#you have no idea how much it pained me to get rid of their facial scar

[raiiny-bay]

everyone say hi to cricket

Interviewer: Can you state your name and age please? Cricket: Cricket... 19. Interviewer: [whispering] Look into the camera. Interviewer: And what's been happening to you, Cricket? Cricket: ...I'm... mutating. Interviewer: Can you show us what you mean? Cricket: ... Cricket: ... Okay. [Cricket holds his hand towards the camera]

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hai there, i was wondering if you could do a mandalorian x male child reader?

Can the male reader be a foundling and Mando finds us or something like that?

Like Mando is becomeing some sort of father figure?

If not, that's totally fine too!

I love your storys!!!

Din Djarin with a foundling pantoran reader

Headcanons

I can’t remember any of the Mandalorian language *scrunches up in pain*. Reader is Pantoran, cuz hehe blue and yellow tattoos.

Din would find you when he’s out on a bounty, sometime after he’s given Grogu to Luke. This means Din is still feeling extra raw and empty, lacking some purpose with his life other than just Bounty hunting, since he’s realized there’s more to life.

Imagine his surprise, when his latest bounty, some slave trader, is already down for the count when he arrives. Din quickly finds you, in all your blue skinned, yellow facial tattooed glory, glaring and barring your teeth like a wild Tooka.

In the beginning he doesn’t know what to do with you, since you end up telling him you have no one to go back too, since your parents sold you for being an affair baby. It aches in his heart to see someone so young, already so jaded by the world.

He might have already grown attached the moment he saw you, but he’s not gonna force any adoption or anything. But before either of you know it, you’ve wormed your way into his life and are living with him on his ship.

Boba and Fennec are in no way surprised when Din arrives on Tatooine with you following him like a baby duckling. They both have a good laugh when you launch yourself feet first towards an assassin though, both deciding if Din won’t take you, they will.

Because of your time as a slave, you have a hard time trusting, and Din doesn’t wanna force it. So, he gives you all the time you need to get comfortable. He definitely doesn’t start silently crying under his helmet when you fall asleep against his side for the first time.

He ends up changing up the interior of his ship so you can fit, giving you your own seat and bunk area, and making sure things you might need are in reach.

Din doesn’t realize he’s pretty much already adopted you in everything but adoption vow, until Boba points it out to him one day. Boba points out how Din has already given you a few armor pieces in durasteel and has been training you in the Mandalorian fighting styles.

Din becomes flustered and embarrassed, and mumbles something about not wanting to force it. Turns out, you don’t want to force it either because you still fear he will get rid of you like your first parents.

After some fighting, you sneaking along for bounty hunting, you almost dying because of this, and Din having to save you, you guys finally accept how much you have come to care.

Din ends up asking if you would be okay with being adopted by him, to join his small clan with Grogu, and to be his child. You tear up, and at first Din thinks it because you are so against the idea. But then you sob out a yes and cling to him, mumbling how you wanted nothing more than to have a family.

Din speaks the Mandalorian adoption vows, and he can now finally take his helmet off around you, as you are his child and that is the way.

You end up looking into the meanings of Pantoran tattoos with Boba and Fennecs help, and add to your already existing ones to show your clan and Mandalorian ways, as you are now Mandalorian.

Din takes you to meet Grogu, if you haven’t already met him, even if its just over a call or video chat. Grogu is extremely excited to have an older sibling, but also pouty that he cant go with you guys on adventures or get his own armor until he’s of age for his species.

You start getting your own armor as you get older. Its up to you if you follow the way, of never removing your helmet or not, Din just wants you to be happy and healthy and will support you either way.

If you meet Dins former clan, you always make sure to kick Paz in the ankles or the back of the knees (he’s still alive to me, idc idc), because he wronged your father in your eyes. You always end up roughhousing with Paz’s kid, the two of you beating on each other like Mandalorian kids do.

Because of your age Din slows down with his bounty hunting, and does smaller and less dangerous contracts, because he doesn’t wanna leave you without a parent. He’s definitely set up something with Boba and Fennec, that they’ll take care of you if he were to pass, just in case.

When you get older he takes you along with him, helping you become the kinda person you wanna be. If you end up wanting to be a bounty hunter, he’s the best trainer there is, and if you wanna be something completely different, he will find someone who can teach you.

Din is a tad bit overprotective, even as you grow older, its in his blood and he can’t help it. He just wants his kid to be safe and happy, and can’t bear the thought of you being hurt even though Din knows that’s just the way of the galaxy.

But no matter what, Din is a very loving father, even though he is a little awkward and tense in the beginning. He would do anything for his kid, and if you were ever in danger or kidnapped, he’s ready to destroy the entire galaxy to get you back.

[arabella-s-arts]

Watched the new atla show. And now I will share my thoughts because I need to put them somewhere.

I agree with people that it kind of fell flat. More like an impersonation than the actual show. Also, people are right, where is Katara's rage? I'm not going to dive into it, because people already have, but Katara is stubborn and righteous, so where'd they put those qualities?

I wish the show would stop telling us everything. Like, stop telling me that Ozai thought finding the Avatar would be impossible, and sent Zuko on this quest anyway. I know, it's obvious. I don't need to be told the subtext, that's why it's subtext. Subtality could do this show a world of good.

Zhao's death sucked. It was perfect how it was in the original, it showed Zuko's kindness, and Zhao's hubris being his downfall was perfect. Also, this isn't necessarily a complaint, just something I noticed, Zhao feels different in the show. A guy with similar aspirations and ideas, yes, but not the same guy we all hate.

The acting wasn't always the greatest, but I can't tell if it's actually the actor's fault or script (probably script).

I wish Sokka was involved in the Jet plotline, he played a big part in it originally, and it really showed his true character.

Why did Katara and Aang never get any actual training in Northern Water Tribe? That's what they were there to do. Somehow, magically Katara became a master waterbender, because she what? Believed in herself? That's not how learning a skill works. Imagine trying to learn the flute, you're confident, and you figured out on your own how to play a few notes. But you still need someone to teach you the rest of the notes, how to trill, how to read the sheet music, etc. You can't learn everything just from confidence.

The costumes bothered me so much. Sokka and Katara's coats looked so light weight, which is probably more comfortable for the actors, but those coats could not shield you from a light breeze, much less a frozen tundra. Also someone pointed out that their clothes don't actually look worn, and they're right.

What on earth was the scarf scene? Why was it there? What was the point? I am not a Zutara shipper (though I have no hate for the shippers, just dislike for the ship), and now online is just going to be posts about that.

Was Suki just not wearing her warrior make-up because she had to kiss Sokka? Either way, it's still upsetting. The one time she doesn't wear her warrior make-up (which is an honor to wear) is when she's finally in a real fight, and on the day Kyoshi shows up too. Also, no Sokka wearing warrior make-up? I get if they couldn't fit it in, but it's still a bit sad.

I don't understand them getting rid of the fact that Aang ran away, I think it really makes his character more complex as he struggles to take on the responsibilities of the Avatar.

They sorta switched Sokka and Katara's roles in the Omashu tunnels, which I don't get.

Having Zuko fight Ozai in the Agni Kai was a terrible idea.

I'm sorry to say this, because I don't like Zuko being in pain. But Zuko's scar is smaller and a lot more understated than in the animation. I don't know much about burnt tissue, or how it will scar, especially with their technology. But we rarely see heroes with facial scars beyond a line through the eye or something, I don't want it taken away. The scar doesn't even seem to reach his ear. And I'm sad about them confirming his sight was fine. Zuko with some hearing and vision loss is technically just a headcanon. But then why did Zuko only leave his unscarred side up when sleeping around people he didn't trust in the animated version?

I could tell that Aang was airbending during it, so it wasn't really flying. But it's a little too similar, especially considering how significant flying is in Korra.

The thing that bothered me the most was Yue's death. Why was it barely acknowledged?! Yue made a huge sacrifice, but instead we're making up a plotline that causes Aang to have the spotlight instead. And when Sokka was talking to Arnook about Yue, somehow the conversation became focused on Sokka, and his insecurity, instead of someone they both deeply miss (though Sokka and Yue's relationship development could've been better). Sokka is joking around again by the end of the episode, it feels like her death never happened! And why make her a fish! No offense to fishes, but it feels less impactful, and in the original, we could see how Yue was able to keep some of herself alive in the way she presents herself as a spirit, she doesn't do that here.

Some things I liked:

Zuko being upset about Aang stealing his journal.

Sokka and Suki had really good chemistry (though, the show doesn't really give us a reason why Suki likes him, she seems annoyed with him when they first meet).

The effects were good, and I liked a lot of the fight scenes.

Kyoshi.

Oma and Shu being lesbians.

That one lady hitting Zuko for trying to hurt Aang.

Suki being awkward and beating up the guy she likes.

I am impressed with how they were able to overlap some story lines. That must have been difficult to figure out.

The sets.

Azula.

[helloliriels]

You Think It Would Look Better On You?

by helloliriels - wish fulfillment for anon @ofpiratesanddragonslayers prompt: here ... not because I'm into facial hair myself, but because the members of my family cannot grow facial hair either :) haha, enjoy!

Sherlock stood staring at the mirror ... willing his facial hair to grow ...

Sure, he had never really needed to shave, and had never really thought about it before ... but ... surely he could grow a beard if he wanted to?

He puzzled over his own hairless state and determined to go to the internet for solutions.

'Shave regularly, and hair folicles will be encouraged to grow'

Was this the whole, get a haircut if you want longer hair theory? Absolute nonsense ... but, was it?

Sherlock was desperate.

He lathered up, grabbing John's razor with confidence, then with a somewhat unsteady hand ... began shaving.

"Getting rid of the peach fuzz, eh?" John jovially teased on his way past the loos.

Sherlock's hand shook, and he nicked himself. Wincing at the sharp pain. A drop of blood pressed to the surface and he spent a few minutes fighting with it to stop.

... It didn't help that John had been sporting a fantastically distracting red beard and mustache of late. Carefully grooming it each morning, until Sherlock thought he would go mad!

The only solution must be to grow one himself! Since he certainly COULD NOT reach out and start caressing John's ... !!

He sighed. Now his face was smoother ...

This voodoo better work!

"Sherlock?" John's voice puzzled from the kitchen, "what's this?"

Sherlock's heart skipped a beat, as he realised John must must've just come up from grabbing the post!

He jumped over and snatched the parcel away from John's surprised hands before the man could so much as shake it. Then raced to his room, and shutting the door behind him ... stared at the box in wonder.

At last!

Sherlock did shake it. Feeling the enormous weight of this ridiculous decision.

He would be mortified if John found out!

MANS was labeled on the plain box, but nothing else. He was grateful for the discreet packaging to hide his own venture into tinctures and potions to restore hair growth.

He rarely indulged in late-night telly, but couldn't resist when he saw the ad on during John's last Doctor Who binge ... because, what if it worked??

CONTINUED BELOW THE CUT ...

"Sherlock?" John asked casually as he was having breakfast across the table.

"Hmm?" the detective managed to mumble over checking the text on his phone from Lestrade. Geoff had no more ideas than Sherlock on how to actually get hair to grow again. He had already tried a few 'old wives' remedies, and this morning experimented on a chemical combination of his own ...

Sherlock texted him back with a sigh, to forget the whole business ... and then looked up to see John staring at him. Worried.

"Sorry," Sherlock coughed, unable to look long at John's glorious beard, for fear he would lose his resolve and just touch it ...

He tried for casual in his reply. "Did you say something, John?" he went back to attempting to eat his toast. Not looking up.

"Sherlock, look at me?" John asked, and John's hand was suddenly touching his own, pressing the toast away from his open mouth ...

Sherlock blinked.

Looking up to stare into John's deep blue eyes. Concerned.

"Is something the matter Sherlock?" John asked.

Sherlock squirmed in his seat. How had John found out? Had he said something out loud? While he was thinking? He scratched at his face.

Now John was standing up. Coming over. Sherlock blinked. John was kneeling beside him and ... getting closer ...

Sherlock closed his eyes.

John was touching his face.

Warm hands brushed along his jawline and cheek. Even touched the sensitive skin near his lips ...

"Sherlock, are you putting something topical on your face? ..." John was breathing so close to him ... eyes ... caressing him ...

Sherlock kept his own closed. Not daring to even turn and look.

"Does it hurt, Sherlock?" John asked now, the tone of his voice turning very doctor-patient, "... cause it looks, kinda red? and ... irritated?"

Sherlock's eyes flashed open. Staring at John then jumping up, brushing past him to check in the mirror. Christ! He was turning red as a beet on the lower half of his face ... almost becoming purple as he watched in horror!

"Here, wash with this - and maybe put some aloe on it?" John startled him, handing Sherlock some lotion. Carefully reaching up with a soft damp cloth to wipe at his face.

Sherlock jumped back, roughly swiping the cloth out of his hand. Barely a moment to think and to thank him, rudely - as he shoved him out of the bathroom to wipe his own face off, thank you!

The red, irritated skin mocking him as hot tears streamed from each eye. Mingling with the soap and the warm water ... stinging where the skin was tender to the touch.

Sherlock kept himself quiet as he leaned back against the sink, put his head in his hands, and cried.

Three months of self-torture. And not a single hair!

They didn't talk about it.

.

Sherlock had tossed out all of the pills. The potions. The lotions. The new razors. The various veggies and herbs and spices and oils that were all supposed to help encourage hair growth.

And then Sherlock sulked.

He shouldn't have hesitated a second longer with the Chinese wolfberries ... they had cost a small fortune ... but eventually those went too.

John had tossed them all.

John knew.

.

Sherlock made sure to keep himself occupied and inaccessible the entirety of the evening.

The violin was the last resort. Every time John had tried to speak, Sherlock had begun screeching on the instrument, until John gave it up and went to his room.

Smug in his handling of the situation, Sherlock began to play something besides wretched noises. Letting his mind wander as the music took him where it wanted ...

... he did not even realise what he was playing ...

Until he heard the upstairs door. John's door. Open. A crack.

And he slowly registered the tune he had composed after the meeting with The Woman had made him realise his feelings for John.

... Damn.

.

He heard a tiptoe of feet on the stairs.

Not wanting the argument of his involvement with am admitted lesbian (for the 58th time!) to resume; Sherlock opted to simply set the instrument down and take himself off to bed.

He shut the door, creeping into his covers and switching off the light.

Then felt his mind hovering on the stairs.

Listening

For the creak of steps.

Hearing.

A soft pad of stockinged feet.

Tingling.

In his spine.

As those steps made their way to his door.

.

Sherlock held his breath.

Held his heart from bursting and breaking, as it raced in his chest.

Held his mind from assuming or presuming anything could be possible ... but ...

John Watson was opening his door.

Was brazenly entering his room.

Was standing by his bed.

"I know you're not asleep."

Sherlock could hear John's folded arms, as if he had announced his stance in the words he chose to say ...

"And I know you've been trying to grow a beard."

Sherlock coughed and tried to not turn his head in any way as he attempted to see what John was wearing ...

"And I just want to know, why?"

.

This startled Sherlock, and he turned, reflexively. Before catching himself and staring at the ceiling. John was wearing nothing but his boxer briefs!

Sherlock could feel his face creeping red ... and hoped John didn't think he was having another reaction!

"Why, what? John?" Sherlock asked, nonchalantly.

"All of it. Why the song, tonight?" John huffed in exasperation, "why now? Have you been thinking about the woman, again? Was the beard an attempt to go after her? Was it a challenge? Did you think it would look better on you? I'm confused."

"Yes," Sherlock started, catching himself. Shutting up. Shutting his eyes. God, he was an idiot when it came to John Watson!

"Yes, what?" John asked. Hands on his hips.

.

Even with his eyes closed, he could see those hands. See those hips. Wanted to peel off that last remaining barrier between them and take the man standing in his room ...

Sherlock controlled his breathing. Controlled his racing mind. And opened his eyes.

John was still standing there. Waiting.

Looking hurt this time.

"Yes, I thought it would look better on me," Sherlock decided to go for blunt. Since John hadn't connected the dots. Obviously.

John blinked.

Sherlock put it even more bluntly:

"I wanted to grow a beard, so that I wouldn't have to keep feeling this compulsion to reach out and touch yours! To know what you would feel like beneath my hands. TO know every. Aspect. Of you! John Watson!

As if it haven't already been a publicly declared fact, that I am obsessed with you; THAT I LOVE YOU; and everything you do! That I would die for you; Over and over and over again, if asked ... and HAVE!

And yes, I like my doctors clean shaven! When their mustache signifies that they are moving on ... and no longer available to me! And YES, I like my doctors with facial hair; when that hair signifies they are comfortable in their own skin and staying right here, where I WANT THEM to be!

So, YES. In point of fact! I thought it would look better ON ME. I always think you would look better ON ME. I have tried and FAILED for seven years to not out myself. But there you have it. Now let me sleep or get in this bed. Either is fine. I won't repeat myself. But at least, I've said my peace!"

Sherlock turned away and grabbed the sheets around him like a shield. Curling up into a ball as John watched in growing amazement.

The silence ticked on.

.

Sherlock growled.

John was still standing there.

He heard the hesitation.

Heard something soft fall ...

Felt the bed shift.

.

And felt the warm sigh against his back, as his sheet was pulled away and exchanged for the hot press of skin against every inch of his backside.

Sherlock held his breath.

Turning his head just a little to make sure he wasn't dreaming?

