#never again am I drawing such complex clothing
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more art for AUs that will never see the light of day
(shitty quality compression erased sqq's wrinkles and I'm mad >:C)
#definitely liked one brush over the other#never again am I drawing such complex clothing#pattern wise at least#I probably forgot some details#svsss#sqq#lbh#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#luo binghe
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Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 8
A/N: So sorry this chapter is coming so late into January. I hope everyone is doing well. Let's get this chapter rolling!
Summary: Love comes with many sacrifices.
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Chapter 8
He’s up all night as if consumed by grief all over again.
Adrian is familiar with the feeling, the ache within his chest, which devours him whole.
It stings in his body and mind when he rises with the sun, clouded and forgetting the previous night’s memories. He tells himself he will never be vulnerable with another, over and over, but his time spent with you draws that closeness he needs. He was craving more and more of your closeness and it grew easier and easier to feel it with you.
He was sure that if the consumption of wine continued, he would’ve done something he regretted, unravelling all the work to form an attachment and friendship that took so long to create.
It was the wine, he told himself. It causes anyone to do stupid things.
But it’s not the wine, he knows it. He knows it’s an excuse – a poor one to use when facing something far more lethal than a friendship on the line. He knew it had to be wrong, to put you in a position that made you downright uncomfortable, and the soft touches the two of you shared brought him far bigger feelings than he’d ever felt before.
It wasn’t far from trusting someone anyone, he knew it was something that could’ve been done long ago to betray him. And despite it, Adrian fears it could come any day, no matter how much his emotions grow.
He feels like a boy with a childish crush, not fully understanding the entire complexity of it all. It feels far more real than a simple crush: Adrian yearns for it, begs for its stay, to flourish and build into something much more. It’s a desire, a wish to anyone who would listen.
No, it would never happen. He told himself over and over again, cold in the bed as if there had been another beside him. It was far different to that fateful night, and the ghost of arms around him felt more tender than they had ever been. She is my friend, my closest friend.
Adrian had never felt colder.
When the sun reached his eyes, he squinted, as if its heat would finally put him out and catch him ablaze. Anything to end my misery. He wondered if more wine had been left, but it would’ve started a routine he dared not start again. Not with you around.
He said he would never return to that, not when you stayed.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered into the chill of the air, awareness hitting him like a blow to the face. If he was truly wanting to remain sober for you, something was deathly wrong. “I truly am becoming a Belmont.”
He rises with the rest of the day, telling himself he will apologise if you’re still stiff with him, but he will continue as if all the previous days had been the same. Nothing to hide, except for muddled emotions.
It’s the reminder to himself when he looked over the fireplace mantel, sitting cosy above with its pretty dark curls he made by uncoiling dark thread, and brown buttons for eyes, the skin tone as close to yours as possible, that he cannot have you finding this of all things.
-
“Are you ready?”
You draw your eyes over to the blond, readying a chestnut mare, the two of you standing in the castle stables. Adrian tells you that the town is not too far, it may take a bit longer to get back with such a large supply he hopes for. The castle’s food supply was dwindling, and Adrian kept a list of what needed to be restocked.
Adrian was kind in giving you some spare clothes, simply because you didn’t want to get your pretty dresses dirty: simple dark pants with a pair of riding boots, a dark green vest and a white tunic shirt that was too big and you had to cinch in with a belt. You also carried on you a small satchel, a cloak and gloves in case of the cold.
“Yes,” you shuffle closer to him, wary of the large beast in front of you, its beady black eyes staring right into your soul, “it’s a beautiful creature.”
“Indeed,” Adrian answers, soothing the horse by scratching just behind the back of its neck, behind its ears, “she is a gentle soul. She will not be frightened by you.”
You warily stare ‘her’ up and down, inquisitively, “What is her name?”
“Oh,” the Dhampir seems understandably abashed for not giving her one, “I did not think that far.”
“Really?” You stare between him and the beast, surprise blooming in your voice. It only makes sense for you to give her a name now! “How about… Lady? No, no—or maybe—”
“Luna?”
His voice catches you by surprise, but it is a wonderful idea. “Luna?”
“It’s a pretty name,” Adrian strokes her snout affectionately, “I like the other name too.”
“No, I like Luna more.” You follow with a guide of Adrian’s hand in knowing where to stroke Luna; just above her snout, his hands lingering longer than you both expected in this subtle affection before he pulls back. His touch still lingers, and it comforts you the size of his hand compared to yours.
“Shall we get going?”
“Indeed.”
It takes some minutes of humbling yourself to get onto a horse- with Adrian’s help- but you’re far more ashamed of how you embarrassed yourself in front of him. It’s not graceful how you straddle, the discomfort that comes from your legs so far apart and how you’re already dreading when it moves.
Adrian is quicker than you, almost leaping on with ease as he sits behind you, his hands coming from behind to grab at the reigns.
“Easy,” you think he’s telling the horse to be at ease, but you realise it’s directed to you, his hands reassuring you, “You’re not going anywhere, little witch.”
You’re thankful he can’t see the way your face heats, the way you wish he would do what he said, but you have to stop those thoughts from occurring.
The laugh that comes from you is more of a wheeze, and you correct yourself before you can embarrass yourself further. “Are you talking to the horse or me, Adrian?”
Adrian chuckles lightly at your jab but knows it is all a tease. He guides the horse out from the stable, and almost immediately begins a sprint. The castle seems like a speck in the distance the further you travel, trees whipping past like shadows of figures you thought were human.
Animals could be heard within the trees as if they surrounded you, but instead of fear, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and across your face. You imagined this was what it felt like to be a bird, or the fastest horse free in a field. It was in some way what you imagined what a vampire felt like hidden and part of wildlife.
With the speed and wind on your side, you arrived in the town by the time the sun was highest in the sky. You forgot how lively a town could be: bustling with life. People of all ages, genders and skin tones wandered the market. Mothers with their babes and young children playing around her skirts. Those who came to sell and trade within the markets. Couples of old and young fill the streets with tender displays of affection for one another.
It made you blush when you looked around, realising that some could maybe say the same about you and Adrian looking like a couple. Would Adrian notice this too? Would he feel ashamed to be associated with you?
You didn’t realise you had been distracted by your thoughts when you felt a tender hand shaking you gently out of your thoughts. Blinking owlishly, Adrian stood before you, his golden eyes were wrought with concern. “Are you alright?”
“Overwhelmed, but I’ll survive,” you told him, puffing your chest out to show you weren’t feeling all sorts of worries. “Have you got the list?”
Adrian doesn’t want to shake away his concerns for you, but he unravels the crumpled note from inside his coat pocket to hand to you. You scan over it quickly before you nod. “See you back at the carriage?”
“I must hire one first,” Adrian chortles, “but yes, I shall see you then… be safe.”
Be safe.
It’s enough to make your heart swoon, and you nod, fleeing like a lovesick teenager who just said hi to her crush. You absorb yourself by finding the necessary things, trying your best to not get engrossed by the things around you.
You get mostly through your list before something catches your gaze.
An array of jewels of different sizes and colours greet you: some attached to bracelets, necklaces and brooches, others gaudy and lavish and sitting for all to see. It doesn’t take you long to fully stop and be standing in front of the older woman’s stall, looking over them carefully.
If only I had enough money.
“The peridot would suit you nicely, young lady,” you look up to catch the warm gaze of the woman, her crow’s eyes wrinkled. “Or alexandrite. Very pretty, will catch anyone’s eye.”
“They are very pretty,” you muse, though you already know you won’t be buying anything from her, it is always nice to look around. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Light colours would suit your skin tone,” she begins as she points to different items, holding them as if for you to compare until the next thing to come from her mouth leaves you practically gasping, “I’m sure your husband would agree.”
“Husband?”
“There you are.”
The first thing you notice is the arm that snakes its way around your waist, a body leaning in closely to you as you feel your body freeze on the spot. Adrian is looking over the jewels with you with interest, softly musing to himself, “I knew I’d find you here.”
You’re gawking now, no words are coming to you and it’s only when the old woman brings up impatiently that you’re buying anything that Adrian pulls a bag from his pocket, casually handing the woman the change as if it's nothing. “The peridot I think would look lovely on you.”
He’s moving away, back to the wagon with you following behind like a lost puppy.
“What was that?” You whisper when it’s just the two of you, watching the world go by.
“What do you mean?” He asks as he pulls out the necklace to inspect himself. “I thought this colour would look nice on you.”
“Yes,” you replied, fiddling with the hem of your gloves. “It’s just—”
Adrian seems to read you easily, and he knows when you’re showing some discomfort. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”
“Far from it,” you laugh it off, though your heart hammers to great lengths, “She had been the one to say I had a husband.”
Your laugh leaves Adrian silent, quieter than he normally is, and it leaves you spiralling. What was he thinking? Was he too uncomfortable with the choice of words?
“Turn round for me?”
You blink thoughtlessly at the question, slowly following as you turn your back on him. You have to stop yourself from gasping aloud when his gloved fingers graze over the back of your neck, pulling back your curls to give him a proper view.
You’re shivering, and you realise what state you’re in, crumbling just from a singular touch, but you try your best to keep your cool. Adrian steps close behind you, his scent is strong in your nostrils as he collects the links of the necklace, putting it around your neck before securing it.
“It suits you.” He quips, knowing that his words are having an impact on you, before he turns away to the cart, you follow hot on his heels to nag him for making you feel so unsteady.
-
It's sometime later on the cart on your way back when Adrian suddenly touches your hand.
Even when he wears his leather gloves, you can feel the warmth that resonates within him, the raw strength and power that comes from him. He’s a killer, a killer who could’ve overpowered you a long time ago, but who you put your undying trust in.
Your shock freezes you as you look over at him, his gaze on the road ahead, but you know for a fact, that he’s aware you’re staring. “Is something the matter?” He draws softly, looking at you through his peripheral.
“You’re…” You can’t find the right words, but you direct your gaze to his free hand occupied in holding yours, and he follows. “My hand,” he states coolly, though you feel as if there is a hidden motive to this. “You were cold.”
Right, you tell yourself that, and a harsh chill bristles through you before you have time to think it through. He’s smart, too smart.
