stickiness of the whipped cream and chocolate sauce. 

By the way he was looking at you, and the way he touched your body-the way his tip hit your cervix with each thrust, you needed to cum. 

“Cha, I need to-fuck fuck please baby, need it.” he must have understood what you said because next thing you know, his fingers snuck down to your clit and you came. 

Despite that, Charles didn’t stop, he couldn’t. He felt your small hand over his tummy as you pushed him away, thinking that you were hurt, immediately pulled out of you. 

“Baby, are you alright? Did i-” before he could finish his sentence, you had your hand wrapped around his cock. Your thumb swiped over his tip with intent. “Cum for me Cha, cover me in your cum.” You whined and stroked him faster and faster until he just couldn’t take it anymore. He came over your stomach with a loud moan of your name, the whole building had to of heard. 

He was still coming down, panting hard, as you scooped up some of his cum on your fingers and slipped them into your mouth. The look of that alone had Charles grabbing the cream for round two.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hey! I really love ur work ^^

Let's just say...for example kazutora,hanma,miley,draken and kisaki are married and has a daughter blah blah blah..

How would he react if they're daughter showed them a drawing of themselves? No pressure though,take ur time👍🏻💜

Thanks! Like their daughter did a drawing of them? Sure, this is how that probably goes!

Kazutora-

"You drew a picture of me?"

He's getting a little emotional over it, no matter what it looks like he's just a bit touched to have a picture drawn of him.

Praises his daughter a lot for it, telling her that she's a great artist (he remembers how his own dad was with him and tries to do the opposite to him).

He keeps the picture in his wallet for years, refusing to take it out.

Hanma-

"That's me????"

Doesn't recognise it as him at first but once he's told a big grin breaks out on his face. 

Tries to mimic the drawing by making his hair messier as well as other things. He'll make sure he looks more like it.

Also takes a few pictures of it to send to his partner. Sends one to Kisaki too and brags to him that he got a cool drawing of himself. 

Mikey-

"You want one back?"

Mikey is not only happy with his own drawing but also thinks that kinda looks like fun. Besides it's good drawing etiquette to give one back right????

Spends ages on his but his daughter (who keeps on giggling because she finds this very funny) keeps shaking her head at them.

His partner comes home to find the two of them sitting on the floor drawing together. 

Draken-

"For me?"

He's so proud of his daughter!

Thinks she's done a great job and keeps telling her so. He's very happy that she chose to draw him of all people too.

Happily hangs it up on the fridge for everyone in the house to see.

Kisaki-

"......"

Spends a good few seconds wordlessly looking at the picture, taking it all in.

Bends down to give his daughter a hug to say thank you for it. He never thought he would be this lucky to have such a loving daughter, as well as his partner (who he shows immediately when they get home)

Hangs it up in his office 

[blueathn]

Obligatory coffee shop au art

Close-ups and ramblings under the cut because I spent waaay too long on this

Welcome to my brain soup.

Disclaimer, I didn’t really plan this piece and just kept adding concepts as I went, so it’s kind of all over the place. It’s more a big patchwork of dumb ideas I got excited over, rather than a well thought-out drawing, but I like it as it is! It feels like my brain did when I was reading htn :]

1. The whole concept behind this is just "Vintage coffee ad but make it the griddlehark coffee shop au". I was aiming for cheerful but also not quite right, in a very stock photo kind of way if that makes sense. Gideon is smiling but she is not a willing participant in this. Also that coffee is cold.

I - very predictably - took inspiration from Leyendecker’s work, since his ads and posters are the first that come to my mind when I think "vintage ad", and also because I do feel like his painting technique is close to how I naturally paint. This is not meant to be a study of his style tho, I didn’t try to break it down on more than a very superficial level.

2. 3. Nothing special to say, just Gideon’s arms (her perfect biceps are hidden from view lest they cause a riot in the cafeteria). Also arm hair. I feel like it’s becoming a recurring feature in my art lol

4. I debated whether or not to add a foam skull on the coffee then ultimately decided against it. That’s one skull too many, and honestly Gideon neither has the skill nor the patience to attempt one. Let’s be real, if they let her have access to the pitcher she’d make tits. So here is your tits-free coffee, courtesy of the Cohort photoshop editors.

5. Isaac, sporting the Fourth’s blue not only in dress but also in his questionnable choice of eye makeup. They have matching haircut only so Jeanne can showcase how much better it looks on her.

6. This is where I finally have something clever-ish to say. Thoughts ! I have them ! Sometimes. So. Harrow. You can’t see it but she has a nose piercing as well - this is relevant to spreading my agenda that Harrow is full of bone (piercings, that is). Sue me, I forgot that they let her keep her face paint in this scene. Onto the actual thought process.

This is where Abigail interrupts the scene, before Harrow can catch a glimpse of barista!Gideon. Her interruption is shown by the unfinished look of this panel : the sketch lines peeking through (in a reddish hue, to mimic sanguine, the red chalk that artists used to draw sketches and studies - and also because the contrast of the colors makes it pop better against her skin) + the rendering is messier from the neck and down.

Abigail is blocking half of Harrow from view - I wanted to have her hide Harrow’s eyes and thus line of sight entirely, but I feared Harrow wouldn’t be as recognizable with more than half her face hidden, frowny eyebrows and all.

Abigail herself is meant to look out of place here, without taking too much attention away from Gideon. I drew her in a much simpler style, using a more monochromatic palette and cell shading, to contrast against the rest of the gang, where I used a lot more color variation and a more detailed & textured painting style.

That’s about all I have on this, if you got this far thank you! Your support is much appreciated. If you liked this drawing I’d be overjoyed if you reblogged it and left your thoughts in the tags/notes! I’m always happy when I read them, even just a "#nice" makes my day.

[unnamed-axolotl]

HAAANDSS I've always prided myself on being able to draw them so HERES A FUN LITTLE THINGY I DID!!! Tried to get a good variety of hands here. With the humans, ranging from young child to older child to adult, plus a couple of skin tones and features. Then with the animatronics, what the difference is between a harshly-put-together robot vs. an actually well-put-together animatronic.

(AND AS A BONUS their handwriting and how I think they'd draw smilies!!!!)

HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT, written in the order I drew them in, not the order they appear.

