#wanted to draw a couple of other things for this au before posting but oh well

[crintsiewintsey]

miscellaneous drawings including my silly little au with disabled peppino where everything is exactly the same but he kicks ass and runs people over in his wheelchair that i love so very much

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Tip Your Driver

Week #15 Prompt: Modern AU | Word Count: 4115 | Rating: T | POV: Steve | Characters: Steve, Eddie, Wayne, Robin | Relationships: Steddie, Platonic Stobin | CW: Language, Non-Explicit Mentions of Sex | Tags: Modern Setting AU, Delivery Driver Steve, Rock Star Eddie, Meet Cute, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

Of all the shitty service jobs Steve's had, this one is definitely among the worst.

And he's been stuck working some pretty shitty jobs over the years, both before and after they moved out here. If he hadn't hated the one at the shoe store so much, because ew feet, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place. At least that was in one location, a steady paycheck, and not that far from their apartment. But, he didn't know that feet draw in some weirdos, so here he is, lugging other people's shit around, because he needs the money.

He just sighs as he pulls up in front of the address on the app. He double checks the posted numbers over the garage, and it seems to be the right place. Everything matches enough for him to call it good.

The house is really nice.

It's not in The Hills or anything, so he hadn't expected something so nice.

Now, Steve doesn't mind delivering groceries, not really, but this guy, Eddie it says, ordered a bunch of heavy shit, and the tip was only the mediocre bare minimum. Which, he wasn't that mad about, until right now, after he's seen the house this guy lives in. 

No, now he's pretty annoyed.

Whatever. Par for the fucking course from Fancy Pants Rich McGee over here. How the hell you spell chauffeur? Chauffeur. Indeed. Maybe he should make tiktoks about situations just like this. Robin keeps hounding him, saying if he'd just do it, that he could rake in a little extra cash. 

He's skeptical. 

Steve looks back at the house. 

Oh well. He left his money behind for a reason, the only thing he kept was his car because his parents were dumb enough to put it in his name. And honestly? It does him no good to be jealous or whatever the fuck he's feeling right now.

At least this guy had been responsive, and pretty nice, when answering Steve's messages about substitutions and out of stock items. Not everybody is, unfortunately, acting as if Steve is the one stocking the store himself.

Steve opens the back hatch of his car, and leans in to grab the first items to be left at the door, as requested. If they don't see you, they feel less bad about the shitty tip, Steve's learned.

But it's fine. Steve doesn't want to deal with anyone face-to-face today, anyway. Because he needs to hurry. He and Robin are already a couple days late on rent, and he's gotta try to make up the difference today. If not, they're gonna be fucking screwed. Why is this city so goddamn expensive to live in? It's bullshit.

"Let me help," comes the voice right next to him, and Steve jumps, hitting his head on the open hatch door.

Now, he's skipped over annoyed and has been vaulted straight into pissed off. 

Partly at himself for being so far in his own head that he didn't even hear this guy approaching, but mainly at this asshole for even being in his personal space in the first place. He needs to take about three big steps back.

"Oh, fuck! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" the guy shouts, and Steve hasn't even seen this asshole yet, but he knows he hates him. 

"Most people don't help unload the car," Steve snaps, turning to look at him, and the guy is looking back at him with big, big brown eyes. Robin would call them doe eyes, without a doubt. Well, fuck. Fine. Steve softens his tone, "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting you."

"Sorry," Eddie says again, still too close. "I'm Eddie. I ordered the groceries. Can I help? Please?"

Steve nods, and lets him reach in and grab his own case of water, while Steve picks up a few of the sacks. It's the least the guy can do, now that he's given him a headache. Literally.

Steve carries the sacks towards the porch, and leans over to put them down.

"Just come on in," Eddie says, and the door swings open, banging against the rubber doorstop on the wall.

"Don't bang the door!" comes the yell from the other room, and Steve peers into the house and sees an older guy sitting in a lift chair, with a walker in front of him.

"It's my door, old man, I'll bang it if I want to!" Eddie yells back, but there's no heat there. Steve can hear the teasing affection in his voice, and Steve can't help but smile.

"Don't come crying to me when there's a hole in your wall. Can you patch drywall? Because I can't right now," the guy, probably Eddie's dad the way they're bickering, snaps.

Eddie ignores the question from his dad.

"C'mon, this way," Eddie says, looking over his shoulder at Steve, as Steve lingers on the step. 

Well, no. That's not. You don't go in stranger's houses. It's, like, rule one. And just good common sense. Which apparently Steve has none of, because he does follow Eddie into the house. 

Robin will kill him, if this Eddie dude doesn't kill him first. 

Steve puts the bags down on the counter, and heads back out to make another trip, Eddie following, "That's my uncle. He's just crotchety that he had to have his broken hip replaced, and now he's dependent on me for the near future."

Steve laughs, "Well, maybe don't bang the door and he won't be crotchety."

"You heard me. It's my door," Eddie says, smiling wide. He's pretty, very pretty. Long, dark hair tied up on top of his head, and heavy tattoos all along his arms, creeping up onto his neck.

He's honestly gorgeous. 

Steve wonders if he's famous. He doesn't look familiar, but he looks like he could be famous. And his house is pretty fucking nice. This is L.A. Everybody is somehow famous in L.A. Except for Steve and Robin. They are definitely not famous.

Unless he's a tech bro? But he doesn't really look the type.

Either way, famous or not, Steve smiles back, can't not, not when he looks like that, then asks, teasing him, "Well do you know how to patch drywall?" 

"Fuck no. But I could hire someone to fix it if the door knob somehow gets through the stopper."

"Well, at least you have a plan," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

"He just hates the city. Hates my house. Hates everything. Except me. He loves me," Eddie says, as he grabs a case of Gatorade in one hand and the case of pork and beans in the other.

That's a lot of beans. 

"That's a lot of beans," Steve says aloud, even if he doesn't mean to, even if he knows better than to comment on other people's groceries. 

But Eddie laughs. "Tell me about it. Man likes what he likes, though. There's no changing him now." 

Steve nods, grabbing another handful himself. It's nice that Eddie is taking care of his uncle.

"I'm not usually home much, hence all the groceries being ordered at once. Sorry about that. The cabinets were pretty bare, and I just didn't want to leave him home alone. He's still a fall risk, even if he keeps insisting he's not."

"That's okay, I understand. Big orders are more common than you'd think," Steve says, stepping back into the house that he's probably not going to get murdered in, thankfully.

Big orders are common, he's not lying about that, and more often than not, the tips offered for shopping hundreds of items, are less than you'd think. So, this order wasn't even out of the ordinary. Not really. That's why Steve took it. Some pay was better than none, especially today, that's for sure.

"Still. I'm grateful. You saved my ass today, man," Eddie answers. 

"Well, it's my job," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

They finish bringing everything in, and Steve nods at Eddie, "Okay. I think that does it."

"Here," Eddie says, and plucks an envelope off the counter, "I always worry that your tips in the app will get eaten up by the corporate assholes taking their cut off the top. So. Cash is king."

Steve takes the envelope. A tip he doesn't have to report? Why thank you, Eddie. 

"Thank you. You didn't have to do this, or help bring it in, you know? But I appreciate both."

Eddie smiles, "Thank you for getting all that shit for us. We both appreciate it. Don't we Wayne?"

Wayne grumbles, but Steve's pretty sure he doesn't appreciate anything right now. He knows he wouldn't either, if he had broken his hip.

They say their goodbyes, and that's that. Steve will never see Eddie with the pretty eyes ever again.

At the next red light, Steve opens the envelope, expecting an extra ten or twenty bucks, maybe, but is shocked to see that there are three, insanely crisp one hundred dollar bills inside. 

Holy shit. 

That's way more than he usually makes in a single day. Two days, even. Just by delivering one order that he didn't think was gonna pay well at all.

And he got to look at a hot dude for a minute or two. 

It's enough to cover what they were short on the rent, even. It might not have felt like a lot of money to Eddie, if he handed it over so readily, but it feels life-changing to Steve, right now. He remembers when three hundred bucks wasn't anything to him either, back when he had access to all his parents' money and all their unhappiness.

Now, it's different. 

Robin's gonna shit.

Hot damn.

Thank you, Eddie.

"Booyah," Steve says, slapping the envelope on the counter. 

Robin picks it up, and thumbs through it. It has Eddie's tip, and the few extra bucks he picked up during the rest of the day. 

"Oh my god, no way! Where did you get this much cash, dingus? Are you turning tricks on the side now?" Robin asks, and Steve laughs. 

"Yes. I thought I'd see what I could get for this ass," Steve says, turning and pushing his ass outwards in her direction. 

She doesn't even look, but says, "Honestly, you might be worth more than this, as much as I hate to admit it," she comments dryly, and he smiles. 

"No, some rich dude that ordered a bunch of heavy shit gave me a big tip," Steve explains.

"That's what she said," Robin teases, and her eyes are still wide as she looks at the bills in her hand, "Seriously, though. Thank you, rich, old dude," Robin says. 

"Rich, but not old. I think he might have been famous in some way. YouTuber? Musician? I don't know. Nice house." 

"Well. Describe him. Let's Google him," Robin says, wiggling her fingers in the air like she's stretching before this big task she's about to undertake.

Steve isn't sure searching for him is gonna work, but he lets her try, "Eddie. Probably a little older than us. Lots of tattoos." 

"Was it Eddie Vedder? Please tell me you know who Eddie Vedder is, dingus?" 

He knows who Eddie Vedder is, Jesus. 

He gives her a look, "Not that old. And he was heavily tattooed. Is Eddie Vedder tattooed? Plus, this guy had dark eyes. Really dark. And no flannel." 

She keeps looking on her phone, showing him options, "Him?" 

No. 

"Him?" 

No. 

"Him?" 

"No. Not him." None of them are. Nobody she shows him is the same guy. So, he thinks of all the famous Eddies he knows of. 

"Was it Eddie Van Halen?" Steve asks. 

"Since he's dead, probably not," Robin says. 

"Oh," Steve says. He didn't remember that. And he'd be too old, anyway. "We're looking for someone that looks kinda like young Eddie Van Halen. But with tattoos."

"You're obsessed with the tattoos. Was it Ed Sheeran? He has lots of tattoos," Robin asks, and he rolls his eyes. 

"Robin. I think I know what Ed Sheeran looks like. This man was not ginger. Dark hair, dark eyes. And he was American. Maybe this guy is just rich? Not famous at all. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again, anyway. We'll just thank him from afar for saving our asses today." 

Robin sighs heavily, and puts her phone down, "If you'd got yourself a rich boyfriend we'd have it made all the time." 

"Well, I'll work on that," he says sarcastically. 

At least for now, they can pay another month's rent. That's a big win. Huge.

Maybe they can keep their heads above water, now.

And they do, by some sort of miracle. It was only three hundred bucks, but that was enough of a windfall to get them back in the black. And somehow they've stayed ahead since, for nearly two whole months. They haven't been this stable financially since they arrived in town.

Today, Steve flips through the different apps he drives for, trying to decide what order to take, when he sees a huge pizza order. The order is absurdly big, but the tip is decent, and picking up a stack of pizzas is infinitely easier than shopping a whole-ass grocery list. Steve's just seriously questioning if it'll all fit in his car.

He's gonna risk it.

Luckily, it does, but there are pizza boxes piled high in every seat and the rear. He definitely doesn't have hot bags for all of them. Hopefully he doesn't get caught in traffic.

The area seems familiar, but when Steve pulls up in front of the house, he knows why. Eddie. Only, the last time it was groceries, not food, that he delivered here. 

There are vehicles everywhere. Clearly some sort of party, Steve thinks, to require this amount of pizza. And as soon as Steve steps out of the car, Eddie is out of the house, being trailed by three other, mostly leather-clad, guys. It'd look threatening, if Eddie wasn't smiling so big.

"Steve! When I saw Steve was my driver, I was like, maybe? But Steve's a common name, and there was no picture, so I didn't get my hopes up, but hey! It is you!" Eddie shouts, moving to the back of the car, "Watch your head this time, sweetheart," Eddie adds, and Steve is sure he's blushing. 

He just stands there kind of dumbly, watching as Eddie commandeers his order right out of Steve's vehicle. Eddie's definitely unusual. 

Eddie hands stack after stack of pizzas to the waiting guys, making them carry the bulk of it. And Steve watches as they ferry them off towards the house, Steve not having to even lift a finger this time. 

Now, it's just him and Eddie standing on the curb. 

Eddie holds out an envelope, and Steve looks at it.

"Man, thank you, but you tipped so well last time, you really don't have to again."

"I want to. You provide a service, I want to pay for that service," Eddie says, shaking the envelope, and Steve reluctantly takes it. Whatever is inside, will really help him and Robin stay ahead. It did last time. He's not really in a position to say no, even as well as they are doing at the moment.

"Thank you, truly," Steve says, tucking it into his pocket, "How's your Uncle Wayne's hip?"

Eddie smiles, so fucking wide, "You remembered! He's good. Great. Headed home soon, which I'm certain he's thrilled about. He's definitely never coming here again. I'll have to go home when I want to see him."

Steve laughs, "Glad to hear he's better, if annoyed."

"Do you want to stay?" Eddie asks, "We're having a little going away party for him. The more the merrier. Or, is your shift not over? You could come back?"

Steve doesn't have a shift, he can clock in and out to take orders as he pleases, and right now he'd really like to accept Eddie's offer. Even if it's probably just Eddie being polite. A pity ask, if you will.

"You don't have to invite your delivery driver into your house, you know? I could be a murderer."

"Unlikely," Eddie says, "and I'm not inviting my delivery driver. I'm inviting you, Steve."

Steve thinks over the options, and then nods. He can go in for a bit. If he's uncomfortable, he can get right back on the clock, no harm, no foul.

"Okay, let me park," Steve says, and he does just that. Putting the envelope of cash into the glove box without opening it. He doesn't want Eddie to see him scrounging through it. That feels tacky.

The pizza boxes are already open on every available flat surface in the kitchen and living room, and Eddie shoves a paper plate into Steve's hands, "Eat. Drink. Be merry."

Steve nods, and grabs a slice from the nearest box. He's not picky.

The house is full of people, and a lot of them seem vaguely famous. Like this is an industry thing, instead of a going away party for an old man with a newly not-broken hip.

Steve's worked enough of these events. They tried the catering thing for a while, and it was fine, for Steve anyway. Robin was just a little too clumsy to carry trays of dainty hors d'oeuvres around rooms filled with beautiful women in expensive dresses.

This isn't any of that though. This is cases of beer being chilled in kiddie pools, and dozens of pizzas. Fancy house, but not a fancy party. Steve spots Eddie's uncle sitting by himself on a couch, a beer resting on his knee and a paper plate of pizza on the arm rest.