“Oh." You don’t consider he’s telling the whole truth, but you don’t shake away the way he’s holding your hand. It brings a great comfort to you. You’re still side-eyeing him as he continues on the road, the silence that envelops you is calming and quaint.
You’re very aware that your heart is hammering, the necklace wrapped around your neck is being twirled as you think heavily with your thoughts. Shall you tell him now how you feel? Would that break everything you built with him? It’s only a matter of time before your feelings are split accidentally and your friendship is cursed.
You squeeze his fingers to get his attention, “Adrian, there is something I wish to tell you-”
You’re lurched forward from your seat at the front of the cart, the suddenness of it is all to not still your nerves. The horses snorted in anxiousness, and all around you stood still as if holding their breath. Adrian’s eyes were deadest on something within the trees, and you couldn’t help but feel even more nervous at what could be out there.
“Night creatures?” You whisper to Adrian, but he only gives a glance your way, a way to tell you it was way, way worse.
It was still far too early for creatures of the night to be out, but with the fading sun passing over the horizon of the trees, that was when you spotted them.
They blended with the trees at first, but you could see their silhouettes, standing as rigid as statues, ready as soldiers for war, staring down at you like vultures. They can’t be just human bandits on the road, their presence alone gave off a bad omen. You don’t know how many you count, their clothes blend as one with the growing darkness as the sun settles.
Adrian’s voice is already speaking to you, cutting the silence with a knife.
“Y/N, get to the back of the cart, do not come out until I tell you so,” it’s not a warning, but an order, and you don’t want to waste his time by stalling. His voice is serious, eyes stone cold as he glares down at the figures not far and lurking around the trees.
Adrian easily hops down from his spot as he flicks the scabbard off his longsword. You watch in a mix of wonder and dread at the scene that unfolds.
The figures draw in closer, watching and snarling as Adrian holds a solid line, almost unfazed as he holds the sword close to his face.
His sword glows suddenly as if imbued with holy light, a shocking flow of blue flames engulfs it, glowing and hissing with life. The flames flicker close to Adrian’s face as he readies his action, changing his stance before he is on the closest one.
He’s quicker than your eyes can register, a shadow of crimson shifts as he moves at lightning pace, soon in front of the hooded creature as his sword moves as one with him. He is no longer holding it, rather, the two of them move as if it is a dance, fluid and graceful.
A hiss of a cry lurches into the darkening skies, one is down on the ground, its skin hissing and bubbling as it disintegrates.
Two more are on him with a flash, but Adrian fights with valour and dances around him, swords crashing against the sound of their taloned nails. You’ve not stuck around to know what was happening, having crawled through to the back of the cart for safety.
Once huddled in a spot surrounded by crates, you can only rely on sound: clashes of silver clang loudly around you, bodies fall and you have no clue if Adrian is winning or not. You can only assume he is, from the way you can still hear the glow of his magic sword, twirling around as silent as he is.
Another noise resonates from just outside, creeping behind you and you freeze, before the sound of splattering blood and a gargled choke dies down. You look just to your left to see that the material of the cart is splattered in the thick, viscous liquid, and you shudder that Adrian is here to protect you.
You don’t know how many of them are left, and you can only think that the best thing for you to do is protect yourself if one finds you inside. You scramble to your feet, clumsily looking for any blade that could be of use. You find only a flimsy dagger, and you clutch it close to your chest as you settle in the back of the cart, trying to calm your racing heart.
Something draws in close and you stutter a gasp before you realise it’s too late. The figure pauses almost dramatically, inching closer to the back of the cart, their movement deliberately slow, trying to edge as much fear out from you.
You pray it’s Adrian coming to your rescue, to tell you the area has been cleared, but as the face emerges through the curtains of the entrance to the cart, it’s not those golden eyes you’ve grown to love staring back at you.
They’re red, crimson as the blood that will soon spill from you.
Your screams fall silent as the face erupts into a smile, wide and fanged as the rest of its vampiric kind. The dagger in your grasp feels more like a twig as you stare down, wide-eyed the vampire in front of you.
“What a pretty little thing you are,” his voice is soft yet hoarse, and his red eyes seemed unblinking as he seemed to taunt you from the entrance, blocking one of the ways you could escape. “What a delicacy you’ll be.”
Your fight or flight had kicked in and instead of either of them, you had become frozen in your spot, dreading that this would be the way you died, dying in a smelling cart as a vampire ripped at your throat.
“Don’t worry,” he coos, inching closer, a clawed hand bracing the inside of the cart as he further draws inside, “I’ll make sure I’m quick with you.”
-
Adrian's POV
Blood soaks through the leather of his clothing, but he is thankful it is there’s and not his.
The last of the creatures die within an inch of him, sizzling into nothingness as he stares down what remains. Ash of their bones and the burnt clothes remain, the reminder to anyone who crossed him he would do it a hundred times over.
All in the name of love.
He had once didn’t understand the meaning of love, the way it would pull at his heart and lurch within him. He needed it as if it was necessary like water or food, a hunger that he yearned for in the waking hours of the day to the late hours of twilight.
He is his father's son after all.
Dracula did it in the name of love, and he found he was killing his kind all to keep you safe.
“Y/N, it’s safe.” He calls you to, and he listens for any sound except for the sounds of nature surrounding him. It’s startling how quiet the outside world could be, and how quickly his heart could plummet in knowing something was deeply, deeply wrong.
His heightened senses could not smell blood, not the blood that came from you but what had fizzled and dried. It seemed almost deathly quiet, but Adrian’s mind was racing, the pulling of his heart meant you were not here, or worse, he had failed to keep you safe.
A scream brings his attention, and he wastes no time in hurtling towards the back of the cart, his heart racing.
No, no, no, if he's failed in doing the one thing, he's failed you and himself.
He hasn't even got his face an inch through the gap before he senses something telling him to move out of the way, an object being flung just where his face would be. His head snaps to see a dagger clatter to the dirt just behind him before it turns to what stands before him, a snarl leaving his curled lips.
You were safe, for now, though the vampire he failed to miss had his disgusting fangs inches from the base of his neck, his clawed hands wrapped around you, keeping your body locked to his chest.
“Son of Dracula, the Messiah,” the vampire greets him, observing him with a lazy smile. You continue to squirm in his grasp, eyes locked onto Adrian for any semblance of safety. “Care to take a bite of your pet first or shall I do the honour?”
His venom is bitter and his anger is boiling at the words he uses for you. How dare he call you a pet!
“Unhand her now,” his voice resonates inside him and he channels his father, the voice he would use and boom across the castle grounds, “I will not ask you again.”
“Ah, ah, one step and I spill her neck open.” The hooded vampire fusses, his movements almost consoling to Y/N as he runs a hand down her cheek, tears drying on her skin. “This one is a waste if you keep it.”
He laughs easily as he stares Adrian down, his next words bringing Adrian close to lopping his head clean off. “Though it is no surprise, you are Dracula’s son, keeping human women around as your pets. It was Dracula’s weakness,” he leant close into Y/N, drinking up her tears as he licked his tongue up the side of her face, “and it will be your undoing.”
Adrian is hunched as if ready to pounce to get him off you, but his golden eyes are never leaving you. A cry leaves your lips when his tongue licks up the side of your face, and you’re shivering, hands clutched around the tightened grip of his forearm.
There is a silent connection that only he can feel when you are close, and it comes from your eyes that stare back at him. They don’t seem as frightened as they did before, and he believes he knows you want him to be calm and not quick to action. Your eyes calm him like a storm approaching, ready to destroy all in its wake.
The vampire holding you runs a hand through the links of your necklace, the hands glimmer in the low light inside and it’s the only thing Adrian sees, trying to not imagine it coated in blood. “Such sweet, sweet blood.” The vampire says, his face drawing into your neck, but you stop him from doing anything further.
With your hands clutching his forearms tightly, Adrian watches how you shut your eyes tight, before shouting the words that resonate through you:
“Ardeo!”
It amazes him every time when you speak that spell, the way flames spill from your hands as easily as water flowing. The endless cycle of nature flows through you, and the power within your hands cries with a mighty scream that neither Adrian nor you know who it’s coming from.
The flames roar as they lick up the clothes of the vampire, and his screams join in fright as they clutch around his arm, a grip in itself that never lets him go. They take and they take, scorching the fabric as they bury deep into the skin.
The vampire is held in place as if something within an endless cycle of life and death ties him to his spot, scorched by your touch as he squirms and screams. He sounds like a pig, Adrian notes, but the sound is as annoying as the actual animal dying.
The vampire is quick though, and though his arm is distorted, blackened and charred, he shoves you away from him, his nails catching you by the skin of your arm, nicking it as you collide with the side of the cart.
Adrian is there in a flash to end it all, to end its misery, to end its hellish torment. He does it for you when his sword is a flash of lightning, quick to the bite and cold as a kiss to the vampire’s neck, coming out the other end before anyone could realise.
Your breath is caught in your throat as you’re unaware you’ve been cut, though the adrenaline dies down as quickly as the body slumps in front of you, turning to ash before your very eyes.
Adrian is beside you, a hand tending to your arm before the sting catches up with you. You hiss in pain, realising what had happened and how deep the wound is. Three long scratches reach down to your elbow, bleeding freely.
“Careful.” He’s quiet with his words, delicate as if treating you like the fine China you are. He rips part of your shirt, wrapping the open wound to stop the flow of blood. He reminds himself he needs to clean it when you return to the castle.
You’re staring at him as he does so, your eyes glazed over as if in a daze, and before he has time to register if you’re okay, he feels something press against his cheek, and he realises it’s your warm lips, chaste and sweet.
“Thank you,” you murmur, leaning into him as the silence fills the cart. Adrian is silent for what feels like forever, but his mind is screaming. You kissed him, and he’s gaping like a dead fish. You kissed him and he feels like a boy all over again.
He shakes out of his thoughts to collect himself, to calm the rush of blood that goes straight to his head, and he feels lightheaded, but he gladly accepts your embrace, cradling you to his chest.
“No... thank you.”