I started with Michael. I was originally going to make him a lot more worn out, but just kept it simple probably for the sake of my sanity. A good few scars from the stuff he's went through. He probably has rather good handwriting because he's had a lot of practice both with legal documents and probably journaling. (Not really taking into account the Logbook here. It totally wasn't because I don't know what his handwriting looks like off the top of my head and was too lazy to get out of bed and get the book to reference.) He does a pretty generic smiley face, too.

Cassie was next. I don't really draw human hands with fingernails a lot so that was a challenge. The idea here was to make a hand that was that of an older kid, but obviously not as big or with fingers as long as Michael's are, for example. I played with her skin tone for a little bit, and I'm not too experienced with working in color, so please do let me know if there's anything I can improve upon when I do darker skin tones in the future! I was trying to get that lighter tone on her underhand but wasn't too positive about it. I also gave her some funky little bracelets, one of which is a direct copy of a bracelet that my lovely friend (@masquayla-the-splendid) for me. Cassie probably has fairly decent handwriting and definitely dots her i's with hearts when she writes her name. She tries to make the smiley faces look cute.

Evan's turn! I headcanon Evan to be much younger, so I made his hands smaller and stubbier. He's pretty pale because of the whole dying thing, and he's got some freckles and moles, sort of inspired by my own hand in a way! I've got little moles everywhere so I figured I'd incorporate that into his design, partly as a way to add more flair to an otherwise plain base. Other than that, not much going on here. He's got messier handwriting because he's a kid, and in my AU he didn't really get to go to school for all that long, so his siblings probably taught him how to write before he died. The brain damage probably doesn't help much either. He's trying his best.

For Sun and Moon, initially I couldn't decide which one of the two to color. As I was making the base I was thinking pretty hard about it, but ultimately figured out that I could probably just split it down the middle, and it worked! I've been trying to give the Daycare Attendants longer fingers to reflect how their hands look in the games. I couldn't make their hands too big because it either looked stupid to me or took up too much space, so I settled with this. I also gave them little scratches on their fingerpads. Sun and Moon have different signatures, with Moon's being a little more neat while Sun's is more fun and just a tad messier. He also overdecorates a bit. Moon stays simple with his smiley faces and Sun loves to express Big Happiness in his.

Ennard's hands (particularly their wrists where their wires tangle together like that) never look the same twice when I draw them, but I like to think the placement of their wires probably changes fairly frequently too, like a Double Rex Rat who has a new coat pattern every few days. Their wires have tarnished over time, but they try to maintain just a little bit of glint, despite the rusting, which is particularly noticeable in the spots where their fingertips brush against things most often. They've also got those little stray wires that poke out of each fingertip. Of course, holding any kind of writing utensil with those Big Meaty Claws has gotta be difficult, so even if they try their hardest, it's not gonna turn out great. Same with their smiley faces. They're doing their best.

[cherienymphe]

When The Party’s Over IX (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, forbidden relationship, violence, semi public sex, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, forced pregnancy, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

~

You cried out when Bunny held the wet rag to your face, Cam reminding you once again to hold your head back. Your vision was still spinning, head pounding, and the loud music of the party wasn’t helping. Your hands shook and against your will, every time you blinked, your eyes watered more.

“This…isn’t going to be pretty,” Bunny murmured, rewetting the rag with cold water.

“You think?” Cam commented, wiping anymore leftover blood from under your nose. “Rafe elbowed her right in the face.”

If you weren’t in so much pain, you’d scold them both for talking about you like you weren’t even here. There was a pounding on the bathroom door, and somehow you knew exactly who it was. Your eyes closed as Cam cracked the door, and her tone only confirmed your suspicions.

“What do you want?”

“Let me see her,” Rafe hissed. “I wanna make sure she’s okay.”

“So, now you care?”

“Cam-.”

“When she was trying to pull you off of that guy, you got her right in the face and you just kept fighting,” she spat at him.

“I didn’t know,” your boyfriend snarled back, apparently out of patience as he just pushed his way into the small bathroom. “Move.”

Bunny nastily eyed him, and you sniffed, taking the rag from her.

“Guys, it’s fine,” you finally said, and Cam’s gaze met yours. “Can you just give us a minute?”

Neither of them looked the happiest at that, and you sighed.

“It was an accident, and he’s just trying to make sure I’m alright.”

With a roll of her eyes, Cam eventually relented, Bunny reluctantly following and closing the door behind her. As soon as they were gone, Rafe reached for your face, and you turned your head away.

“Let me see,” he murmured.

“Rafe, it hurts.”

The words came out in a harsher tone than you’d meant, and his fingers brushed along your jaw.

“Please,” he whispered, his own tone pleading.

Past the anger of how this night had turned out, you accepted that Rafe felt bad, and you didn’t have the energy to punish him for an accident. You looked at him, and you watched the way his face fell at the way the area between your nose and cheek was already bruising. A little bit more blood dripped from your nostril, and he hurried to grab more tissue.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Fuck indeed.”

His blue gaze met your eyes again at that, and his brows drew together.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been fighting, you know.”

Rafe pressed his lips together, but you couldn’t hold your tongue.

“The guy didn’t even do anything-.”

“He was hitting on you,” he argued, voice hardening, and you sighed.

“Even if he was, that warrants a fight? You think he’s going to be the only guy in the world who might try and hit on me? What, are you going to fight them all?”

“Even if he was? What, you don’t believe me or something? You don’t think he was?” Rafe questioned, a deep frown on his features as he leaned in.

Not wanting to go back and forth about details, you lifted your hands.

“If you think he was, then that’s all that matters, okay?” you sighed. “…but my point is that you can’t just go around starting fights because of that.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, and you noticed some bruising of his own. It was shocking, really, considering he’d been laying into the guy without so much as sparing him a second. His blond hair was messier than usual, and you grimaced at the small stains of blood on his baby blue shirt.

“Why did you even get in it? I didn’t even know it was you trying to stop me, so of course I wasn’t paying attention to who I was pushing away,” he angrily questioned, gesturing towards the door.

“I’m not going to explain myself for not wanting you to get in serious trouble,” you threw back, and Rafe pursed his lips, looking away. “You can’t just go around fighting everyone because you feel like it.”

Pain was flaring in your face now, and you briefly touched your cheek with the rag before tossing it into the sink. Your eyes watered again, but this time for a whole other reason.

“Do you know what this is going to look like tomorrow? How much makeup I’m going to need?”

Rafe dropped his head into his hands, exhaling.

“I know, okay?” he quietly said. “I’m sorry.”