Nobody else is sitting by him, so Steve goes over, "Can I sit?"

Wayne grumbles something that could be yes, could be no, Steve's not wholly sure, but he chooses to go ahead and sit down beside him.

"How's your hip?" Steve asks.

"Who are you?" Wayne asks, looking at him, suspicious.

"Steve. Uh, a delivery driver? I've brought a couple orders to you guys now. And Eddie invited me to stay."

Wayne nods, and goes back to his plate, "Hip's fine. Ready to go home."

"Where's home?" Steve asks, and he's not sure why. Clearly this man has no interest in making small talk with him.

"Indiana," Wayne says. 

"Hey! For me, too. Small world."

"What're you doing in California, then?" Wayne asks. "Trying to get into show biz?"

"No. No way," Steve laughs, "Not for me. Uh, my best friend? Robin? She wanted to move out here. Wanted an adventure. And I wanted her to be happy. So. Here we are."

Wayne nods.

"Did you break your hip in Indiana and Eddie dragged you all the way out here?" Steve asks.

"No," Wayne answers, "I came to visit him and broke my hip before I got out of the airport. This is why I don't take vacations."

Steve smiles, "That's bad luck. Sorry."

Wayne nods his head, and Steve assumes that's the end of this conversation, and they sit in silence for a few moments.

"You're Steve? The one that brought the groceries a few weeks ago?" Wayne asks.

"That's me," Steve confirms.

"He's been talking about you non-stop. I was like, just order more groceries. So, he tried. It was never you. Now we have more food than he'll ever eat. Probably need to take it to the food pantry."

Steve grins, looking down at his plate. He isn't sure what Eddie would want to see him for. They definitely aren't on the same level.

Eddie is across the room, talking wildly with his hands.

"He's a good kid," Wayne says, quietly, "All this? Not him. Not all of him, anyway."

Steve looks back at Wayne, "What do you mean?"

"All this fancy shit. I'm proud of him that their music has done so well. But he's a good kid. And he just wants to be happy."

"Don't we all," Steve says.

"People take advantage. If you're here for the money, for the fame. Just. Move on. Eddie would give it to you. But he wants something more. Needs it, I think."

Steve thinks he could be something more. But he doesn't really have anything to offer Eddie in return, and maybe heeding Wayne's warning wouldn't be such a bad idea. What business does he have getting involved with a famous musician? None. 

"Got it," Steve says. "Well, I'm glad your hip healed."

Wayne grumbles at that, and it makes Steve smile.

Steve puts his trash in the can, and looks around. The hallways are lined with platinum records, news articles, and he leans close to read the name. Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin. He's never heard of them. He'll have to look them up on Spotify. 

He doesn't belong here. 

He takes one last look at Eddie. 

Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin.

He tries to memorize his name, his band, so he can tell Robin later, solving their little mystery.

And then he ducks out of the front door, walking down the long driveway towards his car. 

"Hey, Steve! Wait!" Eddie yells from behind him, and Steve slows. 

"Hey, man. Thanks for having me," Steve says, turning to look at him.

"You're leaving already?"

Steve nods, "Work, you know."

Eddie nods, "Okay. Well. Come back. Anytime."

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, because he's pretty sure Eddie means that, "Enjoy your party. I'm glad Wayne's hip is good as new."

Steve turns to keep walking.

"Steve. Uh," Eddie says, and Steve considers pretending he didn't hear him. It'd be easy. The music is loud, probably pissing off the neighbors, but Eddie keeps talking. "Listen. I like you. Yeah, I know. I barely know you. But. We got good vibes, man. Can you not feel that?" Eddie asks, and when Steve turns to look back at him, he sees that Eddie's hands are shoved deep into his pockets. 

He looks nervous.

He's famous, clearly rich, and beautiful. He could have anyone he wants. But he looks nervous talking to Steve. Who delivered the pizza. Make it make sense. Goddamn. 

"Eddie," Steve says.

"Do you not feel it? If you don't, I'll leave you alone. I swear. But if you do…"

Steve nods, "I do. But I'm a delivery driver. I live in a tiny apartment that I share with my best friend. We barely make ends meet. You could have anyone. Why would you want me?"

"Because I like you," Eddie says, "and I want to get to know you. I didn't grow up with anything either. I'm not old money. I'm new money. Brand new. So. I'm not that out of touch yet."

Steve smiles. He's old money, he just doesn't have access to it anymore. Eddie's new money, and doesn't know how to handle it. They'd be quite the pair.

Eddie keeps talking, trying to wheedle a date out of him, "Just. Let me take you out. Just us. Let's see if there's anything here," he says, motioning his hand between the two of them.

Steve wants to, he really does. 

"Okay," Steve finally says, "nothing fancy. A normal date."

"We can definitely do that," Eddie says, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Let me give you my number."

Steve rattles off his number, Eddie texts him, and it buzzes against Steve's thigh. Already coming through, showing he's serious.

"Dinner? Movie? Bar? You name it," Eddie offers, eyes never leaving Steve's.

"Dinner's good. Nowhere fancy, though," Steve warns. 

"Do I look like I like fancy places?" Eddie asks, looking down at his own clothes.

And Steve's eyes cut back to the gorgeous house.

Eddie laughs, "Fair enough. But I don't."

"Can you go out in public? Or are you too famous?" Steve asks. "I'm not familiar with your band, sorry."

Eddie laughs, "I think I like that you aren't, sweetheart. That means that maybe you like me, just for me. And I can go out. Nobody cares about me all that much."

Steve nods. Alright. They can go on one date, and see how it goes. 

Well. That's how it goes.

Very, very well.

So well, that Steve's now satisfied and loose in Eddie's bed, when Eddie laughs, rolling into Steve's shoulder, face pressed to his skin. Lips kissing his shoulder, biting at him gently. Playing with him.

"What?" Steve asks, smiling as Eddie slides his hand into his, squeezing. "What's so funny."

"I tipped my driver," Eddie chokes out, laughing around each word, pressing his crotch into Steve's thigh.

Steve laughs, looking down at this ridiculous man clinging to him, "That you did. And damn well."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[icaruskeyartist]

Hey @pillowspace I've been promising some whump and this is going to be the start of it.

I don't know how many parts it'll be, but I suspect I'll be able to post one snippet every day or two and finish it out by the end of the week.

I hope I do it justice. I've been hyping it up in my head a whole lot, especially since I'm writing more comfort for the clone au than here.

This is loop five. You're pretty sure of that. Sun is a little suspicious of you, the distance between you and the attendant growing ever wider as you prove to be more capable with the kids than him or Moon. It's not his fault, you want to explain, but you know that will only make things worse.

So you try to ignore instinct, let the children fall and need Sun, but he's the face of the daycare and he's needed all the time, so it becomes pain for pain's sake, and that of a child too! You can't stand it, and you know if he were in your shoes, if either of them were, they'd understand.

You still don't like the day they bring the generators in --- other humans with help from some of the animatronics, Freddy and Bonnie always eager to give their coworkers a helping hand. You don't like it because it means Moon won't be out anymore.

"Can we put some tape down? I'm worried the kids will trip over the cables." You stand at Sun's side, both of you watching the generators get placed. You with a furrowed brow, Sun with his rays retracted nearly entirely into his faceplate.

"That might be for the best." The strain in his voice is upsetting, and you reach to touch his arm in sympathy. It surprises him, and he slowly places a hand over yours. "Thank you for helping with the children. It's been... Difficult lately."

I know, you don't say. There's no movement from him, no wit or joke in his voice. Even his touch is limp.

"We're all set!" Freddy's voice is as full of life as Sun's is void of it. He walks over, the ground trembling ever so slightly with every step. "Everything going all right Sunny?"

Sun's grip on you tightens, painfully so with flesh trapped between metal. "Of course! Moon is just having some malfunctioning code, so we are putting him on pause until he gets better." The strain is audible, but Freddy is far too polite to bring it up.

"It's a shame," he says instead, clapping a paw on Sun's shoulder. "He's always good for a tune and a prank. Let us know if you need anything Sunny."

"Of course," Sun replies, but he's drowned out by Bonnie hop-jogging over to grab Freddy's arm.

"C'mon man. We got a set to practice with the girls. Chica's gonna murder us if we aren't on time."

"Ah right. See you Sun, Superstar." Freddy waves his goodbye, but you avoid looking at him. In a couple weeks, Freddy won't be the same. You wish you could warn them, but.

But instead, you watch as the two glamrocks leave, useless in comforting Sun, in saving Bonnie. Maybe if it wasn't for the fire... But you have to keep to your personal priorities right now, and you'd failed too many times already.

Sun signs, releasing you. "Let's get the daycare ready before the kids start showing up. Thank you for coming in early Starlight."

"It's not a problem Sun." You push as much love into your voice as possible. "If you get the art supplies and breakfast snacks ready, I can secure the electric cords."

"Oh of course. That's very smart." His rays remain retracted as he walks to the locked cabinets to prepare. You bum a roll of duct tape off a coworker and climb into the jungle gym, carefully taping the cables out of the way of little feet.

At least Sun brightened when the children started pouring in. You take over explaining the new naptime rules to the parents so he can fawn over the little ones, and the day passes quickly under the unforgiving glare of the lights.

You stay late to help clean, staking chairs out of the way to vacuum. Sun is humming as he pins the new drawings up, taking a few of the oldest ones down and stacking them neatly to the side.

"Will Moon get to come out after hours?" You ask, and Sun stops, arms full with little trays of crayons and markers. You notice there's a couple red hearts drawn on his cheek. Does he know about them?

"Oh, no. We aren't allowed to leave the daycare unless it's for maintenance, so he won't be coming out." Sun hands you the trays. "I'm going to take the old drawings up to our room. Can you finish things up down here?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." Even five loops in you're sticking your foot in your mouth. "Have a good night Sun."

"Thank you Starlight." He gathers the drawings, reaching up for the cord that he and Moon use to travel through the air. It descends and clips in place, and... He's gone.

It hurts to see him in pain like this. But, you will fix things this time. And Sun, very unintentionally, gave you the chance to do some after hours exploring.

✴️✴️✴️

Even better, it turns out the daycare's vacuum cleaner is broken, the always frayed cord finally snapped. Weird that you hadn't noticed this before, but then again, you have been busy every loop. You drag the vacuum out the side door to the manager 's office so it could be thrown out by someone with actual authority. It's quiet, the music playing to softly to muffle your footsteps or rattly old contraption dragging behind you. It shouldn't be easy to sneak up on you, and yet

"Who are you?" A woman's voice cuts through your thoughts, and you jump, giving an inarticulate yell and promptly tripping over yourself as you turn.

She's a security guard you realize, spotting the badge and pseudo-cop attire even as you're blinded by her flashlight. You squint and shield your eyes, clumsily getting back to your feet.

"I'm the daycare assistant." You fumble for your badge, clipped on the inside of your sweater to show. "I'm still cleaning up. Sun's having a bit of a stressful day and it's a lot slower without his help." You're over explaining but, ah well. You're still startled.

"You're not supposed to stay after hours." She checks her watch, and you can finally make out her face. She's pretty, young. Not exactly what you'd think of when you think overnight security guard. "It's late."

"I know." There's an edge of irritation slipping in, even as you gather the broken vacuum again. "I need to finish cleaning."

The guard watches you, and you're uncomfortably aware of her apparent lack of blinking, fiddling with the busted cord instead. "And the daycare attendant is refusing to help?"

"He's had a bad day," you say, openly defensive. "He deserves a break, so I'm taking care of things. It's fine. You can even watch if you want to make sure I'm not stealing anything."

She's still frowning at you, shaking her head. She holsters the flashlight, taking the vacuum from you. "You go on home. I'll make sure the daycare gets cleaned."

"But---" You grimace as her already disgruntled expression turns hostile. "Okay, all right. Can I at least get my stuff?"

She sighs but nods, dropping the vacuum. "Come on then. I need to escort you. Someone's been sneaking around in here after hours already."

Oh? "They have?" Could they have messed with Moon? "Why hasn't the day shift been informed?"

"Everyone important has."

You give up trying to talk, frustrated with her stoney silence. The daycare is lit like a beacon in the pizzeria, and when you enter you cut off to the side, digging your bag out of your cubby. You start to call up to Sun, but the guard is at your shoulder, still watching you in her unnerving way. You swallow instead, gesturing vaguely. "Well, that's it."

"Good. Let's go then." And she takes the lead, leaving you scrambling to catch up. There's no lingering or trying to take the long way around. She leads you directly to the atrium and even watches as you clock out.

"Well, thank you," you say, attempting one more smile. She's unmoved. "Um, have a good night?"

"In the future, if you can't get everything done by the end of your shift, telephone it into the security office," she says, escorting you to the nearest door.

"I will." And you're leaving, confused and frustrated. You turn around when the door locks behind you. The guard is already leaving, her ponytail bouncing with her long steps. Just in case, you try the door, but nope. It's locked.

"Fine then. I'll try again tomorrow," you tell the door, drawing a hand down your face. Hopefully she didn't bully Sun for trying to take a break. You've already decided you do not like her. But how have you missed her the past few loops? You're the only one who knows what's happening, so you should've run into her before. What's changed?

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A lot of replies! A bunch about a Florid Prison Warden AU comic from yesterday, a couple about other fandoms, one about antis, a bunch of shippy stuff (Falena/Leona, Lilia/Silver), some spicy stuff etc.

Anonymous asked:

Prison Warden au is back!

Yes!! After almost a year... I am amazed that so many people remember this AU. Thank you...

Anonymous asked:

How long can Floyd possibly hide Riddle in his cell? Also, how did he knock him out to begin with?

Riddle is currently far away from the prison, he was knocked out pretty much for the entirety of Floyd’s escape and has no idea where he is. He is technically in a cell right now... but in a different kind of cell.

Knocking him out wasn’t that difficult, Floyd just went ahead and squeezed him very tightly~ Until Goldfishie fell asleep...

Anonymous asked:

So what will they do to Riddle now?

Anonymous asked:

So Riddle got kidnapped after Floyd escape? Now I wonder what happened.

Well, for now Riddle will stay at an undisclosed location in the middle of nowhere in some dark room, and Floyd will have to take care of him. How the turns have tabled, eh? Now Goldfishie is the one being locked up <3 These two will have a lot of fun during Riddle’s stay! And Riddle is going to end up being traumatised for sure...

But they probably won’t be able to keep him there forever, so who knows what will happen next?