-
Latin Translation:
Ardeo - (I) burn
#castlevania alucard x reader#castlevania fanfic#alucard castlevania#alucard x reader#adrian tepes#adrian tepes x reader#reader x alucard#itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes#reader is a witch#mixed race witch#half black reader#part 8#witch! reader#alternate universe
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OKAY WOW THERE WAS A VERY BIG POSITIVE RESPONSE TO THE TELEPHONE GAME, HI
FOLLOW THE TELEPHONE GAME BLOG! @hws-telephone
I thought about making a discord, but to be entirely honest, I really don't want to manage that. In hindsight it might be good for discussions and feedback's sake, but my moderator days are behind me (I used to be a discord and in-game mod for a Minecraft server and I think I would rather eat my hand than do that again.) We will. See.
PLEASE READ MY FOLLOWING THOUGHTS ABOUT THE EVENT! I would love to hear feedback, but I think this kind of event may have to be a trial and error sort of situation. I've never hosted an event before and this is one that will move semi-fast. I will also need to be holding decent communication with people!
• Skill level does not matter. Anyone is allowed to participate regardless of their skill level or materials of choice, so long as those who work traditionally are able to get clear/well lit photos of their submission
• I will need to hold an experimental round capped at 5-7 participants. I do not know how long I should give people to complete their part. Life gets in the way and I know not everyone is fast (I am very much not fast). However, considering there will be a large number of participants, we gotta get moving! I think as of right now, everyone would have 3-5 days to complete their parts, and if they need an extension they get 2 days. If we need more time, that's possible! THE FIRST SIX PEOPLE TO FILL OUT THE GOOGLE FORMS (linked further in the post) WILL BE CONTACTED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE EXPERIMENTAL ROUND.
• Once we get into it, there could be a short-format and long-format group? Short format being people only get 1-3 days to work while long-format gets a week? The different groups differ based on complexity? Unsure. Need community feedback on this. OR we could just have two separate groups co-running so people don't have to wait forever to play.
• GOOGLE FORMS SUBMISSION HERE FOR PARTICIPANTS
• Once I have The Participants, their usernames will be ordered randomly and that'll be the order the drawing is passed around.
• If this is an event with multiple rounds... Maybe each round has a different theme? I know I have different groups of people following me (off the top of my head, FrUK, FACE fam, and Nordic centric blogs in particular). I think the first round will just be using my design for Nyo!Austria because I'm interested to see if we use a character whose clothing isn't able to be referenced by a quick google search, how that will be affected by the telephone. Unsure.
• I will start the experimental round and the very first Big Round. Other people can volunteer to be the starting artist in the future!
• No posting your submission until the end of the round!!! This is very important. The point of a telephone is you only know what the person right before you did!
• When it comes to someone's turn, I will be reaching out via Tumblr DM (or through another contact method if that is preferred). I'm considering asking someone to co-host this event with me for organization's sake, but I don't. Really have someone to do that. So!
If there's anything else we need to talk about, throw it in the replies!!! This is really going to be a trial and error kinda event until we get it down! Ideally, this would be a fun year round project/event!
BELOW THE CUT IS JUST ME TAGGING EVERYONE WHO REPLIED TO/REBLOGGED THE ORIGINAL POST
Hi, you replied to/reblogged the interest check so you get Priority News that there is a telephone game sideblog to follow @hws-telephone and that if you're still interested there is a submissions post pinned to the blog.
THE FIRST SIX RESPONSES WILL BE CONTACTED FOR THE EXPERIMENTAL ROUND.
@doodlin-moons @hws-lceland @ironic-orange @vikingosten @soulsembers @yaqamole @dappy-dappernette @losnordiquitos @tema-makes-art-sometimes @dandelion-coffee-bear @spiritmoon23 @genpaele @astrophilic-soul @batataaurdoodh @the-heaminator @krazys-ass-emporium @sixcatsinajacket @hoasens @wackylittlegal @starsilversword @untitled-kitsune @2p-nyotalia
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"When he reached a displacement of eight he told us he was dead."
"He sees the wolves have formed up around him. Eight of them."
"The greatest gaiaforms of our solar system are eight in number—or, if you prefer, [N]ine—but asteroids and minor planets have them too. And in their sidereal generosity, these gaiaforms will protect us, if we ask them."
Fist of Eight Moons
"Only in the Ascendant Plane—where a well-defended idea is a reality—do these moons, in this small way, still exist."
"Eight Barons and an Awoken prince - and only one of you. I so dislike betting on the underdog… But you are resourceful…"
"The man turned to his left and saw a familiar, weathered face staring up at the eight Barons of the Tangled Shore."
[...]
"’Sundance’ appears to be the victim of a single, catastrophic wound from a Devourer Bullet, modified to fire from a Scorn launcher. Projectile classified as ontological.”
“Define Devourer Bullet.”
“Payload matches the ballistics of a Weapon of Sorrow or a comparable Hive implement.”
"We are all pinched silhouettes impaled on the twitching of infinitely long spiderlegs."
"You must reckon with yourself. Can you see the path ahead?
Do you know the shape of your trial?"
Auseklis
Ogdoad
Guñelve
Arevakhach
Schläfli
Compass rose
Isotoxal | edge transitive
Eightfold Path
The Star of Lakshmi
The Star of Ishtar
The morning star
First light of the new dawn
Venus
[Consult Cryptarchy's pre-Golden Age stacks for more information]
"Is it a simple answer? Perhaps none who serve you have the capacity to grasp your vision. And so, rather than waste more of your time and attention on explaining something they will never hold, it is enough that they act as you will. The Witch and her Hive carving single-mindedness out of the cloth of the universe, that whispering Nightmare seeking the fullest gamut of existence, the Upender destroying all differentiation. Shadows on the wall.
In this case, it would be hubris to think I have understood your work, that I alone among your Disciples have grasped what purpose it is we serve. All of us must see darkly reflected.
But there is relief in simplification. There is kindness in winnowing. So then, why is this proliferation permitted?
The shadows, showing the truth by their casting. [...]
There: I have resolved the conflict within my thoughts, and I am at peace again. Once more, I am only your violence and nothing more.
The Final Shape will realize us as we strive."
—Unknown Disciple of the Witness, Inspiral
Who am I?
Call me Coyote. Call me mantis, serpent, Cagn, Anansi, call me Sri-cleans-his-brother's-stomach. Call me the grandmaster of semiosis, the jeweler's hammer which gilds the signal, a purposeful mob none of whose members know its purpose, the infinite regress of enigmas, a self-questioning answer, the word not spoken, black ice, cataract of mimes, the ache and fever of overthought while bedridden with illness, the intolerable thorn of frustrated inquisition, gray regret at the end of a fruitless day, the thing which is unlike your beloved but arbitrarily recalls your beloved to agonizing effect, architrave of the no-window, needle driven in flush with skin so that desperate fingers cannot pull it out, sweet petal, unmemorable, crystal death, the provably improvable.
Here at the center, I lie to you the truth. You have everything you need to know it, but I will give you a clue, as the duelist gives warning before she draws. The answer you seek to the Dreaming City is simple, not complex.
In primordial space, timeless creatures made waves. These waves created us and the others. Waves were the battles, and the battles were waves.
Fleeing all W'rkncacnter, Yrro and Pthia settled upon Lh'owon. They brought the S'pht, servants who began to shape the deserts of Lh'owon into marsh and sea, rivers and forests. They made sisters for Lh'owon to protect and maintain the paradise.
When the W'rkncacnter came, Pthia was killed, and Yrro in anger, flung the W'rkncacnter into the sun. The sun burned them, but they swam on its surface.
Marathon 2, Six Thousand Feet Under terminal: ax1-40^23<094.95.28.85>
Oryx went down into his throne world. He went out into the abyss, and with each step he read one of his tablets, so that they became like stones beneath his feet.
He went out and he created an altar and he prepared an unborn ogre. He called on the Deep, saying:
I can see you in the sky. You are the waves, which are battles, and the battles are the waves. Come into this vessel I have prepared for you.
And it arrived, the Deep Itself.
Books of Sorrow
XXXI: battle made waves
Verse 4:1 — battle made waves
#trace the vermicular path#follow the daito rabbit#destiny the game#destiny#destiny 2#destiny2#destinythegame#destiny lore#the traveler#Ishtar Collective#destiny speculation#the veil#the witness#the numbers mason what do they mean#crashing my scion tc into the witness at 100mph#macrocosm#eight points
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Eee /pos
What program(s) do you use? And what tools/brushes are most frequently used on your pieces?
Do you do warm up drawings and if so what do you usually do for warm up drawings?
How do you pick colour schemes/pallets for pieces?
(sorry if I ask too much)
-sparrow
What program(s) do you use? And what tools/brushes are most frequently used on your pieces?
I use Procreate on my iPad Air 5 with an Apple Pencil Gen. 2. I find it's the perfect balance with having a lot of great tools and options but without being incredibly complex like photoshop which can be a lot slower to maneuver around. I love Procreate because it's touch screen unlike Photoshop which would usually require a mouse and that often causes my joints to really flare up. Procreate is also very portable and easy to use. I've had it for years now and I love it, never once thought about switching programs.
As for brushes, I use a modified 6B Pencil. I modified it so long ago, I don't quite remember what I did to it but I think I just adjusted the sensitivity to pressure and it's relationship to thickness so I had more control over changing the line weight. I literally use this brush for everything. Sketching, line work, colouring, shading, writing, all of it.
The other brush I use is Dry Ink and that's mostly for texture, writing, or if I want a harsher lines on a piece.
I highly recommend taking a look at DrizzleDrawings brush packs. They're an artist on Tumblr/insta/tiktok and I am HUGELY inspired by her. When I need a different brush for something I always go to their brush packs which can be found on their linktree/cardd. If you have money for their Patreon you get free access to both brush packs AND tutorials!
Do you do warm up drawings and if so what do you usually do for warm up drawings?
I actually don't do much warm up drawings haha. I normally try to be very relaxed about drawing so everything starts out without many expectations. I just kinda have an idea and go for it. And if I like it, I continue to add to it, adjust it, critique it, and see it to the end.
However, when I have the time I really love doing anatomy warm ups with LineOfAction. It's a website that gives you free reference photos of people (and animals, nature, hands, etc) They have options so you can set it up on a timer, choose the age range, sex, clothing, etc. It's free and requires no account so it's super easy to use and I love practicing my anatomy.