“Pope is already on my ass about my neck,” you sneered, and Rafe slowly lifted his head at that, completely unaware that your brother knew. “If he sees this, you’ll be lucky if I can even step into my front yard.”

Rafe waved his hand, slowly straightening with a frown.

“Woah, woah. Pope saw your neck?” he continued when you nodded. “…and…and I’m just hearing this now because…?”

“…because I didn’t want it to turn into whatever this is about to be,” you whispered. “He was furious. JJ too.”

Rafe’s eyes glinted at that, and he tilted his head. You could see the gears in his head turning, and Rafe leaned against the wall, staring at you.

“Am I safe to assume this was at your house?”

“JJ was with Pope, Rafe,” you sighed, understanding where his mind was headed. “Pope was just looking for something in my room, and JJ was waiting before he got tired of waiting.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you took note of the fact that your face was bruising as you spoke, but meanwhile, you were explaining the reason for JJ’s presence in your house just so Rafe wouldn’t work himself up again. There was a part of you that saw how wrong that was.

“I can’t sit in my house with pounds of makeup on at all times. I shouldn’t have to,” you loudly added.

He pushed himself away from the wall, approaching you and gently reaching for your face. His thumb was softly brushing over your skin, and you couldn’t help the way you flinched.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

“I told you that violence isn’t a normal thing in my life,” you quietly reminded him, and his eyes fell closed. “…and not even just that, but you know how much it scares me to see you like that.”

He nodded, and you continued.

“Not just for your safety, but just in general. It scares me, Rafe.”

“I know-.”

“You say that, but then you go and get into fights,” you pointed out. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Rafe looked towards the ceiling, and you watched him swipe his tongue between his lips.

“So, why do you feel the need to defend something that isn’t going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” was all he eventually came up with.

You reached up to grab his hands, softly asking him to look at you. When he did, his blue eyes were glassy, and your heart clenched. You reminded yourself that what happened was an accident, another accident, and you tried to calm your nerves.

“Please, promise me that you’ll work on this…because I…”

You swallowed, choosing your words carefully.

“This isn’t how I imagined our relationship to be.”

You had his full attention, now.

“This isn’t what I want it to be,” you whispered. “…and I want to be with you, but I don’t want to be worrying over your safety or wondering if another party is going to bring another brawl because some guy looked at me for longer than two seconds.”

Rafe’s face was taut, and he just stared at you, processing your words.

“What are you saying?” he slowly asked.

Your shoulders sagged, and Rafe took a step towards you, hands tightening on yours.

“Rafe, you know what I’m saying.”

The blond swallowed, licking his lip before briefly glancing away. When his eyes met yours again, his frown had deepened.

“So…I defend my girlfriend from creepy guys…and you threaten to leave me?”

“I’m not threatening anything. I’m telling you that this isn’t what I want. Rafe, I don’t want to go anywhere-.”

“So, don’t!”

“So, don’t make me!”

You two stared at each other, frowning, and you tried to make Rafe see where you were coming from. You threaded your fingers through his.

“I like being with you,” you honestly told him, and that seemed to placate him some. “I don’t want anyone else, so, who cares about how some guy looks at me? You’re the only guy I see.”

Rafe studied your face, blond hair hanging into his own, and he stepped closer. When he pressed his lips to yours, you reluctantly kissed him back, wincing a bit with every movement in your face. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, and he heaved a sigh.

“I know you only have eyes for me,” he softly relented. “I know that, but… I feel like you don’t see yourself clearly, beautiful.”

You felt your face heat up at the nickname, and Rafe smiled, brushing his lips over yours again.

“You don’t see how many guys are just waiting for you to give them the opportunity, and because they don’t know I exist…”

He trailed off, and again, you felt guilt eat away at you. You felt Rafe’s heavy gaze on you, and you knew his mind had gone where yours currently was.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

“I’m sorry too,” you told him. “I know this being a secret isn’t easy on you, and…I have to realize that it’s making you more tense than usual.”

Rafe seemed calmer, now, and he wrapped his arm around you, the other reaching for the rag in the sink before wetting it with more cold water. Rafe brushed his lips over your cheek before bringing the cool cloth to your skin.

“Hey, hey! Where are you going?”

You slowed to a stop, thankful that anyone milling around in the yard was too drunk to care about why you and Rafe were arguing like some couple. You resisted the urge to sigh, folding your arms over your chest.

“I’m going home, Rafe.”

You wouldn’t look at him, but you could feel his gaze on you.

“Home,” he repeated. “So…what…? You’re just going to walk there?”

“If I must,” you said with a shrug.

That was apparently enough to run up what little patience he had left. Rafe’s hands found your arms, and he forced you to face him. There was a deep frown on his face, and as you stared into his eyes, your heart sank with disappointment at how blown his pupils were.

“What’s your problem?” he finally asked, and you scoffed.

“You’re kind of ruining my night, so I’d just rather go home,” you murmured, shaking out of his hold.

Rafe followed you when you made to leave the yard.

“Hey! Talk to me. Don’t just walk away-.”

“You’ve made it clear that talking isn’t going to do anything,” you said, pausing to look at him. “You’re more of an action kind of guy, so I figured I’d just leave.”

You could see Rafe getting more irritated, and you didn’t have much of the heart to care.

“I can’t enjoy my night when you’re staring down any guy who comes within two feet of me, Rafe…”

He was nodding before you even finished, a sarcastic smile on his pink lips.

“Hell, you can’t even enjoy yourself because you’re too busy wondering who I’m talking to and what I’m talking to them about and what they might say to me-.”

“I…I’m sorry for caring about my girlfriend, I guess,” he cut you off, fingers brushing his chest. “Guess that’s my bad for giving a fuck.”

This time you did sigh, rolling your eyes, and you heard Rafe scoff.

“You know this wouldn’t even be a problem if you just told Pope about us. Unless…”

Your gaze met his, and he raised a perfect brow at you.

“Unless Pope isn’t the only one you’re afraid of telling.”

You frowned, lips parting in shock.

“What?” you voiced your exact thoughts.

Rafe shrugged.

“Can you blame me for thinking maybe this isn’t just about Pope?”

“Rafe-.”

“What am I supposed to think when you practically trip over yourself to make sure even strangers don’t know about us?”

“…because it could get back to Pope! This is a small island, Rafe!”

“You sure you’re not just ashamed of me?”