He peeked an eye open.

John was smiling at him, gently caressing his bare shoulder as Sherlock turned further ... eyes growing wide with amazement and incredulity as he faced his best friend, his colleague, his blogger ...

"You're right," John replied. Brushing at Sherlock's lips with the pad of his thumb ... He was looking at his beloved idiot with pure adoration in his eyes ... before leaning in and kissing him on the lips. "This would look so much better on you," he said as he pulled back.

Then John peeled the sheets away, and climbed on top of Sherlock ... and proceeded to show him exactly how he could have his beard - miraculously - overnight. 🌙

tagging @johnlocky @fluffbyday-smutbynight @chinike @khorazir @rhasima @rachelkhanh @gaylilsherlock @safedistancefrombeingsmart @chriscalledmesweetie @kettykika78 @masterofhounds @luciengenic @samtheskald @superhollykat @dissolvinggirl @whatnext2020 @melmey @catlock-holmes @i-call-me-clarence @majesticnerdyvee @pocketwatchofmycroft @iamjustreading @heyblinken @br00klynn2428 @momma2boys @not-reallylovelytho @sherlocksmindpalace @vampire-rat-bastard @topsyturvy-turtely @purplevatican @ettuinarcadia @crunchy-nut-cornflakes @glows-n-the-dark @qrsshipper @hasenkind687 @sjamescentre @peageetibbs @marta-bee @writing5ever @topsyturvy-turtely @purplevatican @ettuinarcadia @crunchy-nut-cornflakes @glows-n-the-dark @qrsshipper @hasenkind687 @sjamescentre @peageetibbs @marta-bee

[kittytheartist]

people can leave Teru the fuck alone now

Teru's dialogue and face expressions in chapter 87 was so distraught that even to this day it surprises me how quickly people threw Teru under the rug again?

Teru is a harder character to read sure, but too hard to understand what actually happened in chapter 87?

Teru's eyebrow movement is a huge part to telling his character!

look here, we can see Teru's frustration right? but his right eyebrow is twitched, which is his clear sign of discomfort, annoyance, and overall hurt. Teru here, is completely hurt by the damage Hanako has caused for his already crumbling life, Hanako hasn't just fucked up an innocent livings life span but hurt the people he knows by doing so, Akane's life is ruined, Kou's life will never be the same, Hanako has just been making this worse for Kou. Hanako is completely insufferable and foolish, childish, and all the niave jazz, Teru hates it, can't stand it to be more exact.

and before then his eyebrows stayed quite monotonous, and blunt, he's quite frustrated and concentrated, he wants to get rid of Hanano clearly and has no other objectives at the moment (besides Aoi ofc)

here Teru is satisfied with breaking through Hanako's thick skull, but he's still pissed which we can see in his eyebrow movement and his low smile

but here, after Kou interrupts his fight, he's quite pissy, and his eyebrows tilt downward in the middle only to raise at the top, he's exhausted and is sick of Kou not being able to make up his mind.

here it shows Teru having his eyebrows fully narrowed which is a expression we've never seen him wear before, it's always been his low-key eyebrows like above, so this just goes to show how much pain this has caused for Teru, he's hurt, so confused, Kou has never acted this way before he me Hanako, it's something that Teru will never understand about Kou. it's frustrating for him, Teru is used to knowing, this is all a first, it's something Teru doesn't have the slightest idea on.

here is an even more emotional panel, Teru doesn't have narrowed eyes because he doesn't care, it's because he cares too much, he's deep in thought, his head is cluttered, and most of all he feels betrayed by family. the edge of his mouth in the second panel has a slight curve at the tip while the rest is wanting to shut up, he clearly doesn't want to speak yet he can't stop, having so many emotions he's never expressed before is a lot on a 17 year old. all he wants is to shut Kou up. it's all too much for Teru, but he could never shut Kou up, he's never done that, and didn't even when he himself was crumbling infront of his own brother.

here his lip curls downward and his eyes and eyebrows are out of view here, clearly hiding his own emotions with Kou's and hiding behind Kou, he's clearly trying to hide his face. he's hunched over himself too, he's trying to find somewhere to hide but he's already throwing himself out there. even Teru's grip on his sword and Kou isn't tight from frustration, it's just strained and hurt.

and I'm sure you've noticed from all these images, Teru's eyes are always near a squint and his lashes cover half of his face. which he does when he's about to cry, breakdown, has something on his mind, ect. you get my drift? also a major point to reading his facial expressions, is the strain at the inner edge of his eye.

it's clearly narrowed and we can see the tear ducts trying to dry his eyes, but with what we're seeing, it's barely holding, Teru's eyes are filled with tears, but his first reactions to emotions has never been to cry, but here his eyes are clearly distressed. they're wrinkled near the nose in oppression and distress, we can see the under of his eye puff out from the button lid being drawn in, and the natural reaction to get rid of tears is to blink or squint, his eyes are very strained here, and he's clearly very tired, over worked, stressed and overall doesn't need Kou's shit right now. especially not him going behind his back, Teru showed a sign of trust by letting him come with him, and letting him take care of the Red House himself (not knowing he messed with shit about the past obviously) and completely lost faith in Kou after he gave his trust.

needless to say. Kou wasn't the one who was hurt in chapter 87 it was

Teru.

[silverstarssart]

Aru Shah Incorrect Quotes

Mini: If a coral gets stressed, it dies. So if I were coral, I’d be dead.

Aru: What do coral even get stressed about anyway?

Rudy: Current events.

Mini: Get out.

—————————

Aru: And remember, if you can’t blow them away with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullsh**.

—————————

Brynne: Can we sleep in your room tonight?

Aiden: Why, what happened?

Mini: Well—

Nikita: We played with a ouija board and cursed all of ours.

Sheela: And Aru isn’t much help. She doesn’t know how to banish spirits, so she’s just throwing salt at them and yelling, “Does this look like a hotel to you?!”

—————————

Rudy: Remember, bird-watching goes both ways.

Aiden: That’s vaguely threatening, thank you.

—————————

Nikita: Have I ever told you that you’re bossy?

Brynne: Yes. But then I told you not to tell me that anymore.

—————————

Brynne: Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, and wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. 

Rudy: That's deep. 

Aru: That means that ketchup is a smoothie. 

Rudy: That's deeper. 

Aiden: ...You guys are idiots.

—————————

Aru: I'm usually that person who has no idea what's going on.

—————————

Aru: honk. 

Boo: WHAT. 

Aru: HONK. 

Boo: WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF?????——

—————————

Sheela: Oh what, so only roosters are allowed to start the day with screaming?

—————————

Mini: When you said you’d do magic in bed, this isn’t what I was expe-

Rudy, holding up nine of clubs: Is this your card?

Mini, softly: Holy—

—————————

Rudy, cheerfully: Gonna go start bar fights so I can get a cool facial scar.

Brynne: This one time, we filled a glass forty bottle with gasoline and threw it in the bonfire. It exploded into my face and now I have three not-so cool scars on my face. And two broken teeth.

Rudy: What did you expect to happen?

Brynne: The gods to protect me.

—————————

Urvashi: Describe your most recent leadership role.

Aru: Sometimes at crosswalks I’m the first to jaywalk and everyone starts to follow me.

—————————

Nikita: Do you have any tips on how to get rid of ants?

Sheela: I’m assuming diplomacy has failed.

—————————

Nikita: I matured off pain, not age.

—————————

Boo: That’s it! i’m declaring 15 minutes of silence. everyone just sit down and think about what you’ve done.

Boo: What is that horrible dripping noise?

Brynne: Aiden was stabbed

Boo: WHAT? why wouldn’t you tell me that?

Aru: 15 minutes weren’t over

—————————

Aru: do you guys have happy meals?

McDonald’s employee: uh, yeah

Aru: can i get that without the meal?

Aru: ...please?

—————————

[thehandsresisthim]

Taming Tenko - Part II

Shigaraki Tomura I Shimura Tenko / Female Reader

Part I can be found here

Contains: sub shig, dom reader, low-key women-hating shig, college au, quirk less au, masturbation, shig nuts on readers scarf, cock stepping, shig humping against readers feet, humiliation, overstimulation, shig and reader are having fun playing pretend lol

Before he can help himself, he's rubbing parts of the scarf along his cock - at first it's strange, but the smell of you is so soothing that he finds himself unable to stop.

Amidst whimpers and moans, Tenko blows his load all over the piece of clothing, ruining it.

"m' sorry, mistress..." he whimpers, still deep in his fantasy.

+++

"Hi, Shimura. How's it going? I just wanted to quickly ask you about the project - we still do need to finish it. Would you be interested in meeting up with me? We could meet up at your place, just text me your address and a time."

It's the ninth time he has played your message once again - the voice recording, no matter how mundane it's subject, gets him going like nothing else. You're his pretty miss.

The scarf you gave him was now covered in his seed - it had dried in a few places, making it all crusty, but he still couldn't help using it.

It felt so good - he had never felt a woman's touch before, and this was as close as he could get.

After cleaning himself up a little, he answered your request with an adress and a fitting time, afterwards taking a look around his room and promptly starting to clean it. He did not want his mistress to think he was gross - he put clothing into the laundry basket, got rid of old plates with food on them, vacuumed the floor, replaced his bedsheets with new, clean ones and dusted of surfaces. He had to admit, his room hadn't been this clean for a while. Even when he wasn't pretending to be a dirty pervert, keeping clean was important to him when you came over.

A few hours later, the agreed upon time had come - you had answered him in a text - and he was certain he had never been more nervous.

Tenko hears the doorbell, the sound sending a wave of shock through his body. Finally, you were here.

He walks over to the door, breathing heavily, and quickly lets you walk in.

Fuck, you're so pretty, he can't help but think.

'Shit, shit, shit,' he says in his mind, 'I'm already hard.'

"Hi, Shimura. How's it going?" you say as you take of your coat, a different scarf - Tenko almost whimpers in shame as he is reminded of what he did to your other one, where did he put it again? - and your boots.

"I'm... doing good. And you-u are?" he stutters out, distracted with thinking about whether or not his bulge is visible.

"I'm all good. Cmon, Tenko, let's start working already. Where is your room?"

Tenko? When did you start calling him Tenko. Did this mean that you liked him? You're not helping his erection.

"I- it's this way," he blabbers and starts walking towards his room. You follow suit.

You enter, and he can see the way you look around yourself, taking in his space. He wonders what you think, but is too nervous to ask.

"Oh, Tenko, there's my scarf!", you exclaim, and he's sure he just died inside.

Before he can do anything, you've grabbed the thing, and are holding it in your hands, no doubt feeling how damp and crusty it is in places. He wonders if you'd believe him if he told you that he spilled something on it.

Your facial expression conveys how disgusted you feel quite well.

"What happened here, baby boy? Did you seriously dirty my scarf with your disgusting sperm?"

"I-I... Look, I-"

Quickly, you walk over to the door, close it, and lock it.

Next, your hand is buried in his hair before he can dodge it, and you push him down. He whimpers, and he himself can't tell if it's because he is shocked at your sudden harsh treatment or aroused by it - maybe it's both.

He's kneeling now, right beside your legs.

"Are you seriously hard already? Really, Tenko?"

Your foot is stepping on his cock, and he can't help but buck his hips up against you.

"I- I'm, sowry, I-"

You push down on him, and he let's out a raspy moan. It's all happening so quickly, he doesn't know what to do.

"But, you were- so, nice, to me, so why-" he stutters in confusion.

"Oh, Tenko, at first it was genuine. But then I found out just how disgusting you are."

"But how-" he chirps out in stress.

"Stop whining and take your filthy hands of my scarf, you little whore.", you instruct, and he immediately follows your command, putting it onto the bed right next to him.

"It's really not surprising that a disgusting boy like you is turned on by being humiliated. I already guessed you'd be a masochistic bitch, but when I checked the browsing history on your tablet whilst you were in the bathroom at the Café I got confirmation. A gross little nerd like you should know to delete your browser history, hmm?"

"I... I forgot, I-", he tries to explain, but you interrupt him.

"Of course you did. You can only think with your tiny cock, can't you? Take off your pants and underwear, I want to see just how small you are."

Does this mean that you like him? A big part of him jumps in excitement at the thought. You had to, right? Otherwise you wouldn't ask him to expose himself.

He starts untying the band holding up his black sweatpants, and quickly removes his underwear, all whilst still kneeling down, in hopes of not disappointing you.

You immediately stare at his private parts, and he feels his face get red with shame.

"Wow, Tenko, you're even smaller than I expected." you exclaim loudly, and he hates the way his cock twitched at that. Based on your facial expression, you saw the twitch too.

"Aww, look at you!" you say and use your foot to massage his tiny nub.

He starts humping your foot, gasping for air and moaning once again and you chuckle, then suddenly move your foot up with quite a bit of force.

Tenko reacts deliciously - letting out a strangled scream, and says something you hadn't quite expected - "M-mommy!"

You can't hold in your laughter now.

"Seriously, Tenko? I didn't think you'd be this pathetic."

You can see how the shock over his own words kick in.

"I... I didn't mean, I'm not- it's not..."

"Come on, repeat what you said. Babyboy."

You see the glistening amount of pre dripping down his cock, and the repeated twitch of it at the nickname.

You take to massaging his aching cock with your foot once more, and he starts to buck once again. "Come on, Tenko, say it."

"Mommy... Mommy, need my m...mommy. Please." he whimpers.

You smirk and shove one of your hands into his hair, slowly rubbing.

"Don't stop humping, babyboy."

Tenko sighs at the sensation of your socks against the sensitive skin.

He quickly feels an orgasm coming. Should he tell his mommy? He's not sure. You're mean enough to deny him, but he doesn't think you'd appreciate him dirtying your socks, considering your previous reaction to what he did to your scarf. He ultimately decides to tell you.

"Mommy? I'm, going to-,... cum." he says quietly, averting his eyes.

"So quickly?" you ask.

"I'm sorry - I don't want to... disappoint mommy, but, cock is too, sensitive..."

"Well, you can cum - but you better don't stop humping after." you answer his plea.

Tenko whines after comprehending the instruction, knowing that he can't handle overstimulation all that well. But following mommys commands is more important than his comfort, he decides.

After a particularly sensational hump, he quickly covers your feet in his seed. The noises he makes are nothing short of adorable - a high pitched chirp of "mommy!"

"Don't stop now, little Tenko." you remind him, and as he follows the instructions, he is reminded of why he hates overstimulation.

The confusion of having pleasure and pain mixed is simply too much for him, and before he can think, he has his arms wrapped around your waist, grounding himself through the touch.

He sounds absolutely miserable - high whines and gasping moans escape at a high rate.

"Can you cum again, my little boy? If you do, I'll allow you to take a break." you say, your voice still calm. Tenko notices how much he likes how collected you are whilst he's making a mess of himself.

Eager to fulfill your request, he quickly recovers - taking way less time to orgasm again. This time, it's not as pleasurable - the nerves still burning as a consequence of the overstimulation.

But the way you laugh at his pathetic expression is a wonderful reward.

"Onto the bed, you slut." you say, and he just nods in response, feeling overwhelmed by the fact that he just came two times in the span of roughly 7 minutes. He adores you, and the idea for such a scenario - you were always willing to listen to his ideas, and getting grouped up for a project gave it the tint of realism he loved. He felt lucky to be with you.

He quickly gets himself together - as best as he can - and hops onto his clean sheets.

"You're going to eat me out now, maybe you'll actually have something you're good for, let's find out." you demand and take of your pants.

Tenko sighs at the idea of your thighs surrounding his head as he laps up your juices.

"Yes, mommy," he manages to say, though quietly.

Here's part one!

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.1

Pt.2   Pt.3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, arranged marriage plot, kinda royal au, some fighting, secret relationship, angst.

a/n: This is going to be a six part series. I’ve never done a series before, but I write so much anyway I thought why not make one. I’ll probably upload each part daily unless there is demand for them to come faster. I hope you enjoy. Requests/asks will be open if you wanna send smth to me! Although I will admit I am kinda slow in finishing requests. I have a lot to balance in my life so my apologies if I don’t get to them immediately!  

Word count: 1.8K

Loki x female!reader 

The sun shone through the window of your home, the golden rays warming up your cheeks and waking you from your slumber. Sitting up, you stretched, feeling the sleep vibrate out of your body. Tossing the sheets off your body, you swung your legs out of the bed and walked to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Finishing with tending to the mass of hair on your head you trailed back into your bedroom to change into clothes appropriate for the day. An array of dresses always leaving you indecisive about what to wear.

Settling on an olive green one you walked towards the mirror and fastened the ties around the back of your neck. The loose sleeves draped over your shoulders, cascading down your back, and gold accents adorning the neckline. Finding your shoes, you slipped out of your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and walked down the hallway, the chatter of your family becoming more clear as you near the entrance of the main room. 

 “Good morning, mother. Father.”

It seemed you had slept in quite a bit, given your parents already eating breakfast. Your mother piped up

“There’s a portion left for you on the counter, my dear.”

Eying the food you decided you weren’t all that hungry yet. You had just woken up and your body had yet to settle. Declining, you grabbed your satchel and began to walk towards the door.

“But Y/N, you should really eat something before starting your day.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise. I’m just not that hungry right now. I’ll eat when I get back.”

Finally reaching the door, your father chimed in,

“You know, Y/N, just because you try to avoid the obvious, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away any sooner.”