How do you pick colour schemes/pallets for pieces?
This is my worst skill as an artist actually lmfao. I get fucked over by colour theory every single time. I literally hate it.
My way around this, is to use the same colours in like every piece. I have my own colour pallets that I made throughout the years and I just reuse them over and over and over again.
If I'm really struggling for colours, I often use pinterest and look at colour pallets there to try to get some inspiration. Or, there's this theory I forgot the name of. But basically you take a pallet of colours and then lay a single colour over it and lower the opacity. This unifies the pallet. It's the same idea of taking a ton of dollops of different coloured paints and then mixing in 1 drop of yellow to every colour to give it a certain unified tone.
And oh my god, don't worry about asking too much. I literally LOVE talking so much, like ask me as many questions as you want I LOVE getting to answer them/gen. My toxic trait is that if someone asks me a question I will literally never shut up, I get so excited.
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(I’m not sure if this sent the first time or not, so I’m sending it again jus to be safe lol)
• What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?
Let Me Down Easy by Gang of Youths; can’t even pick a lyric because I adore the whole song too much. It all resonates with me (and it’s extremely catchy).
• What is your Enneagram type?
6w5. INFJ-T for Myer Briggs.
• Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?
I’m most productive when I put them on for background noise while I complete tasks, but I often don’t even remember what the video is on because I accidentally tune it out lol.
• Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend.
Never had one. I loved making storylines with plot in my head instead of a singular imaginary friend.
• What is your go-to way to fall asleep?
In clothes twice my size with hot herbal tea, reading/drawing until my eyes get tired.
• If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)
Am I allowed to say that I wouldn’t? I often poke fun of my name for its uniqueness, but I’ve fought hard to reclaim it as my own after hearing it he used in such a negative light growing up. I also just like that I’m named after a mountain :)
• What is your favorite of Redacted's audios, and why?
Imperium storyline. I love the complexity and depth of it all, and hearing beloved characters have to navigate such a awful world such as the Imperiums is fascinating to me. And the sound design FUCKS it’s insane.
• What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don't get the hype for.
Vincent. I appreciate the purpose that his character serves, and I genuinely love all of the characters, don’t get me wrong, but he just doesn’t do it for me like how he does for others. I’ve been enjoying seeing his character w/ this summit stuff, however! Maybe I was just getting bored of him?
• Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.
Twilight series. It’s so stupid and awful and perfect in all the right and wrong ways. It makes me laugh, and I love poking fun of it.
• Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?
Huxley. I know in my heart of hearts that we’d bond over so many things. I wanna pick at his brain fr
• Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you're tired, and if so, what is it?
Childhood memories/stories. I guess it doesn’t feel all too easy to share them when I’m in my right mind, but when I get sleepy, it feels nice peel back the curtain for a while.
• Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.
Uh uhhh uhhh uhmmm something sweet with a vitamin water?
• Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.
Assuming you mean music, my favorite atm is one I made for a redacted OC of mine. He is lovely and I’ve been trying to discover more music that matches his taste.
• What's your guilty pleasure media, and why?
Audio roleplay channels all the way. I love creating characters and putting my imagination to use.
• And whatever else you think tells me about who you are!
Lover of all things nature and stars. Graduated w/ my masters in Alternative Medicine & Holistic Healing. I feel a deep personal/spiritual connection with water, and I’ve been told that I don’t play very well with others. I don’t have much to say with my spoken words, yet reading and writing are beloved hobbies of mine :)
This took me a second- not because it’s not obvious but because this is a boy I don’t think about often, I’ll be real with you. Then I checked the March Redactedness brackets, and I knew- it’s gotta be you and Camelopardalis.
It’s such a definite match; like, everything about you would work so well with him. Your personality types reveal a positive, thoughtful, compassionate person, as does your work in Holistic medicine, and that’s exactly the type of personality that would sit well next to a Serenity daemon. That’s not even mentioning the love of water, nature, reading, and tea which also just strike me as very Cam things to love; like, you would love so many of the same things and share so many hobbies.
I bet you’d have a great house together with either a bursting, varied tea cupboard or a drawer stocked full of the specific kind you two like. You’d have so many books and shelves, and I like to imagine Cam reading some of them to you. That’d be such a treat for him. Outside the home, y’all would go out in nature loads- maybe hiking or just peaceful walks? They’d be so serene and sweet, the two of you holding hands and picking flowers, Cam helping you keep your footing.
Song:
You've been hiding in plain sight, and it appeared, oh I know/ Loving you once only feels wrong, I need you/ I always knew I'd find you, to be here is worth the wait to/ I'm not lying when I say, "I've been stuck by the glue onto you"
Admittedly, I picked the song by vibes. The lyrics are cute, of course, and I always make sure to choose love songs, but the lyrics weren’t as important as the feel. I wanted a song that would be perfect for a little afternoon stroll with your beloved, not too slow or fast, not sad but sweet and light and a little bouncy.
Runner-Ups:
Other attributes of your personality type suggested you to be cautious, loyal, and ambitious which is why I’m giving you James as a runner-up. I almost imagine him exclusively a coffee drinker, so pairing him with a tea person is fun and a little silly. The way you say you’ve been told you don’t play well with others was also fun and gave me Smartass-vibes which led me to give you Aaron as your second runner-up, in addition to the fact he could really use a partner to get him out in nature.
note: thank you for waiting and sending in an entry 💜
Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌
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I’ve been tagged by @katastronoot @sheirukitriesfandom and @dirty-bosmer (thank you all! 💖)
This was sitting in my drafts for a while, just forgot to post...
Not tagging anyone ‘cause idk who hasn’t done it yes... Feel free to take if you feel like!
1. are you named after anyone?
Grandma originally named me after her little sister who died in early childhood. She was babysitting and blamed herself for that accident.
But that was too dull, widespread, and didn’t felt mine, so my nomatophobia started progressing. Finally I renamed myself after Fairytopia Barbie. Best friend started calling me Elina in 2008, when I was pretty much into Barbie movies fandom. It stuck, I started telling everyone it was my actual name, even at work. Then finally changed it legally and never regretted.
Barbie movies is everything, yeah.
2. when was the last time you cried?
One weekend ago.
3. do you have kids?
Nope, and it’s most probable I won’t. Already in my 30s, didn’t start wanting/regretting yet. I like kids, kids are like flowers, but let them bloom in someone else’s garden.
4. do you use sarcasm a lot?
Not really. Being neurodivergent, I have troubles with a sense of humour in general. Many things feel more offensive than funny to me, and if I try it myself, it might be rather insulting than funny... So only with closer friends, I guess.
5. what sports do you play/have you played?
Drinking games, lol.
Not a fan of sports and competitions. I prefer fitness\wellness, where you don’t have to compete or show off. Never liked team games as well. As a kid, I enjoyed tennis or badminton a bit, but again, just for fun.
I do yoga a bit, would like to excercise more though.
6. what's the first thing you notice about other people?
Style, clothing, hair, accessories. Whether they have some fandom\music\etc merch on. This way I might identify them as the ones like me, the ones worth talking to - at first sight.
I can be generally cautious, even hostile, about people, esp males and elders. And in general, I prefer meeting people online or in some safe spaces / meetups where everyone shares some interests/hobbies/fandoms. It’s easier for me.
7. eye color?
blue gray. and I do wear color lenses - need them to see things anyway, so why not have fun with colors? Last year I had red ones and wore them casually.
8. scary movies or happy endings?
Happy and clever endings that give you food for thought and make you feel feelings - I’ve been a long time Pixar fan, you know.
There was time I’ve been into mystic horrors, some years ago, but now I’m old and tired even for them. LIfe is a dystopia by itself, I need more kind stuff.
(don’t watch movies much these days, I prefer games).
9. any special talents?
Some say I am outstanding and bold,and that I have great creative potential, and that I inspire some people just by being myself... IDK.
10. where were you born?
a city in the mountains
11. what are your hobbies?
I’m a a self-taught seamstress, I’ve been sewing most of my life (because I always loved creating things myself & from my very childhood wanted some unusual clothes that couldn’t be purchased in regular stores). At times, I took comissions, then were 5 years of cosplaying.
I’m into corsetry (waist-training and making corsets myself).
And drawing, of course.
12. do you have any pets?
Nope. Used to have an aquarium in the past.
13. how tall are you?
5’7″ (170 cm)
14. fave subject in school?
Biology (just in elem and mid, then it became too complex), english.
I was also one of the best in literature, but I didn’t like it at all. Just figured out how to get exc grades and did it for the sake of being praised.
15. dream job?
Illustrator, artist.
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MY BOY...God he is just so pretty. I love him so much. Twilight Princess was my first Zelda game and so he will always be my favorite.
-He did pout about losing the wolf pelt but he has settled for fur-lined jackets that are well broken in.
-Does own cowboy boots, mainly cause the other fuckers boys keep just giving them to him.
-You can see the chest tattoo peeking out...I am soooo tempted to draw them all. Definitely one of the more heavily inked along with Legend and Wild.
-Had to have room to run around as Wolfie.
-I see him wanting and maybe owning a ranch? He needs a weekend away to ride Epona and be away from the city. (Our girl BETTER have come with our boy or we RIOT)...also gives him an escape with y/n when she gets close enough with them. He'd love to show her an escape from the stress of the city...and how wonderful life with him can be.
-His clothes are more durable than comfortable. He likes broken in clothes, especially good leather.
-Just as charming as Warriors but in a more, good boy way. Definitely, boy next door vibes...no one expects the violence he is capable of when you come between him and his singular reason to exist. He loves his darling so much.
GAH I COULD TALK ABOUT HIM ALL DAY
Oooh, if that man approached me... huehuehue
First off yes, If Epona can traverse through the portal in canon, she can travel beyond dimensions! (The horses of the modern world WISH they could be a single percent as amazing as Epona!)
Chest tattoo? I wish to to pull the collar of hos shirt out...and see the full view... huehuehue
Ahem, I mean, from a creative standpoint, of course...
I feel that the main house the chain reside in is nice and large. Not because they wanna be extravagant, but those dungeon crawlers learned a thing or two about making a large building veeeery complex (with traps and runes and places to hide their prisoners...)