Anonymous asked:

You have made Sukufushi art before??? Omg why was I not aware of this

Hehe yes!! It was ages ago, but I used to draw these two a lot. We didn’t post the majority of my jjk sketches though because we didn’t really post very often back then + didn’t think anyone really wanted to see them, which was kind of true lol

Anonymous asked:

I'm the one who asked about Bobobo.  It's a very silly, nonsensical, random show.  An evil empire is trying to make everyone bald and a man fights them with his armpit and nose hair.  There's also a guy who fights with farts.  It's been awhile since I watched it but I think there were a few serious, dark moments, though most of it's a lead up to a joke.  I wondered if you and Katsu would like it cause the reason I watched Gintama was cause it reminded me of it and iirc you've Gintama

Oh god, so it’s this kind of show (in a good way)!

Dark and heavy moments that are a lead up to a joke is honestly one of my favourite ways to treat comedy+drama, this is why we love Gintama so much (and also Osomatsu-san and also South Park lol). Bobobo really does sound like it has this same vibe.

I don’t know if we’ll watch it anytime soon, but I’ll definitely keep it in mind. Thank you, Anon!

Anonymous asked:

Regarding the sneezing HCs, do you think Malleus will spit fire and roast everything in front of him when he sneezes? Bro has pretty bad control over his magic after all LMAO

YES. THIS IS SUCH A GOOD POINT AND I DIDN’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT.

Hoo boy, just imagine Malleus feeling like he is about to sneeze and Lilia running from the other side of the dorm to grab his nose because he knows it never ends well.

Anonymous asked:

About the response talking about antis, yeah it's hard for me to look for fics and fanart because I'll often run into antis...

I feel like part of it might be that they don't look at who a game is for or what genre it is apart from RPG/visual novel/ect, I don't think they know what joseimuke is (and I'm a still lil confused on the target audience of those as well, but I think it's mainly women with a disposable income?) and they think the target audience's age = casts' age, so since the cast is teens, then it's for teens by their logic...even though shows like South Park exist and I ain't showing that to a young kid.

I'd like to give them the benefit of the doubt that they genuinely think they're helping people/doing good things/ect since a lot of them aren't adults, but I can't.  I just can't get that impression from them at all.  The "nicest" I can be towards them is that they're young and dumb and will hopefully grow out of it or they need therapy but can't get it for some reason and this a kind of cry for help

Let’s be honest: if they weren’t dicks about it, no one would even care. We all understand that people don’t like some things, and all of us don’t like certain categories of people in our own fandoms, this is just a human experience. Minding your own business is what matters, and this is what they can’t do.

The majority of them are young and dumb, and a lot of them will grow out of it (or switch their aggression elsewhere because they’ll lost interest in fandom stuff) though. Some won’t, but there always are immature people that are much older... this is where they’re coming from lol

Maybe some of them really do believe that they’re doing the right thing and genuinely don’t know better, but I think for a lot of them finding a convincing enough reason to shit on others is the entire point of fandom experience. So even knowing what joseimuke is won’t stop them, only them losing interest and moving away from these spaces will.

All we can do is shrug and wait... and block people left and right lol

Anonymous asked:

What kind of hentais does Idia read or know of? Does he play eroges? If so what kind?

I think Idia knows every single hentai there is, even if he hadn’t read/watched/played all of them. Alright, maybe not every single one, but quite a lot lol But at the same time, he strikes me as someone who would be into it art-wise and would legit watch porn for the plot. So his favourite eroges are the ones with engaging stories and good character writing... I guess asking for that from a hentai game is a tall order, but Idia would argue and rant about some of his favourite titles if he was told “it’s just porn”. It’s not just porn, it’s an entire experience, the buildup that makes the porn good!

I know a part of me wants to say that he would play “oniichan” kinds of games, but I think he would ironically stay away from those... it feels weird to him somehow... too embarrassing.

He also doesn’t mind really fucked up tropes and scenarios. He could look at a tentacle hypnosis scene or a scene where someone is pushing out an alien egg and say “heh classic”. Truly, the greatest enjoyer of art.

Anonymous asked:

Hello! So I’ve been wondering of all the TWST tops, who’s winning the girth-and-length off?

Personally it could go either for Jack, Rook or Sebek. the Octatrio kind of cheats tho? their merform could pull these off easily.

anyway very curious to hear your thoughts!

Anon, this is such a good answer and I agree with you, even though I did write a post about peen sizes at some point, and I had a bit of a different top3 lol

To us, the winner is Lilia both because we are very committed to this joke + apparently for bats dick-to-body proportions are insane, so I guess there is some meat (heh) to this joke after all.

The second one was Floyd, and I still think the Tweels are one of the hugest, but... Jack and Sebek are absolutely up there, and I think they’ll grow bigger and girthier. They’ll become the biggest ones in a year or two.

I agree that Rook is big, but I think Trey is longer than Rook while still being quite girthy.

I am also 100% sure Yana has a list for this that we will never see...

Anonymous asked:

Firstly, I’m new to your blog and I LOVE YOUR ART AND HCS SO MUCH! They’re beautiful and amazing and it’s incredible seeing a blog being so unabashedly problematic with no shame!

That aside, I’m not sure if you ever talked about him before, but what do you think about Falena. Specifically for Falena/Leona?

I’ve seen some works (all super incredible, of course) of Faleleo stuff in Leona’s perspective, so I was wondering how do you think Falena would be like in the situation he’s loving his little brother a bit too much? We all know Leona’s gonna be a tsun about it but what about niisan?

Anon! First of all, welcome and I hope you enjoy your stay. Second of all, thank you so much for appreciating our stuff and being supportive of our self-indulgent selves! lol

We love Falena/Leona in theory; we haven’t dived into them because we haven’t seen much of Falena + don’t care much for Leona. Still, we are 100% supportive of this ship! Every time we rewatch The Lion King, I get more and more into Mufasa/Scar...

Regarding your question, it’s interesting because I think the default really is to think that it’s Leona who is obsessive over Falena, and Falena might not even have a clue about it (or have a clue but still choose to be a proper future king instead of fooling around with Leona). But it’s entirely possible for him to also be very into Leona, it could even be more fun this way.

I feel like Falena has always been an adoring brother and Leona greatly underestimates just how much Falena loves him. Not only he worries about his future and cares about him (that’s a given), he also is genuinely impressed by his wit and intelligence; I wouldn’t be surprised if Falena talks about Leona all the time lol Maybe he gets as excited as Cheka sometimes, which is endearing at first, but then feels like Falena is um... a bit too much into him...

Falena also feels like someone who would rationalise his feeling by thinking that him being a king and having a wife and a son is one thing, but being with Leona is another thing, their private special thing that could actually still improve things for the entire Kingdom: if Leona is by his side and works together with him, they will be unstoppable. This is something that Falena wants the most... even if it’s just a way to justify his desire to have access to Leona (and his body) all the time. He needs to give Leona some attention, right? He wasn’t able to do it lately, right? This has to change.

I also wouldn’t be surprised if they had a bunch of “iffy” moments when they were younger. A sudden closeness during sparring, a hug that lasted longer than anticipated, a bite that was meant to be playfully teasing but ended up being too sensual and dominating. That tension existed for a very long time, and it only gets stronger with time.

Anonymous asked:

God... I am enraptured by Them. Completely obsessed with those first days Lilia started playing with Silver. You think he went slow with touches and inappropriate kisses, or just one day told him they're doing something new and put his whole dick inside him at once??? Silver couldn't have gotten so good at handling anything without trial and error... Have there been times Lilia overestimated him and left him overwhelmed and SOBBING sobbing, like he had to stop immediately or his kid wouldn't be the same person again kind of overwhelmed. Ughhhh I'm obsessed with them and their awful history

Anon, I am so happy you like these two this much. I feel like this awful history is such an obvious but tasty and amazingly working trope for them, it just works.

I guess it’s fair to say that Lilia went slow with his inappropriate behaviour, I honestly think that Silver didn’t even notice the switch, as if it was never there. He’s always been his father’s cute boy. Of course it’s just the way he remembers things... But he does remember the first time he had Lilia’s whole dick inside him!

But also yes, of course there had been a bunch of times when Lilia got too excited and overdid it with Silver. Even though Lilia did try to pace himself, I think he completely broke Silver all over like 10 times; and sometimes he is amazed that he turned out okay with what he went through. But he got better very fast! A miracle of true love <3

[sincerely-sofie]

Seeing as you have finished writing the script for your AU thingy, I wanna know, how?

Like, were you motivated the whole time? Or was it a on and off writing type thing?

i'm trying to write but I don't know if I have the motivation...

How did you keep the motivation if so?

Oh man. I have so much to say about writing and creativity that I could make an entire series of posts talking about the subject, but I'll try to keep things orderly and brief.

Disclaimer: I should let you know that I have never finished a writing project before recently finishing my TPiaG AU. Keep that in mind when reading the advice I offer— the tips I give have only been put into work in my own life over the course of the last couple of months, but they’ve proven very effective in my experience!

Sofie Creativity Tips Episode 1, go!!!

Was I motivated the whole time I was writing TPiaG / How did I stay motivated?

Absolutely not. If I hadn’t provided myself a detailed chapter-by-chapter outline for TPiaG before starting the writing process, I would have given up thanks to a mix of writer’s block and absent motivation. Motivation is a fickle muse and prone to ditching me for months on end, so I’ve adapted by trying not to rely on it, but also by creating new motivation rather than clinging to past motivation. I create motivation for myself in two ways: removing friction when writing and being my own fandom.

Removing friction is pretty simple— I create very detailed chapter outlines that remove any fear of writer’s block, set up my devices in a way to make it easy to access my manuscripts and notes, download premade writing playlists that have Pomodoro session break timers built into them, and more. Anything that makes the writing process easier to get into and enjoy doing, I make sure to incorporate into my life.

Being my own fandom is less intuitive, but a thousand times more rewarding in terms of motivation. I make memes of my characters. I write self-indulgent snippets on the side. I make AUs of my own work. I make playlists and save audio clips that suit the characters. I draw comics exploring concepts that might not get into the manuscript itself but that I want to make content for regardless. Basically, I dive in deep into the story, characters, and world, and try to do so with the enthusiasm that I give other people’s projects.

(That part is extra fun, because if I have a headcanon, it automatically becomes canon to whatever AU or original project I’m working on. I have all the power in the world when working like this, and it’s very fun.)

What changed and made it so I finished my first ever written project?

This isn’t exactly what was asked, but because I have eschewed motivation as the main driving force in my writing process, I figured I’d give another insight into how TPiaG went against the pattern of half-started and swiftly abandoned projects that came before it and actually got finished. Late into October, I adopted a new method of producing first drafts. Previously, I would spend weeks polishing the same chapter and would only move on to the next chapter once the current one was perfect. My new method is the complete opposite. I’ve started calling it Writing BFF:

Write bad

Write fast

Write fun

First up, write bad. The point of this is not to waste your time writing prettily during your first draft. Don’t bother agonizing over how to reword that one sentence to be more elegant when it does the job well enough to get its point across. Don’t go off on a 30-minute research tangent in the middle of a writing session because you want to fact-check that one detail and make sure it’s perfectly accurate when you could just put a placeholder detail in brackets and CTRL+F search and plug in something accurate later on. Don’t write pretty, write bad. And be okay with it. You can’t edit an empty page, so fill the page with as much garbage as possible so that you can turn it into gold later on.

Next, write fast. This is only effective when paired with writing bad. Don’t pause, don’t hesitate, don’t deliberate. Write as much as you can and do it as fast as you can. This idea is best illustrated by Chris Fox’s book 5,000 Words Per Hour, where he talks about increasing your WPM (words per minute) and how it makes everything about your writing better. The person who creates a beautiful first draft once every three years is doing okay, but the person who cranks out a complete manuscript every three months learns leagues more about writing than the first person does by the end of three years. The second person has practiced outlining, drafting, editing, publishing, and more with every manuscript completed. The faster you write, the better you get, because practice makes perfect and quantity begets quality.

Finally, write fun. I write what I enjoy, and if I’m not enjoying it, I pivot the project so that I enjoy it again. I like writing deeply personal stories, so pretty much everything I write is heavily based on my life and experiences— TPiaG included. Grovyle’s portrayal is deeply influenced by my experience being an elder sibling who has been a bad example of self-talk, and cleaned up my act because my younger sister started echoing how I spoke to myself. Dusknoir’s portrayal is informed by my experiences with being the therapist / mom friend in different social circles as well as attending actual formal therapy. Twig is the character that my experiences have the greatest influence on in her portrayal, and I joke about her being a self-insert, but ultimately all of the characters are self-inserts to some extent. I also enjoy low-stakes and slow slice-of-life stories that are driven by character growth. If I ever stop having fun with a project, I inject more of myself and my preferences into my work to get it back into my favor.

TL;DR / Writing advice lightning round

Write as badly as possible as quickly as possible, and have fun as you do it. Momentum yields motivation and stagnancy yields doubt. Editing comes only after the first draft is complete. Be your own fandom and your project’s biggest fan. Give yourself direction and ward against writer’s block by making detailed chapter-by-chapter outlines. Make the writing process as easy and enjoyable as possible. Motivation is a lie and if you chase after it instead of making your own, you’ll be writing on hard mode for the rest of your life. Reject perfectionism, embrace flawesomeness.

If I didn’t answer your question right, let me know! I’ll do my best to correct it.

[iheartgod175]

Some Thoughts (Mostly ZP, but still)…

—I’ve kinda hopped back onto the Zula Patrol train again since writing Turnabout, but I am planning on doing art and stories for other fandoms, too, of course ^^ I actually worked on chapter 4 of DCR and some more of Love Language for the first time in a month! Which is amazing progress since I had both writer’s block and worries that maybe a lot of folks aren’t interested in the story. But even if that were true, it’s not going to stop me from posting stories, especially about my favorite childhood show ^^

—I went a bit in depth about an OC who gets some focus in both DCR and a few other entries, Firestorm, who’s a military commander in one of the other Zulean branches (I’ll detail my own headcanons on the structure of the Zulean government in another headcanons post) and is one of the few people that Bula gets along with outside of his team because like him, she doesn’t tolerate the BS/corruption that goes on in the government. And somehow, I got the idea that in an alternate universe, they end up as a couple. It has me cracking up because now, I have three potential love interests for Bula: Zeeter (with whom I can see happening even in canon), Bonnie (my old OC whom I’ve revamped and even have a solo story for), and now Firestorm (who might get teased in the future). Bula’s literally building his own harem, LOL XD

—And then it got me thinking that if Bula’s a typical “clueless harem protagonist” (although unlike them, he makes himself useful and isn’t admired due to some random skill he has out of nowhere), Ricochet would be the “smug harem protagonist with a heart of gold” in that he dated Denise, Diane, Melissa, and many other women before he settled down. Also, in a few AUs, he does have a better relationship with Serena, Denise’s outlaw sister, and their relationship borders on UST. Silly thoughts are silly, LOL

—I’ve also had an idea regarding the Third Sight ability. Originally, this ability has no offensive capability in any field whatsoever. But then I had a thought: what if there was a way, theoretically, that a user could hurt/even kill someone with their mind? It came about from a thought that DS! Elfilis (with whom Multo interacts with in my latest crossover) could totally do this easily, since he’s basically seen as a god (although he’s mortal) and he’s a lot more powerful/experienced with his psychic powers. Not to mention that between him and Multo, his cruel streak is not only bigger, but also more terrifying. It got me thinking that the Zuleans who have the Third Sight can do this same thing, namely in a moment of pure distress/fury, stemming from the desire to make the perpetrator feel every ounce of pain they felt at watching their loved one get hurt/killed. The name for this attack is called “Flashpoint” (or at least, it’s a working idea for a name). I had the idea that Multo accidentally stumbles across this ability after someone got the great (read: stupid) idea to hurt Zeeter or any of the others in front of him, and unable to physically defend them (due to being trapped), he’s filled with both horror at his loved ones being hurt, and pure rage at the perp, wanting nothing but for him to feel that same pain and worse. Cue that happening to the perp, with the guy literally losing his mind. With Multo being the kind of person he is, he’s shocked/horrified that he can do such a thing. One of the villains in my current WIP, Nova, takes an interest in Multo after finding out about him using this.