Dropping your head, you sighed. You couldn’t seem to escape the duties of being a young woman in a world where royal obligations were something you were expected to partake in. Upon reaching the age of 18, you were supposed to be on the lookout for a decent suitor of a husband. The fact of the matter was, you were now approaching 22 and had yet to find someone acceptable, not only by your standards but by your parents. 

For this uniting of peoples would also be a uniting of families. You had until your 21st birthday to find a man suitable to everyone's liking and if you didn’t, arranged marriage was the next option. No one wanted to be known as the woman in Asgard who couldn’t get a man to offer his hand in marriage, yet here you were in all your glory. It was frustrating. 

If only they knew. 

“I know, Dad. Things are a little bit harder when I have to seek my parents' approval for my marriage.”

Your tone became short, frustrated at the entire situation. You already had someone, for a while now actually, but you hadn’t the guts to inform your parents because you knew they would shut him down. So you loved in silence. It was more than painful, not being able to be truly open with your lover, but you had yet to find the right time to pour out your heart to your family. Taking a deep breath, your grounded yourself and turned towards the door,

“I’ll be back later, I love you.”

Your mom got to responding before your father did,

“We love you too dear. Make sure to pay attention to who you’re around. Be safe.”

Smiling lightly you finally walked out the door and stepped into the fresh air that was Asgard. It never got old. The scent of the trees and freshwater that surrounded this place sent one into such serenity. Just being outside could allow your mind to drift elsewhere and forget about the troubles in your life. Walking as far as you could from your home you spaced out in the direction you were going. 

Coming back to when you accidentally kicked a pebble across the ground. Looking up you found yourself in one of the many gardens that surrounded Asgard. Walking to a marble bench, you scrunched up some of your dress in your hands, folding one leg under you before sitting atop it. Crossing your other leg across it and letting the fabric of your dress fall to the ground. 

Pulling your satchel into your lap, you grabbed your journal out of it and began to sketch the garden in front of you. Paying special attention to the detail of the flowers, wanting to make sure you entirely captured the essence of their beauty on paper. Lost in concentration, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a hand rub small circles into your shoulder that you turned around. 

Hair fell in your face, obscuring your view of who was in front of you. Bringing your hand up to place your hair away from your face you dropped your pen on the ground. You went to reach for it, but a separate pair of hands grabbed it first.

“You seem to be quite the mess today, my darling.”

A genuine smile stretched across your features before looking up into the enchanting blue of his eyes. 

“Loki, hi! What are you doing out here?”

Sitting down next to you, careful to avoid your dress he spoke,

“Well, I was informed that a beautiful lady was sitting in the garden in front of the palace so of course, I had to go inspect the situation. And upon seeing a stunning shade of green draped over the bench, I had to introduce myself.” 

An airy laugh left your throat, blithe being showcased across your being.

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you fancy this beautiful woman.”

“How could I not? Her beauty extends beyond the physical. She's incredibly intelligent and the only one to unconditionally show kindness and love to those who deserve it. It’d be incredibly injudicious of me to not be aware of that.”

“Alright, alright Loki, you’ve buttered me up enough.” you chuckled

“It’s never enough, darling. And it’s not buttering you up if it’s true, which it is. So, against your wishes, I shall continue to do it.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. Looking down at his hands, you placed yours on top of his and gazed into his eyes once more. Glancing down to his lips and back up to his eyes, you slowly leaned in, Loki meeting you halfway. A kiss so tender you forgot it was Loki whose lips were tangled in a dance with your own. 

Loki moved his hand out from underneath yours and placed it on your cheek. You pulled away from the kiss and nestled your head into his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek allowing you to relish in the moment of being with each other. Flashing your eyes back up to his you asked,

“Shall we go for a walk?”

“Why not?”

Stuffing your journal and pen back into your satchel you untangled your legs and got up from the bench, Loki helping you stand up so that you didn’t trip on your dress. Taking your hand in his own, you two walked through the garden on a path that would eventually lead you to the entrance of the palace. 

“I’ve missed you Loki. I always miss you, I hate being away from you.”

“I know my love, I do as well, but you of all people know our predicament.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned in haste to stop him as well, making him face you. You brought both your hands up to cup his face, an idea flashing bright behind your eyes,

“Well, maybe we can change it! We can be the change to get rid of this stupid rule. I can’t imagine my life without you Loki. I don’t want to have to share my world with someone else. It’s only ever going to be you.” 

Bringing his hands up to your wrists, he looked deep into your eyes, sorrow and hope swimming behind his facial features. 

“Maybe we can, although we have to prepare for the worst...but that doesn't mean we can’t try.”

Giving a small smile, he moved his hands to the back of your head, thumb caressing your temple, and leaned in to kiss you. Giving you all the reassurance you could’ve asked for. Pulling away from each other you continued down the path hand in hand. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, serenity washing over you. 

Opening your eyes, you realized you were closing in on the front of the palace meaning you would now be in the public eye and the last thing you wanted was more gossip to fall upon you. Looking at your lover, you stopped walking, halting him in his tracks. Forcing him to turn around and look at you.

“What is it?”

You sighed, suddenly being overcome with emotion.

“Well, if we walked any further, everyone would see us and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you…”

“...Trouble? For me?”

Loki scoffed, his signature smirk following.

“Love, all I’m known for is for causing trouble, I wouldn’t mind another notch on my belt.”

You were hesitant. You loved Loki and you knew your feelings were reciprocated through him, but it was difficult breaking from the chains of what you ‘were supposed to do’. It left you in such dissonance and yet you felt in your heart to rebel so fiercely that Asgard would immortalize your change. Your silence alerted Loki and he spoke again,

“Y/N, if we are to ever make any sort of change we cannot hide in the shadows anymore. We cannot separate and scatter like roaches when the light is shined upon us. We must bask in it. That is the only way we can possibly aspire to reach our goal of loving one another in true fulfillment.”

“You’re right.”

“I always am.”

You placed your hand back in his and Loki smiled down at you. 

“Ready to have the target on your back, Y/N?”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.”

Walking out of the secluded area of the garden, you finally stepped into the light. For the first time in the last year being open about your courtship with Loki. Asgard’s God of Mischief and your parent’s worst nightmare. You felt armored for anything to be hurled in your direction with Loki was by your side and always would be. 

The anxiety of it all had yet to drain from your bones and you couldn’t help but draft up ‘what ifs’ in your head. As if Loki was scavenging through your brain, he gave your hand an inspiriting squeeze, bringing you back into your body and out of your head. If only you knew how the whispers of your choice in partnership would rain the fires of hell all too soon.

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 3

So... more pain... yay!

I've become obsessed with these two in a very short time and I decided I'll just put out Chapters as I write them. Enjoy! <3

(Also - conveniently, Tom doesn't exist lmao)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 2

-------

Age: 17

“Hey! Don’t slam the door Spills - you know she’s… delicate.” He patted the dashboard affectionately as you put your seat-belt on - carefully so as not to drop the breakfast you’d brought for both of you. You stared at him incredulously.

“You mean this rustbucket?” You laughed as he carefully pulled out of your driveway.

“Don’t say that about her, she’s perfectly fine.” He turned on the radio and you heard the same song it always played.

“Really Francis? Queen again?” You sighed as you put the buttery half of your bagel into his mouth.

“Okay first of all, this song is amazing and it applies and secondly - the tape is stuck so it’s this or silence.” You could see the smile as he ate happily.

He never said it, but he treasured this time with you. You always gave him half of whatever you made and it always tasted better than anything he ever made himself. It was one of his favourite rituals, the little moment before the school day started. When it was just the two of you, lost in your own world; speaking your own language.

**Present day**

Who the hell is that?

The woman in the reflection wasn’t you, well - she certainly didn’t look like you anyway. She was much to wan - something was weighing her down, heavy on her shoulders. Her eyes were puffy and it looked like she’d been crying.

She was looking back at you, confused - she didn’t recognize herself either.

God I need to shower.

It helped but only a bit. At least your hair was clean, but that wasn’t going to be enough for tonight. There was no fucking way you were going to let them pick you up in this state. You had to look perfect - you had to look your best. Some delusional little corner of your mind reminded you that Frankie had feelings for you before, maybe you could tap into that somehow.

That’s a little fucked up, he’s engaged.

You ignored that thought as you picked out a flattering outfit and tried to work a miracle with your makeup. The reflection smiled back at you now, and you could almost recognize her - the sadness was still there but you were ignoring that too. There would be no room for sadness tonight.

--

“Hi! So glad you came out with us, you look lovely!” Claudia greeted you when you got into Frankie’s truck. Same truck you’d been getting into since you were a teenager, same truck he refused to get rid of because ‘shouldn’t fix what isn’t broken’. You saw the look Frankie gave you in the rear-view, saw his eyes quickly flash towards the exposed skin of your legs and a cruel little part of you soared at that. Got you it seemed to say.

“You look great Spills, Benny is going to eat you up.” He said it playfully but you heard the slight tinge of bitterness. Claudia didn’t notice.

“Oh yes, Benny is going to be all over you. They’re all going to love you, Will and Santi. I know they will.” Even her voice was sweet and you couldn’t help that it pissed you off how nice she was.

“Who’s Benny? Or Will or Santi for that matter?” The names meant nothing to you.

“Army buddies.” You knew him well enough to sense there was something that was bothering him, could it be the thought of his army buddies liking you? Your ego definitely liked that idea.

“They can be a little rough around the edges, but they’re sweet. Benny and his brother Will, even Santi. You’ll love them.” She was smiling at you, beaming.

We’ll see about that.

---

It made you a little sad when Frankie held the door open for the two of you as you walked into the bar. Nothing had changed, you knew that if you went to the last booth your combined initials would still be carved into the table. You knew that the second last stool was wobbly and if you sat there when you were too drunk, you’d fall and eat shit.

This is going to be fun.

Blessedly- thankfully- you did not sit at the last booth. When you walked in there had been a loud chorus of what you thought was the word ‘catfish’ which confused you profoundly, that is until you noticed Frankie laughing. They call you catfish? The people calling had slid a couple of tables together in the middle of the large room and had started the party without Frankie it seemed.

His smile was genuine when they greeted him and despite how you felt, despite how hurt you were that it wasn’t you on his arm - merging his home life with this army family he’d made - his happiness was lovely to behold. That smile, in this place was home. The bare bulbs hanging in this dingy bar, bathing him in golden light - seeing him like this made you ache, made you want to run your fingers through his hair. Made you want to kiss the little bald patch in his facial hair.

They all greeted Claudia and the spell was broken; it was almost overwhelming how much it hurt that it wasn’t you.

It should be me, it should have always been me.

“Okay okay - settle down, meet my best friend in the whole world. This is Spills.” He placed his hand at the small of your back - just barely - to bring you forward and they all smiled warmly at you.

“It’s nice to meet you - we’ve heard a lot about you.” A ruggedly handsome man with greying hair walked over to you and shook your hand warmly. He gave you a wink that suggested he knew more about you than you would have liked. “I’m Santi - but everyone calls me Pope.”

You went around as they all introduced themselves, a beautiful blond man named Will who called you sweetheart and gave you a -very welcome- lingering hug.

“Hey, I’m Benny - “ Frankie cut him off.

“Benny - behave please.” Frankie’s face was all smiles but you recognized the tone.

“I’m okay Francis. I can take care of myself.” You smiled at him sweetly and you shook Benny’s hand.

“Yeah Francis, let the lady speak for herself. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled and guided you to sit beside him. You chanced a glance back at Frankie and you thought you caught a look of recognition between him and Pope but you couldn’t dwell on that. Your emotional attachment to Frankie could have been warping your perception of everything.

I’m seeing what I want to see.

---

Benny was chatty, he was sweet and a couple of years younger and you could tell he was a bit wild. Will - who you learned was his brother sat with the two of you and you learned about their childhoods, what had led them to join the army. You learned that Benny liked to box, which was strangely fitting and you learned that Frankie was one hell of a pilot.

At times you could almost ignore the rocks in the pit of your stomach, when Benny laughed and threw his arm around you. It felt nice to have someone pay attention to you this way, even if you weren’t exactly on the same wavelength. A little flirting couldn’t do any harm though and so you let it happen. You smiled sweetly and left his arm in place.

“So why do you guys call him Catfish?” The nickname was strange, he’d always been Frankie or Francis - Francisco when you were angry.

“Isn’t it obvious? Looks like a catfish with those ridiculous whiskers.” Will was laughing and when you looked back at him you found his gaze already fixed on you. On the closeness between you and Benny, you could see the way his eyes narrowed slightly.

Are you jealous right now? You’ve gotta be kidding me.

You could feel your blood boiling, was it all in your head? Were you just hoping that he’d be jealous of… what? Nothing was happening. Benny was cute, sure - but you didn’t want him.

I want you, you idiot.

Suddenly it was too much. You couldn’t be there surrounded by this part of his life that didn't include you. Pope walked over to the three of you as you got up - you needed to get out.

“Just going to grab some air - be back in a few.” You smiled as best you could, Will asked if you needed company, you declined politely.

The cool night air enveloped you when you opened the door - it helped a lot. There was a group of tables with ashtrays just outside the bar and you chose one of the empty ones. There was a gorgeous breeze out, you hadn’t realized how stuffy and suffocating it was inside.

Maybe it's just your brain.

“You okay Spills?” His voice crept down your spine.

“Yep - all good. You?” You could hear him approaching you, felt him sit next to you but you couldn’t look at him.

“I’m okay.” He sat beside you quietly, bumping his shoulder to yours. “What did you think of my friends?” You ignored his tone, somehow hopeful and bitter at the same time.

“They’re really nice, Benny and Will are sweet - Santi seems a little broody.” He laughed and you looked over at him - his big smile brought out your own.

“Just wait - once he’s comfortable around you he’ll never shut up. Those guys have been with me through a lot.” You kept forgetting that there was so much about his time away that you didn’t know. Things Claudia knew.

“You want to talk about it?” You bumped his shoulder back, knowing that sometimes he just needed to be asked. He looked at you strangely then, almost like he had just recognized you.

“Spills-” The door burst open with a loud laugh and Claudia came looking for him.

“Hey babe! Come on, they're making a toast.” She was all breathless smiles, wine dark lips and the end of your moment with him. He sighed loudly, a big smile on his face for her.

“Another time, let's go inside.” he said back to you as he walked towards her, towards Claudia and away from you.

--------------

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[erule]

The frat party | t.h.

Title: The frat party

Pairing: Frat boy!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1823

Warnings: frat boy Tom, angst, nakedness (nothing sexual though, no smut in this chapter), mention of sex, implied smut, cliffhanger at the end, jealous Tom, language, OC Oliver, violence (one punch), blood, plot twists.

Summary: Tom and the reader met at a frat party, but a year later they broke up because of some reason. Now, rumor has it that the reader is dating one of Tom’s friends and he gets jealous.

A/N: Hello hello, I’m back! Have you seen Tom’s recent pics in Monaco?? He looked amazing! Anyway, I don’t know why, but I just had to write a fic with frat boy!Tom, so enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged in my Tom Holland fics, just let me know in my ask box! You can also find me on AO3 and Wattpad. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer!

Main Masterlist

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker Masterlist

Chapter 1

Break up with my ex girlfriend

Frat parties. Am I right? Worst part of college life. A lot of people drink to forget about their grades and how their lives went wrong, while someone’s just hoping to have some fun with them (if you know what I mean). For the first year, I hated them with passion, but it was before I met him. At a frat party. Oh, the irony! And then, frat parties were the only chance I had to actually talk to him. It didn’t take us long enough to start dating. I think that adults tell you fairy tales to make you grow up with a hope, the hope to find your real happy ending, your true love. Well, I wasn’t used to believe in them, but the year I spent with Tom… that was close to the definition of happy ending. The problem with happy endings? They don’t tell you what happens after them. And that’s because they’re a nightmare.

“Tell me that now or you’re not gonna find me in this bed tomorrow”, he says and there’s a part of me that wants to die right here and right now. I shake my head. I don’t want to do that. Not because I don’t feel anything for him, but I’m scared that this will complicate things between us and it’s the last thing I want. “Are you serious, Y/N? You really think that saying something like that during sex doesn’t count? Calling someone on the phone means something, even if you’re drunk as Hell. So tell me what you really feel about me right now or I swear, I’m out of this room. I’m out of this kind of weird relationship that’s going on between us for years,” Tom says and the veins on his arms draw a beautiful map on his body, in which the moles are cities and his eyes are volcanoes. They’re burning, unlike my skin, that is freezing because I’m not wearing anything at the moment. Except for my shame, perhaps. My insecurities, that never leave me. Even in front of Tom.

“You don’t mean that,” I try to say, my mouth dry. But he’s insanely angry. In another situation, it would be hot.

“I do, Y/N,” he replies. I swallow. His expression softens, like he’s in pain. He comes closer to me, brushing my cheeks with his hands. My eyes are full of tears. His words feel like a prayer on my skin. “Please, tell me”.

And even if I don’t wanna do that, my hands are tied. Even if that’s a lie. I remain in silence. One second after that, he’s gone. Tom always keeps his promises, after all.

2 months before

Harrison sat down with a strange look on his face. It only meant one thing for Tom: trouble. He sighed, throwing away the third cigarette of the day. Jacob raised an eyebrow, trying to get rid of the stench of smoke with one hand.

“I thought you wanted to quit smoking,” Jacob said.