But they do have large spaces and most of them DO have their own little properties. So Twilight would have a ranch with many acres of land and Legend would have a set of warehouses and a huge library that only the rest of the chain have access to.
Four would have a private personal forge to create things. (Not to be confused with the main forge he uses to make the chain their weapons)
Time would have probably bough some property on the water for Wind (and made sure the sailor had a few old fashioned and modern boats so he can expand his skill)
I like how it looks like a punk but the moment someone would speak to him, it's like whiplash!
(When he dresses for 'business', ooooh he is as deadly as his blade. Then again they all have that trait)
If he manages to obtain something of hers that has her scent, he stays as Wolfie, basically just drilling her scent into his memory, so he could never forget it. (Even though he acts intoxicated if he does that for too long, but the others merely swipe away whatever he's latching to in order to snap him out of it. Even though they'll probably do the same thing when somewhere private)
Remember, this boys be cray-cray, but they are gentlemen! (Even if they have some crooked morals these days. But for their beloved, they can reign them in!)
A fantastic piece! I just wanna snatch his jacket, I bet it's nice and comfy!
Phenomenal work!
#also I found my sketchbook! it took several days but I found it!#be prepared!#linked universe#yandere linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu#loz#mafia au#not my art#lu twilight
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OUAT Thoughts Pt.29--Episodes 16-17
I have watched through S3E17; spoilers DNI. Also, spoilers warning for anyone further behind than I am.
—Bae’s death was a knife wound. Bae’s funeral was twisting the knife, adding salt, and dunking me in a vat of lemon juice. Everyone who knew him put dirt on his grave—including his son and Hook. Hook is what really gets me.
—Oh, wait. Not everyone. Rumple didn’t even get to be there. That destroyed me. Rumple did everything to find Bae, and still Bae died and Rumple didn’t get to be at his funeral. That’s so fricking unfair.
—My feelings on Regina and the Wicked Witch are b*tch (affectionate) vs. b*tch (derogatory). Regina shows up for their magic duel wearing black, red gloves, and perfect lipstick, and I’m all, “Yes, Queen, look fabulous while you duel 🫶🙌💅.” Zelena spends time getting dressed up for the duel, and I’m like, “Girl, stop being so petty and dramatic, what’s your problem.”
—The last thing Regina needed was a bratty older sister. When it comes to parents, neither of them really got a great draw. Each of them got one decent parent and one really crappy parent. And it’s not like Regina asked for or wanted the life that Zelena is so jealous of—but Zelena is so self-centered, she would never even consider that. I get the feeling Zelena would be an enthusiastic participant in the Trauma Olympics.
—But she got hers. Turning green because she’s jelly of Regina is a hilarious twist.
—Oz is a gorgeous set piece. I don’t know, or care, if it’s actual decor or CGI, it’s absolutely stunning. Gold and vibrant green are just mean to be together.
—While Oz itself is beautiful, I’ve actually found the Oz characters to be disappointing. So far, all we’ve got is the Wicked Witch, the flying monkeys (who barely even count), and a rather fleeting, meaningless encounter with the Wizard. While I do usually love the intertwining of multiple stories with each other, it feels like Oz needs more structure and world-building on its own. Having more of the characters present as their own entities (the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, Dorothy, the Cowardly Lion, Glinda, and that’s just off the top of my head) would have been more rewarding after the long buildup for Oz.
—I’m quite pleased to see the silver slippers. Yeah, the red shoes are iconic, but using the OG silver is splendid.
—I love how Hook gives zero hecks and wears his pirate clothes in Storybrooke. Everyone else wears clothes appropriate to the environment, but Hook is still 99% pirate. (The other 1% is the fake hand he attaches instead of his hook.)
—That one time he wore a knight-like disguise in the Enchanted Forest was a very good moment for him. And for me. That outfit was gorgeous on him.
—Blackbeard was a rather generic pirate. Now, I don’t expect he’s ever going to come up again, at least in any significant capacity, so that’s fine, but he could’ve looked more intimidating. If even Hook is going to be somewhat afraid of him, he should look like the beefiest, wickedest, meanest pirate on the high seas.
—I adore Ariel for preferring swimming to walking. One of the things I hate most about OG!Ariel is that she acts like walking is for some reason superior, even though she’s never frickin tried walking in her life. OUAT Ariel has done both, and now she’s made an informed decision. Not to mention, mermaids having realm-crossing superpowers makes her preference logical (although preferences aren’t always, and don’t have to be).
—Eric’s cloak with the Ursula clasp is dope.
—Just when I thought Hook couldn’t get any angstier, now he has extra drama with Emma. And the word “yearning” has canonically been used to describe his feelings for her, so….
—Rumple being reduced to a slave to Zelena’s whims is killing me. Regardless of which side he fights for, he’s always been a beautiful, lively, crafty, witty man. He’s easy to root for because he’s almost larger than life, because he has complexity and intelligence and vitality. And now he’s been brought so low, and that eternally-entrancing spark in his eyes is gone. While his posture usually reflects his self-confidence, now his back is bent and his shoulders are hunched. Zelena has taken an uncannily bright man and destroyed him. I need somebody, anybody, to rescue him, because the worst part is, nobody can even be there for him because Zelena makes him dangerous. It’s all or nothing, and the nothing he has right now scares me.
—His powers of future sight are terribly inconsistent. Which is easily explained by the difficulty of interpreting the future, but still—how did he not see this coming?
—Regina’s method of training Emma is rather amusing. Also the fact that Emma just had to be extra in her use of magic.
—Poor Snow. She has not only a stubborn husband, but also a stubborn daughter, teaming up to try and build a crib. That baby will be safer sleeping on a table *jk* *don’t leave babies on tables*
—This entire town needs to schedule family therapy sessions with Archie. Sister-to-sister, couples, stepdaughter-to-stepmom, and Henry can have a great-uncle to great-nephew chat with himself. Really, though, these people might consider having conversations instead of internalizing everything and becoming evil. Just a thought.
#once upon a time#ouat#baelfire#Captain Hook#Emma swan#regina mills#Ariel#the wicked witch#zelena#rumplestiltskin#the charmings#oz#martianbugsbunny reviews
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A vroid of Hololive’s number one detective Amelia Watson!
She was surprisingly difficult to make
The first thing about Amelia’s outfit is that she isn’t wearing a trench coat. For the longest time I thought she was wearing one, but no. She’s wearing a brown jacket and some sort of shawl/cape thingy.
With someone like Haachama, the shawl was easy to make since it’s not very long but once it gets to be as long as Ame’s there isn’t really anything that vroid can do. So she’s wearing a sleeveless trench coat and big puffy sleeves with an opening, which is the best I could really do.
The second problem (or first really, since I did this first almost needlessly) is that I tried to make Amelia’s shirt looked tucked in. It never really worked because her skirt is high waisted and so the shirt she’s wearing is “really short” and you can’t bend it the way you could if it was at her waist.
Speaking of her skirt, it being high-waisted meant I couldn’t make it a skirt and had to make it a dress. Not really a big deal except for the textures were a bit harder.
Finally her hat. Her hat isn’t textured right and I honestly probably could’ve figured it out but I was so tired of the little details that I couldn’t be bothered to. The way her hair is textured isn’t the same as her clothes, which makes perfect sense.
But it means that it’s terrible for texturing hats, especially ones with complex patterns. The lines I had to draw on by hands I think give off the right vibe of the type of hat she’s wearing.
There are lots of other features I never even attempted, such as her back straps, which probably wouldn’t have be too hard. The rest of her accessories would’ve been hard I assume.
So yeah. Amelia’s design wasn’t simple to recreate in vroid. If I had noticed from the start that she was wearing a shawl, I might’ve just stuck her in a trench coat but I was in too deep and kept going.
Next vroid I make I probably will make better design decisions. Amelia in a trench coat is a good translation of her outfit.
But then again. Despite everything, I really like how those sleeves look.
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just dropping by with some questions if you don't mind , for how long have you been drawing and do you have any tips for drawing humans ? (i've been drawing for a while but i am used to only drawing animals , but your's and others art has insipired me to go out of my comfort zone and try to draw humans)
Hello!! I apologize for the delayed response, I hope you don't think I was ignoring you! (Mother's Day at a flower shop is insane haha)
But!
I have been drawing basically my whole life? What started as stick people slowly turned into chubby chibis with enormous heads, which turned into slightly more human-looking people in a mix of cartoony anime style, and then taking art classes and majoring in art helped grow my style into still more human-looking people (lol), which is a general mix of cartoony-anime and somewhat realistic?
I'm gonna sit and think really hard and long on good tips for you!!!
Draw from pictures: Still photos have the advantage of allowing you to focus on something unchanging, so you can study one thing in unwavering detail
Draw from life: Watching how bodies shift and move, how muscles contract and stretch, how emotions change the whole posture - all of that will train your eyes to grasp a more loose gesture of the whole picture, the body as a whole
Study human anatomy: bones, muscles, skin - how does it all connect? Knowing what's inside an arm will help you understand how to build an arm from nothing
People watch!! So many body types! So many ways people hold themselves and walk! So many hairstyles and clothing styles! People with walkers and wheelchairs and prosthetics!
Break it down: Basic lines turn into basic shapes, which build up into more and more complex ideas until you have planes of a face, muscles weaving in a thigh
Gesture drawing: Quick studies of the way the body fits in space! Exaggerate it like animators do, stretch and pull the body to make it more fluid and expressive! Practice mode: Time yourself. See a pose, scribble it down loosely in 10-30 seconds. NEXT!
Figure drawing: Drawing a real person in front of you is probably the best way to get used to drawing bodies (I know it can be awkward, but they don't have to be naked, although that does help if they're cool with it! You can even watch your roommate or family member from across the room and go from there.)
Get obsessed: Sounds silly? Well, if you get seriously invested in someone cute you know, or a character you really like, then take it to the next level and DRAW THEM OVER AND OVER AGAIN.
Draw yourself! In the mirror, your hands, from pictures, the way other people see you
Get models: You can totally hire models, or go to a local school who has figure art classes, but you don't have to! There are people around you who can model for you, poseable art models in plastic and wood, you have options!