Your stomach dropped at that, and any anger you felt seemed to dissipate as you processed his words.

“Rafe…”

“I’m a screw up. Everyone knows it,” he forced out, and you watched his jaw clench. “…and you… You have this perfect reputation, and you can go to any college you want when you decide to and…”

“Rafe… Rafe! S-stop,” you finally said, stumbling towards him. “I could never be ashamed of you.”

“Well, that’s what it’s starting to feel like!”

He lightly smacked your hands away when you reached for him.

“You know how much Pope means to me,” you slowly said.

“More than me?”

You faltered at that, hating that glassy look in his gaze, and you glanced away.

“Just because you can barely stand to be around Sarah…”

“You’re hurting me to spare his feelings,” he pointed out, and you closed your eyes. “You get that, right?”

“I know,” you quietly agreed.

“He’s not the one fucking you,” he sneered, and you frowned in disgust. “He’s not the one looking out for you when creeps get that light in their eyes.”

You rubbed your temple.

“He’s not going to be the one paying for your tuition when you finally decide to go.”

You froze at that, hands dropping in shock as you stared at him with wide eyes. Rafe said it so casually, like he hadn’t just mentioned shelling out thousands of dollars to help you with whatever college you chose. Rafe didn’t even seem to realize the effect his words had on you.

“What…?”

He finally stopped to look at you, and he laughed—actually laughed at the look on your face.

“Well, of course, I am. You know I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled, and you released a shaky breath, in disbelief at how this night had gone. “That’s why it sucks so much, you know?”

He sniffed.

“…because I’m…I’m ready to give you the world, and you can’t even tell your brother about us.”

Your gaze found the ground at that.

“I’m sorry.”

Rafe chuckled, and when you looked at him again, there was a bitter grin on his face.

“…and that’s all she has to say,” he mused, throwing his arms up.

You blinked back tears, and Rafe scoffed.

“You know…if I wasn’t a better man…I’d kiss you for everyone to see.”

Your eyes widened at not just his words, but the venom in his tone.

“I wouldn’t give a fuck about showing everyone on this island who you belong to…”

He slowly walked towards you, a deep sneer on his face as he stared you down. You swallowed as he looked you over, and you reminded yourself that Rafe was high, that he wasn’t in his right mind.

“Least of all, your brother and his Pogue friends,” you didn’t like the way he said that. “What exactly is stopping me from fucking the shit out of you in your own house and making sure everyone hears what I do to you when they aren’t looking?”

You pushed at Rafe’s chest, turning away when his hand snatched your wrist with a quickness, yanking you back towards him.

“Huh?”

His face was almost touching yours, and when you pushed at his chest with your other hand, he grabbed that one too, holding you to him.

“It sure would make my life a whole lot easier,” he whispered.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you choked out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry- God! Is that all you can say?”

You leaned away from him.

“How about I’ll do better, Rafe? I’ll try to remember how hard this is for you?”

You tried to pull your wrists out of his hold, but Rafe only tightened his grip, pressing his forehead to yours.

“How about a timeframe? Hm? Give me something, so I can know when to expect to happily treat my girlfriend like my girlfriend,” he wondered.

“Rafe, you are hurting me-.”

“…and you’re hurting me!”

His breathing was deep, heavy, and his coked out eyes looked between yours. You watched the way his lips trembled when he pressed them together, and he took a deep breath, finally letting you go. You held your wrists to you, keeping your eyes on him as he reached up, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually choked out. “I’m sorry.”

You wanted to say it was okay, but it wasn’t. You swallowed, rubbing your wrists and glancing around. The party was two houses over, and you and Rafe were just…arguing in the street. You shuddered at the cool ocean breeze, and when Rafe dropped his arms, his somber eyes were focused on you.

“I’m sorry,” he softly repeated, reaching for you now. “Let me…let me take you home.”

You bit your lip.

“I really wanted to walk-.”

“I’m not-!”

He cut himself off, hands balling into fists as he swung them at his side. He roughly exhaled, calming himself down.

“I’m not letting you walk from here,” he told you, tilting his head. “Y/N, please. Let me take you home.”

The truth was you really didn’t want to walk anywhere. You’d just been angry, and it seemed silly to cut off your nose just to spite your face as your mom would say.

“You’re…high,” you finally said.

“I’ll drive slow,” he said like it was the most obvious solution in the world, throwing his hands up.

You knew that you shouldn’t get in his truck. You knew that you needed to have another serious talk about his drug habits, especially if said habits were going to result in nights like this. You knew that your conversation resolved nothing but really just highlighted more problems instead. You knew all of this, but you were mentally exhausted, and your face was starting to hurt again, and now your wrists too.

You just wanted to get home, take something, and get to sleep…so you grabbed Rafe’s outstretched hand and let him lead you to his truck.

“You okay?”

You could feel Pope’s eyes on you for the past three minutes while you fixed yourself something to eat, so his question didn’t exactly come as a surprise. You quickly washed your knife, drying it and putting it away.

“Never better. Why?”

You looked at him, and he was staring at you strangely. Specifically, your face, and for a split second, you worried that you weren’t wearing enough concealer, but then he shook his head.

“You just seem…more quiet than usual,” he pointed out.

You avoided his eye, reaching for your sandwich with a shrug.

“Just tired, Pope.”

You brushed by him, and you thought to yourself that it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were tired, among other things, and you just happened to keep those other things to yourself. When you opened your door, you almost dropped your plate in shock, a small shriek leaving you before you swallowed it down. You heard Pope calling your name, and you were quick to slip inside and close your door.

Rafe was sitting on your bed without a care in the world.

“Hey, you okay?” Pope asked through the door.

“Yeah,” you told him. “I just hit my foot.”

He grumbled something that you couldn’t make out, and you set your plate down before hurrying towards your window.

“Don’t worry, I parked down the street,” Rafe said as you peeked outside, shutting the window.

“What are you doing here?” you wondered, facing him.

After that night you’d had sex in your room, you didn’t make it a habit of having him over. As great as it had been, you didn’t exactly want a repeat. It was too risky. Rafe was standing, now, moving towards you, and instead of answering your question, he just kissed you. You slowly kissed him back, still wondering why he was here.

“I wanted to check on you,” he finally said when he pulled away.

“Oh,” you said, unconsciously touching your wrist.