“Relax, I only smoke before finals now,” Tom said. “What’s up, mate? Come on, talk”.

Harrison raised a corner of his lips in a smirk.

“Rumor has it, that Oliver’s got a girlfriend,” he said.

“No way!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Oh, fuck me,” Tom said, laying on the grass with his hands behind his neck, glancing at a couple of girls who were passing by.

“I haven’t said the best part yet, though,” Harrison continued. Jacob urged him to speak further. “He’s gonna throw a party for his birthday and he’ll introduce her to his friends. But since we’re his friends, I was wondering why I haven’t told us anything about this gal in weeks. So I played Sherlock Holmes for a couple of hours and I found out that… we actually know this girl,” he said.

“I bet she’s someone of the campus,” Tom joked, as if it was obvious.

“I bet she’s someone’s ex girlfriend,” Jacob replied.

Harrison remained quiet, but he was smiling.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Tom said, astonished, while sitting on the grass again.

“I won!” Jacob yelled.

“Who’s she? I hooked up with…”

“Ex girlfriend, Tom. It’s not some random girl you hooked up with. She’s someone you remember very well,” Harrison said.

“So we’re talking about me, uh? Well, let’s see… is it Janine? We lasted two weeks, I wouldn’t be mad about her,” he shrugged. Harrison swallowed.

“It’s someone you would be mad about,” Jacob guessed. “And there’s just one person that you would be mad about”.

Tom’s eyes widened at the realization.

“He’s fucking dead”.

Two days after that conversation, here they were: the three of them were laying with their backs on the wall like they were sustaining it from falling down. Tom had threatened Oliver with a Dare to explain, mate?, but his answer was just an I’m sorry Tom, but she’s just your ex. I don’t have to ask for your permission. Or does this mean that you’re still not over her? So, since Tom values too much his pride, he said that he was over her and that Oliver was right, he didn’t have to ask for his permission. Oliver apologized for not telling him that before and then walked away, leaving Tom to smoke the whole pack of cigarettes. Tom was watching Oliver talking with Elizabeth, one of your friends, when he saw you and Zendaya arrive at the party. In his opinion, you were stunning. You immediately caught his gaze. You just never failed to amaze him, even after a year. His heart ached at the view, but it ached even more when you greeted Oliver. You gave him a kiss on his cheek, clenching your hand in a fist. It seemed like you were uncomfortable. So, he came up with a plan to save you.

“Wait for me here,” he said to his friends, then he walked fast to reach you. “Hey mate, happy birthday!” Tom said to Oliver, who hugged him.

“Thanks, Tom. I think that you already know Y/N, Lizzie and Z,” he said and you smiled along with your friends, even if you looked more surprised than happy.

“Of course, I do,” Tom said, looking directly at you. You looked down. “Could I please talk to Y/N? We haven’t been in touch for quite some time and I’d like to catch up with her,” he asked.

“Sure!” Oliver said, while Zendaya seemed looking at you with a concerned expression. You winked at her.

Tom made you move away from Oliver by brushing your back, walking to the next exit. He lowered his voice in order to talk with you only, speaking to your hear: “You look ravishing, darling”.

He noticed that you closed your eyes for a very long second, but you didn’t say a word about that.

“Are you here to show that you still own me or something?”

“I don’t own you, darling. You’re absolutely free to do anything you like,” he said, lighting a cigarette outside the building.

“Z said you wanted to quit smoking,” you said, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I only smoke before finals”.

“Finals were yesterday,” you replied.

“Are we here to talk about me or you? I noticed that you were uncomfortable with Oliver, but I thought that you were his girlfriend. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

You smirked.

“Oh, now I get it. You’re jealous”.

“Nah, If I’d be jealous, you would know, trust me,” Tom said, with a playful tone.

“What would you do?” You asked, curiousity eating you alive. You wanted to know so bad if he still had feelings for you.

“Don’t play with fire, darling. You’re gonna burn your pretty hands, otherwise,” he replied, running a finger over his lip. Shivers ran through your spine, but you hoped that Tom didn’t notice it.

“Don’t try to seduce me, Holland. You’re not gonna win this time,” you said, chuckling. “And for the record, we’re not dating. He’s just insistent,” you explained.

Tom looked inside and saw Oliver staring at the two of you. An idea came up into his mind and he couldn’t quite get rid of it. It was smart, but also terrifying. It was very dangerous, yet he had to try.

“We could be in a fake relationship. It could fool everyone,” he proposed.

You turned to look at him, astonished.

“Even after what happened?”

Tom’s eyes were locked with yours, but his facial muscles didn’t move at all. If he still was hurt by the reason that made you two break up, he didn’t show it to you.

“He’s coming here,” he said instead, glancing at Oliver.

“Tom, this is insane,” you kept going. “You said you couldn’t forgive me after…”

It happened all too fast. All the lights went out at the same time. Tom's lips were on yours in an instant. Everything was on fire, every inch of your body. Every cell your flash was made of exploded like a dying supernova. A moment later, someone snatched him from your hands, leaving you in the cold.

Oliver hit him. Tom laughed, nervously, but then he grabbed the collar of Oliver’s shirt and slammed him against the wall, angrily. You pounced on Tom, trying to pull him away from Oliver. At first, Tom looked at you confused, thinking that you just wanted to keep Oliver safe from him, but your eyes told him another story: you prevented him to be kicked out from the campus.

“I told you, you’d know,” he said, while wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth, pretending to be the tough guy he wasn’t.

“Guys, I think we should leave,” Jacob said, while Harrison was taking Tom away from Oliver by his arm.

“I thought we were friends, Tom,” Oliver said, an inch of hurting in his voice tone.

“That was before you came after the only thing I care about,” he said harshly. And then, he left with Harrison and Jacob.

That night, while Tom was cleaning himself of blood in the bathroom, Jacob was staring at him worried, while standing with one arm against the door jamb.

“You never told me what happened, you know, with Y/N last year. Haz doesn’t want to tell me, he thinks it’s up to you. You said that you were over her, but I don’t think you are, since what you did tonight,” he said. Tom kept wiping away the blood from his shirt, ignoring Jacob’s words. “Why have you broken up with her, Tom? It seems pretty obvious that you’re still in love with her”.

Tom gulped, while looking at himself in the mirror. He had tried to bury all of his memories deep down, but it seemed that now the demons wanted to come back and play with him once again. Maybe it had finally come the time to confront them.

When he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse: “Because she cheated on me”.

Read chapter 2 here!

[searchingwardrobes]

Ivory Runs Red: 5/6

First off, massive thanks to the @cssns​, my beta @demisexualemmaswan​, and my artist @cocohook38​. Cocohook created this amazing cover art, and she is working on something else too to go with this story. The rough sketch made my jaw drop, so I can’t wait for ya’ll to see it!

This part  is going to be a little long, but I need to address something that I got multiple comments about. Just bear with me; this is the only way I can think to clear things up. I was really surprised to see that some people were angry at David and Mary Margaret for not doing anything to find Emma and/or "allowing" her relationship with Neal. Others simply expressed things along the lines of "I hope you explain what David and Mary Margaret did about all this." The reason this reaction surprised me so much is because I thought it was clear that they HAD done something. Why would the Golds need to get rid of police files if the Swans never reported Emma missing? Why would issues of the newspaper be missing from the library if Emma's disappearance wasn't reported on? Obviously, David and Mary Margaret did something! As for Neal, they had no idea Emma was seeing him. If you'll recall, in a previous chapter, Emma told Killian she had to sneak out at night to meet Neal. So that wasn't Snowing's fault either. Also, how would any of these characters know what David and Mary Margaret did or didn't do for their daughter? This is almost a hundred years later, and Emma's memories are dulled from being a ghost for so long. The only way I could spell out clearly how Snowing handled their daughter's disappearance would be some sort of convoluted info-dump, and I didn't want to destroy the tone and mood of the story to do that. But just so everyone knows: Yes, Emma's parents were devastated. They did everything in their power to find her, never giving up hope (which is so in character for them!). They died still believing she was either still out there or that crimes against her had gone unpunished. It broke their hearts. The Golds spread rumors that Emma was some kind of slut who ran away with a guy, and the people of Storybrooke overall thought the Swans had gone crazy. So there it is, that's the back story that I just couldn't figure out how to fit in the story, lol.

I'm not mad at the questions, to be clear. I was just surprised by them. I guess I blame the show for ruining these two as parents the last couple of seasons. Maybe that's why everyone jumped on them so fast. I was also honestly worried that ya'll would be upset with me for not addressing the topic, hence this long explanation! No one was rude by any means, so don't go trying to defend me from nonexistent trolls, lol! My feelings have NOT been hurt. I simply wanted to address the questions that were asked and the misplaced anger toward Snowing. (Not anger towards me - but fictional characters!)

Okay, now that I've cleared all THAT up, let's get on with the next chapter, shall we? And I'll go ahead and warn you: this is gonna hurt . . .

Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …

Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)

Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @kmomof4​ @xhookswenchx​ @let-it-raines​ @bethacaciakay​ @tiganasummertree​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @spartanguard​ @welllpthisishappening​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kday426​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @carpedzem​ @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615​ @snidgetsafan​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @lassluna​ @distant-rose​ @courtorderedcake​ @winterbythesea​ @thesschesthair​ @killian-whump​ @thisonesatellite​ @batana54​ @it-meant-something​ @xsajx​ @therooksshiningknight​ @gingerchangeling​​

Chapter Five: Run

“You’ve got to tell them what you saw - what you’ve learned,” Killian pleaded. 

Graham shook his head, his curly hair falling in his eyes as he stared at the slender hands he clasped in his. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw sported far more facial hair than it normally did, and Killian didn’t have to ask if he’d slept in the past forty-eight hours. 

“They won’t believe me.”

Killian’s jaw clenched in frustration. “But if I saw Emma, and you saw her, then maybe they’ll believe -”

“That Belle saw a ghost push Mike Gaston off the troll bridge? They’ll believe that? Really?” Graham let out a sarcastic, bitter laugh. “You really are just a naive kid if that’s what you're thinking.”

“But you’re a cop!”

“I’m still only nineteen! They’ll think we’re just over-imaginative teenagers.” Graham paused, reaching up with one hand to trace the curve of Belle’s cheek as she slept in her drug-induced prison. “That will land us in rooms just down the hall with our own IV full of an antipsychotic cocktail. How will I help her then?”

“You’ve fallen in love with her.” It wasn’t a question. 

Graham sighed. “How could I not? And how could he -” He broke off, his blue eyes flashing. “I’m not sorry he’s dead. If I’d been there and saw him hurt her -”

“Shh, I wouldn’t say things like that. Not here.”

Killian’s gaze fell to the bruises around Belle’s neck, and he didn’t blame Graham at all. It terrified him to think what could have happened if Emma hadn’t shown up.

“History repeats itself,” he murmured under his breath. 

*************************************************

Killian had scarcely arrived at the bridge when headlights blinded him. He turned away, blinking, stumbling, refusing to be stopped. 

“Emma! Emma!” he shouted. He tripped and dropped his flashlight. It broke as it hit the ground, rolling to the edge of the bridge. Now all he could see was ebony before him and radiant luminescence behind him. 

His palms scraped against the asphalt as Liam hauled him to his feet. His brother gripped his upper arms so tightly it was almost painful, and he gave him a brief shake. 

“You’ve got to stop this!”

Killian fought him. “I have to see her!”

Liam had always been broader than Killian with an unfair advantage in all their childhood tussles. Even now, Killian was no match for him as he lifted him bodily with one arm and hauled him over to his car. 

“You need help!” Liam literally tossed him into the backseat. 

“I’m not going home!” Killian tried to scramble out, but Liam just shoved him back inside. 

“Good, because I’m not taking you home.”

*******************************************************

“Why won’t you be straight with us, kid?”

Killian glared at the detective with a cynical sneer. The psychiatrist on the cop’s left frowned at Killian’s attitude. The choice of words was cruel considering he was in a literal straightjacket. His vision of the two men was obscured by the long strands of dark hair before his eyes. Haircuts were apparently seen as a luxury on the psych ward. 

“I’ve answered all your questions,” Killian finally told them wearily, “you just don’t like what I had to say.”

“Because we want the truth,” the psychiatrist, Dr. Archie Hopper, said gently. He was clearly playing the part of “good cop.” Or “good doctor.” Whatever.

“I told you the truth.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Killian snorted a laugh. “Tell that to Mike Gaston.”

The detective’s voice took on a harsh, warning tone. “Mike Gaston was the victim of murder.”

“The victim!” Killian cried, his voice snapping up. “What about the bruises he put on Belle? Or the fact that I nearly died when he tied me to that bridge!”

The detective’s lips curled up in a lewd sneer as he lit a cigarette. “If some horny teenager likes it a bit rough, that’s none of my business.”

Killian fought his bonds, his jaw clenching at the detective’s insinuation. He was as bad as Neal Gold, maybe worse. He had to be pushing fifty at least, and a pot belly strained at his button up shirt. His eyes widened as Killian raged.

“Bothers you though, I see.” He leaned forward. “Nobody blames you for wanting her, kid. Nobody blames you for being jealous. But murder? That’s a different story.”

“I told you I had nothing to do with that!”

The detective glanced at Dr. Hopper, and the soft spoken psychiatrist took over. “Killian, start at the beginning for us. What did Belle say when she called you that night?”

“I’m telling you, she didn’t call me, she didn’t come to my house. I saw her early that afternoon at the library. That was it. Then my brother got a phone call that there had been an accident, and we came to the hospital.”

“You and Belle were at the library together a lot,” Hopper said softly, “what did you two do there?”

Killian rolled his eyes. He hated the patronizing way the man asked the question. “We studied. Did our homework. We were friends.”

The detective snorted again, and Killian wanted to scream. “Drop the act, kid. You really expect us to believe that you spent all that time with her, all that time with a hot chick, and you never fucked her?”

Dr. Hopper recoiled at the foul language, and Killian thought his own jaw might actually break. 

“You’re just as much a misogynistic, narrow-minded, neanderthal as Mike Gaston.”

The detective grinned and slapped Dr. Hopper on the knee. “You were right, shrink, this kid’s smart.” He took another puff of his cigarette as he eyed Killian. “Smart enough to plan an elaborate murder with your knocked-up girlfriend?”

“That’s the most ridiculous - wait - did you say knocked up?”

“Hm,” the detective mused, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his five o’clock shadow. “You didn’t know?”

Killian was horrified when a laugh slipped past his lips. Another bitter laugh followed, then another, until before he knew it, he was shaking with them. He was laughing hysterically while wearing a straightjacket. That thought made him laugh even more, and if he didn’t seem like a lunatic before, he sure as hell did now. 

“What the hell is so funny?” thundered the detective.

Killian’s laughter stopped abruptly and he leveled the man with an intense stare. “History repeating itself. That’s what’s so funny.”

A smile that he knew bordered on manic curled his lips. Yes, history had repeated itself, and this time, Emma Swan had won. 

************************************************************

They didn’t have enough to charge him, or Belle, or anyone else really with Gaston’s murder. It was officially declared an accident, and theoretically, Belle French and Killian Jones were free to move on. 

Killian wouldn’t say it was easy for Belle. She had severe trauma from that terrifying night, and she ended up losing the baby because of it. Nevertheless, she had Dr. Hopper’s patient help, her father’s support, and Graham’s unwavering devotion. Soon, though it would be a long time before she was truly healed, she was able to go home. 

Killian, on the other hand, didn’t really want to go home. For one, he, unlike Belle and Graham, refused to stop talking about Emma - refused to lie and say he made it up. He didn’t fault his friends for it; didn’t take it as a betrayal. He even understood their reasoning when they begged him to do the same and just play along, damn it. He simply couldn’t do it. Emma was too real, too precious. He knew her in a way they never would. He knew the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that go.

The psych ward wasn’t so bad. The drugs numbed him to the point that he sailed on a sea of oblivion half the time. He’d stopped fighting, so there was no more straight jacket, no more bed straps. 

And she came to him. Sometimes the drugs meant he wasn’t lucid enough to really carry on a conversation. On those nights, she curled up next to him on the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his cheeks. She pressed kisses to his lips, and sometimes he could respond in kind. 

Other times, though admittedly rare, they would talk. About everything and nothing at all. One night, they talked about their dreams for later, after high school, and suddenly Emma began to weep. 

“I know,” he soothed, brushing her forehead with a kiss, “you fear you can never have that. But maybe we can figure it out. If we somehow get the truth out. About your murder -”

Emma silenced him with a finger to his lips. “That isn’t it, Killian. It’s you. I have no more tomorrows but you can.”

His brow furrowed, and she sighed and soothed the lines away with the pad of her thumb. 

“But not if you keep holding onto me.”

His arms instinctively pulled her closer. “I’ll never let you go.”

She sighed, and sadness filled her eyes. She slipped out of his embrace and rose from the bed. Her skin grew white, her gown floated in an ethereal way at her feet. He frowned and scrambled to a sitting position. 

“I have to say goodbye,” she told him. She said it with an edge of discovery in her voice. Her lips turned up in a soft smile even as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

He shook his head and tried to reach for her, to leave the bed, but he had just enough drugs in his system to make his movements sluggish and ineffectual. 

“I won’t let you see me again.”

“No, Emma, please! I love you!”

“And I love you. That’s why I have to do this.” 

She was already fading away. Killian made a fist and slammed it into his thigh. Tears stung his eyes. 