Watch cartoons/anime/animation: Watch what the animators/character design team choose to accentuate and highlight in a design, what makes them look more human or not
Similarly, study other artists' work (in general): See how art has evolved over time and how different artists express the human body visually! Every artist does things differently, and there's stuff to learn from everyone!
Be okay with literally learning all the time. No experience is wasted, no piece "trash" just because it doesn't replicate what you see. Artist eyes are always working and creating things in our heads, and little "oh!" moments will hit you when you least expect it. The way someone's collarbone curves suddenly. The way someone's smile is shaped, but you never noticed before. Little things.
Websites: There are websites for quick pose studies, for expressive movements, for manipulating your own little model, for all sorts of things!
Literally the bottom line is to draw. Like. The more you draw, the more you will find what you want to change about your style, or what you really like about it that might make it unique! Draw lots of people! Don't get discouraged! Draw scribbly people and mystery people and people in colored pencils only and old people and people made out of shadows only! The hardest thing is choosing what to draw first, but if you're already an animal artist, translating that over to people might be easier than you think!
Also, I know the list is long but I'm chatty and want to help! I hope it's not overwhelming, and don't expect things to change immediately. Let yourself grow and bloom organically and over time.
Draw on, friend!! :D
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harmonized finale / unison square garden [eng translation]
TITLE: harmonized finale
ARTIST: UNISON SQUARE GARDEN
COMPOSITION: 田淵智也 (Tabuchi Tomoya)
LYRICS: 田淵智也 (Tabuchi Tomoya)
ARRANGE: UNISON SQUARE GARDEN
OFFICIAL MV: (from youtube)
ENG:
How far past "I miss you" am I by now?
After all, my plan is just to stubbornly keep pushing on and on
I don't care about my inferiority complex; that much is obvious
I will still chase after you, probably until the day I die
It's not something to be proud of, really,
but today, too, I'll put one foot in front of the other in my own way
If I'm bound by things like jealousy and shame,
I'll never be able to reach the future I imagined, right?
Our harmonized finale becomes a constellation, bearing the wishes of many
I wanted to save someone, I wanted to make you smile, but time doesn't stop for us
I wish we could stay like this forever, but I know the end is drawing near
Those important words I want to say patiently wait in my pocket
Goodbye, goodbye; from here, a new beginning will dawn
From my spot beside you, I worried and wondered,
and, pretending to be a wolf in sheep's clothing, I let my heart be hurt
But to be human is to embrace our struggles
I'm not an exception to that at all
If I dress myself up properly and elegantly,
I could give you a proper and elegant answer,
But to be filled with vanity scares me even more than that,
for all it'll do is carelessly destroy the future I imagined
Our harmonized finale links us together, bearing the melodies of many
The time we've spent together will be gently engraved into our hearts' staves as melodies, like a faded picture of eternity
That's right, it doesn't matter if we're apart, because I'll sing so that it may reach even you
Would you mind if I weaved these important words into my song?
Thank you, thank you; until we meet again, until the day we meet again
Our harmonized finale becomes a constellation, bearing the wishes of many
I wanted to love someone, I wanted to laugh with you in that town bathed in light
Even if there's no reason for my tears, if I keep believing, then I'll definitely see you again,
so please let me say these important words now, even if they sound shabby from my mouth
Under this sky of stars that connects people to each other,
Thank you, thank you; from here, a new beginning will dawn
Please, please let today continue on forever like this
How many times have I begged to be with you?
By now, you're probably already building a bridge towards a new era
I must've said "I'm okay" countless times by now, but I can still go on
I will still chase after you, until I reach that future
JPN:
I miss youを通過してどれくらいだろう
意地を張って何とかやってるつもりだよ
劣等感はI don't care 当たり前だろう
君を追いかけるよ 多分死ぬまで
そんなに自慢できることはないけど
今日もそれなりに少しずつ歩いてる
猜疑心や羞恥心に縛られちゃったなら
描く景色に届きはしないだろう？
Harmonized finale 星座になる 沢山の願いを乗せて
誰かを救いたいとか 君を笑わせたいとか 速すぎる時間時計の中で
ずっと続けばいいな けど 終わりが近づいてるのもわかるよ
大切な言葉ならポケットでそっと待ってる
さよなら さよなら ここからまた始まってく
並行中の問題に悩んでみたり 偽善者を気���っては心を痛めたり
人間なんて皆目はそんなもんだろう 僕もその中で生きてるんだよ
立派にキレイに見えるように 飾ったら
立派にキレイな答えが 出るけれど
大層な虚栄心に満たされるほうが怖い
描く景色を気安く壊すな
Harmonized finaleが繋いでく 沢山のメロディが浮かぶ
時に楽譜になったり 心にそっと刻んだり 色あせない永久写真の様に
そうだよ、君にも届くだろう 離れていたって大丈夫だよ 歌ってよ
大切な言葉もさ さりげなく乗せていいかな
ありがとう ありがとう また会えるまで 会える日まで
Harmonized finale 星座になる 沢山の願いを乗せて
誰かを愛したいとか 君と笑っていたいとか 光に包まれる街で
理由のない涙もあるけど 想い続けていればきっと 会えるから
大切な言葉 今 ヘタクソでも言わなくちゃ
誰かと誰かを繋ぐ星空の下
ありがとう ありがとう ここからまた始まってく
今日が今日で続いていきますように
Be with youを懇願して どれくらいだろう
新しい時代へと橋が架かるだろう
何回だってI'm OKまだ立てるから
君を追いかけるよ その未来まで
#song: harmonized finale#artist: unison square garden#en lyrics tl#OUGH I LOVE THIS SONG.#jiyou sang this for his 3d live and i loved it so much that it made me cry#please listen to it he does it so much better than the original imo
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While we're all in our feelings tonight, one thing I'm really grateful for this year for this community and for following Taylor is that it's helped me regain some of my sense of style which has been sorely missing for years. (Caveat: everyone can and should wear whatever they want at all times. This is a very me situation.)
I was very much a Rory Gilmore-type dresser in college and liked to dress up cute and play with makeup and such but then eventually ended up in a job where I was working seven days a week and almost exclusively wore athleisure most of the time. (Not that there's anything wrong with that!!!! You do you boos! It served its purpose for me as well!) And between just being exhausted and being in an environment where dressing up was Not A Thing (which had its own benefits absolutely) and also gaining a lot of weight in the past 5-7 years, I've been so absolutely uncomfortable in my skin and stuck in such a rut.
And while Taylor's style isn't always in my wheelhouse (though it is a lot more often than not) and I'm not tall, thin, blonde or rich, seeing how Taylor plays around with accessories and palettes and textures and kind of inadvertently studying that (and a huge thanks to the Taylor Swift Style blog for tracking all that stuff down), I've started playing around with that myself to see what I like and how I can express myself and my own style through that has honestly been kind of life changing in a way. Because while I still very much feel like an alien in my own body (and wish I looked and felt like I did ten years ago when I was in the best shape of my life), it's at least making me feel like I am gaining the tiniest bit of confidence in myself.
This is not to say that makeup and clothes make everything better. The beauty industry complex is toxic as fuck for a million different reasons and I actively resent it everyday. But I also love the art of makeup; I love how using different palettes play off the colour of my eyes, or different lipstick colours can convey totally different vibes. (I don't wear it everyday, and more often than not when going out don't wear more than a little mascara and eyeliner.)
I love how changing an outfit can go from "I'm a cosmopolitan girl walking through the big city like I belong"* to "I want to run through a field and get lost"** or whatever. I've spent more money on clothes this year than I have in the past five, but they've been intentional and made me think about how they go together, the quality of fabrics and how they hang, and how I can achieve the looks I aspire to. And I also started thrifting!
(*I am definitely not, I'm hopelessly suburban, but I could be a big city girl again if I wanted to. **I also am not actually one to run through fields but you know, I could cosplay the folkore photoshoot if I really wanted to too.)
When those first post-Joever photos from dinner hit in April from NYC in the black bodysuit and jeans, it made me think, "huh, I really like how this looks, but if I were going to wear it, what would I do differently?" and it's gone from there. I've discovered that despite the fact that at first it made me feel like I was 14 in my skating costumes again, I really loved how versatile bodysuits could fit with other pieces of clothing, whether they were high-waisted jeans or wide-leg pants or linen shorts or whatever, and took off from there.
I started experimenting with all the costume jewellery I have (and added more) and how I could change up my stack in a way I haven't since I got my second piercings when I was 13. (Still really tempted to go for #3 and/or a helix that I've wanted since I was 17 butttttt think I'm too chicken at the end of the day.) I've rediscovered my love of blazers and found my pair of go-everywhere white sneakers. (Am never going to be a high heel girl except for fancy events though lmao.) I dug out my jean jacket I hadn't worn in years. I have tried (and mostly failed) to draw a cat eye sharp enough to kill a man.
I'm getting a little better at caring for myself and becoming marginally more accepting of myself where I'm at.
I'm by no means a fashionista and don't follow that world in a general sense, and I'm definitely not, like, setting out to copy Taylor's style at all, however I am grateful that not only do I have all these music that fills me with joy, have made friends online and have bonded with friends IRL over it and now have an awesome trip to Europe on the books for 2024, but that I'm also kind of rediscovering and reconsidering what I like to wear and feel directly and indirectly thanks to Taylor too.
If 2023 was good for one thing for me, it may just be that at least.
#personal#long post#i know this is very silly but it has kind of meant a lot to me!!!#like I would rarely copy/paste a Taylor outfit for a variety of reasons#but there's usually at least one part that makes me think#blondie almost had me buy a crystla necklace at one point lmao#so this may be very taycapitalist of me or whatever idk#but at least I've stepped away from fast fashion and have started buying clothes that are built better and end up being more versatile!#I have bought a shit ton of makeup though but you know you have to go through some duds to find what you like#writing letters addressed to the fire
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Is a Goblin a Jew?
Three things about the human mind really do seem to be true:
The human mind is GOOD at connections. We’re basically lazy, we’ll go for what we have usually thought before. And our conscious mind is really just our mental tip of the iceberg meaning we’re often unaware of everything that we’re doing.
Those three things together interact to do some terrible things.
Yes. Goblins, as they appear in Harry Potter, ARE anti-semitic stereotypes. They draw extremely heavily on old racist tropes.