—And now, a part of me wants to do an alternative version of Multo that’s evil. That would be pretty terrifying. O.O

—Oh, I’m also thinking of getting back to The Return of the Phantom Empire soon, thanks to working on Firestorm’s profile. Just trying to work on the general plot of the side story, which focuses on Quick Draw McGraw, and possibly Quack-Up, namely in regards to the trauma he suffered before he joined the Galactic Guardians. This chapter isn’t gonna be quite as long as the first three chapters, but that might change, lol XD

[mrghostrat]

Okay I cant -- I need to say it out loud.

I am 100% sure, at this point, you are my favourite artist so far. And I have to honestly thank you for a lot of stuff so let me get to the point before my anxiety takes me back --

I came across you less than a month ago. I don't remember if I saw your art before reading your fictions (Mon Horrible Cherì was my first) or the other way around, but both inspired me so much I can't describe it properly. Art itself is my absolute weak spot. In my past years I always struggled working on that, I was never happy with my results, and mostly had drawn to pay bills than for my own happyness. In the end I hated it at the point that every line I drew was a cut on my hand instead of a moment of joy. And that was horrendous.

But then I came across your art, at some point - and I was amazed. Your style is something I wished to achieve years ago, or very similar to that at least, so I was totally into looking for more, and more, and more. I can't produce art of that quality, but for the first time I wasn't envious of another artist's ability and talent, I was just... Amazed. I felt very happy, can't say why, but your style totally fascinated me. It still do. Anytime you post something new it gives me a shot of serotonine, it makes me feel happy and inspires me to get back on my Huion and draw something too. I started to push it through everyday, and in less than a month I grew a lot. You don't know that, but you pushed me into art with a passion I didn't had since I was 16, and I turned 30 couple months ago. Now it gives me joy everytime I draw. It doesn't matter if the art I produce is no good, or if I change my style everytime (I'm trying a lot of styles right now), the only thing that matter is the way I feel when I sit here and just let my inspiration go. And I feel happy. Happy to draw. Happy to experiment. Happy to share. Somehow I don't feel ashamed of my art anymore, and I was for a long time. I improved so much in these weeks. I watched carefully almost all of your timelapses (I am in love with all of them btw) and followed your tutorials more than once. Your examples, the way you work, is just inspirational for me. I've seen someone was thankful to you for the way you use references and says people out there to do it too: I want to thank you for that too. References was a taboo until last month for me, and I was SO wrong! Those helps so much!

So, well. I am not sure I wrote this all correctly, english is not my native language (I'm italian) and I may have done some mistakes, well, I do not care. I just hope I was able to express you my gratitude for all you did for me - I had to let you know how much this means to me everyday.

Oh also: I love every part of your art, but I could stare at your linearts for days and never get bored by that. And the way you color! Don't make me start on that. I could speak for hours. Not sure you'll want that, believe me.

So, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for making me believe in myself again. Thank you for giving me back my passion. Thank you for reminding me everyday I can draw for myself, for my own happyness. And thank you for making me happy.

You are a great artist.

Thank you! <3

i put off replying to this because i wanted to draw you something, but i just haven't had the energy after work and dont want u to think im ignoring you 😭

but i dont have WORDS. i'm so fucking proud of you. i'm so happy for you. browsing your blog and seeing the sheer amount of art and AUs you're making is so inspiring. your happiness is contagious and i hope you only continue to grow, and continue to foster all that joy for art.

thank you <3

[wasyago]

Dear Wasyago,

Strange, I have always thought it was spelled as Wasayago. But recently I've realized, I can't read very well.

I want to send appreciation today, to you.

You've taught me a lot about art. You've taught me a lot how to draw certain things, and you have opened my eyes to new perspective of art, ever since I started following you. Colours are brighter, I experiment more, I can see a specter of visuals that was previously hidden from me. It's like gaining shrimp colors.

Your art feels like an art classroom. There's sun pouring in from the windows, and there's tree leaves in front of them. Every time you come in you see different art projects. Paints add on to the tables, that will never scrub off again. There's dirty cups with paint water, and brushes, in the sink. It's lunch break, and there's people here. Some are just doing their math homework right before class, some are working on their sculpture, some are picking out paints, some are working on their new piece, on a fresh canvas. And it is so alive.

Your art feels so alive. Like the leaves, the people, the stains. It's really nice to see, every single time you post, how lovingly you bring a character into the world (My favorite so far is that one doodle of Modern au Gillion eating noodles, I have it in my favorites gallery).

I would like to see some unfinished, maybe forever to be so, doodles that you weren't especially proud of. We'll love it all.

Respectfully,

Marcus Bloodsmith

oh, thank you so much, this is so sweet qwq

im happy to know that you feel this way about my art, and im glad i could help you with some advice! it feels a bit weird to show unfinished or scrapped art under such a nice message, but yeah why not. and its funny that you mentioned the gillion eating noodles one, because its also one of the pieces that i really didn't like and didn't want to post hdgsh. i dont have that many unfinished drawings left because i delete or redraw most of them, but i have a couple that might be fun to share... and i guess it's gonna be a long post bc i wanna tell a little about each one or at least name them.

there's this art of chip, the first time i properly tried to figure out a way to draw him back when i just started listening. redrew this piece later, kept the sketch on the left, but the right one i changed completely because i didn't like the vibe this one has.

there's this attempt at redesigning caspian after i found out he was a water genasi, plus the first version of that art of caspian, pretzel and gill. this design didn't feel "caspian" enough, it looked too soft and kind where i wanted him to be more layed back and chill and sarcastic and with a bit of an edge. redrew both pieces later. the underwater drawing also has an unfinished background in this version, i added some fishies later so it didn't feel that empty.

some random sketch of gillion to show off how the lightning scars look on his face and neck. i quite like it, but it didn't really fit in the post with three proper drawings and one sketch so i decided to scrap it.

there's this drawing where i tried to figure out how the capital of the undersea looked like. i really didn't know where i was going with it and didn't have a good idea when i started drawing, so its a mess of things with nothing to really focus on. i tried to add a character on it later to breathe some life into it, but it didn't work out since i didn't focus it on the character from the beginning. plus i don't like how the colors turned out, and the entire concept of the environment feels weak and boring to me. i still want to draw more concepts of the undersea and try a couple other ideas, but probably at a later date...

the first version of whatever try it was to design gill's armor. (fun fact, i have more armor designs scheduled for tomorrow). this one i redrew almost immediately, i really didn't like how it turned out and how the legs were cut off and it looked so messy with no real accent point or personality. plus the smaller copy of the drawing in the corner just didn't look good. im not exactly proud of the redrawn version either (that's why i did another one yesterday lol), but im glad i redrew it anyway, it looks a lot better than this one.

the first sketch of that one gillion drawing. i couldn't figure out the colors for it for so long and wanted to drop the idea entirely. but i left it to sit for a couple hours and eventually got the motivation to come back to it and finish it. for most of the illustration pieces i did for jrwi there were multiple versions, where i just didn't like the first one and redrew the whole thing with a different composition and colors. didn't save any of those drawings tho...

this drawing of jay but with green wings and a slightly different color shirt. it was actually the first version of this drawing, and i changed the colors to blue later. wanted to post both of them side by side but then decided against it. that's why this drawing survived and was properly saved and not just deleted.

more recent attempts at designing the chaingel. i like the concept, and the pose in the second sketch is pretty badass, but the execution is just not there. it doesn't feel right, doesn't have the right kind of vibe that this character gives off. so im sure i will try and draw her later when i figure out what's missing and how to show her personality in the way it feels in my head. but these two sketches were never going to see the light of day, so now they're here.

aand this is it, this is everything that wasn't deleted in the past month for one or another reason. i feel like im more chill with deleting and redrawing things, so a lot of initial sketches and concepts never get saved or seen by anyone. im also on mobile so i can attach only ten files lol. not that it matters, the last two were just random figure drawings for warm up, not much to talk about.

[leviismybby]

KLARA GIRL DADVI BUT WITH TWINS

Anon...I wasn't planning on posting today but I had to, this is the cutest thing.

This is all just pure domestic fluff, modern!au this time. Oh and Levi is a stay at home husband.

The first time Levi saw his two girls, he couldn't take his eyes off of them. In his life, he never thought he can love something as much as he loves you but they proved him wrong. They are his spitting image.

First of all, he has to make sure to take care of you after your labour, you did push two humans out of you. Levi is so caring, bringing you tea, doing house chores, making sure you rest.

When the babies cry at night he is up even before you wake up, cuddling his small beans of sunshine in his hands with a gentle smile. He is always there when you feed them, making sure that you are comfortable and not stressing yourself as he feeds the bottle to the other twin.

They quickly become daddy's girls, little hands reaching out to him as soon as they are a little bit upset and Levi can't help it, he spoiles them rotten with affection.

It's no surprise that your daughters first words were "dada", it almost made Levi shed a couple of happy tears. The house becomes loud with giggles when they start to walk, following their dad everywhere.

When their hair starts to grow, Levi learns how to style them in different hairstyles. While the one is always obediently sitting, the other one is a little bit more of a rebel but Levi knows how to handle them.

Your bed becomes a sleeping ground for four as your twins sneak in to sleep between the two of you. He always reads them before bed. You have caught Levi softly staring at them and you more than once when he thought that you were asleep.

And when one of them has a nightmare, he handles it so well, cuddling them until they stop crying. Soon he teaches them that their dada is the strongest man on earth, no monster or man can hurt them as long as he is there.

He puts on a tv program just for some time so that he can clean the mess that they have made but Levi doesn't mind it at all. He makes sure to cook for them and feed them well.

Toys, books, anything they touch goes straight into the cart without question. "And you were worried that I was going to spoil them?" You tell your husband as he takes the giant teddy bear that your girls wanted.

Everyday at sundown tea time is a must, Levi makes himself tea and sits on the floor as the girls play with their plastic dishes, mimicking their father.

Oh and don't think that he won't let them draw on his face or do his hair because he will. As much as he looks mostly like a clown afterward, he loves his girls too much not to let them do what they want.

You laugh when you come back from work and see him in pigtails and marker on his face asleep on the sofa as the girls cuddle up to him.

Levi gets nervous the first time he takes them to daycare, he is worried about their safety of course and the first time he drops them off they cry, not wanting to go. His favorite part is the pickup time, his girls run to hug him with big smiles.

And when they start school, Levi can bearly believe at how fast time flies. It feels like just yesterday they were born and now they are six, ready to go to school.

He helps them with homework, teaching them patiently how to write and form sentences, packs them their lunch for school, and teaches them how to ride a bike.

Levi would truly be the best girl dad out there....

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Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @yakaaamoz @lovolee3 @levisbrat25 @levisgreyeyes @sixpennydame @luvjiro @niki-sun @notgoodforlife

[findafight]

I am so mad at myself. After writing in the tags "#not spn au just supernatural ok OKAY" on my supernatural au/human Steve au post. I am cursed with thinking of a cw supernatural au for human Steve au. Horrible. My fantasy mechanics work different than the show but fuck it if I'm not thinking about John Winchester sidling up to Hawkins, two boys in the back of the impala, a couple weeks after spring break of '86. Comes in cocksure and confident. It's a small town, someone had to have seen something, even if they had a witchhunt for some poor sap.

He meets the newly reinstated chief of police, (unclear why he was removed if everybody he's talked to loves the guy, calls him a hero and all that shit) and asks about the deaths. John's had a few years to work out the kinks in getting law enforcement to tell him about the weird shit that happens so he's not too worried about this Hopper guy.

He walks into the office and, well. Chief Hopper looks like shit. Sunken cheeks and sallow skin, the guy looks like he escaped prison more than anything. But. John can be polite. He introduces himself. Tries to ask some...subtle questions.

Cheif Hopper isn't taking the bait. Keeps twitching his nose, brows drawing lower and lower. At some point, he leans towards John, and there's a brief, instinctual, second of fear that runs down his spine, before the chief shrugs. Says "I've gotta make a call. I think I know who you're looking for."

John isn't asked to leave the office so he doesn't, just listens as the phone rings.

Someone answers and the cheif says "it's Hop. We've got a...visitor at the station. Figured you'd like to talk to him."

Some talking on the other end. And Cheif Hopper, who has, the entire time John has been in Hawkins, looked no more than fifteen seconds away from growling, huffs a laugh.

"seriously Harrington, I'd say you're the one with the expertise this fella's looking for"

A pause, muffled noise.

"good. Drive safe out there, kid. Oh! And might want to bring that book of yours, hm? See you soon."

The two sit in silence. John feels like he should recognize the name Harrington, he's definitely heard it before, but can't place it for the life of him. The door of the office swings open, revealing a... Teenager.

The kid wears a pastel polo, hair coiffed, highwaisted jeans, and is carrying the largest book John Winchester has ever seen.

He plops it on the desk, Cheif Hopper shuffling papers aside.

"so," he says, pushing his hair back and placing hands on his hips, "why'd you need me to bring this fucking thing here for? Besides the shady looking guy, obviously."

Well. So much for convincing the kid he's from the feds, probably. Couldn't hurt

John shrugs. "I was just asking the Cheif here if he knew anything about those deaths. I'm with the FBI, and we want to get to the bottom of it, especially if that Munson is falsely accused."

Harrington's jam hangs open. Snaps shut. He turns to the Cheif, corner of his lips tugging up. "The. The government. Wants to know about the deaths."