“Be happy,” she told him, “for me.”

Then she was gone.

[starlight-writes-stuff]

SO HEAR ME OUT an nsfw alphabet for draco

hey bestie - im literally so excited to do this (: i have a guilty pleasure of reading nsfw alphabets so u really hit the nail on the head with this request . n e ways , enjoy !

AYO LOOK AT THESE ! : smut (duh but still) , hair pulling , breeding k!nk , unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it) , masturbation , choking , light bondage , praise kink , general adult themes and content so please only read if ur okay with that .

reblogs are always appreciated ! <3 ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

draco is the literal definition of a fluff fic after sex - hes so soft and loving and affectionate . if the sex was on the rougher side , draco goes out of his way to kiss any bruises , cuts , or red marks he may have left on you, soothing the sinfully painful spots with soft touches of his suddenly gentle fingertips.  

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

draco is built like a greek mf god , and he knows it . he’s all lean , toned muscles and his alabaster pale skin only makes him look more ethereal . draco is quite proud of his body and isn’t afraid to show off if needed.

draco literally loves everything about you , and you’ve tried over and over to get him to pick his most favorite - he never does it because he’s a stubborn little shit and refuses to let you think that he values one part of you over any other . finally , you wore him down to coming up with a top 3 : your hands , your hair , and your chest .

 your hands as they fit perfectly in his , they brush his hair out of his eyes with a gentleness that melts him every time (and the way you dig your nails into his back or his arms iykyk) . 

draco loves your hair mostly because its the exact opposite of his own ; long , thick , and chocolate brown . he’s constantly playing with your hair , whether that's running his hands through it or gently tugging on it to get your attention . he would kill you if you ever told anyone , but draco taught himself how to braid your hair so he would have something repetitive to do to calm his anxiety .

 draco loves your chest : he's such a boob guy . he is such a boob guy . even in a non-sexual context , draco loves having his hands up your shirt just feeling how soft your breasts are , the way that he can feel your heartbeat if you’re still enough . when things are getting *frisky* draco loves your tits - in his hands , using his mouth on them , titty-fucking you , literally everything . 

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

draco has a huge breeding kink , but is simultaneously terrified of getting you pregnant. he knows that he wants to be a dad eventually , but draco malfoy is the king of daddy issues™ and can’t fathom having a child right now .

that doesn’t stop him from filling you up with his cum every time you guys fuck - draco loves watching your face as you take his entire load , begging him not to pull out . 

once he does , though , draco’s head is immediately between your legs watching his manhood drip out of you , fingering it out of you while you whimper at the way he seems to hit all the right spots . 

he’s extremely thankful for the tiny , yellow birth control pills that you’re on , and he reminds you every day to take them .

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

draco had never , ever said i love you to someone during or after sex until the two of you had your first time . now , its a normal occurrence for draco to tell you how much he loves you as he thrusts into your pretty , fucked out body . he lets his forehead fall to yours , moaning the words in between heavy breaths as he finishes inside you .

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

draco had a couple of hookups , and a complicated friends with benefits situation before the two of you got together , so he was somewhat experienced by the time you guys finally got down to it . he made sure you felt so good the entire time , using every trick in his book to make you cum around him over and over until he reached completion as well . 

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

draco is a sucker for regular old missionary . he likes being able to watch your face as you take every inch of him , watching your facial expressions change and morph under the influence of his pleasure . if he’s eager to feel you - all of you - draco will hook one of your legs over his shoulders , giving him better access to your sex . this is the one instance where draco wont keep eye contact with you : he can't resist watching himself slide in and out of you , coated in your cum .

however

he's an absolute sucker for you riding him , too . he loves to let you take control and chase your pleasure - plus the visual of you bouncing up and down on his cock , eyes rolling back into your head as you hit all the right spots is enough to send him over the edge . if you get tired while on top , draco will gladly hold your hips in place , fucking up into you until you practically collapse into him , entirely taken over by the force of your orgasm. 

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

intimacy is something that didn’t come easy for you and draco; he’d never been with someone that he actually loved before you . there was a deep intensity to the emotions shared between you two during sex , and draco viewed that time between the both of you as something almost sacred . foreplay , or just general teasing can be silly with you two , but making love is more serious . 

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

draco keeps himself trimmed , but not entirely clean shaven , and the hair down there is darker than his signature white-blond locs .

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

(refer back to g but i could talk about this for days) draco is incredibly romantic when it comes to sex . your first time was like something out of a movie - draco had lit candles everywhere , filling the room with soft , flickering light , as well as changing the sheets on your bed to a soft , white cotton . he’d taken his time making you comfortable ; you and draco had talked through all your fears for hours before he laid a hand on you . once you were ready , draco’s touches had been soft and slow and tender all over your body - he’d made you feel like the angel you were . quickly , you learned that draco wasn’t like that just because it had been your first time ; draco made an effort to make sex just as special every time. 

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

draco was raised thinking that masturbation was a shameful act , something dirty and below him (you literally can not tell me that this isn't true i'll fight it until the day i die . as much as i love narcissa the malfoy family fkn sucks and they damaged draco so bad . anyways) so it’s very rare that he’ll get himself off. when he does , its somewhere where he can quickly get rid of the evidence , such as the shower . 

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

while draco makes sex between you two meaningful and special , that doesn’t mean that he’s afraid to be rough (after yall have had a long talk about it before where you gave him enthusiastic consent ofc . ) 

draco loves to pull your hair or wrap a hand around your throat while he’s hitting it from the back , so much so that he’ll bring your back up to his chest . 

he really enjoys a bit of light choking here and there - just enough to watch your pretty face flush with blood , making your moans the slightest bit weaker . 

draco loves to tie your hands up above your head while he’s eating you out as well ; it makes you take all the pleasure he’s willing to give , and he lives for the way your body writhes and bucks under his skillful tongue. 

you literally can not tell me that draco doesn’t have a praise kink - both giving and receiving . draco loves to tell you how good of a job your doing whether you're sucking him off or taking all of him inside you , and he’s constantly reassuring you that you’re doing such a good job.

however

he fucking loves when you praise him as well (my theory as to why is so fkn sad so we wont go over that here) but that boy lives for you telling him how good he’s making you feel , and when you encourage him nodding and whining for him to go faster . its the one thing that undoes him almost immediately , and he flushes furiously every time you tell him just how fantastic he’s doing .  

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

you and draco rarely get it on outside of your bedrooms at hogwarts , or your childhood rooms when you’re home for the summer - but there’s an exception to every rule. draco has absolutely ruined you in the quidditch changing rooms after a rather brutal loss , and he’s the king of shower sex , too.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

praise !! draco loves you telling him how good his dick feels , or his tongue , or his hands . he also appreciates when you’re rather direct with him - telling draco exactly where you want him , what you want him to do - it drives him absolutely insane . hearing such dirty words come from your sweet , innocent mouth kills him , and it makes draco that much more excited.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there's nothing draco wouldn’t try at least once , but he’s rather uncomfortable with voyeurism. he hates the idea of anyone else seeing your body , watching how you wriggle and whine underneath him as he makes you cum . while the two of you have done it in some questionable locations , draco had made sure that no one could see . 

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

while draco loves your mouth wrapped around him , that boy could spend all day between your legs . he's nothing short of obsessed with eating you out , and its one of his favorite things to do for you . he cant help the way it makes him feel - hearing you whimper and moan while you pull on his hair , your back arching off the bed when his tongue flicks in just the right way . he gets a sort of high from it , and absolutely prides himself on making you cum with just his tongue . 

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it really depends on the day . draco loves fucking you slow , watching his manhood slide in and out of your pretty body coated in your arousal , but he cant resist fucking you so hard he leaves bruises , either . if its just a regular day , the two of you fall somewhere in between , a perfect mix of rough and sweet . 

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

draco loves a good quickie every once in a while ! sometimes he needs a release , and your body is his favorite vessel . usually quickies are where the two of you get a little more risky - he’ll grab your arm , pulling you into an empty classroom or the shower and take you then and there . 

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes and no . draco would try anything and everything , especially if you asked him to , but there are some things that are a one-and-done for him . the two of you are good at talking about that stuff - if something made one of you uncomfortable , the other would understand 100% . its all about the balance of boundaries and still being adventurous. 

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

draco would fuck you all day if you would let him . he can make you cum many , many times before he’ll allow himself to even get close , and even then his stamina is through the roof . he can go at least 3 rounds if not more , and switch positions as many times as you’d like . 

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

while draco doesn’t mind you using toys on yourself , they do make him slightly jealous . you gently tease him about this sometimes , how he works himself into a sulk over an inanimate object - however, that usually leads to your hands tied to his headboard , draco holding a vibrator on your clit until you can’t take anymore orgasms. 

you two have expirimented with using your vibrator during sex , but draco much prefers playing with your clit over using an outside source , and seretly , you do too . he’s amazing with his hands , and rubs tight , fast circles onto your sensitive nub while his hips snap against yours only intensifying the sensation .

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

draco loves to tease you - he likes to watch the way you come undone under the slightest touches of his hands . very rarely does he tease you for long - he can’t resist giving you what you want , what you’re begging him for in that high , breathy voice .

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s a loud motherfucker all the time , and the bedroom is no exception . draco’s moans are music to your ears , and they turn you on more than anything . his already rough voice only gets raspier , and deeper , too . he loves to talk dirty to you , but as he approaches his orgasm , he can barely form full sentences . his cocky pillow talk turns to almost desperate moans and whimpers as his thrusts get sloppier and quicker , his hips snapping against yours hard . his groans as he cums are heavenly , especially since he’s usually buried his head in your neck or dropped his forehead to yours by then . 

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

we all know that draco have a superiority / god complex (as he should 😌) , and this manifests in the bedroom - you would’ve never known , though , if it weren’t for a complete accident . you and draco had been studying together , and he’d asked one of the yes or no questions written on a flashcard .  not thinking about your actions , you’d answered the question with “no, sir” - then physically felt draco’s entire body stiffen underneath you . you’d picked up on it immediately , blood flooding your face as you’d asked him if he liked it .

yes , he did .

he loves when you call him sir as he’s fucking the life out of you - like , he has to stop himself from cumming on the spot . 

when you want to fuck with him for whatever reason , you’ll jokingly call him ‘sir’ in front of your friends

you’ll pay for it later , though

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

mans is built in every sense of the word . draco is quite well endowed , which was something that took you a bit to get used to . he was never one to measure - it just seemed wrong to him , like he was doing something dirty - but by your estimations , draco is about 7 inches . he’s thicker than most , too , which only adds to your pleasure . 

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

draco lives in a constant state of horny™ . he can’t help it - something about you brings out his most primal instincts . he’s so in love with you and your body that he can rarely keep his hands off of it , but he knows how to control himself . he tries to match your sex drive ; when yours is high , his is too , but he doesn’t mind waiting on you to give him the green light if you’re libido has been lower . 

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

its safe to say that the both of you are extremley tired after sex - its quite the workout . draco is so soft once he’s finished , and he would live in that post-sex haze forever if he could ; he’s all sweet kisses and skin-to-skin contact , but he’ll usually wait until you fall asleep on him before he can drift off . something about making sure that you’re comfortable enough to sleep on him fills draco with a sense of immense pride . once you’ve fallen asleep, depending on how vigorous everything was , draco will usually fade pretty soon after ; on the off chance that he still has some energy , draco stays up and watches you . he looks at you as if you were a piece of art , usually following the soft lines and curves of your face with a gentle finger ; admiring you like the angel you are .

[seanfalco]

The Great Death Defying Nathan Young | Nathan Young x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k Warning(s): Suggestive language, Blood, Character Death (but it’s Nathan, so he’s okay)

Summary: Becoming a Vegas magician’s personal assistant, you get more than you bargained for when you find out the hard way that the magic is actually real, and so are your feelings.

a/n: Dedicated to @midnightseance / @imagine-you for our one year friendaversary!  You were the one to inspire this fic with your ideas after all lol.  Thank you Mel for being such an amazing friend and writing partner.  I love you to bits!  (To bits, I say!)

“This your first day?” the woman with the clipboard and headset next to you asked, startling you. Tearing your eyes from the stage, you nodded.

“I’m [y/n],” you introduced, shaking the woman’s hand as she checked her clipboard.

“I’m Deb. Ah, yes, here you are,” she said, looking back up at you. “You’ll be shadowing me today,” she explained. “Apparently Mr. Young needs more than one personal assistant,” she added under her breath.

“What’s he like?” you asked as you fell into step with the woman.

“A giant pain in my ass,” she grumbled with a twist of her lips. “Everyday its something else: ‘I’m hungry, fetch me some more cornettos’, ‘get Marnie a new pair of lingerie, you know th’kind I like’, ‘I need more condoms’,” she exclaimed in a poor imitation of an Irish accent.

“Oh,” you exclaimed, your brows rising in surprise. You were starting to get a better picture of what this Nathan Young you were going to be working for was like and he seemed like a bit of a prick.

——

——

“Mr. Young,” Deb called through the door to his dressing room after knocking several times with no answer. “Mr. Young!” she tried again, louder this time.

“What? Jay-sus, come on in!”

Deb rolled her eyes as she opened the door and you got your first look at ‘The Great Nathan Young’. Sprawled back in a rather grandiose throne-like chair, one long leg thrown over the arm rest, he wore naught but a half open silk robe tied loosely at the waist and a long silver chair round his neck that glittered against his bare chest.

Sporting a dashing goatee and dark wavy locks that framed his face, his dark limned emerald eyes unabashedly looked you up and down, openly checking you out with a small quirk to his lips.

“And who’re you?” he asked, his lilting accent taking you by surprise. It was nothing like how Deb had impersonated.

“This is [y/n], she’s your new assistant,” Deb introduced, sounding bored as she looked disdainfully around his messy dressing room.

“New assistant? I thought I was your assistant!” the dark haired girl you’d seen on stage earlier exclaimed, her voice a rather grating whine.

“What? No, sweetheart,” Nathan soothed, pulling her into his lap. “She’s my new personal assistant, you’re my magical assistant,” he explained and the girl ‘ohhhh’d’ in understanding, letting out a high pitched giggle.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she exclaimed. “I thought you were gettin’ rid of me for a moment there.”

You noticed Deb roll her eyes again and fought the urge yourself.

“Alright, well, if you don’t need anything—” Before she could finish, Marnie spoke up, cutting her off.

“Actually, I’d like a coffee!”

“Oooh, and I’ll have a soda, and a sandwich,” Nathan added.

Ushering you out of the room before the two could asked for anything else, Deb grumbled under her breath, showing you where the food cart was and how to make Marnie’s coffee the way she like it, with extra sugar.

——

You’d only been on the job a handful of days, but you had to admit it was kind of exciting, despite Nathan’s constant demanding whims. Standing off to the side to watch that night’s rehearsal, you couldn’t help but marvel at how real it all looked.

“Marnie! Stop stop stop!” Nathan cried, frustration lacing his voice as he stopped the production to chastise his partner for about the third time.

“What now?” Marnie exclaimed with a huff, crossing her arms petulantly over her chest.

“You’re not hitting your mark!” Nathan groaned, gesturing to the taped off X on the middle of the stage. “How am I s’posed t’make yeh disappear if y’don’t hit your mark?”

“I don’t know! Does it really matter that much?”

This wasn’t the first time they’d ended up in a shouting match either. It seemed over the past few days, since you’d started, there’d been trouble in paradise, the two constantly picking at one another.

“I need a break, I’m gettin’ a fuckin’ headache,” Nathan groaned, walking off the stage and you hurried after him.

“Can I get you anything?” you asked and Nathan pulled his hand from his face to look up at you.

“An aspirin?” he asked, a pathetic note to his voice before covering his eyes again as he slumped back in his chair. Shaking your head ruefully, you went to go grab a bottled water and some aspirin, holding them out to him.

“Here y’go, drink up,” you prompted, watching him pop the pills in his mouth and down them with a swig of water.

“Thanks,” he muttered, eyeing you askance and you smiled— it was probably the first time he’d actually thanked you for anything.

“No problem,” you murmured. “Can I ask you something?” you wondered after a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. You knew he was probably going to tell you “a magician never reveals his secrets” or some other bullshit line, but you had to ask anyway.

“Hmm?” Nathan prompted, his eyes still closed.

“How do you make it all look so real?” you asked, a hint of awe in your voice and Nathan’s eyes opened as he straightened, fixing you with a smirk.

“That’s because it is all real,” he exclaimed grandly.

Snorting, you rolled your eyes. “Alright, keep your secrets then.”

“I’m serious!” Nathan insisted. He looked like he was gunna say more until the production manager called him back to the stage and he let out a heavy sigh, pushing out of his chair. “I’d love t’stay and chat, but duty calls,” he muttered, spreading his hands apologetically.

“Oh, but first… this is for you,” he said, stopping suddenly to turn, and with a flourish he held out a single red rose to you. “I didn’t know what your favourite flower was… or really how t’make anythin’ that isn’t a rose so…” he trailed off with a shrug and you took the flower, watching him walk to the stage in awe.

Turning, you found Deb watching you, rolling her eyes at the grin you quickly wiped off your face. However, once she left, you smiled to yourself, tucking the flower behind your ear.

Busying yourself with rearranging Nathan’s wardrobe rack, you lost track of what was happening on stage until an angry shriek filled your ears and you jumped, your head snapping up. Before you knew what had happened, Marnie was pushing past you, nearly knocking you over in her haste, Nathan hot on her heels.