That isn’t necessarily an attack on or critique of Rowling.
Goblins and weak supernatural races often draw on racist stereotypes because that’s been built in to them for a good long while. It’s actually significantly worse if Rowling is to be believed that she didn’t read fantasy. I do not believe she is being truthful about that. Authors do lie for marketing purposes. I think it is part of her campaign to show Harry Potter as something different from run of the mill fantasy. And that idea has worked to her benefit. But she sure does use a lot of standard fantasy elements for someone who has never read fantasy. Her goblins are fairly typical once you get past them being organized into a banking community, instead of living as scavengers. If Rowling is lying about not reading Fantasy and instead adapted the normal trope of goblins into bankers, she has actually slightly improved the stereotype by portraying them as more respectable. If she is being honest, then she has somehow recreated from whole cloth a very anti-semitic stereotype, and connected it with the modern anti-semitic legend that Jews run the banks. That doesn’t say anything good.
The thing is those three basic features of the human mind lead to some great complexity. They make all the connections above. But they are as likely to work the other way.
Remember that the human mind is LAZY. Unless you give it a reason to hunt around and draw more connections than it is has to, it just takes the first off the list and calls it a day.
The Harry Potter books are now a more intimate connection for many than Jews. There really aren’t that many of us. There’s something like 20 million of us globally. We’re about a quarter of one percent of the global population. For reference, the population of just my home state in the US is about double that. So, for many, a goblin is a more present thing in their lives than a Jew. Which means that lazily pulling the first item off a list means they pull Gringotts.
That does not mean that a Goblin isn’t a weapon in an anti-semite’s arsenal. It’s simply that it now works in reverse. It’s no longer that Goblins are a metaphor for Jews. Now it’s that we can look at Goblins, see what they’re like, and then start equating their features to Jewish features so as to get people to draw the conclusion that they should expect a Jew to act like a Goblin. The Goblin is now the prime reference. So if someone or some group is like a Goblin: They’ll be difficult. They don’t care about the same things you do. They’re dangerous. They’ll betray you at the opportune moment. And they aren’t worthy to keep a hold of whatever badge of honor they claim to have a right to. Pointing out similarities between Griphook and Jews will be telling people to expect Jews to act like Griphook. That absolutely is a weapon and it can be a powerful one.
The question is, is it a weapon when it is unguided. With no one to explicitly make the connection between Griphook and me, will people make the connection that they should expect of me behavior like Griphook’s. And I am not so sure.
Again, the fundamental problem is both laziness and being GOOD at connections.
Laziness says no. If a Goblin is a category in and of itself, then a person will simply take a goblin as a Goblin. At this point, some version of Harry Potter has been taken in by over 60% of the US population (the number I could find) and it has sold more than half a billion copies in over 80 languages. So, it really is probably going to be first on the list.
Connections don’t allow for a simple answer. We’re GOOD at connections. Not kinda good. Not ok. We’re really good at it. Yes, some people are better at it than others of us. But we’re all good at it. Give us the opportunity to make a connection easily and we’ll make it.
Which finally leads into the very long trailer for the new Hogwarts Legacy game:
youtube
At about 5:25 the trailer leads into a 30 second or so snippet of what it portrays as the fundamental villains of the game. An uneasy alliance between:
Dark Wizards, represented by this guy.
And Goblins, represented by this guy:
This Goblin wants a child that the Dark Wizards were supposed to get for him while he caused a distraction. Having failed to get the child, the Dark Wizard is now upset and he wants to know what is going on. He demands “Who is this child? What are you not telling me?”
There are a few ways to interpret this.
If the primary thing on your list is fantasy and a goblin is a Goblin. Then it is pretty much the standard trope of the villain’s search for the child of prophecy. The Goblin is the same as Queen Bavmorda in Willow.
“Find the child!”
Or any other fantasy story where there is a prophecy about a chosen one and the big bad is desperately trying to destroy the chosen one first, while they’re strong and the Chosen One is still weak.
Said trope does have some history in the Harry Potter franchise:
Unfortunately, If the first thing off the list for a goblin is a Jew, then we’re drawing on another of those terrible legends about Jews: Blood Libel.
Blood Libel was a popular anti-semitic myth from the middle ages that stated that Jews abducted young Christian children for the purposes of sacrifice and using their blood in religious and mystical rituals. It was often used to justify anti-semitic violence. And it is still a weirdly present belief among anti-semites in modern times and still provided occasionally as one of the reasons why violent anti-semitism is reasonable to engage in.
If a goblin is a Jew, having their goal be to abduct a child is problematic. And in this particular case, with the portrayal of the dark wizard challenging the goblin: “Who is this child? What are you not telling me?” It pulls on other anti-semitic myths in relation to the idea of an evil Jewish cabal bent on killing the innocent.
There is a common popular Christian myth that states that Pontius Pilate, the Governor of Judea who was said to have executed Jesus, was not actually responsible for Jesus’ death. He wanted to spare Jesus’ life. But he was weak because his primary responsibility was to the mundane world and the Roman Empire which demanded order. The leadership of the Jews at that time supposedly hated Jesus because he was a threat to their order and was bringing the light of reform and a deep threat to their cabal of power. So they demanded and threatened Pontius Pilate with trouble if he didn’t do what they wanted: kill Jesus. Pontius Pilate didn’t actually want to but he relented because he put his empire before his morality. He was weak. But the ultimate responsibility lies not with the people who carried out the execution, Pontius Pilate and the Romans, but with the people who forced it to happen: the Jews. This is the ultimate sacrifice of the innocent. Jews are the responsible party for killing God. They sacrificed HIM in order to assure their power. And you can kind of see how this is reflected in the idea of Blood Libel. Jews are literally killing Christiandom by eating the basis for its power in order to increase their own.
And, again, this idea is still around.
If a goblin is a Jew, this is showing the Jew as the shadow villain behind the front villain, manipulating the person who is weak but might be decent if they were allowed to be, in order to get them to commit the unholy act that they can’t do on their own. It’s a nasty cluster of ideas that’s great for inciting violence.
The most frightening part is the third essential statement about the mind: most of our decisions and actions are triggered by the unconscious which our conscious mind then retroactively justifies. Our conscious mind is just the tip of the iceberg and the list to pick from lazily and the methodologies for both arranging the list and picking from the list are all kept down in the subconscious mind. We don’t get to consciously choose, even for ourselves, which of these interpretations we’re going to use when it matters.
My wife, a huge fantasy nut and married to a Jew, is probably not going to have her brain spit out the blood libel connection, even having gone to Catholic school, even if someone who is actually a Jew does something actually awful. She lives in a space where that’s really just not the easy conclusion to make. Her world isn’t arranged for that connection to be easy.
An active white supremacist who believes all this stuff about Jews is going to have their brain spit out Blood Libel at just the picture of a Goblin, forget anything else they do. Their world is arranged to make these connections. It’s the easy and obvious connection to make. They don’t need any help.
The fear is for the majority who lie in between. Most people won’t ever think about this. A goblin is going to be a Goblin. A jew is going to be a Jew - if they even know any Jews. This is just going to sit there as a story with no meaning outside of itself
Until
Someone else draws the connection. When someone says or does something to connect Jews and Goblins the being GOOD at connections kicks in. And then we simply don’t know how much anyone is going to extrapolate or what they’re going to extrapolate. At best it will be none of it. “Huh, I don’t see it.” At worst it will be all of it, “Holy shit, Jews ARE Goblins!”
In my experience, life doesn’t like extremes, either way. You have to build to those. Instead we’ll get a little bit of identification. A seed. That can go either way.
So that’s the danger of giving Goblins the full slate of bad Jew mythology. Any bad connection is the doorway for the whole connection to grow.
The danger of getting too up in arms about it is the danger of the self fulfilling prophecy. Most people will simply not think about all of this. By laying it all out, we’re the ones spreading the seed and saying the full danger is there when it’s actually probably pretty low. Because people just don’t care. We’re reenforcing a system that might very well simply fail without us.
I tend to favor information because I find that it isn’t the first gut reaction that is most important. It’s thoughts two and three and so forth that really drive the world. Give the conscious mind information and it can engage consciously and decide whether or not the subconscious choice is the one they actually want to go with.
In most ways, I think, we get confused on the most important topic of conversation.
I think the mistake, and it is common, is to give far too much import to what people say. What does the “author” intend you to hear? Fuck the author. They’re just one person and everything they say is subject to connections and both the audience’s conscious and unconscious mind before anyone even gets to discussing it. That’s not to let authors off the hook, it’s just to paint them as less important.
The more important question is: what do you, as the audeince, hear? What is provoked for you by these messages? Are you ok with that?
That is, admittedly, significantly harder, and we are lazy. I think that’s a tiny part of why we tend to focus so much on authorial intent because if we focus on audience perception it’s just a buttload more work. But I think it’s a much better way to work with dangerous seeds like this. Asking yourself what lessons you’re drawing from what you’re taking in lets you work with them consciously. Asking yourself how this bundle of information might affect your thinking when connected to other bundles is hard but its work that can actually pay off in the moment of need.
So... is it worth it to worry a lot about this?
I don’t know.
Honestly.
I am anxious that the villain for this game plays right into these tropes, I definitely don’t like this configuration, and I sincerely do not like that this is what they thought was a good idea given all the possible choices. It is a poor decision. Period. It’s something someone should have caught and stopped. But I don’t think I buy that it is going to be particulary dangerous going forward. I just think that goblins are going to be Goblins in the majority case and not Jews. Goblins are now the more familiar thing. So I’m not particulary worried about it causing more anti-semitism as I might have been back before Rowling was so successful.
Unfortunately, all that does nothing for the basic idea that the good wizards have the main goal of putting down a Goblin rebellion when the majority of the Harry Potter texts up to now have been pointing out that the Wizards are racist supremacists who are out to opress all the other peoples of the world. It does intrinsically carry some nasty commentary to have the villain be someone fighting for their rights against heroes who are fighting to keep them in their place, and this being morally ok because the villain is evil, so there is a natural right to put that rebellion down. I just think that’s a separate problem at this point from the anti-semitic issue.