The movement caught Rafe’s eye, and he gently took one, heaving a sigh as he brushed his finger over it. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was clearly struggling to voice whatever was on his mind. When he brought your arm up, he gently kissed the inside of your wrist, and you couldn’t fight your small smile.

“I don’t like getting like that.”

Your face fell, eyes softening as his gaze met yours.

“I don’t,” he sighed, pulling away and sitting back down. “…but when I feel like you don’t care about this relationship as much as I do…it hurts.”

Your heart sank, and your gaze found the floor interesting all of a sudden as you shifted on your feet.

“Yeah, no, I get it,” you softly replied.

“I just feel like it doesn’t drive you crazy that we have to hide. That I can’t even hold your hand in public or take you to that ice cream shop you like or happily tell some asshole that you’re mine-.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

You were staring at each other, now, and you glanced away.

“How would you feel if some girl was always trying to hit on me? Or making eyes at me? You’d hate it.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell Rafe that he was Rafe Cameron, and so girls were always making eyes at him. It couldn’t be helped, especially since they thought he was single, but you didn’t make that his problem.

“I just feel like the only one who cares.”

“You know that’s not true,” you argued, moving towards him. “You don’t think it would be easier on me too if everyone knew?”

He gave you a look.

“Yeah, it would be hard at first dealing with Pope, but eventually…I think he would get over it. It’s that part that I dread, Rafe,” you told him. “The part where Pope looks at me like I completely betrayed him and then he doesn’t look at me at all for…months.”

“You’d have me,” Rafe murmured in response, and you swallowed a sigh.

“I actually like my brother, Rafe. Of course, you don’t get it.”

You moved towards your desk, proceeding to remove your makeup.

“I don’t want him to hate me,” you whispered.

You heard Rafe move after a while, coming closer, and your eyes met his in the mirror as he knelt behind you. He took your makeup wipe from you, and you let him, watching as he finished removing it for you. Both of you reacted to the nasty bruise that spread from your face to your cheek, you with a quiet sigh and Rafe with a troubled glint in his gaze.

When you turned to look at him, he swallowed, reaching out and letting his fingers just hover over the darker patch of skin. You closed your eyes when he leaned in to gently kiss your cheek, his other hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and you nodded.

“I know,” you told him with a small smile. “It was an accident. You didn’t know it was me.”

You watched him stand before sitting on your desk.

“I shouldn’t have been fighting, anyway.”

“No,” you lightly said, shaking your head. “You shouldn’t have.”

Rafe gave a light chuckle at that, and when his eyes met yours, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a small crooked smile.

“I see the way they look at you…and I just lose it,” he confessed. “One minute you’re there and the next it’s like you aren’t with me anymore and some chump is taking my place.”

You reached for his hand, frowning.

“I know you won’t leave me…but I can’t help but let my mind run wild.”

Rafe rubbed his forehead, exhaling.

“I’ll try to work on that…I promise,” he assured you.

You looked down, never realizing how insecure Rafe was. It made your heart hurt because he had no reason to be, and you didn’t know how to make him see that you weren’t going anywhere. That there was no reason to worry every time some guy so much as looked at you. You only wanted him, and you didn’t think that could be any more obvious.

“Stay,” you whispered, and he lifted his gaze. “Please.”

You bit your lip.

“Everyone’s asleep, and I want you to stay.”

Rafe grabbed your sandwich, holding it to your lips, and he watched as you took a bite.

“I shouldn’t…”

You frowned at that, and you worried that Rafe was still a little upset. You stood, standing between his legs, and your gaze was pleading as it held his. You slowly leaned in, pressing your lips to his, and Rafe, eager as always, kissed you back. You fully leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and when you pulled back, Rafe reached up to brush his thumb down your lips.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me,” you quietly offered. “How much you don’t have to worry about me leaving you.”

Rafe held your gaze for a while, and eventually, he stood. You walked backwards, taking him with you, and you smiled when he leaned in to kiss you again.

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: Don’t know how this college will show up on tumblr, so let’s see. This is an old, old idea that I got one day after I drew all over my arm in eyeliner when I was in class. It was actually really pretty, and thus the idea for this was born. Due to my ADHD it’s hard to focus in class, and because of that I need some sort of stimulation to make my brain think. This was written with an attention disorder in mind for the reader.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader

Location: Marvel > Natasha Romanoff > Oneshots

Warnings: None, just a small drabble with fluff

Words: 900ish

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~~

“We need to move in from this direction instead and then we can carry them out.” Bucky voiced from his place against the wall. 

I didn’t bother to follow the conversation, as this was the fourth time that they’ve been over editing the plan even when the first plan was perfect. 

I inwardly groaned and leaned my head back, moving my arms and stretching. Enjoying the feel of my back popping. The debate about how we were to get in was still going, and I ended up digging through my jacket pockets. Damn, I had a fidget in here this morning…

Still tuning everyone out, I found an eyeliner pen. Wait, wasn’t I looking for that yesterday?

You have got to be kidding me. I was. My habit, or rather, unconscious habit of losing things wasn’t fun. I misplaced things often enough to where I kept trackers on several items I used daily. Everyone idolizes having an attention disorder until you realize just how fucking shitty it is.

Seriously, I can’t get through the day without misplacing something. Or caffeine. Both. 

I ran a hand through my hair, tucking it behind my ears as I pulled the cap off the pen. It was one of the oil-based ones, which meant it was easy to clean off of skin. Laying my hand on the table I started sketching some bones on my fingers, then moved to my hand. Keeping tabs on the conversation, I finished my hand and moved to my arm. Instead of bones I just drew swirls, some small stars, and honestly whatever came to mind. I did the same with my other hand, albeit a bit messier because it wasn’t my dominant hand that was doing the drawing.

“We’re done with this for now. Let’s go over this tomorrow.” Steve said as he clapped his hands together, and shut off the screen. I glanced up only to meet Natasha’s eyes. As soon as she caught my gaze she smiled. I smiled back at her.

Everyone in the tower knew I had an attention disorder, and if just given my fidgets I would be fine. It turns out both of the scientists and I share that in common, and more often than not we were inventing some sort of new fidget toy. Of course, after the lighter-knife-spinner combination, we were a bit limited on our creations. Still, we got along great.

Everyone slowly got up and headed out to wherever they would be going, and I pulled out my phone and earbuds. Donning my jacket and tugging my phone in a pocket, I started my music and headed out, headless of Natasha calling after me.