“No, I’m done!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot in consternation.

“But Marnie, baby, c’mon!” Nathan pleaded, rushing past to follow her to his dressing room.

“You better go after them,” Deb groaned, running her hand down her face.

Not exactly wanting to eavesdrop, it was kind of unavoidable, however, as you stood outside the open door. Marnie was throwing her clothes into a suitcase in a huff.

“I can’t do this anymore! You said it was gunna be a cakewalk, but you lied!” she cried hysterically, her already nasally voice raising an octave.

“What am I s’posed t’do without you?” Nathan countered, trying to get her to stop.

“I dunno, get another assistant! How about her?” Marnie pointed at you, having caught sight of you standing by the door. “I’ve seen you flirtin’ with her!”

Nathan grimaced as he caught your eye, the rose he’d given you still tucked in your hair and you flashed him an apologetic look. “Marnie—” he tried again, but she brushed past him, her bags in hand.

“No, Nathan, we’re through. Don’t follow me!”

“You’ll be sorry!” he yelled after her before sweeping dramatically back into his dressing room. “Well, y’comin’ in or not?” he called when you hesitated.

“What, uhm, what was all that about?” you asked, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. Nathan already had a bottle in his hand and when he turned to face you, plopping down in his chair your brows rose in surprise.

Instead of the long hair you’d come to recognize on him he sported a mess of dark springy curls piled atop his head, and his facial hair was nowhere to be found, making him look nearly ten years younger.

“Oh, who knows? She’s always been fickle, but who needs her, right?” Nathan replied with bravado, waving his hand as he brought the bottle back to his lips.

“You-your face… you look—” you floundered and Nathan snorted.

“Different?” he scoffed, snorting. “Yeah, well, it’s fake.”

“But you said…”

Giving you a patient look as he sat up, he seemed to find your shock amusing. “Th’magic is real, but my appearance ain’t,” he explained. “I mean, clearly, I’m gorgeous, but d’yeh think anyone would pay t’see ‘The Great Nathan Young’ if I looked like this?” he asked, gesturing to his face.

“I dunno, probably. I think y’look better this way,” you added with a shrug, your words taking him aback and he gaped at you. “So, what’re you gunna do now?” you asked, quickly changing the subject, your face starting to warm at your admission.

Groaning, Nathan deflated in his chair. “I’ll have t’find another assistant t’take Marnie’s place, and fast, opening night is tomorrow and if we have to postpone… it’ll be a disaster.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” you asked, trying to lift his spirits, but he merely gave you a flat stare before burying his face in his hands.

“I’ve got a lot riding on this show, if it flops... As a kid, all I ever wanted was t’be a magician and this show is my big break. I guess I could always go back t’do card tricks in casinos...” he sighed, the sadness in his voice tugging at your heart.

Trying to think of something to say, you awkwardly patted his shoulder, jumping when he suddenly sat up, his gaze lifting to you and you didn’t like the appraising way he looked at you.

“What…?” you asked hesitantly, although you could already guess what he was thinking.

“You could be my new assistant!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You’re already familiar with the show and—”

“Oh, no no no,” you quickly protested, holding your hands up.

“Oh c’mon! You’d look stunning, and you’d be savin’ th’show,” Nathan argued. “D’you want me t’beg?” he asked, promptly dropping to his knees at your feet, only making your face flare hotter.

“That’s not—”

Before you could finish, he’d taken your hands in his as he gazed up at you entreatingly, his gorgeous green eyes getting the better of you.

“Alright, fine, but Deb’s gunna be pissed,” you groaned.

Instantly Nathan’s demeanor brightened, a grin stretching his face. “Leave that crusty old bat t’me,” he exclaimed, waving the thought away as he leapt to his feet, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you’d even realized it. “C’mon, we better get you into costume, we have a rehearsal t’finish!

——

As you’d feared, Deb was not happy about this new development, leaving her once again to Nathan’s whims as his main personal assistant, and grumbling under her breath, she led you to wardrobe.

“Let’s see how long you last!” she exclaimed as she left you to change. Holding up your costume, you eyed the scanty sequined outfit with reluctance. Sighing, you pulled the costume on and inspected yourself in the mirror. Though you weren’t usually very comfortable wearing something so revealing, you found yourself looking forward to Nathan’s reaction, touching your cheek where he’d kissed you.

“Wow!” he breathed, left stunned for a moment as his mouth fell open, his gaze taking you in. It wasn’t long, however, for his cocky demeanor to return, and he let out a low whistle before flashing you a cheeky smirk.

“See, told yeh you’d look amazin’,” he exclaimed, back in his wig and goatee, and you rolled your eyes; you really did like him better without that ridiculous get up.

Climbing up on stage with him, he walked you through each act and you were thankful you had at least some knowledge of what you were supposed to do after watching Marnie so many times. Up close and part of the action, the magic tricks seemed even more real and though you tried, you couldn’t quite figure out how he did it.

“Well, I think that went as well as can be hoped for,” the production manager exclaimed, a haggard look on his face. He, like Nathan, needed the show to go off without a hitch.

“Hey, you were great up there!” Nathan called, catching up to you as you headed back to the spare dressing room — yours, now — to change.

“Really?” you asked, kinda surprised; you’d felt like you’d just been fumbling your way through it.

“Yeah, you’re a natural,” he insisted, leaning against the wall next to your door and you rolled your eyes, fighting a pleased grin.

“So…” Nathan murmured, his gaze dropping as he leaned in closer, trailing his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Wanna come round t’mine tonight? I’ll help keep your mind off the pre-show jitters,” he offered.

For a moment you merely stared at him incredulously.

“We’ll get drunk, have a little fun—”

“I can’t believe you!” you exclaimed in disgust.

“What?” he asked, a confused frown pulling at his lips. “I’ve seen th’way you look at me when y’think on one’s watching. You want me,” he argued.

“So you think just because I took Marnie’s place that I’ll sleep with you too?”

“Yeah, why not? Y’know you want to,” Nathan countered.

Growling, you pushed past him into your dressing room. “And here I was starting to think you might not be a total prick!” You caught the surprised look on Nathan’s face before slamming the door in his face, and that at least made you feel a little better.

——

It was the night of the performance, opening night, and you felt like you were gunna be sick. You’d never done anything like this before. What if you fucked it up and ruined the show? Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you groaned, wishing you could relax when a knock at your door made you jump.

“C-come in!” he called, your voice wavering.

When Nathan’s head appeared around the door you directed him a flat stare. “What, you here to ask me for a quick shag before the show?” you sneered, trying not to think about how handsome he looked in his suit.

“No!” he exclaimed hastily, though he looked slightly guilty. “No, actually I just came t’check on you. I figured you might be a little nervous.”

“A little…” you admitted, your glare softening somewhat and Nathan offered you a smile.

“Just… don’t think about the audience. Focus on me,” he murmured. “You’re gunna do great,” he assured you before his eyes trailed downward and quickly back up. “You look stunning by the way,” he exclaimed, quickly ducking out the door before you could chuck something at him, leaving you flushed and slightly flustered.

“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, but the word held no heat.

Waiting in the wings, you felt stage fright wash over you afresh as you caught sight of how many people were in the audience. Your heart pounding in your ears, your breath sped up as your whole body felt rooted in place. How were you supposed to do this?

You have no speaking lines, you reminded yourself, taking a deep breath, then another. All you have to do is bring Nathan his props and look pretty. All you have to do is focus on him…

Suddenly the house lights dimmed and went dark, a hush going over the house.

“You ready?” Nathan’s voice in your ear sent a shiver through you, and you yelped softly as he pinched your ass. Before you could turn to smack him he disappeared with a flourish of the cloak he wore, appearing in the middle of the stage in a cloud of smoke for his grand entrance to a crescendo of music and applause.

For a moment you stared at where he’d been in surprise. You’d never been that close before when he did that, you always just assumed it was some sort of trick with a trap door, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Allow me to introduce t’you my very lovely assistant, [y/n]!”

Nathan’s lilting voice calling your name snapped you out of your thoughts and you nearly missed your cue, hurrying on stage to stand next to him, bowing low to the audience before hanging off his arm.

“Took your sweet time,” he whispered, his brows furrowing slightly. “Thought you got cold feet…”

“How’d you do that?” you hissed, still trying to wrap your head around it.

“I told you, it’s magic,” he replied with a smirk, turning back to address the audience. “For my first trick—”

After your first near miss, the rest of the show went off without a hitch and you were actually starting to enjoy yourself, thankful for the brightness of the lights overhead which kept you from really being able to see the audience that clearly.

“You ready for the big finale, sweetheart?” Nathan whispered, slipping his arm around you.

“I have a name, you know,” you reminded him, but there was no snap to your voice and he merely raised his eyebrows at you.

“Are y’ready for the big finale, [y/n]?” he amended, bringing a grin to your face though you tried to hide it.

“Yeah, I think so. Are you?” you asked. Even though you’d seen him perform this trick several times it still made you nervous.

“You know it,” he answered, a genuine smile splitting his face. “Y’know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were enjoying yourself,” he pointed out, nudging your arm.

“I am,” you admitted, hurrying back on stage before he could react.

——

“And now for my final performance of the night, I will be recreating a feat first done by Harry Houdini himself!” Nathan exclaimed grandly to the audience, throwing his arms wide. “Let’s see if I survive!”

“Please don’t say that,” you muttered, helping him shed his cape and fitting the straitjacket on him, securing his arms in place while dramatic music played.

“What, y’worried? I can do this in my sleep,” Nathan murmured, flexing his arms, testing his restraints.

“I’m not… worried,” you argued, stepping back to gesture toward Nathan with a flourish for the audience.

“You are, you’re worried bout me,” Nathan insisted, a smug grin on his lips. “I always knew you cared.”

Scoffing quietly, you didn’t contradict him as the hook descended from above.

“Now that I’m fully restrained, my lovely assistant is going to attach me to this hook where I will be suspended upside down over the stage while I attempt to free myself from my confines!”

The audience gasped.

“Good luck,” you murmured as you helped Nathan lay down on stage, attaching the hook to a rope tied round his ankles.

“I don’t need luck, I have magic, remember,” he countered, grinning coyly at you.

“Nathan—“ you sighed.

“Can I get a kiss for luck, if y’think I need it so badly?”

Rolling your eyes skyward, you bit your lip, bending over him to press your lips to his before pulling back.

“There, now I feel better,” he teased. “When I get back down will y’give me a proper kiss?” he asked as you gave the signal for him to be lifted.

“We’ll see,” you muttered, watching him as he slowly ascended into the air til he stopped, the spotlights training on him.

Holding your breath, you watching him struggle, squirming in the straitjacket, til just like the other times he’d practiced it, he finally freed one arm and then the other, wriggling out of the straitjacket and letting it fall with a thud to the stage below as the audience gasped.

It was when he fought to free himself from the ropes tying his feet together that it happened; he was reaching for the hook to hold onto when the last of the rope fell away too quickly.

You watched in horror as Nathan fell, his name on your lips, the scene unfolding as if in slow motion.

This was not how this was supposed to happen, but the audience didn’t seem to realize it wasn’t part of the show. As soon as he hit the ground at your feet with a sickening crunch, you fell to your knees at his side, a sob catching in your throat, time snapping back to normal even as the world around you felt muted, your pulse the only thing filling your ears.

The quickly spreading pool of blood beneath him had reached your knees now, but you didn’t care, pulling his lifeless body into your arms, stroking his curls away from his forehead, the glamour having faded away.

He’d been telling you the truth this whole time— it was all real...but so was this. How was he supposed to come back from this?

“Nathan, you idiot,” you sobbed, stroking his cheek. “Why’d you have to do something so foolishly dangerous? You should’ve been wearing a wire, just in case…”

You felt your tears fall hotly down your face, blurring your vision. “What am I supposed to do now? I was just starting to like you, you ass—”

“You were?”

At Nathan’s raspy voice, your eyes snapped open and your jaw fell as you found him watching you, a small grin playing at his pink lips which just moments ago had been alarmingly pale.

“Nathan, you’re—! How?” you gasped, quickly wiping at your eyes, blinking back your tears.

“Am I in heaven? Cause you must be th’hottest angel I’ve ever seen,” he joked, his lips twitching as his grin widened.

“Nathan!” you huffed, unamused, your lips quivering. “You fucking asshole, that wasn’t funny! You scared me half t’death!”

“Were you cryin’ over me?” he asked, tilting his head as he reached up to wipe at your damp cheeks. “Don’t cry, [y/n]. I’m alright,” he assured you, his gaze softening, touched at how much you cared.

“How-how did you do that?” you asked, thoughts of anything but the young man in your arms far away.

“Well, I’m immortal, so…” he shrugged as he sat up, wincing slightly.

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, met with Nathan’s raised eyebrows.

“Is it? After everything else you’ve seen me do?”

“I guess not…” you conceded. “You’re still an ass though,” you exclaimed, helping him up to face the audience who applauded and cheered deafeningly.

“Yeah, but you still like me,” Nathan pointed out cheekily.

Opening your mouth to argue, you decided against it, too relieved that he was alive, that you had more time. Yanking him toward you, your mouths collided and he reacted instantly, his arms snaking around you as he dipped you low, kissing you back with a fervor that stole your breath, leaving you panting in his arms as he righted you.

“You wanna come back t’mine after the show?” he asked, watching you expectantly.

“Do you always go to these lengths to get laid?” you teased, even though you already knew your answer.

“Nope, you’re th’first I’ve died for,” he answered with a smirk that made you grin back. “Besides, I’m hopin’ it might be a little more than that,” he admitted as the curtain fell.

Searching his face for a moment you kissed him again. “I’d like that.”

———————

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator @xenteaart @gurlimtired @phoenixhits @super-unpredictable98 @nightingale-rose @salvador-daley @duck-noises @forenschik @simsiddy @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @captainsheeballs

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Thurs 4 Feb ‘21

Confirmation is here at last of Harry’s role in the film adaptation of My Policeman, brought to us by queer fave Greg Berlanti (and his husband). Harry will costar with Emma Corrin, who you may remember from the at the time inexplicable seeming Harry/Emma cross promo last August-- given the pains they took then to emphasize that the relationship was platonic, one assumes this film will go for a different promo tactic than the current one! They share a stylist though, so they’ll no doubt be beautifully coordinated. Harry will play Tom, which some people object to on the grounds that Harry is the wrong person to play the role of a closeted man which is certainly… one opinion. Aaaaand there’s plenty more of that discourse (and about him playing a policeman) to come over the coming months so I’ll just leave it there for now! Anyway and as for that current project, we got more DWD set pics today, featuring Harry in various costume outfits! There’s ones where his character looks bloodied, and ones where his character looks clean but absolutely terrifying, grown up frat boy from hell looks to give you CHILLS, plus some of Harry as Harry in a bright orange hoodie designed by his friend Kunichi Nomura.There was also {moustache spoilers} some weird facial hair on display. Okay then!

Project Defenseless has been launched to push Defenseless up in the streaming charts and push for radio play! The fan single project offers resources and organized pushes to get people streaming and promoting on all the platforms and reaching out to radio, and has fans making lots of very cool edits besides! “I see what you’re doing with defenseless! You are all incredible!” said Louis. That song is such a fitting choice for this kind of project! Its journey has been all about the fan response from back when Louis played it for us for the very first time in 2019 (it was the one everyone was screaming about from soundcheck clips for the few hours between that and hearing the songs for real even) and afterwards he told us about how although he’d always liked the song it clicked for him in a new way after getting the fan reaction, saying “something happened to it when I performed it live, and ever since then it really kind of got me,” and “the fans make everything sound amazing, they made it sound so good,” and “the fans for whatever reason really took to this song, so now it has a special place in me heart definitely”. Plus of course there was the long saga of fan stress when it seemed like it might not be on the album and rejoicing when Louis finally definitively confirmed that it would be, after what seemed like might have been a reversal on his part due to the outcry about it. And now she’s climbing all kinds of charts like a the star she is! The song shot up on itunes (#3 worldwide, #1 in 16 countries) just for starters and the project has only just got going. Louis commented on the stats-- “An album track off an album that’s a year old. You lot blow my fucking mind! Thank you so much!”

Louis also commented on a Jack Saunders (BBC indie music DJ) tweet and followed guitarist Johnny Took of the DMAs on twitter which is weird only in that he didn’t already.

There’s news about Zayn’s Zach Sang interview, and it’s not the most surprising news but it is very sad; Zach says “hi beautiful humans, this convo was scheduled for last week but we got a rain check from his team. this conversation can still happen, it ain’t over yet! we’ll keep ya in the loop. I listened to this album 7 times! we’re determined” Well... damn. However Zayn DID pop up with some spon-content but like… the WEIRDEST ad content?? It’s for Coors Light and, well I’ll let Zayn tell you about it! “They’re gonna see if they can put a commercial inside your dreams... which is kind of messed up.” HAHAHAHA I have nothing to add! What Zayn said!!! “So we’re gonna give that a go and uh see if it works,” he says, sounding appropriately skeptical, followed by “wish me luck”. Does this kind of sponcon count as malicious compliance? Technically he DID say the stuff he was supposed to- and he’s doing an instagram live for them Sat, supposedly. I can’t wait to see how that goes! Wish him luck! The latest installment of the NIL comic book video series is also out today, but just one this time instead of a pair. This week’s song is Connexion and the new comic shows us that the figure pursuing our hero is, drumroll-- himself! The call is coming from inside the house!