The Cheif nods. "That's right, son. The FBI, here in our own little Hawkins."

The kid. The kid fucking giggles. "I see why you called."

"obviously. Guy's as subtle as a train."

And. What? How'd they figure him out so quickly? Who was this Harrington kid? What was that book he brought?

"listen, buddy, I get that you think your trying to help. I do." John is being condescended to by a fucking teenager. "But we've got it all sorted. Hawkins is fine." The kid pulls out a chair from the corner and sits on it backwards, leaning forwards against the backrest. "I am curious as to what you thought the killings were, though. Vampire? Demon? I don't think anything else would really fit the descriptions in the papers..."

And. Fuck. Did this kid know he was a Hunter? "How'd you know?"

The kid smirks. "I'm Steve Harrington." He sticks his hand out, for john to shake.

It seems rude not to, considering this kid and-and the goddamn Cheif of police in this Podunk Indiana town both clocked him as soon as he crossed town lines, probably. "John Winchester. Hunter."

Steve laughs. It's cold. "Yeah. I figured. I dunno if you're new to the game, mister Winchester, but I'm surprised you didn't recognize my last name. My parents seem to be pretty famous in you circles."

Shit. Bobby has mentioned notable hunters, and the Harringtons were definitely on the list. A hereditary family of hunters going back four generations, impressive for their career choice even without their rap sheet. And John's just met their fucking kid.

"don't worry about offending them, though. I guess I'm just here to tell you to get the fuck out of Hawkins." He says it with a board expression, as though this interaction is barely

"what?"

Steve blinks at him lazily. "Hawkins is my town. I know most hunters aren't exactly...territorial, but I am. The town is under my protection, and any and all other-natural occurences are my purview."

It's then that John realizes what the Cheif was doing earlier. The odd face he made. He'd been sniffing him. A goddamn werewolf. He stiffens. This was a trap.

"it's not a trap, mr. Winchester. You're free to go. But spread the word. Hunters aren't allowed in Hawkins. Roane county, actually. If I hear about a Hunter coming into my town for anything other than a fuel top-up, they'll regret it."

John is. He's furious at this fucking child who dare to-hes just letting the beasts run amok in town and preventing anyone from doing anything about.

Harrington stands, arms crossed.

"I'd better not hear whispers about Hawkins, either. It's my town. I'll handle it." He grins. Opens the door of the office. "And, you might want to double-check that the government hasn't already been through a town with a shitty cover story already, Mr. Winchester. Might break your cover." He waves with his fingers as John spins on his heel and avoid looking at the glares he's getting for half the folks in the station.

-----

Dean checks the address on a source he was directed to by the witnesses, a one Steve Harrington. He's on a solo Hunt now, since Sammy went off to college his dad had been...tighter. he knows he's not supposed to be in Hawkins, but he's not entirely sure why. No is really sure why, honestly, but it's well known in the Hunter grapevine that Hawkins and greater Roane county is taken care of.

Except, apparently, it isn't. Hence dean being here.

He knocks on the door, which swings open immediately to a thirty-something man who was already talking before the door was fully open, obviously not expecting a stranger.

"didn't know you actually knew how to kno- Winchester." And. Well. Fuck, right? How'd this random guy know dean? The man scowls. "I spoke to your father once. Told him to stay out of my town." He crosses his arms and raises a brow. "So. Want to explain why you're here? I've already handled the whole 'accidentally bewitching people situation, if that's what your wondering."

Dean...isn't actually sure what's happening."uh."

Steve Harrington scowls again. "Fine. Come in for coffee or tea or something. Relax for a goddamn second."

So, Dean sits and let's a cup of coffee be pushed into his hands. He doesn't drink it. Steve rolls his eyes.

"I didn't poison it, promise."

Which now makes Dean think maybe it was poisoned.

"hunters, all the fuckin same" Steve mumbles. Reaches over and plucks the coffee from Dean's hands and takes a swig before sliding it back between his palms. "There. Proof. You'll be fine."

Dean drinks, watches.

Steve watches back.

He sighs. "I'm sorry, about how you grew up."

"huh?"

Steve shakes his head. "Being the child of hunters. It's difficult. Lonely. I'm sorry you went through that."

Dean shrugs. "It's not so bad. Free as a bird."

Steve hums. Sips his own coffee. "Birds have flocks, or gaggles, or whatever other funny words we use to describe groups. Hunters..." He shrugs. "Not so much. Most fly solo or in pairs. Didn't you have a younger brother?"

"how did you-"

"I may not be nomadic, but I still have ears on the ground."

"huh. He went to college."

"ah. Getting out of the life. Good for him."

And suddenly Dean needs to get out. Can't stand this stranger who thinks he knows him, the way his eyes turn down, as though he's sad for Dean of all people. No. No. He needs to leave.

Harrington follows him to the door, leans on the frame as Dean stomps to the Impala. He turns around.

"i don't know what the fuck you think you're doing here, with those monsters on the loose. My dad told me about the wolves you're protecting that're infesting this place. They aren't pets you know. You need a fucking exterminator."

Steve shakes his head. "remember Dean. No hunters in Hawkins. Safe driving."

-----

Dean cannot believe they are going back to Hawkins of all godforsaken places.

Castiel sits beside him in the passenger seat, sam surrounded by papers in the backseat and it should be pleasant, easy and comfortable. But. But they're heading to Hawkins.

As soon as the cross city limits, Castiel cocks his head, interested.

"what is it?"

"I don't...know. something is different about this town."

From the back, Sam huffs. "Yeah, it's got a rogue hunter protecting all the monsters and ghouls."

Castiel hums. "I am not so sure he protects the same creatures you hunt..."

Dean sighs. Fucking great.

Eventually, they pull up to the same house he visited all the way back in '02, and Dean is...sort of nervous. He'd been told not to come back, but really...they needed help. Information. And Steve goddamn Harrington was the best bet they had of getting it.

He rings the doorbell. When it's answered, the door swings open to a man, middle-aged with long greying hair and-shit that's Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin. That's Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin answering Steve Harrington's door and calling,

"Steve, sugar, you've got some... specialty guests!" He turns back to them, smiling, and Dean is trying very hard to not make a fool of himself. Tries not to tell Eddie Munson ofcorrodedcoffin that his first album changed Dean's life. He's going to stick with biting his tongue and nodding. Following Sam and Cas I to the living room, sitting down on the couch. He's fine. He's got a job to do. He's a professional.

Sexy middle-aged men have no power over him. He leans into Cas' space slightly.

Harrington walks in, pecks eddiemunsonofcorrodedcoffin on the cheek, oh god, and sits down.

Dean immediately stands up.

"could I, uh, use your washroom?"

Steve blinks up at him, but nods, gestures to a hallway. Dean strides down and through an open door with the light on. He pulls the shower curtain away, an instinct to always check his surroundings, and immediately jumps back as a seal barks at him. He slams the door shut on his way out.

"there's, um. There's a seal in your bathtub. Sorry guys."

Neither Harrington nor Eddie Munson have normal reactions to this piece of news.

Eddie Munson flings his head back and laughs, hair wild around his head.

Steve Harrington sighs and punches the bridge of his nose.

"sorry about her. I said we'd go to lover's lake for a swim later but living in Chicago with lake Superior right there is really spoiling her."

"what"

"one second. Robin!" He yells down the hall. "We have guests! Be decent!"

A few moments of Eddie Munson giggling and Dean decidedly not staring at a metal legend and Steve muttering about seals and soulmates and being impatient pass, and a woman, around the same age as Munson and Harrington most likely, walks down the hall toweling off her hair. She tossed a coat at Harrington.

"oh" this is from Cas. "You are soulmates."

The woman laughs. "Yeah. Figured that one out over twenty years ago." She settle into Harrington's side. "What can we help you with?"

Sam, who is curious but can usually figure out how to ask the questions he wants with out, say, blurting what the fuck do you mean SOULMATES or why is Eddie Munson (of Corroded Coffin) here? And can I get his autograph? It's probably the law school training.

Eddie Munson leans down, covers his mouth with a ringed hand, and whispers into Harrington's ear. Harrington turns to Peck Eddie Munson on the lips and whisper something back, rejoining listening to Sam and Cas as thought they hadn't done whatever that was. Dean grips Cas coat.

All in all, it was actually a successful trip to Hawkins, though Steve give him the same warning when they leave, with very little explanation for it.

Hunters better stay the fuck out of his town.

[becauseplot]

Hi hello more thoughts about this post-osnf au. I should come up with an official name or tag for this lmfao.

A couple nights out of the hospital, settled in Liz's guest room, is when Thiago starts having dreams of being lost in the Symbol again, waking up scared and disoriented and confused. The thing is, he never calls out to anyone while in the middle of his panic because he simply doesn't think to (he knows nothing but the Symbol, where is the Symbol, where is the Symbol...), so by the time he finally thinks of reaching out to Liz---she keeps her phone on her bedside with certain contacts on ringer at night---or texting his friends, he's je's already mostly calmed down and feeling like himself again. That doesn't mean he isn't shaken by it though, and he rarely ever sleeps after waking up like that.

Telling the others that he's having these dreams (Nightmares? Visions? Oh god, he hopes not visions...) is probably the smart thing. But he also doesn't want to freak them out considering that Santo Berço should be, is, dead in the ground and he knows hoe shaken up they were by him taking that Symbol. Fuck, he was shaken too. More than shaken. Admitting that the Symbol still comes for him in his sleep is just...it's terrifying to consider what that means.

He's sure they're just dreams. He's had nightmares---still has nightmares---of his first mission, so only makes sense that the second one would show up too. It's just fresh in his mind. In a week or two, they'll start to taper off.

They do not taper off.

They don't seem to get substantially worse, no, but they certainly don't seem to get much better. Reactions upon waking range from being disoriented for a couple seconds to full blown disconnections from his body and his memory for god knows how long as he struggles to find comfort in surroundings that are entirely strange and alien to him.

He figures out a way to cope, though. He sleeps with a lamp on low light (and a towel lining the bottom of the door to keep Liz from noticing in case she wakes up before him and passes by his room) and writing the following in dark pen on his inner forearm every night before he goes to bed: "My name is Thiago Fritz. I live in São Paulo. My friends are Liz, Cesar, Joui, and Arthur. Liz sleeps in the room upstairs. The Symbol is gone. I am home and I am safe." He scrubs it off every morning. Eventually he cuts the sleeve off an old white workout shirt and writes the reminder on the elastic, skin-tight sleeve so he can simply slip it on before bed.

Does it work? A bit. Sometimes his disorientation gets so bad that the shapes of the letters are just that, shapes, but once his brain can work enough to recognize the shapes for letters and read, it gets much easier from there. He draws some spirals and swirls on the sleeve in the hopes of drawing his attention to it more whenever he's freaking out.

In any case, he's coping, he's got this. Sure, he still doesn't sleep well (or at all) after waking up from the dreams, so he's tired all the time, but a little sleepiness can be remedied with naps. He's injured and middle aged now, people can't get on his case if he wants some shut eye in the afternoon.

The others notice his perpetual exhaustion. Of course they do. He tells them "nightmares" and doesn't elaborate. Liz tells him that he's welcome to wake her if he's having a rough time, and Thiago just tells her she's welcome to do the same. Easy dodge.

[deconstructthesoup]

Fantasy High Adventure Time AU

And I am back at it again with the self-indulgent nonsense...

Okay, so, yeah, this started with my post where I noticed the stark similarities between Marceline and Fig. Which, of course, sent my ADHD brain spiraling, and I decided to actually COMMIT to this.

Also, fair warning, this isn't gonna be neat and organized like my others, this is just gonna be *wall of incoherent text*. If I could draw, this would be entertaining, but, uh... YEP!

*clears throat*

So... Fabian and Kristen are the only two humans living in Ooo, and while they both arrived on its shores in different circumstances, the two of them were both taken in by a goblin family who'd left the goblin kingdom and taken up residence in one of the destroyed cities. Eventually, the two set off on their own, along with their adoptive brother Riz, to pursue a life of adventure and heroism just outside of the Candy Kingdom.

All of them have pretty different motives for going into the hero business, though it mostly comes back to just wanting to stick with each other. Fabian's in it for the adrenaline rushes and the glory, Riz is in it for the detective skills and putting bad guys away, and Kristen's just in it to help others out. Riz is, of course, the braincell amongst the three of them, and he's usually there on the sidelines rubbing the bridge of his nose while his siblings are getting themselves tangled in romantic subplots.

The three of them mostly answer to Adaine, aka Princess Buttercream---a girl who was mutated into a candy person after nearly dying in the aftermath of the Great Mushroom War, and has since built herself a kingdom dedicated to peace, learning, science, magic, and sweets. She's incredibly intelligent (and, unlike Bonnie, actually has a lot of interest in magic) and a very capable ruler, but she does occasionally get herself into scrapes---so, it's a good thing she's got three intrepid heroes watching her back.

Not too far away from where Fabian, Kristen, and Riz live is the Thistlespring residence, where their friend Gorgug lives---a shy half-giant who has a passion for tinkering and dreams of adventuring, but is held back by his fear of his giant fury taking him over. The heroes still visit him constantly and encourage him to try as best as he can, eventually giving him the confidence he needs to start making his own path---and to finally ask out the girl he likes.

Another close friend of the heroes is Figeroth the Demon Queen, a devil-may-care rock star with powers that come straight from the Nightosphere. She, too, remembers what life was like before the Great Mushroom War, but she doesn't really think back on it as much as she maybe should. Fig and Adaine are best friends, and have been since they met in the wastelands of the ruined planet... though their relationship's been a little bit strained as of late, mostly due to Fig's long-ago breakup with the former princess of the Fire Kingdom and the current librarian of Wizard City. Adaine's been trying to get them back together, and while Fig and Ayda are talking again... there's still a while to go.

The Candy Kingdom is constantly under attack by the Ice Queen, who at the start of the story just appears to be a wicked witch who plans on imprisoning Adaine and taking over Ooo... a witch that, unfortunately, Fabian has a bit of a thing for. But after some digging, Fabian, Kristen, and Riz find out that the Ice Queen is actually Adaine's older sister Aelwyn, who's been driven mad by a crown that their father had uncovered in the days of the Mushroom War. Aelwyn has forgotten almost everything---including her best friend and girlfriend, Sam Nightingale---but she still dimly remembers her connection to Adaine, even if Adaine was too young to fully remember her. (Oh, yeah, also, Aelwyn's, like, twelve years older than her in this.)

This is all I really have so far, though I've got a couple other snippets---Ragh also starts out as an antagonist but grows into a solid ally and Fabian's love interest, Tracker and Jawbone are part of a group of werewolves who are descended from some of the original humans, Ostentasia is an LSP equivalent---but, yeah, this is all I can get out right now.