I got to my floor and immediately shoved my shoes and socks off, along with my jacket and pants. I was bored enough that the thought of doodling over my legs sounded entertaining enough that I discarded my pants as well, kicking them over the back of the couch and flopping down onto it. I grabbed the remote and started from where I left off of (Favorite show) and went back to work. Eventually my feet were covered, and I moved up to my calves, then my knees, and soon enough my entire legs were covered. I drew up my arms as best I could, and fixed my hands. 

“So, this was the result?” Natasha’s voice scared the shit out of me, causing a huge streak of eyeliner to mess up my doodles on my arms. I turned towards her, mouth open in shock. She huffed a laugh and went around the couch, sitting down next to me.

She held out her hand. “May I?” She asked. I handed her the pencil and she gently took my arm, and continued my drawing up my arm and onto my shoulder, before lightly drawing them on my neck, and eventually my cheek. 

“These are really pretty...have you considered getting these tattooed?” She asked me as she switched sides and started working on my other arm. 

“I have, but I also realized that I’d want them different as soon as I saw them.” I replied. 

“That makes sense. You typically don’t like things to be permanent, they always need to be changing.” 

“Yeah, some permanent things. Such as tattoos, furniture, clothes. I change those often. But people however...they’re always changing.” 

“Ah, so in relationships you wouldn’t be deterred if someone wanted something permanent with you?” She questioned, tracing the pencil up my neck and onto my cheek, leaning closer to me. 

“No, I wouldn’t. I prefer that type of stability in my life.” I whispered as she leaned closer to me. 

“Do you want something permanent?” 

“I do.” I leaned closer and closed the gap between us.

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

This is not prepared at all, so it's likely going to be messier than usual, but I was in the shower earlier thinking about the Golden Girls (as one does) and I drew a couple of conclusions on the topic of how many children does Blanche actually have? that I wanted to share with you all.

So, first of all, let me sum up the controversy. The issue lies with one of Blanche's statements in S3E3 Bringing Up Baby, when she's trying to convince Dorothy to keep the Mercedes she bought with the money they'll supposedly get after Baby's death:

"I want that car, Dorothy. I will give you anything. [...] I'll give you one of my sons. I have given this a lot of thought. I have had four kids, I have never had a Mercedes."

Ok, everything tracks so far. Blanche has had four kids, some of which are sons. We meet her two daughters, Janet and Rebecca, a few times during the series, so the natural conclusion is that Blanche has four kids, two sons and two daughters.

Which is great, except... her next line in S3E3 is this:

"What do you say? Which one do you want? Biff, Doug, Skippy? No, don't take Skippy, he's got asthma."

She names a Biff, a Doug, and a Skippy, so... three sons. Which, in addition to the two daughters we see in the show, makes for a grand total of five kids. Huh.

Alright, we know that Blanche wasn't the best mother ever, but I find it hard to believe that she forgot how many children she has, so: what's going on here? The obvious explanation is, as always, that this is a continuity error (although it's a really egregious one!), but you folks know I prefer to find a Watsonian explanation wherever I can, so let's see if we can figure out anything interesting.

One thing that struck me when I first realized this discrepancy is her use of the words 'I have had four kids'. Not I have, I have had. Why does she use the past tense here? The sentence flows better with it, but it doesn't make a lot of sense in-universe -- unless you think that she's using 'to have a child' to mean 'to bear a child'. If that's the case, then what she's saying translates to 'I have physically given birth to four kids, I have never had a Mercedes.'

I'm sure I don't have to point out the implications of this, do I? If the number of kids Blanche has given birth to is four, but her total number of kids is five, then that means that one of her kids is not hers in the strictly physical sense, i.e. one of Blanche's kids is adopted. This would solve the discrepancy without breaking the canon elsewhere (as far as I can tell, at least).

For a while, this idea remained in the back of my head to examine at a later date, because it still has a number of issues to work through. For one, why would Blanche (and supposedly George) adopt a child? They had kids of their own apparently without any issues -- why adopt another child, instead of, well... making another child, if they wanted one more? I guess it's possible that fertility issues might have arisen at some point, but that seems unlikely for a number of reasons; that kind of problem is generally genetic in nature, and it tends to be diagnosed upon first try, not after four successful pregnancies. So, then... why?

I was stuck on this point for a long while, until I suddenly remembered this conversation between Blanche and Virginia, her younger sister, during S5E11 Ebb Tide:

"I remember when you were 16 and didn't come home for Father's Day." "I was away at school!" "Oh, yes. The Good Samaritan Academy for the Knocked-Up. Two, four, six, eight, all us girls are three months late."

It seems Virginia got into a spot of trouble when she was 16, and was away 'at school' for a while to take care of it. While this might imply that she was sent away to have an abortion, there's also space to hypothesize that she was sent away to carry her pregnancy to term and actually have a baby to then give out to adoption. If this is the case... I wonder if this baby is the one that Blanche and George adopted?

While an adoption seems a bit out of character for young!Blanche (to me, at least: she wasn't interested in her kids, why would she agree to adopt another one?), I think there's some space to consider it. For one, George might have convinced her! We don't know enough about the man to draw clear conclusions, but he did send money to the one child he had out of matrimony (see S5E18 An Illegitimate Concern), so maybe he feels more responsible towards kids near him than Blanche did -- and, well, if he'd asked, Blanche would have agreed immediately, of course. I feel like Big Daddy might have also played a part in this scenario: he could have wanted to keep the child in the family (a Hollingsworth is still a Hollingsworth!), and asked the youngest married couple among his children to take on the responsibility, to shield Virginia from the shame.

Note that this theory has a few issues anyway. For one, while Virginia is Blanche's junior, according to Wikipedia she's only one year her junior, which would put Blanche at 17 when all this happened -- and we know she met and married George much later, when she was already a university student (see S6E9 Mrs George Devereaux). However, I can't find any confirmation for this difference in age in the show itself, so I feel like the hypothesis still deserves some consideration.