Unlike interview shy Zayn, however, Gigi is out there ready to overshare, as long as it’s to Vogue. She has plenty to say about giving birth to zaby Khai (newly revealed nickname: Khaiba) at home at the Pennsylvania farm. The article says that they decided to have the birth at home due to COVID placing restrictions on hospital births that would have prevented Bella and Zayn and Yolanda all being present, and after she and Zayn watched the documentary The Business of Being Born. “They placed a blow-up bath in their bedroom and sent their three cats and border collie away when the midwife expressed concern that the sphynx and Maine coon felines might puncture the tub with their claws,” the interviewer learns while horseback riding with Gigi. The article also says Zayn “caught the baby” but it isn’t a direct quote from Gigi and I’m thinking a bit of an exaggeration perhaps. Gigi had the baby at the Hadid family farm but she and Zayn have since relocated to live at his farm, which is nearby, where they say they will be raising the child, with Z’s mom Trisha coming to stay to help out for the first month, that Khai sleeps with them, and that Zayn said his experience of the whole thing reminded him of the birth in a lion documentary they’d watched. Neither mentioned it but it has been spotted that Gigi and Zayn each now have tattoos of the name, Khai, in Arabic.

Meanwhile, Niall surfaced only in golf guy mode- a Modest Golf announcement and a podcast appearance to promote the new Modest initiative to get young people into playing golf. He says they want to “get rid of that thing that’s been holding golf back for a long time, that it’s a boring sport…” and I know he means he’s trying to combat that idea but when I tell you I LAUGHED!

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 4 of 27: Potions

Summary:  Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 3

A/N: I’m blown away by how many people have started reading my fic. Thank you all so much <3

Words: 3550 Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!Reader, post-war Warnings: mentions of sex, references to trauma in the form of nightmares

The moments you and Malfoy shared on the Quidditch field that Saturday night kept replaying in your head for weeks. It’s beneath you. The sentence had stuck with you. You knew he was right about it. Ron Weasley didn’t deserve any more of your attention. However, it seemed impossible to get rid of the anger that filled you every time you saw him.

You spent so many days together and never wanted to fall for him – no, you tried to stay away when he first approached you, feeling it was not right. Hermione was your friend and you knew, this behavior would hurt her. But he wouldn’t stop trying to get you to go out with him and before you knew it, he teared down all the walls you had so carefully built around yourself. It was the first time in a long while that you felt like a normal teenager and just when you started to trust him and the first feelings started to blossom – he turned away, acting like your time together never happened. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. And who was Malfoy to understand that?

You avoided Ron whenever possible, keeping yourself busy with schoolwork and Quidditch. For the first time ever you joined the team and it turned out to be an amazing decision as it took your mind of things. Things mainly being Ron or Malfoy.

You watched Malfoy during meals out of the corner of your eyes. He usually sat together with Zabini, Parkinson and Nott, listening to them but not joining in the conversations apart from the occasional smile or remark. In class, he sat in the back, working quietly on his own. Sometimes you passed him in the hallways or the library and then you noticed him writing in the black notebook over and over.

A strange fascination kept drawing your attention towards the young man. He was not the Malfoy you grew accustomed to over the years – no more stupid fights or devious pranks. A lot less mean remarks and insults. Of course you knew the reason behind his change but it didn’t stop you from searching for his white blond hair in the crowds, wanting to watch him from afar.

You wondered about his life. He spoke about so many personal things that night. Although it was always with a sarcastic or cynical undertone, the painful honesty behind his words now sent shivers down your back when you thought about it. Yet, not once did you talk to him again afterwards – and he avoided you too as far as you could tell. At least, he always looked away when your eyes accidentally met from across the room, focusing on the book in front of him again. That notebook was another riddle. Although you already guessed what it was, you were curious nonetheless.

Soon the days grew colder and the leaves turned brown. Less time was spent outside, more and more did you find yourself huddled in front of the common room fireplace with a mug of hot tea and a good book. Hogwarts started to feel like home again. It was a slow process but each day the memories began to be replaced with new ones. Better ones. For some it was harder than for others. Ginny was one of them. She smiled and laughed loudly during the days but some nights were still difficult.

Tonight was one of them. You opened your eyes, blinking a few times as you needed a moment to fully wake up. Something startled you in your sleep. Then you heard someone tossing and turning – it came from Ginnys bed. You reached for your wand and whispered “Lumos”. Shining the light towards your friend, you saw her distorted facial expressions as her hands kept twitching. She was mumbling something you didn’t understand at first but then one word stood out – Fred.

You were up on your feet in seconds, kneeling next to her bed. “Ginny,” you softly touched her arm. “Ginny, wake up.”

Her eyes flew open and a gasp escaped her lips.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “Just a nightmare.”

“I-I saw –,” she stuttered and looked at you, slowly realizing where she was. When she did however, she remembered about him as well. You saw what would happen next by the way her lips started to tremble and without hesitation pulled her into a hug. Tears were streaming down her face, quiet sobs shaking her whole body. You held her for minutes, stroking her back, wishing you could do something to ease her pain.

At some point Ginny let go of you, reaching for a tissue on her nightstand. “I’m sorry for waking you up,” she mumbled after cleaning her nose.

You smiled empathetically at her. “Don’t worry.”

She sighed, smiling back at you sadly before she started rummaging through the drawer. “Damn,” she pulled out an empty bottle.

“What is it?”, you asked.

“It helps me sleep,” she explained and added – after she saw your worried expression – with a chuckle: “It’s nothing addicting, don’t worry. It’s just … ugh, I knew I forgot something.” She let herself fall back against the pillow.

“Where do you normally get it from?” You looked at the small bottle. It didn’t look like she bought it somewhere. It looked handmade.

“Madame Pomfrey.”

You nodded, standing up to grab a robe. “I’ll get it.”

“No! Oh, Y/N, please don’t, I can manage,” Ginny tried to protest but you shook your head.

“It’s fine, really!”, you smiled at her.

“She’s probably asleep anyways.”

“She always has someone working the night shift. I’ll just grab that –,” you took the battle and put it in the pocket of your robe. “– and I’ll be right back.”

 ***

Hogwarts at night always felt a little creepy. Dark and long hallways, ghosts passing you by and that eerie silence … A shiver ran down your spine and you sped up a little, wanting to be back in bed as fast as possible.

The door to the hospital wing was open, illuminated by a glimmer of light coming from inside. Good, so someone was there. You slipped through the door and made your way towards the office of Madame Pomfrey.

“Come in,” she called when you knocked on the door.

She was turned away from you, her nose stuck in a book. To your surprise, she wasn’t the only one in the small office. In front of her desk stood no other than … Draco Malfoy.

“Oh.”

Malfoy didn’t look at you. “The healer that has worked for my family for decades said it’s alright,” he said with a pressed voice, directing it at Madame Pomfrey.

The woman sighed softly before she turned around. “Well, honey, your healer probably also gets paid by your family.”

“What that’s supposed to mean?”, Malfoy asked, sounding almost offended.

“Nothing,” she replied. “But I disagree with him. Although the medicine has no immediate side effects, prolonged and excessive use of it can make it stop working altogether. I believe, this wouldn’t help you very much either and –”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted her, clearly having had this talk before.

Madame Pomfrey continued talking in a stern voice: “I refilled your bottle twice during the past ten days – it says so in my book here and I keep very good track of all my patients – so I can’t give you anymore.” A sad smile appeared on her face. “I’m sorry, honey. I can however offer you this.“ She pulled a small cotton bag from one of the drawers. “It contains different herbs. Put it under your pillow and it’ll help you sleep.“

Malfoy hung his head, looking defeated and exhausted. „What about the … dreams?“

„I’m so sorry, honey, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

With another sigh, he finally gave in and took the cotton bag. “Good night,” he muttered and left the room, without even glancing in your direction.

Feeling as if you had just witnessed something that wasn’t meant for you to see, you stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, waiting for the healer to speak.

“Poor boy,” she mumbled and shook her head with a sad expression. Then she looked at you: “What are you here for, dear?”

You took a step forward, holding up the bottle.

“Oh dear, this is really in demand tonight,” she took it from you.

So Malfoy was using the same medicine as Ginny? Interesting.

“It’s for Ginny Weasley,” you explained. “She’s not doing well tonight so I came to get it.”

Madame Pomfrey nodded, quickly glancing into her patient book. Then she disappeared behind a few shelves and came back with a fully filled bottle. “It’s been a while for her. I’m glad to see she’s needing less,” she said. “Give her my best. Good night, honey!”

“Good night,” you replied, smiling at her.

Stepping outside the office, you were surprised to see Malfoy leaning against the hospital wing doors. He looked nervous, shifting uncomfortably, drawing circles on the ground with his foot.

“You forget something?”, you asked when you reached him.

He looked at you for the first time, his eyes taking your pajamas and bathrobe. “Nice outfit,” he sneered.

“Have you looked in the mirror?”, you replied sarcastically, pushing the doors open. You referred to the sweatpants and the oversized shirt he was wearing, surprised someone like Malfoy even owned such clothes.

He followed you outside. “I was just –”, he began after a moment. “I wanted to make sure –”

“I haven’t met anyone on my way to Madame Pomfrey. She was alone in her office,” you interrupted him, guessing where this was going.

“Right,” Malfoy mumbled.

“Anything else?” You stopped by a large staircase. “I have to go up here.”

He shook his head. “No.” After a brief moment of hesitation, he added: “Good night, Y/L/N.”

You could hear the unspoken ‘thank you’ within those three words and sent him a very tired smile, just wanting to get back to bed. “Night, Malfoy.”

 ***

You were the first to arrive at the Potions classroom and leaned against the cold stone wall with a yawn. It was the last class for today and you looked forward to going back to your room for a quick nap.

Ginny had fallen asleep quickly after you had brought her the medicine and so did you. Although, you had a restless night after that, waking up countless times from weird dreams. All of them featuring one specific person: Malfoy. The two of you walking through the Forbidden Forest, sitting in your childhood room, talking on the Astronomy Tower. Waking up confused and not feeling rested at all, you wondered what it meant. Why would you ever dream of him? Just because you talked a couple of times and you accidentally got involved in very personal situations? Just because you kissed once? Oh, the kiss – also a frequent visitor in your dreams. Not that it meant anything. He was an objectively good kisser, nothing more, nothing less.

“Y/N?”

You looked up when someone called your voice. Ron walked towards you, noticeably agitated.

“You have a couple minutes?”, he asked.

No, was your immediate thought. “Yes.”

“Good, good,” he looked behind himself, checking if anyone else was in the hallway, fiddling nervously with his hands. “It’s about Hermione.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“Well, I know you told Ginny about … us,” he started. “She screamed at me more than once for it.”

You suppressed a smile.

“Anyways, I was wondering … please don’t tell Hermione,” Ron finally managed to get out.

His request irritated you. “Don’t you think I would have told her by now if I wanted her to know?”

“I … No, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You know how girls are.”

“Excuse me?” There it was again – the all too familiar rage starting to form inside of you. “How are we girls?”

He sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just noticed you’ve been avoiding me ever since school started and Hermione even started questioning me about this and I’m afraid it’s some sort of plan of yours to … y’know, get back at me.”

“What the fuck, Ron! How manipulative do you think I am?”, you spat at him. “I don’t care about your stupid relationship and I’m not getting involved. I know it’s hard for you to comprehend but some people actually still have values and don’t treat their supposed friends like shit!”

“Treat you like shit?”, now he started to raise his voice as well. “When have I ever –”

You interrupted him: “Don’t act dumber than you are!”

His face slowly began to turn red. “I never once said we were anything serious!”

“You joked about us moving in together after school!”

“Yes, Y/N,” he hissed. “I joked about it.”

You started at him in disbelief. “You’re such a jerk.”

“And you’re … you’re … ugh,” he stammered, his face still glowing red. “It’s not like I don’t have any feelings for you! I had a huge crush on you but Hermione …” He crossed his arms. “I can’t have both and she’s …”

“No, you can’t,” you glared at him. “Now, get the fuck away from me.”

Ron clenched his teeth, not making any efforts to follow your demand. “You have to promise me you won’t tell her!”

This guy was unbelievable. “I don’t have to do anything!”

“Y/N, you have to –”

“Has your mother taught you no manners, Weasley?”, a sudden voice said behind him. Malfoy arrived at the classroom door, nonchalantly letting his bag slip from his shoulders and leaning against the wall across from you. “She wants you to leave her alone.”

Irritatedly, Ron looked at him. “Shut your mouth, Malfoy. I’m talking to Y/N!”

“No, you’re harassing her,” his voice was cold as ice. “So leave or you’ll regret it.”

Ron scoffed. “Yeah, right. What are you gonna do, Death Eater?”

“Mr. Weasley!” Professor Slughorn stood in the now open to the classroom, looking at the three of you in shock. “How dare you insult your fellow classmate like that?”

Ron’s eyes widened. “I’m … He provoked me, Professor!” He pointed a finger at Malfoy who raised his hand in a ‘I-don’t-know-what-he’s-talking-about’-gesture.

Slughorn shook his head in disappointment. “Mr. Weasley, you will come with me. You two”, he looked at you and Malfoy. “Class will start in ten minutes. You can come in once your classmates arrive.”

You nodded and Ron trotted inside, head hanging low. Then the door closed behind him. Turning towards Malfoy, he was watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Beneath you,” he mouthed silently.

Letting out a huff of air, you rolled your eyes. “I don’t need you to come to my rescue. Ever.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t come to your rescue though. I just can’t stand the sound of Weasleys voice.”

“Right,” you stood up straight.

Anger and disbelief were the only two emotions you felt in this moment. To think that just three months ago, you were head over heels falling for this boy – and now, he acted like such an idiot. Running around, completely disregarding the feelings of others. Your feelings. Your eyes began to burn and you swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears from coming. He didn’t deserve any of that.

You could feel Malfoy still watching you. Thankfully, he stayed quiet.

Finally, the others arrived. Inside the classroom, you were met by an angry looking Ron. “Two weeks of detention,” he hissed when Harry sat down next to him. “For telling the truth about Malfoy! Can you believe it?!”

Serves you right, you thought.

“Open your book, page 124,” Slughorn announced when the students had settled down. “You’ll work on the assignment in pairs of two. Following pupils will work together: Miss Parkinson and Miss Granger …”

Before he could continue, both girls started to protest. He raised his hand. “No, you cannot switch. As we told you in the beginning of the school year, we will actively try to demolish the house rivalry. Making you work together is an important step towards this goal. So, let me continue, please. Mister Zabini and Mister Finnigan, Miss Weasley and Mister Nott, Mister Malfoy and Miss Y/L/N …”

Oh for gods sake. Did the universe desperately plotted to get the two of you to spend time together? Suppressing a groan, you grabbed your books, going over to Malfoys table at the back of the class.

Wordlessly, he grabbed his bag, removing it from the chair next to him.

“Seven years of not talking alone once and now I have to put up with you every second day.” You wanted the sentence to come out nicer than it did and mentally slapped yourself for sounding so mean.

Nevertheless, Malfoy nodded in agreement. “I’m just as thrilled about this as you are, Y/L/N.”

The two of you started working quietly and efficiently. Potions had always come easy to you, even when Snape used to be the teacher, and apparently, Malfoy seemed to be just as skilled.

“Did you tell anyone?”, you broke the silence suddenly while stirring the violet liquid inside the cauldron.

He quickly glanced at you. “If I did you would have noticed.”

Probably true.

“Did you?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

The two of you continued working for a while. You kept glancing at Malfoy, remembering the dreams from last night. A strange sense of curiosity formed inside of you. You watched him, the way he read the instructions carefully, mumbling to himself at times. Then suddenly your eyes began trailing off, wandering down to your lips. The moment in the storage room suddenly flashed before your eyes and without noticing, you licked over your own lips.

“Enjoying the view, Y/L/N?“

You realized in terror that Malfoy had stopped working and was now looking at you with an amused expression.

“No, what, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you uttered, your cheeks burning from embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, I know of the effect I can have on women.“

You snorted. „You’re awfully arrogant, Malfoy.“

„It’s the truth. Not even good Gryffindors such as yourself can resist the Malfoy charm,” he chuckled to himself.

“In your dreams, Malfoy.“

He didn’t reply to that but instead smirked at you, causing you to blush even more. “Don’t worry, my standards aren’t low enough for you.”

“Says the girl who slept with Weasley,” he had leaned in and whispered those words very close to your ear.

You knew no one could have possibly heard him but flinched nevertheless and lightly hit his arm. “Shh!”

Malfoy chuckled. “We’re done, Professor,” he then announced loudly and stepped back from the table.

Slughorn came over, taking a good look at your work. “Mhm, very well done,” he concluded after a moment. “You’ll receive an excellent mark for that. Well done! You can clean up and then start your homework assignment. Page 125.”

You smiled at the old man, happy about his praise and happy, that working together with Malfoy had been such an easy task,

“Anyways,” you began when the two of you had cleaned the table and stored everything away. “How’s that whole thing going?” You nodded towards the place where Astoria Greengrass was sitting.

Malfoy simply shrugged. “Every day I’m one step closer to go looking for a fake girlfriend.”

You snorted.