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push & pull | kim doyoung
❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader
❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly)
❀ details - hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean
❀ word count - 9.7k
❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink
❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.
❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞
❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞
❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical
READ NEXT PART
Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.
He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.
“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.
Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”
“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.
He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”
“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.
Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.
Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.
Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.
Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.
Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.
“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.
His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.
Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.
He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.
Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances.
Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.
Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.
He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.
He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.
He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.
“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.
Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.
“You’re in some deep---”
“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”
As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”
“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”
“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”
“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”
Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”
“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.
Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”
You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”
“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.
He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.
“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”
And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”
Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.
You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.
He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.
With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.
All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.
He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.
Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.
As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.
When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”
“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.
“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.
“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.
“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.
“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.
“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.
“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.
He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”
“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.
Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.
Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”
“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.
“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.
Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.
So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.
Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.
Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.”
Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?
Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.
He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.
“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.
“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.
“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”
“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”
“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.
Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.
His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.
Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.
Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”
After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression.
The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.
The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”
His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander.
“Possibly.”
A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.
Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.
“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”
“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.
“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.
“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.
Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.
So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?
“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.
Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.
However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.
“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.
While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.
“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”
Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.
Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.
He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.
Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.
Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”
Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”
Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room.
White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.
Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.
If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?
So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?
It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.
Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.
While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.
But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.
Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.
“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”
He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.
Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.
“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.
“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.
“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”
“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”
As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”
“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.
When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.
The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.
“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.
You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”
“And what for?”
“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.
Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”
“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.
“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.
“Tell them to leave.”
“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.
“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.
But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”
“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.
“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.
“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.
“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”
“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.
“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.
“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”
Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.
Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.
“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”
Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”
Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.
“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.
Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”
“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”
Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.
“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.
“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”
“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.
You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.
“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.
“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.
“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.
Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”
But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.
And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.
You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.
But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.
The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.
However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.
There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”
The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”
“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”
You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.
So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”
“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”
“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.
Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”
“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”
Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.
You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”
Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”
“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.
“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.
“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.
“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.
Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.
He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.
The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.
Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.
When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”
“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.
He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”
With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.
Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”
“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.
“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.
“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.
“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.
You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.
His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.
Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.
“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.
“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”
Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”
His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”
He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”
You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.
Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.
And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”
There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”
“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.
Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.
You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”
“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.
“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.
Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.
All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head.
When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.
“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.
“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.
Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.
He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.
“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.
A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.
Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.
“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.
Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.
“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.
some fun critical questions to think about hehe -
why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?
there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!
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#neosmutcollective#nct-writers#neowritingsnet#kpopscape#neothestars#nct scenarios#nct smut#doyoung scenarios#doyoung smut#nct imagines#doyoung#kim doyoung#doyoung x reader#nct hogwarts au
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could i request a boyfriend!peter fic where reader comes out to him as bi and genderfluid, but they're so nervous to do so cos they havent told anyone else and he is rlly supportive? and helps them get new clothes and cut their hair? and its fluffy and hugs and stuff?
if u dont feel comfy writing this, its ok i totally understand :) i just love ur writing so much <3
Be True To Yourself || P.P.
Peter Parker x afab(previously using she/her pronouns)Genderfluid!Reader
Word Count: 1375(I am pretty sure this is my fave thing I have every written)
Warnings: Fluff, the pain of coming out, fear, anxiety, brief mentions of break up(in passing not with intent) and I swear to fucking god, if anyone comes in my inbox angry that I didn’t trigger tag this for lgbtq content i will scream so loud your ear drums burst.
A/N: So I don’t really talk about this much on here but I am a mostly gender nonconforming They/she, I come from a very very lgbtg family, I am a safe place, I promise!
♡✩♡✩♡✩♡✩♡
It was something about yourself that caused turmoil, it turned in your stomach as you tried to grapple with who and what you are, you knew that there was nothing wrong with your feelings, how certain forms of gender expression didn't feel right at certain times. Your mind floods with anxious thoughts as you sit on Peter’s bed, waiting for him to get back from patrol, to finally share your true self with the person that you love. Your hands twisting around each other, ringing out in a corporeal demonstration of your gut wrenching worry.
“Y/n?” Peter’s voice breaking through the metaphysical walls of your disquietude. Your eyes drawing upwards, trailing up the black webs of his red spandex, reaching his face in time to catch as his gloved hand tug at his mask, the eye lens blinking as he pulls off his face covering. The moment seems to soften as you glance at his hair, soft locks expanding from the confines of his secret identity. “What are you doing here?” His speaking again brought you back the reveries of your hands in his hair as you laugh giddily, his body holding yours tight to his as you ignore a movie you were supposed to be watching together.
“Hi Petey” you smile at him, tenderness in your gaze as you pat the bed next to you, signalling for him to take a seat next to you, a silent queue that he followed with much complacity. “Um, I need to talk to you about something” your eyes ducking down, an action that made Peter’s heart stop, a nervousness spreading through him rapidly as he began to feel much as you did, off kilter, as if his world was tilting beneath him.
“Y/n, you’re kinda of scaring me” he utters, reaching out for your hand only to find it already entangled, fingers linking with fingers in a never ending exhibition of unease.
“It’s nothing to be scared of, Petey, well I might need to be scared but it's something, well it’s something about me that I need to tell you and I haven’t told anyone and- well, Peter I am scared, I am really fucking scared” you let a tear you didn’t know you had spill, letting it fall down your cheek as you contemplate your words, silently reeling through every option you have on how to voice your being and identity to the person you love with the possibility that it could change how he loves you.
“My sweet, you know you can tell me anything” he assures, desperately trying to get a grip on the conversation.
“Peter, I...I can’t be your girlfriend” you murmur, quickly realizing you had chosen your words wrong as you see him freeze out of the corner of your eye, his body going rigid as the beautiful dusted rose drains from his cheeks.
“Wha-” he starts but you cut him off immediately.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I want to be with you, I want to be yours but I can’t be your girlfriend because I-I’m not a girl, well I am sometimes and I can be your girlfriend at those times but I’m not that all the time, honestly I am whatever I feel like whenever I feel like it and well, I don’t just like boys, I like girls too, but not just girls and boys, I like everyone but not now obviously because I am with you and I would never ever do anything unfaithful to you no matter how many genders or orientations I am attracted to. Peter I can’t keep pretending to be something that I am not and I don’t want that to change us but I understand if it do-” you start giving him the spiel about how it was okay if he didn’t know how to be with you now that you have become fully yourself but his lips didn’t give you the chance, cutting you off before you could manage to put into words how easy it would be for him to leave when that was the last thing that he wants, no matter what your pronouns or who you found attractive because that didn’t change who he fell in love with, he fell in love with you, not how you expressed yourself, you, his partner, his love. Pulling away your eyes remain closed, processing the amount of emotional knowledge had been lifted from your shoulder, your chest still tightened with the love at the amount of lack lecher passion Peter had let flow into your lips.
“Nothing could change the way I feel about you, Y/n, nothing in this world” he assures, lips still ghosting over yours as you finally manage to pry your eyes open to meet his chocolate honeyed gaze. “Is there anything that I can do to help you feel more comfortable in your own skin?” He was soft, so gentle a presence that you felt like warm milk on a cold night, he was calming your soul of your innermost turmoil.
“I was,” you drop your eyes, examining Peter's fluttering pulse that beats at the juncture of his collar bones. “Well I was hoping to go shopping and get a haircut cause how I currently have my hair and how I currently dress doesn’t always make me feel the best” he watches you with an attentive adoration, wanting to learn how to best be your partner and ally while you learn and grow into being fully and comfortably you. “Sometimes I don’t mind it but sometimes isn’t always and in the times its not I feel like my own existence makes me itch”
“Well we can’t have you being itchy” Peter squeezes your hips softly, tugging you closer to him as you fall back on the bed. “So I guess we shall have to go to the mall this weekend, get you a haircut, some new clothes, sound like a plan?” Peter offers and you smile unabashedly.
“The best plan” you nod sleepily into his chest, forehead grazing the emblem on his suit as you let your eyes fall shut, absolutely exhausted from the emotional strain of baring your soul to the person you love most with a possibility of getting it spat back at you, but Peter would never, he loved you more than he could understand, more than he cared to, not wanting to taint the complexities of his adoration for you with the binary idea that he could ever understand something so powerful and all encompassing.
---------------
You stood in front of a rack of t-shirts, hangers dawned with fun patterned graphic tees as you, searching for something new to complete your style, something that felt more true to you when you didn’t feel like wearing any of the clothes that you already owned, something that would go along well with the way your hair was now styled. Peter was not standing with you, having wandered off minutes before to go find something that he thought you would enjoy. The feeling of someone near you making you turn to face where the sensation was coming from, your eyes finding your grinning boyfriend. I
"I have an idea!" Peter smiles excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he fiddles with a pack of bracelets in his hand. "So um, I was thinking we could assign each bracelet pronouns so I know which ones to use when to use which pronoun" you felt like you were glowing, fully understood for the first time in your life and there is nothing more valuable than that, than feeling totally and completely seen and accepted for who and what you were. Tears flood your eyes without your consent as you smile stupidly back at Peter whose face was falling, hand reaching out to cup your cheek. "Baby, did I say something wrong?" you shook your head, nuzzling deeper into his palm.
"No, no Petey, I just feel good in my own skin for once in my life" you blubber.
"I just want my partner to be happy" his thumb brushes over your orbital bone, wiping away a fallen tear. "Because I love them with everything I have”
“I love you too Petey, so much”
let me know what you thought
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@iluvdeja @quaksonhehe @lovehollandy12 @thollandneedy @prancerrparkerr @parkerpeter24 @hollandsour @evermoreholland @harmqnia @thehumanistsdiary @samaraaaaa @itscaminow @alinastarkrovs @marvelsbitch8 @celestialholland @kasidy409 @parkerdarling @scarletspideyy @capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @hackerholland @tom-softie @hollandsjen @tomhollandsbitch8 @bi-lmg07 @reawritesthings @tomsholland2412 @lowkey-holland @cocoamoonmalfoy
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader fluff#peter parker blurb#peter parker request#peter parker fluff#peter parker oneshot#peter parker one shot#peter parker x reader oneshot#peter parker x reader one shot#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x genderfluid!reader#peter parker x bi!reader#lgbtq#peter parker x lgbtq!reader
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