As for which of Blanche's children is adopted, well... we can for sure rule out the boys, since she mentions them all by name in S3E3. This leaves her two daughters, Janet and Rebecca. All throughout the series Blanche has a rocky and painful relationship with Janet, even more than she has with the rest of her children:

I would love to have a chance to raise David. I might make up for the mess I made with Janet. [S1E6 On Golden Girls]

Well, honey, I really do want to see you. I think we have a lot to talk about, Janet. I've been thinking a lot about you, lately. [S2E16 And Then There Was One]

"I just talked to my daughter, Janet, and she and my granddaughter, Sarah, are coming to visit in a couple of days. Oh, I've never been so happy!" "Janet? Isn't she the daughter who hates you?" "[...] She doesn't really hate me, Sophia. We just don't see eye to eye." [S7E23 Home Again, Rose: Part 1]

As for Rebecca, while we know they stopped talking for a few years due to a disagreement, she seems remarkably closer to her:

We were always so much alike, and so close, just like Siamese twins. [...] I have missed her. She's always been my favourite. [S3E14 Blanche's Little Girl]

Although Rebecca herself seems to have a different perception on their relationship:

You're not happy, Mama. You're doing it again, you're telling me how to live! [...] Nothing's ever enough for you. I had to be the prettiest, I had to be the most popular, I had to be the brightest... [S3E14 Blanche's Little Girl]

I think there's two possible theories here, neither of which paints Blanche in a good light (but hey, we love these characters because of their qualities as well as their faults, don't we?). If Janet is the child she adopted, I think it's possible she might have been especially neglectful towards her (especially in her first few years); she might have taken her frustration with being convinced to adopt her out on her, as a lack of affection when compared to her other kids. This would explain why the relationship between them is so fraught (certain wounds last a lifetime, I'm afraid).

If Rebecca is the child she adopted, on the other hand, she might have wanted to overcompensate for her abandonment and sort of one-up Virginia ('see, how well I can take care of your daughter? aren't I the better mom?'). She might have showered her with affection (and with expectations, judging from what Rebecca says!) to the detriment of her other kids, which would explain the issues in her relationship with Janet as well.

I don't know. It's obviously very clear that, for all her faults, Blanche adores her children and is deeply pained by her mistakes as a mother; she often expresses regret for her actions and wishes she'd been a better mother:

I realized, too late, that I'd put myself ahead of my children. I've never made up all the time I didn't spend with them. [...] deep down, I wish you were really mine. So I could try again with what I now know. [S2E16 And Then There Was One]

For all that might have happened in the past, it's evident that Blanche loves all her children equally and considers all of them her own, so she's clearly gotten over any issues she might have had -- but that doesn't excuse her past actions, of course.

There's a whole lot that could be said about Blanche's approach to motherhood, how it connects to the way her parents treated her as a child and to her own internal issues, but as for the question of how many children she has, I feel like this is a satisfying possible answer. It's not airtight by any means, and I'm sure there's other ways to explain the discrepancy (they might have adopted a child from George's side of the family, for one, which would change a lot of dynamics); this is just the one that occurred to me. As always, I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts, so do let me know your ideas about all this!

[faraway-sunshine]

Meet Whoever's In My Head #1: Haru

Derived from an old nickname my grandmother used to give me based on my middle name, Haru is my oldest friend besides Mari.

I typed a lot, so information on backstory and why I drew him like this is under the cut.

(Saturday 16th September, 2000, 8:26 PM)

Backstory

When I was little, I don't remember much, but I know I had meningitis. There was an outbreak at my kindergarten, and I got it really bad (this was before I moved to Faraway, by the way). Because of how dangerous it is and how fast it spreads, I was pretty much in isolation in the hospital. According to doctors, I had bad fevers and other symptoms that meant it was a miracle that I pulled through.

My only real memories were missing Mari, seeing crayoned pictures in my room being hung up, and a nurse who felt bad for me and read comic books out loud.

I guess one of the comic books had something about cloning, so I later invented this kind of story that I was actually a clone and my original copy had died of the sickness and that's why I couldn't remember, because it wasn't actually me who went through it. It fit with how I was, as my dad said, "not really the same after". It also fits with how the next time I saw my grandma, who was old and confused, she kept asking for "Haru" and denying I was her grandson.

Later on, I felt Haru's presence whenever I was lonely or screwed up or did something bad. When most prayed to God, I tried to talk with him to figure out what was wrong, what they screwed up when I was cloned, what I was doing that made my family look so worried and sad sometimes in comparison to how they saw Mari.

It got to the point where my memory would black out sometimes, and whenever I described the blackouts to Mari she said she could tell because I seemed almost a different person, seemingly brighter and more out-there and weirdly clingy with my parents (who I was very distant from after being sick) and not seeming to know my friends as well as I should. It scared me at first, but then I extended my prayers sometimes to wanting Haru to take control more, as he seemed to get the "good son" act that I never could.

Although I was sick when I was four, Haru part-grew, part-didn't with me. Like, his face and voice and stuff was still like me as a kid, but he got taller and his intellect mostly kept up. But some "babyish" habits that I abandoned after my sickness, like thumb sucking, persisted as when Haru was there Mom and Dad would find it endearing and wistful seeing me act like I did when I was "happier" (I don't know if I was actually happier, or just better at showing it with them). He also is more likely to see things very black-and-white and stand his ground on odd opinions, and his handwriting and drawing is a lot messier.

He hadn't fronted properly for a while in the time leading up to Mari, but I could feel him in the back and understand some of his thoughts and emotions and what he wanted and liked in comparison to myself. But after Mari died, and once Dad left and Mom was working all the time again, Haru was almost entirely silent. And I felt worse because I remembered the old baby story I told myself and felt I had "failed" at my "purpose" and should have just never been "created" (even as I knew that it can't have been real). Maybe I locked him away deep in my mind to protect him from all these big scary things that were already like that for me, I don't know.

He's slowly emerging back, carefully, as things settle and I figure out how to be a functional human again, but the collapse of the status quo leaves him wondering if he even has a place now in whatever ecosystem my mind is. And if he recognizes us as being at a hospital, doctor's office or similar location he usually darts right away and leaves me or whoever else picks up after wondering why we feel all stressed and scared and sad and alone.

Haru isn't a big fan of scary things or science fiction, unlike how I like comic books and cartoons. His favorite book is Paddington Bear, and every time he sees a train station he makes sure to look for any bears with name tags just in case.

Design

Haru's one of the only ones allowed color in my head. He exudes a sense of innocence, but at the same time, he's trapped in my early childhood in the way that he affects me. I drew him in pajamas both times because in a way, he never left the hospital properly.

The stuffed animal is a weird cat plush with a tail but no proper legs that was a baby toy of mine. It was thrown out at the hospital at some point.