...I gotta go to bed.

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter sixty-eight // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: 

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this fic: 6.7k warnings for this chapter: p in v, fingering, dirty talk

a million boops to my beta reader banners by @cafekitsune

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Sixty-Eight:

Cliveden’s gardens at night in the winter are beautiful. They’re vast and eerily empty, though that could just be the stillness of the night. Victorian lamp posts light the way and with the gently falling snow, kinda gives me Narnia vibes.

 I wander around, careful to stick to the crunchy gravel paths and keep the main house in sight. This isn’t the first time I’ve had such an opportunity for escape. Yeah, I could Apparate anywhere, but why? Now that a plan will be in place, what’s the point? It’s exactly what I wanted. 

Movement draws my eye and I catch Diana’s head above the shrubbery, heading in my direction. I’m not ready to go inside yet, so I sit on a nearby bench and wait for her to join me.

“Did they send you to make sure I was still here?” I ask, mostly teasing.

“Kyle did,” she admits as she sits next to me. She’s all bundled up in a stylish thick wool coat while I’m just fine in my Ilvermorny sweater and Thomus’ scarf. “But that’s alright, I’d much rather talk to you.”

Instantly my guard's up. “About what?”

She hesitates for a moment, but I give her my best encouraging expression, despite my raging nerves. 

“Well, I wanted to ask how you feel about Thomus.”

I blink, my eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, um, well, I -”

“It’s just that Jake seems to think you genuinely care about him because of how adamant you are about his safety,” she says. “Now that I’ve met you and I’ve seen you two together, I think he’s right, but I wonder if it’s more than that.”

I think about my answer for a few moments, but respond with a question instead. “Is this because you two used to date?”

She immediately shakes her head and chuckles. “Definitely not. It didn’t last longer than a month or two and it was a long time ago.”

“Did-did he break up with you?” I ask with some hesitation.

“I dumped him actually,” she says. “He just… When we hung out or went on dates, his mind always seemed like it was elsewhere.  The only time he seemed fully present and invested was when we…” she trails off. 

“When what?” I prompt.

She gives me a sheepish expression. “Sorry, it might be a bit TMI.”

I shrug and shake my head. “Don’t worry. There’s no such thing as TMI for me. I need everything.” Even if that information guts me. I’d always rather know.

“When we were sleeping together,” she says all in one breath.

I don’t say anything, waiting to hear more. “Oh, is that it?”

Her eyebrows tilt up in sympathy. “I suppose if I were in your situation I wouldn’t want to hear about it.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking down. “I can see that. Do you know what he was so focused on?”

“Well, I know his mother had passed away a few months before and then there was… her .”

“Bellatrix,” I sigh knowingly.

“He visited her every couple weeks - no matter what. I didn’t even know he was still going after we started dating. When I confronted him, he insisted there was nothing physical going on between them, but I… had my doubts. He told me he stopped going after that, but I know he went back after it ended,” she explains. “Does he still see her often?”

“I… have no idea honestly.”

“Have you not asked?”

I shake my head. “Why would I?”

“Because you two are…” she sighs. “It’s complicated, I know.”

“There’s a massive power imbalance between us and I’m not going to let myself forget that, regardless of how I feel.”

“What about how he feels?” she asks gently.

“If anything he feels is real, then why am I still his prisoner?” I answer a little too quickly. “He doesn’t see me as his equal. I don’t want to belong to him like I’m some kind of possession. I want a partner willing to rely on me as I want to rely on them in return. How can anyone be devoted to an object?” I finish by inhaling sharply, having taken short breaths during my lament. 

Her lips press together as she regards me with a cautious look. “The world has really changed since Harry Potter died,” she says. “No one is doing well - especially muggleborns. No one has been able to fly under the radar since they started implementing some kind of forced registry.” She pauses and then chuckles. “And you would not be able to go unnoticed.”

I sigh. “It’s the hair isn’t it?”

“Actually, no,” she says. “You’d be surprised how popular some of these articles about you have been.”

Now this, I’m taken aback. "Articles? As in more than one?"

"I'm afraid so. The best one is from the New York Ghost , but Witch Weekly's was pretty nice. Does someone have it out for you at The Daily Prophet , by any chance?"

"Probably Rita Skeeter," I grumble. I want to know what they've been saying about me. "Though I'm surprised I was interesting enough for one article, let alone multiple."

"I disagree," she says. "I think what you're doing is very brave. You haven't given up despite all these odds stacked against you. Honestly, I was really excited to meet you when I heard you were coming."

I blush, laughing awkwardly. "I, um, I'm sorry, I definitely had no idea you existed until tonight. Thank you for inviting me to that thing on New Years Eve, even though I can't go. It reminded me of what being normal was like."

"No problem!" she smiles. "I would've been glad to have you. You’re super cool and totally normal.” She winks at me and quietly laughs to herself. “But seriously, you should consider thinking that he might just want to keep you safe, where he can protect you.”

“But I can protect myself ,” I gently protest. “It’s because I’ve been under his ‘care’ that I’ve been vulnerable! He has to realize that.”

Her eyes soften with sympathy. “I think he does, because there was one weekend Jake told me about. He’d just met you and Thomus in Edinburgh and you’d been… assaulted while they’d all just been standing there, unknowing. He said he’d never seen Thomus be that violent before - violent without using magic that is.”

I stare at her eye-wided, enthralled with this story. This change in perspective. 

“And then the next night, there’d been this party Thomus got drunk at and Jake said he could tell something was really bothering him. Apparently, he was really reluctant to talk about it, too.”

I scoff. “I hope he got over himself and opened up so you can share this information with me now.”

“Yeah, so he finally said he blamed himself for being an idiot and not paying better attention. Like, it really hit him that your safety was in his hands.”

I… don’t know what I’m allowed to feel. My heart wants to swoon and my mind wants to roll its eyes. Except, if he’s not as terrible as I thought, am I allowed to hope? 

“I think I remember when he came home,” I admit. “We continued drinking and he asked me how I felt - which was very new for us at the time.”

Diana smiles ruefully. “Does he get points for trying, at least?”

“We’ll see,” I say. “I’m definitely nervous that it could all just be a… fling to him.”

Diana startles me by releasing a loud cackle.

“A fling?!” she bellows, struggling to catch her breath. “Oh honey, you’re delusional.”

“What? No!” I protest. “I’m being realistic.”

“Oh Lady Morgana,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes and standing. “Come on, let’s go inside before my fingers fall off.”

~*~

By the early hours of the morning, I’m utterly exhausted. 

Kyle had changed his mind and decided to tell me his roughly outlined plan. It’s not terrible, but luckily the rough bits still have time to be hammered out. I should have plenty of notice before I have to leave, plenty of time for contingencies.

Thomus is out like a light, still snoring softly, when I return. I try to be as quiet as possible as I strip down to my undies and crawl into the massive four-poster bed with him. 

It must not be massive enough, though, because just me softly rolling into position beneath the covers is enough to rouse a few sleepy words from him.

“Darling?” he rasps and I feel his hands reach for me in the dark.

“Hi,” I whisper. “Sorry I woke you.”

He hums and pulls himself closer, resting his head on my chest. “How did we get back to the cottage?” he says sleepily, curling himself against me.

“We didn’t,” I say, running a hand through his hair and the other over his shoulders. “We’re still at Cliveden.”

“Hm, I don’t remember getting here.”

His tone isn’t setting off any alarm bells. It’s low and gravelly, like he’s not entirely awake yet.  He’s just mindlessly chatting and I just have to be casual.

“Well, you were very drunk,” I say. “You passed out playing Exploding Snap. Jake had to levitate you up here.”

His arm around my waist tightens, pulling me tighter against him. “You didn’t leave.”

I don’t say anything, panic instantly spiking my heart rate, and I hope he’s not awake enough to pay attention.

“You could have, but you didn’t,” he continues. “Not that I’d blame you if you did.”

I stay silent, trying to convince myself that his calm demeanor is because whatever he’s talking about, couldn’t be about the drama of the night. There's no way he was awake enough to hear what we said. 

“No,” I murmur. “I didn’t.”

“What room did he put us in?” he murmurs.

I let out a sudden strained laugh. “You’d never guess.”

~*~

On New Year’s Eve, Thomus leaves again. He says it’s to finish last minute tasks for the Gala and whatnot and I feel… depressed… again. I’m mostly uninterested in eating - I ate a bologna and cheese sandwich for dinner. I’m not in the mood to read, listen to music or watch any movies, but I’ve had The Nanny on all day - just to make the house less quiet.

So I just go to bed at the blessed hour of 8pm. 

I’ve barely been in bed for longer than fifteen minutes when the easily recognizable sound of the Floo roaring to life drifts up the stairs. I’ve sat up by the time Thomus finds me.

“In bed already?” he asks, surprised. “On New Year's Eve?”

I shrug, holding the blanket up to my naked chest. “It’s not the easiest holiday to spend by yourself.”

Thomus sits on the edge of the bed, swiftly leaning in to kiss my cheek. “And I don’t intend for you to, I agree completely.” He jumps up, taking long strides through the bathroom to my room, where I hear him opening the wardrobe. I sigh, scooting to the edge to throw my legs over it. It’s just my luck I was already in bed.

“A little warning might have been nice,” I say when he returns, arm cradling a black hoodie and black leggings. 

He takes one look at me and the next moment he’s tossing my clothes on the bed and crowding into my space. His large hands cradle my head as he braces me for his lips on mine. He leans in and I have to prop my arms behind me so we don’t fall backward. Of course this causes the blanket to fall and his hand swoops down to cup and grope my chest, the attention causing my nipples to harden. 

His kisses take my breath away and my thighs are quick to part for him. His hips slide right into the space provided, grinding his hard-on against me. My kisses slacken because all of my attention goes right to my throbbing clit and I desperately whimper.  

His hips rock against me one more time before he pulls away, both of us breathless. His eyes trail down my body as he speaks. “We don’t have much time,” he says. “I will have to savor you later.”

When he steps completely away from me, I’m left cold, so I quickly slide on the oversized hoodie as he adjusts himself in his pants.

“Savor me?” I ask when I stand, stepping into the pants one leg at a time.

He chuckles, watching me wiggle the waistband up over my hips and stomach. “I thought it was a bit more romantic than fuck.”

Ping . There goes the tiniest fracture in my heart for him. I scramble for something clever or funny to say. 

“I suppose it could’ve been worse,” I say, popping in a British accent for the last word. “You could’ve said shag .”

“Cute,” he smirks.

I follow him downstairs, sliding on my socks before I stop at the door for my sneakers and turn for the fireplace.

He clicks his tongue. “Not that way.”

I narrow my eyes and follow him out the door. He takes me to the spot beyond the fence and touches the tattoo before Apparating us to the Manor. The front gates are open and he swiftly takes hold of my tattoo again to get me over the barrier. 

We walk down the entrance path, under gilded arches and golden fairy lights crossing overhead from the tall hedges. Holding my hand, he pulls me around the building along the back toward a door being held open by an elf.

“Miss,” Remmy says to me in a disinterested greeting and drops his voice to a whisper. “Master Thomus, Mistress expects you in fifteen minutes. Master isn’t even dressed -”

“Don’t worry, Remmy, I will be there,” Thomus reassures them as we pass. “Mums the word about Miss Alder, remember?”

“Yes, yes, Remmy remembers,” the elf dismisses. 

Thomus leads me to his room, making sure to use hallways noticeably absent of chatty portraits. A familiar route because of the many times I'd avoided them myself. The moment we’re in his room, he heads for the bathroom, already stripping. There’s a black robed suit hanging from a hook on the door. 

“Please tell me you're not gonna surprise me with a ball gown, are you?” I ask, hopping up onto the bed and toeing my shoes off. 

“I value my neck, thanks,” he remarks, pulling on first his suit pants, then the black button up shirt. “Would you grab me a pair of cufflinks from the closet?”

“Does it matter which one?” I ask, knowing he's got a variety. 

“No.”

By the time I emerge from the closet, elegant silver M stamped cufflinks in hand, he’s already dressed. He smiles at me as I pass him the tiny pieces of metal. 

“All you have to do is wait for a few hours,” he says, his mood curiously… cheerful? “Go back to sleep if you'd like - just don't leave this room. Only Remmy knows you're here.” 

“Why all the fuss?” I ask, my eyes greedily taking his suited form in. I suppress the desire to pull him close by his silk tie for a kiss. He looks too suave and sophisticated and… way out of my league.

“For the simple reason that I don’t want certain guests to know you’re here,” he explains, stepping into the bathroom once again. I hear him spritz a bottle of something.

“And why is that again?” 

He glides out of the bathroom, passing me by with a quick peck to my cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

I completely ignore the fact he didn’t answer my question, because I’m way too distracted by his suddenly fragrant cologne. I breathe in lung-fulls of cedar and pine, trying not to swoon in his wake as he pulls out his wand to light the fireplace. 

Then he’s gone, the door audibly locking behind him.

~*~

Well, I definitely try to sleep. Except I wasn’t even tired when I climbed into bed the first time.

First I change into a purple wispy nightgown with a deep vee in the neck that stops at my thighs. Then I change out of it when the frills around the short sleeves become too itchy under the covers, opting instead for a simpler one with long sleeves and a hem that falls around my ankles. 

All this, just to be uncomfortable in every position I try. Nevermind the fact my mind keeps doing laps of worrying, wondering who exactly Thomus doesn’t want to know I’m here. Rodolphus? Bellatrix? Is he dancing and flirting with her while her husband tracks me down this very moment? 

Finally I give up and decide to grab a handful of Thomus’ old Daily Prophets and settle on the cushioned bench in the alcove of one of his windows. I sit sideways on it, my back against the wall with the door in my line of sight. 

I’m about to cast a subtle illumination spell to help my poor eyesight in this dim lighting when movement out the window catches my eye. It’s the curtains billowing out of the open doors to the ball room - or the large drawing room as Narcissa calls it. Golden light spills from windows and the doorway  as the guests' shadows and silhouettes move within. Some are moving swiftly as if dancing while some are mingling. Before I can think better of it, I’m pushing open the French window closest to me.

I hear boisterous laughter and the low hum of chatter, and best of all, music drifts up to me like a leaf in the breeze. It’s the exact kind of music I’d imagine would play at a ball like this, and I can’t help but picture myself down there, in some pretty dress twirling around the room with Thomus.

I sit there, content to listen to the string quartet and people watch. Some come outside for the cool air, others to have a private word alone with each other. 