It was a strange feeling, having disliked Malfoy for so long and now being able to converse so easily. In your mind, you knew it would have been smarter to stay away, avoid him whenever possible. At least for your family that was the smarter approach. He had been a Death Eater and even though you’d never bring it up and strongly believed in second chances, his family still upheld these values. They still fought on the wrong side of the war. It disturbed you how effortlessly you had formed a connection with him.

You looked up from your book when you felt that strange sensation of someone staring at you. A little irritated, you searched the room with your eyes. It was Ron. The redhead was staring at you angrily from across the class and when you saw him like that, the weirdest thought popped into your head:

How mad would he be if I were to be Malfoys girlfriend?

It was a crazy thought, nothing you planned on taking seriously. But Ron admitted he had felt something for you. So how funny would it be to pretend you were dating his childhood enemy? Oh, he would be fuming.

You looked over to Malfoy who was scribbling on a piece of paper. No. No, this was too crazy. Right? Of course, it would be just for fun – just to get back at Ron. He even accused you of having some sort of plan to hurt him. You never considered yourself a person who was interested in revenge but this would be harmless. It wouldn’t even count as revenge. It would help Malfoy out and piss Ron off. Win-win. A few months of playing ‘happy couple’ in public and it would be done. A simple task. No way would you be able to develop any deeper feelings for that Slytherin. No way.

***

I hope you liked it! I’d love to hear your thoughts about this chapter! <3 A/N: I’m sorry that it takes me a while to get to the whole fake relationship thing. But it would feel so rushed so that’s why I’m trying to slow it down a little. I hope you can understand <3

CHAPTER 5

“Choose Me Instead” Masterlist HP Masterlist Tags: @writerdee1701​, @youareinllve​, @sjmahoney​, @detroitobsessed​, @takura-rin​, @jadam268​, @wynterwind​, @mina672, @renaissance-confiance​, @harpoon999​, @doitforthevine67​, @rinasrights​, @flowerpowerpixie​, @gold-flowing​, @starkssnarks​, @bookcornerkins​, @harpersmariano​, @markedsweetly​, @iraniq​, @pointlesscoconut​, @hvrcruxes​, @pillowjj​, @idkatee​, @jungjxxhyun, @magicwithaknife​, @graystherapy​, @sophia-gwendolyn​, @nxstalgicnxbxdy​, @sunsetsofanemoia​, @s4dthrills, @tommy-holland​, @lordfxxker​, @streetfighterrichie​, @awaken-the-sirens​, @destiels-assbutt13​ If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! :)

[winterhawk-olympic-bang]

How To Edit Your Writing

Guest Poster: Chronicwhimsy

Here is our final Writer Workshop post, written by Chronicwhimsy. Have a read and then head over to the Discord Server where we have a channel for you to take part in a discussion based on the post, with chances to share your own ideas too.

Editing: a drive-by guide

Hi, my name is Claire, and I’m an editor.

(Hi Claire)

I’ve been asked to give a quick guide on tips for editing your stories, as I’ve been a beta/editor for various fanfic writers over the years. I’m a professional editor, working for a publishing house in the UK, and I offer independent freelance editing too, via my website. I’ll be on the Discord server answering questions this evening, but I’m also happy to chat to people either through my website or even if you wanted to drop me a line on tumblr.

The key thing to remember about editing is that the end goal is to make your story the best it can be, and make sure your initial idea comes across as clearly and purely as you first imagined it. It’s about ensuring that the lines of communication between you and your reader are 100% open.

To do that, you need to have finished your story, because you can’t fix something that doesn’t exist.

Then you edit.

What now?

So, you’ve finished your Winterhawk Olympic Bang Fic, and you’re wondering what to do next?

The very first, and most important thing you should do? Celebrate. I mean congratulate the hell out of yourself, pat yourself on the back, and have some cake. Finishing stories is hard. Getting through a first draft is one of the trickiest parts of writing, so you should be proud of yourself, and proud of your story.

Because in a short while, editing is going to make you hate both.

I mean that in the nicest possible way of course, but you absolutely are going to be thoroughly sick of this whole thing by the time you’re done, and you’re going to question everything you’ve ever written. You’re going to get a close-up view of all your narrative bad habits which will make you think you’ve never had any skill at all, and you’re going to re-read your work so many times that it’ll feel trite, old, uninspired. This is normal and it is your brain lying to you. If you remember nothing else, remember that!

“The writing itself is no big deal. The editing, and even more than that, the self-doubt, is excruciatingly impossible.” Jonathan Safran Foer

Don’t lose faith! Editors and editing exist for a reason, no first draft is perfect. You’ve done something amazing in finishing, and now you’re going to make it incredible.

Before You Start - Take a Break

You know the phrase “can’t see the wood for the trees”? It could just as easily be “can’t see the story for the words.” It’s never recommended to go straight into editing as soon as you finish writing, and part of the reason for that is because you’re too deep in the story to be able to assess it objectively, or to catch things that are missed out because you know they’re there, but the reader wouldn’t.

“Once it's done, put it away until you can read it with new eyes. When you're ready, pick it up and read it, as if you've never read it before.” Neil Gaiman

Most writers and editors advocate putting a story away for a month or so before returning to edit, so you’re looking at it with fresh eyes. Obviously, with a Big Bang (or other fic event) this sort of time is usually at a premium! Try and make as much space as you can while still leaving yourself time to edit.

If you really don’t have any time, one trick that can help is changing your location. If you write in your room, can you relocate to your kitchen? Or a café (if you can safely)? Could you print it out? (Printing Top Tip: if you do print it, try and do it double-spaced - this makes it easier on the eyes, and gives you room to make notes. Also, serif fonts can often be easier to read than sans serif fonts, as it gives stronger distinctions between different letters.)

The Filter System

I like to think of the editing process as a series of different filters which, when used one after the other, produce a finely-sieved finished product. Each filter stage has slightly smaller holes than the one before it, as you look increasingly closely at your work.

Filter 1: Structural editing

Does the story make sense? Is the pace okay? Do all the scenes work where they are, or would they be better elsewhere? Do some scenes need to be there at all? Is the characterisation consistent? Does anyone change names halfway through? Did you forget what time of year it was set halfway through?

Filter 2: Line editing

Is this phrase as tight as it could be? Have you repeated yourself anywhere? Does this sentence add anything or does it throw the pace off? Have you gone overboard with adjectives and similes? Have you been too sparse with them?

Filter 3: Copy editing

Is your style consistent? Did you start writing in present tense and switch to past tense? Could this scene transition be snappier? Are there any bits that you want to tidy up? Have you left any half-finished sentences because you got distracted before you could end it?

Filter 4: Proofreading

Is everything spelled correctly? Have you caught all the strange grammar mistakes?

Some of these things might be picked up by your beta reader if you have one. Different beta readers have different styles, and also they will work based on their relationship with you and what you prefer. Some may stick to proofreading and consistency-checking, others may be more confident to dive right in and look at structure, pacing and characterisation. Some may work through the process with you as you write, others may only look at the story when it’s complete so they can get a full overview. There is no right or wrong answer, and having a conversation with your beta about your respective styles at the start can help you work better together!

Filter 1 - Structural Editing

For this stage, you want to read your whole story through from start to finish, and resist the urge to tweak anything to begin with! You will want a way of making notes as you go through because as you do, you’ll make yourself a cheat-sheet to help you with your line edit. Things to keep track of:

Character name spellings

Character ages

Character relationships (drawing a relationship web can be very helpful to visualise this!)

The time span of the story - the date it starts, the date it ends.

As a subset of this, I find it can be very helpful to set up a spreadsheet with a timeline of what happens in the story, and who is involved. Doing this both chronologically for the characters and in order of how it happens in the story can help you keep track of what characters know when, and also when the readers find out certain information. You might have one of these from when you were planning your story (as detailed in Sara Holmes’ workshop). If you’ve kept it up to date with changes to the plot and structure as you’ve written, this will be super helpful.

At this stage, you’re looking to see if everything works as a consistent story. You want to check to see if it feels like it’s the right pace, or if there are bits where it drags or rushes through the action. Why is this? Are there scenes which aren’t adding anything to the progress? Could they just be referred to in passing, or removed entirely without impacting the story? Are there other scenes which need to be added to provide more detail and growth? Is there anything that you as a writer know that is essential to the story, but you forgot to actually put in the text?

“Crafty writers...don't allow Exposition to form Lumps. They break up the information, grind it fine, and make it into bricks to build the story with.” Ursula K. Le Guin

You’re also looking to see if the characters feel true to themselves all the way through. Do the relationships spark? Do they sound like themselves? Can you hear them in your head?

Some people recommend doing several structural edits, with a different focus each time. One pass to look at the pacing, one pass to look at the characters, one to look at the story arc. You’ll work out what floats your boat, but you will be re-reading this story a lot of times before you’re done editing - which is why it’s very important to write what you love and want to read! You’ll go through many stages of hating this story before you let it go, and that will be even harder if it wasn’t something you enjoyed in the first place.

Filter 2 - Line Editing

So you remember I told you to make all those notes during your structural edit? Here’s where you’re going to use them. Now’s the time to go through your story line by line and check that the details in your cheat sheet are correct all the way through the story. I’ve written a novel that I initially set in November, but by the time I finished it, I’d decided it was taking place in early May. I had to go back and fix all the dates and weather descriptions to make sure the action hadn’t actually been yeeted forward six months spontaneously in the middle of a conversation.

Arguably, the line edit will be the most painful part of editing. At this stage, you will be taking a fine-tooth comb to everything you have written, examining it to within an inch of its life, and casting judgement. You’re going to find every stylistic tic you have (for me, everyone is constantly quirking their eyebrows and smirking like they’ve got cramp in their facial muscles), and you’re going to get rid of them (a person only has so many eyebrows, and they can only quirk so far). Now is the time to kill your darlings - don’t hang on to anything unless you feel it’s really doing a job to further the story and the characters.

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler's heart, kill your darlings.” Stephen King

If you have ever worried about the unbearable sensation of being Known, the line edit is where you will experience that with every word, and you’ll be doing it to yourself. This is when the doubts will really start to creep in and you will maybe feel like everything you write is unoriginal, derivative trash and unfit for human eyes.

Here I’ll reiterate what I said above:

This is a normal feeling, everyone experiences it when editing. E V E R Y O N E.

It’s a lie. No-one else will ever read your story in this state, no-one else will ever read your story this closely. Of course it feels obvious and uninspired to you - you wrote it. It’s your idea, and you’ve read it several times, it holds no surprises for you. (I may be projecting my feelings from every time I’ve edited something here, but…)

You’ll also be catching any ELEPHANTS or whatever your mammal of choice for placeholder text is that you’ve stationed throughout the story as a flag for you to come back and add in a name, or a food, or a song title later. You know, the things you decided were a problem for Future!You. I have bad news, the future is now.

Top Tip: if you have changed someone’s name halfway through, DON’T for the love of Mike, just do a straight find and replace to correct it. Because that’s when you suddenly find out how many other words actually contain names (Mark became Bill? That’s great, until your characters are going to the superBillet to buy groceries). Some word processing programmes have a “whole word” option which is your friend, otherwise ensure to put spaces either side of the word when you search. If you don’t, you’ve just made another horrible job for yourself...

Filter 3 - Copy Editing

Once you’ve made it out the other side of the Line Edit (and given yourself a nice treat to congratulate yourself because that stage is HARD), we get onto copy editing. This is basically the set-dressing stage. You’ve built the house, you’ve decorated the room, and now you’re just making sure every bit of furniture is in the right place for optimal feng shui.

Here’s where you go through and go, do I really need a dash here, or could I just use a comma? Could I use fewer commas? Could I go in and move all of @kangofu_cb’s commas around because I’m the sort of person who will come into your house and change how you hang your toilet paper or where you keep your ketchup.

Now is the time to be as picky as possible, like you’re an interior designer for the most demanding client in the world and the ornament must be exactly equidistant from both ends of the mantlepiece and facing precisely south-west. Things that may have just survived your line edit will be measured again, and if they’re found wanting, then they get binned.

“Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very’; your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.” Mark Twain

Another thing you might like to do here is check that all your features and things are correct. Did you make a wild claim about the lifecycle of salamanders, or the average price of corn and then never go back to verify this? Take a second to just do that now. It may be that you decide it’s not a problem (I received one copy edit note saying that an idiom used in a book wasn’t recorded until 200 years later, and I made the editorial decision that no-one would care), but for bigger things you may want to make sure you’re accurate.

If you google it (as I just did, to make sure I was definitely giving you the right information), copy editing is often conflated with line editing, and that’s because in reality a lot of the elements of copy editing actually wouldn’t usually be done by the author, and are probably irrelevant to fanfic. The copy editor is responsible for ensuring the book has a consistent grammatical style in line with the preferences of the publisher (em-dash or en-dash, curly quote marks or straight ones, how you deal with acronyms, what needs to be italicised, etc. etc.), which isn’t necessarily required for fanfic. In reality, for fanfic I’d use this stage as a second, lighter line-edit to see where things can be tightened up in phrasing, as well as perhaps a preliminary proofread where you start to mark up any spelling errors.

Filter 4 - Proofreading

By this stage, you’ll be exhausted, and sick to death of the blasted thing. But the end is in sight! Now you’re onto the proofread. This is another close read, where you go through and check for spelling errors, typos, missing full stops, strange formatting stuff (which probably will be less of an issue as AO3 basically makes everything uniform anyway).

Before you even start this, change your font.

We’ve all been there, thought we’d caught every spelling error, every weird typo, only to spot six immediately after posting. That’s because after a certain point our brain becomes used to the font we’ve written in, and will automatically correct things that aren’t right. AO3 has its own unique formatting - colour, spacing, font - and the minute your fic appears on there in this new format you brain wakes up and is like “oh shit, yeah, that’s not how it should be.”

By changing the font before you proofread, you preempt this step.

Another thing to remember: it’s unlikely you will ever catch every mistake. Published books regularly go out with a smattering of typographical errors throughout the text - how many first editions of books are valuable because of misspellings that slipped through the net? You’re only human.

“Connie's other job was proof-editing which she did very badly. Transferring the author's corrections to a clean sheet of proofs was something Connie was unable to do without missing an average of three corrections a page, or transcribing newly inserted material all wrong... she put angry authors' letters about the mutilation of their books under the cushion of her chair to deal with later.” Muriel Spark, A Far Cry from Kensington

Often, spelling errors and things you would look for in a proofread are things that a beta reader will pick up as they go, as they’re the easiest things to spot, but it’s also worth looking over yourself for anything your beta might have missed.

Whether you decide to follow any or all of these steps, always do the proofread last.There is no point carefully spellchecking a chapter you are then going to delete, or proofreading the whole thing, but adding loads of new paragraphs later that either don’t get looked at or mean you end up having to proofread twice. That’s the only hard and fast rule when it comes to editing, and it will save you a lot of unnecessary work!

FREEDOM

And then, finally, unbelievably - you’re done. Your literary child is ready to leave the nest. Resist the urge to keep re-reading and tweaking. Instead, click “publish” and give yourself a nice little treat. You’ve earned it.

Miscellany and Disclaimers

These editing stages are ones that would be applied to a published novel. An author would probably do this several times - once on their own to get it ready for submission, then perhaps again with their agent, but the really heavy work would be done with their editor. The structural edit would be done under the advice of an agent or editor where the author looks at their comments, rejigs things accordingly, and lather, rinse, repeat until everyone’s happy. The editor would undertake the line edit, and the author would decide what they wanted to keep or change. The copy edit and proofread would be done in-house or sent to freelancers, with queries and changes wafted past the author for clarification or approval.

Self-published authors will often hire freelancers to help at various stages to get feedback and advice.

Very rarely would an author go from draft to final published piece by doing all their editing alone. Because it’s hard fucking work, and because your brain will get exhausted.

In light of that, you need to remember:

You’ve written a fanfic

The editorial standards of fanfic are significantly less stringent than published books

Editing by yourself is really hard work that many people are often paid to do for published books

No-one is paying you for your fanfic

Fanfic is supposed to be fun

Some published authors will edit and rewrite and edit and rewrite again and again. At a panel I attended, Joanne Harris said that if she didn’t rewrite her work at least five times she was being too easy on herself, while Joe Hill said he usually aimed for three rewrites - Joe edited as he went along, going over the previous day’s pages before continuing, where Joanne completed her manuscripts before editing. Elizabeth May has talked about her stages of drafting, starting with her Trash Draft, then her Clean Draft, and then rewriting and editing after that.

These are people who are writing professionally, getting paid for their work, and so the time they put in has monetary results. If you want to write original fiction, their advice is extremely valuable.

For fanfiction, it’s a large time investment for something you’re doing as a hobby for free. If I’m strictly honest, I’m fairly lax with my fanfiction editing. I do structural discussions and tweaks with my beta reader as I write, and then a spell check. I’m also aware that my fanfics aren’t narratively complex, nor do they seem as polished, rich and deep as some of the other works out there. That’s fine by me. You simply need to find the level you’re happy at, where you can still feel proud of your work but you’re enjoying the experience.

In the end - it’s all for fun!

Resources:

Online

Curtis Brown Creative: An Editor’s Guide to Editing Your Novel

Joanne Harris: Ten Tweets About Editing

Joanne Harris: Writing Resources

NerdsLikeMe: Beta Reading vs Proofreading vs Editing

Books

Stephen King - On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

Ursula K. Le Guin - Steering the Craft: Exercises and Discussions on Story Writing for the Lone Navigator or the Mutinous Crew