Also, the red line represents the life support he was on. In that first dump, the red stand was some sort of solution. The red here is meant to stand out against the colder, softer color pallet I used for the rest of him. He gets a hospital bracelet too.

His pajamas are a bit too big for him, as hospital issue during a meningitis outbreak in his age group. He's also usually quite tired. That's the only trace of his sickness that he has, though, as I don't remember the rest.

[thegreymoon]

I am really not the target demographic for Red, White and Royal Blue and honestly, the entire premise sounds dumb af from where I'm sitting, but all the gifs that crossed my dash looked hilarious and that main actor is beyond gorgeous, so I am going to give it a shot tonight. My expectations are so low, that unless this movie gets a shovel and starts digging, there is no chance it cannot exceed them. I am so ready to eat my words, just give me some pretty people, mindless fluff and basic comedy and I will be happy, I swear!

***

TWO FUCKING HOURS?

You guys, I'm going to be honest here, I don't think I have it in me to sit through this 😭😭

***

LOL, only a younger brother 🤣🤣 They did not have the guts to go all in and make him the heir to the throne.

Also, lol @ "Prince of England's hearts" but even more so at "whom all the world adores" 🤣🤣 I cannot. I am absolutely not the target demographic for this and I don't think I have it in me to just go along with this, fictional British royal family or not. Who speaks like this? Who even believes it?

Anyway. Abolish the monarchy, Guillotine them all. Long live the glorious revolution!

***

LMFAO 🤣🤣

Well, at least he looks equally disgusted.

If we can't off the royal family, how about we just off this news announcer? Because I am getting so much second-hand embarrassment.

***

LMAO, OK, he gets ONE point 🤣🤣

OK, fine, two points, because he is stupid beautiful and the reason I sat down to watch this in the first place 😤

***

Yassss, girlfriend has great taste!

I'm two minutes in and so far, she's my favourite. I would totally watch a two-hour movie of her touring London and giving commentary on the yumminess of various guys she encounters.

***

LMAO, is he going to get hammered and smash the obscene 75-thousand-pound cake? 🤣🤣

Because why else would they mention that price point and also show the cake in all its humongous 8-tier glory 🤣🤣

Here for the diplomatic incident, ngl, I would totally read the shit out of that in the tabloids the next day 🤣🤣

***

NOOOOO, THE CAKE IS RIGHT BEHIND THEM!

THEY WILL TOTALLY TOPPLE THAT CAKE!

***

Okay, I am laughing 🤣🤣

***

SCREAMING 🤣🤣

I saw it coming from a mile away, but goddamn, it DELIVERED! 🤣🤣

***

I can't stop laughing 🤣🤣

Watching this was such a good decision 🤣🤣

***

LOL, if this was a real-life event, I would spend a week gleefully reblogging it on Tumblr, no lie 🤣🤣

Also, it is a 9-TIER CAKE, not 8 🤣🤣 The more, the messier!

***

LMFAO 🤣🤣

Also, OMG! Uma Thurman! 😍 It's been a hundred years since I watched her in anything!

***

"Sunshine of my heart" 🤣🤣

This movie is hilarious 🤣🤣

***

Wait, Sarah Shahi??

I loved her in Life! I also watched Fairly Legal for her and thought she was stunning in The L Word! I'm forever bitter we never got to see that Nancy Drew adaptation with her in the main role 😕

***

The thing that is the most difficult for me to suspend my disbelief for is the idea that these two overly privileged young men involved in their countries' respective politics are actually nice people.

I keep chanting to myself, "You are not here for realism! You are not here for realism! YOU ARE NOT HERE FOR REALISM!"

To varying levels of success 😕

***

Romantic comedies are so not my genre. And I am so not here for ex-boyfriends or whatever this guy is.

I need Alex and Henry to get back together ASAP and start smashing cakes again because I'm starting to get bored.

***

These are gutter-level jokes.

Seriously, they couldn't get more creative?

***

They have the most basic taste in literature ever. It doesn't even feel authentic, more like what a nineteen-year-old girl thinks good taste in literature should look like.

***

I feel like I am extremely uncharitable towards this movie (the cake thing was funny tho) but it is very hard to take their bland flirting, pedestrian romance and pathetic humour seriously when you're coming into this from 2ha 😕 The standards that have been set are on another planet compared to what we are being given here.

***

Please 😭

And smash another cake, otherwise I don't know how I'm going to make it through another hour-and-a-half of this 😭😭

***

The things I will watch for pretty people 😭

He truly is stupid beautiful and makes this thing infinitely more watchable every time he's on screen.

***

I'm with Henry on this one, this party is like something straight out of my worst nightmares and crushing on the tall, hot guy seems like the only tolerable thing in this whole hellscape.

***

Aww, baby, he is not having a good time.

He wants to kiss him for New Year's too!

***

LOL.

Well. That escalated 🤣🤣

***

NOOOOO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STARING AFTER HIM?

RUN AFTER HIM AND TELL HIM IT'S OK AND THAT YOU SHOULD CONTINUE SOMEWHERE BEHIND CLOSED DOORS!!

***

And some women! 👀

She's my favourite character in this thing, lol, followed closely by Sarah Shahi and Uma Thurman. And then Prince Henry 😅

***

This guy stands no chance to the level that it's embarrassing he still keeps trying.

I almost feel sorry for him, but I kinda have the feeling that he's going to be the one to out Alex and Henry, so my sympathy is very shallow. Just know when you've lost, my man, and MOVE ON.

[petrichoremojis]

IDs in alt

Some system roles! You could see I was starting to hurt more as I got to these, they're somewhat messier

The first three are nightwatcher. Then protector, then caretaker, steward, charge, hydrator, medic, and hygienist

The caretaker one is based on a type of doll in our system, so it's a little personalised. I don't know why charge is like that, I was just going through our physical sketchbook and digitalising symbol sketches we did, and another headmate drew that sketch

[eeriedragone]

PETER LUKAS, Avatar of the Lonely

In the DE x TMA crossover for me he would replace Joice Messier, not personality-wise though. Someone correctly said that Annabelle is more like Joyce rather than Evrart in the way that she acts, so that would be a more apt comparison, to which I say: u right. I just never explained from where I drew my own connections:

Joyce & Peter = On a boat, part of rich circles

Evrart & Annabelle = Office setting (I just really want to give Annabelle a spiderweb as a chair), they got a proper web (haha) of people

But it's all very flimsy, I'm not trying to have 1 to 1 swaps