Hermione is relatively easy to spot. Her black gown is ridiculously puffy around the skirt, but synched skin-tight in the bodice, and even from here I can see the jewels glittering on her chest. I’m surprised to see Draco by her side, dressed head to toe in white. They linger by the door, always surrounded by ladies vying for his attention. I can’t help but notice how his hand slowly caresses her back, almost… lovingly from her waist up to her shoulders and nape when he thinks no one is watching.

Thankfully, I don’t see Bellatrix, but I also don’t see Thomus, either. An inconsequential fact I try not to linger on.

I don’t know how long I sit like that, but eventually Thomus returns, quietly stepping into the room with two empty champagne glasses and a bottle.

“I kinda feel like Cinderella wanting to go to the ball,” I say softly as he approaches. He looks politely puzzled and before he can ask, I explain, “It’s just a No-Maj fairytale.”

“Ah,” he hums. He takes hold of the forgotten newspapers on the other side of the bench and raises an eyebrow.

I feel a blush creep up my throat and try to keep my tone nonchalant. “I… maybe like to read your articles,” I say. “It’s crazy to think we both spent time at The Daily Prophet , but at different times so we never ran into each other.”

I feel like I’m rambling, but how could I not? He looks and smells far too dashing for me to think clearly. 

“It is a bit ironic,” he says, replacing his papers where I’d gotten them from before returning. He takes up the rest of the bench, his back to the window, and places the glasses and bottle on the floor next to him.

“Do you think things might’ve been different if we’d met there instead?” I ask hesitantly, knowing all too well his opinions on ‘what if’s. “Before?”

Thomus sighs heavily and the air puffs out his cheeks. He raises an eyebrow and gives me a sideways look. “Honestly?”

I nod. “Yeah, always.”

“Hm, I think…” his mouth downturns as he speaks, his voice betraying his amusement. “I’d find you the most annoying person on the planet.”

A disbelieving laugh bursts out. “What?!”

He nods, completely solemn. “Oh yeah, always asking questions, always bothering me.”

“Oh no, I’d have to talk to you about our job ,” I say with dramatic sarcasm, trying and failing to keep the smile off my face. “Oh no, what a nightmare.”

Thomus grabs my ankle, lifting my foot so he can shift closer, until my calf rests on his opposite thigh. That hand slides from my ankle all the way up my leg, and I’m disappointed it’s not under my nightgown. “It would have been an absolute nightmare to have you prance into my office every bloody day,” he continues as his fingers meet the crease at my hip and wedge themselves in. Then they keep traveling and grip all the plentiful flesh there. “I’d never be able to get any work done because I’d constantly be thinking about bending you over my desk.”

My eyes run laps over the sharp lines of his face, trying to determine if he’s serious. “Is that so?”

Thomus’ eyes drop to my mouth, his free hand brings his thumb to brush my lower lip. “These would be the worst. With every meddlesome question you ask, I’d only be able to think about how they’d taste.”

I’m holding my breath - my heart thudding, my ears burning. I’m suddenly very unnecessarily conscious of how far my glasses have slipped down my nose, the cool breeze from the window across my chest, and how heavy I’m breathing over his thumb. And for some reason his accent is doing funny things to my insides right now, of all times. 

His voice is low, husky, and oh, so hot. “I’d be thinking about how you’d sound when I touched you. And yes, I say when . I could only endure such torture for so long before I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

I snort, a disbelieving smile breaking out under his thumb. “You make me sound like some kind of irresistible vixen.” A chuckle rumbles out of his chest, but I keep going. “Well, I have good news for you - I wouldn’t object to any of that.”

“Is that so?” His hand caresses from my jaw to my neck. 

I bite my lip to control my grin. “Well, yeah. Why do you think I’d be bothering you so much in the first place?”

Thomus lets out a breathy chuckle and sits back, his eyes crinkling in the corners. I can only stare, mesmerized by seeing genuine happiness on his face.

“So,” I say brightly. “Are you enjoying this party you put so much effort into preparing?”

His smile fades. “Not as much as I ought to, I suppose.”

“Oh, why not?” I ask, placing my hand over his one on my neck, feeling along the lines of his knuckles and fingers.

“The people down there…” he starts, eyes gazing out the window, “the only thing I’ve ever been to them is a source for gossip and scandal. And then the few who look past all that see the Malfoy name and nothing else.”

I let that process. “So what you’re saying is you’re a real catch?”

He bursts out laughing, the hand from my hip reaching up to scratch his chin. “Yeah, for those desperate to social climb.”

“So you’re a desperately eligible bachelor ?” I tease with a bit more drama to my tone. “How interesting. All the finest debutantes must be lining up down there, so what ever are you doing up here with me?”

“I’m a little old for debutantes.” He settles toward me into a more relaxing position, pulling his knee up and pressing his calf onto the bench under my thighs. With his face closer to mine now, his softly spoken words are loud and clear. “And besides, your company is vastly preferable over theirs.”

My face floods with heat and I crumble under his direct eye contact. My mouth suddenly feels as dry as the desert while I’m forced to figure out some kind of intelligent reply. “Quite shocking, really,” I say, my voice a whisper until I clear my throat, swallowing down some nerves. “Who wouldn’t want to hang out with the wizarding world’s most crankiest?”

He laughs again. “Are you talking about me or them?”

I’m about to answer, but a dull tapping sound coming from the party draws my attention. The guests are returning inside, tapping their wands against their champagne glasses. 

“Ten minutes to midnight,” Thomus explains. “Lucius and Narcissa are about to make their toast.”

I slip my other hand around the one he has at my neck, both of mine cradling it near my chest as I glance at the clock on his mantle. “I guess that means you have to go?”

“Probably,” he admits slowly. “But I’m here.”

“Hold on, speaking of being here, isn’t Draco supposed to be in Switzerland?” I jut in, my eyes easily finding him and Hermione on the edge of the crowd. 

“He is and Lucius is absolutely furious,” he sighs. “I can’t believe he’d be so foolish.”

“Well, it's obvious, right?” I ask, side-eying him, unsure if this is something I could even talk about. “He’s like, really into Hermione.”

A few moments tick by in silence as I stare at the crowd below. I glance at him to see his eyes had been on me the whole time, his expression pensive. When our eyes meet, he holds them for a moment before his gaze follows his hand as both of his gently hold mine instead. He pulls back my left sleeve, his fingers lightly tracing his name inked on my skin. Then he goes further, tracing the white puckered lines of the scar Bellatrix left me. 

“What’re you thinking about?” I whisper.

His lips curl ruefully. “I’m thinking about how much of a hypocrite I am. I’ve called him foolish when here I am,” he says. “Unable to stay away.”

“From what?” I breathe, feeling stupid the moment I finish. My heart is beating so hard I wonder if he can feel my pulse where he holds my arm.

Thomus’ eyes hold on my arm, avoidant of my own. His voice is soft like he's telling me a secret. “I snuck you in tonight because I couldn’t bear not spending it with you.”

My eyebrows come together and I feel my head shake. “It’s just another year.”

“No,” he says, his eyes flashing up to mine, adamant. “Moments like these are important, to spend with those who are important. That’s why they’re all gathered down there, isn’t it? To go into the New Year praising the Dark Lord’s reign, congratulating themselves for their accomplishments this year.” He looks back down at our hands, at his name. “I know I don’t have much to celebrate in that regard, but I do know that you’re important to me… and frankly I'm tired of pretending otherwise.”

I can only stare at him. Unable to think, unable to breathe . How could he say something like that? 

When I finally have to draw breath after what feels like an eternity, I only get to say his name. “Thomus -”

The loud popping of fireworks bursts from below, along with some cheer that has me turning my gaze away only briefly. I turn back and Thomus’ mouth descends on mine. 

The kiss is full and wonderful, but short. He pulls back inches away to search into my gaze, like he’s asking for permission, like he’s making sure what he just said was okay. 

It was more than okay. It’s exactly what my heart wants to hear, even though my own stubborn insecurities push doubt into my mind. 

I can’t say anything back. I can’t tell him how I feel.

But I can show him.

Our lips meet again in a rush. At least it feels like that to me, like we just can’t bare being apart anymore. I pour my heart and soul into this kiss. My hands find their way into his hair, his caress and grip every part of my body he can reach. 

Soon I’m pushing him back so I can climb onto his lap. He’s pulled up my nightgown and the cool air feels amazing on my bare legs. I’ve got one foot on the floor and the other is bent at the knee, helping control my balance while I’m grinding on him. 

He keeps pulling me to him, my weight rocking into him, and I brace a hand on the wall in the bay window as he falls further back, keeping me upright. His hands slip under my nightgown, roaming my thighs. I adjust my hips, feeling brave enough to put both hands on his chest to steady me. His suit pants can’t hide how hard he is. I try to use that as a reminder he’s genuinely into me. No matter how many times I’m in his lap, it’s still hard to believe he wants me here. 

“How long till you have to go back?” I ask with controlled breaths. 

He growls. “Just fuck me, baby.” His fingers painfully dig into my hips as he pulls me down, undulating his hips against me. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

There are things I want to blurt out, simple little words swelling in my chest that threaten to ruin everything. 

But if I confess how I feel, it wouldn’t change anything. I’ll still be his prisoner. His possession.

I don’t wanna be an object. I long to be more .

My hands slide up his chest to meet at his neckline, shoving my fingers into the knot on his tie. I don’t bother pulling it all the way off before I go at his buttons, not stopping until his muscled chest and abdomen are revealed. My hips rock, rubbing my pussy over his cock straining to be let free. 

Then I jump up, standing to shimmy my undies to the floor. Thomus sits up and shrugs off his suit jacket, pulling off his tie completely. I pause, waiting to return to my seat, but then he looks at me, his eyes raking me up and down. 

“I want that off,” he says, referring to the only article of clothing I have left. 

I struggle not to make a face, because I still have a hard time being completely naked in front of him. If we were in bed, that would be different. This just feels too exposed.

I grip the material around my hips and step toward him. “Take it off for me?” I ask.

Lust-filled eyes lock on mine and his hands go to my thighs, sliding them up my sides, taking the gown with them. I raise my arms to help him pull it off the rest of the way and a blast of cool air from the window makes goosebumps rise all over me. It sends a shiver through my body and my nipples harden.

When my arms are free, I step even closer and cup his face, pressing my lips to his. I kiss him softly, from one corner of his mouth to the other. While I distract his mouth with sweet kisses, one hand takes off my glasses and the other goes to his belt.

Of course, I can only use one brain cell at a time, so my mouth becomes distracted when I struggle with undoing his belt. I just pull my mouth away all together so I can get a visual on my hands. I glance up at Thomus’ face to find his heated gaze focused on mine. 

“Sorry,” I mutter, looking down at the matter at hand. “Not very sexy, I know.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” he says and inhales sharply when my hands finally wrap around his swollen cock. My palms glide up and down gently before giving it a firm squeeze. My thumb circles his head, spreading a bead of pre-cum, and he leans forward, lips and tongue tracing a path from my neck to my breasts. One of his big hands cups my breast and when he immediately bites down on my nipple, I gasp and whimper. His tongue soothes away the pain, swirling around the stiff peak. 

His other hand slides down my thigh, fingers feeling the dimples and divots until they hook behind my knee. My hands go to his shoulders for balance as he lifts my foot until it’s on the bench. His fingers quickly glide back up my thigh, this time underneath it to where it’s most sensitive and softest. 

Thomus’ lips release my nipple and he pulls back enough to see my face. “I think you’re very sexy,” he murmurs. “From this pretty little pussy of yours” - his fingers glide through my folds, teasingly spreading the slipperiness from the center to my clit - “to those lips I just can’t seem to get enough of.”

His thumb presses in on my clit and my train of thought struggles to stay on track. “You’re pretty hot too,” I say breathily. “You’ve got these shoulders and thighs and hands that just -” My words are cut off by a moan when he slips two fingers inside me.

“That just what?” he teases, unmistakably smug. 

It takes me a moment to answer because his thumb in combination with his fingers curling against my g-spot have my hips rocking and my brain turning to mush. My breaths come in short pants and my eyes are pinched closed, focused on riding the pleasurable waves his fingers are orchestrating. 

“Concentrate, darling,” he presses. “Answer me.”

“Hands,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders, “hands that do terrible… awful things to me.”

His fingers turn aggressive, pressing harder and rhythmic as he hums in approval. “That’s a good girl.”

His lips return to my nipple and that pushes me past the point of no return. A stream of curses and Thomus’ name tumble from my mouth. My toes curl and my body goes stiff as my orgasm washes over me. Thomus slows his long fingers, but still presses in hard on my g-spot as my pussy pulses around him.

When I can finally breathe again, I push at Thomus’ shoulders and he leans back, bringing his drenched digits up to his mouth. He groans at my taste and resituates himself on the bench, pushing his pants and briefs past his thighs. I’m still dazed from my orgasm when Thomus pulls me on top of him. He holds his cock at the base and guides me until he’s sliding home, deep inside my pussy. 

“Oh fuck,” I moan, my eyes closing. This position never fails to put him as deep inside as possible, and if I really sit on his lap, he’s hitting my cervix. But that would be painful, so instead I move my hips around slowly, figuring out what angle works best and won’t kill my thighs. One particular move makes him groan and my eyes flutter open to find his locked intently on me, watching my body move. I definitely found the right one.

I start to go a little faster, a little harder. I have a hand on a window pane and the other grasping his shoulder to stabilize me. My thighs are burning, but the pain isn’t enough to make me stop. He’s inside me, and I love being connected like this. What I feel for him never feels more real than it does in moments like this. When I can’t be in denial.

With the increasing intensity of my hips, little whimpers start to tumble from my mouth alongside my panting. My bottom lip is nailed between my teeth and as I can feel my orgasm hurtling towards me, fuck is the only word coming out of my mouth. 

Whenever he feels they could use more attention, his hands never fail to stray to my breasts. Supporting them as they bounce and sway, leaning forward to kiss and nibble at my nipples. 

“So fucking beautiful,” I hear him grind out above the steady and erotic sound of our bodies joining. 

My orgasm is close - so, so close. I’m starting to go crazed, desperate to cum again. Thomus is, too. I can hear it in his voice as he groans.

“Baby, I need you to cum on me.” His voice is strained like he’s in utter agony. 

I let out a frustrated whimper as I pause to grind on his lap, hoping for an angle that hits my clit. 

“I need - can you - ?” I gasp out. 

I don’t even have to finish my sentence before his fingers wiggle in under my belly. My pussy’s so slippery, the pads of his fingers find the hood of my clit and press in, rubbing it in circles. My hips jerk, bouncing up and down on his cock, continuing even as my orgasm finally crashes over my body. I throw my head back as my back arches. His body stiffens below me as he cums, groaning out his pleasure.

“Beautiful darling, well done,” he pants with praise after we both have a chance to breathe, his voice shaking. “I lov-”

Thomus is abruptly cut off by loud banging on his door.

We both jump like we’ve been hit. There’s a moment where our eyes meet and I see panic cross his face just as it does on mine. 

“Thomus!” a familiar man’s voice calls from beyond the door. 

Thomus blinks, his expression hardening. He brings a finger up to his lips, warning me to be quiet. “Closet,” he whispers. “Go. Now.”

Nodding, my legs are like jelly as I push myself off of him. He’s hastily throwing on his suit as I bend to scoop up my nightgown and undies. I dash for the closet. It’s dark enough I can just hide behind the open door. Instead of the nightgown though, I opt for my pants and hoodie. Plus a pair of Thomus’ socks while I’m at it because mine are lost in the sheets somewhere.

While I’m desperately dressing, the man at the door calls for Thomus again. “Where have you been, Thomus? I’ve been sent to fetch your ungrateful ass.”

I squeeze behind the closet door to peek through the crack between the hinges just as Thomus strides to the door. He’s fully dressed and smoothing back his hair with his fingers. He pauses to take a deep breath before opening the door. 

It’s Rodolphus. 

“What do you want,” Thomus demands, sounding amazingly composed.

Rodolphus leans a hand on the doorframe. “You missed your brother’s toast,” he says, a mocking lilt to his tone. His hair is disheveled, the tie to his tux hangs loose around his neck. “How could you have missed this moment to show support for the Dark Lord? Your family? ”

“I don’t answer to you,” Thomus says. He keeps his back straight and his chin up.

Rodolphus puts a finger to his chin, tapping it. “And then I remembered a few other times you’ve mysteriously disappeared from similar events,” Rodolphus continues before abruptly shoving past Thomus into the room. Thomus tries grabbing his coat tails, but he somehow avoids him.

Rodolphus stops in the middle of the room, eyeing it while slowly turning back to Thomus. He inhales heavily through his nose and steps back towards the window with the bench. “A moment ago, I was convinced you were up here fucking my wife,” he says casually. He reaches for something on it and my anxiety explodes in my chest the moment I see him pick up my glasses. “Of course, I was only half-right. This room reeks of sex, but my wife has never hid.”

Rodolphus drops my glasses and stomps on them with his shoe, crushing my lenses under his sole. The glass crunches as he turns, backing up towards the closet. Thomus watches him with furious eyes. His hands are empty, but I know in the blink of an eye he’d have his wand.

“I’m surprised you can still get it up for her since her… accident ,” Rodolphus taunts. “She’s utterly repulsing if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Thomus bites.

He’s so close to the closet. My fingers feel for anything on the shelf behind me and immediately feel the unmistakable smooth metal of Thomus’ shoehorn, the very one I tried to pummel him with. 

Maybe New Year’s Eve kisses are good luck.

I raise it over my head as he steps to the doorway.

“Your silence is very telling,” Rodolphus chuckles as he slowly steps into the closet. I hear his footsteps on the wood floor as he disappears on the other side of the door.

I’ve shoved my anxiety down enough so I don’t panic as he reappears, wand scanning the room.

Just as he turns to me, I transfigure the shoehorn into a dagger, and hold it up to his throat.

[mintmoth]

OKAY I'm gonna do a big ask response here! There's a few I didn't grab which are mostly just people saying sweet things- to which honestly I can't thank you all enough 😭 it's so wild to me to see people enjoying my art so much

I'm gonna keep most of the replies under the cut since it's gonna get a bit long but I wanted to touch on this one real quick-

Absolutely anyone is free to use my art as an icon wherever! Just be sure to have something crediting somewhere and yeah absolutely go for it!

OH ALSO my submissions don't work on mobile for some reason? The formatting messes up I guess, but check out this awesome coloring!! I love how the layers of shading look 😭

LMAO okay so I've seen a good handful of older/mafia au designs for Floyd and Jade and a lot of them have either both of them with double sleeves or Floyd with sleeves and Jade with a back piece- though I've also seen somewhere both of them having one sleeve on the opposite side

Right now I'm just messing around so I don't have any official tattoo designs for either of them, but I do know I want Floyd with at LEAST the double sleeves, and Jade with some pieces he keeps hidden by mostly wearing business attire lmao

XBSISNK THANK YOU 😭😭 honestly drawing hair is one of my absolutley FAVORITE things to draw lmao, most of my ocs have long hair I just can't help it honestly

YES ABSOLUTLEY probably not too often but I could definitely see Azul going to bed and waking up to a very full bed lmao. Funnier yet because I think all three of them are the type to cling in their sleep when they have someone else beside them. They're just weird sea creatures used to small comfy spaces

I actually haven't thought about this! Honestly I think that would be really cool! Or even if he found that he had a specific shade range of color blindness as a human- though I could see Jade and Floyd taking advantage of that by doing something like giving him the wrong color shirt to wear that day or something lmao

Though you also reminded me! Eels also have terrible eyesight! So I've seen people both having the headcanon that the twins wear contacts, and also the headcanon that Azul needs glasses now because he did a deal to give part of his vision to both of them

Honestly it's really cool to think about! I don't know which headcanons here I like the most, but I love seeing them

Okay honestly I absolutley have to draw this because I LOVE this idea and part of why I'm answering this is to mentally catalogue that I need to draw this lmao

I also love this idea! Like at lunch, after classes before they go to work at the lounge, and after the lounge closes up for the night it just becomes the twins' gossip hour lmao

Because yeah they do spend a lot of time together, but they're still apart a lot, and there's no way they're not telling each other about all the nonsense they're getting up to once they meet back up

DBSISNSK DONT CRY LMAO I got a handful of questions about Niles I want to try to touch on here

Absolutley he wouldn't mind helping anyone set up games on their computer lmao, especially if it's a hard to get visual novel that he's a fan of because he's the type to want everyone to play and love the games he loves

He's definitely dropped hundreds of hours into "creature crossing" with one of those islands with tons of customization and cute shit, and his "island creatures" are mostly cats with a couple dogs and the pegasus LMAO

Also while he's not directly inspired by any specific character, since he's in Ignihyde he does have a little Greek mythos theming and has some inspiration from Eros, which is also why he's very "love" themed/romantic

OH MAN I'm actually not 100% sure which moray I think the twins would be, I'd have to look more into them specifically

But I did want to mention that my idiot self is tempted to make Yet Another Oc (though I probably won't post this one since I feel very oc heavy already) that's also a moray- but specifically a snowflake just because wow I want to make a design around the coloration they have 😭

ALSO!!! Regarding Eel Anon!

I wasn't able to screenshot everything you sent but it was absolutley fun hearing about the dorm idea you have!! I love hearing about new dorm concepts and I've seen a couple nightmare before christmas dorms so it's neat to see the different ideas people have! Also no way do Eri and Rika sound like knock offs of the twins lmao they both sound really fun and I like how they juxtapose one another- also how you have their whole family worked out??? It just reminded me I need to do some more backstory work for my group lmao but honestly it was really cool reading about them so don't even worry about long asks or anything!

[minty-tea-soup]

Doors and Stargazing

First Post for AU-gust Ringduo things.

This is part of the DnD!AU. Not my best writing but still fun.

“Why don’t you use your Soup Shrine ever? Sometimes there will be a little note forming at the Library, the start of the stay but its never long or cohesive. We can make it better for you? What isn’t good-” Tea cut off Minty’s rambling chitters with their own concern, “I didn’t realize that it meant that much that I wasn’t staying the night in them. I cleaned it and kept it nice just don’t want to get trapped in there overnight.” “Trapped? It doesn’t trap you. It gives you a break from the world so that you don’t burn out. Allows time to not worry, to consider and have to rest. Being able to add to the Library is a bonus,” Minty was now actively looking around the Shrine as if it was broken. Pulling the well maintained door back and forth, checking how it sat in the frame. Then moving on to check all the windows as well. “The door locks at night. Can’t get out.” Minty stopped looking at the different points that lead to the outdoors and turned back towards Tea. A look of confusion and his ears flattened in displeasure before going inside and checking the hearth where the yellow and green fire burned away happily. After poking at the hearth a couple times Minty let out a little distressed call. Tea followed hesitantly into the Shrine worry poking at their brain, what was so wrong about wanting to sleep under the stars? Or wanting to experience the dark and quiet that came with the night? “You never stayed long enough for gifts?” Minty’s reflective eyes showed Tea their own confusion reflected back across the different angles contorting like a fun house mirror. “I didn’t want to owe anything.” “But you cleaned! You have helped resupply food. Oh this won’t do. I am going to sleep here tonight and try to talk to Sun God about what to do.”

And that’s what he did as Tea made a small camp outside to watch the stars. The door locking the two from each other. But at the first light of dawn Minty came out with a hammer and a couple other tools that he definitely did not have the night before. Without waking Tea who was sleeping peacefully he started to break the door off the hinges. Not a quiet task. BANG! Tea shot up ready to fight a threat to see the desecration of the Soup Shrine from Minty. Minty who had told them once about how Sun God only ever held malicious for those destroyed its creations: Shrines, people, the Library, it’s woods. And here it’s favored Cleric, someone who would eventually be enveloped and stitched into the fabric of what made Sun God itself was destroying one. Was this because Tea didn’t like the door? Was Minty really throwing away their entire future, one they loved so much, for a fucking door?! BANG! “Oof sorry didn’t mean to wake you up but these last couple bolts didn’t want to come out,” Minty apologized as they picked up the door and moved it off to the side, “Spoke with Sun God last night and we agreed that while a Shrine without a door gives more fuzzy vague stories it is more important that the Shrine is somewhere you feel safe. It sadly means it can’t give anymore boons or gifts but that’s fine. It will still hold the protective charms, just a bit looser. It shouldn’t hold you in at night now. That was the problem right?” Tea just nodded and watched as the door that was now being broken down, hardware stripped off before the heavy ash was being broken into chunks. Then feed into the fire inside. “There we go,” Minty smiled, this weird bare of teeth that would have been more malicious looking if her tail wasn’t bopping back and forth. “Why? Won’t Sun God be mad?” Tea was trying to hide the worry but couldn’t help drawing their cloak tighter as if the sun itself might look down and burn them both like the bugs they were.

“No of course not. I got full blessing. Sun God is the god of Creation. Sometimes Creation is change. While Sun God tends to be the Constant Creation so less regressive change and more building and growing change sometimes erosion is still change. A lot of people misunderstand. They hear ‘God of Creation’ and think that Sun God made the world. No. Some other god or gods made the world. Breathed it into being. But then they made a fire to help it thrive. They called that fire the Sun and it looked upon this wonderful place they were born to protect and help guide growth to. And they grew from that. They aren’t always in the Sun anymore. Sometimes but often they are in the Library now. They want people to make art, to feel safe, to invent new machines, to protect, to build wonders and places to grow. And then they want the stories, to hear about your day and all that inspired you. To slowly take that story from you and sew it into itself so that it may have a little bit of you in it always. That’s what I will be eventually. Another patch in the wondrous quilt that is all.” Minty’s gestures were wide and excited as she opened one of the chests and pulled out some food tucked away for travelers. Other things Tea didn’t often touch, even if they did help replenish. “But why if you want to experience the world would you stay inside at night? Why not explore that wonder?” Tea questioned, imagining a world in which they would have never pondered or stared in the Void. “What can I see at night that I cannot see under the Sun?” “The Stars. The quiet. The Void, though that is less seen and more of an existence.” “Will you stay with me to experience it? I would like to take the story back for Sun God.” “Of course.”

And so they waited. Tending to the plants around the Soup Shrine, cleaning the windows and sanding over the area that would make someone believe that there ever was a door. Because now this Soup Shrine never had a door. After all if it had a door it couldn’t fulfill it’s purpose of being a Soup Shrine for Tea. And then Dusk arrived. Minty’s fur was puffing up a little in fear trying to smooth it back down with thin hands. Their antennae upright and terrified. Then the stars started to show. No moon tonight, Tea noted but that was fine because there was so many stars. Filling the sky and telling stories that no one could hear, unless they knew the language and where to listen. But there was another light a soft glow coming just from Tea’s right. Turning they saw Minty looking up at the stars in the wonder, experiencing the night sky for the first time in her entire life. And that tail that always looked so strange and hallow in it’s white exoskeleton was glowing a soft green. Just a little before fading and starting again. Minty hadn’t even noticed this change but Tea was delighted to learn this new fact about their friend. Nudging them gently they gestured to the tail. Minty’s eye stared at their own tail as if they had never seen this before. A new wonder to add to the Library.

[sooshii]

Nice to meet you!

I'm new to blog posting and social media in general (I know - What kind of rock have you been living under, Sooshii???) During my research going down all sorts of rabbits holes on where to interact with other fic-writers, I came across tumblr. Now me being the shy sushi roll that I am, I internally screamed for a good few days, weeks, months before working up the courage to finally get this ball rolling.

In case you can't tell, I'm a shy bean. I'm also not a minor, but I won't divulge my age - please respect ♡ The internet is a scary place after all!

So with all that said, a bit about myself! :)

Pronouns:

she/her

Fandoms:

Currently writing: FFVII - multi relationship oc AU fandom Reading: Hazbin Hotel, MHA, DAI, FFXIV, Avatar, One Piece, HP, AOT, JJK, multiple Villainess ones to list, and a couple Trails ones. I'm always searching for new ones to obsess over hueeeee And I read too many pairings to list...

Interests/Hobbies:

Reading! I read too many books and fandoms to count. My current fixation is all things FFVII but other fandoms I enjoy are listed above - however the rest of the list is way too long to toss on here so take what is listed as a "this is only a few". And my ships! Oh my ships... Vary from all ranges of characters ahhh I'm such a simp especially for the bad guys huuuueeee :'D

Writing! I write too! I recently started rewriting my first AU fic from a few years back. I'm hoping as I get more confident in myself, I can even branch out to other stories. I'll probably start posting little updates here every now and then when chapters get posted ^_^ My AO3 if you wanted to check my stuff out :) There's too many pairings, lore, world building, angst, fluff, and character tormenting ideas I have floating around in my head to count <o> Yes, I love to make my characters suffer. I'm a bit of a sadist that way -cackles- :3

Drawing! I draw and sketch a lot too. Someday soon you'll see a few of my little doodles floating around... when I get the courage to post them for the world to see. Shy bean, remember? :p

Cats! I own the sweetest little voidbean ever. She is my pride and joy. I absolutely love and adore black cats! Other cats are adorable too, but black cats are the light in my deep, dark, evil little soul mwahaha -ahem- I mean they're super cute :)

Anyways, please drop by, say hell, shoot me a polite message to chat, request a silly doodle - whatever you'd like within reason!

It's amazing to meet you and I hope to see you around!